Musings of a Twin Mama

My Ace of Cakes

2012-02-02T13:55:00.000-07:00

I've got to give some mad-props to my husband for the fantastic birthday cake he created for the boys' birthday. Optimus Prime! As much as my Type-A side hates to admit it, I pretty much suck at decorating their cakes. Like, a lot. Give me a cake pan with some sort of shape and design to it and maybe I can trace some (semi) straight lines, but beyond that, I banish myself to being the sous to my husband's chef. While he gathers designs and lays plans, I bake sheet cakes (this year it took five) and make enough frosting to coat our driveway and let him go to town.

He makes some pretty fun stuff and all three of us love him for it.

Big Eaters Circle

2012-01-26T08:00:00.000-07:00

When the boys were babies, I developed an intense hatred for baby bottles. I hated preparing them, warming them and helplessly watching my precious babies drink from them. They were a glaring reminder of the gigantic failure I felt I had become as a mother.

I sucked at breastfeeding. And I hated myself for it.

From birth, the boys' weren't great eaters and James suffered through reflux and allergies. Born early and small, we were concerned with putting weight on their little bodies and practically pulled our hair out measuring their intake and worried when they didn't eat enough.

Needless to say, feeding time was a stressful time in our house and the rows of bottles lined up on our kitchen counter every day symbolized those feelings.

So, when it came time to introduce solids to the boys, I could not have been more enthusiastic. Finally! A reprieve from relying on those stupid bottles for 100% of the boys' nutrition and well-being.

This week, I wrote a story about making homemade baby food and it brought back all sorts of happy memories of making the boys' food. I only made about half of their food myself, but it gratified me in ways I never could have imagined. For one, they took to solids really well and seemed to like nearly everything we fed them. Secondly, I felt more involved in their growth and development, which helped me get over the guilt.

Just a little.

And who wouldn't with sweet and goofy smiles like these (on such chubby cheekers)?

"So Long Four..."

2012-01-23T13:42:00.001-07:00

The day began much as it did five years ago - before sunrise and with a sense of hurried anticipation. Except instead of being summoned into motherhood by labor pains and a giant cut to the gut, I was beckoned back from dreamland by a couple of antsy boys anxious to start the day.

It was their fifth birthday.

Dan took the day off and we took the boys to school, armed with their birthday bags filled with a "birthday gift to the classroom," birthday plates and napkins (no snack, mind you - that is not allowed), and baby pictures for their classmates to examine and discuss ("You share the same birthday?" "What's a twin?" No joke: ask them what a twin is and they still don't really comprehend anything beyond "we're brothers.")

After school and a birthday lunch at McDonald's, we took them to Castles 'n Coasters for an afternoon of arcade games, an Indy car ride and 18 holes of goofy golf. It was a lovely, low key day.

Dinner commenced at their favorite sit-down restaurant, Buca di Beppo, where the waiters enthusiastically sang "Happy Birthday" and served up a giant slice of lemon raspberry cake.

James was so excited about all the attention and singing, I heard him exclaim, "So long four, hello five!"

Hello, indeed.

My Favorite Kid-Friendly Recipe Sites

2012-01-20T13:51:00.001-07:00

I cultivated some sourdough a few months ago and took a picture - 'cause I am just that nerdy :)

I used to hate to cook. Despised it, actually. In fact, after Dan and I got engaged, my mom tried turning me into a good wife by making me "practice" cooking by making dinner every Sunday. I'm not sure what I hated worse - cooking or being made to do it.

I think it was the latter.

Slowly, over time, my interest in cooking began to percolate (this directly coincided with me loosing interest in MTV, preferring instead, to watch "Everyday Italian" and "Barefoot Contessa." Yeah. I grew up).

Now, it's tough keeping me out of the kitchen and with even more fun being had trying to introduce the boys to all sorts of fun stuff to eat. Here's my latest MissA story with a list of my favorite kid-friendly foodie sites.

Shameless Plug

2012-01-16T14:31:00.000-07:00

In addition to public relations consulting, I try to do a little freelance writing here and there. A few months ago, I was brought on as a regular contributor to the family section of a great little website called, AskMissA.com (see giant button to the right of this post). It's been a lot of fun and I have fantastic editors with free reign on what topics I'd like to cover. I'm even getting PR people contacting me to write stories about their cause or product (crazy since this is what I do for my "real" job). Want to know the crazier part?! My weekly column is part of a group of writers called, "Haute Mama." What a hoot! I certainly don't feel like a haute mama when I tap out my stories in my p.j. pants and ponytail.

Anyway, if you are interested, here's a link to my stories and a little bit about the website. Thanks for reading!

AskMissA.com is one of the largest and fastest growing online destinations for women. Miss A covers the intersection of charity and style in 21 major U.S. cities and offers informative content on a woman’s well-rounded lifestyle and interests. With a team of more than 30 editors and hundreds of writers, Miss A includes the latest and most relevant information on fashion, beauty, entertainment, food, family, city events and exclusive advice and recommendations for nearly one million unique visitors each year. Founded by Andrea Rodgers in 2008, Miss A was originally inspired by the Washington, DC socialite’s LateNightShots.com moniker “Miss A,” under which she gave advice to thousands of exclusive subscribers. Readers continue to turn to Miss A for advice and recommendations on everything from style to self-help, and are assured to get an answer that is heartfelt with a touch of Miss A’s Southern charm and sass.

Miss A tosses aside the superficial and shallow to deliver sensibility and substance with style. Through authentic, informative, and witty editorial voices of writers in-the-know across the United States, Miss A informs, inspires, and entertains an audience of more than 95,000 unique visitors monthly. Miss A continues to grow organically by building a powerful online network of women.

Adam Sandler in the Making

2012-01-11T12:36:00.001-07:00

In addition to mastering the finer skills of hockey on the ice, the boys have started working on it from the field. We got them a little hockey set for their birthdays and broke it out for the first time this morning. James was content to be goalie while Jonathan beat the heck out of the ball trying to get it into the net.

The boys have been in skating lessons for nearly eight months now and recently moved from "Hockey Tots" to a big-boy hockey class. Aside from the realization we need to start investing in real hockey gear (cha-ching), the transition has been a smooth one.

Both boys enjoy hockey and provide us with endless laughs and material to haunt them with later. James, for example, is a talker and loves to chit-chat with his pretty skating instructors during his turn in class. This has changed quite a bit however, since the big-boy class is coached by a real manly hockey player. We've never seen him so quiet. Jonathan, on the other hand, is all business and is very fast and seems at-ease on the ice, turning, skating backwards and crashing into walls (all on purpose). He isn't afraid to mix it up on the ice, which has Dan believing he's got a little Happy Gilmore in him - enthusiastic and clumsy at the same time.

"Is that goal regulation or what?!"

It's Been a While...

2012-01-03T15:25:00.002-07:00

Hello blogging lovelies,

First off, thank you, as always, for stopping by my little blog and reading my musings about my boys, rants and ramblings and let's face it - life in general. I truly appreciate you and thank you for your email messages, comments and overall blog stats.

To that end...an explanation of sorts:

I've been away from this thing for nearly a month now because life has thrown our family a curve ball. The kind of life-altering event that snatches the breath right out of your lungs and brings you to your knees in disbelief and utter sadness. The kind that tests your faith or, in my case, gives St. Jude an ear-full.

I'd rather not divulge the details, but rather, will return to blogging as a means of distraction (the boys seem to have an endless supply, thank goodness). Oh, and I have a new writing gig that sorta requires I plug my weekly articles, so please bear with me. ;)

Nothing like a little vague, non-explanation, but from my blog to yours, may the New Year bless you and your family with good health and happiness.

These photos make me smile - the boys performed in their preschool Christmas program last month. Sara, THANK YOU for taking these photos for me!

Parenting Fail (#5,987)

2011-12-06T09:50:00.001-07:00

Last week, the boys brought home a project from preschool - Christmas trees made out of construction paper for us to decorate. It was to be a family project and the trees were a blank canvas, if you will.

With the weather being so nice, the boys were outside a lot during our days when we should have been working on their project. It was due Thursday and by late afternoon on Wednesday, the trees remained as naked as they were when they came home. With hockey lessons in an hour, I told the boys they needed to get their trees done.

They were, to put it nicely, less than enthusiastic.

I got out the glue, glitter, markers and crayons and even stickers to use on their trees, but they just weren't into it. And, to be quite honest, I wasn't either.

So I told them we needed to sit at the table and finish them because their teacher expected them back by the next day.

Our lack of effort was apparent when I saw what the boys' classmates brought in - elaborately decorated, well-thought out trees.

Charlie Brown's tree looked better than what we turned in.

It's not hard to guess which two came from the slacker twins and mom. :)

Oops.

I swear, I'll be more on top of things when it comes time for science projects and reading assignments.

Hopefully.

Christmastime is Here

2011-12-01T09:49:00.001-07:00

Getting ready to decorate the tree, which is a little too big for our family room!

Some Turkey with a Side Pox - (of the Chicken Variety)

2011-11-29T13:09:00.000-07:00

This year, Thanksgiving did not disappoint in the way of surprises. Substitute underdone turkey for chicken pox (see post below) and you've got yourself Thanksgiving with our family!

Sunday morning, seemingly out of the blue, Jonathan developed a high fever and felt puny all day. After complaining that his throat hurt, I called the peds office Monday morning to make an appointment and get tested for strep. When the culture came back negative, our pediatrician began running through the gambit of possibilities. Without anything sticking, I happened to ask him to take a look at, what I thought were, a few spider bites on Jonathan's side. After lifting up Jonathan's shirt and taking a closer look, our pediatrician said, "Huh...it looks to me like he might have chicken pox!" He went over his chart to ensure he had in fact, been vaccinated as a baby, but confirmed he had not had the chicken pox booster at his four year well check. The four year well check, for anyone unfamiliar, is notoriously one of the more horrendous of the well checks because kiddos get a slew of shots at the same time. At the boys' well check earlier this year, our pediatrician recommended breaking up the shots, giving half at that appointment and the rest at their five year well check. Naturally, we agreed.

So, as our pediatrician sat staring at Jonathan's chart on his laptop, he sighed and said, "I guess I picked the wrong ones." Personally, given the situation, I'd much rather have my son come down with a light case of chicken pox then suffer from polio.

Being that we were highly contagious, we skee-daddled out of the office and back home where we remained holed up for nearly a week. Jonathan only got a dozen or so pox, but his fever and cough made him so uncomfortable. Fortunately, his fever came back down to normal on Saturday and his pox have all but disappeared returning our little boy back to his happy, rambunctious self.

The Year of the Questionable Thanksgiving

2011-11-19T13:22:00.001-07:00

On the day when most Americans look forward to overindulging on juicy turkey, succulent stuffing and scrumptious pie, my family and I did our best to avoid it.

Growing up, Thanksgiving was spent at my grandparents’ house which was about as fun as a root canal. My grandmother was many things, but a good cook was not one of them. Not only was her cooking poor, it was compounded by the fact she hated it. And she let us know it, too. She bitched while she basted, swore while she stirred and fought with my Pop-Pop over the frozen peas. She refused all help and despite her hatred of all things food, she insisted on hosting the mother of all food holidays.

Each year, we would sit around the table spooning mashed potatoes with speed bumps in them onto our plates while heaping steaming piles of green bean casserole that looked like it would be more aptly suited for swamp than at the dinner table. Not wanting to hurt my grandmother’s feelings, we would compliment her on the meal with exaggerated nods and enthusiastic chewing. Runny cranberry sauce and chunky white gravy was as much of a tradition for us as the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

As the years went on, the food got worse until one year it nearly killed us. Literally.

Grouchy from tending to a turkey that refused to cook, my grandmother threw her hands in the air and with an “Oh, what the hell!” yanked a very pale turkey out of the oven, slid it onto a serving platter and heaved it onto the table in front of us. My sister and I stared at the bird. We didn’t dare comment on the obvious, instead, resorting to telepathic stares exclaiming, “This turkey is white. White! There’s no way this thing’s not raw inside.”

As everyone gathered at the table, I watched pale, pink blood pool underneath the turkey as it rested in front of us, as if daring us to tempt fate. Instead of stating the obvious, we silently scooped fixings onto our plates, diverting our eyes from the glare of the turkey sitting before us.

At last, my father spoke. “Some turkey, huh?” he said while taking a bite off the leg. “Hmm, hmm,” we all nodded, taking his cue of, you’d-better-be-polite-and-eat-it-or-else.

I looked down at my plate and took a deep breath before slicing a piece of turkey the size of my pinky nail. I quickly buried it in a forkful of lukewarm sauerkraut and took a bite, thankful the vinegar masked the flavor of the underdone turkey. I hoped it would also coat my intestines from the bacteria that were sure to be lurking in a bird the Food and Drug Administration would have a heyday over.

The rest of the meal proceeded pleasantly as each of us disguised our turkey with potato rolls or stuffing. Soon, the sun began to dip behind the hills and the air outside turned crisp. As my family and I loaded into the mini-van for the hour long drive home, I watched my grandfather scurry into the house and return with a bulging plastic grocery bag.

“These are for the ride home. You know, in case you need ‘em,” he said gruffly.

And then he winked.

Inside the bag were two empty ice cream cartons – handy containers we could use in case the undercooked bird decided to return for an encore.

Thankfully, none of us needed them.

Halloween with Captain America and Wolverine

2011-11-08T15:48:00.001-07:00

Last week, America's First Avenger teamed up with one of the leaders of the X-Men. The result? A whole lot of candy!

Fun at the Farm

2011-10-31T10:14:00.000-07:00

If you live in Arizona and haven't been to Freeman Farms yet, you should go. Located in Chino Valley, it's a cool respite from the heat we're still experiencing in October. Not to mention the family-friendly, small town atmosphere I find myself craving these days.

Fly Me to the Moon

2011-10-27T10:06:00.000-07:00

Last week, while I was scrubbing maple syrup off plates from breakfast, I noticed the house was quiet. Like, what-are-the-boys-getting-into-quiet. I peeked in the playroom and found them busy building gadgets and structures with their Legos. I tip-toed back to the kitchen, not wanting to disturb their project building. Moments later, James emerged and proudly displayed his work on the kitchen table.

"Mommy! I built a rocket for me and a rocket for you so we can fly to the moon together."

Aunt Amy

2011-10-17T14:11:00.000-07:00

No description necessary. She's simply perfect.

Angry Birds

2011-10-10T13:49:00.000-07:00

My phone's been hijacked by a couple of four year olds. I blame their father for getting them hooked on Angry Birds!

Finally! A Cool Day in the Desert!

2011-10-06T14:12:00.002-07:00

We've enjoyed two days of on-and-off spits of rain, a cool breeze and big, puffy clouds passing over the mountains. After umpteen days in a row of 100+ degree heat and a big, fat tease of a monsoon season, yesterday we opened the doors, unlatched the windows and spent all day outside...all without burning the soles of our feet!

