Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Bronchitis and the death of my favorite Christmas Movie.

We are home sick for the second day this week.  Poor little G-Man has bronchitis and E-Dude has the cough as well.  Thankfully they are acting like themselves, or Mommy would be insane right now. Breathing issues and little ones give me massive panic attacks, especially since E-Dude and his hospital visit earlier this year.

Despite my concern with every cough or congested and squeaky breath, here we are.  And lately, the boys have discovered the movie, A Christmas Story.  This happens to be one of my favorite holiday movies and a yearly Christmas Eve tradition.  Initially, I was thrilled to see the boys enjoy the movie in silence and awe without moving.

Now, upon our 10th viewing in 5 or 6 days, I am concerned.  Sure, I still laugh at Randy eating like a piggy, and the infamous battle of the lamp, but I can feel the joy ebbing.  I am certain this is revenge for having forced my mother to watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory a million times when I was a kid.

Help!

Monday, December 3, 2012

When life takes over!

So sorry I have been absent, my bloggy friends.  Work has been particularly brutal this year, combined with training for a marathon= one tired mommy!

Since the boys are now 3,  we feel it is important to teach as much about Jesus as possible-since it is so easy for Him to get lost in the glare of holiday lights and Christmas music.  We are starting Advent with colds and fevers, but by golly, here we go!

We do have an Elf on The Shelf (I know, I know), but the boys have a blast finding our elf, "Truck Trash." (Garbage day + Elf arrival day = trashy name, lol).  At some point, the Elf is going to bring them an ornament of Santa kneeling before the Nativity to remind the boys that even Santa kneels before God (borrowed this idea from my awesome friend!).  We are also reading scripture and talking about Jesus' birthday.

They have been running around the house yelling "Happy Birthday, Jesus!"

Because that is what it is about!

Monday, October 1, 2012

Game Postponed but fun had by all

The first Family Baseball Game
Pouring Down Rain
 
almost 5 hours of sitting around a table waiting for word
Boys did great!


Thursday, August 23, 2012

Genetically Identical- but Their Own People

It always amazes me to watch the boys develop their own unique personalities.  They came from the same exact genetic makeup, but are completely different people. 

G-Man takes risks.  He is bold and a bit fearless.  E-Dude is MUCH more cautious.  You can almost see him evaluating his options and make a decision. 

I love watching them in new situations to see what they will do.  One of their little friends had a party at a local 'water park.' There were water slides, a lazy river, and a kid area designed for smaller little ones.  E-Dude initially clung to me like a spider monkey, and wouldn't get down until he saw his brother splashing in the water.  E-Dude found a rope ladder and began climbing up a structure that housed 2 slides and some splashing areas. 

Once up there, G-Man took charge and shot down the smaller of the two slides, with E-Dude right behind.  Then came the challenge.  A bigger slide with a turn and rushing water.  E-Dude went down fist and came out of the half tube in tears.  G-Man came down with giant laughs and rushed to do it again.

Over and over they would both run up and G-Man would slide down, leaving E-Dude to happily splash about.  G-Man got even more brave and practiced his kicking and scooping trying to swim.  E-Dude enjoyed practicing his kicks, but spent quite a bit of time snuggled up with mom or dad.

video
How I love watching them become the people God has created them to be. 

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Imagination

The boys have gotten so funny as of late.  They are really taking advantage of their imaginations and running with it.  Most of it has to do with cardboard boxes.

Seriously.  Tons of toys all over this house, and we are deeply involved with cardboard boxes.  The box which once cased a tower fan became a vacuum cleaner or a slide depending on which munchkin was in control of the cardboard at the time.  It only lasted a few days before it was ripped to pieces.

Then my very thoughtful in-laws bought the boys a very cool cardboard castle toy. It is about 4 feet tall and decorated like a tower with a knight on the outside and cut-outs for doors and windows.  For days the boys have run in and out of that thing and had a blast. 

As expected, the inevitable occurred.  The Tasmanian Devil's broke the box.  I did some initial repairs with duct tape, but that was no match for the two year olds.  Ultimately, it toppled, as towers do, to one side.  Then the real fun began.  For a day or so it was a 'fire truck.'  The boys crawled into it pretending to drive.  E-Dude grabbed the circular top off of his toy drum to use as a steering wheel, and they would both make driving noises.

Then it collapsed completely, ending up in a flat pile on the carpet.  Where it has become a pool.  Between a Fresh Beats episode and Olympic Diving, the boys have been obsessed with jumping into their 'pool' and making a "big splash!"

Boxes.

I can't believe it.

All these fancy toys and gadgets we feel we just need to have and my boys are having the most wonderful time with cardboard boxes.

How much money would I have saved if I had known ?

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Long Day and my BIG Boy!

Back in March, E-Dude got sick and had several atypical febrile seizures.  The neurologist at the time recommended we bring him in to get an EEG with the possibility of an MRI to rule out potential underlying causes to the seizures.  Febrile seizures are not uncommon by themselves, but multiple seizures in a short period, and the fact that they were not what one would typically consider a seizure is uncommon.

After weeks months of going back and forth with Children's about the 'orders' for his EEG we finally got him in today. First off, I had to 'sleep deprive' him so he would nap.  That translated to waking him up at 5:30 and keeping him awake.  It was good snuggling time, so I cant really complain.

It was strange to drop G-Man off at daycare without his brother, even stranger to only have my E-Dude in the car.  He and I talked the whole way to the hospital.  I figured if I prepared him for what was going on he might be more relaxed about it. I told him we were going to the hospital to see the doctor.  The doctor was going to put stickers on his head that would talk to his brain. And it was called an EEG.  I had him repeat EEG and yes, we also said the technical term. :)

He was a bit apprehensive of the vastness of the hospital, but mommy and daddy snuggles kept that under control.  The technician guided us through the steps he would take and E-Dude sat perfectly still while he got his head markered and stickered.  He got a little scared after his head was wrapped, but that was right about the time for mom to crawl into bed with him and hope he would take a nap so his brain could be properly mapped. 

Amazingly, he conked out quickly and didn't get upset until we were finished with the test.  The combination of grogginess and uncertainty got to him and he clung to my neck.  I remarked to my husband that I knew what E-Dude's stuffed bear must feel like with the little death grip holding on tightly.

We won't get results for a week, but I am so proud of my little guy.  Amazed at his resilience and strength.  I am glad we got him in for testing and hope that it is smooth sailing on this front.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

A Milestone

3 years ago today my husband and I were faced with the terrifying awareness that I either undergo a surgery in Cincinnati to correct TTTS (twin to twin transfusion) in our boys or face the ultimate likelihood that we would lose them both.  For my poor husband that is terrified of hospitals, the thought of his wife and unborn children undergoing any kind of surgery was eating at him.  For me, I could not imagine doing everything I could to give our boys a chance to be born living into this world.  For my sweet mother, who came to support all of us, I know how worried she was, yet she was the ultimate pillar of strength and support for us both.

3 years ago 2 fabulous and caring doctors and many nurses and support staff gave my boys a chance.  They severed 6 shared veins in their placenta and took almost 2 liters of fluid out of our baby a's sac.  If both boys adjusted to the change, we had a chance of bringing them both home.  The odds were good for that, but you never know.  Frankly, I wasn't counting on the odds since I had beaten the odds by becoming pregnant with identical twins AND getting TTTS. 

TTTS is real, it is fast, it is devastating.  While advances are being made to help, there are still many doctors that don't know enough about it to be the advocates my own doctors were for me.  Today I am thankful for the doctors that pioneered the laser surgery, those that tweaked treatment to give our unborn babies a better chance.  I am filled with gratitude towards the Cincinnati Children's Fetal Care Center.  To Dr. Jaekle and Dr. Crumblehome (whom my husband and I dubbed Crumbledore)(don't hate...embrace the geeky Harry Potter reference).  To the Radisson Cincinnati and their amazing staff who showed utmost compassion, kindness, and customer service to us.  To Mary with the TTTS Foundation.  To my high risk doctor and my MFM doctor.  Of course, to all of my family, friends, and strangers for support.  Mostly to God, who in our struggle taught me to trust and rely in Him, and He carried us all throughout.

Friday, June 22, 2012

Does this Make me a Bad Parent?

So....the boys are little parrots as of late, which can be both funny and perilous. The other day my husband and I decided to play a little bit with the boys, much to our own amusement.

