I Want to Believe

Grammy in January with Luke and Kate. She really wanted to get to hold both babies and did a great job!



Grammy in October with all of our children. The babies were too wiggly for her to hold both, but she got to hold Kate.

It's funny. On Christmas Eve I couldn't sleep and felt the urge to share with others my feelings of this Christmas. So I blogged, and it was exactly midnight. The next morning, after the chaos of opening the kind and generous packages from Santa, we got a phone call that Grammy (Steve's grandmother) had passed away around 11:30 the previous night.

I'm not a deeply spiritual or religious person, I'll just put that out there, but I want to believe that I was moved by something to write that night. Whether it was just she was on my mind, or something much more divine, I will probably never know. I just know I had to write a bit about the woman whom I admired so greatly. She was the pillar of the Weller family and a spunky lady. I loved spending time with her because she always had a great sense of humor and an educated mind. She would read four or five books at a time and was much more travelled than most people I know. But her love for her family is what I enjoyed the most, she truly was proud of each of her three children, four grand children, and eleven great-grandchildren.

I have always considered God to be sort of like a Santa Claus. As children, we believe there is a piece of magic coming into our house every December to reward us for our good behavior. He reminds us to give to others and to be thankful for our blessings. As adults, many believe the same thing. There is a spiritual magic which will reward us with eternal life if we behave. God reminds us to give to others and be thankful for our blessings.

I'm not saying there isn't a God, because I am far from an expert on the subject. I go to church frequently to seek a higher power with skepticism, but still I go in hopes I will find Him. I'm also not saying there isn't a Santa, I believe there is. When my children ask me if I believe in Santa, my response is always the truthful, "I believe in the magic Santa brings." The glad tidings and joy of giving in the Christmas season is very magical to me and something I look forward to each year.

Go forth in your glory Grammy. I hope you find your beloved husband, parents and sister in eternal life. You will be missed here on Earth by all you have left behind, but your spirit lives in each of us whose lives you have touched.

Christmas Eve 2008

It's midnight, exactly, on Christmas morning. Santa has just arrived, after waiting for our little seven year-old to fall asleep. Steve and I can't decide if it was the anticipation or the skepticism which kept him awake, but I'm leaning more on the side of anticipation. As a child, I remember laying in bed on Christmas Eve, remembering a story a neighbor friend had told me about seeing Rudolph's nose in the sky. He was about four years older than I was and must have known the truth about Santa, but he continued to play along for my sake and probably saved me for about two more Christmases.

I don't remember how I found out about Santa, just remember the let down I felt when my younger brother got lots of toys and I got clothes. The disappointment I felt, along with the guilt I laid on my mother, was thick, and I dread that first Christmas when one of my boys doesn't believe. Thankfully I have the Santa picture (see previous post) which should save us for another year.

This year feels like a Christmas like I've never had, almost like the first Christmas I found out there was no Santa Claus for a couple of reasons. The first is the first Christmas we haven't gone to our parent's house or had some guests on Christmas morning. When we lived in Alexandria, my parents always arrived before the boys woke up and we all opened our gifts together. Since moving to the country, Steve's parents have always come in and spent the morning with us. As a family with five children, we certainly are not going to have a boring morning, but it does feel weird to be doing this on our own. I guess we are grown-ups now!

The other way this is not a normal Christmas is my heart is very heavy. Steve's grandmother is very ill, in the hospital from a life-threatening stroke. Barring some miracle, she will lose her life very soon. Although she is not my grandmother by blood, she feels like one to me. She has lived an incredible life and every time I am with her I learn something new. She has kept a daily journal for more than eighty years, chronicling every detail of her life including where she has slept. She has been to six of the seven continents and continues to amaze me with her adventures. I love this woman, she is the one I have always wanted to name my daughter after and thankfully was given the chance. My heart is breaking for her pending loss, I ache to have my children and myself know her much better.

Christmas is a special time for me to remember all I love and all who have touched my heart. To my dad, to Grammy, to my children and to my husband...I love you all! Merry Christmas!

Reflection

I have mentioned in a couple of past blogs we have done a lot of reflecting these past couple of months, starting in mid-October just about the time I went on bed rest. The last two months were the worst part of our entire "twin experience", mainly because I was in so much pain and couldn't do anything but lay in bed. It was hard for a girl who gets cabin fever the day after a snowstorm.

I asked myself a couple of days ago, "What was the worse part of the babies' first year?" As I reflected, I thought about how lucky we were. Our hospital stay was short, our healthy babies came home after three days in the hospital (no NICUs for us) and I didn't have a C-section (just a little surgery to make sure this didn't happen again). Neither Kate nor Luke had reflux, and were relatively healthy thanks to the Synagis shot (at $1,400 per shot per baby per month...thank goodness for health insurance). The big boys were very good helpers and adjusted very well to our new lives. Relatively, we dodged a lot of bullets.

But it's not easy. Trying to nurse two babies, whether singly or tandem, is hard work. If you nurse one at a time, it takes forever, and if you nurse them at the same time you feel like a milk machine. Transporting the babies required some planning. There were many times you could find me at the grocery store pushing the babies' stroller and pulling the shopping cart. I have a new-found appreciation for people in wheelchairs, navigating the world around ramps and elevators is not easy. The sleeping was difficult, but the babies were pretty easy-going about sleeping on the go, and they slept through the night at an early age.

So what's the answer? What was the hardest part? I think it was the day after Christmas. Christmas morning I woke up with a sore throat which got progressively worse throughout the day. The next day I felt miserable, I think getting up with the babies, in addition to the stress of the holiday, had finally caught up with me. Steve's Aunt Judy and Uncle Ken, whom I adore, were visiting us as well as his parents and I couldn't keep my eyes open. Finally Judy came over and told me the babies were fine and I could go take a nap. I think I slept for three hours, the best and longest stretch of sleep I'd had for six weeks! It was glorious! I woke up feeling so much better and totally recovered a couple of days later.

It was only one day and it seems so trivial, but it really was when I felt the worst and wondered if I was ever going to make it. I felt like it wasn't fair I was sick when I couldn't sleep and had to take care Kate and Luke. I'm sure a lot of moms feel this way, but it was compounded by my five week-old twins.

Anyway, I am amazed by our twins and that we actually made it! If this was the worst, it couldn't have been that bad!

This Will Make 'Em Believe!

My friend turned me on to this website which will take a photo you download and super-impose any of about 50 Santas onto it. You can then save the picture and print it or put it on your computer. Here's ours:

It costs about $10, but for another year for Kyle to believe, totally worth it!

Now I just gotta get off before he sees it! Merry Christmas!

What if?

Such innocent looking faces.

Afternoons around our house are usually pretty quiet. We've just all eaten lunch, so no one is hungry. Lance is home from school and needs a bit of relaxing in front of the TV until his brothers get home from school. And the babies are playing before their second nap. They are usually quite content to play with each other and are in great moods. It's one of my favorite times of the day, time I can run some laundry up the steps or get on the computer for a minute.

Today I sat down on the couch ready a three day-old newspaper and looks up at my smiling, happy little babies. Luke was pushing around the stools we have set at the island on our kitchen and Kate was quietly unloading everything from my purse. They were content, no body was in any danger, so I let them continue.

As I watched Luke try to push the stool over his sister and Kate pulling each Kleenex out of the wrapper, I wondered what would happen if I just let them be. What kind of mess would be left in the wake of two babies on their own in their "childproof" surroundings?

I'll let you ponder that because I need to go chase after Kate who has figured out how to get the top off my lipstick and headed towards my off-white carpet and Luke who is eating the dog food. While you're pondering...would you also let me know which one I should go after first? Thanks!

The Sadness Continues

Today is the third anniversary of my father's passing. Although the raw pain has numbed, my heart is still loaded with sadness. I am weak with sadness to know he will not be able to see my boys grow up , much less the joy he is missing with the two new grandchildren he never knew. Losing him was the worst thing I have had happen in my life and I miss him dearly.

I keep a journal next to my bed. It started as a "Mommy Journal" filled with tidbits about my children and about being a mom. It has evolved into a place where I write personal bits about my entire life, not just about being a mom. I wrote this a while back and thought I would share it today as a tribute to my dad.