On Answering Some Tough Questions

2011-10-05T14:36:00.000-07:00

Saturday around noon we were on our way home from the boys' skating lesson when we witnessed a horrible traffic accident. Four cars ahead of us was a Jeep driving erratically. Suddenly, it veered right and flipped, causing a commotion of dust and debris.

The boys were in the backseat, of course and didn't see it happen, but our gasps snapped them to attention. Dan pulled the car over and I fumbled with the phone to call 911. After I finished speaking with dispatch, Dan hopped out of the car and walked across the street to see if he could help.

Questions began firing from my backseat passengers.

"Mommy, what happened?"
"Who were you talking to on the phone?"
"Why are we at the gas station and Dada's not getting gas?"
"Is the ambulance going to come?"
"Why is that Jeep upside down?"

I did my best to truthfully explain what happened, balancing reality with optimism as the fire department arrived. The accident scene was beyond our view (thankfully) so we couldn't really see what was going on. The boys weren't scared, but were concerned for the "people in the Jeep." They also said they were glad a tanker wasn't involved in the accident because it would have
"blown every thing up."

We've been teaching them about 911 at home and I talked to them about how it applies in this situation, explaining why I called and how dozens of others did as well. I also pointed out how wonderful it was that so many people stopped to help, just as their Daddy did.

Dan returned to the car a few minutes later. The look on his face confirmed my fears. The driver was dead. Apparently, on off-duty police officer had been following the woman driving the Jeep. As soon as she crashed, he ran over to her and immediately began chest compressions while calling in the accident. Fortunately, no one else was hurt.

Dan and I were quiet on the way home while the boys talked excitedly about all of the emergency vehicles they saw and what purpose they would be serving in an accident. I was glad they didn't ask anything more about the driver and counted our blessings were weren't in the car next to the Jeep.

La Bamba is NOT a Lullaby

2011-09-30T13:23:00.001-07:00

I woke up before the sun on a cold morning in January to find our house in complete disarray. My head hurt like a hangover but the bottles next to the bed were definitely not of the adult variety.

I rubbed my eyes and got out of bed, but not before realizing the pain coursing through my abdomen was not the remnants of a good time and instead the uncomfortable reminder of a c-section. I peeked into the crib across the bedroom to find my newborn son swaddled and snoozing peacefully. I walked into the family room where I could hear his twin cooing in the living room, entertaining his daddy.

“Some night, huh?” I muttered to my husband.

“Yeah…that sucked,” he said definitively. “How are we going to survive this?”

This being babyhood.

Parenthood.

Life with twins.

I shook my head. I had no idea.

It’s remarkable how quickly our little five pound wonders turned our lives completely upside down. A mere 16 hours earlier, my husband and I carried our newborn boys across the threshold into clean, comfortable home. A home my husband and in laws spent hours scrubbing, sanitizing, dusting and vacuuming just days before, anticipating the boys’ arrival.

Now, our house - our sanctuary - displayed our disheveled state perfectly. It looked like a scene from the reality show, COPS – like one of those houses the police bust into to break up a domestic violence dispute or search for stolen ID’s. Those houses always seem to be messy and disheveled, a prerequisite, I imagined, for appearing on the reality show. Replace stolen property with baby products and we could have been starring in season 178 of COPS.

Evidence of our disastrous night littered our home. Half-empty, ready-made bottles of formula lay strewn across our kitchen counter, bedroom nightstands and dresser. In the corner, I saw the cords to my breast pump lying tangled on the floor. I vaguely recalled fumbling with them in the middle of the night (Did I pump? Had my milk come in?) Who knows…my brain was mush. The stack of clean diapers next to the crib now looked like they’d been ravaged and tightly bound bundles of (presumably) dirty diapers filled the garbage. I eventually found our dog snoozing under a mess of sleepers and baby blankets.

Suffice it to say, our first night home with our twins the evening before went downhill fast. After a quick dinner of take out, my husband and I got our newborns ready for bed, dressing them in fresh sleepers. All was calm. I took a shower and after two weeks of hospital bedrest, this one felt so good. For a few blissful minutes, I let the calming feeling of home wash over me. After taking a last peek at the boys, I eased myself into bed and nearly cried with joy. For the first time in months, I was able to lie on my back AND breathe at the same time. A miracle! My husband, who was also exhausted, and I exchanged a quick kiss and we settled into sleep.

Or so we thought.

Moments later, one of the boys started crying, which of course, woke the other one. Their chorus of crying pierced the darkness. Sheets were pulled back, lights were flipped on and we each grabbed a crying baby, hoping the crying would subside.

It didn’t.

What transpired was a pathetic, albeit, hearty effort to meet their needs, failing miserably. We tried feeding and burping them, changing them, cuddling them and walking around the house with them. And, if my memory serves me correctly, I swore I heard my husband hum an off-key version of Dream On by Aerosmith. Nothing worked.

Hours later and with our boys still awake and fussy, my husband flipped on the television and said, “We might as well accept the fact we aren’t sleeping tonight. I’ll find something to watch on T.V.”

I wanted to burst into tears. I was so exhausted, I could hardly see straight and now we’d be up all night. I felt the cold hand of reality tap me on the shoulder and laugh in my face.

As to be expected, our choice in television programming at 1:00 a.m. consisted of little more than infomercials and old movies. We settled on La Bamba, hoping perhaps the soulful, Latin music would coax our twins to sleep. Of course it didn’t and the mere fact it didn’t, irritated me to no end. I knew I was hitting my limit when I began to envy Richie Valens.

The rest of the night crawled by, but sometime between 4 and 5, the boys must have quieted because at 6:00, I woke up with a start, felt that horrible headache and surveyed the damage of the night before. It wasn’t pretty, but it was over. Despite the collateral damage, we fought our way through our first night as parents.

Surviving this would take teamwork, patience and acceptance that our house would likely remain COPS-worthy for a number of years. And I was ok with that, as long as I didn’t have to see Lou Diamond Phillips shaking his hiney to that God-awful tune again.

Grocery Lists

2011-09-22T05:00:00.002-07:00

As most moms of twins, I delight in the differences between my boys as much as marvel at their uncanny similarities. Evidence of their differences were displayed recently when they made "grocery lists" by cutting out the ads in the newspaper.

Jonathan's illustrates his free spirit approach to creativity.

James' list, on the other hand, is a tangible example of his imagination and attention to detail.

"James and Teddy's Grocery List"

A Day with the Ladies

2011-09-12T10:39:00.000-07:00

Jonathan and James were about two months old when I made plans to take them out on an outing. A real outing. Not Target, not to the grocery store and certainly not the drive thru at Starbucks – an outing that required I get out of my t-shirt and yoga pants. This was no small feat. I was an exhausted new mother of twins and in the middle of desperately trying to establish some sort of schedule that might reward me with a little more than the two hours of sleep I was banking a night. It wasn’t going well. In fact, I felt like a judge attempting to preside over an out of control courtroom while my little defendants sat smugly in their bouncy chairs, plotting their next outburst.

In other words, a trip that took us more than 20 minutes away from my house, my headquarters, was out of the question.

So, when my 94 year old grandmother called me up on a Tuesday afternoon to invite the boys and me to her house for lunch that weekend, I nearly declined. She lived a good 50 minutes away, the furthest I had been away from home with my newborns, and this would throw us off schedule. As it was, the boys ate every three hours and it took me more than two hours to get them both changed, fed, burped, changed again and rocked to sleep.

But I decided to give it a shot. After all, Nana was one of the most important people in my life and well worth the extra effort. Besides, I missed hanging out with her every Saturday as we had done for years.

“Okay, Nana, pencil us in on your calendar,” I told her. “But don’t use pen. The boys are really finicky and if things go haywire in the morning, we may not be able to come.”

“I am so excited,” Nana gushed. “I can’t wait to tell all of my friends!”

“Let’s keep this low key though, alright?” I requested.

As I hung up the phone, I pictured her pulling out her calendar and writing, “Missy and the boys for lunch” in her Saturday square. In pen. Then, I imagined her calling her friends or “cronies” as she called them, to share the news.

I was officially committed.

That Saturday, yawning from my night of feeding rotations and a particularly time consuming diaper blow out, I got the boys ready for our trek. I packed my diaper bag for every possible scenario, including a 15 car pileup on I-17. I dressed the boys up in my favorite matching outfits and carefully combed their wispy hair. I couldn’t help but notice how irresistible they looked in their light green and orange striped onesies with the little whimsical peach crab printed on the front proclaiming, “Don’t Feel Crabby!”

An hour later, when I pulled into Nana’s senior apartment complex, I immediately spotted her waiting for us outside. She was wearing her signature black and white printed blouse and white pants, her white hair gleaming in the sun.

I parked the car and she scurried over, practically tripping over her walker. Nana kissed the boys while I loaded their car seats in the tandem stroller. We were only a few feet inside the lobby of the building when I heard the chime of the elevator doors open and her friends step out.

I looked at Nana and she sheepishly said, “I know, I know…they were just as excited as I was to see the boys.”

I couldn’t help but laugh and hug them; their familiar faces warmed my heart.

“Oooh, this must be Jonathan,” Edythe boomed in her thick Brooklyn accent. “He’s the screamah.”

Pulling the stroller hood back for a better view, Bonnie turned to the others and said, “And this is sweet baby James. He’s got digestion issues you know.”

I marveled about how these women knew details about the boys and could tell them apart. I had family members who couldn’t even do that.

Crammed into the elevator on our way to Nana’s apartment, I noticed the women looking exceptionally nice, like church-nice. When I told them how lovely they all looked, Sally said, “Well, it isn’t every day we get to visit with babies.”

Inside Nana’s apartment, the ladies settled onto the couch, taking turns holding the boys while I warmed their bottles on the stove in the kitchen. When I was finished, I offered the bottles to Nana and Sally and they beamed while they fed the boys their lunch. I watched them, fascinated with how natural the ladies seemed with the boys – the way they held their bottles and sat them up in between gulps. It was as if they had been caring for babies all their lives.

There was something so reassuring about these women – their calm, natural demeanor that was comforting to a neurotic, inexperienced mother like me. It was then I decided to forgo our schedule, if for just that day. All I wanted to do was soak up that maternal goodness radiating through the room.

I am so grateful for this experience, not only because of the enjoyment I got out of the visit, but because it was the last time my boys got to hang out with their great-grandmother. I think of her so often, wondering if she's watching us from above. I'm sure she is, as I can practically hear her laugh at the crazy antics of my favorite boys.

It's That Time of Year...

2011-08-26T21:20:00.000-07:00

...football season! Could this be the year Notre Dame? We're pullin' for the Fighting Irish over here in boyland. A few oldies, but goodies to ring in the new season. :)

First Day of Preschool

2011-08-16T14:42:00.000-07:00

Today was the boys' first day of preschool and they did GREAT! We arrived on campus to find members of the school's leadership team holding the big doors to the lobby open, greeting new students. We turned down the hallway of the boys classroom when James yelled, "Mommy, I think I like preschool!"

Yay!

I kept waiting for a hint of anxiety out of the boys and found none...whew. I spoke with one of their teachers and mentioned they might have a tough time transitioning and she gently suggested they would be fine and would probably handle the transition better if I said goodbye when they were on the playground. I wasn't ready for that at all! I anticipated staying all day today, but seeing how much fun they were having, I knew she was right. A few minutes into their playtime, I gave them each a big kiss and a quick hug and ducked into the classroom and out the door. I'm not sure my sunglasses hid the fat, wet tears streaming down my face, but I made it to the car before bursting into tears. After about 15 minutes, when the teachers didn't call to say they boys were miserable and needed to be picked up, I drove home and settled into work.

I practically sped back to the school at the end of their day to pick them up as I was anxious to see how it went. I could not have asked for happier, more excited kiddos, which made my eyes swell with tears again! I was so proud of my little guys!

They talked excitedly about their day in the car on our way to McDonald's to meet Daddy for a celebratory lunch. I heard about the "crafites" they got to make, the toys they played with and how many teachers they had. James was even assigned a job today - holding the flag for the class during the Pledge of Allegiance. He was so proud!

Scenes of Summer

2011-08-11T13:04:00.000-07:00

Indoor science projects.

Mango smoothies from Starbucks makes my kid do this.

Swimming

Ice skating. Nothing more refreshing then standing next to a big 'ol slab of ice for 30 minutes in the middle of summer.

Harkins summer movies.

Gettin' our bowl on.

Shooting rockets.

Library reading programs.

Turning our doors into art galleries.

Nature walks in Flagstaff.

Jesus Sounds Like...

2011-08-09T14:45:00.001-07:00

This morning, we attended the boys' preschool orientation. The preschool is connected to a large Christian church so before visiting their classroom and meeting their teacher, students were asked to gather in the church beforehand for a welcome, prayer and announcements. And a round of hearty Christian-rock music.

This type of jovial music is quite different than what they typically hear during a Catholic mass, and, perhaps opened them up to some creative interpretation. James turned to me and loudly remarked, "Mommy! They're singing about Cheez-Its!"

At Four and a Half

2011-08-01T21:11:00.000-07:00

Boys,
You are the ripe old age of four and a half and since I have yet to crack open those baby books, I thought I would write about your unique characteristics so that one day, you would know I was paying attention, despite my complete disregard for traditional record keeping. :)

Jonathan

Most likely to: pass on sugary treats for veggies.

Favorite television shows: Transformers, The Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heros', GI Joe (the 80's cartoon version), Richard Scarry's Busytown, Dinosaur Train

Physical attribute that closely resembles Mommy: your lips

Physical attribute that closely resembles Daddy: everything else.

Can't live without: Dada

Career choice: Superhero

Can't sleep without: Lamby, Tiny Turtle and "Abby to Gabby," your pink rabbit

The last time you made me laugh: 20 minutes ago. You yelled, "MOMMY! I just went behind the couch and tooted!"

Pizza preference: olive.

Bookshelf: anything about dinosaurs, trucks

Palate Pleaser: Blue cheese stuffed olives.

Quotables: "I like when the sun settles."

Your biggest challenge: holding still

By the numbers: 7. You said this is your favorite because it looks like a water slide.

I can't live without: your puckery kisses

What I admire about you today: Your perfect combination of boy bravado and sensitivity.

Partner in Crime: your bro.

James

Favorite television shows: Thomas and Friends, Sid the Science Kid, Cat in the Hat, Transformers

By the numbers: 8. Because it's one more than Jonathan.

Physical attribute that closely resembles Mommy: your eyes

Physical attribute that closely resembles Daddy: that overall "look" Pop-Pop, Opa and Daddy all share. I can't explain it but know it when it see it. :)

Breakfast of champions: Boston Cream donut from Dunkin'

Career choice: garbage truck driver

Bookshelf: anything about trucks, insects.

Quotables: "I can do it myself, I just need the constructions." (instructions).

