A More Fun Update

So, imagine my chagrin after I posted my seemingly witty and insightful (by my standards) update about how much easier it gets when the kids get older and then realizing as I go back, that, umm, I pretty much wrote that same post in April. And my April post was only 3 or 4 posts ago.

Wow.

That's pathetic.

The thing is, I'm writing tons, just not here. I'm updating facebook, twitter, Google +, and my professional blog (all are available through a google search), but I'm not doing much here. And when I do post here, it's repetitive.

WELL NO MORE! At least for today.

What do you come here for? Updates on kids and what it's like to be a crazy working mother of three. Here goes.

Conor is having a very lazy summer. There is a bit more TV watching than I am going to admit, which we believe has lead to an increase in sarcastic responses to the parental units. So ix-nay the ickelodean-nay. Even Nick Jr. But yes, I am letting him watch Looney Tunes and Tom and Jerry and even a little Scooby Doo. On the one hand, it's not PBS. On the other, it's so engaging that the child will spend 15 minutes re-telling and re-enacting the entire story for me. The most animated conversations I've ever had with Conor involve cartoons.

I now know as much about Tom and Jerry as I do about Conor's entire kindergarten year. It must be a guy thing because although I watched Tom and Jerry as a child, I never knew which one was which. When Dave and I were talking about this, Dave said "Well, of course, Tom is the cat." It never occurred to me. Then again, Dave can quote Bugs Bunny ("I should have taken that left at Albuquerque") and still does.

Bridget continues to blow my mind and explode my heart. Some parents, like Ayelet Waldeman, love their husband more than their children. I love my husband very much. But I fall in love with my children on a daily basis. Bridget is amazing. Her vocabulary and pronunciation is well beyond what it should be at this age. And her will! Her strong sense of self! Her hatred of bees! Wha?

Apparently at school this week, the teacher heard Bridget yelling NO! NO! and thought she was having a fight. Indeed, she was: a fight with a bee! She was smacking the bee on her arm with a spoon and yelling No! No! at it stung her. The teacher got the bee off her arm and Bridget cried just a bit. And then went back to eating her breakfast. No Damn Bee is going to get the best of my girl!

She is so strong willed and determined to let everyone know what she thinks that when our (still alive and perhaps not deaf) cat gets on our bed at night (after a 5 year absence in which we actually didn't miss her) and meows/howls until we pet her, Bridget will wake up in the morning, get in the cat's face, and say loudly NO! NO! That Scarlett (the cat) is also known as Psycho Kitty and is afraid of this imp should tell you something.

Bridget likes to tell Patches that he is a Good Dog! She told us this week what she wanted to wear "tomorrow"---actually saying "tomorrow". She blows us away and I cannot wait to get to know her better as more of her personality develops. (Although that statement alone conjures up scary images. More!? MORE!?!)

Christopher has become my best surprise. There is so much going on inside of his head. Of all three children, he has the deepest and quickest emotions--which reminds me of an adult in this house and it's not Dave. He can go from Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy to melting in .3 seconds. And his scowly face! I love it!! If it's a new situation or person, do not expect a smile. But don't be offended if you get the scowly face. Of course, as soon as we call him on it, it's a grin. But it shocks most people to begin with.

I am pretty sure I've talked about his sugar spot already---that place on his neck that is my favorite place to kiss in the world. All I have to do is ask for it, and he laughs and yells NO!! And runs, fully expecting me to chase him and eat him up. Christopher is also very funny--and Conor does not like to hear us say that. Still, Christopher can crack us up, with his sneaky grin and an impish look in his eye as he takes off running and swinging his one arm. I don't know why he does that, but when he Runs Hard, he bends his right arm and pumps it back and forth as he runs. That's how we can tell he's Running Hard. And if he's just standing there and pumping his arm, then we know he's dancing.

He also sings a lot. There are two favorite songs: Hello Everybody from school (Bridget "sings" it too. Actually, she just yells it) and Daddy's Home! (one of my original tunes that involves clapping and, well, you know the words already). And then there's the tweaking. Both the twins are obsessed with boobage. Mine, mostly, but here lately, Christopher has taken to lifting his own shirt and tweaking himself. That is odd. We are open to the children exploring their own bodies and appreciating them, but this one is just weird (not to be too judgmental about it). Any level of anxiety and that child whips his shirt up and tweaks his nipp.

I'm assuming this is a phase and we won't have this issue in high school. NONETHELESS. I was expecting touching in, ahem, other places and have the stock supportive yet directive sentence to use with the older boy in the house (WHICH I STILL SAY 5 TIMES A DAY), but "I know that feels good, but do that in private in your room or the bathroom" really doesn't seem to fit with a nipple tweaking.

In any case, I'm sure Christopher will be glad in the future that I've shared that. (As will Conor).