DAD
You taught me the difference between right and wrong, left and right.
You laughed at my jokes because you actually understood them.
You handed my children the most precious gift of all, your time and love.
You gave me the strength to be the person I am and the aspiration to be more.
You showed me what unconditional love it.
You gave me the opportunity to tell you "I love you" through my words and actions.
You gave me the courage to write this.
You showed me the beauty of this world. But I wish you didn't have to suffer.
You enlightened me of the appreciation of life. But I long to have you here.
You showed me complete determination to fight your fight with courage. But I wish you had won.
You told me it would be okay, it wasn't. But you are full of dignity and pain free.
You gave me your whole heart, now a piece of mine is missing. But I have the strength to carry on.
You said "Hi" to me that awful morning. But I never got a chance to say "good bye".
Good bye Daddy.

Hello!

Blogs are an interesting thing. I love checking on my favorites and seeing what my friends are doing. Some of the blogs can be so thought-provoking or laugh-out-loud funny. I sometimes feel like a voyeur when reading these blogs, reading some very personal things.

My blog is just about my life. I'm not very interesting. I'm your typical mom in LoCo. I wear Danko shoes in the winter and flip-flops in the summer. My everyday uniform is a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, with a design if I'm feeling particularly spicy. I drive a minivan. I lose my patience. I own a couple of soccer mom chairs and which have been dragged to more kids' sporting events than I can count. I'm a very typical mom with a very typical life, so why do I write?

I started writing to entertain myself, as well as to keep my friends and family up-to-date on the latest happenings in our small village. Sometimes I have a hard time finding the time, and other times (like tonight) the words are spewing from my fingers. Nonetheless, it's something I enjoy.

Sometimes I forget my blog is open for the world to see. I write to an audience of those who I know are reading because they usually send me a comment or an email (you know who you are). Recently I have found more people are checking up on me than I realize. I think much of this is due to the exposure I'm getting on Facebook and a bit by word of mouth, but it's very flattering people are taking an interest in what I have to say.

Thank you for your time. Feedback is appreciated!

Neurotic

We are getting ready for a trip to North Carolina to see Steve's parents. We are going to celebrate Thanksgiving with them, along with Steve's brother, his wife and their two boys. It will be the first time we have been there since the summer and the first time Steve's brother and his family have ever been. It will be a full house with a lot of action, the cat will surely never be seen!

Packing has been a breeze, the kids have been helping. I've baked a couple of gluten-free things and bought a couple more for bringing down. No problem! The problem is the house...I'm neurotic about making sure it is spotless before we leave.

I'm sure there are plenty of people who don't like coming home from a trip to a messy house. Heck, I don't even like coming home from the grocery store to a messy house (though it happens more frequently than I care to admit). There's plenty of laundry and unpacking to do when you are home, I certainly don't want to be faced with vacuuming when I walk in the door as well.

But I'm worse than most, I am a raging, out of control, throw anything that gets in my way maniac when I get ready for a trip. Toilets scrubbed, windows cleaned, furniture dusted, wood floors mopped...check, check, check, check! It's obsessive! I think it's even gotten a bit worse each time we go away, tomorrow I am having our carpets professionally cleaned. The next time who knows what length I will go to???

So happy Thanksgiving everyone! I'm sure I will find my many blessings as soon as I finish with the kitchen counters!

Interesting View

Before I became a full-time mom, I was a special education teacher. I taught all sorts of children with special needs, but mainly those with mental retardation. It was a job I loved, but it wore me out each and every day. The kids I worked with presented me with some of the most difficult challenges I have ever faced, but it was rewarding. The school was a special education center for students from ages 12 to 22, so they were there for awhile. It was a wonderful chance for the staff to get to know the parents very well.

One of the things I am most proud of when I was teaching was starting a parent support group at the school after learning how different parenting was for parents of special-needs kids. I tried to start a sibling support group as well, but it didn't take off. The parent group was a great way for me to learn about the concerns of the parents, especially as their children got older. I had lawyers, social workers, teachers, and many other specialists come to talk to the group and I hope they found it worthwhile.

That was when I was a teacher...now I'm a parent. Things are so much different as a parent. I always said the best teachers are parents so they can see both sides. Now I'm beginning to think the best special education teachers should have special needs kids.

Steve and I have been worried about Kyle for a couple of years in regards to his learning. At age two we had him tested for a language delay, but he was found ineligible for speech services. In kindergarten and first grade, he was eligible for summer school because of his low achievement in reading. When we moved, we had him repeat first grade. It wasn't a perfect solution to the problem, but was probably one of the best things we did for him.

Since then, Kyle has really done well. He is reading above grade-level and especially loves science and social studies. His math skills are great, he's a great student and his teachers love him. The biggest issue is his spelling. It stinks! We can't figure out why, but he has trouble with even the most basic words. Every year we try to work on this with him, but his frustration level is getting higher whenever he writes. Something must be done!

And so this afternoon I sat at a large conference table, a place I have sat plenty of times before as a teacher, but this time I was the parent. We talked about ways to help my dear mispeller and tears came to my eyes as I spoke of how hard this was. As a teacher, I never thought such a meeting would be so emotional, but now I'm sitting on the other side of the table. These teachers and psychologist and administrator were talking about my son! He's not spelling well, his written language is not holding true to his full potential. It pains me to think of accommodations which may have to be made for Kyle to help him with his spelling, but which also make him stand out. A Franklin speller in his desk or working on the computer when everyone else is writing at their desk can lead to teasing and other problems for Kyle.

As I reflect on the meeting and my tears, I know we are on the right path to helping my boy. The specialists at his school will find the right tools to help him to spell and they will have our full support at home. I'm just hoping it doesn't create more problems!

One year!

Sure looks like they had fun, despite the low-profile party! I guess you add chocolate cake to anything and you have a good time!

As I begin this blog, I have been the mom of five children for exactly one year, one day, one hour and one minute. Today was the twins' first birthday and I can't believe we have made it through one year. It's funny as I write the word "twin" because I never call them that. To me, they are just babies who happen to be the same age so I call them "the babies". It's weird when I hear people refer to them as "the twins" because it is just not a word we use very often.

I don't think we are too extraordinary in the infrequent use of the word. One of my friends has a set of twins who are in kindergarten now. It wasn't until this year they came home asking what a twin was. That story shocked me this summer when I heard it, but not so much anymore. I don't think it will be that extreme with Kate and Luke, but the word just isn't used that often. I think it would probably be used even less frequently if they were the same gender.

Anyway, we made it. The celebration wasn't all glitz and glamor as I had planned. When they were born, I had heard a story of a friend of a friend who had an adult cocktail party to celebrate their twins' birthday. I thought this was a fabulous idea! As the time got closer (and our basement wasn't done), I realized I really didn't have the energy. The children birthdays in our family are all crammed into three months. Honestly, I'm kind of birthday-ed out. This is the only year I will be able to get away with not having a party for them, so I'm taking advantage!

As I reflect on the last year, it wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be. I still wouldn't wish twins upon my worst enemy, because it is certainly not an easy task. The divorce rate of parents with twins is super-high and I can understand why. Thankfully Steve and I seem to have weathered the storm pretty well, but we had our moments of complete frustration and exasperation.

In the beginning the hardest part was the sleep deprivation. Kate and Luke were up every two hours wanting to nurse. I tried to tandem-nurse them but I felt much more like a machine than any kind of nurturing mother. We tried me feeding one baby and then another, which worked out better but had me up twice as long. Steve tried helping, but he had to work the next day and also had the biological advantage of not lactating. By some stroke of luck, and the introduction of bottles, we had babies who slept through the night earlier than the other boys. Luke slept through at 2 1/2 months and Kate at 4 months. Things got much better after we were able to sleep.

These days the hardest part is transporting them. Luke is clocking in at about 27 lbs. and Kate is a much more petite 22 lbs. Together I am lugging around almost 50 lbs. of baby! I don't carry them at the same time very often, mainly because I am afraid of falling, but there are times when I must. When I am out running errands or taking Lance to school, they are usually in their stroller. I am especially envious of parents of single babies on days when it's raining and they are running in with their baby on their hip and I am hunkered down underneath the semi-dry hatchback of my minivan trying to wrestle a baby into his and her stroller seat. Isn't it appropriate for the babies' birthday, Momma got them a new stroller?

