Twin Talk: Whooshing Boogies

There's an awful lot of talk about taboo topics going on at my house. "Bathroom words" and boogies are the most popular topics between my four year olds. They laugh about it and make jokes. They even sing about it. It's a little off-putting, but I suppose it's normal and I've sort of gotten used it, being immersed in a world of boys. Every once in while, though, their conversation goes beyond what sort of silly experience they imagine having in a bathroom that makes me chuckle. Here's how a conversation went in the car yesterday on our way to the vet (which is next to a grocery store):

Jonathan: "'Member when we took Horo to the vet and we saw that kitty in the cage?"

James: "Yeah, if Dada were there, he would go, "A-A-Achooooo" and whoosh his boogies all over the bakers!"

Confessions of a Wannabe Hockey Mom

We’re a football family. Dan played in a semi-pro league for years and coached two seasons of high school football before the boys were born. To us, Fall is more than pumpkins and cooler weather (maybe), it’s football season and sounds of whistles and crunching helmets waft out of our family room on a nearly continuous note. Our blood runs blue and gold and when we found out we were having boys, Dan immediately began plotting where we could fit blocking dummies in the backyard.

Naturally, we were quite surprised when, a little over a year ago; Jonathan’s obsession with hockey began to percolate. This is weird for a few reasons:

1. We live in Phoenix where ice is about as hard to come by as snow flurries at Christmas.

2. We’ve never taken the boys to a game and have only seen about a total of 30 minutes on T.V.

Nevertheless, our oldest son is steadfast in his dedication to a sport he hardly knows.

“Jonathan, what sport do you want to play?”

“Hockey.”

“Jonathan, there’s a football game on T.V. Wanna watch with me?”

“No, Dada. I want to watch hockey.” It leaves us scratching our heads.

So, we did what any red-blooded American parent would do and researched ice skating lessons, the building blocks to hockey. Which, by the way, isn’t cheap. I’m considering taking on another job.

We roped James in on the deal, too, because let’s face it – when you’re the mom of twins, you know anything one of them does, the other one wants to do, too. Only better.

The boys’ had their first lesson two weeks ago and it ROCKED. It was so much fun watching our little guys out on the ice learning to “march,” fall and get back up again. They looked so cute in their little helmets taking the tiniest of steps in an attempt to stay upright on their skates. Suffice it to say, their little buns were soaking wet by the end of the lesson!

The boys had a great time and talked non-stop about it afterwards. I was proud of them for trying something new. After turning in their rented skates, we wandered over to the hockey rink to watch a league game. The boys were mesmerized by the kids whizzing by, shooting the puck all over the ice. These kids were good and their parents were equally as talented at yelling out commands and, upon a scored goal, jumping to their feet and pounding their hands on the glass.

It have to admit, it was pretty cool.

Hockey is a sport I have little to no knowledge of, but I’m anxious to learn about it. I’m really hoping the boys like their skating lessons enough to continue onto hockey. I wouldn’t mind toting around all that gear and spending oodles of money on skates. Pounding on the glass wouldn’t be so bad, either.

Ways to Beat the Heat #87: Splash Paddin'

Twin Talk: Getting in "There"

Lately, the boys have been fascinated with hearing about their time in "Mommy's tummy." They routinely ask the same questions:
 - "Did I laugh at Ja-Ja's hiccups in your tummy?" (yes, it sure felt like it)
- "Mommy, did I eat what you ate?" (absolutely...and to this day I can't understand why you don't like Soft Taco Supremes).

Last week, on our way home from swim lessons, the conversation took an interesting turn, especially coming from a couple of four year olds.

Boy: "Mommy, was I in your tummy for a long time?

Me: "Not very long. As soon as you were done growing, you were born."

Boy: "How did I come out?"

Me: "The doctor made a little cut in my tummy and pulled you out." (having a c-section makes this conversation a bit easier)!

Boy: "How did I get in there?"

Me: *cue deer-in-the-headlights look here* "Ummm..."

Dear Husband: "God knew Mommy and Daddy wanted a baby and put you in Mommy's tummy."

Boy: "Yeah, but how did I get in there?"

Dear Husband: "....who wants ice cream?!"

Whew...I will be avoiding that conversation for a while!

Lovely Surprises

We had a fantastic weekend. I anticipated being immersed in yard work, and instead, we did a lot of playing. We dined at Bucca di Beppo, took the boys to see Rio, lunched with my mom, got our favorite Chinese takeout with my in laws and the boys had their first ice skating lesson in preparation for hockey lessons!

To top it off, this was delivered to our door Friday afternoon, courtesy of my thoughtful sister.

Thanks, Ames!

And then, found this on our doorstep Saturday night from our new neighbors wishing me a Happy Mother's Day!

For a variety of reasons, leading up to the weekend, I wasn't feeling very celebratory. The main reason being I've been thinking a lot about a friend of mine who recently lost her baby. How heartbreaking Mother's Day must be for her when she doesn't have her sweet daughter to cuddle and hold. I've also been consumed thinking about a friend of a friend - a mom whose young son is struggling to fight the cancer that has invaded his little body. She holds her son, realizing she may not be able to for long. Please pray for little Ronan. You can read his mom's blog here.

This, of course, has had me thinking, Who the heck am I to accept a day to "celebrate" Mom's when motherhood itself is such a gift?

Bug Hunters

We're into bugs over here in boyland. Looking at them, touching them, studying them and talking about them...which means, as their mom, I can't be grossed out by them. At all. I must celebrate and covet their weirdness and stifle any and every urge I have to slide my shoe off and karate-chop them into oblivion.

So far, we haven't run into anything I can't handle, but I fully expect that to change one of these days. Maybe I should start double knotting the laces on my shoes.