Santa's Gift

This year, Santa gave J.D. a Cozy Coupe. It was the perfect gift; he saw it and jumped right in. The only problem was that G was already in it. They worked it out, in fact, they got along quite swimmingly for a while. This is Christmas morning.

"We love the Coupe! Thanks Santa!!"

This is one of my favorite twin pics of all time. I mean, this is a serious keepsake. Look at J.D.'s little hand on G. Darling. He's like, "This is getting a little tight."

Unfortunately, Santa didn't really think through the gift. I mean, did he realize we have two babies? Two babies who like to go fast. Two babies who don't like to share. Two babies who are a tiny bit prone to the old push and shove.

This just happened.

G is like, "I can't see the road, Dad!"

Ok, this just isn't working...

...at all.

J.D. gives it one more shot. "I know I can make this work!"

But Dad intervenes. So much for being a two-seater.

Marker Fight

The twins are really starting to communicate now. People ask me all the time if they have their own language. I have to pause and analyze the definition of language. I mean, verbally, they don't really have a whole lot going on.

G babbles from morning until night, and it's all very important, pressing business. She has tons of words, and learns a new one almost everyday. For example, when I am getting her dressed in the morning, she lies on the changing table screaming "zsoo, zsooooo!!" Which is "shoe" for all you uneducated in 19 month old-ease. G is such a girlie girl, she wants the whole, complete outfit before going out to face the day. She also knows that shoes, plus a jacket equal going somewhere, and that is the twins' one and only goal in the morning. When they see me getting dressed, they go half-crazy trying to figure out if they get to go, too, and then if the poor baby-sitter shows up, she's welcomed with screams, since they now know the truth. They will go no where, and they will like it.

J.D., on the other hand, is a little stunted in the old language department. He just screams if something doesn't go his way, and he says "Da Da" like a thousand times and day, but that's about it. Oh yeah, and "cack-o," which is, of course, "cracker." That boy loves a good cracker. My friends with boys all say this is totally normal. Boys are just a little slow, in fact, apparently, they never really catch up to girls. We start out talking more than them, and that's just a race they're never going to win.

Anyway, another type of communication is body language. This is mainly how the twins choose to communicate. Just a look, a touch, a gesture, is all they really need to know to figure out how the other is feeling or thinking.

To illustrate the twins' use of body language, here's the twins having a gentle disagreement over markers.

G found them first, and she guards them close to her body, aware of impending threats.

J.D. enters the scene, and they agree to play in two adjoining camps.

Playtime is peaceful, calm and full of wonderful, sharing moments. I am on the lookout for markers in the mouth. That's all I really care about.

J.D. has all the markers now. Suddenly, (and I didn't get this shot, dang it!), G sees the full marker can, bolts for it, swipes it out from under his nose and high-tails it, as only G can.

J.D. is slow to re-cover, but his wrath is apparent. She is running quite quickly here, as her little blurred bunny tail indicates.

J.D. admits defeat, and feigns interest in a princess book (which he has never touched, except to step on, in his whole life).




Then he decides to go for it. The tapping of the markers hitting the bottom of the can is too much to bear. He sees me. He sees the camera. He pauses.




Then he goes in for the kill, without a care in the world for the consequences. He grabs her arms, and apparently enjoys this little exchange, while she tries in vain, to make a run for it.

Mom intervenes, saying, "No no!" He drops to the floor in a very dramatic statement, and cries for 25 seconds.

Then he gets up and is like, "Fine, you have the markers, I'll enjoy these beautiful pink beads." This is so cold! G loves those beads, and he knows it!

He totally knows what he's doing.

Then he gets distracted playing with his toolset and truly forgets about the markers.

G happily welcomes E for some wonderful, harmonious, girly, give and take play. They are both 100% in their element.

Another sister joins the game. All is well.

Even with J.D.

That's G's sippy. He knows it. He is nonverbally saying, "So what about those stinkin' markers! I have your sippy, and it's full of delicious apple juice.

Just wait 'til next time, sis."

Our New Dog

We got a new dog! Well, she's not really a brand new dog, we've had her for about seven years now, but the kids were all convinced we'd traded our old one in for a new and improved model. This story would be 10 times funnier if I had taken a pre-picture of our poor, neglected pooch. She's a schnauzer, and this breed of dog is supposed to be groomed and clipped about every six weeks. Well, with our busy schedule we just kept forgetting to take her, or we'd make an appointment, and a kid would get sick, etc. So, her hair got so long, that she had a serious problem due to the long hair, and I'm not going to go into any details, but my heroic husband had to "take care" of the problem and he had to take a shower afterwards.