So happy birthday Kate and Luke! We are so, so blessed to have you in our family. We love you both to the moon and back and I can't imagine my life without you in it.

Kyle, You're Pants are on Fire

I check a handful of blogs almost every day and am always thrilled when a new post is up. Many times it is some recent photos of my friends' children or a cute little story, but others have brought me to tears with their sentimental reflections. (Thanks Sara). I'm sorry if I don't have the humor or sentimentality, much less the time to write, but thanks for checking up on me. You never know when you will be surprised!

Kyle is our oldest. He's also the most mature, mainly because of his age but he is a good kid and we are very proud of him. He's our go-to when we need the truth to a story or a quick job done without a fight. Kyle's our guy...or so we thought.

This week the book fair was at Kyle and Trent's school. As a kid, I remember the excitement of the book fair. Being in the library with books you could take home FOREVER was one of my favorite times of he school year! I would peruse the books and pick out some of my favorites. Books were one of my passions as a kids, especially loving Ramona and her naughtiness (I really related to that girl in a alter-ego kind of way) and Judy Blume and her naughtiness (periods...gasp!...and worse). My pile of books I chose at the book fair usually came up to my nose, and I was usually disappointed when I came home with only five books.

My boys get to go to the book fair during their library time at school, but I always take them rather than sending them to school with money. It's another of my many ways to live vicariously through my kids. My plan was to take the boys to the book fair at school on Tuesday after school when I had to pick them up from an after-school club. I was going to be there anyway, one less trip of dragging the babies out. There is only one rule, only books. None of these stupid little magnet kits, puppy puzzles, stuffed Cliffords...nope! Only books! The sky's the limit, pretty much.

The ultimate literary Utopia was destroyed this year by my "go-to" guy. On Tuesday afternoon, I get a phone call from the school that Kyle has a tummy ache and can he come straight home instead of going to the after-school club. Not a big deal, send him on home. As he gets off the bus stop, he tells me someone had bought him books at the book fair. I question it a little, thinking a friend of my or his teacher had bought him a small book or something. It's only when he starts to pull out his book fair booty that things start to unravel. Book after book, science kit after plush toy...hmmm.

Me: Who bought these for you?
Him: I forget.
Me: Was it an adult or a kid? (As I'm adding up the merchandise in my head to total more than $31.)
Him: Adult, I forget who.
Me: (pause)
Him: (pause)

Steve walks in to the kitchen at this point and asks what was going on. I tell him Kyle's story ("story" being the key word). Steve questions him more and asks him to empty his pockets. That's when Kyle starts to sob, wanting much more to go to his room than to continue this conversation. Turns out he stole a $50 bill from us and used it at the book fair. He was aptly punished from friends and TV for the week and cannot take money to school for the rest of the year.

But the punishment weighed heavily on me. I couldn't take Kyle to the book fair. No books for Kyle this year. I had to return all of the book fair paraphernalia he had bought. Next year's book fair will probably remind me of this incident, but book fairs will probably not always be tainted in my mind. I will get over it.

Steve, however, is having a harder time with this little lying episode. He wonders how Kyle really thought he could get away with this. If he had taken the books up to his room with little fanfare, we probably wouldn't have been the wiser. Steve can't believe his son is such a terrible liar and why he didn't think this through more. It's really bothering him!

I'd like to think he's not a good liar because he hasn't gotten much practice. I'd like to keep it that way! I want my "go-to Kyle back!

Playdate Drama

I got a phone call this summer from a mom of one of Trent's friends. She wanted to get the boys together for a playdate, but this is the same boy who gave Trent so much trouble in kindergarten (you may remember this) so I never called her back. She called back again a couple of weeks ago and I felt bad. I called her and she asked if Trent could come over one day after school. Knowing Trent, I knew that wouldn't go over very well so I invited his "friend" to come over here.

I later told Trent about the upcoming playdate. He flipped out! "C. is mean. I don't want him to come over here." We went through this for about a week. Then Tuesday we were in full-on cry mode. Trent didn't want him to come over. No way. No how. "Call his mom right now," he said. There was a problem with that. If I cancel the playdate, she would want to reschedule. If I told her the truth, Trent was going to have to face this kid at school on Wednesday and probably explain to his face why he doesn't like him.

This presents a huge problem for Trent. Although he is very opinionated about his likes and dislikes at home, he is a pleaser at school. His teacher said at our conference he has such a hard time deciding on who to sit with at lunch or who to play with at recess because he doesn't want to hurt peoples' feelings. (Are we talking about the same kid?) She says everyone really likes him at school. The poor boy si just too liked. Apparently that's the reason C.wants to play with Trent.

He came up with a whole bunch of wildly ridiculous ideas to excuse himself from the playdate: "Tell his mom we go to the grocery store after school every day." (Okay, I DO go to the store every day, but surely not with five kids in tow.) "Tell his mom I got invited to a birthday party." (The day before?)

We finally solved his anxiety by saying that if C. was mean, I would call his mom and ask her to come get him. In the meantime, his brothers came up with some solutions of their own. The most recent one, and the one which stuck, was to give him an "atomic wedgie" if he treats Trent badly. Trent laughed when this was mentioned, especially when Lance said he probably wears pink underwear.

So my boys will stand up for one another albeit not with the most appropriate responses. We're so proud!

Kate and Luke

I can't believe the babies are going to be a year old next month! What a wild ride it's been! I continue to hear of new twins births (three in one weekend!) and anticipated twins with such mixed emotion. While we feel very blessed to have Kate and Luke in our lives, it is certainly not easy to have twins.

They are both crawling now and getting into lots of trouble. Luke seems to be the most curious one while Kate follows along to see what he's doing. They love to get into anything where there might be hidden treasures. My purse on the floor, the TV cabinet, the remote control basket, and most recently the toilet all are their favorite things right now.

This is a really fun age, an age where they seem to come up with a new skill every day. They are waving to everyone, clapping, and showing us how big they are..."So big!" The best right now is Luke will constantly shake his head "No" while Kate will only nod her head "Yes". It may be an indicator of what's to come...

Enjoy the Monotony!

(This is a delayed blog due to the blogger’s ineptitude. Sorry for the confusion, maybe the anticipation of the actual story will make it that much grander.)

We all complain. I hear it everyday at the grocery store and I am constantly doing it. (A special “shout out” to Kathleen at this point for putting up with me.) We complain about our kids, our husbands, our finances, our lack of time, our boring lives…so many things. Not that we are negative people, but it’s just something we do.

But no more for me. I’m done complaining. I just had one of those reality checks I always talk about needing. The kind where you need to take a good, hard look at your life and think, “My life is good.” A reflection on all which is right in the world and knowing you are fortunate.

My friend is going through one of those hair-raising, one-chilling moments right now in her life. Her seven year-old daughter may have cancer. How can this be? Seven year-olds don’t get cancer. My father passed away from the disease at 57 years-old and that was way too young, how can this little seven year-old girl have such a ruthless and devastating disease?

My friend thought her daughter had a urinary tract infection. T. took her to the doctor for antibiotics and they didn’t seem to help. H. continued to have severe pain and it worsened. After another day, T. called to doctor back and they told her to take her to the ER. Long story, and a hospital transfer later, they are awaiting test results from a potato-sized tumor removed from her uterus, along with a fallopian tube and one ovary. Results will come in the next couple of days.

I sat in my car this morning, frazzled from trying to get two babies and three boys ready for the day. As I started the car I thought about how every day seems to be the same old, boring regimen. Then I thought of my friend and her terrible ordeal. I realized how fortunate I am to have such a monotonous morning today and every day. Monotony is not such a bad thing.

I’m a fortunate person. I have a lovely family full of love and grace, a lovely home to fit all of our love and grace, and all I ever hoped and dreamed of having. We have a roof over our heads, food on the table, and no more health concerns than some runny noses and, currently, one ear infection. Life is good.

