Top Ten: K & O in Unsupervised Moments

Being on maternity leave this summer has meant that I've been spending a lot of quality time with not only Meera, but with Kyle and Owen as well. It is great. It is exhausting. And, at times, yes, it is absolutely exasperating. These two are two handfuls. The word "active" is the nice word we've chosen to use for it. And lordy can they ever get into mischief (again, "mischief" is a nice word for it). Separated, they are good as gold (for example, when they are each in their own separate rooms during their 'rest hour' each day they are well behaved and completely trustworthy). But together it is a different story. Mayhem can occur so quickly that you barely have time to realize what's happened once it's happened. You can't leave them alone for five minutes without something crazy going down by the time you're re-entering the room. As we have long said -- 'with these two it isn't just times two, it is times two squared to the exponential degree.' There is some sort of indescribable dynamic between them. Their energy is literally endless, their ability for mischief is boundless. The problem is, now that Meera's in the picture, I've got to leave them alone for five minutes (or sometimes even ten, or -- gasp! -- maybe even fifteen). Her diaper changes are no problem (I got very quick at that with having had twins in diapers not too long ago)... but really now-- how quickly can you clean up, undress, and re-dress a spit-up covered baby? how quickly can you feed a baby (we're talking with a breast here folks, not the fast flow bottle)? how quickly can you get a fussy baby down for a nap??? It is now necessary for quality time with Kyle and Owen to be interrupted by periods of time when they're left alone... to their own devices... without the direct monitoring and supervision of a responsible adult right there in the very same room with them. Now, believe me, I wouldn't leave them unattended by choice... but given the Baby Sister Scenario it is now... unfortunately... unavoidable. Even more frightening is the fact that sometimes K & O need to be left alone in a room for a couple of minutes with Meera. I've got to run to the bathroom, or answer the phone, or get the door, or step outside to check whatever is on the grill for dinner. Now that (the boys. with Meera. alone. without direct supervision. for 120 long seconds.) is a true test of one's capacity for risk-taking. Here are the top ten things my precious angels have done while I've left the room for a few minutes so far this summer:

1. One day we were just finishing lunch and I had to bring Meera up to her room for a nap. I told K & O to go wash their hands and then play quietly until I came back downstairs. I found them 10 minutes later, in the downstairs bathroom, standing in water, mirror covered with dripping water and soap, drenched hand towels everywhere. Their shirts, shorts, and underpants were soaked and soapy. Their hair was dripping wet and sudsy. Their faces and necks were covered in thick foamy handsoap. They said they were "shaving." ??!?!???


2. One day I had finally gotten Meera to sleep in her crib. Downstairs I was delighted to find the boys playing nicely in the playroom. On cloud 9 with the status of things in the homestead I grabbed the baby monitor and went to the kitchen to pour myself some coffee. I had just filled the mug when I heard them... through the baby monitor: "Hi Meera! Hi my baby! Did you have a good nap baby girl?!" And then the screeching scream that can only be described as 'newborn being jolted and startled awake by twin 4 year old brothers.' I ran up the stairs to M's room and found them climbing the crib rails, reaching for the mobile, the mobile swinging wildly, K & O trying desperately (but unsuccessfully) to wind it so that the music would play. "WHAT ARE YOU DOOOOOOOOOING????!" I screamed (over Meera's screams) "She is done with her nap and she wants her mobile!" they explained. ??!?!??


3. One day I was getting Meera cleaned up from a major spit-up explosion. I thought the boys were playing in Kyle's room. I found them later, in me and Braydon's bathroom. Each at one sink. Both faucets blasting hot water. Both sinks clogged... with toothpaste. Toothpaste tube completely emptied (it had been a brand new tube that morning). Each boy industriously scrubbing their respective sinks with toothbrushes, a minty fresh scent filling the steamy bathroom. "Hi Mommy! We're making coffee! And brushing the sinks!" ??!?!???


4. One day I was nursing Meera upstairs in her room. I noticed that the house was way too quiet. Which worried me greatly. After nursing I came downstairs to find 400 feet of string (yes, 400 feet) strung in circles around and around the interior of the house -- from the playroom, through the foyer, through Braydon's office, through the kitchen, through the family room, through the hall, and back through the playroom again many many many times. Around and around and around. It was strung so tightly that whole pieces of furniture had shifted positions. ??!?!???


5. One day we were in the family room -- the boys were watching a video and Meera was sitting in her swing. The phone rang. I ran to get it. I had just picked it up when I heard Kyle shouting "No! No! No! No!" Something about it made me very concerned. I ran back to the family room and found Owen standing up, holding Meera in a very awkward (read between the lines: a seriously-dangerous-to-a-newborn) position. Owen turned and saw me then dropped her - quick as a flash - back down to the swing. She fell in a shriveled slump onto the swing, her head/neck completely flopped down, dangling. After the biggest time out he's ever had in his entire life, Owen learned that this sort of thing could kill babies. He explained to me later, very earnestly: "I wanted to hold her. I didn't want to kill her." Rest assured that will never happen again.


6. Same video/swing scenario as number 5 above, except that I had to leave to go to the bathroom (the phone didn't ring). From the bathroom I hear Meera let out a terrifying cry that sounds like she's truly being tortured. I get out of there as quickly as humanly possible and take off back to the family room. Both boys are hovering over her and the plastic baby toy that had been dangling from the top of the swing is now on Meera's lap. Meera is screaming, with a slight bump on her forehead that is quickly turning red. Kyle, who is frantic, and now crying so hard he is hyperventilating, cries out: "I wanted to pull the toy for her. I didn't want to kill her." Again, you can rest assured that will never happen again.


7. One day we had just finished breakfast when I heard Meera on the baby monitor and had to go get her up from an early morning nap. I told the boys to put their dishes in the sink and then play nicely while I was upstairs. From upstairs all sounded well down below. I decided to go ahead and nurse her in her room. After nursing and changing Meera's diaper I came back downstairs to discover both boys, standing on their stools, at the kitchen sink, steaming hot sudsy soapy bubbly water overflowing onto the counters and running down onto the floor, soaking kitchen floor and the area rug beneath the sink. Sudsy soapy bubbly beyond belief. Cheerily they exclaimed, "We're washing our dishes for you Mom!" During the clean up of this mess I discovered that they had emptied a solid half of an entire large bottle of dish soap. ??!?!???


8. One day they were playing their usual--- 'going on a trip on an airplane' (they play this everyday). This involves lining up chairs to be 'the airplane,' packing bags full of as many items from around the house that they can stuff in them, laying down on the floor any blankets they can get their hands on, etc. They usually take every single musical instrument they have on their trips too. (This is highly intricate and elaborate play which always ultimately results in a major clean up project afterwards.) Anyway, on this particular day they added a new twist (which they quickly learned to omit from future versions of this play after they saw my reaction to it)... I was talking on the phone for a few minutes and not really paying attention to what they were doing. When I got off the phone I found them running back and forth, back and forth, back and forth from their 'airplane' to the refrigerator. Half of the contents of the fridge were laid out all over, in, around, on, under the chairs/blankets/bags/musical instruments, etc. Ketchup, pickles, orange juice, eggs, containers of dinner leftovers, deli turkey, carrots, a bottle of breastmilk, maple syrup, a jar of salsa, yogurt, etc.... everywhere. As I came onto the scene I hear them: "Do we have enough snacks?! This is going to be a looooong trip! We need lots of snacks on this airplane! We need to get more snacks!!!" and so on.


