Lost in Translation

Max: (rubbing his head, walks into my room) "Owwwww!"
Me: "What's wrong Max?"
Max: "I bumped into myself."

Max: (pouring some salt into the palm of his hand and tasting it)
Me: "How do you like that?"
Max: "Needs sugar!"

Dammit!

I allow my son to say dammit! I don't know if that's as unusual as I imagine, but I don't know any other kids who are allowed to get away with it, except for maybe Max's cousins. He always says it appropriately. For example...

Max: "Where's daddy?"
Me: "At work."
Max: "Dammit!"

or

Max: "DAMMIT!"
Me: "What's wrong?"
Max: "I got pee on my underwear!"

I've explained to him that he should not say this at school and that not all grown ups will think it's okay that he says this. I've told him that his dad and I don't think it's a big deal, but to be respectful if anyone asks him not to say it when we're not around. My husband always says that profanity is his second language. I don't swear very much, but I'm sure that Max hears a very frustrated "shit!" or "dammit!" from me from time to time. I feel like a hypocrite by using words that he is prohibited from. After all, if he shouldn't use them, then neither should we. And in the long run, they're just words. I think it's sort of ridiculous when people substitute their cursing words. I mean who cares if you say "damn" or "darn?" The sentiment is the same.

My Three Children

Let me start by saying I don't want to start labeling my girls with adjectives that will someday serve them as self-fulfilling prophecies. It's not necessary to me that they see themselves through my eyes. Quite the contrary. I would like for them to look in a mirror and define themselves, rather than let the perceptions of another define them. I try not to refer to one or the other as "the smart one," "the creative one," "the moody one" or any of the like. That being said, my two girls evoke such different emotions from me.

Lauren is pensive. She looks worried and carries a furroughed brow much of the time. I feel such intensity from her...such sensitivity. I stare into her eyes and see my own reflection in her soulful, blue irises. She causes me to reflect. She causes me to search her face for clues. I want to see what she sees. I want to know myself as she knows me. There is no lying to those eyes. I want to hold her close and tell her that everything's going to be just fine. Sometimes, I don't feel that she is at peace unless she is in my arms.

Brooklyn makes me laugh. She smiles a lot. Sometimes all it takes is to make eye contact. She bursts into sunshine and I am showered in her warmth. She's generous with her hugs and you are never quite sure if you are holding her or she is holding you. She clings to my side like a spider monkey with absolute confidence. Her posture becomes perched. She's not quick to cry, but when she does, it is heart wrenching and inflicts a wound to the soul.

Max is often a contradiction of description. He can be sensitive and loving and then oblivious and rough. He will teach my girls to be tough. I'm glad, because it will help them to develop confidence. He still has an air of innocence, that can so easily start to slip away, even at such an young age. Yet at times, he broods like an old man. He is struggling with independence and beams with delight at his accomplishments. In moments of peaceful stillness, his tender expression comforts me. If I could give pause, I would stop the universal clock from ticking in those moments.

Cold Coffee

• Make a fresh cup of coffee.
• Nature calls before taking that first sip, head for the bathroom.
• Notice trash can in bathroom almost overflowing.
• Finish up and take bathroom trash out.
• On the way, grab stray baby diapers and sippy cup sitting on dresser from last night.
• Add diapers to bathroom trash, drop sippy cup off in the kitchen sink and take trash outside.
• Pop in a DVD for Max.
• Scoop Brooke up off of the floor and plop her into high chair for breakfast.
• Take a sip of cold coffee.
• Make cereal for Brooke.
• Play tug of war with Brooke over spoon while feeding-get up to get her a spoon of her own to hold and pop coffee back into micrwave oven on the way back.
• Continue feeding Brooke when Max yells, "MOM!"
• Look over to see Lauren has tipped over a tall, potted plant and most of the soil is now on the floor.
• Re-pack the potting soil, noting it's dryness.
• Put plant outside on front porch for watering, bring two others with it.
• Water houseplants and get distracted, continuing to water a few of the porch plants when Max yells, "MOM!"
• Return to the dog trying to get at the remainder of the baby food.
• Try to continue feeding Brooke, who is no longer interested.
• Remove her from high chair and insert Lauren in her place.
• Retrieve cold coffee from microwave oven, which has been beeping.
• Take two slugs of cold coffee and stick it back into the microwave.
• Get a bottle of formula for Brooke, who is complaining loudly, and plop her into a carseat with the bottle propped up with blankets.
• Attempt to feed Lauren...Yes!!...She is hungry and eating well.
• Interupt Lauren's breakfast to get Max a cup of milk.
• Grab a cracker for Lauren to keep her happy while I get the milk.
• Look for Max, then hear him yell, "MOM!" from the other room.
• Max is now pooping. "Do you need me to wipe you?" "No." "Why did you call me in here?" "I love you." "I love you too Max...call me when you're done." "Okay."
• Return to feeding Lauren, sit down, when Max yells "MOM!" "I'm done!"
• Return to Max, wipe his bum and wash my hands.
• Return to feeding Lauren, who is no longer interested.
• Put her on the floor to play.
• Give Max his cup of milk.
• Get my coffee out of the microwave...it's cold.
• Grab a couple of ice cubes and try for iced cofee instead.

Brookenstein

The only way I can think of to describe Brooke's smiles, is a quote from a movie...

"She has 600 different smiles. They can light up your life. They can make you laugh out loud, just like that."