Follow-up: H. is home from the hospital with good news. No cancer!! She is recovering, swamped with balloons, flowers, stuffed animals, and treats. Mom and Dad are thrilled! I’m sure they are looking forward to some monotony!

Buried Treasure??

There are guys jack hammering outside our house right now. It's shaking the house and VERY loud! Unfortunately the babies are both asleep and I am quite certain they will wake up from the noise. It irritated me until just now...

Lance has been looking out the window, wondering what they are doing. It looks to me like they are replacing a block of the sidewalk which was marked with an "X" because it was unsafe. Lance has been talking aloud about their possible motivations for doing this work and finally has come up with the perfect solution. "Mom, they are looking for buried treasure! They found the X and are now digging up the treasure." He continues to watch to see if they bring up a treasure chest.

Oh, to be four again! At least I got a good laugh out of it and the babies are still asleep! What a wonderful thing!

POSTLOGUE: The jackhammering didn't wake up Kate, but the sound of Lance exclaiming,"Yummy!" to my chocolate chip cookies did. Just goes to show how delicious my cookies are!

Luke's Favorite Trick

Luke is amazing me every day with his new talents. It's hard to keep up with everything he can do, but I will share his funniest thing right now.

A couple of days ago, I went to lift him out of his crib. He was laying down and I bent over to say hello and he shook his head. I laughed and he laughed. He did it again, I laughed harder and he laughed harder. Now it was a game! I took him downstairs and he shook his head "no", so I shook my head "yes". Then he shook his head "yes". The game continues.

The game has evolved into a certain "Mystery Eight Ball" fun. I will ask him a question and he will respond with a yes or a no, the fun is that you never know if it is a yes or a no. Ask if you are looking particularly cute today and you may get a "no", but you may get a "yes" if you ask him if he's a turkey! What fun!

Another little trick coming from him is the violent nodding of his head when he hears music. He likes to dance on his knees with the head swinging! So cute!

Homeless Panic!

I took the babies and four year-old Lance to Alexandria today to meet my friend Jen and her children. We met at a park which was our second home when we lived there. Two of my children went to preschool there, I met my girlfriends there all the time for coffee and doughnuts, and I even went there in high school to play wallyball and swim. I know the place inside and out, I feel safe there.

My sense of safety was compromised as we arrived and I saw a homeless man sleeping on a picnic table about fifty feet from the playground. I hated myself for feeling so anxious. The bleeding heart liberal in me SO, SO wanted to not panic about the man innocently sleeping there. "Where else is he going to sleep?" I asked myself, trying to take pity on him. I didn't want Jen to see I had lost the "city" in me, acting as nonchalant as I could, knowing I hadn't seen a homeless person in a couple of years and my "Mama Bear" instincts of protecting my cubs were kicking in. I had to convince myself mentally I was okay with allowing my children, including my two babies, play within feet of this man.

Jen, in the meantime, doesn't see the guy until five minutes after we arrive. She shows no signs of complete panic, conflict or dismay. She is completely fine with him being there.

I was silently grateful Kyle and Trent weren't with us. I wasn't prepared to answer my own questions, much less theirs. While their questions would probably focus on this man's plight, my questions focused more on why I was so afraid. Scenarios ran through my mind of how I could gather all my children (two of whom couldn't walk and weigh about 50 lbs. combined) and run should this guy start to go mad. I tried to act cool, but in my mind this homeless man was really a nuisance and was ruining my fun with Jen.

Dammit! This just isn't like me! I'm a liberal and a city girl! I'm used to homeless people walking around! I've been panhandled more times than I can count! I should care about this man! I should be giving him to shirt off my back and a warm meal! I'm a liberal and a city girl...right? I have an "Obama '08" sticker on the back of my car for goodness sakes! What the heck is wrong with me???

So then the cops arrive... Someone has called the cops because they see a threat in this man innocently sleeping on the picnic table. It wasn't me, I swear, but I did find a since of relief that someone was going to do something. Until Jen comes over and says, "I want to go over to that guy and tell him to get up and walk away before the cops get to him." She says it over and over, but doesn't do it. I think she senses my hesitation. My response, "What are the cops going to do, arrest him? They are going to tell him to go away, that's it." My adrenaline starts to kick in as the cops walk closer to the guy and I sense a confrontation about to begin. I try not to stare but catch glimpses as the cops talk to the homeless man.

Of course, there are no confrontations and of course the guy gets up and walks away. The cops go their separate ways and the play date continues likes nothing has happened. Because nothing has happened!!! Jen and I don't speak about it again and we go get coffee, a typical ending to a typical play date.

Maybe from time to time, people need this kind of experience to get a reality check on their positions. While I can volunteer at my kids' schools, donate items to the local hospice, give to Heifer International and buy boxes and boxes of Girl Scout cookies, can I really say I am the non-biased, caring, giving person I aspire to be? Of course we all have inner prejudices, I just thought I was much more open-minded than my thoughts allowed this morning.

I still have a lot of learning to do.

I Didn't Realize I Lived in the Country...Until Now!

I'm in the checkout line of the grocery store yesterday with the twins and Lance our four year-old. While we're waiting for the woman ahead of us to finish, I load my groceries on the belt...a rotisserie chicken, some frozen veggies, and four gallons of milk. The woman was very friendly, flirting with the babies and talking to Lance about the ins and outs of being a big brother. The cashier, Betsy, who incidentally has taken a liking to our family and knows all of our children by name, says to the woman ahead of me, "Do you think their family go through a lot of milk?" The woman ahead of me laughs and I say, "Well normally I don't get my milk from here but I ran out before I could pick it up from my dairy co-op."

Let me explain. I order my milk, eggs, yogurt, ice cream and sometimes other items from a local dairy. All of their produce is organic and cheaper than at the store, plus I think it tastes SO much better! I order every other week and have to pick it up every other Tuesday. Sometimes we drink more milk than I ordered for those two weeks, so I was at the grocery store getting more milk to last until this Tuesday when I pick up more.

Okay, so back to the grocery store... I get up to Betsy and she asked me if I own a cow. At first I thought it was a little joke about how much milk I was purchasing as we tend to go through about a gallon a day, but she was being serious. She explained, "A lot of our customers share or lease a cow and get their milk from it." I explained my dairy co-op situation to her and she said that she guessed leasing a cow wouldn't be good for us since these were people who were looking for raw milk.

Ok...yuck!

Anyway, I left with my four gallons of milk and laughed. I have been called a cow (and worse) before and felt much like a cow while nursing, but I have never been asked if I own a cow before. I guess I really am in the country...sigh.

Hard, hard day

Steve and Spencer in 1994!

Today was a long day.

One of those days you dread...restless sleep and anxiety the night before, wishing the morning would never come so you don't have to face the day. When the sun comes up over the mountain, your body becomes a knot of wrenching tightness. Today is the day, the day we have been dreading. Today is the day we lost our beloved dog.

Really it should be a sense of relief. Our Spencer, who we have had for 15 years since I was in college, was in pain and he wasn't going to get any better. His hips made it difficult for him to do the things he wanted to do and his quality of life was diminishing. It should be a comfort to know he is not suffering any longer, it should be a comfort to know he had a wonderful life, but it's not.

We made the oh-so difficult decision on Thursday to do it. We would have done it on Friday, but it was Kyle's birthday so we waited until today. I kept hoping his little ticker would give out before the day came, but he's a fighter! He made it until Monday, so now we have the chore of taking care of our little puppy-dog as good owners should.

I wanted to scream, "We can't do this!" I wanted to call Steve and tell him, "NO! Come home!" (Thank goodness for my husband who went with him to comfort him during his last breath. Honey, you are a good man!) We made the appointment, surely we could cancel it. This thought made it even harder to bear losing him, we could still have him here with us. It breaks my heart!

Kyle and Trent took it very hard. We told them when they came home from school that Spencer died while at the vet's office when the vet was trying to make him feel better. Not a lie... Just the omission that your parents made this decision. They cried and cried some more after we told them we couldn't go get another puppy. Thankfully we still have our loving, though slightly goofy, Willie to keep our spirits high and to save our house from feeling too empty.