Finally, Me. Dave can update his own dadbum blog. (Or just a facebook status, honey!) I am enormous. I am the fattest I've been in my life without having a couple of other humans inside of me. Those two years of eating all I wanted while pg and breastfeeding were great. Unfortunately, as the twins stopped eating so much of me, I didn't stop eating so much of everything else. I'm sort of eating less and sort of exercising more, but so far no weight has escaped. I just discovered how much fun it is for Conor to go on a bike ride with me while I run. That's actually A LOT of fun and it's been tough to run without him.

This week's adventure involved finding the house where is best neighborhood friend is moving to. It's very close to where we are now, so we ran/biked past it. I got so excited when I saw their house that I missed the uneven sidewalk. Actually, I didn't miss it. I hit it dead on. This is the 3rd time in over 20 years that I've fallen while running. All three times, everything goes very slowly right after I trip. My thoughts speed up and slow down at the same time. "Uh-oh. I could fall. I am falling. I could catch myself. Can I catch myself? Whoops. No." Whacka whacka thunk. Knees, pelvis, hands, face. Thunk.

The outcome is that I clearly landed on my left knee first and it is currently covered in Winnie the Pooh bandaids. I somehow landed on my pelvis (?) and have an enormous bruise on my hooha. Seriously! Who bruises their hooha when they fall? I'm blaming the twins and my c-section and my lack of any sort of lower stomach muscles on that one. Otherwise, I am so uncoordinated and unconventionally contorted when I fall that people actually SHOULD point and laugh when I run by. Or get out of my way. Finally, my face has a couple of sidewalk rashes and I bruised my cheek.

I am very pretty right now. A bruised tomato on toothpicks, although at this weight, more like straws.

So now you have a blog post more like what I used to write. It takes a long time to write like this and I have a boatload of other things to write---including my REAL work--journal articles. But sometimes, I have to get these things out of my head--the things that keep me from going to sleep at night. In any case, now it's time to go write on Virtual Health Communities, which actually is sort of fun right now.

Happy New Year!

So much for my plan of posting every week!

I hope your new year is going well. December was a bit rough around here. The kids were sick the first two weeks and out of school the last two weeks. They started back this week (WOOOHOOOHOO) and I've finally had a break. But my "break" has involved getting caught up on work and prepping for my classes--including one that is a new prep for me and will be the last time the class is offered. Nothing like seeing lots of hard work go for naught.

In any case, there is so much to share with folks, well, actually just to put in this blog so I remember it. I will start with Christopher, since he has been the focus of our attention with his 18 month sleep regression--and subsequent waking up every 2 hours.

There is a spot on Christopher's cheek, just above his jaw, that is so soft and mushy that it is the best spot to kiss I've found on any human being. Kissing that spot (and I kiss it a lot) is one of the highlight's of my day.

Another Christopher feature, less kissable, is his habit of pooping while in down dog position. Oh, indeed-y, it is clearly obvious when Christopher is doing his thing when he looks like he's creating a new down dog/plank merge. Nonetheless, the poop I want to remember forever (truly) involves 5 to 10 minutes of dramatic down dog producing yoga one tiny, yet perfect, still solid and recognizable blueberry.

Have I mentioned how much he likes blueberries? He would gladly eat a complete pint if we let him. Apparently, he was so stuffed on that day that one popped out. (Pooped out!!)

Ah, yes. He is an adorable little boy. We actually call him Kisstopher frequently because of how much he likes to kiss and be kissed. His cousins have suggested that we drop that nickname before he hits high school. Well, I guess so. It actually might work to his advantage. But we'll wait.

I am seriously thinking of starting to blog more "other thing" topics here, such as psychological research (have you heard about that new ESP study? Fascinating!!) I'd also like to start talking more explicitly on the difficulties of being a working mother, even with the flexible job that I have. I'm not sure what audience these topics will attract, and if I really want those audiences to learn so much about my infertility, miscarriages and breastfeeding exploits. ALTHOUGH, I'm not ashamed of any of them and the more we talk about this stuff out in the open, the more it will be normal.

In any case, I'll actually have to BLOG. I want to. And if I'm doing it about work stuff, I'll feel less guilty doing it before all the kids have gone to sleep.

5th and Poop

Continuing my goals to just post when I have time, here's my second post of the day. Since this morning, oh, joy!, we have figured out that both Bridget and Christopher have 5th disease. In the scheme of things, that's not a big deal. It's just a common virus in which the main symptom (besides a fever that lasts for the normal 3 days o' virus fever) is the bright red cheeks.

However, it's just one more thing to add on the list of reasons why tonight's sleep is going to be crappy tonight.

