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.

It Gets Easier

I'm not sure it gets better (like in the campaign I like so much), but I want to tell mothers of twins (or MOMs) that it gets easier when the twins get older.

I honestly feel like we have some semblance of normalcy back, which makes me reflect back on the last two years and realize how incredibly tough those times were. The first summer right after they were born was hard because they were coming out of NICU and catching up on their development and we were completely overwhelmed with comforting, feeding and getting the twins to sleep while remodeling our house. We were insane.

Last summer, I had the twins home with Conor mostly by myself because we couldn't afford to keep the nanny and there wasn't a spot in daycare. Naps were HORRIBLE. Giant boy twin and tiny needy, girl twin have different comfort, sleeping and eating needs, in case you were wondering. And all the baby/toddler paraphernalia and still trying to get the remodeled house sorted out = H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks.

This summer, well, they are in daycare, which I do not know how working parents who sometimes work at home do it otherwise. I am not a very good SAHM. I've never been one, but if I was one, I think I would be fired. On the other hand, I'm a GREAT working mom.

But it's not just daycare---the house is done on the inside. We've spent the summer working on the back yard and there is real progress on making an outdoor living area. And the CRAP! The BABY CRAP--is going away! All the enormous toys! All the paraphernalia! Bye-bye, sippy cups! Thanks for playing and I hope I never see you again.

We're HAPPILY and WITH GREAT JOY putting it all in a box to sell. And the house, it is clean. O.M.G. Do you know how happy that makes me?? And the twins are eating well. And sleeping well! And we can comfort them so much more easily than before. They are talking more and playing independently. And my life! It's there! On the horizon!! I see it!! It's coming closer and closer!!

Of course, my old self is being blocked quite substantially by my giant gut. The twins stretched it out and I didn't help with all the ice cream and french fries I've eaten in the last year or so. That's the next plan of attack---reduction of the excess Mother Thing to get back to normal.

It just has gotten so much easier. And I am so glad we're done and forever past the first two years of childhood.

It's Been A While

We've been busy.

Dave is building a tree house.













I'm working in an amazingly prolific garden.














The twins had their second birthday.














And we found a mummified snake in a box of clothing during a yard sale.














Things have been happening around here.

Also, I taught summer school, which is a lot of fun (getting to know students) but a BOATLOAD of work. Honestly, I have not had time to do much of anything besides make it through the next 30 minutes for about 6 weeks now.

In any case, I thought a pictorial blog would bring you up to date. We're going to the beach next week for a Real Vacation--the first one in a couple of years. I hope to have a few hours to put up more pictures and talk about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Birth and Death

I am so lame. I've been wanting to blog for weeks, but the ability to get to this computer (with the pictures) during a time when I had a few minutes to write and be inspired enough to say something interesting.... Well. Here I am.

What I've wanted to be posting first starts with this picture. Dave put in raised beds in the garden for me, and the day after a bunny mowed down our first round of beets and lettuce, added this beautiful, architectural bunny and rat fighting fence.

I love it. I love my garden with a feeling I did not know I had. I have missed actively gardening for about 4 years now. Three years ago was the diverticulitis; 2 years ago was hospitalization for twins; 1 year ago, I can't really remember, but I'm going to assume I was occupied with my twinnies. Nothing happened in the garden last year.

But this year, we've got lots of growth in a beautiful, beautiful space. I am much a believer of the intersection of form and function. It's got to be beautiful and it's got to work. Dave's handyman, craftiness has made gardening the most pleasant extra-work thing I do. Thank you, honey!!

So that's birth: the birth of a garden and the rebirth of my life outside of the twins.

What about death? Well, there is an interesting thing I only recently learned. After my first miscarriage, the chair of my department told a group of people at the time that my miscarriage--"It was for the better."

............

.................?

..................??!?!?!?!?!??!?!

What the fuckety fuck???

First, I got really upset when I heard that. I will be honest with you: it's the angriest I have been, perhaps in my entire life. The death of my baby was for the better? What????? Alcohol was likely involved with the anger considering I heard this during a casual happy hour, so let's blame that a bit for the anger.

But let's go a little further. And this is where I can easily move from being generous or nutty. The generous interpretation: He was making one of those stupid comments people make when women have miscarriages. It's entirely possible and, not unlikely, given his social skills.

The nutty interpretation (and by that I mean, I look like a completely paranoid nutjob) involves my state, at that point, of being an assistant (i.e., untenured) professor: it was better for my career that I didn't have another child. People bristle at that interpretation, but I think it's reasonable that he meant that, too. I am not trying to be coy about what was going on at the time, but for Dave and me, we believe this is an entirely reasonable interpretation. It's only nutty to those who weren't around us during that time.

He may have even meant a combination of the nutty interpretation and the more generous interpretation. A dead baby is a win-win for me!! Lucky me!

(((sigh)))

After I sobered up and got some distance from learning this information, I had a glorious revelation. And indeed, it came while I was walking back from my garden: I have everything I've ever wanted. I have my dream job, with my dream colleagues (mostly). I live in my dream house and I have my dream family. He's no longer my chair. He no longer works in my department. He no longer works at the university, and, he's not even in the country anymore.