Willie...poor Willie! He kept looking around the house all day. It broke my heart. Although he and Spencer haven't romped around for a long time, they looked out for one another. Willie seems a bit depressed, but aren't we all?

I keep telling myself we did the right thing. Spencer is out of pain, a pain from which he could not recover. Painlessness is comforting, but our loss will take a long time to heal.

Spencer, buddy, I miss you. I miss your constant knocks on the door to be let inside or out. I miss the clicks of your nails on the floor. I miss you cleaning up after the babies or prodding them for more Cheerios. I miss things about you I haven't even realized yet I miss. You were a great dog. Thank you for being a part of our family.

Autobiography as a Haiku

This was an article I submitted to the Washington Post for their now-defunct "Autobiography as a Haiku" section. It was to describe yourself in 100 words or less. (I had trouble with keeping it below 100 words.) Alas, it wasn't selected but I can post whatever I want on my blog so here goes...

Typical Saturday morning… Husband in garage, our three boys outside playing, and me doing chores. Out the window, I see my baby start to cross the street oblivious to the nearing SUV. I run to save my precious baby, knowing I will never make it in time. The SUV misses him within inches. I scoop my baby up, scared as hell and grateful for his precious life.

Typical Saturday afternoon… We eat lunch, the baby sleeps, and our boys look for their next adventure. I continue to replay the day’s event in my head. This day was anything but typical.

My Guide to Bedrest

Bedrest stinks! Don't let anyone else tell you any different. My girlfriend, Kathleen, lives in Alabama so she spent a lot of time on the phone listening to my complains of boredom and frustration. She decided to try it out for herself. One Saturday morning, she told her husband she was on bedrest and he was on duty with their three girls. She snuggled in with the tv remote and stayed in bed until that afternoon. She said it was delightful and wouldn't hear any more of my complaints!



All kidding aside, bedrest stinks for everyone involved, but there are some things you can do to make it a little easier on yourself.

• Get some help - You are going to need someone despite your insistence you're fine. I had three older kids who needed attention and I couldn't manage more than a couple of hours with them alone. I was fortunate enough to have a husband who had some flexibility in his work schedule and in-laws who were there for us for four weeks. I never thought it would have to ask for so much help, but necessity breeds invention and we got creative with child care for a bit. We couldn't have done it without Phil and Joyce, my in-laws, but you will find some people who can help you.


• Change the scenery - I was fortunate enough to be able to do stairs once a day and reserved it for dinnertime so I could be with my family. By the time I was done, I was ready to get back in bed because I was so uncomfortable. Knowing I am the type of person who gets cabin fever, I made sure to change the room enough so it didn't seem like I was in bed all day. I got showered and got dressed, made my bed, and opened the blinds to let in the light. I didn't sleep much during the day, but was able to get a good night's sleep almost every night.


• Encourage visitors - I was fortunate enough many people wanted to come see me (maybe they were looking for the spectacle as people do when looking at a train wreck!). You are going to have to get over the fact people are coming up to your personal space and they are going to have to get over it as well. Our room is large enough we have a love seat in there where some people would sit, but most just sat or laid on the bed with me. The only person I met downstairs was my former boss, and you can make those exceptions too.


• Have fun - It may sound weird, but there are some fun things to do while on bedrest. I played a lot of games and read a lot of books with the kids. Steve brought picnic lunches up for us and Lance, they would spread out a blanket on the floor and picnic (Lance loved it). My friend, Chris, brought me lunch from my favorite place in town. The boys and I snuggled a lot and watched tv. It was nice to talk to them about their day since I couldn't be there.

You mean twins don't work like that???

My girlfriend, Lisa, and her seven year-old daughter, Sarah Beth, were out to our house this week. She is very enamoured with the babies and loves to hold them and play with them. She loves to talk about the fact they are twins, but one thing confounded her...

She saw that Luke had two teeth and Kate is still toothless. She asked me, "Who is older?" When I told her Kate was older by 11 minutes, she told me Kate should be the one with teeth. I think she thought that Kate will get a tooth and 11 minutes later Luke will get a tooth! Kate will poop and 11 minutes later, Luke will poop. Actually that DOES happen, but then Kate poops 11 minutes later and so on! :)

Silly Yak...Not Again!

I had an endoscopy this week. I wasn't nervous, the nurses laughed at me as they were prepping me because I was really looking forward to the nap. They were checking to see if I had Celaic Disease (pronounced Silly Yak), an intolerance to gluten, an ingredient most often found in breads, pastries and things made with flour. So I was off to a drug-induced nap!

Let me back up a bit. After I had Trent, I lost a ton of weight, had a lot of stomach cramping and other bad digestive issues all the time. I felt miserable! My GI doctor at the time did an endoscopy on me with the diagnosis of Celiac Disease. I went off gluten for a couple of months and felt tons better. I gradually started eating gluten again and felt fine until I had the twins. After the babies were born, I was miserable again. I went off gluten, felt better, and gradually started eating it again...no problem!

Until...Kyle started having problems. He was cramping up and had some different gastrointestinal problems. We took him to a specialist who performed an endoscopy on him. Fortunately he doesn't have Celiac Disease and the search continues for solving his little belly mystery. As I was talking to his doctor about my diagnosis and how I had been asymptomatic for a while, he said the tests are much better now than they were six years ago and I should get retested. Maybe I wasn't really a Celiac! What really woke me up was that people with Celiac Disease who continue to eat gluten are 20 times more likely to get small bowel cancer!!! That scared me! I needed answers and was ready for another nap...I mean, endoscopy!

I woke up to bad news. My doctor told me she has never seen someone she can tell has the disease without a biopsy. While she sent some biopsies to the lab, she said the damage in my small intestine was so bad she already knows I have Celiac Disease. I was bummed. I honestly thought it was hormonal. This sucks! I went out to lunch with Steve after the procedure and looked at the menu. Damn, damn, damn! I can't eat this, that, or the other! We drove by restaurants and I thought, "What am I going to eat there from now on?" No more ice cream cones, no more birthday cake!

I thought this will put a damper on my healthier eating habits, but I was wrong. I went to Wegman's after the diagnosis and found a huge section with gluten-free food. A bonus is that most of the stuff also is organic and without refined sugar. I'm not a big fan of pasta or pizza to begin with, so I won't miss those much. Sandwiches will be hard, I haven't found a tasty bread out there yet, but I can survive.

I resolve to be good about the diet but not neurotic. I won't worry if my friends don't want to invite me over for dinner because I'm too high maintenance, I gave up worrying about that about the time I had my third child! Going out to eat will be a challenge, but in a pinch I can always get a salad. Maybe I'll save money by not going out so much! Maybe I'll feel that much better as I eat better!

The diagnosis of my Silly Yak is not the end of the world! I need to realize the doctor could have found much worse and I am grateful she didn't. I vow to remember that as I eat my rice cakes and pass on the birthday cake.

Sneaky, sneaky!

You may have heard...I am trying to integrate healthy eating habits in my family. It's going pretty well, we have definitely been eating more fruits and veggies. The kids have even started getting into the habit of asking for them for snacks. I'm feeling pretty good about it! We've had our ups and downs though.

One "up":
This weekend I was making dinner. We were just having left-overs, cleaning out the fridge of all food not eaten from previous meals. I actually look forward to left-over nights, it's a time I get to see who liked what the best. It's a good tool for me. Anyway, I had this bag of two cucumber sticks and (what I thought was) a half of cucumber. Lance is really into eating cucumbers right now so these were going to go on his plate. As I examined the half cucumber, I realized it was zucchini instead. I thought, "Why not?" and prepared it as I did the cucumber earlier. He ate it like a champ, no questions! There was one moment I thought it was going to backfire when he made an ugly face as he ate a piece, but, as those of you with kids know, kids like to make ugly faces. This is especially true when their brothers are sitting across the table! Score one for mom!

One "down":
One of my new books has great recipes for kids. I decided to try a muffin recipe for breakfast last week. My friend Michelle said they were delicious. They have no refined sugar, whole-wheat flour, and lots of shredded apples and carrots. Healthy and delicious! I tried them and they were pretty good. As I was making them, I knew I was going to have to come up with a different name for them. Apple-Carrot Muffins was not going to go over very well. I called them "Superman Muffins" because they would make the boys so much more "super". I made twelve of them, I ate two and the dogs ate one. Nobody would touch them! Rats! They're here for another couple of days if you want to try them.