And in the goals of catching up on all the exciting things that have happened, let me share the story of The Poop In the Tub. Really, I don't know how to build up that story much beyond One of My Children Pooped In the Tub. That's pretty much the high (low) light of any story. It was Christopher and I should have known it was coming when he assumed the position.

Christopher is very picky on how he poops--which is in a yoga position--down dog to be exact. It's obvious when it's happening; yes it is when a child gets a determined look in down dog. I should have acted more quickly when he got in that position in the tub, but I thought he was reaching for a toy. Yet, he was not.

That's one of those things you just wish never really happened. Oh, yes. But still. It's a good story, right? Good time or good story. That's become our motto around here.

Soccer

So yes, we remain busy around here. With an active and exciting life. (The irony in that statement will become apparent later on) Why, just Friday night, both babies (ok, they are toddlers now), both toddlers had one mighty explosive puke each and the dog ate our dinner right off the table.

And we have recently decided to take a 3 to 6 month hiatus from eating out at restaurants. Bridget absolutely cannot sit in her chair when we are out any more. She *has* to go around to every table and wave "Hi!" to the people sitting there. Yes, she is adorable and yes everyone melts when she arrives at their table. But it's getting too much and we're afraid her light-of-1000 suns cuteness will wear out for others sooner than it will for us.

Christopher continues to blow us away. Apparently, he has become the leader in his daycare class. He picks up whatever the other children drop and give it to them. When they are playing in the sandbox, he hugs every child in there. And when they come back in from the playground, he leads all the children over to the sink to wash their hands.

I have to be honest with you: it's overwhelming enough to fall in love with one child every day. My head and heart are going to explode falling in love with 3 children day in and day out. That part between Conor and the twins--the 8 miscarriages---that part sucked. But this part is extra-special sweet.

So, umm, soccer! Yeah.

Conor has started playing soccer and it is really a lot of fun. First, at 99.9th percentile height, it is relatively easy to pick him out on the field. Second, Conor has perfected an advanced move to psych the opposing team out while he plays: skipping. Perhaps you saw that at the world cup this year? No? Really? Additionally, Conor has an innate enthusiasm about life (from me) and very long arms (from Dave). Let's just say, that while he is skipping, his arms are also wildly swinging about in happiness for playing the game. He is noticeable.

He is also not aggressive out there. He is not a ball-hog and keeps a fair distance from the action as if he has been told to play defense. (He has not) So during the first game, when out of nowhere he ran through the crowd and with a sliding-on-the-ground kick kept the opponent's ball from scoring, we were a wee bit surprised. So was he, we noticed, as he stayed in that position for a few beats replaying his defensive move in his head and looking towards us, grinning, to see if we noticed. Yes. Yes we did, we cheered to him.

He has since, in the last two games, scored a couple of goals and is gaining some confidence. He seems to really enjoy it and the nights after practice or a game, he goes to bed quite easily. Yay! Easy bedtimes are a cause for celebration around here.

We also enjoy getting to see other kids and experience the range of normal. Our favorite story thus far involves a sweet boy on the first night of practice. Let me preface this by saying that Conor's old teacher told us that 6 years old is a preview for puberty. If that's true, we are screwed. I never thought that 10% of the utterances I made to my son would be some variation of "keep your hands off your penis." We are MUCH more discreet than that and we don't want to introduce any shame to a natural act, but there are only so many times one can say such a thing before one wants to shout "STOP DOING THAT!" (which we never have)

So back to soccer practice. Perhaps you can guess where I am going with this.

Dave was standing near the boy's nanny as called him over in the middle of practice. She told him they needed a code word that she could shout out to him during practice so that he would stop "touching his pants."

The boy thought very deeply for minute. Then he suggested to her "How about: Let go of the tiger tail?"

I will wait for you to stop laughing. And I will brag on both my husband and the nanny that neither of them laughed (out loud) at that child. Indeed, the nanny just matter of factly said to the boy, "How about: Tiger tail."

Tiger tail, indeed. Dave and I have routinely been shouting Tiger Tail to each other around the house and for no reason mentioned previously except that it makes us laugh really hard.

I continue to blog that it's crazy around here. You should continue to think that. Sometimes, it still shocks me that we have twins. That we have 3 children! And that we're only at the beginning of this crazy ride. Ah, well. It's crazy but it's our brand of crazy and so far it's still pretty good.

Firsts

Conor, in his school uniform, on his first day of school.

Bridget on her first day of daycare.

Christopher on his first day of daycare.

Things are going well. Conor learned the French ABCs today and has been practicing saying Bonjour to all of us. We are still working out his bus issues, but it will be fixed soon.