So, yeah. I wish I could report back on some insight on forgiveness that I had. I don't have one. I'm not a good enough person to experience forgiveness that involves reconciliation and new close relationship with the "offending person". No. I think for me, forgiveness in this situation is just indifference. It's a feeling of "meh", which, I have to admit, is a pleasant one to have.

UPDATE: I spoke with my friend about his comment after she read this post and my "nutty" interpretation was the correct one. Fortunately, several of the feminists in the room (and the discussion was on INCREASING DIVERSITY AT OUR UNIVERSITY!) called him on this completely inappropriate statement.

Well, Poop

What an amazing weekend. There is something about the south in the spring that is prettier than any other season in any other part of the country I've lived in. All the flowering dogwoods and cherry treas, vibrant pink azaleas, and, um, flowering flowers are so pretty after the gray of winter. But what I think is even prettier is all the shades of green from the trees as they start to get leaves again. By the middle of summer, it's all one hot, oppressive shade of green. But now, it's all vibrant colors and 15 shades of green that make me so happy to move from winter to spring.

And we FINALLY have the house and the yard in a livable condition. When we moved back in November '09, the yard was completely destroyed from all the workers and their equipment. The vegetable garden had been mostly neglected and with less than 1 year old twins, we made the easy decision to neglect it again. Even the perennial got no attention besides mulch and superficial weeding.

Worse than all of that was that we didn't have a deck anymore on the back of the house and it wasn't clear where we should put our outdoor table and chairs to hang out and "enjoy" our backyard.

Who the hell am I kidding. There was not a lot of "enjoying" last year. What were we thinking having twins and remodeling the house at the same time? I don't know how we could have done it any other way but holy crap, that was a rough time.

IN ANY CASE, for the last month, we've been working in our yard. Dave put in cedar raised beds for the garden and just this weekend we finished putting up a gorgeous architectural bunny and rat proof fence (designed by Dave's DIY Home By Design--available for hire and/or babysitting services, inquire within). Pictures to follow; they are on the other computer.

It's been wonderful getting the yard to where I thought it should have been last year. Who knew, really, how much work a remodel is *after* the remodel!?

But even better--the TWINS! Are EASIER!! They PLAY!! With each other!!! With Conor!!! And even though a re-enactment of Bridget at any point during the day would include the words "Mommy. Mommy!! MOMMY!! MOMMMYYYY! MOMMY! Mommy. Mommy!! MOMMY!!" we can do things when they are awake and that is a freedom I am excited about.

Speaking of freedom, both twins have shown some interest in potty training. I think they are really young, but they want to sit on the potty. And we're happy to let them do it.

Yesterday, we thought, Hey!! It's warm out! Let's give them some freedom and let them run around without their diapers on and practice sitting on the potty. What's the worst that could happen?

What is the worst, indeed.

It was not more than 5 minutes before Bridget started running around the backyard with her diaper in hand. Fine. She wants to play with her undies; I wonder what the neighbors will think. At this point she still had her jumper on and I thought it would be good to take it off in case she peed and got her clothes wet. I ran after her and she ran to steps outside the garage.

I scooper her up. "What is that smell," I thought. "Did she toot?"

Ummmm, no.

I looked down at a poop on the stairs to the garage. Did the cat get outside?? Did some other apparently large cat poop on our steps?

There were olives. No cat I know eats olives. Bridget on the other hand. . .

YIKES! I yelled and made Dave come over and look because that's exactly the kind of wife and mother that I am.

I ran back inside to get some wipes to clean Bridget up and finally take off her jumper.

I see Patches wending his way towards the garage, curious at this new smell.

LEAVE IT!! LEAVE IT!!! Patches slinks away.

I clean up Bridget. And then I go to clean up the steps to the garage.

What the.....???? Where the.....??? PATCHES!??!!?! PATCHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'd strongly suggest you don't let Patches kiss you any time soon. I'm just saying.

Bronx Zoo's Cobra

I know that most people on the Internets are not on Twitter. The latest stats are that only 10% of folks on the Internets are also on Twitter. And it's hard to explain why people would want to be on twitter. You don't get to explain about a story in detail like when you write a blog and you don't get to learn about someone's life and develop relationships (at least in your own head) like when you read a blog. And the criticism is always "Why do I want to know what someone had for lunch? I don't care about that."

Honestly, people, it's not like all people do on twitter is talk about what they eat. They may tweet about what they are drinking, maybe, but that's later on at night and a whole different issue.

Oh, and as an aside, on of my colleagues came up to me and said I was the best example about what he didn't want to be on Facebook. I had posted a very funny (I thought) update about lingering puke smells around the house after the twins' bout with a stomach bug. He said "why am I reading this? I don't need to know about it!" Why, indeed.

Two words, people: Un. Follow. Instead, I blocked him, because I am passive aggressive that way.

In any case, have you heard about the cobra that escaped from the Bronx Zoo? Well, that cobra has started a twitter account. And I love it.

And I am not the only one. The twitter account started on Monday and already it's been featured on the NY Times, NPR, the BBC and various other news outlets. Ellen DeGeneres, Steven Martin, Jon Favreau, the New York Hilton, and even Sesame street have all referred to him (or her?) in their twitter feeds. There is even a hysterical video of baby twins talking to each other which has been re-interpreted into one warning the other about the cobra. It wants to eat baby toes!!