She looked like a dark gray mop with dreadlocks. The hair on her face was covering her eyes, which caused other problems. She had sticks, leaves, and burrs stuck to her, and had stopped trying to chew them out. It was bad.

So while I took J.D. to the doctor (for another double ear infection), my mom took Button, oh, that's the name of our scruffy mess, to the groomer's. When she emerged later that afternoon, I was shocked to see that an actual purebred schnauzer existed under that mass of thatched fur.
She looked beautiful, and more importantly, very different from the way she'd looked only six hours earlier.

She looked so different in fact, that when the babies woke up from their naps, and went outside to wander around, they didn't recognize her. They were totally thrown off by this new dog in our yard. G started screaming and crying and saying "doge, doge, doge!" Which is her way of saying "there's a scary dog"!!! J.D. just totally avoided her but kept staring at her, like, "I think I know you, but you're like twice as small as you used to be, and you have eyes?"

Look how regal Button is sitting here. She is so proud, she actually sat still to let me take this picture. It's really amazing how much more attention a beautiful animal gets over an ugly, stinky one. Sadly, this is probably true of the human world as well. Our society places so much value on beauty and physical appearance. Anyway, I digress...

The girls were thrilled with the new Button. I mean, she's adorable now. She had the night of her life, receiving treats, pets, hugs, and tummy scratches all night long. Not once did somebody pull on her long hair or tug her beard, she lived the life of a loved, clean, treasured family pet.

The Uncle Effect

Something strange happens to my kids whenever an uncle, or uncle figure (yes, I'm talking about you, Luke), steps foot inside our house. They become wild, frenzied, yelping animals who jump all over this poor family member as if he was their last hope for having fun in this lifetime. Unfortunately for the uncle, we have four kids, and these little ruffians don't really understand the concept of personal space or courtesy boundaries. They go to the absolute limit of their animal-like behavior, until the uncle finally mutters, "Ok, I'd better go check on the wife..." And then we don't see him for a good week or two.

Well, Uncle C was the lucky recipient of their wild temperment tonight. He walked in, planned on being all business, so handed over some accounting papers, but little did he know the danger lurking in every corner. It all started innocently enough.

Let's play catch!

Let's play catch with ALL the balls!




Uncle C remains cool, despite the girls yelling, "Hit him in the face! No, hit him in the eyes!"



Uncle C attempts to regain control of the situation.




Check out Cubby's foot, that's a serious kick. And Uncle C is totally prepared....but not for long.

Look who just woke up from their naps!

"Are you guys playing with balls? I love balls."




"I will do anything to get balls."




"You better be ready!"



We have had this ball bin for 3 years now, and J.D. is the only kid to have crawled into it like this. Boys and girls are so different! He has no qualms about commando crawling into just about anywhere, including wire cages.



"I don't really care for balls. Anybody want to play princess?"

"Did somebody say princess?"

Two on one.

Three on one.

What's funny is that Danny and I kept saying, be careful kids. But, we weren't saying be careful with Uncle C, we said, be careful of the glass cabinets! He can take it.

Finally the girls had their fill of balls, so J.D. got to show off his arm.

He loved the one on one time with Uncle C.

Check out that arm! Nice form!

Thanks for the visit, Uncle C.

On a total side note, this is what "Party in the USA" by Miley Cyrus does to my kids:

Table dancing.

No comment.

Sleep Deprivation and Dieting Don't Mix

Last Friday afternoon, little G spiked a fever of 102, and since she'd been battling a cough and congestion for the two weeks prior to Friday, I prayed her cold hadn't developed into an infection. I should know by now that this is a pattern for my kids: get sick, stay sick for a few weeks, sickness gets worse, fever spikes, and an infection creeps in. Poor J.D. suffered from an ear infection after following this exact same pattern just two weeks ago.

So today, my heavenly pediatrician, whom I will not name, since I want to hoard him all to myself, and his office is already getting a bit to busy for my taste, checked little G out, and yep, she had a pretty severe ear infection in her right ear. Clara and I ran over to Wal-Mart to get the prescription, which, as a side note, will be my last trip to Wal-Mart for prescriptions, since the pharmacist tried to give me the WRONG medicine for my 19 month old baby! Needless to say, I am just glad I happened to be paying attention when he tried to hand it over, since the medicine wasn't the right color.