"Can you say I'm Not A Crook?" (complete with hand signals)

Both boys make a decent attempt, with G-Man making the most convincing hand gestures.

"Aye Aye Captain"

"That's No Moon, its a space station" (don't hate, I am a Star Wars Geek to the core)

and my personal favorite "Live Long and Prosper" (with Vulcan hand signal, of course)

G-Man's response was priceless..."garble garble PROSPER!" with his little hands trying to figure out how to move like Daddy's. 

Perhaps it is bad parenting to find some amusement in the imitating stage.  It sure beats the things they will surely repeat somewhere down the road.  YIKES!!!

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Puddles and Puddles oh my!

So....the whole anatomical awareness has been pretty funny.

Unfortunately it has expanded.  I "knew" I was going to pay for this.

The other day, the dudes found pride in being able to pull down their own pants without my assistance.  Be it for bath time, bed time, diaper change time, or practice potty time, they like to do it by themselves.  Cool.  I am all for independence.

I enjoy the gleeful shrieks of  "I DID IT!" reverberating around the house (because they have zero clue of an inside voice).  I love seeing the pride in their face, the sense of accomplishment they brandish so well.

The other morning I heard them chattering and went to get them up out of bed.  Both boys were standing in their respective cribs sans pants and diapers.  I was certainly not prepared to see my little men naked from the waist down and asked them, "Where are your diapers?"

I got a garbled response, "gibberish gibberish on the floor, gibberish, it's yucky!"
Ok.  If they think wet morning diapers are yucky, maybe we are ready for potty training.  I was cool with that.  Of course, then I was greeted by a loud and rousing shriek of "It's MY penis, my Penis!" from both boys.  Fantastic. We went on with our day and I thought nothing of it.

When I went in to get them from nap time, it happened.  Two naked little butts up in the air, diapers on the floor, and a giant swamp of urine in the cribs.  And they didn't even wake from the wetness.  Gross.Both boys obviously got baths while mattress protectors and sheets went in the laundry.  Little did I know bed time would bring a similar incident.

Not exactly sure how to keep the diapers on, because I can't handle all of this laundry?  They sell decorative duct tape, right?

Friday, June 1, 2012

Boy parts. Let's face it.

The last 2 weeks of high school are always a whirlwind, and I am sad that I didn't have tons of extra time to spend on my outlet of writing this blog.  But, it is summer now and I am super excited to hang out with the dudes and play around our city.

I have heard people call boy parts and girl parts all sorts of things.  Pee pee, wee wee, front butt (my personal favorite), et cetera.  From a slightly nerdy and left brained perspective, I just use the actual name of the part.  I figure our kids don't get exposed to real or scientific terms as much as they should.  Science vocabulary is one of the most difficult things for my students to grasp because it is so alien to them.  I call rain precipitation (and rain) explain the finer points of photosynthesis while watering green plants and so on.

Obviously I wondered if this was going to backfire on me.  

For the record, I am going to type the actual word in my post, so if it weirds you out to see it in print, please go no further.  

Naturally when the boys started pulling on their boy parts and calling it their belly I corrected them.  "No baby, that is your penis."  I have said that to them a few times here and there and don't make any kind of fuss over it.

The other night during bath time G-Man looked down, pointed and said "That's my penis!"  (I should win an Academy Award for keeping a straight face, on the inside I was nearly peeing my pants in laughter).  "That IS your penis, it is where the pee comes out."

And that was it.

I thought.

Today's bath brought more male apparatus awareness.  "That's my penis. It's yucky." 

"It isn't yucky honey, it is part of your body." (again with a straight face.)

"My Penis"  Points to brother "E-Dude's penis."

Great.  Not only are we making language strides and recognizing ownership of items, we are doing so via anatomy.

Then the bigger realization.  They really ARE little sponges.  Wonder what is going to come out of their mouths next...


Friday, May 18, 2012

Being Mom

A few weeks ago I was lamenting the fact that my husband would be in France for Mother's Day.  Compounded by the fact that he had been out of town on Easter, I was not quiet about my displeasure of his impending work trip.

Mother's Day came and went simply.  It was a lovely day at church, and our Church Family happily well wished all of the Mother's.  The boys came home with adorable hand print crafts and their smart Daddy thought to leave out the card they 'bought' for me.

As if they knew, the boys kindly napped for 3 hours, thus giving me a lovely little nap on a Sunday.  When they awoke, they were content to cuddle up with me on the couch and watch Yo Gabba Gabba.  Somewhere in the intoxicating haze of snuggling with my babies I realized it.

I had let the notion of what "Mother's Day" should be escape me.  I hate card created holidays (ie Valentine's Day) and this is one of them.  Of course we should honor parents, of course they deserve a Day that is in their honor.  But there is a problem with a holiday that is unwittingly designed to make people feel lousy: for not being able to be mothers, or having lost their mother, or having not so pleasant memories of their mother.

It isn't about flowers, candy, cards, or breakfast in bed.  It isn't about 'getting a break.' It is about getting the opportunity to raise a tiny human into adulthood.  It is about praising success, kissing away tears, hugs, laughter, messes, time outs, joys and heartaches.

Wrapped tight in the embrace of my little dudes, I realized I already had the best Mother's Day gift.  I got to BE a mom for Mother's Day. 

It was awesome.

Friday, May 11, 2012

The World According to G-Man

This child is way too smart for his own good.  Apparently at daycare, he has taken to repeating anything any of the other children say.  One little girl looked at him and said "Will you STOP that?"  He looked right back at her, puffed up and repeated verbatim, "Will you STOP that?"

Oh my.

He is loving all of the new words he is learning, and gets so tickled when he is understood.

Gems from this last week:

Family dinner at the table and DH burped.  G-Man looked at him in horror and said "Daddy!  Say Excuse me!"

Running outside last weekend, "Mommy, I need a ice-pop."

This morning when I dropped the boys off, they sat on the couch to watch Mickey Mouse.  G-Man patted the couch next to him and said "Mommy, sit me!"

I have a feeling there will more entertainment to come!

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Couch Please!

Oh my goodness these boys are too adorable.  Even when they are driving me absolutely insane having a tough day, they are pretty stinking cute.  And sometimes I have those incredible moments of clarity when I realize, these cute little things will go by so quickly.

And I want to hang on as much as I can.

The dishes were in the sink, a tell-tale sign that the dishwasher needed to be unloaded.  Laundry was piling up and dinner needed to be made.  The boys were demanding their daily fix of Yo Gabba Gabba so I turned it on and figured it would give me a few minutes to get some things done around the house.

Small fingers pulled on my pants and I looked into my son's eyes.  "Need Couch Please."  warbled my sweet little E-Dude.  It doesn't simply mean he wanted to sit on the couch, because he is perfectly capable of climbing on it...and over it..around it...you get the idea.  In E-Dude speak it meant "Mom, I want to snuggle with you on the couch and watch my show."

Seriously, how could I refuse that?   I reached down and scooped him into my arms and plopped us both on the couch.  He snuggled into my side, sighed and started to watch his show.  G-Man, not to be left out, crawled up and settled on my other side.

The dishes and dinner had to wait.  Before too long these precious moments slip away.  I don't care if the house is in disarray if the alternative means I miss little moments like this.  Perfect moments of contentment.

Just don't stop by unannounced ;)

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Multiples and More :)

Not too long ago, I found a fantastic community for moms of multiples and have been keeping up with the blog and community ever since.   Check out Multiples and More where I am fortunate enough to be the featured blogger :)

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Bite, Bite, Bite?

Oh dear.

I keep my phone on vibrate during the school day, just in case the boys get sick or there is an issue.  So naturally, any buzzing in my pocket causes me to panic.  I pull out my phone with dread, anticipating fevers and vomit.

"G-Man bit 'W" when they were playing with the cars, just wanted to let you know." Followed up by a picture of poor little "W's" arm. The skin was not broken, thankfully, but there was a FULL set of teeth marks on this little boys arm.  As in...a dentist could not get a better set of dental records.

The logical side of my brain told me that it was perfectly natural for 2.5 year olds to bit on occasion.  The teacher and mom side of the brain was absolutely mortified.  I apologized profusely to both our provider and W.'s mom.  Both of whom said it was no big deal. 

Oh goodness my child is the kid who bites.

Going into full teacher mode, I tried to find out what preceded the bite.  In this case, both boys were playing cars and W ran his arm and car in front of G-man (in his 'personal space).  G-Man responded by leaning over and biting.