I tweeted last night: "It's somewhat hard to explain to "normal" people how one is following an escaped cobra on twitter #snakeonthetown" and it has been my most retweeted and responded to tweet ever.

What. Is. Up? For some reason, the word Zeitgeist comes to mind. Obviously, there's something about escaped cobras that captures one's imagination. And the idea of one touring New York ("looking for Rebecca Black. No reason.") and tweeting about it is funny.

But there's a time urgency here. They could capture the snake and then the tweets won't be so funny. The snake could die, and sort of the same thing. You can't really put off following this snake until some time in the future. We have to enjoy it now because it may be over in the next hour. (Or not. See the post by the vet above)

I cannot explain this easily. It is something I would like to research and explore in further depth. What I love most about twitter is sharing diverse, time dependent, special or unique events with friends and strangers. I would love to know what it's tapping into for me psychologically or sociologically. And when I've had more sleep I will pursue that.

But right now, I'm having a lot of fun following an escaped cobra on twitter. You might enjoy it, too.

Spring

I hate to keep changing the background and layout of my blog, but I am still not completely satisfied with it. I would like it to be fancy and eye-catching, but not so busy. Sort of like how I'd like my own life to be. ((Rudely laughing at my own joke))

So, um, yeah! Here we are in spring. Work-wise, I need to be reviewing abstracts for a conference and what I'd really rather do (besides writing constructive comments) is just to turn in my short assessments to the conference organizers:

1) Hell No

2) Yes, great job

3) Yes, but as a poster or interactive session

3) Nope.

That should be enough. It's relevant for conference organizers, but, alas, does not have enough specific feedback for the authors. (Really? Ya, think)

In mother news, Bridget was given an "incident report" this week for biting another child. The good news is that it is fully clear in the report that she was defending herself from the tooth-y onslaught of the other child. That is, she wasn't the aggressor--someone was trying to bite her, she knew someone was trying to bite her, and she got the first bite in, probably right after she said "Listen, fool." (She can channel Mr T when she is defending herself)

In working mother news, I have a much better internet connection, we have a printer that works, and the cat is still alive. Let me back up a moment. A month. Ummm, two months.

Two months ago, in that I took a work-life balance class for mid-level women academics at our university: How the heck are we supposed to do this thing called A Career that allows us to have A Life, too. I honestly don't know if that is possible, but one thing we worked on was our "tolerations." Tolerations are those annoyances you have in your life that if you took 10 minutes or $10 (or maybe a bit more investment of time/money), you could solve the problem and your life wouldn't have those niggling "tolerations" any more.

For me, besides exercise, some of the big tolerances we've been putting up with around the house is crappy internet service (from AT&T U-verse) and no working printer. As someone who works A LOT from home, these are problems. The night of the workshop, Dave read my list of tolerations and within 3 days, had fixed them. Or at least, these two. The Messy House toleration is ongoing. Let's just stop for a second and talk about how wonderful my husband is, shall we? Yes, he's wonderful. Ok, moving on...

What bothered me about ME is that I had also included on my list of tolerations: Cat Won't Die.

Really? Really, Anita????? It is a daily annoyance to you that your Cat Won't Die. What kind of heartless bitch am I? A pretty big one, apparently.

In my defense, the cat is 18 years old. If she were a child, we would be exploring college opportunities right now. It would be time for her to move on. She also howls at night. LOUDLY. Right by the bed. That is annoying. Especially since sleep is so precious right now, an 18 year old cat howling by the bed is a toleration, that could be solved. By, ummm. Well, a shoe would be a less extreme solution than death.

Of course, feeling very guilty, I started paying a bit more attention to the cat. And that's when we realized that she is completely deaf. I have no idea how long she's been deaf. But she is completely and utterly deaf. That's why she's howling. In the middle of the night she has no idea what anyone is doing and would kind of like the world to know she's still alive. (Fortunately, she cannot read and did not know of her place on my list of daily annoyances/tolerations).

So she is still alive and she is not on my list of tolerations any more. We are also paying her more attention and she is not howling as much.

Finally, a funny professor story. After I give lectures, I will often write notes to myself on the syllabus or on the PowerPoint slides if there was a problem and if I should revise the lecture. This week, I gave my lecture on Stress in the workplace and I had written on the opening slide (so as to catch my attention) "This is a BORING lecture!! FIX!" So, I did. I added more exercises and more places for the students to contribute their own feedback and experiences.

Then, yesterday when I was reviewing my notes before class, I realized: I had uploaded the PowerPoint slides on the web....and had not taken off my note: "This is a BORING lecture!! FIX!" Yes! On the first slide!! The first thing the students saw when they looked at the slides was how awful class was going to be this week!! And yes, they did notice it!

Great!!

What I appreciated was during the class, I kept asking: Are you bored? how am I doing? I absolutely LOVE the student who said, "I'm not bored, but I am less enthused than I was."

We stopped and did an exercise.

She's Alive!

Hmmm, apparently, I've used this same title for a blog previously.

Oh, Lord. We have had some sickness around here. It's taken about 3 weeks, but FINALLY, everyone in the house is healthy and back to school or work. I am really hoping that next year the twins will be immune to most of this crud, so we won't be in danger of becoming a CDC super fund site.