I can't live without: your infectious, boisterous giggle

Stuffed animals friends currently residing on your bed: Teddy, Buzzer Bee and Seaweed (a.k.a The Very Hungry Caterpillar).

Obsessed with: cab-over-engine garbage trucks; trains

Your biggest challenge: trying new things

Last time you made me laugh: Last night when I accidentally bucked you off of my back while giving you a ride. You collapsed in giggles.

What I admire about you today: your curiosity about how things work.

Partner in crime: your bro.

It's Almost Here

2011-07-28T14:31:00.000-07:00

...preschool. Feelings of excitement, nervousness and separation anxiety are running high in our house and that's just from me! The boys will be starting preschool in the next few weeks and will be attending part time, two days a week.

Official "Welcome Letters" just arrived in my inbox and I am relieved to see the boys are, in fact, in the same classroom as I requested (more on that later). I'm happy with the school we chose and have discovered a few of our other friends will be attending as well, which should make the transition a bit easier (read: for me).

The boys? Well, they are excited, but I fully expect a little apprehension as the day approaches. For now, we are focusing on the fun and learning they'll enjoy at school as well as the new friends they'll make.

We'll also need to get shopping, too, because apparently, we have a laundry list of school supplies we are being asked to provide, which I guess means double-everything on the list. It's a good thing I LOVE shopping for school supplies. Target, here we come!

Spelunking

2011-07-18T16:05:00.000-07:00

We took the boys to Lava River Cave over the weekend for a little outdoor adventure. The cave, tucked away in the depths of the Coconino National Forest, was a little more "adventurous" than we expected and thought our four year olds might have a difficult time with the steep, slippery rocks so we opted out of the full mile-long hike. Nevertheless, the boys had fun hiking down about 20 feet into the cave and experiencing the drastic temperature change and cool rock formations.

We promised them more spelunking will be in their future!

Hazardous Workplace

2011-07-12T14:45:00.000-07:00

I've been remiss in my blogging "duties" over the past several weeks or so, which could mean I've been too busy being an A+ mom, giving my undivided, totally devoted attention to my guys.

Not so.

I've been busy with work, which can be challenging when you're under heavy fire from a four year old.

I've GOT to set up my office one of these days.

Captain America Wishes You a Happy 4th

2011-07-01T13:59:00.000-07:00

Scenes of Boyhood: No Girls Allowed

2011-06-27T09:35:00.000-07:00

Last week, I stumbled upon a gathering of GI Joe vehicles congregated tightly on the floor of our living room. "Don't mess with those Mommy," my little one instructed. "I won't," I assured him. "What's going on?"

"It's called, a "board," Mommy," Jonathan informed me.

"A bored?" I asked. "What's a bored?"

"A board," he emphasized. "They're talking. And it's a secret."

"Ahh! A board meeting!" I said, chuckling.

"Yes, and no girls allowed!"

Capsized! A Father's Day Adventure

2011-06-20T12:44:00.002-07:00

Father's Day began early and ended late. Upon rising with the sun, the boys were excited to give Daddy his presents, which, to my surprise, they kept a total secret (first time ever)! Their personal gifts to him were books they had "written" about all of the reasons they loved their daddy. They dictated their stories to me while I typed it up and printed it out and they illustrated the pages. James' book was titled, What Dada Likes to Do. My favorite page was, "Before bed, Dada gives me a roll (piggyback). I like them bumpy and when he goes over buses and stuff." Jonathan named his book, Playing with Dada and drew Dan lifting an enormous set of barbels over his head.

Jonathan draws very light, so this is hard to see!

Oma and Opa arrived at our house a little after 7 a.m. After packing up the car and a quick stop for breakfast at Dunkin Donuts, we headed north to Prescott for a relaxing day at Lynx Lake.

The lake was beautiful, with tiny waves rippling in the cool breeze - a perfect day to rent a boat. We were informed it was too windy for the paddle boats, so Dan rented a two person-only canoe. Jonathan volunteered for the first ride and after a brief lesson and tug on Jonathan's life vest, my little sailors were out on the water.

Opa followed them, taking photos from a gigantic rock perched above the shoreline.

James, Oma and I lagged behind, checking out the gigantic red fireflies, James' favorite insect. After a while I realized Dan and Jonathan had been out on the water for quite a while. It would be James' turn, so we decided to head over to the cove where Dan and Jonathan appeared to be hanging out.

Little did I know, they weren't "hanging out" at all. The wind had picked up considerably, making the canoe impossible to turn around. Dan was fighting the wind, struggling to stay afloat.

All of a sudden I heard him yell, immediately followed by a panicked, "CHRIS!" coming from my father-in-law, alerting my mother in law. Something happened. Not thinking (or seeing) rationally, I began running toward the water, my eyes only registering my husband completely in the water, but Jonathan's head safely above the water. I could hear Jonathan's voice eek out a scared, "Dada!" I sprinted down the rocky shoreline and dove into the water. Well, "dove into the water" sounds a lot more Baywatch than what it really was - a fully clothed mom belly flopping into the water whilst smashing her shins against the rocks.

The cold water and rush of adrenaline made me suck in a ton of air while I swam to my capsized sailors. Thinking Jonathan would be panicking, I gasped out, "It's ok, Ja-Ja! Everything's ok!" When I got closer, I realized Jonathan wasn't in the water at all! It's true, the canoe tipped over, spilling my husband overboard, but his quick thinking and strength put Jonathan immediately back in a now upright canoe, out of harm's way. Jonathan was scared, but completely calm. And so was Dan.

We treaded water for a minute and laughed about my ridiculous, knee-jerk reaction. In fact, despite being cold and a bit shell-shocked Jonathan even managed to crack a smile about silly Mommy jumping in the water.

Seconds later, the lake's rescue boat raced over and immediately got Jonathan out of the canoe and into the boat. He would hear nothing of us helping bring the canoe to shore, only wanting to make sure our little guy was alright. I rode with Jonathan back to the dock while Dan hiked back with the rest of our crew. On our ride back, Mr. Rescue Man told us he saw the whole thing happen and couldn't believe how quickly Dan reacted and did the right thing in putting Jonathan back in the canoe (love that man, such a great daddy)! He also said they had decided to pull all of the other canoes in for the day since it was just too windy for anyone to safely be out of the water. I guess our capsized kid ruined all the fun!

The three of us changed clothes and since it was still early in the day, we decided to hang out at the lake a little longer (on land) before heading into downtown Prescott for a little Father's Day pub 'n grub at Prescott Brewing Company.

Overall, it was a fun day and one we'll always remember. I still can't believe how calm and level headed my little four year old was. I think he knew he was in good hands with his Dada, which is of course evident in how he depicted his beloved Daddy in his book.

Immortal Mommy

2011-06-17T14:05:00.002-07:00

This morning, as I was helping the boys brush their teeth, we had a conversation that took a worrisome turn for one of my little guys and I'm pretty sure I didn't handle it right. In fact, Dan confirmed my hunch when I told him how the conversation went with, "You said what?!" *Sigh* It was not one of my golden parenting moments.

Here's how it went down:

James was brushing his own teeth and after I made a big deal about how great he was doing, I asked Jonathan if he wanted to do the same. He didn't (of course).

Jonathan: "Mommy, I want you to always brush my teeth."

Me: "Always?"

Jonathan: "Yes. Well, until I'm 27."

Me: (laughing): "When you're 27, you're going to want me to come to your house twice a day and brush your teeth for you?!"

Jonathan: "No, Mommy!" I'll still be living here!"

Me: "Awww, I'd love that!"

Not one to miss an opportunity for attention (or to be bested), James piped in.

James: "Mommy, I want you to brush my teeth until I'm 97!"

Me: "James! I won't even be around when you're 97!"

At this point, James' face fell and I wished I hadn't said that to my uber-sensitive boy who, just last week, burst into tears when we read, Llama, Llama Misses Mama. The same kid who sympathizes with every character in nearly every movie and ends up crying and in my lap. The kid who is exactly like me.

Crap.

James: "Where will you be when I'm 97?"

Me: "Umm, you know...heaven, or something. It's a loooooong time from now so you don't need to worry about it, ok?"

Jonathan: "Mommy, does it take a long time to get to heaven?"

Me (totally backpedaling): "Listen you guys, you don't need to worry about it at all! I'm going to be around for a really long time. Besides, do you even know how high 97 really is?

We counted to 97 and the boys laughed about how long it took to get there but James wasn't convinced.

James (voice shaking and tears welling up in his little green eyes): "Mommy, I don't want you to go without me."

I gave him a gigantic hug and squeezed him tight. I apologized for having upset him and tried to brush the whole conversation under the rug.

Me: "You know what? I won't. I'll be right here. And I'll brush your 97 year old teeth for you. Will you still be living here, too?"

James: "Nah, you'll have to drive to my house."

Eight is Great: An Open Letter to J & J

2011-06-14T11:00:00.000-07:00

My Dearest Boys,
Eight years ago, on a sweltering summer day in Phoenix, two lives became one, laying the foundation for what you would someday become. Your daddy was quite handsome that day and your mommy was, well, sweaty. Who gets married in the summer in Phoenix? Oh that's right...nearly every married couple in our family. It's how we roll.

True to form, we experienced several mishaps that day - all things that make us laugh now as much as we did then. I know you don't care much about the details of this union now, but someday you might.

Here are eight facts about your parents' wedding:
1. Even though the ceremony wasn't until 1:30, I was convinced your dad would sleep in too long and miss it.

2. Despite the pomp and circumstance of a traditional Catholic wedding mass, Nana's favorite part of our wedding was watching the chicken dance at the reception.

3. I accidentally flashed dear, sweet Pop-Pop. In church. Stone sober. I blame your father.

4. Your Uncle Adam brought down the house with a hilarious toast about your dad nearly burning down the desert. Don't get any ideas.

5. Your Aunt Amy brought down the house again with a toast bagging on your grandparents. I'm surprised she wasn't grounded.

6. Your dad picked the song for our wedding dance - Come Away with Me by Nora Jones. To this day, that is still the only song you two will allow me to sing in the car.

7. Your dad bought a beautiful, antique toasting goblet in Germany for our first toast. I didn't work it right and poured the champagne right down my gown.

8. We were blessed to be surrounded by our closest friends and family who were gracious enough to celebrate with us.

So there you have it, boys. He's pretty terrific, your dad. It makes having to stuff my ears with ear plugs each night to combat his snoring totally worth it.

And, if you can believe it, I think our love has only grown stronger over time, even with you two in the mix! (Newborn twins who rarely sleep can test a marriage...I'm just sayin')! We've come a long way since we met while working at the good 'ol police department and I'm looking forward to seeing where the next eight years take us.

Cuteness

2011-06-05T21:49:00.002-07:00

First Kiss

2011-06-01T21:33:00.000-07:00

My kid is four and got his first kiss tonight. From a girl. Right smack on the lips! And for those of you who know my kids, you will be surprised to learn it wasn't James (a.k.a Mr. Lady Killer) who was smooched. It was my Ja-Ja Bear and boy was he embarrassed!

Our friend and future preschool classmate, Little Miss E, gave Jonathan a hug during their swim lesson tonight. I saw her say something to him in class and watched him shift his eyes away from her the way he does when he's uncomfortable. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and squeezed him tight and he reciprocated with an obligatory half-hug back. Then, she pulled away, cupped his cheeks in her hands and planted a big fat one on his lips! Dan and I couldn't believe it and Miss E's mom and I shared a squeal and laugh. It was so cute.

I had to wait until 8th grade for my first kiss but I can see why Jonathan got his so early. Who can resist those puckery lips?! I know I can't!

Twin Talk: Whooshing Boogies

2011-05-24T10:10:00.001-07:00

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

2011-05-17T13:00:00.002-07:00

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'

2011-05-15T21:12:00.000-07:00

Twin Talk: Getting in "There"

2011-05-13T13:47:00.000-07:00

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

2011-05-09T07:03:00.001-07:00

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

2011-05-02T21:01:00.000-07:00

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.

Happy Easter!

2011-04-22T13:56:00.000-07:00

There was a time, not all that long ago, my boys could easily fit into small places. These days, while they're busy climbing, running and jumping out of things, I like to remember when they couldn't get around as much...which worked out well for their parents who have a weird sense of humor.

Happy Easter!

Home

2011-04-15T06:38:00.003-07:00

It's spring and with this season comes renewal, growth and possibilties. We bought a house and moved in a few weeks ago. And while I still have about 25 boxes to unpack, the yard needs a lot of love and repair work and painting has kept us occupied, we're home.

It feels good.

Thunder in the Desert

2011-04-11T15:08:00.001-07:00

Boy bliss.

Meet our country's future jet fighter pilots. Or one of them at least. We took the boys to "Thunder in the Desert" at Luke Air Force Base. They LOVED it. And so did I, although I'm afraid Jonathan loved it a little too much. :)

They really liked the paratroopers and Jonathan couldn't get over the fact they were allowed to jump out of airplanes (their moms must not have known, you see). When the Army's Golden Knights landed, James actually went up to one of the jumpers and gave him a high five!

Jonathan, operating the "giant shooter" out of the helicopter.

Seriously, is there anything better than watching the Thunderbirds?!

One in Four

2011-04-03T21:15:00.000-07:00

I regret I didn’t start blogging about my boys until they were two. That means I’ve missed journaling my pregnancy and first two years of their little lives. And since the goal of this blog is to chronicle my twins’ lives (and because I suck at keeping a scrapbook), I thought I’d better back the truck up a bit and tell a few stories here and there before my memory fails me…as it often does!

I’ll start at the beginning of their little lives…the pregnancy test. You know those ads on TV that say something like, “1 in 4 women misread their pregnancy test?” The ones we all think, “What idiot can’t read a pregnancy test?” Meet 1 in 4.

Months before I got pregnant, I kept up a regiment of “preparing” my womb for a new little resident. I gave up drinking alcohol and caffeine, stopped eating tuna, ate healthy and exercised regularly. I even stopped dying my hair blonde every eight weeks opting, instead, for a dark brown hue for my long locks just in case the dye might impact a baby in some way. Dan even got in on the action, which he loved, by the way. Just ask him how much he liked my vitamin-packed asparagus soup!

So, with so much anticipation and careful thought being paid to my physical health, its ironic my mental capacity failed me so terribly.

I took my first test on the first day the pink box said it could accurately detect the pregnancy hormone…days before my missed period. I took it and immediately saw one solid pink line and a very faint line right underneath it. The second positive line was so faint I thought it was the indicator simply showing through the screen. Disappointed, I cast it aside and hoped for better results the next month.

About a week later, while getting ready for work, I heard on the news a wildfire had broken out near Sedona. Because of my job with the Red Cross, it was likely would need to go up for a few days to handle our PR and communications efforts.

Strapping on my shoes, I called my husband at work to let him know. Knowing I would be in the thick of the disaster, inhaling smoke from the wildfire, he said, “Are you sure you aren’t pregnant? Like, really sure? Why don’t you take another test…just in case?”