9. One day I was unloading and re-loading the dishwasher in the kitchen. We were in the midst of a heat wave and the AC had been running since early that morning. In the family room the boys were playing 'build a beaver house' (?? --another thing they regularly play-- I understand their fascination with travel, but this beaver house thing I really don't get). Anyway, they were doing what they always do when they play this -- covering furniture with blankets and creating tunnels to crawl through, pretending to "go to the river to catch fish," etc. I finished in the kitchen and went to check in on them. As soon as I walked into the room I felt a blast of hot, humid air, blankets laid out everywhere, and they are nowhere to be seen. I quickly discover that not only have they opened up one of the windows, but have somehow managed to knock the screen out. They have crawled out the window and are standing outside, just below the window, on top of the air conditioning unit beneath it. The air conditioning vent is blowing the hot air from inside the house upward, and they are standing there, very serious looks on their faces, arms outstretched, dripping with sweat. As I approach the window they see me and call out to me loudly (so as to raise their voices above the sound of the AC): "Mommy! Look at us! We're beavers and we're hang-gliding!!!!!"


10. One day we were coming in from the pool. I told the boys to take off their wet bathing suits and put them in the laundry room while I changed Meera's diaper. I finished with the diaper and couldn't find the boys anywhere in the house. I looked out the window and saw them riding their bicycles up the driveway, waving wildly to a garbage truck that was passing by on the road, and they were fully completely 100% naked. ??!?!???

Swinging - In and Out, In and Out, In and Out

We've been working on pumping skills (when swinging) lately. For as physically agile and ridiculously adept as Kyle and Owen are, their swinging-pumping skills have always been surprisingly lackluster. Given that they -- for example -- walked at 10 months, could hit golf balls very hard and very far at 14 months (hard and far enough that one of Kyle's hits from the front yard broke a window in our house), were shooting hoops to a full height basket at 18 months, were riding Razor scooters (and doing tricks on them) at 24 months, were diving swan dives off the ledge of the pool (and swimming underwater the width of the pool) at 2 years 2 months, were snorkeling in the open Caribbean when they were barely 3, and are now hitting baseballs into the neighbors' yards at barely 4... (... you get the drift...)... you'd think that they could pump on a swing. But no. So lately we've been really trying to get them to grasp the whole pumping concept: in and out, in and out, in and out. Really, I think they just really like being pushed and have no motivation to learn to pump. But with a lot of coaching and a lot of coaxing, they are starting to get better at it. This weekend we saw their swinging skillz greatly improve. And I see this as a metaphor for the weekend for all of us: in and out, in and out, in and out.

Our emotions are like four pendulums, our tempers are swinging, our patience is swaying, etc. Again, you get the drift -- lots of fussing, screaming, tantruming, dropping-onto-the-floor-in-a-weeping-heap (I'm speaking both literally and figuratively for all four of us here!). But also lots of moments of sweet contentment, sheer happiness, empathy, and pulling together too. Kyle kisses my belly hundreds of times a day just at random, and tells me "Mommy, I love that baby inside there." Owen talks gently to the baby regularly trying to convince her to "get out of there." In hopes to find inspiration for tolerance, Braydon is back to re-reading our favorite parenting book of all time (the perfect owners manual for our particular twinados; OMG are our boys ever classic textbook SSpirited with a double capital 'S') -- Raising Your Spirited Child (click here). And I'm just basically using every single bit of self-control I have in me to try to remain calm amidst the storm. K & O are trying to be good for their frazzled parents (which is a lot for them, all things considered). And Braydon and I are trying to keep up with our wild high-energy pushing-pushing-pushing boys (which is a lot for us, all things considered). I feel like we're all in and out, in and out, in and out. And not usually swinging in coordination with one another. But we're dealing. And trying to pass the time. What else are we supposed to do?

The truth is, this is nothing compared to the waiting that we went through (all four of us) during our adoption. Nothing, absolutely nothing, compares to that. This just pales in comparison. Pales. I think about that constantly. I can't really speak for what K & O must have gone through (I hate to even let myself think about what those first eight months of life were like for them). So I'll only speak for myself here. But I can confidently say: I'd take the in-and-out, in-and-out, in-and-out emotional rollercoaster of physical discomfort, aches and pains, feeling like a beached whale, hard-to-sleep, everyone-on-the-edge-of-their-seat, trying-to-pass-time, 4-days-passed-the-due-date, weirdness of this melodrama over the in-and-out, in-and-out, in-and-out emotional rollercoaster of a literal ticking-clock, life-or-death, tiny-babies-barely-surviving-in-a-Haitian-orphanage, no-end-in-sight, sleepless nights melodrama of our Haitian adoption process any day of the week. Seriously. I'm sorry if that offends anyone out there who just doesn't get it. But it is the honest to God truth. After having gone through what we went through (and knowing the stories of so many others who have gone through much worse), I have a hard time complaining about this. It is all relative. So, at the end of the day (or the end of a very loooong past-due-date weekend, as the case may be), and at the end of this pregnancy (hopefully the end!!!!!!!!!!!) I really can't bear to complain. It just feels foolish to me -- the idea of complaining about something so relatively easy. Yes, being 9 months + 4 days pregnant kind of sucks. Yes, I'm ready to be done with this. Yes, I kind of want to spend the entire day napping. Yes, I kind of wish someone would devote themselves to catering to my every whim for the remainder of this baby-countdown. But it really isn't that bad. In comparison... it really, really isn't. And so we just keep swinging.

Here are some random (very random!) shots from the weekend. Our good camera is packed for the hospital, so we just have our old camera out -- and our photo taking has been sporadic, at best.







In other news -- interestingly, June was back with us pretty much full-time this weekend. (For those of you who don't know about K & O's imaginary friend click here for one of many posts where we have written about her.) Here are some fun facts that I've learned about June these past couple of days:

• June's bike is black
• June's raincoat is gray
• June's rainboots are blue and green
• When June "has a pee pee accident in the night" (i.e., wets her bed) she "cleans herself up all by herself"
• When June goes out to lunch with us she always orders macaroni and cheese, if at all possible
• When June goes out to lunch with us at California Tortilla (where mac 'n cheese is not possible) she chooses an Oatmeal Raisin cookie over a brownie for dessert after she finishes her burrito (just like K & O)
• June has her own bedroom -- it is between Kyle and Owen's bedrooms
• June has a peace crane hanging from the ceiling in her bedroom -- just like K & O do
• June is not good at pumping
• June is not K & O's sister
• June is not going to be allowed to hold Baby Sister (she'll have her own baby)
• June's age is variable depending on what we (or she) is doing at any given moment -- sometimes she's 4, sometimes 10, sometimes (often) she's 35 or 36. And every once in a while, June is "tweety" years old (see below)
• June does not know how to snap, but she is trying to learn (see below)

And here's some more recent random info from our neck of the woods -- The Latest Re: K & O Twinspeak (click here for another post on this topic)

• "Tweety" (not to be mistaken for the word 'twenty' -- how dare you!!!!!) is a number. This number is 100% made up by K & O and does not resemble any other number known to humankind, and yet is used in their language many times every day. From what I can gather, it means 'many' or 'a lot' or 'a high number' or 'infinite.' But, importantly, it is also fluid (i.e., it is not a fixed number and can fluctuate depending on the circumstance). It is not interchanged with any other word and does not replace any real number. Examples --there are tweety caterpillars swarming around in the nest in the tree in the front yard; the ocean has tweety fish in it; a car driving too fast is driving tweety [mph] on the road; David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez (red sox) can hit the baseball tweety far; Tiger Woods can hit the golfball tweety; a very old man might be tweety years old; sometimes June is tweety years old (when she gets to do something that K & O are not allowed to do, such as cook by herself on the hot stove); K & O are so hungry that they want to eat tweety cheese; Papi is so funny that he is tweety funny; and my favorite... K & O "love Mommy tweety times around."
• "Snap!" is a remark. Owen can snap his fingers to make a loud snap sound. Kyle cannot. Snapping has become a big thing around here. The word "snap" is now part of K & O's twinspeak. To say "snap!" while motioning a snap motion with their fingers in someone's face (sound or not), indicates something along the lines of either 'awesome! you're totally cool! hip hip hooray!' or 'bummer! you're a total drag! boo to you!' Examples -- I say, "I have an idea! Let's go play outside!" and I get two quick loud punctuated verbal "SNAP!"'s along with both boys jumping up and doing the snapping hand motion fast and furious in my face as they run toward the door; I say, "No, we're going to eat dinner soon, you cannot have any cheese!" and I get two quick loud punctuated verbal "SNAP!"'s along with both boys jumping up and doing the snapping hand motion fast and furious in my face as they give me the hairy eyeball and saunter off to the playroom; Kyle does something rude to Owen and he gets the "SNAP!" in response; Owen suggests some fun pretend game to Kyle and he gets the "SNAP!" in response; sometimes they'll be chattering together in the backseat of the car and suddenly they'll both do the "SNAP!" at the same time (in the midst of talking about something super cool or something that they think is a super downer).