Bridget and Christopher are having a rough time in daycare. Bridget is miserable there and perfectly fine at home. Christopher is ok there, and clingy to the extreme at home. He's actually really mad at me when I come to pick him up and, honestly, he melts into tears from the time I arrive until we get in the car. I think that's when he realizes I'm not leaving him. Their teachers are WONDERFUL and, as we asked, they are holding Bridget pretty much all day long. Things are actually getting better for her, and hopefully, they'll get better for Christopher soon.

It's all good. It's all the right things. And I'm having a lot of fun at work making progress on research projects and projects outside of the university. Work=fun is amazing.

9:30 and time for bed. We're back on marathon training schedule to get the kids to school. We're just not running now.

Life With Twins

Do you want to know what life with twins is like? Do you want to know why Mothers of Multiples (MOMS) say it's much harder than you can imagine? Let me share this story with you.

Let's say you have a twin, a twin with floppy windpipe, something that while noisy is not that dangerous. Unless the child develops croup. At this point, it is prudent to put this child on prednisone to reduce the swelling in the throat and help the child breathe. This is a good thing. There is just one caveat: the major side effect of hyperactivity. Let's, hypothetically, call this twin: Christopher.

So on a Friday night when Christopher's twin sister falls asleep at 7:30, Christopher is a whirling dervish around the family room, giddily playing with every toy he can and manically running back and forth along the room until, oh, say 10:30. On the second night of medication, his parents look up whether benadryl can be given along with prednisone and, lo and behold, IT CAN! So on Saturday night, Bridget passes completely out at 7:30 and Christopher is only up until 9:30.

Not being slow, the parents of a twin on prednisone will, on the third and final night of medication, give benadryl right after dinner. And HOORAY! Christopher goes to sleep at exactly the right bedtime of 7:30. And so does his sister! Hooray! Hooray!

But that's not what it's like to be parents of twins. No. The twin god laughs when both babies go to sleep at the same time after two hellish nights. Nope, life with twins means that the sister twin wakes up at 7:50 and refuses to go back to sleep. With just one child, a) we would be enjoying a free night tonight or b) we would have enjoyed two previously free nights. But instead, we have one child peacefully sleeping and another happily playing, having had two amazing nights of sleep under her belt.

So, there. We were away for a good 11 day trip to see Dave's family in the midwest. AND WE DROVE! Yes! 6 days in the car for an 11 day trip. It wasn't as bad as you might imagine, and there were a couple of unexpected highlights including a hotel bathroom that opened into the bedroom and zooming (and subsequent squeals of laughter from the kids) over Ohio hills in Amish country. There was also an AMAZING thunderstorm and 12 straight hours of lightening. There was so much continuous lightening at one point that I thought a police car was outside the house and the lights were flashing through the window.

More, more, more to share. Christopher is walking now and has been for two weeks. Conor starts kindergarten in three weeks. The twins start daycare (AND NOT A MOMENT TOO SOON) in 4 weeks.

I'm not giving up this blog. I know I say that every (rare) time I update. I'm not ready to give it up yet. I am ready for a little more free time, but I have no control over when that is going to happen again.

Why, Hello There!

Yes, yes, still around. Not leaving. Hopefully, when things settle down in August as far as kindergarten and daycare, I'll have a little more space to get back to blogging. (To document my life? To work out troublesome issues? To help others?) I'm sure the reasons will evolve, but let's consider today a Documenting Blog.

Let's review the last 7 days, shall we? (feel free to scan the first sentence of each paragraph to hit the highlights and get out of this long entry)

Last Tuesday, Conor lost his first baby tooth. I'm not sure when it's supposed to start but his lost his at 5 years and 10 months. And not only that, his first permanent tooth is coming in and, indeed, is what knocked out his baby tooth. And if it's incoming position is any indication---braces are in our future.

Last Wednesday, Bridget took her first 6 steps. It was the first time she had taken more than a few steps while cruising. Even more exciting, Dave and I got to see it together. That's not always the case if you're not a SAHM or a SAHD, so we were pretty psyched. By Thursday, she was walking across rooms. Christopher was not amused at all the attention she was getting and by Thursday afternoon, every time we cheered for Bridget, he performed what we call Trick #2: Clapping his hands. So it became a cheer-a-thon of being excited for Bridget and rewarding Christopher for clapping. (Do think think there's sibling rivalry? By Friday, Bridget had figured out how to clap and Christopher was taking 2 steps before falling forward into the closest person's arms)

On Friday, Conor graduated from preschool. I had expected that I would weep at the passage of my little boy out of the daycare we have loved since he was 4 months old. (Conor is staying home the rest of the summer with the nannies and then with me when I take July off work) No. I cried as some of Conor's special needs classmates triumphantly performed in the graduation ceremony just as well and enthusiastically as Conor's "typical" classmates did. (Ummmm, everyone did)

Sunday was the twins' first birthday party. It was a lot of fun and pretty cool that we were able to invite a lot of neighbors over with their children who are about the same age as the twins. Conor was the only baby in the 'hood when he was born. Now, we have 3 1 year olds within a 5 house radius. That's exciting.

