Last Days of Disco

I registered the "babies" for kindergarten a few weeks ago.

I don't call them "babies" anymore of course, but that's what they will always be, technically.

The enormity of impending kindergarten is not lost on me.

It's been a looooong two years. It's been wonderful and maddening and exhausting and frustrating and ridiculous and hilarious and stressful and a gift.



When I lost my job just over two years ago, my life changed overnight. Never in a million years did I imagine myself as a "stay at home" mom (and I don't consider that I ever have been since I was fortunate enough to fairly effortlessly segue into steady, part-time freelance work at home). But there is no question that in the last two years I have been "home" much more than I ever was with any of my children. And I don't think I've made any secret of the fact that it hasn't been easy. Of course it hasn't been.



I feel like it's all been leading up to this--the "this" being kindergarten, aka, a full day to complete my work (imagine!) and all the other endless tasks that go along with a house of six that includes four young children. Right now, I bookend the bulk of my work in about three hours in the morning (the amount of time I have once I get all the various children to all of their various places before it's time to pick the twins up from school) and at night after they all go to bed. There's a babysitter in there when work gets particularly overwhelming. I also answer work emails and phone calls and address inquiries throughout the day. And yes, I am basically a crazy person because of this.

I despise being rushed. I abhor doing things "halfway." I detest leaving dishes in the sink and crumbs on the counter and Lego bricks on the carpet in front of the coffee table (OUCH) and laundry unfolded in a basket, but this is what I have learned to live with in the last few years. I pick my battles, I look the other way and I have learned the hell out of prioritizing, compartmentalizing and yes, time management.

I HATE losing my temper and running out of patience but I am human and I have done just this, more times than I am proud of. Because, helloooo, stress.



The days have been long, for sure. Going into this whole "working from home" gig, I knew this was IT. Once they start school? You lose a tiny bit of them that you just never get back. I know this because of Leo and Ellie. These last two years I've done my best to pack the twins' days while also getting my work done. Before they started school in those dark, snowy months right after my full-time job ended, we made the rounds at library story times and used afternoon grocery trips as a way to stay busy get out of the house. Then in September of 2014 both twins were in school five mornings a week, and I got a taste of what life COULD be like when I had the time and space that I had once known. It was a tease of the future, of a life with "big kids."



Once we were no longer slaves to the afternoon nap (at age three, when Lucy put an end to THAT nonsense (groan), the twins started the requisite afternoon classes--gymnastics and swimming at the local community center, two days a week. And sometimes (OK, often), trying to slide dry clothes onto wiggly, still-damp bodies that won't stand still long enough to get properly dried off is about the LAST thing I feel like doing, but I tell myself, SELF? This is it. This is what you do. Because there will never be 1pm swimming classes again, ever. And sometimes we even stop for ice cream on the way home, because that's what you do too.



And now, officially registered for kindergarten and on the precipice of full-day school for ALL four (three at the SAME school? What the what?), it just feels...big.



We sold this bad boy a few weeks ago. Of course we hadn't used it in a while but still...I haven't been without a stroller in my house for...eleven years. It's the end of an era, to be sure.

I've said this before and I'll say it again, as hard as things can feel sometimes, I do my very best not to wish time away. Some mornings when I'm getting breakfast on the table (three different drinks for four kids) and packing lunches and snacks into backpacks and someone is playing a keyboard and another person turns on "Knuffle Bunny" on the CD player at full volume, the very hairs on the back of my neck stand up because it is SO EFFING LOUD and it feels like the walls of the house are going to close in on me.

But then Leo's bus pulls up and he gets on and is off to middle school. And then the rest of us load into the van and sing "Cheerleader" on the way to Lucy's school. And then we get home and Harry's bus is waiting for him. And then it's just Ellie and me. And then she's skipping down the hill to the blacktop where the third, fourth and fifth graders line up.



And then, it's just me. And it's quiet. And sometimes it just feels altogether unfamiliar.