For some reason, I was excited to take the test again and my hopes began to rise. I put the phone down on the kitchen counter and hurried to take the test. Before the results appeared, I grabbed the phone again, breathless…waiting. Dan haphazardly continued working while we waited. Heart pounding, I tiptoed back into the bathroom and peaked at the results. TWO lines! Two very distinct lines! I shrieked and shouted, “I’m pregnant! Oh my gosh, I’m really pregnant!” Dan laughed and we shared a fun moment of awe together.

It wasn’t exactly the way I’d pictured telling my husband I was carrying his child, but special nonetheless. Besides, it wouldn’t be the last time my pregnancy would produce unexpected results.

Conehead

2011-03-31T14:31:00.000-07:00

Our pup, Hogan, had surgery on Monday to correct his luxating patella. He's been in quite a bit of pain and unable to sleep much at night, but getting a lot of love. Today, he got is bandage off and will be sporting this e-collar for the next two weeks. :(

Disneyland and the "Weee" Factor

2011-03-11T06:00:00.009-07:00

It was during our third ride in a row on Thunder Mountain Railroad when it occurred to me we had a couple of toddler teenagers on our hands. Maybe it was the sight of my four year old throwing his arms up in the air and squealing, “WEEEEEE!” during the big turns that did it. Or the fact my other four year old sitting next to me was yelling, “Faster, faster!” Whatever it was, I couldn’t help but marvel at the completely different sort of adventure Disneyland turned out to be.

In January, Dan and I surprised the boys with the trip to Disneyland for their fourth birthday. We told them about the trip on their actual birthday and that we’d be leaving the next day for “Mickey’s house,” as they call it. They were excited to be going on a vacation, but didn’t really get how special Mickey’s house was going to be. In fact, when we hit the wind farms outside of LA, James wanted to get out and check them out and even offered to forgo his special trip just to look at the “big blades.” “Trust us, buddy,” we told him, “You’re going to want to get to Disneyland as fast as possible. You aren’t going to believe the cool rides.”

We made it to the hotel in record time and went straight to the park. The boys really got a kick out of riding on the monorail, especially since we got to sit in the last car.

Taking the monorail into the park!

Remembering what the guide book recommended about easing young children into Disneyland, we decided to start with the tame rides and see if we could work our way up from there. After all, precedence had been set. I was the boys’ age when my parents took me to Disneyland. After just one ride on Pirates of the Caribbean, I was scared of everything except Casey Junior Railroad and wouldn't ride anything else. I don’t know how my parents survived the monotony. My husband, also four on his first trip, was scared of It’s a Small World. I’m not joking. You can understand our hesitancy in bringing on too much Disney too soon, given our family history.

So, once inside the Magic Kingdom, we headed over to the Finding Nemo Submarine Voyage, which they enjoyed. Then, it was off to It’s a Small World, which the boys seemed only mildly entertained (how my dear husband was scared of that ride, I’ll never know). We then rode Dumbo, King Arthur’s Carrousel and Peter Pan’s Flight.

“I think they’re bored,” I whispered to Dan after the ride.

“Are you guys having fun?” Dan asked them enthusiastically.

“Yeah!”

“What’s been your favorite ride so far?” I asked them.

“That one!” Jonathan said without hesitation pointing to the giant snow-capped mountain.

“The Matterhorn?! We haven’t even been on that one yet. James, how about you?”

“I like the flume ride!”

“You like Splash Mountain?! We haven’t been on that, either.”

Dan and I looked at each other. It was time to up the ante or our kids were going to lose interest in the Happiest Place on Earth.

So, we proceeded (with caution) to Pirates, which they loved, and then down Splash Mountain which they loved even more. Their squeals of excitement reverberated off the walls. We were having a blast!

It was off to the Matterhorn. The snow monster scared them a bit, but with a little reassurance from Daddy, the boys were good to go and loved the herky-jerky action of the ride.

At around 6:30, we decided to hit one more ride before getting some dinner and heading back to the hotel. The wait at Thunder Mountain looked a little long, so we dared to try Space Mountain. The boys’ newfound love for space had them jittery with excitement. After a 15 minute wait, we were on the ride, ready for adventure. We took off into space with James sitting next to Dan and Jonathan sitting next to me. I had forgotten how fast the ride was, which I love, but was worried about my Ja-Ja Bear sitting next to me. After all, the boys were barely tall enough to ride the coasters to begin with. I clung to him for dear life as we zipped around corners and flew through turns. I couldn’t hear him laughing, but didn’t hear him crying, either. Soon, the ride was over and the four of us stumbled out of our seats. James had a look of concern on his face while Jonathan appeared to be indifferent. Dan looked like he was ready to puke.

Over dinner a little while later, James decided he didn’t really like Space Mountain “cause it was a little scary.” Jonathan agreed but said, “I didn’t like it ‘cause it didn’t have any planets.”

Fair enough. No more Space Mountain. Instead, we found ourselves riding the other rollercoasters over and over again, each time with the boys squealing with delight and requesting we ride again. At one point, I asked James if he liked riding one of the tamer rides of the day (I forget now which one) to which he replied, “Nah…it didn’t have enough weee’s in it!”

Over the next two days, we stuck to rides that qualified as having enough “weeee’s.” I lost count of how many times we rode Thunder Mountain or how often our shoes were soaked from Splash Mountain, but it was all worth it.

Our Disney trip was NOT spent on rides like Alice in Wonderland or Casey Junior Railroad - you know, the types of rides four year olds should be riding. If these boys were such thrill seekers at the tender age of four, I can hardly imagine what they’ll be like when they’re teenagers. We’d better be ready for sky diving!

Playground Antics

2011-03-07T21:00:00.000-07:00

Thursday was an interesting day at the playground.

After playschool was over, the boys asked if we could play on the playground across the parking lot from our class. The weather was gorgeous and we had nowhere to be, so I obliged. Like churning balls of energy, they exploded onto the playground shouting and laughing. Minutes later, a few boys and their moms from our class joined us for some playtime. I was happy to make new friends and even more excited for the boys to get some extra social interaction with kiddos their age. Being twinkies that stay at home with us, they are more accustomed to playing with each other and are often timid and shy around other kids.

Very, very shy. So shy in fact, they often request we go to a "quiet playground" without any other kids around. They tend to get lost in the onslaught of kids. I've watched them wait quietly for a turn down the slide and 10 kids cut in front of them. I understand their hesitation...negotiating the world of preschoolers can be tough, but knowing real school is around the corner, they need to get used to it and learn how to navigate their way through it.

Lessons can be tough.

Back at the playground, shyness took a back seat and I watched them interact with the two other boys, partaking in their imaginary play. All four boys were running around engaging in a cross-section of firemen fighting fires, trains travelling too fast down the tracks and pirates commandeering a ship.

It was pure boy bliss until the inevitable happened. One of the kids got hurt. And the kid was mine.

I was talking to the other moms when I heard James cry. One of those cries. He had fallen down three or four stairs of the equipment and was scared. I scooped him up and helped him calm down, thankful he hadn't broken a limb or anything. Jonathan was nearby and when James calmed down a few seconds later, he asked, "James, did that boy push you down the stairs?" James nodded. I felt badly for him. And I believed him. I had seen the little boy give him a shove earlier, but didn't step in. I figured James needed to learn to handle the situation himself. I offered him a chance to go home and, to my surprise, he turned it down. "I want to go back and play, Mommy," he said.

About 15 minutes later, on the other side of the playground, I was helping James on the monkey bars when I heard Jonathan's voice rise above the commotion.

"No! Don't do that. Don't throw sticks at me. You will poke my eye out and I will have to go to the hospital!" I heard him tell the other little boy on the playground. I subtly checked to make sure nothing serious was going on. There wasn't and in fact, the little boy backed away. My boy stood up for himself! Later, on our way back to the car, we talked about the "incidence" on the playground. I told Jonathan I was proud of how he handled himself and told James I was proud of him going back to play after being hurt.

I'm learning raising boys is a delicate balance between teaching good behavior and not being taken advantage of...a lesson I will navigate right along with them.

One for the Books

2011-02-25T21:24:00.000-07:00

I'm not one to write about work on this blog...I use this space to blog about my boys, after all, but I feel compelled to write about today because I want to remember it for the fun and laughs that it was.

I am VERY lucky to work part time and spent the rest of my time with my precious boys. Because I am self-employed, however, work stuff often bleeds into my time with my boys. Sometimes it's a phone call with a client, a last minute meeting or a deadline I absolutely must meet, even on my scheduled days off. I work nights and weekends and cram as much business into nap times as I possibly can - small price to pay for being a part time professional, full time mommy, I say!

The past three weeks have been insanely busy for me. I am extremely grateful for the billable hours, but it's during times like these I find myself feeling distracted when I should be enjoying my time alone with the boys. It's finally hit me they will be in preschool in the fall and starting Kindergarten next year. My time at home with the boys is drawing to an end and I need to soak up every bit of stay-at-home-mom goodness I can - concentrating on only the boys on my "days off" and not letting my mind wander to what I need to accomplish during nap time or who else I should pitch for a project. I am a work in progress.

Anyway, today after breakfast, I checked my email and was pleasantly surprised to see a project I anticipated needing to help complete was in fact done. Hooray! This left me free and clear to focus on having fun with my boys. We didn't do anything particularly exciting, but had fun hanging out with each other.

In a nutshell: we played superheros and built tractor trailer trucks out of Legos. We juiced lemons and grapefruit and sang happy birthday to Hogan. We watched Sid the Science Kid and laughed when Sid's grandma got a flat tire. We snacked. We went to a new park and had a picnic lunch where we swapped chips, dunked carrot sticks in Ranch and ate Twinkies for dessert. Despite their giggling fits, the boys climbed up the tunnel slide backwards and played a game of tag I'm pretty sure had more interchangeable rules than elementary school tether ball tournaments. We waved to the garbage truck driver. We baked peanut butter cookies and watched Barefoot Contessa whip up a fabulous meal for her husband. We read Truckery Rhymes - twice. We had breakfast for dinner, played more Legos with Daddy and ended our day with smooches and zerberts.

Then, after turning out their light for bedtime, I leaned between their beds and whispered, "I had the best time with you guys today, thank you." To which James said, "We had the best time too, Mommy."

Melt my heart.

Brought to You by the Letter "I"

2011-02-23T13:34:00.005-07:00

"I" was the letter du jour last week at playschool. We read a book about a mischievous letter "i," made an ice cream craft and talked about individuals.

When we got to the individuals portion of the day, Miss Kristen had each child lay down on a big white roll of butcher paper before measuring and cutting a piece to fit each kid.The idea was to trace our children and have them decorate their outlines with how they look. Color blue eyes, if they have blue eyes, a green shirt, if they were wearing green, etc.

Of course, my kids had slightly different plans.

After tracing my very ticklish children on their sheets of butcher paper, I let them loose with the crayons. I was curious to see how they would draw themselves. Without hesitation, James drew himself with red eyes, a shirt full of "'splodes" and insisted his outline remain bald.

Jonathan drew his individual with orange and green spikey hair and a moustache. I couldn't help but chuckle. I also realized the other children...ahem, parents...where still working on their individuals and my guys were finished.

Turning to Jonathan, I said, "Hey buddy, why don't you try adding a little more detail to your picture."

His face brightened as he said, "Yeah! I'm gonna draw pee coming out!"

"No, no, no...that's not what I had in mind!" I said in a hushed tone. "I meant, how about coloring a t-shirt or shoes?"

"No thank you," he said. "I think I'll draw a potty."

Thankfully, Jonathan got distracted by something before he could accessorize his individual with said potty.

When it came time to hang the artwork on the walls, I could see how much "help" the other parents gave their children's individuals. One boy's individual adorned a shirt complete with a perfectly outlined RALPH LAUREN on the front.

After we talked as a group about the similarities in every one's drawings, it came time to discuss the differences. One four year old sitting nearby immediately pointed to Jonathan's drawing and said, "I like his. He has hair that looks like cactus!"

Giving my son a high five for a job well done, I couldn't help feeling relieved the class discussed his interpretation of his hair instead of adding indecent to the "i" words of the day!

Twin Love

2011-02-14T09:06:00.000-07:00

Twin Talk: Earthling Amy

2011-02-09T12:55:00.000-07:00

James: Mommy, does Aunt Amy live on Earth?
Me: Yes, just like you!
James: No, I really don't think she does. It's too cold where she lives. I think she lives on Neptune.

Christmas Confections

2011-02-08T16:30:00.002-07:00

There is a lot to love about my mother-in-law. Number 862 on the list is that she likes to bake. A lot. Like me. And, as it turns out, my boys do, too. So every year, right before Christmas, we have a "cookie day" where we bake all day long. It's one of my favorite days of the year. The boys don’t spend nearly as much time in the kitchen as we do, but they enjoy mixing dough, decorating, and of course, taste-testing. This year we extended "cookie day" to THREE days, churning out batches and batches of cookies. It was exhausting, but so much fun! (Have I mentioned how much I like to bake?!)

In addition to our favorite standbys, we branched out and made several new types of cookies, all with varying success. We tried everything from Bourbon cookies to chocolate crinkles to peppery shortbread snowflakes. It was fabulous.

I also tried making Springerle cookies, an old German tea cookie recipe from Dan's beloved great aunt. In her younger years, Aunt Sis was known for her fantastic cooking. In fact, some of my husband's earliest childhood memories include sneaking into Aunt Sis' living room and grabbing her delectable cookies off of the trays that covered the table.

When we got married, Aunt Sis mailed us her ginger cookie recipe and I make them every year. I think there is something so neat about making a recipe that's been passed down and enjoyed from one generation to the next.

Aunt Sis is in her late nineties now and her memory is fading. When we were in Maryland over the summer, we all went to her nursing home for a visit. We were told she may not know or recognize anyone. I was nervous about taking the boys, picturing them either engaging in inappropriate, ruckus behavior or being so uncomfortable and scared they would cry. Either way, I was fully prepared to take them outside and explore the grounds, away from the sensitives of a nursing home.

Turns out, I completely underestimated them.

Upon walking into the lobby of the home, we were greeted with a welcoming staff and a cheery visiting room. Our family was still trickling through the door as Mass was letting out and the residents began filtering out of the chapel and into the hallways. I watched them move slowly up the hallway - some pushing walkers or leaning on canes. Most sat in wheelchairs. I smiled at them...perhaps a bit too forcefully, attempting to cover up the sadness I felt in my heart. Suppressing the tight lump lodged in my throat and the tears stinging my eyes, I looked down at my three year old boys and searched for any inclination of what must have been going their minds. I watched James wave brightly and without hesitation. Curious, I looked up to see a man wave to him and wink.

I don't remember who wheeled Aunt Sis into the visiting room, but she was clearly a lot frailer than the last time I'd seen her 10 years earlier. I expected that. What I didn't expect was my son to be so bold as to walk up to her wheelchair, lay his hand on the arm rest, look her in the eyes and say hello. Introductions were made and Aunt Sis, bless her heart, indulged my son in asking him questions about his vacation, favorite toys and swim lessons.