O.k., that's it for today. Blogging can now officially be counted as one of my "things to do to pass time waiting for baby"!!! We know that many of you are checking in here for updates -- 697 of you yesterday, to be exact. We feel very checked-in-after, and I've gotta say-- it feels good! Thank you! Don't fret -- we'll keep you updated! ;)

Cracking Each Other Up, Crazy Happy, & Do They Know?

K & O have always been really good at making each other laugh. Almost always with inside jokes that seem very twinny (i.e., nobody seems to really 'get it' except for the two of them). Even as little babies they'd regularly crack each other up. I remember when they were about 13-14 months old they had a "da!" phase where they would shout "da!" at each other with every variation of intonation that you could possibly imagine -- just cracking each other up like it was the funniest thing in the whole wide world. They'd often do it in the grocery store as I was rolling them in the cart. People in the isles wouldn't be able to help themselves from stopping to watch them... and people couldn't help but crack up themselves when they'd see it. Regularly I'd get asked, "What are they saying to each other? What is so funny?" And all I could say, was, "I have no idea! Who the heck knows?! But obviously they think that whatever it is is absolutely hysterical!?!!" But lately they've taken their art form to a whole new level. They are cracking each other up -- BIG TIME! They laugh so incredibly hard at/with each other that we worry one of them will choke. But it is very hard to not crack up yourself when you're in their presence and they're on a roll. These seriously intense laughing spells are happening at least a couple of times a day, sometimes many times each day. This particular twinny laugh session (photos below) took place after dinner the other night when the two of them were eating ice cream for dessert. Braydon and I were sitting at the table with them, but they were in their own little world... and whatever it was that they thought was so funny was very, very funny! These guys are so crazy happy so much of the time. It is hard to imagine that this is normal... even despite the fact that they are 3 year old twin boys. How can any two people be that crazy happy that much of the time???!

Recently I was chatting with a mom of one of K & O's friends from school. School was out and we were watching our kids play on the playground before heading home. Out of nowhere she said, "I want to ask you something, but please just tell me if you don't want to answer because I'd totally understand." I said, "O.k.?" And she said, "Do you think they know?" I was caught off guard and I wasn't exactly sure I knew what she was asking. She clarified, "Do you think that Kyle and Owen know-- like, they know hardship and pain and they know how lucky they are-- and maybe that is why they are so happy and full of life all the time? I mean, I just don't think it is normal-- for kids this age to be like that. There is something different about them. It is like they must know or something." This is not the first time that someone has asked me something like this. Many people have, actually. But I was surprised to hear it from this mom because she doesn't know much of K & O's life story. I said, "Honestly, I don't know. Braydon and I do wonder about that. We wonder if somehow that is all deep inside them at some level and that's why they are this way. But we really don't know. There is no way to know." She then asked me if it bothers me for her to call them "lucky." She explained that another adoptive family she knows has a big problem with it when people describe their child as 'lucky.' I know that many adoptive families do feel this way. When people refer to their kids as "lucky" they make short retorts back like, "no, we're the lucky ones!" etc. Braydon and I have talked about this at length in regards to our boys. I understand why it bothers people to refer to their adopted children as "lucky" (the reasons are many and I empathize with all of them). But in our specific case, it really doesn't bother me. First of all-- on so many levels, K & O are just not at all lucky. Lucky to have been born in one of the worst most violent and desperately impoverished slums on the planet?? I think not. Lucky to have been abandoned at birth with absolutely nothing?? No. Lucky to have been forced to survive in a very tough Haitian orphanage for their first eight months of life? No. Lucky to have then, at age 8 months, had everything they had ever known (bad as may have been, it was still their life and the only life they knew) ripped away from them as they were brought to an entirely new world where nothing resembled anything from their prior life whatsoever? No. But are they lucky to be twins who at least had each other? Lucky to have been abandoned early enough that they were able to get at least some sustenance in the orphanage? Lucky to have been adopted by Braydon and I? Lucky to have been two out of 1.5 million orphans in Haiti who 'got out'? Lucky to have been two out of only approximately 200 Haitian orphans adopted into the U.S.A. in the year 2005 (many of the other 200 having been adopted by their extended family members who had somehow managed to immigrate to the U.S. in years prior)? Lucky to have been given a new life with opportunities and life-chances that exceed anything imaginable in their birthplace of origin... that exceed anything imaginable by all of the other hundreds of thousands of orphans still struggling to survive in Haiti? I think so. What are the chances? 2 out of 1.5 million. The chances of winning any number of lotteries are higher. Is it luck? I guess that is one way to describe it. Destiny? Perhaps. God's will? I'm sure many people look at it that way. Coincidence? I suppose that's possible. I don't know what it is. I only know that K & O have never looked back. I know that they are the two happiest, most engaged-in-life, most full-of-life people I've ever known. Is that because they know??? I am not sure. I just know that I know. And it makes me feel like the proudest most grateful mother in the whole world. Words cannot describe how crazy happy it makes me to know that they are so crazy happy.

[top 5 photos are K looking/laughing at O; bottom 5 photos are O looking/laughing at K]

Twingenuity

It never ceases to amaze me-- the stuff these twins of ours come up with!!! When left to their own devices their clever twinship is always awe-inspiring (and very entertaining!). These photos are from a few weeks ago when we were in Florida. The water fountain at a playground we were visiting was impossible for the boys to drink from alone (it was too tall and the button was too hard to press). But as always, when left to figure it out on their own, they quickly found the perfect twinny solution!

"Where's My Twin?"