I've also decided not to try to combine this blog into a professional blog. I would love to have a fancy pants professional blog to talk about my take on technology, psychology, and parenting research/news. But I can't do it any time soon. And I'm afraid if I did it, I would most certainly put a stake in the heart of this blog. I like the Mother thing. And although I don't post much on it, and I certainly don't get the readers I used to, I need a little space of my own. It sounds very Virginia Wolff-ish, doesn't it? Eh, well. So be it.

In any case, I do see this blog moving more towards working mother issues and perhaps working mother in academia issues.

I still need to blog about a mid-career/work-life balance workshop I went to in January (JANUARY) and had some great insights on the "tolerations" in my life. (I keep calling them haterations).

The problem is as an associate professor with a big(ger) house and three kid---I not going to be able to find the time. I'm going to have to take it.

I Knew You Were Going to Say That....

Did you hear about the recent ESP research published in a top psychology journal? No, that is actually not the start of a joke. There actually was a research article published by a highly respected psychologist in a highly respected journal which possibly provides evidence of ESP. You can read the article here. It's not a short article, but there it is for you to read.

You can read a variety of reactions throughout this long sentence.

My take on this whole controversy is a bit different. Controversy, you ask? Yes! Psychologists are a wee bit skeptical and like to point out that there are no such things as ghosts, witches, astrology, ESP, and other superstitions. They are interesting in the way they protect (or harm) one's psyche but have absolutely nothing to do with reality.

So my take is this: Is there ESP? Unlikely, but I still find this study quite interesting: students were able to pick out the correct location of a randomly assigned pornographic picture 53% of the time while they only got the regular non-naked pictures 50% of the time. (College students apparently have a "gift" of finding naked people doing things they'd like to be doing themselves.) However, as you can see this "gift" is not too strong. Picking the correct picture 50% of the time is what we'd expect by chance--just guessing. 53% is not a big gain over 50%. But with enough people, it can be a statistically significant improvement.

So here is what I think:

1) The most likely thing that will happen is that these data will not hold up in additional research. I'm can predict (!) this outcome because this is what happens the majority of the time there is a new research finding. I actually do not have in my hot little hands the percentage that makes up the majority of the time, but I think it approaches 90% of the time. 90% of the time is a little bit larger than 50% of the time. And what it means is that we are constantly refining our research to find the "truth" and the first finding is not likely at all to be the final say in what is actually true.

2) I disagree with every single criticism of people who say this research shouldn't have been published or there is something wrong with the peer review system (where researchers anonymously review others' research to determine if it's adequate for publication). The data are what the data are. These results are neutral (as long as they weren't faked). If the results of this study don't agree with what you think, too bad, so sad. If anonymous reviewers can't find a flaw, then the research should be published. I guarantee you that the editor gave special care to picking out people who do NOT believe in ESP to get the best feedback.

3) Here is what I do believe will happen from this study: we are going to find a flaw. It's either going to be a methodological flaw (there is an error in the design or enactment of the study) or there is a statistical flaw. And what is going to be so cool is that it's going to push our discipline ahead in our research and statistics. Why do I say that? Because those reviewers couldn't find a flaw--this research meets the standards for good research in its current form. So whatever mistake was made is not something we as a discipline know is a mistake. And that means growth in how we study. Sounds good to me.

4) Of course, I could be wrong and there is ESP. But I'm not convinced by this study. I'm not convinced by any one study of anything. Unless, of course, it's my study because mine are all brilliant and insightful and completely accurate descriptions of the truth in this world. (((cough, cough, cough, wiping tears from eyes)))

So I think this is pretty exciting. Something good is going to come from this. It's going to take a while--several years at the least before the next studies are designed, data collected, analyzed, vetted and published, but how exciting for psychology!

It's almost as exciting as a talking dog. Which is what I want to talk about next in research.

And No Stuffed Animals Were Burned!

Perhaps you have heard of Amy Chua's essay in the Wall Street Journal about the superiority of Chinese Mothers. If you haven't, I'm going to guess you don't have young children. Or you don't follow the Internets all that much, which means you aren't going to be reading this blog.

Although when I heard Ms. Chua on the Diane Rehm Show (and WOW, isn't Diane Rehm beautiful!), she suggested that her extreme parenting (calling her children garbage when they get an A- or less on a test, threatening to burn their stuffed animals if they don't play the piano well, no extra-curricular activities or friends), is a bit tongue-in-cheek, my understanding is that that is not true. A friend of a friend is Ms. Chua's neighbor, and indeed, can attest to the truth of the dinner party incident related in the article. She does berate her children and she limits their social activities in order that they will be The Best and win The Medal. She loves them and argues that she believes they are the best and they can win the medal and that is why she pushes them so hard.

Clearly, this is not our style. On the other hand, I think Dave and I can push Conor a little bit more, especially in skills we know he can do but he's afraid at failing at. So oddly enough, inspired by Ms. Chua, we had Conor sit down after dinner the other night and practice tying his shoes. He has not learned this yet and it's probably past time. So Dave and I hid in the kitchen and mouthed GARBAGE! GARBAGE! towards Conor (because we are apparently that kind of parent). Conor took a minute and then shouted out, "I DID IT!!!!" "YAY!" we shouted back. "Untie it and do it again!"

