Returning to Manageable

Noah is out of school for the next month.

With his high level of energy and wild pendulum swinging between Most Lovable Kid Ever and the Constantly Screaming Rudeboy, having him home for vacation can either be easier (no carpool to interrupt our day!) to much harder (trying to put out three fires at a time instead of the usual two, while cleaning house, and trying to make life entertaining and educational for young people).

But this time it has been different. And I think it's because the twins are maturing!

You know how people say "Oh, Honey, enjoy them while they are young! They grow so fast!" Well, don't get me wrong, I am totally enjoying them. But I look at women at the grocery store with middle-age kids and watch how the mom just shops and the kids actually follow without getting hit by cars or shopping carts, or knocking things off the shelves! It's downright astonishing!

And I yearn for my kids to be middle age: to go on adventures; to not be tied down with naps.

Look at the last four school breaks (Noah's school has 3 one-month breaks a year, not all together in the summer like most folks do). For the first of the last four breaks, I had Noah in day camp because it was just too hard to entertain him and manage the twin toddlers. I mean, I could do it, but it meant rarely getting out of the house and doing something fun for them.

Noah hated camp.

The last two times, I kept Noah home from day camp because he wanted to be with us. Why spend the money? I was able to manage getting out to some playgroups and such, playing in the back alley with the neighbors, and going to the neighborhood park. The twins had just turned three.

This current vacation break? I took all three of them to the dentist, across town to see a house for sale, into the post office, and then to the local kid friendly coffee house for play time before heading home, and all before LUNCH, baby!

And then today, the very NEXT day, we went to the park, had a picnic, rode a bus, went to a mobbed train museum (it was free museum day), ate cookies on the grass, rode a bus again! All without a stroller! The kids stayed with me, they followed direction, they held hands, they didn't fight, they dealt with crowds, and had a great time!

The twins are three and a quarter now. Some of you might think my kids should be able to manage all this just fine by now, but keep in mind, with twins, they don't get the practice singletons get walking with a parent and following along because if one goes off one direction and the other goes another, you can't keep them both safe. And if one gets out of the stroller, the other must as well!

Some years back, I was told by two separate twin moms that it all starts becoming easier, and more like normal life, like other people's lives, when the kids turn four. For singletons, it's age two. Double that for twins. But I think I am getting a reprieve. I think we are going to be an on-the-go family again, on a regular basis soon.

Very soon, indeed.

Happy Birthday, Big Brother

Today is the 45th birthday of my brother, David. It kind of freaks me out that he and I are now firmly entrenched in our 40's. It probably freaks my parents out even more.

I want to thank David for sticking by me all these years... for letting me hang out with him and his friends in the backyard, even if I always ended up hurt and crying after a rough game of "Smear the Queer" (not that there is anything wrong with that).

He also taught me how to build an actual space rocket (a three seater!) in our local junkyard when I was in first grade that would have actually flown to the moon if only the vacuum tubes we could find scattered between the junker cars had not all been broken minus one.

He didn't freak out at all when I dated his roommate my first year of college, nor did he yell too much after I pulled all the unpaid pink parking tickets out of his glove compartment and spread them all over my lap while looking for the car registration for the cop that had just pulled him over (He might not have been so understanding if the cop had understood what he was looking at).

So, Happy Birthday, David. I lucked out when I got you as a big brother. I hope you have at least another 45 good years ahead. I love you.

This Is The Dawning!

Do you sometimes feel like rolling your eyes on Valentine's Day; forced to express the love you feel everyday with some sort of heart shaped cardboard? Well, consider this...

According to cosmologist Jude Currivan, at dawn on this Valentine's day, the stars and planets will move into the alignment expressed in the song Age of Aquarius/Let The Sunshine In.

In her words:

"At dawn on 14th February the day dedicated to St Valentine, the patron saint of Love, the Moon in Libra enters the seventh house of relationships. And Jupiter and Mars are aligned in Aquarius in the twelfth house of spiritual transformation.