This morning we went to Bounce U with Joy Lin and her Mom and Dad. It was heaven for Kyle and Owen to be at Bounce U playing with Joy Lin. And Braydon and I had such a good time chatting with Chris and Lisa. One thing that is so great about getting together with another high-energy-and-full-of-life-kid-family is that you don't have to feel self-conscious about how high-energy-and-full-of-life your kid(s) is/are! You all just sort of understand each other in some way that feels really comfortable and special. It's really nice. Anyway, at one point Owen and Kyle lost track of each other (a rare thing). Owen ran up to Lisa and I and said to me, "Mommy, where is my twin???" I pointed to where Kyle and Joy Lin were, and Owen ran off to play with them. But this wording-- "my twin"-- was so striking to me. He didn't say, "Where is Kyle?" or "Where is my Ky Ky?" or "Where is my brother?" (all of which I've heard many times before), instead he said, "my twin." Of course being twins is a huge part of K & O's identities, they know that they are twins, they understand what twins are, etc... but I've never heard either of them use "my twin" to refer to the other. This was a first. And Owen said it so unconsciously, so unreflectively. "Where is my twin???"... somehow it just seemed so... I don't know... just so striking to hear Owen say that. I just can't even imagine what it would be like to be twins. I was thinking about it again when we were out to lunch. Eating our tacos and burritos and quesadillas the boys were fooling around with each other in their characteristic way. Braydon and I were just watching them carry on (as were most people in the restaurant), getting the biggest kick out of them. But we couldn't help but talk about what we talk about often when watching them interact--- there is something so unique about the way they are --as twins-- together. And then tonight at home I was thinking about it again as I watched them sit together watching their Curious George video. They were sitting right next to each other so that their entire sides of their bodies were touching. They always sit this way when watching a video. I watched as Kyle put his arm up and rested his elbow on Owen's shoulder, Kyle's hand touching the side of Owen's face. They sat that way for a long stretch, and I watched as Owen rubbed his cheek along Kyle's hand a couple of times -- neither of them the least bit bothered by the proximity, neither of them taking their eyes off of the t.v. Their twinship--- it is just not like any other relationship. I can't put words to it to describe it. But I have to say, that to be able to witness it so intimately, as Braydon and I get to do daily, makes for such a fascinating life. And it is such a wonder-filled blessing for us to be able to parent our twins.

Furple Pinches

Two Prefaces to this Post:
1) The photos above were actually taken just a few days before the camera died. But they could easily be from this morning's breakfast~~
2) The boys' imaginary friend, June (click here), has been waxing and waning these days. Sometimes she's with us at many moments of a day, sometimes we'll go for long stretches of days without ever hearing mention of her. She seems to be there when they need her and gone when they don't... and there's no telling when they might need her~~

This morning Braydon had to leave for work early. I was sitting at the kitchen table with Kyle and Owen, the three of us eating our breakfast. From the table you can see through large glass doors directly outside to the deck and a large birdfeeder. We have tons of beautiful birds in this part of Pennsylvania. K & O have been really into bird watching this winter, and they particularly like identifying the different kinds of birds they see. Their favorite are the bright red cardinals-- "CARD NULL!!!" they shout wildly. "Card null! Card null! Card null!" This morning the boys were making a big commotion of the fact that we were "ALL eating our breakfast!" (i.e., the three of us at the table and all the birds flocking to the birdfeeder). By halfway through our breakfast, though, still no cardinals were to be seen. So, in typical K & O fashion, rather than dwell on the disappointment, they cheerily and snappily moved right on-- "Oh man! No card nulls today! Maybe another day!!!" And then the real riot began... It was onward in the birdwatching... to the "FURPLE PINCHES!!!!!!!!!! Furple pinches! Furple pinches! Furple pinches!!!" You'd think they were watching their favorite episode of their Curious George videos-- the excitement and exuberance were that extreme. In truth it really was quite spectacular-- it was like a purple finch feeding frenzy at the birdfeeder this morning. I interrupted their "Furple Pinches" proclamations to say to them, "Yes PPPurple FFFinches! Look! So many Purple Finches!" (i.e., doing what you're supposed to do with preschool age children -- not 'correcting' them but simply repeating and enunciating the right pronunciation). This stopped them dead in their tracks. Stone faced and silent they stared at me as though I had just committed a serious infraction. All serious now, the thrill all gone, Owen says to me, exaggeratedly: "FFFurple PPPinches." Silence. Both of them still staring me right in the face. I said, calmly, "Yes, Purple Finches!" Kyle then cocks his head, turns and looks at Owen and says: "Owen, look, June likes Furple Pinches too!!!" And now it was not just two against one, but three against one. One thing I've learned over the past three years is to choose my battles. I quietly smiled at the two of them and then took another bite of my cereal. And at that K & O (and presumably June too), carried on, slap-happy, and as fun-loving and feisty as ever~~ "FURPLE PINCHES!!!!!!!!!! Furple pinches! Furple pinches! Furple pinches eating their breakfast just like we're eating our breakfast!!!!! We just loooooove furple pinches!!!"

Three Year Old Twin Boys

This photo was taken a couple of weeks ago. They suddenly really like wearing these crazy 'wigs' and when they wear them they proudly say, "We're CRAZY BOYS!!!", and they act crazy (even crazier than usual... just let your imagination run wild and you'll get a good mental picture). As a result, we find metallic strips of blue and red tinsel stuff all over the house... which is really annoying. They are so wild and so crazy.
And at the same time they are so incredibly lovey. It is quite a charismatic combination of personality traits to have. Some of their latest lovey-dovey phrases are:
"Mommy/Papi, I loooove you sooooo much."
"You are the best Mommy/Papi in the whole world!"
"Mommy/Papi, you are my special girl/boy."
"Mommy/Papi, I need my love tank filled. I need a hug. Will you fill my love tank?"
Owen has taken to lots of self-initiated kissing -- i.e., at random moments of the day he impromptu starts silently kissing Braydon or I all over our faces over and over and over and over, very passionately.
And Kyle has taken to saying the following (while cuddled up on my lap, caressing my face and hair with his hands):
"I love you my Mommy. Look at your beautiful skin. And look at your beautiful hair. And look at your beautiful eyes. I am so glad you are my mommy. I love you so." (so sweet-- and so transparent-- I've been saying this exact phrase to him repeatedly for the past three years; lovey boy.)
Then in the next moment they'll be running around like little maniacs jumping on furniture and climbing up bookshelves and sliding down banisters and screaming nonsense at the tops of their lungs. Times two. They drive our poor cat crazy, they break things, they make messes like you wouldn't believe, they do stuff they know they shouldn't do, often. And when they act in concert, using their twinship against us, double-teaming and third-wheeling us, conspiring together to undermine us, they can quickly and easily make us feel like we're seriously losing our minds (which is pretty regularly). They push our buttons and challenge our patience. And then in the next minute they melt our hearts so that we're a love-struck gooey mess desperate to give them the world. They are absolutely charming and absolutely exhausting all at the same time. They are three year old twin boys.

Twinspeak: "The Boss"

I haven't posted about Twinspeak lately, but it is still going strong between K & O. (click here for another time I posted about Twinspeak). For those of you who are parents of twins, you know all about "Twinspeak" I'm sure, but for those of you not intimately familiar with twins, remember-- the twins (at least ours) know and often use the 'correct' word(s) when not in earshot of each other, but when in the presence of each other they consistently (and in our case, always, without any exceptions ever) use the 'twinspeak' word(s) in place of the 'correct' word(s). Some of my current favorite K-&-O-Twinspeak terms are:

• Syrian Bars = Cereal Bars


• Making Smoothies = either truly making yogurt smoothies in the blender or fiddling around with the humidifiers in their rooms


• Nanny Juice = Soda


• Bonk and/or Donk = the verb to slam with one's body


• Vacation Trees = Palm Trees


• Macaroni (when used just as the single word, not in conjunction with "and cheese") = the adjective anything good


• Bunny Macaroni = the adjective anything super good


• Stinky Macaroni = the adjective anything not good or in place of the word "yucky"