We have of course discussed that Jesus Loves Everyone and we do not show love by biting, even if we are upset.  We have watched the "Don't Bite Your Friends" song via Yo Gabba Gabba.  I am working on finding a way for for G-Man to find another way to express his frustration, but, lets be real...he is 2.5.

To follow up, just the other morning the boys were very tired because Mommy get them up too late after bible study.  So they were just a mess at school, and what did little E-dude do?  You guessed it...bit someone 3 different times. 

That was on me. 

Feel free to give me the mother of the year award at any time! :)

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Songs and Morning Giggles

We have a tendency to take a song and change its lyrics to suit our particular situation.  When the boys were babies, we made up a special song for G-Man and one for E-Dude.  G-Man's song is to the tune of a song I remember from a kid's album called "Casey Jones".  In our case, it is G-Man B. :)

For E-Dude we went a little more cheesy mainstream.  Sung to the tune of "My Sharona"

Oh my little handsome one, handsome one
When you gonna give me some time E-Dude?
Oh you make your Mommy run, Mommy Run
Gettin sippies all of the time E-Dude
Never gonna stop making poop
Such a dirty boy
always puttin poop in the bottom
of your diaper now

My, my my-i-i-i Wooooo!
Ma ma ma ma E-Dude!

E-Dude loves his song, and gets the biggest smile on his face whenever we sing it.  For the last few months he has mimicked the last line (the ma ma ma's).  Occasionally we change the last line to include G-Man in the song, since he loves it too.

This morning had a rough start, with both boys being grumpy and weepy as we went through diaper changes and getting dressed.  E-Dude rocked on his little chair and cried as he would have preferred to cuddle and relax instead of rushing to daycare.

I sang his song to him and was rewarded with his perfect joyous grin.  Immediately after I finished the last line, E-Dude picked it up and sang "ma ma ma ma my MOMMY!"

Cue the melted heart.

And he continued "ma ma ma ma my Maxie (one of the dogs) and ma ma ma ma my Tinker (other dog)"

G-Man wouldn't be outdone and responded with "Ma ma ma ma my G-Man!"

I love watching them make these learning connections.  Love how excited they get over a song their once overtired mother made up for no particular reason.

LOVE these dudes!

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Toddler Talk Tuesday

Amusing moments in the vocabulary development in the TwinSane Asylum.

At the dry cleaners.  Worker is putting the clean clothes into the car and sees the boys.  He says "Hey Guys.  What's Up?"

E-Dude Answers:  "The Lights"

Bring Your Stuffed Animal Day at Daycare.  E-Dude has his stuffed bear.  Our provider's husband asks "What's his Name?"   E-Dude looks at him for a second and says "Bear"  (all the while giving the poor man a look like E-Dude thought he was an idiot-DUH!  What did you think his name was? lol)

More on the Pirate Booty Front.

E-Dude grabs the Pirate Booty from G-Man who Howls "MY BOOBY!"

At Grandma's House.  G-Man runs for the back door to look for the dogs.  Points at the door and says "Doggy goes poops."

Yes, I laugh hysterically on a daily basis.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Dear Fresh Beat Band...yes, I hate you!

It is no secret that TV made for preschoolers is painful for watchful adults.  I watched the first few episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba in rapt horror as I tried to figure out HOW and WHY someone had come up with it.  Of course, my answer sat inside the tiny little brains enthralled with the giant walking puppets singing about parties in their tummies.

Moving forward a few months, and we now have 30 or so episodes recorded to the DVR.  Because "Gabba" had to be on right when we got home for the day, or when we woke up, or because it was Tuesday.  You understand.  Yes, Gabba babysat my kids so I could get dinner started, it happens.  Naturally after months of tireless Gabba viewings, I am beyond burnt out on their adventures.

Many times I have tried in desperation to get the boys to enjoy something..anything else.  For a brief and shining moment, I thought we had a winner in Blue's Clues, the show with the creepy guy and his squeaky blue dog always looking for a blue paw print.  For a handful of glorious episodes, the boys would shout "Blue, Blue!"  But it wasn't going to last.

The worst part?  They didn't go back to Gabba.  No.  Instead they have found excessive joy in the Fresh Beat Band.  If you have not had the pleasure of watching, please allow me to inform.  A quartet of four 20-something year olds live in dorms and attend 'music school.' Not unlike Three's Company, something always goes awry and music and hilarity ensue.

Like all preschool tv, it is exaggerated and over the top acting.  But, the stupid tunes are catchy and the boys love dancing around to them.  That is, when they are not sitting silently for 2 full episodes and taking it all in.  When was the last time a 2.5 year old sat still for that length of time?  Never.  Maybe in a parallel universe.

I can't exactly peg why, but I hate this show with every ounce of my being.  Every. Single. Ounce.  Maybe it is the 20+ year old adults acting like elementary school students, maybe it is the lame and cheesy story lines or the peppy attitudes?  Maybe it is the multitude of casting changes that throw me off.  I couldn't say (but if you DO watch, the new Marina gets on my every last nerve.  At least the old one seemed genuine.)

I never thought I would miss Yo Gabba Gabba, but even the tedious repetition of the episodes I have seen dozens of times is not as bothersome to me as the Fresh Beats.

As if they have secretly found delight in making me batty, my boys now come home and ask for "Fesh Beats."  Awesome.  And, because they know I will,  pull on my hands so I will stand up, sing the songs, and dance around the living room with them.  I will pick them up and spin them around, and we will laugh ourselves silly as we celebrate being home together. 

And that part I love.  Because time with E-Dude and G-Man is precious.  Because silly songs and dances are fleeting.  Because tomorrow it won't be overgrown 'kids' with problems no bigger than what song to sing that day. 

And then I will probably hate the Fresh Beats even more...

Thursday, March 22, 2012

You won't Believe This

I honestly realize that many of my posts in the last MONTH have reflected the quiet desperation of a woman trying not to cry most of the time.  We have really been dog-piled with illness and injury around the asylum as of late.  Doesn't leave much time for snarky, biting wit.

To say I am exhausted doesn't begin to explain it.  My fellow moms certainly know the feeling.  Zero rest or sleep for mom coupled with the stress of wondering when the next thing will occur really wears you down. I found myself torn between running to work in the morning and not wanting to leave my precious boys for another second.

With this latest round of issues, I didn't even attempt to consider we may just be done with all of the crap.  I haven't had the time, and frankly, getting sleep took precedence.  Wouldn't you know, DH begins coughing and hacking and feels generally miserable.  His diagnosis at the doctor?  A cold aggravated by...wait for it....strep throat.

Seriously?

I am completely dumbfounded.  It was always my assumption that people generally didn't get strep after their twenties.  Now, my newly 40 year old husband has the bacterial plague that I used to catch if someone else in the county had it. 

That was it.  The straw.  The moment where I walked over the proverbial line in the sand.  Instead of falling down into stressed out despair, I threw my hands up and laughed at the ridiculousness of it.  I mean, really.  Let's look at our tally for February/March.

Me: Sprained ankle
Boys:  busted open head, fever seizure, double ear infection, double 4 day long fevers-multiple seizures and hospital stay
DH- Strep Throat

On the bright side?  In less than 4 months, we have met the deductible on our High Deductible Insurance plan.  If that doesn't scream FANTASTIC, I don't know what will.

You can't see me, but I am giving the bird to illness and injury in general!

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Dear G-Man

Dear G-Man,

You were sick last week as well.  Your fever stayed somewhere between 101 and 102 without round the clock medicine and frequent baths.  Despite that, you were happy, sweet, and as playful as always.  With the exception of your 'colors', you willingly shared with your brother and enjoyed the non stop playing of your favorite TV show.

We slept on the living room couch at night, because you were having trouble sleeping and Mommy had to give you and Brother medicine every few hours.  That is no biggie for us, because you and I have slept many a night out there together.  One night, I place you and brother on opposite sides of the couch and ran to the bathroom. 

When I returned, brother had crawled across the couch , snuggled up next to you, and placed his sleeping head on your chest. Not wanting the weight of his head to disrupt your breathing, I moved him to your side, so that you were next to one another.  As if in response, you rolled over and put your tiny arm over your brother in a protective embrace.  It was a moment that reminded me of the truly special bond only twins get to share.  Even sound asleep, you were aware of his presence.