This weekend was extremely tough. So tough, it reminded Danny and I of our first six months or so with the twins. It took us to a whole new level of fatigue, anxiety, and frustration. Taking care of four little kids is challenging enough, but to add a sick one to the batch, really turns up the heat. So anyway, ever since Friday night, little G could not sleep. She just wanted to be up. And held. And preferably rocked. By me. I had a tough time that first night, and Danny and I tag-teamed it pretty well. The second night was a nightmare because she would wake up screaming, and we had no idea what was wrong. Finally, we thought, she could be in a pain, let's give her some ibuprofen. That helped calm down the screaming, but it didn't do much to get her to go to bed. She wanted to sleep right between us in bed, with her two little sweaty hands resting on me and Danny. She would wake up coughing and gagging, it was terrible.

So Friday and Saturday night were pretty much the same. Danny and I took turns holding her, calming her, staying up with her. On Sunday, while at my mom's having dinner, my lovely sister offered her baby swing, and I brushed it off, like we don't need that. I totally missed Danny's look of, Oh yes we do!! So, pretty much, Danny had to drive over to my sister and her hubby's house at 10:00 PM on Sunday night to haul the baby swing over to our house (yes, I had a baby swing, but gave it away a few months ago since it couldn't swing anymore under the girth of Queen G). Well, this baby swing was bigger and better than my old swing, and G slept for a full hour in it, before waking up and........screaming. It was another terrible night.

What is so amazing about all of this, is that Friday is the day I started my big awesome diet. I know that the lower calorie, healthier foods and smaller portions I've been eating are good for me. But see, in the past, when I was suffering from lack of sleep and exhaustion, I would eat something high in sugar or carbs to give myself a little boost to make it through that moment. Well, I can't do that anymore. Today I had a red bell pepper for a snack. Yep, that's what I have to look forward to. I dipped the pieces in hummus, but still, it's no donut.

I am happy to report that despite the massive sleep deprivation I have endured that last three nights, I have completely stuck to my diet, and already feel much better, just pretty darn tired. I am going to go now and pray for sleep.

Crayons

We spent a surprisingly harmonious evening with the kids last night. The girls are at the point where they can spend hours coloring or painting. They love art projects, and actually sit together quietly engrossed in their work, unless they are interrupted. And, unfortunately, that happens a lot in our house.

The girls have had to learn how to manage their art supplies and manuever around so that the babies don't grab the markers or crayons. The babies both have one goal in common: capture and eat any and all writing utensils they find. They comb the house first thing in the morning looking for forgotten crayons so that they can bite the sharp ends off and enjoy a little snack before breakfast. The worst is when the get ahold of a marker without the cap, or actually even with the cap, since they've learned how to take the lids off. They love to suck on the marker, so that their mouths become saturated with color. I can't tell you how much I freaked out when G came around the corner into the kitchen one day with a dark blue mouth. Gross.

Anyway, I was impressed with how well the girls were doing with the art projects, and yes, that includes little G. You'll notice I didn't mention how well J.D. was doing with the art, scroll down to see what happened.

Here is our budding artist, adding a pink princess to her landscape.

Cubby is working hard on writing her name. You go overachiever!

Even little G got in on the action, and didn't eat one crayon! She actually did some coloring! I had to hold the paper down so she wouldn't color on the table, but hey, it's a start!

G's masterpiece. She is very advanced for her age.

Here are my three girls. All working together, quietly sharing, not eating the crayons. This is a moment of parental bliss for me.

Uh oh. J.D. showed up, and two of the girls clear the scene. My oldest braves it out alone.

He quickly grabs the orange. See how he's holding it? Classic pickpocket style.

He saw me looking at him, so he pretends to look for paper.

"I wasn't going to eat it mom, jeez, can I just have some paper?!"

And then, quick as a flash, J.D. goes for it. He's caught in a double whammy: eating a crayon and tearing up Cubby's artwork. She takes care of business and avoids being bitten. Good job. I don't get involved, I figure I need visual records of the altercation.

As usual, J.D. finds solace with good old dad. The girls return to their art, and our home is peaceful again.....for about 3.5 minutes.