Forty years ago, the intuitive words of a song called Aquarius, brought the dawning of the new age into our collective awareness:

When the Moon is in the seventh house
And Jupiter aligns with Mars.
Then peace will guide the planets
And love will steer the stars!"

Now, this is talking about dawn on Valentine's Day according to GMT. So here in California that would mean 11:25pm tonight, 3:25am Eastern. And the alignment will happen for 18 minutes.

So, who is ready to let some love steer their stars? The Dawning of the Age of Acquarius... now that's almost worth buying a Hallmark card for!

Soup Is Good Food

My eldest son ate soup for lunch today.

I know a lot of you are going, "yeah... okay... this is gonna be one of those blogposts about the minutia in her life, I guess".

My mom is probably getting up off the floor because she fell out of her chair.

See, my eldest is one of those kids with food... shall we say... ISSUES? Yes, food issues. He eats only about seven things and has for quite some time.

He will very politely say, "no, thank you." if you offer him applesauce or grapes or peaches or corn or macaroni and cheese or raisins or peanuts or watermelon or even JELLO for g-d's sake!

But today he ate soup for lunch. And soup is not one of the seven foods.

Just getting him to come to the table takes some coercion at times, and we worry that we are making food to much of a stress in his life. We have tried backing off, feeding him only what he eats, feeding him only what he doesn't eat, talking about health and growing up strong, pointing out that his body is a good deal smaller than his friends his age and why. We have offered choices in case it was a control issue. We have taken away choices because we feel we serve him as if he is in a restaurant.

We have considered therapy to find out what is at the base of all this, how his mind is thinking about it, how his hunger (or lack thereof) ticks.

He fled from the table after eating less than a tablespoon of food for the second time in three meals, and at my wits' end I sat down with him and had this epiphany. Gee... maybe I should talk to him like a therapist would, really listen and not judge. Get him to keep on talking about it until he gives me some truths.

So I asked him why he felt he always wanted to leave the table. Why he never wanted to come to the table? Why he stopped even when there is food he likes? He started out saying that he worried he would get messy or spill his milk. Drip syrup on himself. I asked him if I had ever made him feel bad about messing his shirt or the table and he dropped that line right away. And then he said...

"Eating is just boring. I always eat the same food over and over and over again. It just gets boring."

Really. What a shock.

So, I explained to him that the reason he gets the same food over and over again is that whenever I serve him anything else, he refuses to eat and will go a whole day (or two!) without eating. I explained that if he even added back in the foods that he USED to eat and decided he no longer would, like Mac and Cheese, and pasta and scrambled eggs, then he would not have to have the same meal he just ate the day before yesterday, again today!

And would you believe the lightbulb went on?

The very next thing he said was could he please have pasta for lunch?

"Um... YEAH!"

"And ravioli for dinner?"

I checked his forehead for fever. Normal.

I checked mine.

"Sure, honey, we could do that!" ignoring the fact completely that ravioli is pasta, but then how would someone who eats seven foods even know that?

So he had pasta for lunch. And that night for dinner he ate ravioli. And he thanked us for it!

He had his usual cereal for breakfast today. And for lunch? Yup. He asked for soup! He ate about three tablespoons of it and nothing else, but he said it was warm and good, and could he have it again sometime?

I just stammered as his tiny little six year old self in his 4T pants skipped out of the room.

Our Twosome is Three

Well, it seems my babies are turning THREE today. And I guess I will have to face up to the fact that I don't have babies anymore. Having twins has been such a body slam of a learning experience, but as difficult learning experiences go, one couldn't ask for better.

I thought it might be fun to look back on some pictures of the kids' first three years.

They were born in 2005, five days before Christmas. But they came six weeks early, after a futile night of drugged stupor trying to keep them inside my body for as long as possible. It seemed Luka was pushing Ethan out and wanted a room of his own, as he stayed inside more than an hour after Ethan emerged.