Then Friday came, and brother was clingy.  He didn't feel well at all, and as a result, you didn't get the same amount of snuggles and cuddles to which you are accustomed.  Somehow, you were aware that E-Dude felt poorly, and you were content to help Mommy with anything she could think to ask you.

You didn't get scared when brother had his seizure, because Mommy tried to stay calm for both of you.  The only time you were disturbed is when you were alone in your room after we left for the doctor.  Daddy brought you out to the living room so you had company. 

When we had to go to the hospital, you were beginning to run another fever (5 days in a row) and looked simply exhausted.  Yet you didn't utter a single cry of protest.  You looked around with exhausted curiosity and patiently waited while Daddy gave you medicine to help you feel better.  You enjoyed looking around the administration area, and quickly fell asleep on Daddy's lap.

When your "Pop" came to keep you company, you were nothing but smiles.  He was your captive audience and you told him stories in G-Man-ese.  Not long after, you and Daddy went to stay with Pop and Grandma, where you got to terrorize the dogs, swing on the yard swing, and point out the fish in the pond.  Not to mention all the cuddles you could handle from your loving grandparents.  They and Daddy wanted you to relax and enjoy yourself as much as possible, so that you wouldn't worry about E-Dude.

Mommy missed you terribly that night and throughout the next day.  But I am awed by your kindness, your intuitive nature, and your ability to easily adapt.  You are intelligent, nurturing, funny, considerate, and eager to please.  I hope you are always able to 'go with the flow' without much effort.  It is a rare gift, and I see it in you every day. 

I watch how thoughtful you are.  You don't get a snack without reaching up a hand for the same for your brother.  You bring him his cup if he drops it.  You close doors that shouldn't be opened.  Somehow, you 'know' what people need and you take care of it.

You are growing into an incredible little boy, and I hope I am able to be the Mommy you deserve.

Love you!

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Dear E-Dude

Dear E-Dude,

I prematurely celebrated the end of another round of illness/drama in our family this weekend.  Not terribly long after I finished my last post, you started having a strange spasm.  Then a few hours later, you had another one, and I realized it looked quite a bit like a seizure.  Except you were awake, alert, and screaming your sweet little head off.

And your fever spiked back up.  And your breathing was fast and shallow.  So, I packed you up and ran you over to the small ER behind our neighborhood (they know us well by now).  I didn't explain the seizures well, because they were kind of like a muscle spasm, it was as if they hurt you.  The doctor wasn't as concerned about that as he was your breathing.

So you got two shots in the leg and a breathing treatment.  And a date with the doctor the next morning, because he was afraid you might need to be admitted to the hospital .  Overnight you had 2 more screaming seizures, and your breathing didn't improve.  As I prepared to bring you to the doctor you had another seizure, and I knew we couldn't avoid the hospital.

Our doctor was a fantastic advocate for you and I.  He got in touch with the pediatric neurosurgeon at Children's Hospital who wanted you in the hospital immediately.  She wanted you transported by ambulance and the doctor told her that you were stable and I was perfectly capable of getting you there safely.  And he was right.  I called daddy and told him to pack a bag and get G-Man ready to go.

G-Man was still running a fever, so he and daddy couldn't come up with us at first.  All of your initial curiosity was destroyed when the nurses put in the started for IV.  Then they bribed you with a truck and crayons and we were good to go.  You had another seizure while the pediatrician was there, and I was grateful that if it had to happen, at least she got to see it.  She felt certain it was a febrile seizure, but since you had more than 1 (try 8) in a 24 hour period, they were considered complex.

They prescribed you seizure medication.  You were exhausted, but intent on finishing your chicken nuggets.  The medicine didn't agree with you, because you were easily agitated and threw fits I have only read about.  You were not my sweet little dude.  And how could you be?  You were sick, exhausted, and scared, and people kept prodding at you.

Daddy and G_Man left to stay with Grandma and Pop, so Mommy knew they were okay, and she could concentrate on you.  As the seizure medicine wore off, you became more like yourself.  We enjoyed looking out the tenth floor window and the cars whizzing by on the highway, and the birds flying high in the sky.

Overnight you started to have a hard time breathing.  The nurses had to suction out mucous and put you on oxygen.  You were not thrilled, but within a few minutes, your little body stopped fighting so hard to breathe and you could sleep comfortably.

You never get sleep in a hospital, as was evident by the 8am wake-up call from the lab technician.  She woke you from sound sleep by taking blood out of your arm.  It took every ounce of what little energy Mommy had not to blow a gasket and yell at the woman who had destroyed the most rest you had in nights.  At some point you pulled the IV start from your arm, and the nasal cannula irritated you.  

You met the neurologist who said we would need to take you in for an MRI and EEG in a few weeks to make sure there is no underlying cause for your seizures.  You also met the attending neurologist whose name I don't remember, but it sounded like yarmulke.  Even cranky and tired you managed to charm all of the nurses and doctors, who thought you were the sweetest little boy.

Honey, mommy is so very proud of you.  You are a fighter, you are strong, you are resilient.  You knew to cry right  before the seizures and that Mommy would be right there.  You clung to her closely, knowing she would never leave your side.  You managed to smile, laugh, and flirt with the cute nurses, just like the charmer you are.  You bravely handled all of the stress and scariness of the hospital and made it through with smiles.

I am amazed by you.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Spring Break Fail and Fevers


Spring Break Started so well.  My Mom and Step-Dad came in to visit from out of state and we began by celebrating the 40th birthday of my husband.  The boys were thrilled with all of the extra attention and learned very quickly to run and hug grandma!

Monday brought big boy haircuts, which has been a task. G-Man usually cries giant crocodile tears with abandon, leaving me to feel all the pitied looks from other parents.  Yes, I have "THAT" child.  With my mom in tow, both boys crawled into their car shaped seats and had a grand old time.  G-Man watched his stylist warily, but smiled and watched "Toy Story" while she worked.

Then they brought out the magic balloons.  These simple, purple pieces of plastic/rubber occupied both boys for a good half hour.  Awesome!  

You remember the massive drama cloud of issues we have had with the boys the last few weeks. So naturally, when G-Man woke up at 3 in the morning with a 100.4 degree fever, I was exceptionally bummed.  Both boys ran low grade fevers the last day my parents were in town.  Made for a low key day, but the boys were in good spirits.  

Fast Forward to that evening. E-Dude got up to 103.2 and G-Man to 101.7.  Knowing they are prone to seizures, I threw E-Dude into a bath.  The poor thing wasn't even awake yet and cried the most pitiful sounds I have ever heard.  Once his fever came down, I began a long night of round the clock medicine.

3 days later and they are still feverish with a flu-like virus (doctor's diagnosis).  Thankfully, they are acting like themselves, barring the coughing and fevers.  But it has been a bummer of a spring break.

Still, I am SO thankful:
  • that I was home on spring break and didn't have to get penalized for taking time off work
  • that being home with sick munchkins is still better than a good week at work
  • for air conditioning companies with true integrity
  • for super snuggles with my babies
  • for pediatricians that magically make my boys giggle and laugh
  • for seeing my mom-I miss her terribly!
  • for finally getting in a post this week!
  • finding joy and blessings in the hardship
Check out some pictures and let me know what YOU are thankful for this week


Yay!  We have balloons!
E-Dude getting his balloon reward
Ahhh, the joys of a purple balloon

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Thankful Thursday

I liked listing things I was thankful for last week, so have decided to repeat the activity.  Showing gratitude really makes you realize how blessed you truly are.

I am thankful for:

E-Dude grabbing my hand so I will go with him wherever he goes
G-Man snuggles in the middle of the night
nighttime giggles
students who playfully banter when it is appropriate ;)
1 more day until Spring Break
The moment when the neon spring green appears on the trees
and the next, when everything is awash in spring beauty
My blooming white iris'
Counting Down to the Hunger Games
Students excited to READ the Hunger Games
Kisses from my husband
laughter through tears
Knowing I will see my mom in a few days

and so much more!
How about you?

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Becoming the best "You" you can be

As a teacher, I have dealt with my share of 'difficult' parents, as well as heard the horror stories from other teachers.  Helicopter parents, those living through their kids, those who want to be their child's friend instead of parent, those who are certain their child would never do anything wrong, etc.

I have also been fortunate to know many wonderful, supportive parents who are willing to stand up and help their child be the best he or she can possibly be.