The funniest Twinspeak thing of late, however, is this~~~

A couple of weeks ago the four of us were eating lunch at home on a weekend. Owen started acting up at the table. Kyle said (in a very sing-song-y, bossy tone), "Owen, remember your table manners!" Immediately I said (firmly, to Kyle), "Kyle, that is not your job," and then (firmly, to Owen), "Owen, eat your lunch and stop acting up." Kyle said, "Why that not my job?" I said, "Because you are not the Mommy, you are the Brother." Owen, acting sassy, said, "I like it when Kyle says that to me." And Kyle jumped right in, "See, he likes it when I say that to him!?!" (this is another regular theme in our house-- often when we try to scold one of them for bothering the other, the 'other' will jump in claiming that they "like it" when their brother does whatever it is that we're trying to scold him for). "O.k., listen, both of you," I said "that's enough. Kyle, you are not the boss. Owen, you are not the boss. I am the boss." They both looked at me like I was crazy. So I tried to be more clear, "In this house, I am the boss!" Very upset, Kyle retorted right away, "No! MORFAR IS THE BOSS!" I didn't quite know how to react. Braydon was just sitting there watching this whole scene unfold. I said, "O.k., at MorFar's house, he is the boss, but at our house I am the boss." Owen was clearly unsettled by this. "No!" he said, "You are not the boss, MorFar is the boss." Kyle was deeply disturbed, to say the least. "No!!!" he yelled, "No! No! No! MorFar is the boss!" I had no idea where this was coming from or where it was leading, but I wanted to cut it off right there. I leaned down to his level and looked him in the eyes like I meant business, "No, Kyle, I am the boss of this house." Since that day either K or O or both have brought up the whole "Boss" topic at least once a day. It always revolves around "MorFar is the boss." Often while driving in the car I'll hear the two of them in the backseat discussing it: "Mommy is not the boss, MorFar is the real boss." "Yes! That's right, MorFar is the boss!" Or, I'll overhear them playing together in the playroom: "The boss is MorFar, MorFar is the boss!" "Yes! That's exactly right! MorFar is the boss!" These sorts of exchanges will go on, back-and-forth, back-and-forth over and over between the two of them. Anytime the word "boss" comes up, they say "MorFar" and in the past few days I've noticed them both starting to replace the word "boss" with the word "MorFar" (as in, "We are pilots! We are the MorFar of this airplane!" or "We are pretending we are teachers! We are the MorFar of this school!!!") I have been at an utter loss as to what this is all about... wavering between ignoring it and thinking it is just nothing, to frantically fretting that it is some sort of weird twisted three-year-old boy form of patriarchal-female-disempowerment. 'Why my father?' I've thought over and over in my own mind. 'Yes, I know they worship him, but The Boss?' And 'If they insist on it being a man instead of being me, then why not Braydon, why my father?????' I've fluctuated between just brushing it off and spending lots of time trying to untangle the whole mess in my own mind. And I've kept reminding the two of them that indeed, at our house, "Mommy is the boss." Until... yesterday...

When I got home from work a package was sitting in the garage. It was addressed to Kyle and Owen. And it was from MorFar! As soon as I got in the door the boys ripped it open in two seconds flat. Inside were two stuffed Fenway Park 'Green Monsters' wearing Boston Red Sox shirts and baseball hats. The boys were thrilled beyond belief, of course. They carrried them around for the rest of the night. They pretended they were "hitting the ball." And the "Red Soxes" (as they quickly came to call them) even had to eat dinner with us at the table. At one point K & O came right up to me, in the kitchen, as I was making dinner. "See," Kyle said, pointing to the "B" on the hat of his, "see, Mommy, it is a 'B' for Bosssssston Red Sox. See!?!?!" Halfway ignoring it, I said, "Uh huh." Owen tugged at my arm, "Look, Mommy, see, from MorFar, the Bosssssssssssssston Red Sox. See, Mommy??!!" I turned to look down at the two of them. Both of them standing there, holding their "Red Soxes" looking up at me with serious determined faces. "Yes," I said, "I see." Kyle smiled smugly and said, "See, Mommy, Bosssston Red Sox! See! MorFar is the Bossssssss!" And then they both took off running, very satisfied, with their "Red Soxes," to the playroom.

Today in the Grocery Store

It seems that ever since I started going to the grocery store with K & O (which was, basically, very soon after they came home from Haiti), there is always a story to tell about each and every trip we make. For some reason it is in the grocery store that we have our most interesting (read between the lines) experiences. Today was no exception. Today, in addition to all the normal mundane stuff that occurs when you bring two three year old boys to the grocery store with you, not just one but two interesting things happened!

Setting the scene-- Huge grocery store. The boys were in the kind of cart where in between the actual food bin part of the cart and the part that you push, there is a small bench that fits two kids. K & O are sitting squeezed together and with me pushing the cart their heads were just below my head. These stories are true stories.

---

Story 1

About mid-way through the trip, at the end of one of the middle aisles, I was concentrating on trying to search an upper shelf for a specific thing on my list. I was lost in the task, not really focused on anything except trying to find this thing as quick as possible. My concentration is broken when I hear, "Hey!" Then again, "Hey?!" I look up. About halfway down the aisle is a well dressed middle aged white woman, standing with no cart or basket or anything in her hands. There are several people in between us, but she's looking directly at me saying loudly, "Hey?!!" -- apparently trying to get my attention. She's got everybody else's attention in the aisle, including K & O's. I look at her (my head just above K & O's) with a startled look of 'Are you talking to me?' on my face. She says (loud enough for me to hear, with half a long aisle and several other shoppers separating us), "Are those your kids?" I totally hear her, but do what I always do in these situations... I act like I can't hear her in order to buy myself some time to think quick (remember, in addition to the audience of other shoppers, my most important audience -- K & O -- are right there just inches away from my mouth). She belts it out louder, "Are THOSE your kids?" I nod as proudly and confidently as I can given that I'm totally nervous about what is about to unfold. She starts walking toward me very quickly and aggressively, weaving in and out of people (who are all staring at me and her) as she approaches. I conscientiously lean my body and head in tight with K & O's. As she gets within a few steps of me she suddenly stops. Looks me right in the eye. Point blank says, "Are they YOUR CHILDREN????" I say, "Yes." She says, "I thought I was hearing them call you 'mom'? Are they your kids?" I say, "Yes, they are my kids." She says, "Like, you had them???" I do what I always do in such moments (I'm pretty sure I know exactly what she's asking but I want her to be the one to feel like an idiot, not me, and definitely not K & O), I ask with a look of sincere confusion on my face, "What do you mean?" She says, "YOU had THEM?" I said, "I did not give birth to them, if that's what you mean. I adopted them, they are my kids, they were adopted." She looks at me in total shock. "Oh," she says, "I couldn't figure it out. I kept hearing them call you 'mom' and I just couldn't figure it out." I stand there silently. K & O are looking straight at her. Everyone around us now starts to pretend to be shopping in the aisle again. She says, "I know about bi-racial kids, but I've never seen kids that dark come out of a person as white as you." I smiled as sweet-fake as I possibly could and said, "Oh." She says, "I mean, they are really dark. What do they call that? Pigment? They have very dark pigment. And you're so white. I couldn't figure out how they were your kids." I looked at her and said, "They are my kids." And that was that. We kept on moving (and when I got home and was unpacking the bags I realized that I had forgotten the item I had been looking for when that whole interaction began).

---

Story 2

Totally other kind of 'story'... So, we're toward the end of the trip. The boys have been behaving very well, all things considered. I've been very focused on getting out as quickly as possible so I haven't really been watching too closely what they're doing since they're not seeming to cause any problems. We're in the bread and dairy aisle, the widest aisle. It is crowded with people and carts. I sort of anchor our cart toward the middle of the aisle and from there I start quickly gathering each item we need and then placing it in the cart. I'm going back and forth, back and forth. I start to notice some people snickering, some people openly laughing out loud, some people giving each other looks of disgust. I get nervous it is something regarding my boys. A random shopper walks by me and says, "They're twins?" I say, "Yes." He says flatly, "Wow." Another random shopper nearby says cheerily, "I had three boys who almost sent me to the insane asylum, but I'd take three boys of different ages over two twin boys any day!!!" I laugh. She says, "I'm not kidding!" From the cheese section I bend around another customer to try to peer down the aisle to check on K & O. They are sitting on the cart bench, with their bodies turned so that they are face to face. At first I think they are cutely kissing. But no. To my horror I can clearly see that they have their mouths wide open and they are french kissing. People are staring. Some people have even stopped dead in their tracks to stare. I run over to them and start pushing the cart forward. "Guys! Please! No tongues!!!" That gets a big rise out of them. They start laughing and doing it more. As I move as quickly as possible through the rest of the dairy aisle I periodically look down to see them giggling, french kissing, and licking each other all over their faces. "Guys! Guys! Please!!" I say. "What mommy? We like it!!!" they say in unison. "Who wants a cookie?!!!!!!" I say as I frantically break open a package of fig newtons from our cart.