On Balance (HAHAHAHA), a New School Year and Free Reign Chaos

I'm coming out of another work fog that makes me remember that I am a human and that there is life outside of work. It also makes me question how I am handling this Working From Home gig. It's hard, yo!


Then there was the day a few weeks ago that the house internet was down in the midst of a huge work deadline (of course it was!). In the afternoon we all trudged down to the neighborhood "free" wifi spot (Evil Fast Food Restaurant) where I was successfully able to download my much needed document. All was well that ended well there, but not without quote a bit of panic and stress on my part. I think it's clear from the "toasting" of sundaes (seen here) who the winners were that day.

It's all hard:

-Working at the office/commuting/not seeing the kids for ten hours/getting home and scrambling for all the different people begging for attention/feeling guilty because I don't spend enough time with them and the time I do spend isn't "quality" time and I often feel impatient and burned out
-Working from home/carving work in between all the other home responsibilities/seeing the kids for ten hours at a time/getting home and scrambling for all the different people begging for attention/feeling guilty because the time I spend with them isn't "quality" time and I often feel impatient and burned out

But the good thing about being ridiculously stressed and overwhelmed is that when you no longer feel stressed and overwhelmed, you feel Reborn!

After two days on and several days off (Hi, Jewish Holidays), we are officially Back in the Business of School (except for one day last week--Hi Another Jewish holiday). In fact this week, the last one of September, is actually the first full week of school!


Oh, Hiiiiiiiiiiii sixth grade. How's it going? (First day)

Leo is settling into middle school. After a few bumps (on the second week of school it rained. Leo has developed a severe phobia of rain and storms (?) and that day, I was on and off the phone all day with the school nurse, because Leo had come to her with a stomach ache. Several times). We have been talking and talking (and talking) about the importance of rain--to the planet, to the people, you name it. The other bump was that did you know that in middle school they serve pizza Every Day? Leo was confused on a Tuesday when he did not get pizza (because in fifth grade, pizza day was Friday). Sheesh, life is always throwing curve balls, isn't it? Next week he starts some extracurricular activities which I'm excited about (and so is he!): Art Club and Science Club. On the horizon is try-outs for the basketball team (gulp!).


Behold, third grade and Last Year of Preschool x 2

No big news on third grade (fine by me!). Ellie likes her teacher and is happy that one of her good friends is in her class (again). She's started soccer and is enjoying it and Girl Scouts (Brownies) starts again in a few weeks.

Lucy is excited to be in the "Big Kid" class in preschool. She has the teacher Ellie had her last year of Pre-K, which is fun and familiar. After a few relatively smooth months (it's all relative, not sure if smooth is the best word) Lucy seems to be entering another tricky phase. It seemed to kick off with the transition to big kid beds. Maybe it's too much change at once. I could just really do without the tantrums about television and the running away from me in the parking lot. And the driveway. This too shall pass, I know. The thing is, she can be SO SWEET. And mature! And sensitive. When Erin had some oral surgery recently, she came over to her and crawled into her lap and said, "Mama? Does your mouth hurt? I'll be extra sweet to you."

On the first chilly morning of fall I dug out my old beloved khaki trench coat which she complimented me on, calling it my "fancy" coat. When Harry is running around the bedroom without pants on at bedtime and she's quietly brushing her teeth with her legs folded crisscross applesauce, she asks me, "Mommy? Am I being a very good girl?" Jekyll. And. Hyde.


And just like that, we said goodbye to cribs (I know, four is old to be in a crib but if you have twins, you get it). Do not, I repeat DO NOT be fooled by their apparent calm. Cribs for everyone!


I was admiring Harry's Transformer "dollhouse" and "family." "It's NOT a dollhouse family," he replied, incredulous. "It's an ARMY!"