Working with kids with disabilities really puts this into perspective.  Today I had the pleasure of proctoring one of the mandatory state exams-which means 3 hours of sitting in a room while students work on a test.  Today's group was small, and the students have some fairly significant impairments to their learning.

It was while reading the obligatory script that I got truly angry for these students.  Here, my state is demanding they take a numerical grade level test, when their academic achievement is far below that. (For example, they are in 10th grade, but functioning at about 3rd cognitively).  While the directions are basic, I found I had to add extra steps simply so the students could understand the directions.  (Like, after you finish the question, TURN the page and read the next passage-if I hadn't included the word 'turn' a few of them would not have known to do so).

It made me so angry that I sobbed in the bathroom on my break.  Why are these kids being set up for failure?  Why are they being used as another reason to insult education?  Why does my local government care more about whether they can identify the theme of a story than if they can function outside of high school as an adult?

These students are incredible, amazing, loving, caring people.  I listened with joy after the test as they chattered away about the things they loved, and the things they were learning in their classes.  In their voices I heard childlike innocence and faith. They reach out wholeheartedly and with love in every single thing they do. They make me want to fight for them, to fight for the chances they absolutely deserve. To remind the government that individuals are more than stupid numbers and ratings. 

 And I realized that this is a point God is trying to make with all of us.  He doesn't expect us to be 'perfect' by society standards, He knows we have many faults.  He expects us to be the best "us" we can be.  He fights for us daily, even if we don't realize it. And He works tirelessly to help us realize our own worth in Him.


Who is God hoping you will fight for today?

Linking up with : http://www.goodmorninggirls.org

Monday, March 5, 2012

Simple Joys

What do you do on a beautiful 74 degree day in March?

You stop by the dollar store, pick up some wiffle ball bats and trays and wands for bubbles.  Put said toys in the backyard, fill the trays with bubble juice, and let the munchkins go nuts.

I lost count of how many times G-Man shouted the word bubbles, to indicate everything from "Mom, I require more bubble juice." to "Look at all these bubbles!"  to "I am supposed to have all of the bubble juice in my hair, correct?"

Obviously I am going to be buying gallons of bubbles this summer, but it is hard to beat an activity which keeps toddlers occupied for at least 30 minutes.  He did not tire of playing with the bubble wand at all.  How many things can we say that about?

E-Dude loved the bubbles too, but was much more occupied watching the mockingbird sit on the rooftop behind us.  He kept shouting "See bird?  See bird?"  When I told him that was a mockingbird, he attempted to repeat me "Mah-in-bird!" 

So cute.

He talked to that bird on and off throughout the afternoon.  At one point, he started to yell the word bird with even more excitement, causing me to look up from the bubble juice stream accumulating in the yard.  Would you believe the mockingbird flew down to sit on our fence?  Two noisy toddlers in the yard and that crazy bird swooped down to check out the little friend he had been chatting with all afternoon.

I was dumbfounded and delighted.  G-Man covered in bubbles, E-Dude skipping through the yard with pure joy on his face.

Perfection in a day!

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Thankful Thursday

Lately I feel as if I just need to be able to stop and breathe.

After the head gash and fever seizure, last weekend E-Dude ran a high fever and ended up with a double ear infection.  After a trying week at work and just wanting to relax with my family, my poor little man was miserable-and so was everyone in the house.

Thankfully, he is doing much better, and everyone is (knock on wood) in good health.  So today, I just want to take a second and be thankful.

-For 80 degree days on March 1
-For having a class studying the environment that allows us to go outside.
-For antibiotics that clear up ear infections
-My little scientist E-Dude observing his world
-Rough and Tumble G-Man and his silliness
-E-Dude spontaneously singing "How Great is our God" this morning during wake up time
-Toddler kisses
-A husband who is grateful and gracious
-students who make me laugh and remind me why I teach
-God and the many blessings He has given
-Yo Gabba Gabba during cooking time
-singing and dancing with the munchkins in the house
-bubbles
-being right where I am, right at this moment in time.

What are you thankful for?

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Bubbles and Booty, oh my!

I knew it was a matter of time before the cute words and phrases my little language learners were speaking would cross into questionable territory.  And seeing as my years of teaching high school have given me appreciation for juvenile humor, I am finding it difficult to keep a straight face most of the time. 

It started with an innocent snack.  I purchased a bag of "Pirate Booty." It is a natural, baked corn snack with cheddar cheese.  Although to be fair, I am fairly certain they are laced with some sort of crack (I kid), because the boys are addicted to them.  I am talking drawn out fits serious tantrums if the supply of Booty is depleted. 

G-Man toddled over to me with his snack cup, and I was well aware of his upcoming request for more.  I was not prepared for him to ask for "Booby." That is correct.  Not Booty, but Booby.  And naturally, E-Dude follows up by chanting "Booby, Booby, Booby!" ( I told those darn things were addictive)

I choked back the laughter, because let's be honest, the word booby is just funny.  Then I said, "Do you need more BooTy?" (I made sure to emphsize the T).  In response, both boys happily chortled, "More, More Booby."  

Sigh.  Guess we need more work on that one.

But the escapades of boydom do not end there.  During bath time, G-Man let loose with some significant toots, that naturally led to bubbles arising in the water. 

"See bubbles?"
"Yes, honey, those are bubbles.  Did you toot?"
"See toot stinky?"
"Yes, toots are stinky.  Say Excuse me?"
"'Scuse me."

Then the fun began.  I watched G-Man start tensing up and bearing down, as he attempted to make more bubbles in the water.  Bubbles with his butt.  And oh my, when those bubbles hit the surface, did they smell BAD!  Of course, both boys found this hilarious, and E-Dude began trying to make his own bubbles.

With enormous belly laughs, my bathroom became a toxic methane zone.

Oh boys ;)

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Love you, Too!

Another one of those things they don't tell you about having children?  "They" tell pregnant women to expect hormones and crying.  They DON'T tell you that the capacity to cry at the silliest things does NOT stop after pregnancy.  In fact, it gets worse as your children grow.

This is not a trait my formerly not prone to crying self has embraced.  I am not a fan and welcome any suggestions as to how to stop the useless and random waterworks that refuse to cease. Movie I have seen hundreds of times?  Cried.  Touching Commercial?  Bawled.  Sappy song (especially that one about Dancing with Cinderella?)  Oh yes, torrents of tears.  What the heck?

Big secret?  Sometimes, the tears are warranted tears of joy.

G-Man has recently begun stringing his words together to communicate more.  In the past few days he has said "Watch This!"  and "You try it!" while he was playing a game.  His chattering is increasing and he is quickly becoming a little boy with a silly personality.  Every day brings something new he says, some new phrase or thing he can effectively communicate.

It seems like it happened overnight.  From single words and pointing to coherent phrases with meaning.  My little man is getting so big, and right when I can feel the parental tears of pride itching at my eyes, it happens.

Tucking the Monkeys into bed.

"Night, Night Boys.  I Love you."

G-Man's precious voice, "Love You, too!"

Anyone have a tissue for me?

Friday, February 17, 2012

Joyful Interlude

The other night as we sat at the dinner table, the mood was light and silly.  Our little E-Dude led Grace, which is to say he mumbled the words "Bless us O, Lord..gibberish, gibberish, AMEN!" Which has become quite the joke between my husband and myself.  How they both love to say their prayer, but get very excited about uttering the word AMEN!

As in...look at all I remembered, AMEN.

Silliness ensued as a result.  E-Dude has been on a kick of not eating pasta in any form, so was promptly feeding his to the dog, while G-Man kept asking for more.  I gave E-Dude my best teacher look of disapproval to which he responded with a grin and a side tilt of his head.  I shook my head at him and his grin grew wider as he began to imitate my actions, right down to a pronounced pucker in his little face.

How can you not laugh at that?   I did the Mommy part and took away the food to the dismay of the circling dogs.  But then we giggled and played as a family.  Head shakes and tilts, silly voices, and laughter all around.

Little things that make you whole.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Candy Vents from Sugar Highs

I have never been a fan of Valentine's Day.  Call it cranky memories of a single girl surrounded by couples all " Atwitter" from Valentine's Day.  Or better yet, call it the bitter reminiscence of a former restaurant worker.  If ever there was a less conceived notion of romance, it is that of a dinner date on February 14 in a restaurant interested only in getting your table turned over for the next guests.