A minute passed. "I DID IT AGAIN!" "YAY! Do it one more time!" And Conor did. We told him he could have an ice cream sandwich if he tied both his shoes and went out to the garage freezer to get one. He struggled a bit, but did it. And no stuffed animals were burned.

But, yes, we were inspired to push him to do it. (A push as harsh as blowing on him) And we are actually inspired to do more of this You Can Do It, Just Practice parenting. (And you may be thinking we are incredibly slack. But no, we simply have 19 month old twins)

In any case, Ms. Chua's parenting style could be on to something name calling and toy destroying notwithstanding. Research suggests that everyone can become an expert/genius in something. Come again? Genes change and adapt to the environment. From the article, "This means that everything about us - our personalities, our intelligence, our abilities - are actually determined by the lives we lead. The very notion of "innate" no longer holds together." We settle for mediocrity because we think we aren't innately talented enough when expertise actually comes from effort and self-discipline. According to this new research, even IQ (which has long been thought as an innate, stable trait) changes according to the environment.

I love this research. FINALLY, science is demonstrating that genes apart from the environment mean nothing and the environment has no effect on people outside of the genes a person is given.

This is huge to me, and probably not in the way you think. We think in terms of cause and effect. A causes B. Genes cause people to Be The Way They Are. But NO, others argue (and I have tended to be here). Environment is the stronger contributor to people becoming the way they are. But that's silly, too, because it's obvious that people have certain proclivities; you can't make an introvert an extrovert no matter how hard you try. So scientists have been asking the question, which is more important: nature or nurture.

As I've grown as a researcher and as a methodologist, I've realized that one of our main problems is that we have a hard time thinking in terms of interaction (genes and environment mutually cause people to be the way they are), particularly when the interaction is recursive---the interaction is continual and progressive. I think the next big leap in the way social and biological scientists think about why people are what they are and do what they do. It's hard to think this way. It takes some mental effort to really work through the theoretical logic (not to mention the analyses!) of research like this. But I think generations of researchers behind us are going to build on our mental efforts and find it easy--just like we all naturally think in causal terms, which wasn't the case before the Renaissance. Before the Renaissance, witches caused everything.

And going back to the beginning of this entry, witches can "cause" genius, too. There is a lesson here, besides it's really fun to silently mouth "GARBAGE!" and "I am going to BURN all your stuffed animals if you don't tie your shoes!!!" at your children when they are doing something. For us, it's that our limits are self-imposed. We can do more than we think we can. And we want our children to know that they can do a lot of what they want, too. They just need to keep trying. And we'll support them, and not abuse them, along the way.

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.

Virii

Oh, dear.

Here's another fun feature of twins, although I would imagine this applies to all families with more than two children. We've been like a slow motion Domino collapse around here. It turns out it wasn't fifth disease. The fever has been too high. And fortunately, it is not the flu either.

It is, however, some sort of respiratory virus that has felled my children. Dave and I are just fine. But the kids are, as we say in the south, puny. Conor is actually home sick today for the first time in years. I honestly don't remember the last time he had a fever.

So for the twins, the progression was: cough, 101+ fever, puke, no appetite for a period of time, lethargy for a period of time (HATE that symptom), and then a secondary bacterial infection. Although those are many of the the symptoms for the flu, Christopher was tested and it came back negative. So, either it's a different flu strain than the one they were testing for or this is a different respiratory infection.

In any case, bleah. We've had someone with a fever here for 11 days. Woo. Hoo. I can't imagine Dave and I are going to get this if we've been around it so long (and the snotty kisses that go with comforting one's sick, pukey children) and not gotten it.

But there you have it. And famous last words, right? I'm sure I have just doomed myself to posting tomorrow about my 102 fever.

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.

Incongruity

Here is a picture of the twins' Halloween costume. Yes, they were adorable! So adorable, in fact, that they were featured on the front page of the online Charlotte Observer for 3 hours the day after Halloween! And yes, I AM bragging about that. I have always felt that feeling "proud" of some other person's accomplishment is a bit narcissistic, reflecting in some way your involvement in someone else's accomplishment (which is rarely the case). It's why I'm often very, very happy for other people, but rarely "proud" of them.

NONETHELESS, I am so proud of how cute they look and that they were on the front page of our local newspaper's online edition. Ha! I even love that in that picture they have become Thing 1 and Thing 2 looking adorably like imps about to do something bad. :-)

The incongruity comes from talking about Halloween when I also want to talk about last night's HORRIBLE night of (no) sleep. We're in the 18 month sleep regression. I vividly remember this stage with Conor and was convinced we were doing something wrong; that the co-sleeping was coming back to bite us on the butt.

Ummm, no.

This is a normal stage in which children's brains explode and their sleeping stops. We're back to newborn waking. Add on to that Bridget's bronchitis and her coughing so hard in her sleep she wakes up screaming (and puking! Thanks, Dave, for taking that one for the team last night!). and there is not enough coffee in the day to help me think clearly.

And thank ye gods and goddesses that I am past tenure, so I work, but not kill myself getting papers out over the next 4 months while we get through this stage. Yes, I'm still planning on submitting 4 conference papers and a journal submission in the next 4 months (one is already done), but I'm not planning on 4 additional journal submissions in the next 4 months. That's the difference and it is a big one.