Both boys were head down, and I succeeded in giving birth the natural way, even though we did it in the surgery, with the docs and nurses scrubbed for a possible sudden C-Section. As the birthing went on in a gentle, normal way, the masks came down, the gloves and little paper hats came off, and it was a very relaxed and happy environment albeit more sterile than the pretty birthing rooms down the hall.

They were both little over four pounds each and were whisked away to intensive care, where they were tubed, wired and gently cared for. It was not the "mommy and me" moment I had been imagining but I really wanted to know if they were okay, and have any immediate treatment given if necessary.


Luka seemed happy to see Ethan again when they were reunited. Despite being six weeks early, the medicine they gave me the night before to quickly mature their lungs seemed to do its job, and aside from a short period of being given oxygen, they did quite well on their own.

I did get some skin on skin time shortly afterward. This is Luka above and Ethan below, just outside of their little incubator beds they would spend the next three weeks sleeping in, when not cuddling with Mommy. You can see the strain of the nasty Magnesium Stupor I was in (the medicine used to keep the babies inside me made me stu-pid!). Look how little Noah was. He had just turned three... the age my (not) babies are today.

Our hospital was AWESOME as they provided a FREE room for me to live in for three weeks so I could bond with the twins and provide as much breastfeeding as possible. It was odd to call the hospital home. Snowstorms raged outside and I hung out in my hospital room and ate every meal in the cafeteria. Every three or four hours around the clock I would go to the NICU and scrub in, and attempt to breastfeed and pump what was left over to be sent down their feeding tubes when they grew too tired to drink anymore. While being willing, they never really became adept at taking in as much as their bodies required, so I fed both babies and the pump for the next few months.

Here they are with Daddy in their Christmas best! That is Ethan in green and Luka in blue. The NICU nurses decorated all the little beds for the holidays and surprised us with ornaments that had their footprints on them. Every one of those nurses was beyond wonderful, specially chosen to work with these tiny troubled babies.

Here they are sleeping together in the NICU. I love the intensity of Luka's eyes. This might have been the last time Ethan was the sleeper while Luka was awake. Their heads, when born were just a little bigger than tennis balls. Those are my hands.

After three looooong weeks, they jumped through the NICU's hoops, passed their "thriving" tests, and were allowed to go home. Ethan actually got released a couple days prior to Luka and stayed in my hospital room with me. The last two nights before heading home I got NO sleep at all as Ethan was the LOUDEST tiny sleeper I have ever seen. Even when I wasn't wheeling him to the NICU to visit his brother every three hours, his crazy snoring kept me awake in the short naps I attempted between feedings. I went home in such a fog.


At home, I had the benefit of my mother's help, who moved in with Michael to care for Noah the whole three weeks I lived with the twins in the hospital. Then she was there most every day to help us out at home. I have no idea how we would have managed otherwise.


After easily fitting into our home and our family, Luka and Ethan's personalities began to emerge.

Especially Ethan's...



And Ethan taught Luka to be as goofy as he was...

Living in Ohio just outside of Twinsburg, we took advantage of the annual Twins Festival. These guys were voted "most alike". Our guys could probably have won "least alike" if we had tried.


Noah never really went through that whole sibling jealousy thing, thank goodness. He has been a pretty caring big brother. Mostly. Heh.


We laugh sometimes that we have a dark boy with black hair, a medium boy with brown hair and a transparent boy with blond hair.

As much as I looooove my boys, some of my favorite times are the rare occasions when they are both unconscious.


It's been SO fun watching them grow and learn...


...and become friends as well as brothers.


I could live without all the mischief and destruction of personal property.

The boys are as different as night and day. Luka, despite being the quiet one, might well become the leader. He is physically gifted, balanced and exhuberant. He hops and runs more than he walks. Ethan is the jokester. He is also "the lover" of my three kids, giving me the cuddle-fixes I need on a daily basis. He knows how to work his flirting skills as well.

I love this picture... they actually look like twins in this one.


I love that they have each other, and always will.


Despite their differences, they will be in each others lives in bad times...



And in good times.


My birthday wish for them is good times.
And lots of them.

Happy Birthday, Sweetie-boys!