Normally when this day of flowers, cards, and candy arrives, I brush it off with an annoyed wave of my hand combined with some snarky comments.  Admittedly, I get fairly vocal about a holiday created by corporations in order to sell their wares.  And right up until this year, I didn't really think about how I was going to deal with the holiday, its silliness, and my kids.

The boys attend an in-home daycare and last week we received a lovely email containing names of all the kids in case we wanted to participate in Valentine's.  There would also be a celebration...with sweets. 

As if we aren't bombarded by massive amounts of sugar daily.  Then throw Halloween, Christmas, Valentine's, and Easter in the mix and our kids are exposed to sugar overdose.  I'm not opposed to an occasional treat, but I lean towards pushing fruits as their yummy sweetness, not chemically combined factory concoctions. 

But...the boys are two, and that makes zero sense to them.  So I bought the cute little cards with temporary tattoo and dropped them off. 

After my own candy comatose teenager filled day, I returned to pick up two very excitable little boys.  They only had a short nap, followed by cookies and a cupcake.  As a result, they were bouncing all over the place.  And mad because they could not have more.Their "Valentine" bags were filled, not just with cards, but ridiculous amounts of candy from the other parents.

Seriously?  Most of these kids are 2.  Why  make a baggie of candy/junk for kids? Again, not opposed to a lollipop here and there, but we are talking about candy that made our Halloween haul look sad.  I admit that I don't do cutesy or crafty, but why go over the top with toddlers?  Why not a little cardboard card that came from a box and leave it at that?

I am thankful the other parents are giving and kind, because they love their kids and they want to be sweet to all the toddlers.  It just saddens me that we get so caught up in a contrived holiday and confuse love with copious amounts of candy and sweets.  As the boys grow, it is going to become increasingly difficult to fight this tidal wave of unnecessary consumerism.

I hope to be able to teach them that love is something you demonstrate every day.  Little things are the best way to express your love, and if you can't do that throughout the year, one silly holiday isn't going to cut it.   Love, and expressing your love, is more than a bag of candy.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Boy Drama And Panicked Mommy

As if the glue spot on E-Dude's marred little forehead weren't enough drama for the week, about 24 hours later we had drama with G-Man. I told you they were plotting against me.

G-Man started crying at about 10pm, which isn't terribly unusual.  He gets scared and I think he dreams quite a bit, so one of us often goes in to snuggle him and calm him down.  As soon as I stepped into the nursery, G-Man was running inside his crib reaching up for me.  I picked him up and sat down to rock him when I realized he was burning up.

Fantastic. 

 I scooped him up and set him into a tub filled with lukewarm water.  As you can imagine, that did not make the poor guy happy.  He obviously had the chills and was wailing beyond all belief, his tiny fingers clutching my arm as he cried out "Mommy!" in a voice that nearly made me cry along with him.  His temperature was just over 101, so we gave him some Motrin, and let him go back to sleep.

Meanwhile I put in for an absence and emailed sub work to my fantastic co workers as I set the alarm for 3 hours later to check G-Man's temp.  2am came quickly, and of course, Griffin was still sporting a fever.  We piggybacked some Tylenol and I sat up with him until his temperature came down a bit.  Repeat alarm clock setting.

At 5:45 little man was crying and I pulled him from his crib to realize he was just burning up.  103.3 and back to the tub.  I could see his little limbs twitching in the water, and I gave myself a calming pep talk in order to brace myself for what was likely to come.

Last May, E-Dude had a febrile seizure due to fever.  It was the most horrible thing I have ever seen and I did not handle it remotely well.  Despite having seen students and friends have seizures, I was completely unprepared to see one in my little boy.  It lasted a few minutes, but felt like an eternity.  The Urgent Care we brought him to did a fantastic job of tending both to him and his overwrought parents.

Needless to say, I have lived in constant fear of fevers since that day.   And here was my G-Man, with the tell tale twitches in his legs.  The water brought his temperature down a little bit and I gave him another dose of Motrin.  We settled in on the couch as I waited for some more reduction in his fever. 

At 7, DH was leaving for work and gave me a pep talk similar to the one I had given myself only a few minutes earlier.  Stay calm, Keep him safe, get him to the doctor, and call.

It wasn't 10 minutes later when little man tensed up, eyes rolled back in his head, and tiny hands clenched into fists.  G-Man fought against the seizure the whole time, as I rubbed his head and told him it was okay, and that Mommy was there.  I grabbed the watch to time it and prayed it would pass quickly.

Thankfully, it ended as quickly as it began, and both dogs worriedly sniffed at their small charge.  G-Man was disoriented and sleepy, but that is a common response after a seizure.  I worked on auto pilot after that.  Got all 3 of us dressed and into the car, got to the Urgent Care, Called DH.  By then, G-Man was chattering and playing with his camera, just like himself, even if he was a bit wobbly.

Diagnosis?  Possible start of pneumonia as determined by an X-Ray.  We had to give medicine around the clock to treat the fever aggressively and he started some Zithromyecin. 

It was strange to watch him throughout the day as he played and laughed.  I know he has already forgotten about it, even if I never well.

And they still didn't offer me complimentary Valium.  Surely I earned it this time! ;)

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Holey Heads and The Joy of Surgical Glue

There is a good chance that my twins are secretly devising a plot to put me in an early grave.  A surefire way to throw a woman into panic mode is the ear splitting shriek of her obviously injured child.

E-Dude was happily using me as a jungle gym climbing over me when he lost his footing and stumbled headfirst into the corner of our wooden coffee table.  This is not terribly unusual, as the boys have a general knack for smacking their noggins against the borders of the ottoman style table.  This time, however, the cry E-Dude let out set every hair of my body on edge, and I knew this wasn't the ordinary head bump.   I pulled his hands away from his head in time to see a steady stream of blood pool out from the wound.

Thankful it wasn't his, eye, I scooped him up and placed him on a kitchen counter to attempt to stop the bleeding and determine the severity of the wound.  A Voice of Reason in the back of my head reminded me that head wounds have a tendency to bleed quite a bit, which helped me keep focus on my little dude.  Not that he was going to make it easy on me.  Already hurting, he had no intention of letting me hold a cloth against his sore little head, even if it meant I was helping.

After some fantastic acrobatics with the paper towel, I was able to get the bleeding to slow to a lethargic ooze.  And there it was.  A gaping puncture in his forehead.  Certainly not fixable with a band-aid and Neosporin.  A trip to the urgent care...and my husband was not home yet.  Oh joy.



I called my husband and in very stressed tones let him know what happened and where we would be.  My hands were shaking as I searched for the new insurance card (I Swear I had put it in my purse) and I could feel the panic well up inside of me.   That lovely voice in my head popped up again to remind me that if I got upset, it would upset the boys, and that was a situation I could ill afford.  So, I put on my happy face and said "Are you ready to go in the car?"

Just like that, E-Dude stops crying and says "Car?"

G-Man, clearly excited to go on an adventure, picked up my purse, slung it over his shoulder and said, "Let's go car!"    If I hadn't been so intent on getting us to the Urgent Care, I would have laughed at his cuteness.  In fact, the picture of it in my head is downright amusing.  I am in awe at his ability to take things in stride.

Despite the wound in his head, E-Dude chattered to me about the various items in the sky and the flash of his Mickey Mouse camera as I loaded the boys into the car and took the short jaunt to our local urgent care.  Quickly, the fantastic staff got us inside and had someone checking us out.  DH arrived a few minutes later to keep an eye on G-Man who was happily playing with the toy I had brought to distract him while we tended to his brother.

Certain the urgent care was going to make the call to CPS right then and there, I relayed what had happened and the doctor checked to see if the wound needed stitches or glue.  Having once heard a small child scream as he got stitches in his head, I was fervently praying for the latter.   And answering my desperate prayer, the doctor confirmed that glue would work nicely.

Thank Heavens for Quickly Answered prayers in your favor!

They did put numbing gel on the spot, which did not go over well with E-Dude.  Then our nurse came in, who turned out to be a mom of one of the boys at our daycare (small world!).  She was awesome with the little man, but he was intently watching the doctor as the doctor administered the glue on the wound.  It was so funny that even the Doctor commented on how E-Dude was watching him closely.

As a bit of a reward, the boys got to stay up until an hour after bed time to give the glue time to dry so we were able to put a band aid on the wound.  By then, E-Dude had gotten his second wind and was talking away and jumping around as if he had never been injured.