On the other hand, remembering back to what happened a year ago when the twins were born was not a lot of fun. In fact, I was sad. My twins are perfectly happy and healthy now. And they are at least developmentally caught up if not ahead. But the day they were born sucked. I got to see them for 10 minutes total that day and they were covered in tubes and wires and did not look like healthy babies. EVERYTHING TURNED OUT FINE. I know. But that is not what parents have in mind when they think about their babies' arrival.

So where are we?

OK--Monday, the babies had their first year check ups. Christopher is clocking in at 80th percentile weight and 85th percentile height. He is 4 ounces less than what Conor weighed at one year...and one inch taller. YIKES. He is going to be huge. Bridget remains at 15th percentile weight, but 50th percentile height!! She is a skinny baby with ginormous feet, if I have to describe her.

So yes, that has been my last 7 days. There was also a baby shower in there and some massive cake decorating going on (must post pictures), but you get the idea.

I am also teaching summer school (love it) and Conor is out of school for the rest of the summer. (There are a few camps coming up, but he's going to have fun and goof off this summer before school starts)

I do have more to say, but honestly, I hate reading long blog entries. And Conor and I are reading Charlotte's Web together, so it's time for me to go.

What A Week

Sometimes, I have to work really hard to come up with the prose to make things sound interesting around here. And sometimes, it sort of writes itself.

Obviously, you can be the judge of whether our last week has been as eventful as I think or whether I should have spent a bit more time, effort and actually grown some talent to make it seem more compelling.

Let's just go chronologically, shall we? Friday, Nanny #2 and I were discussing a blister/sore that Nanny #1 had noticed on Bridget on Thursday. I had said, on Thursday, "Oh, she must be sucking her hands and fingers and got a blister. Babies do that when they're born, you know." Then Nanny #2 said, "Wow, it really looks like a burn."

Ding ding ding ding ding. I rewound my brain and remembered when Bridget stuck her hand between the bottom of the hot oven door and the top of the oven storage drawer. She had only cried for a moment and when I stuck my hand in there it wasn't hot. Apparently, though, it was.

A quick trip to the doctor and a diagnosis of a 2nd degree burn and instructions how to take care of it---neosporin and hand washing (although he showed me how to wash Bridget's hands, which annoyed the ever loving hell out of me)---and we were back, none the worse for the wear.

Then on Sunday, Conor tells us a story of how he and his new playmate found a dead mouse? And how his new friend pushed all the blood out of this dead mouse by putting a rock on top of it and squishing it. I'm not even going to try to make that more dramatic than it is, but basically I flipped out. If you'd like to know why, then read this article. In any case, how we're going to deal with this issue is still in motion, so no more comments about it here, except it freaked me (and continues to freak me) out.

Monday and Tuesday were mellow, just normal random throw up, crying, and lack of sleep. And that was just Dave!

I kid! It was our multiple offspring, but I had to put that there. Then this morning, oh, let's say at about 4 am, the random throw up (Bridget once Monday morning) became more regular (Christopher, three times in a row. then again at 7 and then again at 8:30). Since Christopher had had congestion for the last 8 months and we think it's related to allergies and our Doctor (Dr. Here's How You Wash A Child's Hands) refuses to listen to us and he was constantly yakking, we decided to take him to the doctor's office. And see another Doctor. HA! Cheating on our doctor! And trying to find one who listens and doesn't think I'm an idiot.

Surprisingly, this new-to-us Doctor DID listen to me about Christopher's congestion. Why yes, he said, 8 months a really long time for a child to be congested. Some children are born sniffley, but still. It could also be a problem. And for the first time, a doctor agreed with me that Christopher's eczema is likely related to his congestion. After diagnosing an ear infection and an unrelated stomach bug, he suggested we give Christopher a half teaspoon of benadryl to see if that will stop his congestion.

At home, Christopher had his first doses of both penicillin and benadryl, and took a nap. A long nap. A long nap in which he did not snore. For the first time since we brought him home from the hospital.

But that's not all! No, burns, mutilated mice and yakking, infected, congested children do not cover all the excitement around here! No, the last bit of thrill happened during dinner, when I looked over at Bridget and saw a growing redness around her mouth, cheeks and nose. After deciding that I was not imagining it and going through a mental checklist of what we ate new for dinner that night, I narrowed it down to the eggplant Bridget had loved so much she'd have 3 helpings. But allergic? to eggplant?! Why, yes, it is possible! And a quick call to the after hours nurse made me very, very grateful that we'd bought children's benadryl today. The nurse was as excited as I was, saying that if we didn't have it, she would have stayed on the phone as Dave had gone out to get it, come back and give it to Bridget. Yeah.