Relieved and overwhelmed with pride, I retreated to a loveseat away from the commotion. Jonathan, my shy boy, took turns burying his head in my lap and his Opa's. After some prodding, however, he said a quiet hello to Aunt Sis and took comfort in contributing to his twin’s lively conversation.

We had a lovely visit and I’m so grateful our boys got to meet her and that Dan got to spend a little extra time with her when he wheeled her back up to her room.

So, in our own way, our family continued Aunt Sis’ cookie tradition, churning out festive confectionary delights all while making happy memories. And hopefully, just hopefully, my boys will look back on these memories and smile.

Here's to you, Aunt Sis!

An Ad Made for Moms of Boys

2011-02-07T12:16:00.000-07:00

How could I not be in love with this commercial during yesterday's Super bowl?! As a mom of boys, and wife to a man-sized boy, I fell in love with it. Thank you, Volkswagen!

Twin Talk: Sweet Dreams

2011-01-31T20:58:00.000-07:00

James: Mommy, 'member last night when I couldn't get comfortable?
Me: Yes, do you remember what I told you about thinking happy thoughts?
James: Yes. I dreamed about you.
Me: Aww, James!
Jonathan: Me, too Mommy! Only I didn't dream about you. I dreamed about garbage trucks!

Back to Reality

2011-01-17T10:33:00.003-07:00

Whew! We're back! It's been a whirlwind several weeks with Christmas, the boys' birthdays and then a trip to Disneyland! I can't wait to blog about our adventures. And while it's a bummer going back to work and engaging in the mundane, I feel like 2011 is just beginning for us and I'm crossing my fingers it's a good one!

Our plans for the week:
- bake chocolate chip cookies.
- make puppets.
- trips to the park.
- train set.
- swim lessons.
- Preschool Science at the Arizona Science Center.

Let's do it...Happy Monday!

Four Years Ago Today...A Look Back

2011-01-03T11:22:00.002-07:00

Our superheros turn four next week. FOUR! Naturally, this time of year always leaves me feeling nostalgic, recalling the weeks and days leading up to their birth...the day our family was complete. Four years ago today, I was admitted to the hospital for the third time, this time for good. Pre-eclampsia was the topic du jour and we were trying to hold off the boys impending arrival as much as possible.

The morning began like any other, with Dan going to work and me claiming my familiar spot on the couch. Because I was on bedrest, my mom came over to drive me to my doctor's appointment and keep me company. Or so I thought. We had two hours to kill before my appointment and instead of a nice, leisurely visit, my mother arrived in typical whirlwind fashion with a list of to-do's she thought we needed to accomplish.

"Are you packed for the hospital yet? What have you had for breakfast? WHAT?! The boys' clothes haven't been washed yet?! We have a LOT to do," she announced.

She was right, there was a lot to do, but really, all I felt like doing was absolutely nothing at all. I was enormous, hadn't seen my swollen feet in months and my back was killing me.

I watched her scurry around our house while I half-heartedly folded some of the newborn onesies and nighties she had dumped in my lap. Her pronounced energy was depleting what remained of mine.

"Mom, don't worry about it," I told her. "We've got plenty of time. The c-section is weeks away. Put down the toilet brush and relax!"

I don't know if it was a mother's intuition, but she kept going as if she were racing against the clock.

At 9:00, we loaded the wheelchair into her trunk and left for the doctor's office. Dan met us there and pushed me into the waiting room. The room was full of patients, but quiet. I suddenly became painfully aware of my appearance. Not only was my hair unkempt, I wasn't even wearing real maternity clothes (I had outgrown those weeks before). I was dressed in the only clothes that fit me - my six foot, 230 pound husband's clothes, right down to the underwear. I was too uncomfortable and exhausted to care.

My exam was brief and the babies appeared to be doing well (yay!). My blood pressure and protein counts were high, but my OBGYN seemed to think the pre-term labor medication I was taking would continue working its magic for us. That is, until my husband spoke up.

"Do you mind looking at her legs?" he asked. "They seem really swollen."

Upon pulling the blue New England Patriots pajamas up to reveal my tree-trunk of a leg, my doctor gasped. "I can't send you home like this," she said sternly. "You must go over to the hospital for testing. They'll likely admit you so I will come over in a few hours to check on you."

Dan and I looked at each other and sighed. We had been told the week before that if I was admitted into the hospital again, I'd likely stay there until the boys were born.

Strangely, I wasn't upset this time about my indefinite stay at the hospital and neither was Dan. We felt very at peace with the circumstances, knowing my boys would be getting round-the-clock care.

As Dan wheeled me back out into the waiting room, we broke the news to my mom.

"But you can't go yet," she exclaimed. "You haven't finished folding the laundry!"

More Artwork!

2011-01-02T14:41:00.000-07:00

I am getting such a kick out of seeing what the boys are creating. Their imaginations are really starting to show up on paper and (finally) we are seeing some letters pop up as well! James sometimes lets his Type-A perfectionist side get the best of him when he can't put on paper what he sees in his mind, so we're working on trying our best and having fun. Jonathan, on the other hand, delights in discovering where his crayons and paint will take him.

James' "Cab over engine garbage truck with trash flying out."

We have a letter J! James "signed" his artwork - a rainbow after learning about rainbows on Sid the Science Kid.

Twin Talk: Black and White

2011-01-02T14:12:00.000-07:00

This morning the boys, Daddy and I were watching a show about fire engines. When the history portion of the show began and black and white video footage flashed on the screen James pronounced, "They forgot to paint the engines!"

Happy Faces for a Happy Mama

2010-12-17T20:48:00.001-07:00

It's been a long time coming. My kiddos and I must do "crafties" and art projects several times a week together and while I've cherished their creations comprised of seemingly aimless lines and circles, I've been waiting for the real stuff to start seeping into their artwork. A few weeks ago, it did. For both of them on the same day at the same time. Must be ae twin thing. I was so ecstatic, you would have thought I won the lottery. And in a way, I sort of did.

Introducing "Faces" by Jonathan and James.
Medium: Sidewalk Chalk

Jonathan's happy face, complete with hair and a goatee!

James' face "with only a little smile."

A New Christmas Tradition

2010-12-13T22:00:00.002-07:00

There’s something about the holidays that make family traditions so special. Like decorating the house for Christmas Thanksgiving weekend and Mass and McDonald’s on Christmas Eve. As the boys get older, I look forward to introducing them to existing traditions but get even more excited when we can create new ones.

We started a new tradition last week – a simple, albeit fun family outing. We combined a visit with Santa, ornament and Christmas Angel shopping all in one fun day.

A Visit with Santa

We began the day early, loading up the car and taking the boys to see Santa at the mall. They’ve always been good about sitting on his lap every year, but are a bit reserved and shy. This year was no exception.

Santa doesn’t arrive at Arrowhead Mall until 10 a.m., so at 9:45, we were the first family in line. The boys’ anticipation was almost unbearable as they fidgeted with their hands and talked about the other errands we had planned that day. However, as soon as the big man walked out and sat down in his golden throne, Jonathan’s shyness kicked into overdrive as he turned red and scooted as far away from him as possible. When Santa’s elves called the boys over, James bravely walked up to him and gave him a big, “hello!” Jonathan followed in his twin’s shadow and gave an inaudible greeting.

After talking to Santa for a few minutes, the elves called for the boys’ attention to snap a photo. James flashed his vintage, cheese-ball smile while Jonathan filled his right cheek with air and gave a weird grin. I’d never seen him do this before…clearly a response to being uncomfortable on a stranger’s lap with a stranger taking his picture!

After several takes, we got a normal one out of Jonathan – only after the elf requested they say, “LEGOS” instead of cheese. Go figure! I wanted to purchase one of the photos of Jonathan’s silly face, but the elves had already deleted it from the system.

Trains, Trucks and Superheros

After our visit with Santa, we cruised over to Hallmark so the boys could choose an ornament. This extends a tradition in my family I adored as a kid. Every July, when the temperature reached a scorching 100+ degrees and Christmas shopping should be furthest from our minds, my Nana would take my sister and me shopping to pick out an ornament for the tree. It was a lovely tradition and I have quite a collection of ornaments. Each one is included in my own family’s tree and reflects the mood, trend and personality I sported each particular year. Like, in fourth grade, I had a surfer-chic thing going and chose a chubby Santa riding the waves on a surfboard. The year I got engaged, a Barbie bride joined my collection. Now, as a family of boys, my girlie ornaments are quickly being overtaken by testosterone infused trucks, Transformers and trains.

This year, it was the boys’ turn to pick out their own ornaments. They were excited and knew exactly which ones they wanted. James chose a “bullet train” and Jonathan chose a vintage red fire truck. Jonathan asked to pick my ornament out for me. He knew exactly which one I was going to pick anyway…Iron Man! Both boys chose Daddy’s - a Super Friends Super Hero Squad ornament. Each one captures the essence of our family this year.

Christmas Angles

Dan and I usually do our Salvation Army Christmas Angels shopping by ourselves but wanted to include the boys this year to teach them about giving to others in need. After a quick glance through the names hung on the trees, we chose two boys around our boys’ ages. One boy wanted a bike and Play Doh and the other wanted a train set and Matchbox cars. Perfect! So, we headed to Toys R Us and the boys picked out the items on their lists.

Hot Dogs, Fries and Bird Poop

We ended our day by eating lunch at Miracle Mile Deli back at the mall. James wanted to eat outside and since it was perfect weather for a picnic, we decided to eat under the trees outside the restaurant. We had a great lunch, except Dan was “christened” twice by the birds in the trees above. The boys couldn’t stop cracking up about the “bird poopies on Dada’s shirt.” Hopefully that last part won’t be repeated when we partake in our new tradition next year!

Letters to Santa

2010-12-09T14:19:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, the boys had me write their letters to Santa. This was the first year we actually put their wish list on paper and it's apparent we are fully ensconced in a Thomas the Train and Transformers mode! Here is their list, word-for-word.

James
Dear Santa,
I was a good boy this year. I would like you give me a toy. I like:

Splatter
Neville
Slag
The garbage truck book whose name is Stinky.
A cab-over-engine Huffer truck.
A big Mix Master or Long Haul - the ones that are hard to transform.
A cab-over-engine cup.
Cab-over-engine vacuum truck.
A motorized Lady and a push Hank.

You get to eat the cookies and drink the milk. Merry Christmas!
Love,
James

Jonathan
Dear Santa,
I would like:

Dinobots. I like the bumpy Dinobot, the flying Dinobots and Sluge and Grimlock.
The new Optimus Prime.
Stinky the Garbage Truck at Target.
Long Haul.
A Transformers cup.
The baby street sweeper I like at Hobby Lobby.
A motorized Lady and a push Hank.

Reindeer's, these Twinkies are for you. The carrots, too. Santa, Merry Christmas!
Love,
Ja-Ja

Calling All Autobots

2010-12-06T10:18:00.000-07:00

To say my sons love the Transformers is an understatement - especially Jonathan.

Saturday night, we all sat down to watch The Muppets' Christmas Carol. About 15 minutes into the movie, I noticed James seemed a little uneasy with Ebenezer Scrooge's demeanor. I turned to him and said, "Scrooge is not a nice person is he?"

Jonathan pipes up next to me and says, "We need Optimus Prime in here!"

A Lumberjack Weekend

2010-12-03T14:21:00.000-07:00

What better way to spend Halloween weekend then in crisp Flagstaff with Aunt Amy and Uncle Chris? We had a fantastic time and of course, the boys love their Aunt and Uncle to pieces. So much so, when asked what they were thankful for this year at Thanksgiving, both boys replied, "Going to Aunt Amy's house" and "When Uncle Chris throws me into the ceiling." Gotta love the last one...

Despite the brisk, windy weather, the boys enjoyed the homecoming parade. It took Jonathan some time to warm up to the idea though...that boy does not like extreme heat or cold.

After realizing James was making out like a bandit with candy, Jonathan decided to poke his head out of the blanket long enough to get some treats.

There's nothing like a Tootsie Roll Pop and a spider ring to take the edge off of the chilly weather.

After a delicious BBQ at Chris and Amy's and a nap for the boys (let's admit it...Dan, too), we headed over to the game. We got there at halftime and NAU was trailing by a ton, but the boys still had fun watching the action!

Freeman Farms

2010-12-03T13:31:00.000-07:00

Pumpkins still on the vine!

We discovered a cute little family-owned pumpkin patch and working farm in Verde Valley, Arizona. Even though it was a bit of a drive, we wanted to take the the boys to a real pumpkin patch to pick our pumpkins this year. We really enjoyed the cooler weather and quaint atmosphere!

Train-loving boys that they are, Jonathan wanted to shunt the freight.

A Goldfish and a Jellyfish

2010-11-29T21:20:00.001-07:00

For an entire month, my husband and I watched the boys’ swim lessons from behind a coat rack. Our little fishies were having trouble adjusting to not having us in the pool with them and the separation was causing them anxiety. They’d cry in unison, whaling that they didn’t like “svim lessons” and wanted to go home. The manager at the swim school suggested we watch their lessons from a distance, allowing them the chance to bond with their teacher. I can’t say I minded too much…it was harder to hear them crying from that far away.

Weeks passed and Jonathan quickly got over his issues. He perfected his skills and loved being in the water. James, on the other hand, needed reassuring. A lot of reassuring.

“Ja-Ja going to be in the pool with me?” He’d ask over and over on our way to lessons. “Yes James…Jonathan will be right next to you the whole time.”

“Ja-Ja going to be in the pool with me?” he would ask 30 seconds later. Jonathan, growing tired of the redundancy would shout, “YES JAMES! I’ll be in the poo wiff you!”

Gradually, as the weeks went on and the lessons melted into one another, James’ anxiety lessened and he began enjoying his lessons. ..a little too much, if you ask me.

Miss Samantha, their teacher, has become the apple of his eye and he eagerly waves to her and shouts, “Hi Miss Samanfa!” each evening we arrive for class. He’s quite the smitten kitten. When we tease him that Miss Samantha might be his girlfriend, he squeezes his eyes shut and buries his head in his hands.

Jonathan, who has been mastering his swim skills more quickly than his twin, moved up to the Jellyfish class six weeks ago. Before their first class apart, I worried James might digress a bit, longing to have Jonathan, his rock, in his class again. I was wrong. Oh, so wrong.

Not only did James NOT miss Jonathan, he relished the fact he had Miss Samantha all to himself. He talked her ear off and happily built towers out of kickboards in between back floats. Jonathan, whose class is in the next lane over from James, was green with envy. His pouty lower lip jutted out from his sweet little face when he turned to yell to us through the glass, “I don’t like svim lessons anymore!”