Kate!

I've been asked to post a picture of Kate, so here you go dear friend of mine!

Kate is an enigma to me. Girls have always been a foreign concept to me, I never thought I would get one. I used to love hearing stories about girls and the differences between girls and boys, and I always said I was a better mom to boys than girls. I don't know if that is true or not anymore, I guess time will tell.

The interesting thing about it is that I never realized how much I wanted a girl until I had one.

Luke!

My little Luke, also known as "Ukey, Ukey, Ukey" in some parts (especially the South), is such a great little guy! He has two wonderful smiles, one with his mouth wide-open and beaming eyes and another as he sucks his bottom with a grin. The latter is new since his first tooth! His laughs are just contagious, big belly laughs nothing short of hilarious due to not much more than a glance from anyone. He's a super-happy guy and so much fun to be around!

But he's got this issue I cannot figure out. He loves to wake up and hang out within the 5 o'clock hour. Granted, I love the boy and love to spend time with him but I also like to sleep! This is a problem.

He usually wakes up singing. He'll make musical noises in his crib until one of us goes to get him. He wakes up with one of those aforementioned grins and a squeal of delight. Baby talk for "Good morning, great to see you!" If we don't go in there quickly enough, he usually will serenade us for about five minutes before frustration sets in, he will start to cry. Alas, we would prefer to go in to a squealing baby rather than a fuss-bucket!

I would like to think he just wants to spend some quality time with me. I sometimes feel like I'm short-changing my kids, especially the babies, because I cannot spend as much quality time with each one as I would like. I'm a busy mom with five kids, unfortunately there's a lot to do! So maybe he just needs some one-on-one time with me. Honestly, I could think of better times. I look very haggardly when I wake up before the sun, my breath is atrocious, and I'm grumpy (coffee can take the edge off, but it's not a perfect solution). I don't want to spend any time with me, why would this little guy?

We've tried letting him cry but he will just get hysterical and usually wakes up Kate. We've tried pelting him with food at night to ward off the morning hungry pains. We've tried getting him to sleep later but then we are just burning the candle at both ends. Nothing seems to help!

Today he woke up at 4:59, a minute before Steve's alarm went off. I got him up, changed his diaper, and made him a bottle and me some coffee. We went downstairs and played and I read the paper. I do enjoy the quiet time in the house, it is quite peaceful, but I would trade it in a heartbeat for another two hours of sleep.

Fast-forward two and a half hours. Kate wakes up with a big grin and a desire to play. Luke is crabby and wants to go back to sleep...me too! I get her up, he goes to sleep. Sweet dreams my little one!

My day is just beginning!

A Big Challenge

I have come to realize through much experiences and observations that I am not the mom I want to be. I know we are not all perfect, but there are certainly many ways for me to improve. I don't want to change the world, just tweak my world a little bit.

My kids are picky. My husband is picky. I am told I am picky too, though I disagree with this a bit. I read an article a couple of months ago in the Washington Post about picky eaters. The article talked about "supertasters", people whose sense of taste and texture is much more heightened than most. Steve whole-heartedly subscribes to this position. He has always been a picky eater, mostly with vegetables, saying the texture just isn't good. I think he sees it as an excuse and another way to be "super." The article also said people who eat one item at a time on their plate (that's me!) are picky. I would say that it has less to do with pickiness and a lot more to do with my OCD (something I may address another time), but call it what you like! My kids basically follow in their dad's footsteps. They see his nose flare at the green beans (texture!) and suddenly I'm the bad guy for even thinking they should put this toxic, green vegetable in their bodies. A mushroom may put them over the edge.

We have made some subtle changes over the years. We switched to Ovaltine rather than Hershey's Syrup for chocolate milk, use 1% rather than 2% milk (skim milk may be in our future), water down all juice for the kids, and I make my own popsicles to cut down on sugar. My kids take their lunches to school so I can see what they're eating. I even belong to a local CSA for organic fruits and vegetables and a local dairy co-op for organic milk and eggs. I have bought a couple of books to lead me in the right direction and a couple more for recipes once I am there. I am armed with all the ammunition, let's roll!

My first step is to encourage five servings of fruits and veggies a day. I will keep you updated! Wish me luck!

These are a few of my favorite things...eating edition

• Popcorn
• Fruity frozen things (popsicles, sorbet)
• Yellow cake batter
• Bananas (perfectly ripe)
• Margaritas (frozen, no salt)
• Baby toes!

These are a few of my favorite things...smelly edition

• Playdough
• Purple (grape) kool-aid
• Bubble gum
• Freshly mowed grass
• BBQs
• Clean babies
• Dirty, smelly kids who've had a great time playing outside all day
• Wood fires
• Banana baby food in a jar

Nanny, Nanny...Boo, Hoo!

We are on the hunt for a nanny. I have been conflicted about this decision to begin with, mainly because it is so difficult for me to ask for help. As the summer nears, and I realize the older boys aren't going to have as many excursions as I would like with the babies, I thought it is now time to get some help. Steve is also starting a new job in mid-June which will make his time less flexible, which is what kind of got this process started.

I began getting the word out. I put a couple of ads on Craigslist, asked some friends and neighbors if they knew anyone, and even asked at the PTO meeting. Surprisingly, the most responses I got were on Craigslist, but, not so surprisingly, most were not good candidates. Though I was specific in where we live, some wanted to know if we were Metro accessible. (um...hello? We live fifty miles from DC!) Others wanted me to come pick them up. (um...) I did get a couple of good candidates so I scheduled some interviews.

I am looking for someone who can just give me an extra set of hands for about 10 hours a week. My hours are completely flexible, I can schedule my life around when I will have help, and it really is just a luxury for me and my family for us to get out and do things. Maybe we could even find someone who could watch the kids at night so Steve and I could have a date! Other than that, I really don't have many expectations...or at least I thought!

The first interview was interesting. The woman spoke some English, but was pretty difficult to understand. I was open to the idea of her speaking Spanish to our kids, I actually thought it would be awesome to expose them to a different language. She seemed to love the babies, her eyes lighting up and joyfully saying "twins?!?" when she saw there were two, but really didn't seem to savor the idea of hanging out with the older boys. I knew she wasn't the one for us when I asked her what she did for fun. "Fun? What do you mean?" (sigh) I couldn't picture myself having conversations with this woman pool-side, which made me realize I may be looking for some thing more than just a nanny. I am looking for someone with whom I can interact with as well.

Our second interview was more promising. She is a nanny for another family three days a week and a mom of an eight month-old boy who she brings along with her. This raises a red-flag for me. I am having trouble juggling two babies, how will she juggle three? Later, after speaking with her a little bit, another red-flag came to my attention. I didn't even think about how her baby would react to seeing her with other babies. (sigh) Of course, our conversations with this woman went smoothly. She has the same ideas about discipline as we do, seemed really energetic and peppy, and didn't seem overwhelmed with our five children. She even has a six year-old step-son who goes to the same school as Trent and Kyle, so she knows how to handle older children as well. While I really like her, I'm not sure she is the best candidate with her baby in tow.

We have another interview on Thursday. I am most hopeful about this one. She is a local high school student looking for a summer nanny position. I got her name through a friend who goes to the same church and this girl works in the nursery there. Since it will only be for the summer, it's not ideal. Hopefully, if it works out, we can get her on a limited basis during the school year or at least for an occasional babysitting. I will let you know how it goes.

Searching for a nanny is difficult! I am not struggling with the idea of leaving my children with a stranger as most parents who go through this interview process do. I will be with this person, getting to know him/her much before I left my children. (Wouldn't it be something if I ended up with a "Manny? I wonder how Steve would react, especially if he has Brad Pitt good looks? The boys would love it!) Steve will also be working from home about half of the time so he might hear if something was going on or if there was an emergency. The hardest part is finding someone who I like enough to have a relationship with, but someone who I could depart with if things didn't work out.

The search continues...

Five Months!