And A Good Time Was Had By All

Noah had his second birthday party this past weekend. I had only planned this one, but his Mima couldn't make it and so came down the weekend before and took him and his two cousins to Chuck E. Cheese. So, he really lucked out this year.

He really wanted to invite his whole class, and since we have never really thrown him a multi-kid party we decided this year we would go a bit bigger, (as long as he understood next year would be a smaller event, again). We thought it was important that he feel like the center of attention among his class since he has struggled with a feeling of being an outsider (which does seem to be clearing up this year).

His school is experimenting with keeping his class together as a group for a three year period, so I hoped having lots of kids come to celebrate with him would make him feel more included. Unfortunately, every child who RSVP'd was a girl (not that there is anything wrong with that). We did also include a neighbor friend who is a boy, and they mostly hung together, but Noah seemed to feel really happy and EVERYONE had a great time.

We went to Airtime which is a big room with all kinds of different inflatable playthings. If you are local, we LOVED the slick job these guys did with birthday parties and they also have drop-off Mom's Nights Out where they feed your kids!

Here is a video of the fun... You might want to turn your volume down a bit first. It starts out kind of loud! The room was not that loud, I swear, but the camera picked up every blower in the room!

Now We Are Six

A few days back my oldest son turned six.

Yeah, I am not really sure how THAT happened, but it has. I am the mother of a first grader. One who is SIX.

We explained to him that on some years he might have a big party and other years we would just go out for a pizza together as a family and Mama would make a cake. But we decided this year we would have a big party. But what with timing of the place we wanted to have it, we were forced to celebrate two full weeks after the big day.

We thought we would do a quiet birthday DAY, and have the party later. As it turned out, though, Mima, Papa and the cousins can't make it to party day, so we decided to have them come on the actual DAY and Mima took them all out to Chuck E. Cheese. Noah got to play, was in a birthday parade, danced on the stage, got a medal and a candle to blow out, and was able to hang with the cousins. Then they all came home for cake! It was TWO cakes actually, because Cousin K's birthday is this coming weekend, as well!

When it was all said and done, it felt like a full-fledged crazy birthday with no need for more, and yet we still have the BIG party coming up this Sunday. Sigh. Ah well. He deserves it.

He is six, after all. And that doesn't happen just any old day.

If you want to see more pictures of the shenanigans, check them out here. And don't be surprised when "Part Two: The Big Party" comes out.

My First Grader

I guess he is an old hand at it already.

Noah started first grade today and after a week of hinting at not wanting to go, and asking to stay home with me for the rest of his life, he tossed his backpack over his shoulder and headed out with Daddy for the first day of school without a qualm.

Our school district is trying out a new idea... to keep a whole kindergarten class together as they move forward into first grade, and then again into second grade. It's to help them have some stability and friendships in place as they move out of their comfort zone into a new room with a new teacher. At third grade they will begin mixing kids again.

I picked Noah up after school and he said he had a great day, and was eager to show me around his new room. He seems to really like his teacher who gave him a paper cone filled with candy which is apparently a custom in Germany.

Things seem to be going very well so far, although we have seen a pattern of very disruptive behavior about 2 or 3 days into school after a long vacation break, so this time we are prepared for any backlash.

On the way back to the car, he asked if we could pop into his old kindergarten room. When we found his kindergarten teacher from last year, he asked her if she was enjoying her new class, and then said he had stopped by so he could give her a Hershey Kiss out of his cone.

She nearly cried. So did I.

He really is a great kid.

PHOTO ESSAY: The Splurge: or Why I Am Frugal All Year

Tuesday will be Michael's and my eighth wedding anniversary, and in what is becoming a tradition (YAY!) Michael's mom came down to spend the night with the kids so we could go out for a weekend night on the town!

This year was awesome (especially in light of last year's event, rolling into a little bed and breakfast town just as the shops closed up, Michael trying valiantly not to vomit all night, etc.)! We stayed in the city this time, and got a half price deal on an awesome hotel in the Gaslamp Quarter of San Diego called the Hotel Solamar. We checked in to find a big room with the chocolate and blue design scheme I love so much, and a funky little bathroom.