It was hard not to laugh at the irony of how the events unfolded and I had fun capturing it on film. Jonathan has since settled into his new class and is rocking freestyle. It’s been challenging convincing James he should want to advance into the Jellyfish class, but we’ll tackle that in time. For now, I’m just glad we’re not watching behind the coat rack.

Making "Cemamics"

2010-11-23T14:21:00.002-07:00

"How about you boys keep your hands in your pockets?" the crotchety store owner squawked to my boys. Misinterpreting her tone, my boys gave her smiles and happily showed her the pockets of their shorts. My husband, on the other hand, was extremely put out and I didn't blame him.

Last month, we thought the boys would have fun painting ceramic Halloween decorations - an activity our family enjoys. There are only a handful of store fronts selling ceramics around town and it probably would have been easier to order our crafts online, but we sort of wanted the boys to pick out their own. After all, they were really excited to paint "cemamics." So, we picked a Saturday afternoon and made the trek to the closest store.

They were amazingly good while they browsed the selection of ceramic creations. James was partial to a ghost with a heart on its tummy while Jonathan searched for a kitty. We were nearly done when the store owner came over to shower us with condescension, raining on our parade.

Her pocket comment was followed by a lecture about being careful in her store, leading my husband and I to exchange heated glances over the boys' heads.

"I'll just take them outside," Dan said. "We'll meet you there."

Our boys are three. I get it. They could break something, but they didn't so the store owner's words stung. My kids were being perfectly good in her store, were not rowdy and discussed their options in careful whispers. Pity she couldn't see that and relish the fact she had a few new customers browsing her aging, dusty products.

We ended up buying the boys' pieces and leaving immediately afterward. And despite the negative impression that store owner left on us, we still had fun painting our cemamics. Next time though, we'll order online.

Just Keep Swimming...

2010-11-12T13:38:00.000-07:00

You know that little ditty Dory sings in Finding Nemo? "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming..." anyway, I feel like that's what the universe has been telling me. Especially when I woke up this morning with a massive headache four Ibuprofen couldn't sequester.

I've been busier than I have been in a long time. Which is a good thing, but also a little stressful. When I'm busy with paying work, I tend to slack off on really important things like chronicling the boys' lives, and such busy little ones at that. Jonathan moved up to a more advanced swim class, James has become quite outspoken at play school and this morning we wrote our letters to Santa.

So, stay tuned...I'll get back on track soon. Until then I'm gonna keep swimmin'.

A is for Apple

2010-11-02T15:50:00.000-07:00

In early September, we took the boys apple picking. In the desert. In 100+ degree weather, but it was a lot of fun!

I'm fairly certain the boys consumed more apples than they actually picked, but that's just part of the fun. We picked a whopping 48 lbs. of apples that day and I'm proud to say, we've used about 97% percent of them. We made a variety of pies, apple sauces, spiced apples, apple muffins, pork chops and apples, soups, sandwiches and desserts. I snapped a few photos of the boys helping me make spiced apples one day in Oma's kitchen.

We're a little appled out.

Mamakus

2010-10-22T21:40:00.000-07:00

I'm taking a fantastic writing class this fall called, Mothers Who Write. I absolutely love it as it's been a great excuse to carve out time each week to write about the boys (my favorite subject, of course), and a welcome break from the stuff I usually write about like economics and whatnot.

While I write this blog to virtually "scrapbook" the boys lives, I won't be posting my pieces just yet - I'm currently revising some of them for another use. But, this week, since I had to miss class because I was under deadline on a work gig, and had already completed my assignment, I thought I'd post them here...maybe the boys will get a kick out of them someday. Or not. :)

We had to write three "Mamaku's," or haiku's about motherhood. I HATE writing poetry, but found these fun. Besides, writing haiku's is so easy even I can do it (or at least I pretended to).

Twins

Twins running, jumping
Chasing, laughing whirlwinds, it’s
Tuesday at my house.

Boys
Energy abound
Rumbling balls of fire
Loyal to their mamas, boys

First Kick
A small poke at first
Later, a robust kick let
me know you were mine.

Cerreta's Candy Factory

2010-10-22T21:15:00.000-07:00

The boys are fascinated with machinery and how things work so I thought I'd take them to Cerreta's for a tour of their factory. The "tour" was little more than 20 steps along a cafeteria-style line with a glimpse into their inter-workings, but the boys had fun nonetheless. Who wouldn't when free, unlimited candy is involved?!

I should also mention our "tour guide" had a sweet spot for the boys. Not only did she offer them piece after piece of the decadent confections, she picked them to demonstrate how to make eggs and bacon - Cerreta style using piles of white chocolate, yellow M&M's and stick pretzels.

All in all, it was a great trip and the boys had fun picking out a pound of candy to take home.

James and Giant Lip

2010-10-07T14:37:00.000-07:00

Saturday night began like any other but didn’t end until well into the next day. I’ve had days like these in my younger years, only this one was completely different. And a lot less fun.
After getting the boys bathed and into bed, my husband and I settled down to enjoy the remainder of our evening together. Beers in hand, we dimmed the lights and retreated to the couch to listen to a Halloween radio drama. Halfway through, at around 10:30, I heard a cry through the monitor. Bounding up the steps, I reached my sons’ room to find my James whimpering.

“I’m sick, Mommy,” he said. “My tummy hurts.”

Thinking I had only moments to spare before my sons’ dinner made its reappearance, I hustled him into the bathroom where we braced ourselves for the inevitable.

But nothing happened. Instead, I discovered what my son was really complaining about and it startled me.

His upper lip had swollen up to at least six times its normal size. For my three year olds sake, I put on a smiling face while I ran through my mental rolodex of things he’d been exposed to that day. Pizza, strawberries, celery, paint from our afternoon craft project…nothing was out of the ordinary. And then it dawned on me. I’d given him some ibuprofen before bedtime to quell a hovering fever. Because of the Bayer recall last spring and the subsequent purging of our cabinets of these familiar meds, he’d ingested a generic form of ibuprofen he’d never had before. This version was not dye-free, which I always buy. Could the dyes in the ibuprofen have done this?

I fumbled with the bottle of Benadryl and gave him a dose. Retreating to the couch, we watched the clock, waiting, hoping for the Benadryl to start working. It didn’t.

After 30 minutes, I gave up waiting and called our pediatrician’s office.

“Give him another dose of Benadryl and get him to a hospital,” the nurse advised urgently. “Now.”

Really? He’s got a fat lip, what could be so urgent about that? Apparently, it can be serious, especially when the reaction doesn’t respond to an antihistamine.

So, my husband scooped up my anxious son while I made arrangements for my mother in law to stay with his brother, still sleeping peacefully in his room.

Upon arriving at the pediatric ER, we were whisked into an examination room where nurses and doctors poked and prodded my son. A brave little thing, James looked up at us with eyes wide with uncertainty, asking to go home.

“We can’t go home yet, peanut,” I said as I climbed into bed with him. “The doctors and nurses want to find out what’s wrong with your lip first. It shouldn’t take long.”

X-rays were ordered and hefty drugs were administered. Along with a lip that looked like a Vienna sausage was growing out of it, James’ uvula was swollen; posing the risk his airways would become blocked.

All we could do was wait – wait for the steroids and epinephrine to work their magic so we could go home.

Except they didn’t work. After all of those drugs ran their course through his body, his uvula was still swollen and his lip remained unchanged.

Around 2:00 a.m., we were admitted into the hospital. Settling into our room on the pediatric floor, voice quivering, James again, asked to go home. He had been so brave downstairs in the ER, cooperative with the poking and prodding, politely declining the nurses’ offers of juice and popsicles and resisting the urge to mess with the IV line poking out of his tiny little hand.

Without shedding a tear, he settled into sleep. I lay next to him and watched his chest rise and fall with his steady, even breaths. He looked so small.

Thankful the situation was not nearly as bad as it could be, it still broke our hearts. I lost count of the number of times Dan had to leave the room because he couldn’t bear to watch what was going on.

Why wouldn’t the meds just work?

After a fitful night of sleep, James woke up with the early morning sun, groggy yet in good spirits. His lip and uvula remained unchanged and we began planning on a longer hospital stay. Then, about an hour later, the swelling started to go away. Just like that. Breathing sighs of relief, packed up our belongings, grateful to be going home.

We’re not exactly sure what caused James’ reaction and our cruddy insurance plan makes testing him for allergies difficult until he’s older. So for now, we are now the new, reluctant owners of an EpiPen and I’m a mom on the lookout for high concentrations of FD &C yellow #6. It had better watch out!

Playmates

2010-09-17T20:43:00.002-07:00

Looking back, it was silly to have worried about it so much. I spent many a sleepless night tossing and turning, contemplating and fretting. How would you interact with each other? Would you get along? After all, it’s one thing to be brothers, but it’s an entirely different thing to be friends.

Surely, being a twin can’t be easy. You are stuck together all day, every day, never getting a moment’s peace from one another. You put up with people who lump you together as a unit instead of recognizing you as individuals. Being together all day, every day would get old and you would need as much space as we could provide you.

Or so I thought. As it turned out, you didn’t need much.

You’ve become best friends - playmates - forever cemented in each other’s hearts. And now that I’ve observed your play for nearly four years, I know that bond will never be broken.

Like superheroes and their sidekicks, you are inseparable.

In the womb, ultrasound technology gave us insight into your playtime habits as you vied for space - kicking noses and mashing cheeks. Later, you sought comfort in the presence of one another, nuzzling your noses so sweetly in your shared bassinet, as if mimicking the environment you left behind.

And the bond has only grown stronger.

Your differences outnumber your similarities, working together to accomplish your goals. You bring out the best in each other and never hesitate to call each other out on his worst.

You think in twos – grabbing a toy for yourself, then grabbing another for your brother and never seem to mind being cramped together on laps, in beds or even on potties.

You delight in each other’s silliness; your conversations hilarious, your giggling infectious.

You’ve got each other’s backs.

I didn’t know it then, but I am sure of it now. Yours is a bond that cannot be broken.

A Moonlighting Superhero

2010-09-13T21:15:00.001-07:00

Around the boys, Dan and I often talk in code. Not a difficult code - in fact, it's one any 7 year old could crack, but it's been one we use in front of the boys.

"Dan! I found a perfect present for X-M-A-S for J-A-M-E-S."

"Oh yeah...so did I. Is it that T-R-U-C-K from T-A-R-G-E-T?

You get the picture. Not only do we swap gift ideas, but confer about everything from discipline strategies to dessert options. It's all right over the boys' heads and it's worked perfectly...until it took an interesting turn last week.

Following our post-swim lessons dinner at McDonald's the boys were playing with their new superhero toys that came in their Happy Meals. The characters were a bit obscure so Dan was educating his superhero novice wife about Blue Beetle and Plastic Man.

We laughed about Plastic Man, noting his rather, um, questionable attire, with low cut leotard and bare legs. To which Dan said:

"Yeah...he looks like a P-O-R-N actor."

James, sitting in the backseat holding said hero said,"

"Yep. He's a P-O-R-N actor."

Poor, poor Plastic Man. He's been outed by a three year old who can't even spell his own name.

First Day of Playschool

2010-09-05T14:06:00.000-07:00

I have much, much more to share about the boys' adventures on vacation, but given the amount of time I seem to let lapse between posts, I could be waiting 'til Christmas to share some exciting news.

The boys started "playschool!" It's a mom-tot program at the local community center once a week for two hours. We figured this would be a nice way to get them ready for real preschool next year. We call it "playschool" because one of their favorite TV characters, Caillou, goes to "playschool" only he goes without his mommy.

We had a fantastic first day complete with two crafts, learning about the letter P, a musical parade, story time and singing. When I asked them what their favorite thing about playschool was, Jonathan told me he liked singing the ABC's and James said it was "the train station" (blocks station during free play where he built trains).

A Bad Day for Crab

2010-09-01T13:32:00.000-07:00

There's hardly any food I love more than crab...crab cakes, claws, soft shell...you name it. The boys got their first taste of it in Maryland when Oma and Opa treated us all to a MASSIVE crab bake. I cannot underscore the word massive enough. Dan steamed some mussles and corn and we ate until we nearly burst.

The boys were mildly interested in eating it and had way more fun hammering the heck out of 'em. Poor crab never saw it coming!

Adventures on an Airplane

2010-08-20T13:43:00.000-07:00

We're back! After a wonderful two and a half week vacation to the East Coast, we are back to sticky, hot Phoenix. Our trip was fantastic and exposed the boys to a lot of new, exciting things. Best of all, we got to visit with family in both Maryland and New Hampshire.

Since this was the first vacation for the boys, I want to remember the details, so I'll be blogging about various parts of it. First up - our airplane rides!

Our four hour non-stop trek to Baltimore had me feeling a little apprehensive. I had a hard time imagining the boys staying occupied in their car seats the whole time, but thanks to entertainment from all of our family members and backpacks stuffed with treats and toys, they were set!

Apprehension Turned to Excitement

Before taking off, James started feeling a little scared. I tried reassuring him of the excitement and thrill of feeling the airplane go up in the air, but he wasn't convinced. With tears in his eyes he turned to me and asked, "We not going to crash Mommy?" How the heck did that cross his 3 year old mind?! I held his hand tightly as we gained speed down the runway. All of a sudden, his worried expression changed to absolute excitement as he cried, "WEEEEEE!" over and over. I couldn't have been happier.

The butterflies in his stomach made him shriek with delight and every twist and turn we made with turbulence made him laugh. At one point he even yelled, "We're going to crash!" which made the good-natured passengers in front of us chuckle. I'm not so sure about the other people on the plane, but didn't care...I was so happy he enjoyed it as much as he did.

Jonathan, our thrill seeker, who I swear is going to be Navy Seal or something dangerous some day, remained absolutely unfazed by the whole thing. He watched out the window during take off and casually went back to working on his truck sticker book. Dan, sitting next to him who is deathly afraid of flying, found comfort in the nonchalant demeanor of his son.

Becoming One of Those Families
Our flight from Baltimore to Manchester was a short jaunt, but quickly became traumatic for James who cried all the way down the aisle to the back of the plane while we were boarding. Dan, the boys and I boarded during "family boarding" which left Oma and Opa to board about 20 people behind us. James thought we were leaving them behind and became inconsolable. We had become one of those families. A family with loud, screaming children (the kind most of us try to avoid, right)?! Walking him down the aisle to our seats, I could feel the stares of absolutely everyone else on the plane. I could swear I heard someone whisper, "thank God we're not sitting near them," but maybe I was just imagining things.

He cried for a solid 20 minutes until he caught sight of them on the plane. And promptly fell asleep. Thank goodness.

Potty Time
I bought a potty ring to take with us on vacation. It was cumbersome and a pain to keep clean, but it was also a lifesaver. Before each flight, I made the boys go potty in the airport before boarding and put them in a Pull-Up in case we didn't make it to the restroom in time. Fortunately, not only did we avoid any accidents, the boys only needed to pee once on the plane during the 5 hour flight home.