The Weirdest Twin Thing Yet

Yesterday after I picked up the boys from school I took them to Ringing Rocks Park (click here or here or here). This park is only 10 minutes from our house, and about 5 minutes from K & O's school, but it was our first time there, and it was amazing. Exactly the kind of place K & O love: very few people so K & O could go nuts singing shouting and generally acting like their wacky selves with very little restrictions from me, woodsy places to explore, walking/hiking trails just interesting/challenging enough but not too long, big rocks everywhere to climb on and jump off of, and --jackpot!-- water/waterfalls/streams to throw rocks into. Anyway, the highlight for them was definitely running along the forest paths (which are strewn with rocks) and exploring where they'd lead. I probably heard a hundred times exclamations of "I love this place!" and "Ringing Rocks is soooo fun!" and "I can't wait to show Papi this beautiful place because he will love it just like us!!!" Anyway, the weirdest twin thing that I've observed yet kept happening... As I said, the paths were strewn with rocks (and tree roots and sticks and dips/holes/bumps in the dirt). Kyle and Owen were running ahead of me the whole time and they were usually just 3-4 feet apart from each other, either parallel to each other or one just slightly ahead/behind the other. Regardless of how they were positioned the two of them kept tripping over the rocks/roots/bumps and falling down ---like full blow flat out smack on the ground falling--- at the exact same split second moment as each other. The tripping and falling was understandable (it was rough terrain even for an able-bodied adult). But they were tripping and falling at literally the exact same split second. Every time. Over and over. As K & O do, they'd of course just jump back up, dust off, and keep running. They'd sometimes acknowledge out loud that they had both fallen -- they'd exclaim: "Two boys down!" or "Two boys fell!!!" But they just kept going acting like this was normal the whole time we were there (about 1.5 hours). At first I just thought it was a strange fluke. But as I kept watching it happen over and over (often the two of them tripping on completely different rocks/roots/bumps - sometimes 5 or 6 feet apart from each other) I started thinking it was really weird. I couldn't help but think it was some sort of twin thing. It was truly the weirdest twin thing I have observed yet.

p.s. Photo above was taken one day this week before school. Kyle is on the left, Owen is on the right. That morning they had both insisted on having "match to match" orange sippy cups for their milk. Another weird twin thing: their sporadic insistence on having matching things or wearing matching things. No matter how much I now try to dress them different they still often prefer to be dressed identical.

Love is a Patient Thing

Braydon and Kyle, in the woods on the waterfall hike Saturday

Today was another tough day. The plan all along had been for me to take today off to be home today with my boys because Alex had to take today off from nannying. But the truth is that even if she hadn't planned to take today off I would have called her to cancel this morning because Kyle wasn't better enough. The antibiotic is working but he still needs a lot of TLC from his Mama -- which means that Owen still needs to show us a lot how upset that makes him. I know I shouldn't complain about twins... God knows I wouldn't trade them for the world... but honestly, it is just hard sometimes. Moms of twins out there--- I know you know what I mean. Twins are awesomely wonderful and twins are also awesomely challenging. It is like so many things-- you really can't know 'till you've done it. I know that people think that any two kids wouldn't be all that different than twins-- but believe me, it is different. In so many ways. Thing is-- right now-- after this day-- I'm just waaaaaaaaaaaay too exhausted to try to articulate it all here. I need to get some sleep (especially given how very little sleep I've had in the past two nights). I have a ton of energy-- just naturally-- that's just me. But suffice it to say: there were moments today when I was at my breaking point... pure exhaustion combined with pure 3-year-old-twin-boys combined with one-of-those-boys-quite-sick-and-one-of-those-boys-quite-jealous challenge. I was on the verge of tears just from the extremeness of it all. There are days when I seriously think to myself: "They should just bring a film crew in here and do a whole season of Survivor: Dual Career & Twins Under One Roof." I try not to complain. I try to see the positives (it isn't hard to do-- there are simply so many positives). But every once in a while... the whole thing just kicks my butt. Braydon too. He's been on the edge for the past 48 hours. At least we're in this together and we can both roll our eyes at each other and cry (literally) on each other's shoulder from time to time. Growing up there was this one camp song that always stuck with me. Always. To this day I hummmm it to myself in moments of distress or joy. Here it is:

Love is a patient thing.
Love is a kind thing.
Love's not corroded with doubt,
Or anger.
Love is enough
When you've got nothing but love.
Love never ever runs out.

Quote of the Day: "My brother helped me!"

Kyle & Owen in the sandbox this morning

This morning before daycare the boys were playing outside in the sandbox while I was inside getting my work-bag together, coffee into my travel mug, etc. I walked onto the back deck and yelled down to them that it was time to go to daycare. Kyle yelled back to me: "Mama, I was crying for you!" I said, "Oh no! I'm sorry! I didn't hear you!" (I wasn't worried -- it couldn't have been too much crying or too loud or I definately would have heard him.) He yelled back, "But, I was crying for you." I said, "I'm sorry, Ky Ky, are you o.k.?" And he yelled back, so chipper and cheerily, "Yup! I'm o.k. Mama! My brother helped me!"

"I Broke It."

Scariest part about having 2 year old twins... those times when you seriously just cannot be in two places at once and you seriously need to be. This morning, for whatever reason, Owen decided to remove his own diaper (which had a huuuuuge poop in it). Luckily, I caught him in the act just in time. I was in the kitchen and I heard him in the playroom saying to himself, "Whoa Owen! Biiiiig poopie in there! Whoa Owen!!!" I ran in as fast as I possibly could. He's been so good at potty training lately but every once in a while he's just way too busy to bother with the toilet (why take the time to do that when you can just conveniently unload right in your diaper?!) Anyway... I had Owen lying on the floor of the playroom while I tried to contain the situation (so to speak), and clean him up. Very shortly into this I heard Kyle's little pitter patter of feet disappear somewhere off of the kitchen (I figured he was going to do something he should not do in either the laundry room or the bathroom). I yelled out, "Kyle?!" and he did not respond. I could hear him moving about, up to no good. I yelled louder, "Kyle? Where are you?" and again he did not respond. I shouted out, "You better not make Mommy mad!!" At that point, I was into about wipe #21 with Owen, frantically trying to move as quickly as humanly possible, knowing that Kyle was definately doing something he should not do in either the laundry room or the bathroom. It took about 51 wipes to finally clean up the Owen situation. At around wipe #45 Kyle emerged on the scene appearing ever-so-innocent as he looked on at the Owen-clean-up-wrap-up. From about wipe #46 through about wipe #51 this is the conversation that occured (Kyle and I leaning over Owen, who is lying on the floor with his legs spread):

Owen: Kyle, what you were doing?
Kyle: Oh, I was in the bathroom.
Owen: Kyle, what you were doing in the bathroom? You did a pee pee?
Kyle: Nope!
Heather: Kyle, tell Mama-- what were you doing in the bathroom?
Kyle: Um, I was in there.
Heather: Yes, doing what???
Kyle: Um, I was playing a little bit in there.
Heather: Oh God, I'm scared to see this.
Owen: Oh God!
Heather: Owen, I said Oh gosh!
Owen: Oh. O.k. Oh gosh!
Heather: Yes, that's how we say it -- oh gosh!
Kyle: I broke it.
Heather: Oh God, what?!
Owen: Oh God!
Kyle: I broke it.
Heather: Oh gosh.
Owen: Oh God!
Heather: O.k., o.k., listen to me-- boys-- go play. Go play. And be good. I'll be right back.