She is fine now. We have to give her another dose in 6 hours but the rash went away in about 45 minutes. And tonight, she and Christopher are both sleeping well and breathing well. We know this because we've been checking on them quite a bit. But no more eggplant at our house. I fully realize that I am the only person mourning that fact. But it also scares me that Bridget has a food she can't eat again. It sort of freaks one out to know that something she could eat could make her sick. Or worse.

It's been an eventful week. I would just as soon it not be eventful any more. I could use boring. I could stand to be bored for a while now.

Quirks

The twins have grown out of that blank infant stage and have started to become distinct babies. They still really dig each other, holding hands while they nurse and touching each others' faces first thing in the morning. But they are quite different as far as their personalities go.

Christopher is just like Conor was. He laughs easily and, apparently, when I sneeze, tickle him, or throw him in the air, I am the funniest mother that ever lived. And like Conor, he is not all that interested in movement. Like Conor, when you are a fat baby with a ginormo head, it's hard to actually propel yourself around with your arms and legs. Unlike Conor, Christopher has decided to just lie on the floor and kick his legs like he's trying to swim across our hardwood floors. The good news is that he has advanced from last month when he would kick his legs for a few minutes and then put his head down and sob. Now, he'll kick and perhaps even spin around a bit before he puts his head down to rest a bit and try it again. It's really the only time he gets upset. When I say he's a happy child, I mean that 95% of the time, he's amusing himself with his toys and then looking up at whoever is around, cocking his head to one side and laughing. It's hard not to run over and grab him and kiss him when he does this, so I don't even try to resist.

Bridget, on the other hand....

Well, Bridget makes you work for her smiles. They are absolutely worth the effort because her whole face will light up, but she's not giving them out for free and never giving them to strangers (who usually make her scream). And quite unlike Christopher, the child is very, very mobile. She's not crawling yet (THANK GOD(DESS)), but she's creeping her way all over the house. The child is tiny, yet she's cover a space that is proportionately enormous just to see what is there.

She was trying to eat the mirror in our bedroom and so I put her way on the other side of the room to keep her safe. She made a beeline back to the mirror, stopping only for a minute to chew on an extension cord along the way. (A box of new baby proofing supplies arrived today, in case you were wondering) And because she is still drooling so much, we can tell where she has been crawling. Much like a giant slug, she leaves a trail of spit in her wake.

And just today, she started to growl when she crawls. She is still the queen of raspberries and feels free to use them to make comments about everything. But now, she's growling. She's not angry; she's just playing with her voice. But it's a bit disconcerting seeing this extra tiny baby crawling across the floor with a trail of slime behind her while she growls.

Speaking of disconcerting, Conor has started to really blossom into his own person. His own quite quirky person. (He is our child, you know) The latest was his proud declaration that he did not want to poop at school. While Dave agrees that he would not poop at their school, either, Conor when on to share how he will "move his poop back up inside" so he won't poop at school.

Yeah. That's one of those things that you learn about a family member that you care about and still think, "Dude, that's weird." But we shall judge not his poopitude. We've talked to him and his teachers that if he needs to go he should go. But he prefers to poop here in the bathroom he prefers to poop in (versus the other bathroom downstairs). Folks I PROMISE you, we did not put any pressure on potty training.

And then, his teacher overheard him explaining to his classmate about having a new sister "One of the good things about having a baby sister is that your parents love you more because you can be more useful." Dave and I were a bit saddened by that. Does he think we only love him b/c he's useful? No, but still! When we asked him about it, he told us that he told his classmate the good thing about having a baby brother and sister is that you can go to your room and shut the door when they start crying.

I have to be honest with you. Of all the things we would have imagined Conor to say about being a big brother, being loved more because we put him to work and the ability to get away from their crying would have not be on our top 20, even top 30, things we would have expected him to say.

So there. He's not us. Conor is his own little funky, loving, slightly bizarre and completely lovable person. He's really separating and keeping secrets and having his own opinions. And it's really nice. Quirky. But nice.

DecEmBlo

Oh, I just made that up. It is a pretty crazy month thus far.

We're functioning in the house now. There are still plenty of boxes left to unpack. But the master closet is set up and most of the boxes are out of the master bedroom.

Dave is actually playing with the AT&T Uverse TV and we both are so overwhelmed. We found some games on the system this weekend (or I should say, my tech and otherwise genius brother-in-law did) and we have no idea where they are now. And have no idea how to find the time to find them again.

School starts in one month, and I am a bit concerned about how I am going to do this with 3 kids. Dinners are CRAZY around here. And that's when I have a couple of hours to put together a lame meal. What about when we're down to hour singular?

And Christopher's eczema is not better. I'm off both wheat and dairy for now and we're taking him to a pediatric dermatologist tomorrow.