She laughs and smiles quickly and readily, which encourages people to respond to her wherever we go.

When you pick her up, you have to be careful not to do it too quickly, as the momentum can almost make you launch her airborne, as she feels so light. In actuality, she is not. She is in between the 75th and 90th percentiles for her height and weight. Nevertheless, she is quite compact and muscular. She has washboard abs and it's easy to misjudge her size. She will cling to you like a spider monkey, either burying her face in your neck or confidently facing outward, for a bird's eye view.

She has been standing since she could sit. When we first started to pull her into a sitting position, she immediately crunched her tummy muscles and locked her little legs in place, amazing us all. She has been standing ever since. She crawled the same day that she sat up on her own with support and she pulled herself up into a standing position only 17 days later. All this happened during her 6th month of life. We are expecting her to walk any day now, as she frequently stands without support.

It's hard to get a photograph of her that isn't blurry. She is always in motion. It's hard to feed her, dress her, bathe her and change her diaper...all because she won't hold still. When I put her into her Jumperoo, she starts "jumping" before I can even lower her into it.

Even though she often gets "punked" by Lauren, she has learned to get a few licks in from time to time, as I have caught her flapping her arms on Lauren, in effect beating on her.

Brooke loves to eat the dog's dry kibble food and we must pick it up from the floor often. She is our daddy's girl and just melts at the sight of him. She is cuddly and affectionate when she is in the mood, otherwise, don't restrain her! She will hoot and hollar until you break her restraints.

Brooke is active, social and independent. She is an absolute joy!

Should I Worry?

So Max and I are sitting around, just hanging out together, while the babies are asleep. He is lounging on the sofa, playing games on my iphone and I am sitting on the floor, watching the movie, "Sex and the City."

Max is completely involved in his games and not really paying attention to the movie...or so I think. A scene comes on where Samantha is fixing sushi for her boyfriend and then lays down, naked, arranging the sushi on herself, in anticipation of his homecoming for Valentines day. Anyway, Max happens to look up and asks "what is she doing?" I reply, "she's making sushi and then she put in her naked self as a joke." Then Max says, "I wish I could have shooshi on me when I'm naked too." Should I worry?

Professor Lauren

My girl Lauren is in the 100th percentile for her height and weight. When you pick her up, she is quite substantial to hold. Despite her size, she has a very feminine personality. She has shown a lot of interest in studying her long, slender fingers, undulating them in the air, staring at them intently...as if trying to understand how they work.

She's definitely a "mommy's girl" and is not very happy when I'm absent. It's easy to get a sense of depth, when you gaze into her eyes, which she can do for lengthy periods. People often comment that she is "so serious," when they fail to make her laugh easily. I don't think they notice how intensely they're being evaluated by her, as she fails to respond to their antics and, instead, studies the details of their face. She scares easily and she cries easily.

Lauren is also a thief. She steals everything and anything from her sister. Even if she already has the same item in her hand, she will reach over and take Brooke's away from her, much to Brooke's well displayed dismay!

Lauren is not the squeaky wheel. If I chose a single word to describe her temperament, it would be "chill," because that's how laid back she is. She's content just to hang out, most of the time and does not get into a lot of trouble...so far. She loves to vocalize and practices "bah bah bah..." and "mah mah mah."

She loves laying underneath the electronic birdy mobil, holding the remote control and making it go off and on. She flaps her arms and rocks back and forth with absolute joy when I present her with the Gymbo the Clown puppet.

She's a sweet, sensitive soul...my little Professor Lauren.

This One and That One

Recently, another mom of twins asked me if I called my girls "this one" and "that one." I thought about it for a minute, reflecting back on when they were in utero and I called them Thing One and Thing Two or Baby A and Baby B. As far as nick-names are concerned, my husband and son have started calling our girls "Professor Lauren" and Brookie-Sue." We also call them little "chickens." I couldn't think of any instances when I had called them "this one" or "that one." Then, today, it happened. Not only did I call them "this one" and "that one," but I also refer to them as "the other one."

Me: "Max, can you get me a diaper for this one?"
Max: (bringing back two diapers)
Me: "I didn't need a diaper for the other one."
Max: "Which one?"
Me: "That one (as I point to the baby who doesn't need diapering).

So there was my moment of recognition..."OMYGOD, I call them THIS ONE and THAT ONE!"
How tacky.

Can't Sleep, Must Blog

I've been feeling so guilty about not blogging lately. Even more so, for not journaling about my baby girls...and Max. When Max was around 4 months old, I had started a journal about him. I journaled for two reasons. First, because I needed an outlet to express all my feelings and experiences as a new mother and second, because I wanted him to have a record of himself and to someday know how much he was loved and cherished.

From there, I created a blog, being careful not to clutter it up with any other subject but him. I turned the blog into books, so that if the blog ever ceased to exist, I would have a record of it. I used http://www.heritagemakers.com/ and couldn't be happier with the outcome.

Anyway, my days are full of thoughts about record keeping, blogging, filling out baby books, etc., but the reality is, I just never seem to fit any of it in. It is so overwhelming to take care of two infants and a 4 year old, pretty much all by myself, on a daily basis. A lot of things get redistributed to the bottom of the priority list, almost on an hourly basis. This being said, I'll be darned if I let this time slip away without making a record of it for my children.

So it is with renewed vigor, that I plan to get my butt back in gear. And now, at 3:22am, I will try to go back to sleep, having purged my guilt.