Seriously, my heart was racing as I entered the bathroom. What I found was not nearly as bad as I had imagined. The toilet paper roll on the wall was completely empty. There was an additional completely empty paper roll sitting on the counter. The toilet was completely-overflowing-full-of-toilet-paper and endlessly-running-but-not-able-to-flush. I locked the door, pulled out mounds and mounds of soaking wet toilet paper, and then cleaned the bathroom up. As I was about to unlock the door I paused to look at myself in the mirror. I thought, "O.k., this isn't that bad. Not that bad at all. At least some of my make-up is still in place. And my outfit has no poop on it, just toilet water drip spots. O.k. Wait, where are they now???" As I ran to try to find them I checked my watch. 8:03 a.m. My first meeting of the day is at 9:00. Just another Manic Monday.

Car Wash

I just had to post this photo because I always want to remember this because I just think it is one of the most precious little things in the world and because I want to be able to remember to tell Kyle and Owen about this when they are bigger --> K & O love to go through the car wash but whenever we go through a car wash they are both loving it and a teensy weensy bit scared about it at the same exact time --> and from their car-seats they reach out their hands to one another across the back seat of the car and they hold hands through the entire car wash. I happened to have the camera with me in the car on Saturday so I grabbed it to take this photo while we were inside the car wash.

(note: you can click on this photo to see it larger)

Twin Speak & Quote of the Day: "Underpants"

Back in January I wrote a post about "TwinSpeak" (click here for that post). Lately I've been thinking a lot about TwinSpeak because Kyle and Owen are suddenly so very, very verbal. Sometimes I almost can't even believe it myself, but seriously-- I can have full blown conversations with them now!!! And every, every, every, every single day they say something so funny that I'm almost peeing my pants laughing. Their language is so sophisticated now that I rarely don't understand them. They are totally capable of verbally communicating just about everything that they want to convey. And yet they still have certain TwinSpeak words that they both use; little remnants of their TwinSpeak; specific words that Kyle and Owen -- as twins -- have developed and use; unique words that only each other (and sometimes Braydon, or I, or other people who spend a lot of time with them) understand. One of the most fascinating parts about TwinSpeak is how twins continue to refer to certain things in their specific "twinspeak"-way long after they know-and-are-fully-capable-of referring to those things in the "correct" way. For example...

Despite being fully aware of the "correct" way of saying these things, and despite being fully capable of saying these things "correctly," when speaking with each other or in each other's presence (and only then), Kyle and Owen both still consistently say:

• unck (pronounced, with a grunt, "uh-en-ck!") = orange (the color)
• bulgadada (pronounced, "bull-ga-da-da") = bulldozer
• fird beeder = bird feeder
• whooping crane = whipped cream

Note: if they are on their own, out of ear shot of the other, they will say each of these words "correctly."

Tonight a funny TwinSpeak thing happened. There is some background info that is necessary here--- 1) Since we're really in the throws of some semi-serious potty training, lately we've been talking a lot about underpants around here. Mostly this is in the context of me saying things like, "Look boys! I wear underpants! I don't wear diapers! I don't wear pull-ups! I wear underpants!!!" The boys, especially Owen, are very interested in the whole concept of underpants. 2) For a long time I have had a koosh ball basketball hoop in my office, but it has gone unused for years. Late this afternoon I had the boys in my office with me and to occupy them I got out the basketball hoop for them to shoot koosh balls into. They loved it and I decided I may as well bring it home for them. When we got home I set it up in the kitchen.

So, this evening as I was making dinner Kyle and Owen were trying to throw balls into the basketball hoop in the kitchen. Here's what transpired:

Owen: Look Kyle, underpants!

[I hear this and kind of giggle to myself. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Owen with his hands down and his head looking down -- I figure he's pretending he has underpants on, or something like that]

Kyle: Yes! Underpants Owen!

Owen: Kyle, I can do underpants! Not you! Just me! I can do underpants!

Kyle: [annoyed/mad] No Owen, I can do underpants too!

Owen: No! Not you! Not you Kyle! Just Owen do underpants! You can't do underpants! You can't!

Kyle: [now really very annoyed/mad] No Owen! I can do underpants!

Owen: No! Not you! No underpants for you!

[at this point I know I need to intervene -- a major brawl is about to break out any second -- so I stop what I'm doing with dinner prep and start to move toward them]

Kyle: [now in full-body meltdown mode, about to physically attack his brother] No Owen! No! I can do underpants! Underpants for me too! Yes! Underpants!

Owen: [running for dear life away from Kyle, and starting to lose it] No underpants for you Kyle!

Me: BOYS! BOYS! BOYS! STOP IT!!!!!! Owen and Kyle, both boys can have underpants when both boys go on the potty like big boys.

Owen: No mama.

Kyle: Mama, NO!

Me: Yes! You can both have underpants when you're ready. Right now you have no underpants.

Owen: [now in a complete hysteric state, on the verge of a total emotional breakdown] No, no, no, mommy, no! Only Owen can do underpants.

Me: [I feel like I'm now on the scene of some sort of crazy toilet-training mediation stake-out] Owen, you are doing so good on the potty. But Kyle will get underpants too, when Kyle is ready.

Kyle: Mommy, watch this! [He has found the koosh ball and is holding it over his head. I turn to watch him as he throws it up toward the hoop]

Me: [feeling very relieved at this sign that they will potentially soon be distracted enough by the basketball hoop to drop the whole underpants thing] Wow Kyle! Great job!

Owen: Mommy, watch this! [He takes the koosh ball and holds it dramatically down between his legs, he then proceeds to very dramatically throw it up toward the hoop]

Me: Wow Owen! Great job!

Kyle: See mommy??? Underpants! Owen can do underpants!!!

Owen: Yes! And not Kyle! Kyle can't do underpants! Only Owen!

Me: Oh! You mean underhand?!!! Owen can throw the ball underhand!

[They both look at me like I'm stupid.]

Owen: Yes, underpants.

Kyle: [saying it slowly] U-n-d-e-r-p-a-n-t-s.

Me: You say, underhand.

[They both blatantly blow me off and turn away from me.]

Owen: Look Kyle, underpants!

Kyle: Yes! Underpants Owen!

Owen: Kyle, I can do underpants!

Kyle: Yes Owen! You do underpants! Watch this Owen...

..... and they continue playing as though nothing ever happened.....

Kyle This Weekend

Kyle had an awesome weekend. For whatever reason (it really is a mystery to us), he was in an *incredibly* good mood all weekend long. Not that Kyle isn't in a good mood all the time -- he is! -- Kyle is "Mr. Happy Go Lucky" 24 x 7. But for the past two days he's been even more happy-happy-happy than usual. All weekend he was hopping and skipping around, beaming with smiles, humming and singing to himself, and cheerily greeting every single person we encountered everywhere we went: "Hi! What's your name?!" Lately Owen has been more extroverted and gregarious, and Kyle has often been taking a back seat to his brother's constant one-man-comedy-show. Not that Kyle isn't extroverted and gregarious and funny himself -- he is! -- Kyle has always been Super Flirt Numero Uno all day every day. But lately he's been just a bit subdued and letting Owen dominate the spotlight.