Still, it's all good. Conor sang for the first time with his choir in front of the whole church for the Christmas sing-along. This Wednesday is the Christmas Pageant, and Conor is going to be a sheep. Very cute. We're loving the house and considering how uncomfortable Christopher is at night, sleep is realistic at this stage.

The first two years are the worst, right? I need to go back and read my blog and figure out when it gets easy again.

Fin Slippy

I just poured myself an enormous glass of wine. I didn't even mean to do it. Well, yes, I did meant to pour myself some wine. It's not like I was planning on drinking milk and accidentally poured wine. However, I had no intention of pouring myself the amount of wine I did until I did it.

But now, what the hell. I'm going to drink it. I might even pour myself another one after that.

Things still look like we're moving on Friday. (And as this is Thanksgiving weekend, I expect by the time folks read this, we would have already been stuffed with turkey, moved and be mostly unpacked) The cleaners came, little things were done, the leak in the wall was fixed. Oh, yes. The last part was fun! At some point, someone saw water running out of the outside wall of our house. That's never good. Indeed, all of our (very active) crew stopped what they were doing and went to stare in very alarmed matter at the water running out of our house. If you ever want to see a construction crew jump to, arrange for this sort of event. Fortunately, the crew chief intuited where the likely leak was and they found it and fixed it with minimal disruption. Nonetheless, caffeine was not required in the afternoon.

As for the Fin Slippy part, I'm actually not referring to Finslippy, but to Christopher. We've taken to putting socks on his hands at night to help him from scratching his head. Since these look like fins, and we slathering him with aquaphor, he indeed reminds of us Fin Slippy.

We've also decided that there was no correlation between the milk I wasn't consuming and any change in his eczema, his problems do not seem allergy related. Nonetheless, we need to keep him covered in aquaphor. Last night, he would not sleep, which was annoying me. (I'm not up for mother of the year, in case you're wondering) Then I realized he was trying to scratch his head and couldn't because of the fins. I put the aquaphor on him and he moaned with relief and within seconds was asleep.

Yeah, I felt like a jerk for thinking he just had a "sleeping problem" instead of realizing he was in pain. It is obvious to me how I could go down the Crying It Out path on something like this, not realizing that Christopher was in pain. Not every problem is this solvable, but it was humbling to see how mistaken I was about why Christopher wasn't sleeping.

In any case, he's so covered in aquaphor that he could slip off the bed. Uh-oh. Must run. Crying.

Ack

First, the fun note. Today, Christopher had the most fun he's ever had in his life. The same sort of thing happened to Conor, but it was the worse day of his life and it happened during the throes of colic. It was pretty obvious that it was a pretty bad day for Conor and at 6 weeks of age---I was pretty sure it was the worst day of his life thus far. If he could compare, all other bad days in his life would be either a little worse or a little better than that day.

For Christopher, he had what appeared to us to be the most fun he's had in his life. How could we tell? The continuous laughter. What caused it? Listening to Conor read their bedtime story. We have no idea why that tickled Christopher's funny bone, but he loved it. Conor might as well have been successfully headlining a comic club as much as Christopher laughed. Bridget thought it was funny, too, but she didn't laugh nearly as much as Christopher did. Hence, the most fun Christopher has had in his short life.

The Ack part of our day comes from the remodel. BTW, although the beginning was stressful, the end is about to make us both nutty. er.

We had planned on moving in tomorrow, but that would have entailed every absolute thing happening exactly on schedule. And you know as well as we do, that doesn't happened. So then we thought we'd move in on Tuesday. It would have to be either Tuesday or next Saturday and we'd already given notice on our rental and it may be rented very soon.

So of course the unexpected arose and we haven't passed our final inspection (so no electricity), the exterior of the house hasn't been painted (and some parts of the interior), and part of the floor has not been finished yet. These are, in order, very important, slightly important, and moderately important. Without final inspection, we can't get our electricity turned on. So hopefully on Monday it will pass inspection and Monday or Tuesday, we'll have our permanent electricity. They can paint the house when we're moving in, I don't care. But the floor. Well, they are going to need to do a coat of finish on Sunday in order to do the final coat on Monday so that we can walk across it Tuesday to move in. We won't be able to put furniture in these rooms (the twins room and the upstairs loft), but that's no big deal. But if they don't come on Sunday, they'll have to do the final coat on Tuesday and we can't be living there when they do that.

Ack.

Ack, ack, ack.

And hopefully, we'll have electricity on Tuesday.

ACK! ACK!!

But honestly, our friends are letting us stay here in the rental as long as we need. So if we HAVE to postpone the move until next Saturday, we will. It would just be really nice to have all those days to unpack instead of staring at the back of our house wanting to move in.