The babies are five months old! I can't believe it! Steve and I were reflecting how it seems like they have been a part of our lives forever, but it's only been five months. I don't know if that's good or bad. Nonetheless, it's been a wild ride! From the shock of finding out we were having two instead of one in June, to bed rest in October and November, and all of those spur of the moment hospital runs after counting contractions. I can't even tell you how many lists of counted contractions I found after they were born! And let's not forget the graceful fall I took off our porch! Our poor friend who turned around to find me laying belly-down on the ground. My apologies Jay!

After many, many sleepless nights we are finally sleeping! That seems to be the number one question we get from people. We separated the babies into separate cribs about a month ago after they kept punching and waking each other. Thankfully they don't seem to wake up to the other one crying because we can't separate them out of the same room! Okay, okay, you caught me! Kate has been sleeping in our room for about a month now. We started putting her in the swing to elevate her when she was congested and she started sleeping through the night. It's working for us and she will probably be in there until the swing won't move anymore from her weight. In other words, it won't budge from the pudge!

I get tons of people stopping me all the time when I'm with the babies. Everyone has a comment to make, and mostly these people are completely enjoyable to talk to. I've gotten a couple of "Double trouble" or "Better you than me" comments, but I know people mean this in a good way. I probably get the most comments when I'm in the grocery store pushing the double stroller and pulling a cart. I've got an awkward system that works for me, but it definitely catches people's eyes. My friend who also has twins (happy first birthday to them, by the way) is tired of the comments and stares and just wants to get her shopping done. For me, it's kind of a treat to have others enjoy looking at my babies. The funniest comment I always get is, "You sure do have your hands full!" while they see me with the babies and usually one other child. My response is, "You don't even know!" They are only seeing me with three of my kids! Funny!

I still struggle with trying not to short-change the babies. I gave up a long time ago worrying about my other boys. If you know them, you know they will not allow themselves to be forgotten! Kyle is so grown-up, thoughtful and helpful, Lance is stubborn but snuggly-sweet and Trent loves to sing and make up songs...more about that some other time. The babies, however, haven't figured out how to stand out from the crowd. I always feel torn who to go to when they are both crying, who should get a bottle and who I should nurse, who should get to sit in front in the stroller...the list goes on and on. I try to be equal in my endeavours and love, but am eternally grateful my older boys and my husband have so much love to give as well.

The fun has begun, however, in living with the babies! They are awake a lot more often then they were even a month ago, but are so much more entertaining. Kate has complete conversations with anyone who will talk to her, especially when talking to the baby in the mirror. Luke has this belly laugh which is absolutely contagious and he does it often! They will look at each other and smile, Kate will talk to Luke and he will giggle back. Very fun! Life is about to get a lot more interesting!

This is a great time to thank all of you again who have supported us through this exciting time of our lives. Phil and Joyce, THANK YOU! Our neighbors and friends who brought dinner and gifts, we are so grateful for you. My dear friends who have listened and supported me through the pregnancy, delivery, and first five months, I would not be sane without you! Steve...banana!

Some Recent Photos

Trent at the zoo!

Luke laughing!

Kate with her tongue out! Typical!

Lance reading to Luke.

Kyle hiding.

Being the mom of boys is hard!!!

I wrote this when we lived in Alexandria, but a recent event reminded me of it. Feel free to insert Lance or Kyle's name in place of Trent's, but Trent continues to know his way around the ladies best! If you have read this before, apologies!

My son is getting married! Trent and his girlfriend are in the kitchen right now planning the Big Event. Bella and Trent are exploring food options, the most pressing item of the moment is whether or not to have the wedding cake be chocolate. I feel for my son, he loves chocolate but will probably lose out to the more traditional vanilla. Bella has dreamed of this day her entire life, so vanilla it is. She wins that argument and moves on to how tall and elaborate the cake will be. “Maybe a fountain! Maybe fresh flowers! How about the bride and groom figurines, do you like the Lladro ones or the Precious Moments?” Trent doesn’t care what the cake looks like, he just wants chocolate.

I am listening to this conversation and trying not to interfere, but I am not happy about this arrangement. I know the future my son faces. I am a woman and I know the passionate, yet pointless, arguments my husband and I have. We fight over many little things, but they are big at the time. My husband knows if he wins an argument, he still will lose the war. Pouting, sulking, silent treatments, I do them all. They must be in the X chromosome. My poor Trent! What a sad future!

Then my mind races, "Oh my God! Forget his future, what about mine? My little baby loves someone else! I am no longer the number one woman in his life! I don’t want him to marry her! He’s not ready! Run, Trent, run!"

No, I am not being unreasonable. It seems like only yesterday we were snuggling on the couch and I was tucking him in bed. Wait! It was yesterday! You see, my little boy is only four. Bella and Trent are making the cake out of plastic food at the plastic kitchen. Later they will get out the dress up clothes. Bella will wear as much pink tulle as she weighs and Trent will find his Thing costume. What a sight! A real-life Beauty and the Beast.

Last year, when Trent was three, he met Bella. It wasn’t love at first sight, but they really seemed to have hit it off. They would play together at preschool, have periodic play dates, and then she started talking about their wedding. Her mother and I would laugh at the outrageousness of it all, Bella trying to get Trent to pretend to be the handsome prince while she went whole-hog with tiaras and sequins. It was all very innocent and cute.

Now, however, times have changed. The girls in is new class seem to have learned about Trent’s charming ways and irresistible good looks (he gets those from his dad’s side). The girls are clamoring! He comes home with love notes in his backpack and stories of playground kissing contests. The girls fight about who he loves most and who is going to marry him. It’s getting to be too much for me, he’s just a baby! I just want to scream, “HE’S MINE AND HE LOVES ME THE MOST!”

I get it, I really do. I used to be a little girl dreaming of my wedding day. Barbie, with her engagement ring poked through her hand, and Ken, with his muscular body and to-die-for blonde hair, would get married and drive off in that pink convertible every day at my house. I used to get dressed up in my mom’s old dresses and pretend I was a rock star, a princess or a bride. Yep, I know all about naming your babies at slumber parties and learning to kiss on my pillow. I remember. I did it all. Now that I’m a mom though, my perspective has changed. Lay off the boy!

I should be used to this by now. I have three boys and Trent is the middle one. My first son Kyle also has a lot of his father’s traits and is equally admired by girls. He has come home with similar stories of girls chasing him and stolen kisses. The phone hasn’t rung too much, but I’m afraid that’s next. Girls seem to love my boys. The difference between Kyle and Trent is that Kyle still thinks girls have the cooties and Trent just loves the attention. I worry about our last boy, Lance. I could have a real problem on my hands!

Don’t get me wrong, I have always wanted to be a good mother in-law. I have been blessed with a wonderful mother in-law (and I’m not just saying that because she might read this), but I have heard horror stories! My friend’s mother in-law went through her underwear drawer and pulled her husband aside to tell him that she should “wear cotton crotches because they are more hygienic”. I tell myself that won’t be me. Of course I will welcome any woman my boys bring home with open arms. There won’t be any of this silly jealousy or motherly interference when I become a mother in-law, I am SO above being petty. I will be cool, I won’t go through your underwear drawer.

Ladies, please give me some time. I need to be with my boys for a while before they take that giant leap beyond only having love for their mother. I promise to teach my boys how to treat you like a lady, be romantic and be a good father. He will learn how to wash dishes, do laundry, and cook gourmet meals. His father and I will give him the foundations for a fantastic family. I only ask for some time.

I promise to let go once all skills are mastered and he is grown up enough to be your Prince Charming. I’ll be ready. Come back and clamor in twenty years…or maybe thirty. Until then, I am keeping the backpack off-limits to notes and taking the phone off the hook!

Boys vs. Girls

Lance and Kyle were playing today. Kyle was absent due to a pending time bomb...more on that later. I didn't pay much attention, there were some planes and rockets, some action figures, and the two of them running around. There was some banter going back and forth and I started to pay attention and come up with a theory.