I am saying "lately" here because Braydon and I have always noticed that these things seem to go back-and-forth and the boys' dynamic seems to shift seamlessly over time. It is a twin thing and these ebbs and flows in their personality dynamics are really absolutely fascinating and amazing to witness. It is almost as if they take turns trying on different aspects of their personalities, stepping up and holding back, being the "____ [fill in the blank] one" and being the "____ [fill in the blank] one." That's why whenever anybody says, "Oh! So, he's the ____ [fill in the blank] one?!" We say, "Only for this particular moment!" Anyway... Kyle was extremely happy and outgoing and charismatic this weekend.

And... he was quite the little Mischief Maker too. For example... This past week Braydon's mother had come to visit and before she left on Friday she had left a birthday present on the counter for the boys. There were two packages, both wrapped with paper and ribbons. On Saturday morning Kyle had been eyeing it and asked Braydon many times if he could open them. Braydon said that he could not, that he had to wait until their birthday. This little question and answer session was repeated multiple times on Saturday morning. Later in the morning Braydon was in the shower and I was "in charge" of the boys. I had to run upstairs to get something out of Owen's room and told them I'd be "right back!" I was only out of the room for 3 minutes max, but by the time I returned Kyle had got both presents down from the kitchen counter, had unwrapped both of them, and was inspecting the goods. I grabbed the camera---Here is what I found:

New Shoes and Afternoon Nap

Today I finally broke down and bought the boys "Crocs" (click here for crocs). They love 'em. We all four think they're pretty darn cute... especially with the little button-y thingys that the boys have in 'em... "Jibbitz" (click here for jibbitz). Owen has a football, baseball, basketball, peace sign, and a bumble bee; Kyle has a smiley face, soccer ball, ying-yang sign, and three penguins. Owen, in particular, loves his. In fact you can't tell from the picture below, but he's wearing his crocs in his sleep for his afternoon nap. The nap is adorable today -- I rocked each of them to sleep and laid them down together in Owen's bed. They're snuggled up real close together and when I listened closely I heard that old familiar sound of their breathing in synch. They used to breathe like that in their sleep as babies when their cribs were so close together. That in-synch-breathing always makes me wonder about my boys as twins and think about how they've been together forever, even in their birthmother's womb. Sometimes this pair is so sweet and darling that I almost can't even stand it --- I sometimes feel like my heart might explode. Today's one of those days.

Top Ten: Warped Mindset Reprise - "Do They Make...?"

A few weeks ago I wrote a post called "The Warped Mindset of a Mama of Twin Two-Year-Old Whippersnappers" (click here to read that post). In it I confessed some not-so-flattering things that had recently gone through my mind. Several people have told me that they are still laughing about this post-- especially #10 ("Do they make those dog 'Invisible Fence' things for children???") The funniest thing about #10, for me, is that I actually have thoughts like that a lot -- thoughts that start with "Do they make..."

So, on this dreary rainy Friday afternoon, as the academic year is really starting to take its toll on us, and we're all ready for a vacation (even though we still have many weeks to go before we'll get one), here's another Heather confessional.

My Top Ten "Do They Make..." Questions (True Deep Thoughts From the Past Few Weeks):

1. "Do they make plastic light bulbs?"
2. "Do they make childproofed car keys?"
3. "Do they make very large (like, maybe 1 foot x 1 foot) sponges?"
4. "Do they make child gates that cover the full height and width of door openings?"
5. "Do they make steel window screens?"
6. "Do they make toilet pee pee guards that can be installed to block off the entire rest of the bathroom?"
7. "Do they make those installable-dog-cat-in-out-door-flap-things large enough for a small child to fit through?"
8. "Do they make waterproof telephones?"
9. "Do they make a 'Twin' version of the 'Diaper Genie'?"
10. "Do they make something to muffle the sound of a djembe drum? If so, where can I purchase two of them?"

Rice Krispie Treats

Today after daycare Kyle, Owen, and I made rice krispie treats. Whoa. What a "treat" to try to "cook" with this pair!!!? (note the sarcasm) I'm not sure if it is the twin thing? or simply a two two-year-olds together in the kitchen thing? or a super high energy boy thing? or just a Kyle-and-Owen thing? But whatever it is... I'll just put it this way: It took me a LOT longer to clean up our mess than it took for us to make it. I've tried cooking with the boys a few times and each time it is the same (today included) -- It is a lot of fun, involves a lot of damage control, and it always ends with me deciding that it will be a while before I attempt any cooking with them again.

New T-Shirts, Part II

Last Tuesday Braydon posted about the Diego and Thomas t-shirts I had bought for the boys (click here for that post). He ended his story about the shirts with this -- "However, all is not settled. When I was putting Owen to bed, he whispered to me: 'Papi, I want Diego shirt.'" For Braydon to end his post by saying, "All is not settled" was putting it mildly. Owen was in uttermost dispair over this whole thing. Seriously. His poor little heart was broken over this. What had started as a quick fun t-shirt purchase had seemingly turned into some sort of dramatic saga. What's a mom to do? As I saw it, here were my best options:

1. Give the t-shirts away to the Goodwill, pretend the entire thing never happened, and just hope that the boys forget about the Diego shirt. {At first this seemed reasonable -- the t-shirts were, afterall, on sale for $3 each at the Toys R Us. However, I felt pretty sure that Kyle was not going to forget about that Diego shirt... which was confirmed since he asked to wear it again the next day... and the next, and the next, and the next.}
2. Let Owen wear the Diego shirt, knowing full well this would just kill Kyle. {But, I had already told Kyle the Diego shirt was his shirt. And I'd just hate to not keep my word with something as monumentally huge as this Diego shirt was in his mind.}
3. Let Kyle keep wearing the shirt and just force Owen to suffer through it. Perhaps this could be a "teachable moment"??? -- maybe Owen needs to learn that you can't always get want you want, life is not fair, stuff happens that just stinks sometimes, etc., etc., etc. Maybe he just has to learn to suffer through his jealousy and learn to live with it?? Maybe this is just one of those hard things about being twins that he's gotta learn to cope with??? {Ugh, this just didn't feel right. Yes, they are spoiled. But no, they aren't rotten -- at least not yet. Surely, someday soon I'm going to have to stop spoiling them like I do. But why do I have to start now????????? Note: please don't actually answer that question. I don't really want to know anybody's thoughts on that.}
4. Buy another Diego shirt. {This seemed like by far the best option.}

O.k., so buy another shirt. I thought of going back to that Toys R Us -- but then remembered that there was only one of those darn Diego t-shirts in their size -- the one I had bought for Kyle. So, I did what I'd like to think many mothers in my specific situation would do (perhaps I'm in a totally delusionary state here -- please I ask you to not start sending me anonymous blogger hate mail telling me how wrong I am about this -- I'd like to remain in a delusionary state about this)... So, I began scouring the internet. You'd think it would be super easy to find a Diego t-shirt in size 4T, right?? I mean, Diego is, afterall one of the most popular toddler branding phenomenons out there right now, right?? Just a couple clicks and my credit card number, right?? Heck no. The thing is, there were particulars that needed to be in place for this purchase: it had to be a short sleeved t-shirt, preferably not in orange, the image of Diego had to be on the shirt, and... here's the real kicker: "Baby Jaguar" also had to be on the shirt. I spent far too long surfing the web... But in the end... I found it! I had it express shipped. It arrived a couple days ago. Braydon got it washed. And ta-da!!! The boys got to wear their Diego shirts! You would have thought they had died and gone to heaven (both of 'em -- Kyle included). So now, after $27 (ah! the irony! remember, the original shirt was on the clearance rack for $3), I end this post with the following -- which at least for the time being is a 100% accurate description of reality here in the Johnson-McCormick homestead. No motherly delusions or anything:

All is settled.