So there. That's what is on my mind. And that is how scattered I think and what has become the new normal for us. It works. :-)

Ummm, hey!

Yes, yes, I'm still here. Insert repetitive whine about how busy I've been.

I'm actually catching up on "things" this morning. This often happens when I've been working my a$$ off on "school" work and I have neglected my "home" work. Everything is work for me. Even knitting is "gift" work. Reading is "intellectual" work. Running is "health" work.

I am weird.

You should know that already, right? And by "you" I mean the three of you still regularly or even occasionally stopping by here.

I continue to have tons of conversations with you or topics I want to blog about. I JUST DON'T HAVE FREAKIN' TIME!!

So, whatevs. I'm going to do some picture posts now. And then I really hope I can work back in my life a few 10 minutes posts here and there when I have something funny or vexing to share.

So, yeah, HEY!! Hope you're doing well!! We're ok over here. Hoping I can share a few things over the next few days.

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.

My Bleb

I have a bleb. It is as lovely as it sounds. I will explain what a bleb is, but first I have two confessions.

1: I am still breastfeeding the twins.

2: they are still sleeping with us.

There! Now you know our dark secrets.

I talked a lot more about breastfeeding with Conor than I have with the twins. I'm not sure why, except it may have something to do with the same reasons why I would NEVER breastfeed the twins in public, and I breastfed Conor in public all the time.

Breastfeeding a singleton is one of those Hallmark moments in which mother and child gaze into each others eyes with love and connection. Breastfeeding twins is more like being a sow. Especially when one has an athletic daughter who prefers to nurse in a down dog position. And will sometimes attack one's breast like a tribble. Of course, you know that I don't think there's a damn thing wrong with nursing twins--as mine are 15 months old and I fully plan to go at least two years---but it is not a Hallmark moment. The double twin standing nursing pose? Well, let's just say, we have pictures and you will not be seeing them.

And sleeping with us? Well, we've always done that and it just makes it easier. It's just that with a bleb, one will often wake up in the middle of the night with the sensation of a knife stabbing you in your bassoomies.

So yes, we're going past 6 weeks of my bleb, a milk blister. It apparently can take between 6 and 8 weeks for a bleb to heal. Yippee! Truly, I've not been doing everything I can--such as applying wet heat (as hot as one can stand) every 4 hours around the clock. Dudes--it hurts. But I am NOT going to get up in the middle of the night to soak my boob for 20 minutes before the twins wake up and nurse. Hells bells, I RARELY even sleep 4 hours in a row to wait for them to eat again.

Yes, here's the part you may not understand. The twins sleep as well as Conor did---they get up two or three times a night. Each. EACH.

EACH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That means that on a good night, I'm up only 4 times. That has happened, oh let's say, twice in the last 15 months. Most nights, I'm up 6 times a night. Occasionally, I'll use my running watch (HA! RUNNING! I RAN ONCE! HA!) to "lap" how long I sleep. It's a good night--and I feel well rested---if I get one stretch of about 3 hours. Then the laps will get shorter to: hour, hour, hour, 45 minutes, 30 minutes...time to get up.

I'm tired. I'm not going to deny that. And blebless, I can sleep through most feedings. But it's doable. And I know that in another year or so, they'll be sleeping much longer and eventually, so will I.

Eventually.

I freaked a bit when I read on my twin mother's support group that other MOMs who co-sleep, when their twins finally started sleeping through the night, it took them months...MONTHS (I'm shouting a lot in this entry)...MONTHSSSSSSS to finally sleep and feel rested again.

Bleb. Breastfeeeding. Co-sleeping. A sleep schedule that would make normal people scream.

So now you know.

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.

Kindergarten

Conor starts kindergarten on Tuesday. We thought he was starting last Wednesday with the rest of the Charlotte Mecklenburg system. We thought wrong.

Apparently, here at CMS, they have a staggered system. We thought (along with many other first time parents) that meant that not all the schools start at the same time in the morning. While that is true, it also means that kindergarteners get a "trial" day the first 5 days of school; that is, they only go one of the first 5 days of school. So some kids had their trial day on Wednesday and then start kindergarten for real the NEXT Wednesday, we have our trial day on Tuesday and then start for real on Wednesday.

So, um, yeah. That's actually fine. Conor starts kindergarten in two days. And actually, the twins start daycare tomorrow.

Halle-effin-lujah. We had two great nannies. Two women who were fantastic with the twins. But I am going to be so glad to the twins back to our regular daycare where I don't have to worry about what to tell someone to fix them for lunch, if I have the food I want them to have for lunch, if there is enough food for the nanny to eat something for lunch, does the nanny know how to prepare what they should have for lunch, and then to repeat the whole thing again for snack. Seriously. We loved the nannies, but I am so glad to be sending them to daycare.

Of course, the panic attacks in the middle of the night of how we're going to do all this have been a lot of fun. First, we cannot afford after-care for Conor. We were going to send him to an aftercare program at our church, but we honestly and truthfully do not have the money. How is that possible? Due to an amazingly low fixed rate mortgage we are not paying any more for that. And we were fine when it was just Conor is daycare, so what the heck?