They teased us with one of those nasty little snack drawers full of imported chocolates and tins of pistachios and such, for which they charge you an arm and a leg if you succumb. Our room looked down on the "JBar", a rooftop bar with a pool, lots of cushy chairs, cabanas and fire pit bowls. We had a couple glasses of wine before heading down to the street to walk to our restaurant for dinner. Its a good thing we chose a place within walking distance because the wine kicked in for both of us right away.

Candelas was so romantic, with its dark corners and dozens of candles and eclectic music. I had the Sea Bass after an amazing four cheese soup, and Michael had baked eggplant. Luckily, a portion of Michael's dinner was undercooked, because in apology, our server brought us an amazing dessert, Pastel de Tres Leches. Yummmmm...

After dinner we hung out in the lounge at Candelas, on their dark corner sofas, soaking in our lack of responsibilities. It was so nice not to feel like we had to hurry home. When we were done lounging, we headed back into the streets. It was dark now, but there were thousands of folks wandering the streets of "the Gaslamp" eating in the outdoor cafes, standing in line for bars. At street corners, waiting for the light to change, there were dozens of people on each corner waiting to cross. I haven't smelled so many clove cigarettes since about 1992.

Eventually, we headed back to the hotel and spent a little time at the JBar, but it was a bit too crowded and seemed like too much of a singles scene for us old married folks. So we headed up to our room for a little alone time.

I don't really have any pictures of that.

The next morning we headed down to breakfast at the JSix restaurant, and OH MY I had some of the finest french toast Evah! It was nice and crispy with lemon cream heaped on it and lots of berries.

I couldn't stop taking pictures of the lovely decor, and our waiter insisted if I liked photography, I should check out the "wall of fezzes" around the corner. You know I just had to!

We took a bit of a spin around the neighborhood to walk off breakfast, and even found a little mini farmer's market where we bought a loaf of Challah from an Austrian bakery for Michael's mom, but the town itself looses a bit of its magic in the harsh light of day.

We came back and checked out of the hotel, headed home to the kids, and were greeted with lots of hugs and kisses and relieved looks from Vera (just kidding, she is a pro!). It's almost single-handedly because of Vera that I still have my sanity, sometimes.

It was just so lovely, romantic and rejuvenating. And my hubby didn't miss a chance to keep reminding me how much I am loved and cherished. But then, we don't need a nice hotel and candlelight for that. He is always good for keeping the love flowing.

That's one of the reasons I married him.

Happy Anniversary, Sweetie. I love you, too.

More

I set the plate down in front of Noah wondering if I had given him too much. Would I be tossing some of his uneaten leftovers in the garbage or would I be eating it myself to prevent the waste? It was just a 3/4 size bologna and cheese sandwich and 4 apple slices covered in peanut butter, but still. If you know my son, you know what I mean.

I busied myself while he ate, trying to get some things done, and we chatted about our day.

And that's when it happened...

Out of the blue... like it happened every day.

He asked for more.

!!!

For those of you who know my son, I will allow you this moment to pull yourselves off the floor and take a breath. For those of you less familiar with his habits, I must let you know that he is five and a half and wears size 3T pants. He shares shorts with Ethan who is 2. He weighs about 37 pounds soaking wet.

And he never asks for more.

But today, the clouds broke open and the angels began to sing.

Five and a HALF

My oldest is five and a HALF today!

He is very excited about being able to call himself that now. It’s funny: in the morning he usually likes to finish his breakfast quickly so he can play 10 or 15 minutes of computer games before school. But THIS morning, after he quickly ate, he asked if we could hang out in the living room so he could get some “Mommy Love”, instead. You know I wasn't gonna pass THAT up!

I told him I would LOVE that, and that as soon as I finished making my coffee I would be right in. He said, “Okay! I will be waiting on the LOVE seat!”

Michael and I both got a giggle out of that.