He is doing great.  I, however, would have appreciated it if the doctor had prescribed me a sedative ;)

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Bath Time Surprise!

This had all the makings of such a fun post to brag on my silly boys.  It was bath time, which is a favorite past time around here.  We have all sorts of bath toys and the boys love playing in the water. Not unlike a horror movie, a perfectly normal and happy bath time can take an interesting turn.

E-Dude got his shoes off and managed to get his pants pulled down without assistance.  G-Man got stuck with the pants, but in his defense, blue jeans are tough.  We discussed the differences between Hot (boys blowing on the water as if trying to cool it down) and Cold (BRRRRRRR!).  E-Dude showed me how to scoop, scoop, scoop with his hands to demonstrate how we swim.  G-Man got brave and showed how to blow bubbles in the water.

That in itself was a triumphant moment.  We took the boys to Parent and Baby pool classes last summer, and while they loved the water, didn't truly get the concept of kick, scoop, and blowing bubbles.  Now, they are all too happy to demonstrate their skills.  Kicking leads to quite the mess of water, but how can I get angry with such joy?

All was well with the bath as we moved on to washing our body parts with soap and playing with our Yo Gabba Gabba squirty toys.   E-Dude Finally figured out that if he tilted his head way back, the soap wouldn't get into his eyes when Mommy rinsed out the shampoo.  (Score! Another Victory for my man!)

Everything was moving along as it usually did.  I drained the tub of water and started to dry off E-Dude.  G-Man hangs in the tub as the water drains away and plays with his toys for a few minutes.   E-Dude was dried, pajama clad, and ready to go see Daddy before bedtime.  G-Man tried to stand up in the tub which is a big no-no.  I reached for him and him for me, surprised that he wanted to give up his play time so quickly.

Then the tears started.  I looked into the tub as the last bits of water drained away from the large brown mass that had no business in the pearly white tub.  Oh...crap.  Literally.  And not the kind that would easily wash down the drain.  My Munchkin was obviously upset and I talked soothingly to him as I quickly washed him once again to get all of the foreign substance off his sweet little body.  I told him (and myself) that it was okay, that the tub was the best spot if it had to happen, that he didn't have to be so upset.

I meant everything I said to him and watched him happily pad down the hallway to see his dad.  Staring at the mess before me, I sighed and grabbed the disposable rubber gloves someone had once bought for us as a joke.  (They have now come in handy on several occasions)  Armed with gloves and some Clorox, I disposed of the offending grossness with minimal disgust.

Didn't really want to watch the Super Bowl Halftime show, anyway.

Ahhh...Motherhood.

This is the stuff they don't tell you!

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

My Word For The Year

Should probably be procrastinate, since most other bloggers came up with theirs a month ago ;).  Thankfully, the peeps over at My One Word encourage mulling it over throughout January and going full force in February.  Between them and One Word 365, I have been really praying over the concept of choosing ONE word to work on for the year.

It is so much more difficult than I could have imagined.  There are many, many things I could and should work on...prayer, faith, surrender, obey,quiet, service and so on.  I prayed on it, talked to God about it.  And...didn't really think I had heard anything.  So I started to focus on Love.  I have been reciting Mark 12:29-31 before prayer and have really taken to heart the multiple definitions of love.  (“The first of all the commandments is: ‘Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. This is the first commandment. And the second, like it, is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these.”)

Let's be honest, I fail miserably at loving my neighbor as myself.  When I honk at the driver in front of me for going 10 miles below the speed limit, I guarantee that is not how I want to be treated.  Or when I snap at a co- worker because they have irritated me...definitely not showing the love there.  Never mind that the word didn't really 'click' with me.  It seemed that a years worth of lessons from God on love was more appealing than some of the alternatives.  


I was all set to write this post on all the ways I could improve the 'Love' in my life.  And then God intervened, in the typical smack me upside the head fashion that will prove to be the ONLY way I will pay attention.  I was reading my Bible one evening when the word Humble popped into my head.  I felt something stir inside of me, and then dismissed the notion.  Little did I know that a lesson was forthcoming.


It started with an email from a co worker.  He hasn't worked closely with me and was checking on paperwork progress for a meeting we had.  Not being a huge fan of 'reminders' and already being irritated at being notified last minute for a meeting which required copious amounts of paperwork and student testing, I sent back a curt little nasty gram.  Oh yes, and then I discussed with my my nearest friends and felt pretty proud of myself.


It wasn't too long after I sent the email that I began to feel guilty.  The poor man has had to deal with people who are not competent, who conveniently 'forget' what they are supposed to do, and like I said, he hasn't worked with me much.  Stubborn woman that I am, I kept on with my day, and the worse the guilt became.  Then the words "Be humble, be humble, be humble," played repeatedly in my head.  And then I realized where the message was coming from.


Face Palm. 

Crap.


With embarrassment at my behavior, I marched myself into my co worker's office and apologized with just enough volume for anyone in the vicinity to hear.  (Not like the story wasn't going to be repeated after I left, might as well save him the trouble of retelling.) He was very kind and gracious, and we chatted pleasantly for a few minutes.  Ugh, I was squirming.


And then...an apology from the individual who sent me the late meeting notice.  Crap...I had been rather vocal about that one as well.


I am not going to pretend I am looking forward to these lessons.  Lessons that are going to require me to lay down my pride so that I truly can Love my Neighbor.  Pride and I have always had a close relationship.  It is going to be hard to kick it out the door.


In the interest of full disclosure, I didn't even want to make this post.  But that is the point isn't it?  To pick a word to challenge you to change. I still don't really want to do this.  

As if I have a choice....

Wish me luck!

Linking up with:

Monday, January 30, 2012

"Mommy!"

I will admit this up front, this post is nothing but a shameless mommy gushing.  One of those little things you notice all of a sudden and it gives you so much joy and excitement, that you remember being a little kid waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve.

I don't remember when the boys first said the word "Mommy."  They knew it and used it when asked who I was, but it seemed like they never used it to refer to me.  Not unlike every step in their development, I wondered if it implied some developmental issue or meant that they were behind their age appropriate peers.

The progression came on gradually.  E-Dude would see me arrive to pick them up from daycare and would yell "Mommy!"  as he ran at me full speed.  He often made a point of telling any other adult in the vicinity that this was "My Mommy," just in case they came in too close.  I can't lie, these moments are some of the best of the day, they make the workday more worthwhile.

Just in the last few days  the word "Mommy" has exploded for the munchkins.  If I go to the store and return to the house, I am greeted with an enthusiastic, "Mommy!" as if I have been gone for days.  When I creep into the nursery in the morning, G-Man starts chanting, "Mommy, Mommy!"  Frustrations and tears and worries are now combined with a "Mommy" before a child is flinging himself into my arms for comfort.

Having waited so long for Mommy to become my name, so to speak, I was surprised that I only just realized this development.  It is like it snuck up on me and appeared all of a sudden.

While I know there will be days in the future when the repeated insistence of 'Mommy' will likely drive me batty, I hope that I can conjure up memories of today.  Memories of the swell of joy I feel in my heart when my sons call out for me and talk to me. 

How I love being Mommy!

Linking up with The Better Mom:

Thursday, January 26, 2012

But which one am I?

It has gone one for weeks now.

"Who is that?"
"Mommy."
"Who is that?"
"Daddy."
"Who is that?"
"E-Dude."
"Who are you?"
"E-Dude!"
"You are G-Man big boy!"

We have a bit of an identity complex here in the TwinSane Asylum.  Both boys think they are E-Dude.  If I ask their name, it is always E-Dude.  Point to one of them in the mirror, E-Dude.  Show them a picture of both of them?  Oh yes, you've got it "E-Dude!"

I never thought they would have trouble distinguishing themselves from one another.  After all, I use their names every day.  I point to their happy little faces in the mirror and repeat their own name, after we have a nonsensical conversation about Mommy in the mirror, of course. At the end of the day, I expect strangers to have a tough time telling them apart but I figured it ended there.

This development was completely unexpected.

With no clue how to approach it, I took the simple route.  The three of us would look in the mirror and I would point to myself and say "Mommy", point to E-Dude and say his name, then point to G-Man and say his name.

Every
Single
Day

for what felt like forever, but in reality was only a few weeks.  And today it happened.  I was quizzing them as they got dressed this morning.  Helping G-Man put on his shoes, I asked who I was, who his brother was, and finally, with a huge deep breath..."What's your name?"