It's been years since I've used the facilities on an airplane so I'd forgotten how loud and powerful the flush is. After Jonathan did his business and hopped off the potty we both jumped when everything was sucked down with such force. In fact, Jonathan talked about it the next day!

Leaving a Mark

2010-07-23T13:35:00.002-07:00

Lately, the boys cannot seem to go to Grandma's house without leaving their mark...their own little signature before leaving. Sometimes it's a piece of furniture that's been moved or a scribbled drawing left behind (sorry, Grandma)! This week, Jonathan left two "marks" I couldn't resist capturing on film.

The first - Grandma has a decorative tick-tack-toe board with hens and pigs as the pieces. My son does not like them sitting on the board, instead...he arranges them in a line on the table.

My favorite mark is what he does with her clocks. Grandma has similar clocks (two large and one small) in three different rooms in the house, including theirs. The other day, Jonathan gathered two of them up, brought them into his room and said, "The baby has to be with the Mommy."

Pictured below is the clock family he later arranged in their room.

Gotta Love a Slip 'n Slide

2010-07-08T15:17:00.000-07:00

Dan and I bought the boys a Slip n' Slide after our super-fun play date at Miss Mandi's. Mommy and Daddy have just as much fun as they do!

The Summer of Captain Underpants and Lieutenant Toilet Paper

2010-07-05T05:30:00.001-07:00

Summers in Phoenix are hot. Beyond hot. Unbearable, really. We don't have a pool and unless we get in the blow-up pool before 6 a.m., it's probably the least refreshing way to cool off. Instead, we sit inside sprawled around the fan, sweating, cringing at the thought of turning the a/c down. Again.

Last summer was no exception. Because it was so stinkin' hot, and the boys were at the ripe 'ol age of 2 1/2 and we had nowhere to go, we thought it would be a great time to potty train. the boys spent the summer in little more than their superhero underpants, hence earning the names, Captain Underpants and Lieutenant Toilet Paper.

Potty training is, of course, challenging and potty training twins, well...I can only assume it's just as challenging as a singleton, but I think it really has its benefits, too.

I won't bore you with the details of my methodology on how we trained...it was right for us, but might not be right for others. The process was frustrating, rewarding and interesting all at the same time. I learned a lot about my sons during this right of passage and I think they learned a lot about themselves, too. The best part is, we survived (all of us!)and my boys have been doing #1 and #2 on the potty like champs.

Some musings:
1. Never underestimate the power of an M&M. Or candy corn. Or cherry Popsicles. They are best administered first thing in the morning...exactly when they shouldn't be consumed!

2. Potty charts rock. I made "potty charts" for both boys...they got to put stickers on them when they successfully "went" on the potty. When they filled up their chart, each boy got to pick out a toy from Target. They each picked out the same cheap Tonka crane and we got out of there spending less than $20 when I would have gladly dropped more than $50 for their accomplishments. Go figure!

3. Jonathan is one determined little kid. He does not give up. Jonathan took considerably longer to catch on then his brother, but Good Lord...that boy has an incredible sense of determination. He would watch his brother "go," put his sticker on his chart and enjoy a treat all while desperately trying to put something in the potty himself. He would try again and again until one day he finally got it. The expression on his face was priceless and the reward was all that much sweeter because of his hard work. James was ecstatic for his brother as well, which was so cute.

4. I have a whole new appreciation for my mama-van. Going from driving a little red sporty thing to a Chrysler Town & Country was an adjustment but has a ton of perks. The best? In a blink of an eye, we can fold down the last row of seats, throw a travel potty inside, close the hatch and have our very own bathroom for the boys. This has been perfect when a public restroom is less than sanitary. Disposing of the "results" of said van-potty has been a whole other hilarious challenge.

5. I heart undies. Not buying diapers has been fabulous on our bank account. Thanks, my little superheros!

Vacation on Aisle 6

2010-07-01T13:36:00.000-07:00

We took the boys to story time at Barnes & Noble earlier this week and got to hear four stories about summertime and weather. The storyteller, engaging her audience of youngsters, asked the kiddos a few questions, to which my boys had some fun answers I don't ever want to forget:

Storyteller: It's summertime and awfully hot outside. What sort of things do you do to keep cool? (Most kids answered, "go swimming" and "stay inside.")

Jonathan: "We wear sunglasses."

James: "Yeah, we wear sunglasses 'cause the sun is too hot."

Later...

Storyteller: This next story is about a girl who goes on vacation. Has anyone gone on vacation or going on vacation this year? (One kid went camping, another went to New Mexico. My kids?...)

Jonathan: "We're going to Target to get a toy."

Nice.

This Morning's Project

2010-06-10T14:04:00.000-07:00

Ugh. It's that time of year again. You know the one...summertime in Phoenix. The season where, if you don't get outside before 7:00 a.m., you're stuck in the house for fear the soles of your shoes will melt to the sidewalk.

Summer in Phoenix sucks even more when you've got three year old boys who need to unleash a little energy once in a while. Three year old boys inherited their father's I-can't-tolerate-hot-weather genes and break out in a sweat when the temperature hits 75 degrees.

You can imagine what it's like when my pasty boys are subjected to 115 degrees. Not pretty.

So, this morning, while watching the temperature rise toward the upper 90's before 8:00, I suggested to the boys we go outside for a bit. I was sort of thankful they wanted to stay inside and play. "We want to build track, Mom," they said.

We got out ALL of our Thomas the Train track and the boys worked for nearly an hour building intricate layouts. They had a lot of fun and created a giant mess, and that was peachy with me for it's a small price to pay for a little a/c in the summer.

Hiring Hogan

2010-06-04T14:25:00.001-07:00

Meet Hogan, our adorable four year old cocker spaniel. He is so much more than just a pet to us - he's a loyal companion, protector, snuggler (he's a pro at this) and friend to the boys. He's also a great little business partner!
Since I started working from home two years ago, our socialable Hogan seemed excited to have me home on days he used to spend alone. We've developed quite a routine over the years and I love having him around while I work.

When I sit down at my desk in the mornings, he dutifully jumps up into the recliner next to me and snoozes. All day. Occassionally, he'll follow me out to the kitchen for a snack or lift his head when the phone rings. If I sit on the couch to edit, he'll lay with me, resting his head on my feet. He's such a good doggie!

He's a photo of him ~~buring the midnight oil with me~~ sleeping on the job while I worked on a research project.

Biker Boys

2010-06-01T21:44:00.000-07:00

Santa brought James and Jonathan bikes for Christmas. They were a big hit. The boys practically jumped out of their skin Christmas morning when they discovered them parked under the tree. They couldn't wait to ride them until we discovered their little legs weren't quite long enough to reach the pedals.

Oops.

Fortunately, Santa, relatives and friends supplied a plethora of gifts for the boys to feast on instead and the bikes were put on the back burner for a few months.

One afternoon not long ago, the boys and I decided it was time to try the bikes out again. We got them out of the garage, strapped on our helmets and had a little lesson in bike riding...a short lesson.

Since Dan was at work, I set out to teach the fundamentals of riding by myself. Big mistake. Keeping two boys upright and pedaling was challenging to say the least, but at least we had fun! After a while, the boys just wanted to walk their bikes around...which was ok by me.

Clean Out the Fridge Cupcakes

2010-05-28T13:31:00.000-07:00

I cleaned out the refrigerator and discovered two things. One, I don't clean it out nearly enough (but that wasn't really a discovery, necessarily!) Two (and this supports number one), I had an awful big collection of aging baking supplies. What's a mom to do? Make cupcakes!

Supplies:

- cupcakes

- four opened cans of frosting

- half-used bag of coconut
- leftover Christmas candy

The boys' favorite part, obviously, was decorating. In true W boy style, they put almost as much frosting on their cupcakes as they did in their tummies. It was like Christmas in May!

Cookies Cool Enough for a Boy (or Three)

2010-05-25T10:39:00.000-07:00

Among the many blessings bestowed upon us in life, today, I am feeling particularly lucky to have boys. Why? I got to order the new Star Wars cookie cutters from Williams-Sonoma!

This morning, I had an email from WS in my inbox that practically jumped out of the screen. The subject line read, "Star Wars Cookie Cutters: New & Exclusive!" I totally realize paying $19.95 for four cookie cutters is a bit excessive, but man, they looked cool.

I forwarded it to my lovely husband who wasted no time calling me back saying, "ORDER THEM! ORDER THEM NOW!!!"

So I did. And in in 5-7 business days, we should have Darth Vader and Yoda heads cooling on a rack in the kitchen...a fun thing for my three year old boys and my 30-something husband, the biggest boy on the planet.

What a Boy Would Do

2010-05-05T14:42:00.004-07:00

As the boys get older, it becomes more apparent to me that they are, in fact, boys. No longer are they babies playing with unisex toys, wearing impartial colors and patterns and watching gender-neutral shows on T.V. That has all been replaced with Tonka trucks, blues, reds and blacks and a very distinct affinity for watching automobiles and sports on TV. They ram their trucks into each other at high rates of speed, find bodily functions hilarious and worthy of lengthy discussion and strut with a swagger only a boy can pull off.

In short, the "Y" chromosome is a VERY prominent fixture in our household.

I was reminded of this fact this morning. Opening up a brand new box of Crayola sidewalk chalk, I practically salivated at the beauty of those pristine sticks lined up by color, ready for a willing child to create a masterpiece on our patio. When I was three and opened a new box of chalk, I carefully removed the chalk from its packaging (one stick at a time, of course) and meticulously pressed it onto the sidewalk, careful not to break, damage or diminish it's quality.

As evidence from this morning, boys are decidedly different.

When we opened the chalk, my boys squealed with delight...not because of its newness, but because they couldn't wait to tear into it, grabbing as many sticks as their toddler hands could hold, and throw them down on the ground with all their might in an effort to break them into pieces.

I held my tongue and watched them gather their construction trucks. I soon discovered the chalk, you see, was not to be used for drawing. The boys had far better plans for it.

"What are you guys doing?" I asked as I watched them maneuver their bulldozers and dump trucks around.

"We're workin' at our worksite, Mommy," James answered. "I'm shoveling the rocks!"

"Yeah, and I'm building somethin'!" Jonathan chimed in.

I chuckled to myself as I watched their little imaginations at work. So what if they didn't use the chalk to actually draw...and that they were in a million pieces. I couldn't help but feel in awe of their confident initiative and imaginations...using chalk for something other than drawing on the sidewalk. I'm pretty sure I would never have considered that when I was three. I was far to literal. Maybe it's because I'm a girl. Maybe it's because they're boys. Either way, I was amused and sat down to join them.

"Do I need a construction hat at this worksite?" I asked.

"Nah," James answered. "Just some chalk."

A Swift Kick in the Pants

2010-04-19T21:33:00.001-07:00

Life has a funny way of reminding you of just how good you have it. You know the kind - those odd occurrences that interrupt your life just enough to make you sit back and count your blessings.

Today was one of those days.

I had my yearly exam with my OBGYN today (don't worry...the details of that are not what this post is about)! I've been looking forward to it, actually. I know, insane right? Who the heck looks forward to that? After the number of extremely humiliating procedures, ailments and predicaments I found myself in while pregnant with the boys, those types of exams are mere childsplay. Seriously...I hardly bat an eye.

But that's not why I was looking forward to my appointment. I was looking forward to the 15-20 minutes spent in the waiting room reading my book uninterrupted...a brief break from the stresses occupying our lives and perfect excuse NOT to work. Or clean. Pure heaven.

My heart, however, had other plans. After signing in, I sat down and looked around the room recalling the happy memories of that doctor's office during my pregnancy - My "new pregnancy" appointment where Dan and I sat nervously in the waiting room while they completed my pregnancy test...the first time we heard not one, but TWO heartbeats...the lighthearted scoldings I'd get from my OB about gaining "a bit too much" weight (what...10 lbs in a month is too much?!)...the appointment where my OB put me on bedrest and nearly had to call an ambulance for Dan, and my last appointment where Dan and my mom heaved me into the waiting room in a wheelchair wearing HIS clothes because NONE of my maternity clothes fit anymore (so not joking!)

Happy memories, indeed. So happy in fact, my heart ached to experience them again. I found myself yearning to be pregnant again...to experience that indescribable sense of feeling my precious babies move and kick inside of me. To experience child birth again...soak up that new baby smell and hear the soft sounds of gurgles and giggles.

I felt blue.

I was beginning to feel very sorry for myself when the calling of my name snapped me back to reality. I walked back to the patient rooms past the glowing women rubbing their bulging bellies and smiled at them with envy.

I was still holding my own personal pity party when my OBGYN began conducting my exam. I half-heartedly answered his questions and made distracted small talk until he said something that really snapped me out of my ticking biological clock funk.

"I don't want you to worry," he said while conducting my breast exam. "But I found something I need you to have checked out. I'm ordering an ultrasound."

Crap. My mind raced with possible scenarios and heart pounded in my chest.

With my exam complete and an ultrasound appointment made that afternoon with a radiologist across the street, I numbly walked through the waiting room at my beloved OBGYN's office and into the radiologist's office, a few feet away from where we had the boys' ultrasounds done.

While I didn't necessarily feel panicked, I was a bit worried, nonetheless. My earlier feelings of self-pity about my empty womb were replaced with feelings of guilt. How could I have been so selfish? There I was yearning for a chance at having another child, and I was facing a possibility of a diagnosis that might take my time and attention away from them. Or worse yet...take them away from me.

I pushed those unhappy thoughts out of my mind as I proceeded to get a mammogram and ultrasound. Instead, I thought about all of the times Dan and I spent in those dark, quiet radiology rooms sneaking peaks at our beloved babies via ultrasound technology. Our perinatologist always put us at ease during the boys' measurements saying in an even tone, "Everything is nice and normal." I smiled thinking of all of the times Jonathan had the hiccups and James repeatedly smashing his foot into Jonathan's head and butt (some things don't change, I might add).

Soon, the radiology tech was finished and left the room to consult with the doctor. I lay there in the dark quietly reflecting on all of the blessings I'd been granted. I felt at peace.

A few moments later the tech returned with a smile on her face. My scans were normal and the "lump" was actually just a culmination of tissue that had gathered in an odd place.
Everything was nice and normal.

I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for both the prognosis and for the kick in the pants that reminded me life, as I know it, is good. Very good, indeed.

As I got dressed, the tech entered some data on the computer, turned to me and said, "Hey...do you want to see something cute?"

I briefly puzzled over what sort of "cute" thing she would show me on the computer at the breast imaging office, but hey...I'm no prude and walked over to see.

A moment later, I saw an image that immediately brought a smile to my face and tears to my eyes. The tech had found the 9 week and 20 week ultrasounds of the boys, still on file. We clicked through the images and marveled at the boys' features, positions and sizes.