I'll tell you the heck. It's doubling the daycare payments AND the new car payment. We had paid off both cars a while back so we didn't have a car payment. But the twins can't fit in a jetta, much less the twins, Conor, Dave, me and sometimes a dog. Here's a number that made Dave and me slack jawed in pain and anticipation: in 4 years when the twins enter kindergarten and we pay off the car, we'll have $2,000 more tax free dollars per month to, I don't know, to do what? That is so much money right now, we could use it for toilet paper and still end up ahead.

So that's been part of the panic attack--we have no money, we can't afford for Conor to be in after school care, but I, um, kind of have to work! But then we got some good news and some kind of bad news that helped solve the after school dilemma. Basically, if Conor rides the bus and I take him to the bus stop, I will have plenty of hours to get my work done during the day and Conor will not be in after school care. That's the good news. The bad news is that it will be a long-ish day for Conor--although not really longer than daycare. But it will start early. REALLY early. The twins' time in daycare will be about the same as Conor's has been these last 5 years, but not worse.

So that's where we are. I think it's sort of funny that people think I'm having a hard time with the twins going to daycare. But I don't. I'm more worried about Conor. I want him to have enough free time during the day--that doesn't involve sitting on a bus. I know it's going to work out. It always has. But the transition is going to be a little crazy and that's a little bit overwhelming right now.

Viral Pneumonia

Now that's a blog title!

Um, so, uh, yeah! It's been a busy week. First, viral pneumonia is not nearly as bad as bacterial pneumonia. And, indeed, we caught Bridget's viral pneumonia/chest cold early.

Ok. So let's back up a bit. Bridget appeared to come down with croup (from her brother, as you may recall) last Monday. I am not that worried about croup, so I saw no need to call the doctor. And then Bridget sort of melted over both Dave and me and wouldn't move from sitting in our lap with her head on our shoulder.

Lethargy is never a good sign in a feisty child, particularly one with a fever.

Additionally, Monday night, Bridget started throwing up. Tuesday morning, we opted to go in to the doctor, because again, Bridget could not even lift her head off our shoulder.

I expected the doc to give me another lecture about how viruses can cause croup, blah, blah, but instead he put Bridget right on a nebulizer. Fortunately, her breathing cleared up so no need for x-rays or oxygen. Instead, we went home with an albuterol inhaler and orders to come back Friday.

The virus continued this course for a while. Bridget has no energy, ran a high-ish fever (102 to 104), threw up, and as she got better, had diarrhea. And of course, there was the junky cough. Coughs are not good indicators of chest colds/viral pneumonias. Lethargy is. REMEMBER THAT if your child loses all his or her energy.

So, yeah. She's better now. The ultra-conservative doctor put her on an antibiotic which freaked both Dave and me out. This doc HATES antibiotics and to give her one without her having a bacterial infection really freaked me out.

In any case, school starts back next week and I am completely not ready for it. Last week, I had planned on doing what I'm doing this week. But I couldn't leave my little baby while she was this sick. So I'm trying to catch up this week before next week starts. I'm a wee bit freaked out.

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.

Summer School

{Start blog}

{Insert paragraph bemoaning lack of blogging activity}

{Insert paragraph subtly rescinding apology because current state of life eliminates ability to post}

{Insert long and winding paragraph expressing hope that current state of life will pass by and sleep and mental abilities will be restored}

{Mention recent blog post written in head about Charlotte Observer's series about SIDS being over used on infants' death certificates (good) and arguing that cosleeping will kill children (bad). Provide link along with compelling argument as to why Charlotte Observer's attempt to win a journalism article has provided poor and misleading advice to parents.}

{Provide witty and entertaining account of twins' first birthday, along with Bridget's ability to walk like a zombie monkey and Christopher's current status of taking 3 steps. Share engaging stories of Conor, which woo the reader to perceiving the wonderousness that is this child}

{Mention that summer school is nearly over and how little research has been done but class has been a boatload of fun}

{/End blog}

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.

Oh, Dear

We've been praying for an easy year this year. Apparently, God said HA! Well, it's not that bad, but it's certainly not "easy."

First, last week, my good old friend "Aunt Flo" returned. I was actually quite surprised. My cycles started back up when Conor hit 10 months old. The twins are 10 months and 3 weeks old now, so the timing is about right. But now I am breastfeeding TWINS. Two babies. One boob for each. And yet, my cycle has returned. I have imagined the conversation going on inside my body:

Ovaries: Should we send one down? It's about that time again.

Boobs: No way! I'm workin' double time up here. There's no way she would be able to support another baby.

Uterus: Have you SEEN her ass? Go on, Ovaries! Send one down. Heck, send two!

So that was a lot of fun.

Then on Friday, we were filmed for part of a Blue Cross Blue Shield Commercial. I'll post more about that when it comes out, but despite having lived in Los Angeles for 10 years, we were a bit surprised about the crew that arrived for the process. Make up, lightening, sound, BCBS big wigs, and a director and producer. My role was essentially to stare lovingly at Dave as he told our story, not for any sexist, "wifely" reason and pretty much because I had no idea what had actually happened. Sadly, my staring at Dave involved looking at him in profile, and I predict an uncanny resemblance to Professor Snape in the commercial.