Big toothy smile and response, "G-Man!"

Needless to say there was an impromptu dance party in the nursery as a follow up.  Now if only I can get them to hold up two fingers when I ask them how old they are....



Linking up with MOB Society.  Let's Hear it For the Boys!

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

The Evolution of "No"

It started out as such a cute thing.  I would hold whatever offensive piece of food G-Man didn't want to eat up to his mouth and say"Try it for Mommy?"

Those sweet little lips would purse up in a pucker, his expressive eyes would squint shut, and just before he would turn his head away from the spoon, the pucker would turn into a grin as he said. "NOooooooo."  I would dutifully try all of the games from making the spoon an airplane to making exaggerated 'mmmmmm' noises while I sampled food from his plate.  No go.

His no was sweet and simple.  He simply did not want that particular meal (his tune would change considerably had I offered a banana!).  Little was I aware that the sweet little no would soon grow into a monster.

"G-Man, let's get a toy."

"No."

"We are going to have a bath and go Night Night."

"No."

"Let's put on your shoes so we can go in the car."

"No."

Awesome.

I get it.  All the parenting gurus and the been there done that parents (the REAL gurus) say that at this age, children are trying to exert their will and authority.  It is one of many steps of my children demonstrating their independence.  And, let's face it.  It is a giant pain in the butt.

I still get my sweet hugs and kisses, and there is no one better than Mommy to fix boo-boos and chase away the bad dreams.  Their little faces still light up brightly when I pick them up after work, or get them from their cribs in the morning.  They still think Mommy is the most awesome person on the planet. I am not complaining a bit.

Well...maybe a little.

There is a little twinge you feel when your child discovers the many uses of the word no.  Not like you are preparing for battle, but a full out war.  One where you know some day, you are going to break out the words you swore you would never say.  "Because I said so." or "I am your mother and you will do as I say!"

I can feel them lying dormant...ready to spring from my unsuspecting lips.

But not today.  Today, when I pick up my little G-Man my nostrils are greeted with a familiar and unpleasant odor emitting from his diaper.  Surprised that he hasn't announced the arrival of his toxic waste, I ask him.  "G-Man...do you have poops?"

He hesitates for a second and turns his precious little head to the right.  Looking at me from the corners of his eyes he answers: "Nooooooooooooooo."

Sunday, January 22, 2012

How would you like to go up in a swing?

On a beautiful 70 degree day in January, DH and I decided to take the boys to the park.

Out the front door, a familiar sight, but the newness of taking footsteps instead of a stroller ride.
"See Light?"
"See Car?"
"See Tree?"
"See Plane?"

Everything old, and yet new when you are exploring on your own feet, and not at the passive mercy of a stroller.  I loved the feel of the tiny hands curled around mine.  G-Man had grabbed a strong hold for security and held on tightly as we made the short walk down the road.  Everything seemed new.  Houses, dormant grass, birds flying overhead.

"Ok.  We have to stop and look left."
"LEF!"
"Now look right."
"Right!"

No cars and it was safe to cross the street.  2 excited little boys toddling along and dodging the big kids on bikes.  Daddy let go of E-Dude's hand and said "Want to go swing?"

That was enough for E-Dude.  Half skipping, half sprinting, he ran as fast as his little body allowed.  Hesitating for a moment, I released G-Man's hand and told him to go with brother.

Two little men.  Happy, joyous, and full of anticipation.  I followed behind and took in the delight of watching them run towards a goal together.  The 'baby; swings were empty and the boys loaded on.

"weeeeeeeeee!" followed by infectious giggles.

Up, down, and flying with happiness.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Deceptively Delicious or Yes, I am Tricking my Children Into Eating

When you first start teaching, veteran teachers tell you to pick your battles with the students.  Be firm, consistent, and swift with broken rules that affect the learning of any one student.  Also know which 'rule bends' aren't worth the disruption to the class. (For example-The kids started wearing the bracelets that said "Boobies."  I ignored it, as it wasn't offensive and didn't disrupt learning as it would if I made a fuss over it.  Our new principal actually got on announcements a few days later and told the students they didn't need to be wearing bracelets that said boobies.  Naturally there was an influx in the amount of boobie bracelets the next day. I was momentarily tempted to wear one myself.)

Not the best battle to pick.

Parenting isn't unlike teaching in that regard, but I find that while they are this little, most battles have to be fought.  How else do they know what is proper, correct, accepted, etc?

The boys are not fans of vegetables.

At all.  (unless of course you count french fries)

E-Dude is by far pickier than his brother as far as food is concerned. Meals he loves one day he throws to the eager and anticipatory dogs the next.  It has become a BATTLE.  Obviously, I don't want to force feed them food, because that isn't the answer in the long term.  We constantly reintroduce food and attempt to come up with clever ploys designed to get the boys to eat those dreaded vegetables.

They seem to have a built in vegetable detector which allows them to circumvent any veggies with which they come into contact.  It is simply astounding to witness those normally clumsy fingers picking out vegetables with the dexterity of a neurosurgeon.

As a mom, and as a person who once WAS a vegetarian, I don't want to see the boys eschew vegetables like this for fear it will become a lifetime choice.  (Yes, I even like brussel sprouts, so this vegetable hating is killing me)  In a moment of sheer desperation, I shredded some carrots and mixed them in with the spaghetti sauce.

G-Man chowed it down like it was the last food on earth.

Cue the overhead light bulb.

They just MIGHT eat what they cannot see.  This strategic plan, however, caused me significant grief.  Mainly that I didn't want to 'trick' my kids into eating food.  Due to a deception on my mother's part, I was once fed frog's legs under the guise that the drumstick shapes on my plate were 'hen's legs.'  I can honestly attest to the validity of the cliche that frog's legs do indeed taste like chicken.  For several years following I was none the wiser until I remarked to my parents that I would NEVER eat frog's legs.

I can still hear my mother giggling as she asked me if I remembered the time I ate hen's legs.   Only they were not hen's legs. 

The distinct sense of betrayal I felt as a tween has stayed with me throughout my adult life.  I didn't want to have to resort to trickery to get my children to eat something.The alternative of children who refuse to eat vegetables wasn't appealing either.

I tried dousing vegetables in ranch dressing, or ketchup, or any kind of sauce that might encourage an actual bite of veggie.  In response, I got two little boys who love ranch and ketchup so much, they will lick it off the vegetables and discard said veggies as if they were merely utensils.  No intentional ingestion of vegetables to be found there.

The other night I tried the disguised vegetable trick again.  I shredded carrots and zucchini, mixed it with eggs, cheese, and breadcrumbs to make a pancake.  Next to the pancakes I gave them some ranch dressing.  Before I knew it, E-Dude had devoured 2 of the pancakes and was begging for more.   G-Man was only a few bites behind. (Cue Angelic Choir)

 They ate vegetables and they loved it, only they don't know it. In my mommy desperation, I had begun sprinting down a road I never thought I would travel. We will continue to put traditional vegetables on the plate, in hopes that one day the boys will decide they like them.  In the meantime,  I have also been sneaking spinach into fruit smoothies as a treat, and they beg for their 'juice.'

Let the games begin!

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Sharing the Blog Love

One thing I LOVE to do is read other blogs, especially about Parenting and twins (duh!).  I found Michelle's site MaMe Musings almost right away and have been reading each day since.  Her posts are full of joy, kindness, and humor, and she is definitely one of those people you would love to know in real life.  It is very easy to read her posts and become familiar with her, she writes that well!

What I didn't expect this early into my attempt to focus more on the blog was to be given an award :)  Michelle made me smile (and almost caused a hint of tears).  Thank you! 

It is an award meant for those with smaller amounts of followers that lets them know they are appreciated.  My favorite kind!  I am truly enjoying gabbing about life and my boys, and getting to know others out there!



(Copied and Pasted from Michelle)
The rules for accepting this award are simple:

1. Show your thanks to the blogger who gave you the award by linking back to them.

2. Reveal your top 5 picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.

3. Post the award on your blog. (right click to save to your computer, than upload to your blog.)

4. Bask in the love from the most supportive people on the Internet – other writers.

5. And best of all – have fun and spread the Karma!

Here are some blogs I have found recently, check them out!

Cherry Pie Twins

Pontifications of a Twin Mom

Geeky & Sassy

Narrow Paths to Higher Places

Boo Boos Blessings