As I left the office and headed home to my family, I could hardly wipe the smile off of my face. It was a good day, a very good day indeed.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-04-07T14:09:00.001-07:00

Paging Dr. James

2010-04-05T15:13:00.011-07:00

James loves to play doctor. Oma and Opa brilliantly got the boys a doctor's kit for Easter and since Sunday morning, I don't think the stethoscope has left James' neck.

When your three year old is a doctor, you're in good hands. I've had my heart checked approximately 837 times, received nearly the same number of prescriptions ranging in price from "3 dollars," "purple" and "a smooch." With the wide range in cost I'm paying for my plethora of drugs, I'm beginning to think James is about as confused with Obamacare as everyone else.

Needless to say, the doctor's kit has been a big hit. And it's a good thing because I needed a good doctor Sunday afternoon.

As we sat down to Easter dinner Sunday afternoon, with a hint of concern in his voice, Opa said, "The chandelier is moving. Did someone hit the chandelier?"

Glancing up at the swinging light fixture, I said, "Maybe it's the wind blowing through the window."

"No. It's not that. We're moving. The ground is moving." he responded with his voice rising slightly.

We were feeling an earthquake. I felt the earth shift under my feet and went into full Mommy panic mode. You know the kind...that Mama Bear, I-will-do-anything-to-protect-my-cubs mode. In this situation, it was completely ridiculous but felt very real at the time.

I jumped out of my chair to the closest kid and shielded James' head with my hands while snapping my fingers at Dan to do the same for Jonathan. Everyone looked at me like I had two heads (which is understandable because not only was the earthquake minor, putting my hands over my child's head to protect it from falling debris would be about as effective as gassing up the car with Capri Sun.

The shaking was so unsettling, I felt my heart pound in my chest. Dan suggested we go outside. I snapped open James' buckles on his booster seat and flew outside with him, stood in the middle of the yard, and expected the house to crash down on top of itself.

Of course that didn't happen. Instead, the rest of my family meandered out into the yard to listen to the neighbors compare notes on the height of the waves splashing out of their pools.

Realizing the worst was over and that I had totally overreacted, I looked at James and smiled.

"I'm sorry, sweet pea," I said. "Mommy was a little worried about something and it's no big deal. Want to go back inside and finish dinner?"

"It's ok Mommy," he assured me. "It was just the wind."

No three year old needs to worry about earthquakes of course, so I told him he was right.

Later, when the family was talking about what happened, we laughed about my panic-Mommy mode and I admitted my heart was still pounding.

Dr. James came up to me and said, "Mommy...you look sick. I write you a 'scription."

"Thanks, buddy. I could use one about now," I told him. "So how much does it cost?"

"Forty dollars."

Yikes, I was hoping to pay for it in smooches. Oh well, perhaps I'll get my smooch fix at my next appointment.

Twin Talk: Grossness

2010-04-01T14:11:00.003-07:00

Mommy: Jonathan, did you go potty?

Jonathan: Yep. I only went pee.

Mommy: Well, that's still good.

Jonatha, Yep, but a little bit of pee got on my hand so I washed it in the toilet.

I'll let you imagine what I said while I (the germaphobe mom that I am) rushed him to the bathroom SINK to re-wash!

The Case for Cribs

2010-03-28T13:24:00.002-07:00

It wasn't until the boys turned three in January that we decided to transition them out of their cribs and into toddler beds.

Yes, I realize age three is a tad old to be sleeping in a crib, but unless you have twins or siblings close in age sharing a room, it might be difficult to understand. Add the fact these twins are boys to the equation and you'd really agree with our rationale.

Let's paint a picture, shall we?

Jonathan, our daredevil son, began climbing out of his crib at 18 months. I remember that fateful day clearly. No sooner had I laid the boys down for a nap, walked into family room to fold the pile of laundry, did I hear the sound of a door slamming followed by a fit of giggles. The dog and I looked at each other as if to say, "that wasn't me...was it you?!" I ran into the boys' room to find Jonathan out of his crib and in the closet and James, his partner in crime, instructing him to pull clothes out of a drawer, all while hiking his leg up onto the railing getting ready to join him.

At that time, we felt the boys were way too young to be sleeping in beds. Their shenanigans would prevent them from getting any sleep and let's face it - Mommy still needed those treasured nap time breaks!

So, we considered our options. Toddler beds were out and clearly, naked cribs were out, too. Our solution came in the form of a tent. A "Crib Tent," in fact. As cute as "crib tent" sounds, I NEVER thought I would put my children in something resembling a cage (sort of like I never thought I'd use snacks as a distraction while grocery shopping or let them eat Fruit Rollups...my, how perspectives and judgments change when you become a mother)!

The tents were a godsend. So much, in fact, we managed to keep them up another year (two damaged zippers, a hole and an entire new pair of tents later). Coincidentally, my lovely husband is extremely resourceful and did a great job sewing the tents back together on multiple occasions!

We've gotten some strange comments and questions about the tents from first-time visitors to our home. In fact, at Amy's bridal shower, Amy's sister in law overheard one of the guests speculate we had a mosquito problem. Nice.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. After hunting and bargaining for two blue race car beds, we were ready and the boys were excited. We surprised them with two sets of bedding - trucks and superheros. Our little munchkins took to their beds right away, but, nearly four months later, are still completely CRAZY at nap time. Moments after I say goodnight and close the door, the plotting begins, ruckus behavior ensues and the sound of uncontrollable laughter permeates the room. I've learned to let them go and get it out of their system before separating them for "real" nap time which consists of James staying in their room while Jonathan sleeps in Mommy and Daddy's bed.

Bedtime is slightly different...they fall asleep without any trouble, but are VERY early risers and have been known to wake each other up at 5 a.m. to begin their day..hence waking us up at 5:00 a.m. to begin our day. We're in the process of teaching them to "tell time" by putting a digital clock in their room, instructing them not to come out until they see a 6 next to a 3. Our hopes for an extra hour of sleep were dashed, however, when the boys discovered a loophole in the system - fool Mommy and Daddy. Lately, the boys will wake up, burst into our room and announce, "It's six-thirty! Time to get up!" Roused from a dead sleep, I'll drag myself out of bed and reach for my glasses only to discover it's nowhere near 6:30. I believe the earliest I've been tricked was 5:40, which makes for a very grumpy Mama!

So, the case for cribs rests. It was well worth keeping them in cribs for as long as we did because it kept some order and peace. And let's face it, I love getting a little extra sleep in the morning. Maybe I can convince them to let us put the cribs back up and keep them in there until kindergarten.

Twin Talk: Muscles from Brussels

2010-03-18T13:28:00.002-07:00

The boys and I were at the park this morning enjoying the beautiful spring weather. Jonathan has learned how to climb UP the slide and thinks it's the funniest thing on the planet.

Naturally, James wanted in on the action.

Mid-climb on this second attempt, James and I had to following conversation:

James: MOMMYYYY! I need help!

Me: You can do it, buddy! Just try a little harder.

James: I can't. I don't have my muscles on today!

Wordless Wednesday

2010-03-17T06:00:00.000-07:00

Twin Talk: Reality Check

2010-03-12T13:19:00.004-07:00

As I was preparing dinner last night, the boys were playing with Play-Doh at the kitchen table. Dan sat down with the boys and was talking to them about their creations. Here's the conversation:

Daddy: James, that looks really cool! What did you make?

James: Snakes!

Daddy: Wow...do they have names?

James: Umm, no. They don't have faces. And they don't talk. And they are Play-Doh.

The look on James' face read, "Duh, Daddy!"

Wordless Wednesday

2010-03-03T06:00:00.000-07:00

The Negotiators - Revisited

2010-02-21T14:30:00.005-07:00

It's funny how being a twin forces you to learn negotiate the trials and tribulations of life at an early age. You know...the big stuff like sharing. Our boys are certainly no exception. I posted this entry to my old blog exactly a year ago and chuckle when I think of how the boys' negotiations have evolved over the past year. I finally resorted to setting a timer when fighting over a toy ensues. I'll be in another room and hear one of them yell, "MOMMY!!! Set timer!" While it's nice having an electronic device settle squabbles, I do worry about how they'll handle sharing issues in school. More than once Jonathan has come to me in the middle of a playdate and asked me to set the timer. At someone elses' house.

Though fewer and farther between, the disputes have intensified, often involving punishment only brothers can dish out to each other. I'm constantly amazed that grudges remain non-existent and they continue to barter and trade with the best of 'em. I am still convinced my boys have a very promising future in lobbying (and those of you who know my experience in government know how much it pains me to say that)! :)

I have high hopes for my boys and their future careers – scientists, doctors, you name it. Being their mom, I, of course, think they are capable of anything. Lately, however, I’ve pondered a particular career path they may be destined for…negotiators. They are oddly talented and have had plenty of opportunities to hone their skills. I envision a stint with the FBI, earning a laundry list of diplomatic privileges or maybe even an appointment to Secretary of State in their futures. The possibilities are endless and I have no doubt they’ve garnered the talent of arbitration from being twins.

It’s tough being a twin. Aside from the fact you share just about everything in the world, it’s often necessary to stake your claim. When you can’t have your way, you find ways of getting it.

The boys’ negotiations started back during their days in the womb. I’d feel them move around and kick for space in my belly. I can never be certain who came out on top of these kicking matches, but it was like the World Cup in there and I’ve even got the 3D ultrasound images to illustrate it. We have a photo of Jonathan mashing his foot into James’ face and one of James squishing Jonathan’s face with his bum. It’s no wonder they were born early…they were fighting for space and wanted OUT!

The negotiations continued and in fact, they’ve intensified. The boys negotiate their wants and needs through their interactions with each other utilizing various forms of thievery, bartering, trading and manipulation. One day I tried to count the number of times they tried negotiating with each other but I lost count. Don’t get me wrong, for the most part, they play very well together, but squabbles are bound to pop up. They share just about everything from their room, to toys and attention from mom and dad, so it’s no wonder the concept of sharing and taking turns are tough for little guys to understand.

Visions of their future occupations as negotiators first popped in my head last year. Most little ones’ first words are things like, “ball” and “dog.” Our boys’ were “share” and “trade.” When one boy wants what the other has, they’ll yell, “TRADE!!!!” while shoving the trade offer in the other one’s face. If it sounds abrasive, it is, but amazingly, it often works.

Sharing is a tougher concept in the world of toddler twin negotiations, especially for Jonathan. He often thinks sharing and trading should mean he is entitled to whatever object is desired. Like most two year olds, our boys need to have what they want at all times and simply cannot understand when one tries to take a coveted toy or stuffed animal away. Tantrums are thrown, tears are shed and the whole thing is quite dramatic. When I ponder their future diplomatic professions, I assume those sorts of reactions will vanish but I can’t help but wonder if in the middle of a peace treaty, Jonathan will stand up on his tip-toes, slam his fist on the table and yell, “SHARE!” to the warring factions.

Their latest squabble has been over the hose in the backyard. Both boys like to pretend to water the plants and spray the yard with the nozzle (which is always off…I won’t make that mistake twice!) They each make their own water noises and water every plant with great care and intensity. It’s very sweet to watch until one of them decides the other is having entirely too much fun and wants to join the party. Again, tears are shed, tantrums are thrown and I’m the one left yelling. I instituted a “take turns” rule and the boys are determined to make sure I don’t forget about their turn to use the hose. The byplay proceeds like this:

If it’s James’ turn to play with the hose, Jonathan hovers over him like a hawk stalking a field mouse. Every 30 seconds or so, he’ll glance up at me with pleading eyes and say, “Turn?”

“Not yet, buddy,” I’ll say. “It’s James’ turn. In a few minutes it will be your turn. Just hang tight.”

“Tight,” he’ll repeat and nod.

A few minutes later, I’ll take a deep breath, bracing for a fuss and tell James his turn is over and he needs to hand the hose to Jonathan. He’ll inevitably cry, throw the hose on the ground and yell, “TRADE!” before running away.

And then we start the process over again. It’s exhausting.

Last week, I was beginning to think our little backyard lessons weren’t having any effect on them until something wonderful happened. During one of their hose exchanges, I got so fed up with the whining I ended our backyard fun and marched the boys into the house. My ears were ringing and the boys needed a break from the supposed “sharing.” As I got their snack ready, I poured the milk, setting James’ cup on the table while I got Jonathan’s milk ready. No sooner had I set James’ cup down when Jonathan walked over to the table, picked up James’ cup and brought it over to him. My heart swelled. He brought his brother his cup before even touching his own.

I nearly jumped for joy.

“What a big boy, Jonathan,” I said as I gave him a hug. “That was very nice of you to share the milk with your brother.”

Jonathan smiled as I put him in his high chair. And then I made the fatal decision of giving James cheese and Jonathan oranges.

“TRAAAADE!!!”

Ah, well…at least we’re making progress!

The Joys of Boys

2010-02-02T17:00:00.002-07:00

I haven't always liked cooking. In fact, it's fair to say I disliked the whole process all together. I wanted to like it. In fact, when Dan and I were first married, I cooked quite a bit but never really got into it. Cooking, for me, was more of a chore than a sense of enjoyment. The Joy of Cooking was NOT happening for me.

And then I had the boys and that all changed.

Starting from the moment our ultrasound tech typed, "I'm a boy!" proceeded by, "I'm a boy, too!" on the screen, I relished the idea of feeding a couple of hungry, growing boys...piling their plates high with heaping spoonfuls of yummy food. Have I mentioned I LOVE having boys?

Finally, I was excited to cook.

It started with making their baby food. Seeing how much we were spending at the grocery store every week on mushed up goo made me decide to venture out into making some on my own.

I started small, making things like applesauce, mushed up blueberries and steamed veggies. The color of the food came out much more appetizing than the stuff that came out of the plastic containers and I got such a kick out of seeing my boys not only ingest, but enjoy the stuff I made them myself.

From then on, my love of cooking has blossomed and I can't seem to do enough of it.

I'm very fortunate to have a houseful of brave and forgiving boys who aren't very picky because I've made some DISASTROUS meals!

Now that the boys are getting older, I try to involve them in the cooking process, too...which can be hairy with a couple of three year old boys who LOVE making messes! But, hopefully years from now, they'll have fond memories of cooking with Mom in the kitchen (even if it entailed rolling the cylinders of decorating sprinkles across the tile and crashing them into the cabinets!

The first time I made anything with them in the kitchen was making a batch of soft molasses cookies with James over the summer. He was feeling a little under the weather, so we kept him home from swim lessons. While Daddy and Jonathan went to the pool, I wanted to do something special with him since he had to miss out on all the fun. So, on a whim, I got out the step ladder and we proceeded to have a wonderful time making cookies. He loved dumping the ingredients into the bowl and using the electric mixer to combine everything. What a cutie!

Since then, the boys have helped me make lots of fun things...pizza, cookies, cupcakes...the works. We've been even busier in the kitchen since Christmas when my fabulous niece and nephew got me Sesame Street's, C is for Cooking! Our cooking adventurers have expanded and our interest has piqued. I'll share our experiences in another post soon.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-01-27T06:00:00.000-07:00