Christopher

So the mini-Conor clone known as Christopher, yes, what is he like? The similarities between Conor and Christopher are pretty amazing. They look alike, they smile the same, they are hitting their physical milestones at about the same time, and they have the same interest in food!

One big difference is Christopher's temper. Conor has a definite midwestern calmness about him that isn't anywhere in Christopher's consciousness. I have learned that when the boo-boo lip emerges, I have a nano-second to react or the screaming and the (nonverbal) cussing begins. Neither Conor nor Bridget have a temper like this. And although it keeps me hopping, I think it's awfully sweet.

On the other hand, Christopher (like Conor) is a big laugher. I have already found his ticklish spots and kisses on his neck get him going every time. Bridget honestly just started laughing today. We were outside and I was double slinging so I didn't have any free hands. Nonetheless, Patches really, really wanted me to throw the frisbee. Instead, I put my foot under it and lofted it up in the air as high as I could. Although it only went a few feet, Patches happily fetched it just like I'd thrown it across the yard. After a few fetches, Bridget started giggling. The more we did, the louder she got. I have no idea why that was so funny to her, but Patches and I were very happy to keep doing that funny version of fetch to keep her laughing.

But back to Christopher. Christopher (like Conor) is also a very smoochie boy. But either I didn't notice it this early with Conor or Christopher is trying very early to figure out how to kiss. Last night when he was supposed to be going to sleep, Christopher decided it was time to flirt. And then he started coming at my face with an open drooly mouth. Since I know he knows where the nummies are, I was a bit confused. Then I just gave me him cheek and he put his mouth fully on it, drooled a bit and then pulled back looking very pleased with himself. I have to admit that this was so adorable that we did this for a very, very long time. Who can resist one's son trying to reciprocate love? I certainly can't.

And the most unusual thing about Christopher is his ability to provide amazing back massages at this early age. Let me explain. I am finally confident having both babies with me in bed. However, at some point in the night I have to roll over and feed one while the other snuggles against my back. (As an aside, I have become the queen of rolling over in one spot) While Christopher snacks, Bridget is likely to gently tug at my pajamas should she get hungry. Christopher, being the enormo baby that he is, is a bit more dramatic.

He will flail his limbs beating me in my back to get my attention. Once, I rolled over and he was attacking Dave thinking that might be a new source of milk. But if I'm really lucky, and he's more just stirring in his sleep versus demanding food, his flailing arms and legs will hit on some pressure points in my back and relieve some of the tension there. It's definitely not a skilled massage, but it's a freebie back rub and I do appreciate it. (And no, I've never delayed rolling over to get more massage---it's not that good!)

And I'm very excited about our new buckle tai sling for Christopher. We got it yesterday and I was able to put it on once today. Christopher loved being on my back and going about the day. I have to work on it though. I tried to put it on a second time and ended up whacking Christopher in the head with my elbow. There was crying and it was not good for anyone. But, once I figure it out, I think it's going to be a life saver.

That said, I'm pooped. Time for bed and getting ready for the new week. Not that it's really that much different than the end nor the middle of the week. Or the weekend for that matter. I don't know how fulltime SAHMs do it.

Place Holder

This is a place holder post so that I can still qualify for NaPlambo or whatever the name is. Good day but pooped. Cleaned the house of the new kitchen with a friend and picked up my buckle tai, the new sling for the babies. I realize it won't solve all our problems with young twins, but I'm thinking a lot is going to be fixed as I'll be able to pick up both babies safely at the same time.

Tonight's bedtime routine was a bit long mainly because Christopher got a second wind and decided he wanted to practice kissing me. Who can possibly resist a wide-open, smiling, mouthy kiss from a short bald chubby guy who laughs every time he presses his drooly mouth against my cheek? I certainly can't. I'm even looking forward to those same kisses tomorrow morning.

Off of Milk

Christopher has horrible eczema and we think it's due to a milk allergy. Honestly, it's really bad. If you can look past the triple chins and the pinch-able cheeks below, you'll see just how awful his breakouts have become.

And this was the day after the really bad break out.

So I'm not eating any dairy. And ironically, I can't eat goat's milk or yogurt either because of the high correlation between cow's milk and goat's milk allergies. Folks, I had no idea how many milk products I'm used to eating. Besides cream for my coffee, I apparently consider ice cream and cheese as my go-to snacks when I'm hungry. And I'm always hungry. But that's another post.

In any case, I need to go get some snacks that are not Halloween candy and are not potato chips and are also not dairy. Any suggestions? I'm really hungry. And I can't have Christopher looking that scaly again.

We'll do another picture at the end of this week. So far, his skin has really improved and doesn't feel nearly as leathery as it did. If we get close to clear skin, I'll be thrilled. And hungry. And perhaps thinner?