You see, the boys had a great conversation while they played. It went something like this:

Boy 1: "My plane is flying through the air."
Boy 2: "But my plane comes along and shoots at your plane. Bang! Bang!"
Boy 1: "But I go into a cloud so you can't find me."
Boy 2: "But my plane has a radar and can find you in the cloud. Bang! Bang!"
Boy 1: "But I have a shield that protects me from your bullets and it ricochets off of me into you. Direct hit!"
Boy 2: "But I have an ejector button and fly out of my plane with my parachute and land safely on the ground."
Boy 1: "But I eject from my plane too and come after you with my bazooka."
Boy 2: "But I turn on my invincibility so when you shoot me, I don't die."
Boy 1: "Me too!"

As a side note, we all should have the ability to turn on "invincibility" as a safe measure. I may not be an expert on how girls play, but I used to be one. Let's look at how girls play as I remember it:

Girl 1: "Let's play Barbies!"
Girl 2: "And I'll be Barbie!"
Girl 1: "And I'll be Ken, but I'm not really a boy.""
Girl 2: "And we fall deeply in love and we get married."
Girl 1: "And I wear a really pretty dress and look like a princess."
Girl 2: "And I am very handsome, but I'm not really a boy."
Girl 1: "And we live in a castle with beautiful flowers."
Girl 2: "And we live happily ever after."

As another side note, it's a fact no girl wants to be Ken, they must state throughout the play their disdain for this character.

Let's compare. Besides the obvious "Boys are violent and girls are sweet", let's dig a bit deeper. Boys are all about the "buts"and girls are all about the "ands". Their sentences continue each other thoughts, boys with the competitive "but" with another outrageous way to get away from danger and girls with the team-building "and" with another idea to make the characters happily ever after.

As I listened to Lance and Kyle today, it made me laugh. Their keen abilities to get away from danger time after time just struck me funny. When all else fails, don't forget to turn on invincibility!

Conversely Speaking

Happy 100th birthday Converse!

I always have wanted a pair of Converse shoes. Remember the days of Cyndi Lauper and Punky Brewster? Their Converse hi-top Chuck Taylors with the funky colors always were turned down, I wanted that look. Unfortunately, at the time I was not paying for my own shoes and my mother much preferred the subdued white Nikes to any pink, purple and red hi-tops. Mom won, Chuck lost. I remained very uncool in the shoe category.

As I grew older and saw the kind of people who wore Chuck Taylors, my desire for them waned. They were much more of the "grunge" look than I was going for. Kurt Cobain and the rest of "Nirvana" wore them. In fact, they have a new design out right now honoring Kurt with his signature on the heel. My brother still likes them, I can't tell you the last time I saw him in any other shoe but Chuck Taylors. Needless to say, his grungy style does not fit with my "soccer mom" image. He likes his look with the Yosemite Sam mustache, baggy jeans, and his favorite black t-shirt with "jackass" (as in Steve-O and Johnnie Knoxville) boldly written on it. No offense to my brother, but until he starts shopping at Land's End and J. Crew or I go to the Salvation Army or any novelty t-shirt place, we won't have the same style.

So I was very conflicted recently when I received a children's shoe catalog in the mail and saw the cutest Converse shoes. They were low-rise canvas shoes with multi-colored stars all over them. Super cute! I wanted them! They would go so well with my jeans and any colored t-shirt I own. I'd never seen any other shoes so cute, I'd be the talk of the town! (We live in a small town, not much else to talk about!) However, these shoes which I longed for were in the children's catalog. Bummer!

I was reminded once again of those cute shoes today as I read the paper. On the front page of the Style section was an article about Converse's birthday. I went to their website, hoping and praying I would be able to find my newest conquest. Their website is amazing! Converse has a ton of different styles, fabrics, patterns, and colors. You can create your own shoes, designing the side panels, tongue, heel, rubber sole, and even the shoelace patterns and/or colors! Absolutely fantastic! It could get a little on the obsessive, bordering on crazy side...but fantastic! If you want to check it out the website is http://www.converse.com/.

After much web searching, I found lots of patterns and styles. I can get skull and crossbones (maybe a gift idea for my brother) or animal print, but no multi-colored stars. I may have to live vicariously through my daughter and get them for her in a couple of years! Lucky girl!

The Making of a Great Day

Okay, it's been awhile. I know, I know! All of you folks out there (I'm sure there are millions) enjoying this blog must be sitting on the edge of your seat waiting to hear the wonderfully wise words I spew out. I can tell there are so many of you by the numerous comments I get...oh wait! Nonetheless, this blog is more about me and less about you so I will move on.

Today has been an extremely good day, though from the surface it won't seem that way. Luke is consistently sleeping through the night, and Kate isn't. In fact, she has been congested and is sleeping quite rottenly (is that a word?) and grunting while she breathes. Trent woke up in the middle of the night with a high fever, so high I didn't even take his temperature and just gave him medicine. I didn't send him to school which broke his heart, it was "Twins/Triplets Day" at school and he and his friends had decorated shirts to wear. Steve left super early this morning to catch a train in DC to go to NYC for the day so I was on my own for the morning routine. This can go either really well or really bad, depending on the number of times I hit the snooze button and the number of babies awake while I'm scrambling up some eggs. Then I have to drag four kids to the doctor's office because Kate and Luke have their four-month checkups today. (Kate weighed 13 lbs. 3 oz. and Luke weighed a whopping 15 lbs 2 oz.) Kate needs to be nebulized 3-4 times a day due to her congestion and wheezing and Luke has a heart murmur (!) and needs to be seen by a Cardiologist.

None of those things really sound like the start of a great day, do they? In fact considering these things all happened before 9 am, it could have been a really bad day. It wasn't. Trent and Lance were actually complimented by the crotchety pediatrician about how well-behaved they were during the babies' appointment, the weather was absolutely lovely and spring is coming, and I was able to complete some projects I've had going on around here. The kids got along really well and the weather is gorgeous. (It's the small things.) The boys and I didn't go many places today, and the babies were tired from their shots, so we actually had some conversations. Some were worthwhile, others were not. The most recent happened while I was helping Lance in the shower tonight and he was trying to "get my tush shiny" (his tush, not mine). We agreed the job was done when I needed to get the sunglasses out due to the shine! I don't think I have ever taken a shower asking myself, "Is your tush shiny enough yet?" but I may now!

The house is not spic and span and my husband is coming home late, to mention only two of my woes for the evening. I have no complaints, for I am a blessed woman with plenty of time to clean the house another time! For now, I will appreciate what I have.

Why I Love Costco

Okay, Costco has got to be the best store going. Whether you are buying for two people, as my in-laws do, or an army, as I do, Costco is your store! Where else can you find clothes, food, computers, lawn and garden, and furniture all under one roof with samples around every corner? Are you kidding me?!? This store is the best!

Steve's parents, Phil and Joyce, like to "graze" (their words, not mine) when shopping at Costco. They sample everything and critique what they just ate. Then they come home with a rotisserie chicken ($4.99), maybe some grapes and cheese, and whatever they may have enjoyed when grazing. The chicken is great for two dinners and chicken sandwiches the next day. It's perfect for them and they love it! In fact, as they are currently gypsies and travelling in their RV, and I can almost guarantee they know the location of every Costco from Pennsylvania to Florida. It's almost unbelievable they bought a house in NC far from one. When they come up to our house, they are itching to get to our Costco as soon and as often as possible.

For me, Costco is a shopping mecca. Do I need an 8 lbs. bag of frozen crinkle-cut french fries? How about 3 dozen eggs? 96 loads worth of laundry detergent? Yes, yes, yes! I just can't leave there without a cartload of stuff worth more than a day's worth pay. The worst part is trying to fit it all in the cart and taking it all home.

It's when I get home from Costco I hate! There is no easy way to carry in four gallons of milk at the same time. Everything is so big and bulky and hard to carry. I ask 4 year-old Lance to carry in the three 48 oz. bottles of ketchup and he says, "Are you insane?" Honestly it is a lot to ask! He carries in the packages of toothpaste (four tubes!) and toothbrushes (10 of them) instead. I struggle with where to put it all, but the accomplishment when it's all put away is so fulfilling.

And if, in the end, you still can't find what you are looking for or you just can't face going home yet, park your cart, go to the cafe and get a hot dog and soda for a buck fifty! Can't beat it!