After a month with Lucy at her school, Harry was a little unhappy about having to go back to his other school (where he continues to get the speech therapy that he's happily growing out of the need for but I'm not arguing with free preschool!). His disappointment passed quickly--he now seems to really enjoy where he is--all last year he would ask in the morning, "Is it a school day?" And when he found out it was, his face would fall a little. But now, he has a little spring in his step in the morning and bounds off the bus in the late morning, talking about a handful of little boys he played Transformers with or a book they got to read in library.

And then there's me. Four years in and I'm STILL not accustomed to the chaos of having twins. One four year old is one thing. Two? Right now what I'm struggling most with is listening. As in, they don't listen to me. Or at least, not as much as I need them to.

I am a person who likes order. Routine. And did I mention quiet? OK, I have mostly accepted the fact that our house is the opposite of quiet, but that doesn't mean I don't find it all too much to take sometimes. It seems like for the most part, ever since we converted the cribs to toddler beds, bedtime, or more like, around 4pm every day, evolves into something out of an episode of "Super Nanny, "but BEFORE Super Nanny swoops in and makes everything OK. It just feels completely out of control. Jumping off beds. Ignoring simple, completely reasonable requests like, "Can you please go to the bathroom and put your pajamas on?"

We're trying a few things that are hopefully helping (awarding "coins" for good behavior that they collect to earn a small prize at the end of the week). I HATE material bribes but you do what you gotta do right? I'm also hoping that maybe the novelty of being "free reign" at bedtime will wear off soon.

And you know, there's the flipside of course. These two incredibly frustrating, challenging, adorable, interesting, smart hilarious people. Just as I did the day they were born, I still marvel at them. TWO of them.


To quote Harry, who said, right as I was taking this picture: "There are too many people in this pool!"





Well, four of them.

This too shall pass, and all that jazz.

Last Days Before Pre-K: Harry Edition

In a little over a month, I will do something I have never done before. I will spend my mornings with ONE three year old. (Hi, Lucy!).

Harry is starting preschool. That's right, cue the strings to "Sunrise, Sunset."


Taking pictures of my sleeping "babies." It just never gets old. But they do. SOB!

I won't bore you with the long drawn out story of why Harry is starting school this summer and Lucy is starting this fall. The short version is Harry will be going to a program through our town's school district geared toward encouraging language and speech articulation and it starts in June (as part of the academic year's "extended year program.") Ironically, his language has been exploding lately--I timed that well as it seemed to take off right after his evaluation--but the added stimulation of an early preschool program (bonus: separate from Lucy) will be amazing for him, I think.

The plan had always been to put Harry and Lucy into preschool in June but then I went and got laid off and, well, life happened. The urgency to get Lucy into school wasn't there anymore since I would be home to do things with her (Costco and Target=Super Education-ha ha-oops I mean, library toddler story time! And nature walks! And finger painting!). Plus, the big kids will be around some this summer and nobody but nobody knows how to play with and entertain Lucy better than Ellie, the World's Best Preschooler Wrangler. And, I'll admit it. I don't feel rushed about preschool. I'm suddenly getting nostalgic (shocking, I realize). About my almost-three-year olds. I KNOW.

I've spent the last almost four months plotting ways to get three, seven, nine minutes to myself and suddenly, the moment is upon me. The enormity of the fact that in a little over three months, for a few hours a day, ALL THE CHILDREN WILL BE IN SCHOOL.

It's the whole, be careful what you wish for phenomenon. Don't get me wrong. I have plenty to do. Namely, work! I am for now (knock on wood) working nicely and steadily from home these days.




It's barely three hours a day. But I'm going to miss my little Batman (he zooms around the house now and proclaims himself so). And I'm reminded of that strange transition and adjustment that occurs when your little one suddenly develops a life away from you. It happened early on with Leo and Ellie because I spent so much time away from home, working. But this time, it's different. And with two at the same time? It's really different.



Speaking of time: Harry and Lucy turn three on Sunday. THREE! Wasn't I just hugely pregnant? And then wasn't I just strapped to the loveseat breastfeeding two! babies! six hours a day?





And away, they go.