I came in with my mug to find him setting up the love seat with three pillows and a blanket so we could get comfy. And comfy we got. I told him that I was surprised he was giving up his computer time to be with me, and he said that it was a special day (being five and a HALF and all) and he wanted to spend this time with his mom. Awwwww…

I told him that birthdays (even HALF birthdays) are just as special for moms as they are for the kids because it reminds us of how happy we were when our child came into the world.

When it was almost time to get to school, I asked if it was okay for me to get up and get his shoes for him. He said, “Sure!” and so I went to get them. When I got back, I saw that he had run to my room while I was gone and brought back "Bunny", the stuffed animal I loved in my childhood and still keep.

“You can keep this near you today, so when you miss me, you can look at it and think of me.”

We got his gray hoodie jacket on with the hood up to protect against the rain we are having this morning. He asked me to take his picture. I thought it was to commemorate his being five and a HALF but after I took it, he instructed me to print it out, cut out the face, and paste it on my Bunny’s face, so I can remember him more easily.

As if I could ever forget that face.

Pictures of Haircuts, Finally

All right, Mom, I will stop torturing you with days of "before" and "during" pictures! The wait is over.

I survived. And in the end, the haircuts make the twins look like what a lot of folks would describe as a couple kids who need a haircut. But, hey, I like their hair long, and I am their Mama.

So there, people!

.

After all this buildup I realized that pretty much every picture of the kids I have, post-haircut are blurry images, mostly of Luka. Luka's hair, the more I look at it, probably does need a trim. I kind of like how he looks in these pictures, but his hair was really dirty (they didn't wash it when they cut it) so I think it laid more nicely. Now that it is clean, it is a lot fluffier and shaggier. So I might trim it up a bit, if I build up the nerve.

Ethan's hair looks fine, but it is kind of sad. In the photo I showed to describe what I wanted, the boy has curls in his short hair. Sadly, Ethan's ringlets were mostly in the bottom of his wee mullet, and they are all gone. He has some serious waves, more so than what shows in this photo of him, but its still kind of sad.

But I am fine.

I know it will grow, and get cut, and grow and get cut. It's just a little hard because its another step toward being big-boys and loosing my last babies to the march of time.

Haircuts, Finally (Part Deux)

I know.

I am dragging this haircut out like its some epic drama, but its the only thing that I have photos of that I can blog about right now. And frankly, I have so many cute photos that I have to spread it out so I can post all of them. I mean, look at this. Poor, tortured guy.


I found this cute little place in La Jolla that is a salon just for children called Little Locks. The woman who cut their hair was named (I think) Larita, and I HIGHLY recommend her if you are in the area because she did exactly what I asked her to do.

Which was basically, "leave it long".


I told them that there were some photos online that I would like to have their hair cut to look like, and the folks there were happy to let me bring up the web pages. Here are the links for what I showed them for Ethan and for Luka.

Larita took such a quick look at both pictures I was worried she wouldn't really do what I asked, but she was spot on. She even asked if I wanted to cut a bit more from Luka because it was still pretty long on the sides (like the picture) but I hemmed and hawed and finally told her no. I figured I could cut it more if I needed to, myself. (And a couple days later, it looks like I might just do that).


This place has it all figured out. The kids sit in little cars or airplanes while getting their hair cut, they have cartoons to watch, and you literally have to walk through a toy store to get to the salon! They seem to be okay with the kids playing with the toys while waiting, and there are even live bunnies to look at in cages that are housed at toddler level.


Look at Luka.

What a little trooper he was. Of course, he had his lovey, "Lambie" clutched tight in his lap. I think the cuts would have gone better if the kids hadn't gotten spritzed with water bottles before the cut. But it was necessary to get those crazy locks tamed.

So, yeah, both kids cried. Both kids survived. Both kids still look cute.

Here is evidence of the carnage:


The "After" pics will be in the next post.

Sorry, Mom. Nyah, Nyah!

Lord, you'd think this story was a Penny Dreadful the way it goes on and on!