On Saturday, we attended our first NICU reunion party. This was quite nice. It was a HUGE party with lots of families attending. We saw a couple of our nurses, which was quite nice. We did not see our favorite nurse, but we also missed Nurse Control-A-Lot, so overall it was a win.

This morning, on the other hand, I had to attend an academic integrity hearing for a student of mine whom I caught plagiarizing. You might think that would be an easy thing to do: AHA! A student has been caught doing wrong! I will get him/her!! You cannot imagine how it is not like that at all. At our school, hearings are rare. Most of the time, students get a "settlement" in which they admit their guilt, receive their "penalty" and the information is kept top secret for 8 years and then destroyed. So, cases like this are the exception.

And this case did not go as expected. There was lying, denying, external attributions of fault, anger, sulking, admissions of other plagiarism, and general Things That Are Not Good. And that was just me!!

I jest.

It was bad. And it was bad to see the student do what I would presume are all the same things that have gotten him/her out of trouble before. This was not a growth experience for this student. This was not a moment that is going to make him or her finally straighten up and fly right. This was just one stop in what I would guess is going to be a long line of messing up rather significantly. He/She did not get out of this. He/She was found guilty and was dealt a pretty severe penalty. Still, there is no relief.

And the emotional fallout for me has, surprisingly, been high. I protect my students. I cheer them on and coach them and want them to grow and do well. I recognize that not all are at that stage in their lives or have that goal, but if they want it, I want to help them achieve it. It's not fun and it's not why I'm a professor.

Oh and what else? I forgot to register to review for a conference so I may have let that person down. I have my first dissertation defense on Friday (on self harm in adolescent girls. Light and fun topic!!). I have 25 student project papers arriving tomorrow and another student waiting for another review. AND Christopher has a double ear infection and is quite cranky/sick.

There is more. There is always more. But I'm sure you're tired of hearing of my whining. God(dess) knows I am.

Why I Don't Post More

This is photo tableau of why I do not have time to blog. They keep us on our toes from morning to night. If they just weren't so darn cute.

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.

Hello There

So there's busy. And there's working mother of 10 month old twins and a 5 year old and a working husband. Hello!

I'm not leaving this blog. But I may be on leave this semester from it. By the time we get the babies to sleep and the place somewhat cleaned up, I just want to sit down with a glass of wine and watch TV. Even if that does happen, I usually only get 30 minutes to 1 hour of free time. And the often brain work required to do that is more than I have left.

And I don't really feel bad about that. I feel bad about a boatload of other things. But not about neglecting this too much. Except, I do feel bad about not documenting the twins' babyhood as well as I did Conor's. I know that happens moving from the first to subsequent children, but I still feel guilty.

Especially when I have such news to report as Bridget nearly walking and Christopher clearly saying "Daddy" (no Da Da) to Dave. Christopher has also started playing advanced Peek-a-boo with whatever linen he can find. And I just checked the previous blog entry and I did not mention that Bridge started to cruise about a month ago and can now stand up momentarily on her own. Christopher has just started creeping, in comparison, but he's still pretty darn proud of it.

Why here he is, creeping up on poor Patches instead of being in bed. Another difference in first vs. later children is that if one isn't ready for bed, I don't sit in the bedroom rocking for an hour until he goes to sleep. I'm sure we've doomed him or Bridget to a lifetime of horrible sleeping, but that's just too damn bad. I can't sit up there that long any more. And I don't believe it anyway.

As for the thousands of conversations I have in my head on this blog, the latest is what a witch I was on Easter! Yes! I won the award for worst mother of the year on Easter morning...BEFORE church! When we walked in and saw our friends, they kindly said "Happy Easter!" My blaring eyes, wild hair and frothing gave away my true meaning when I said "HAPPY EASTER TO YOU TOO!"

I'll simply provide the 15 minute highlight of dressing the twins in their very expensive outfits and then us all losing it. These highlights include: figuring out that their sailor outfits were not navy blue, but were black. Dressing infants! In black! For Easter!!

Then Christopher's button came off before I could even put his outfit on!! Did I mention EXPENSIVE? (And I don't mean "target" expensive)

Then we went down for pictures---one button gone be damned! I was going to take some pictures. Conor is running around the house in corduroys despite the hot weather. I sent him to change his clothes and he came back with a decent outfit and a tobaggon on his head he wouldn't take off. Fine.

"Sit down with the twins to get your picture taken."

"No."

"Sit!"

"NO!!!"

"Fine!!! Then years from now when you look back and don't see yourself in these pictures I'll tell you that you refused to do it!!!!!" <--the peak of my bad motherness.

Seven bad pictures later, another button fell off of Christopher's EXPENSIVE BLACK EASTER OUTFIT. It only had 4 buttons! And 2 fell off in 10 minutes.

I believe that I was enraged at this point. All those images in my head of beautiful Easter pictures of my children in their matching Easter outfits (none black, by the way) as we go to church to have everyone oooh and aaaaaw of their cuteness is completely blown. I am so angry. So mad at the everybody. So achingly frustrated. And we're going to Church. On EASTER.

It got better. But it didn't start off that well. And now I've made my confession to you.

Time to relax. After I get Christopher back to bed and actually to sleep.