Father's Day was a dandy

Sometimes I sweat and start to twitch...

Two days ago... I took the boys to the grocery store and a local shop to pick up a few goods. And lets just say... by the end of it... I may have cussed once. I may have started to sweat heavily. My eye might have even twitched. 

TWIN TWO-YEAR-OLD BOYS don't make a quick pit-stop into the store an easy breezy thing to do. In the check-out isle, the lady behind me looked at me quite smirkish and said, "glad it's you and not me". An experience like that one reminds me of this: 

( holding a bottle with my chin for one and spoon-feeding the other... at the same time)

 But... I'm glad it's me. 

boo boo for two... or three

Just ONE... (which doesn't happen often when you have twins)

A couple nights ago... Da-da came home and took Braveheart to the store. Tenderheart stayed home with me. And let me tell you... having ONE child is different than TWO. We danced. We read books. We put on matching Bert and Ernie hats. I didn't have to carry them BOTH at the same time. I didn't have to break up "toy-tug-a-wars". I could just focus on ONE precious individual. I could give them ALL of my love and attention. Now... it's not that I can't give them all of myself when they are both with me. And, it's not that I don't love having them together. But... I think that alone time with each child is soooooooooo good. I saw things in my little Tenderheart that at times get overlooked when amidst the rustle and bustle of TWO. There is nothing better than having the four of us together. BUT... time spent with ONE is very precious. It's much like the joy of a family/friends cookout. It's such a wonderful time. And it's just as wonderful and needed as an intimate candle-light dinner with your spouse.  

Da-da came home with Braveheart smiling as bright as tinsel. He quickly buried his head in one of the shopping bags to pull out a match box car and gave it to his brother.  It's as if he said, "we got it at the store, Brother!" And Tenderheart had a certain triumphant twinkle in his eye... for he knew that he had danced to Billie Jean with Momma for the past 30 minutes!  (Alright... maybe not the best song for him to memorize the words to... but it's just so AWESOME!) 

So... we are going to try to do this "one child" thing once a week. Even if it's just an hour. It's a very special hour. 

TRUST, TRACTORS and TIME

So, our house looks like a construction site these days. Because IT IS. We are building a deck, a patio and front steps right now. There is heavy machinery in the garage. Huge piles of patio pavers and thinga-magigy-hoosies (tools) laying around in the yard. There are shovels, tractors, holes, boards, saws, sand and gravel piles. Does it keep us inside? Heck no. We play right in the midst of it. And they LOVE it. Tractors fill their dreams at night. And a dirty bum is their favorite look. 

Today, we were playing outside. I looked down for one moment, and then back up again... and they were gone. I just about puked and ran around the house to find them right around the corner playing in a pile of sand. Sand that Papa and Dada need for the patio. I gave them the "not impressed" look and said that they needed to come back over near Momma. I added that Dada and Papa needed the dirt to stay in the pile (as opposed to being chucked across the lawn because it felt cool to chuck it). They both stared at me, with the look of: "I know exactly what you are saying and I'm thinking to myself whether or not I should listen to you." And sure enough... they BOTH got up off their dirty bums and walked over to a pile of dirt that was closer to mom. Dirt that Papa and Dada didn't need in a pile. I was proud of them. I tapped them on their little curly-cu heads. 

Now, my boys are turning 2 in just a couple months. So, for the past few months/year... they have been gaining their independence. For a couple of months.... they did not listen WHAT-SO-EVER when I told them, "Don't touch that." It is part of their nature to test the limits. We all had to. We all learn like that. But day by day, through a growing trust, a learning trust, they are listening, and watching and following a direction that is not of their own. But it takes time. 

So I was thinking of how awful and precious time is. It's awful to have to wait for something. Yet it's precious what that "waiting time" brings to a relationship. Time brings trust, doesn't it? You can't have it automatically. You can never rush it. You have to wait for it. Raising children is like a long waltz of trust, I believe. Every couple days they "reach" a new stage... and they push those limits... and then they trust. And then they push. And then they trust. But in order to trust, they need you to be trustworthy. So, I'm gonna give it everything I've got to be so. And just like them, I'm sure I'm going to test the limits and push and then learn to follow something other than myself.    

Dirt behind the ears, red-neckin' back-yard and... 5 YEARS

Last night... Daddy was in the bathroom giving the kids a tubby. "Babe," he said, "There is dirt behind Tenderheart's ear that I think is from Ethiopia." 

 "I need some kind of wash clothe with grit." 

"Stat."

Tonight... my parents drove their motor-home down to our house and parked it in our back-yard. Yup. That's right. We are "one of those". 

That "house fixing up" thing I was telling you about is in full swing... and my husband and father are working on building a deck. My parents live almost an hour away from the house we are "fixing up" (and living in)... so instead of driving back and forth... they camp out. And it's awesome.

We get to hang out with them a bunch. We laugh at and with our children. Enjoying every little moment. We eat dinner together and drink wine together. Well... we "sort of" drink wine together... my Dad adds ginger ale to his. 50/50. I know. He is "one of those". We are workin' on him. 

Tonight, we ordered Pizza from a local shop. The owners (I think) are from Greece. They speak little English. And they are precious. I'm beginning to think that getting to know different people, places, cultures, and traditions is the real education we need. It is heart, mind and soul education. It's taking a bite of humble pie. And wanting more. 

The pizza box had NOT ONE DRIP OF GREASE left in it after that pizza was gone. Did I say incredible? No "sopping up grease with your napkin" here. No oompa-loompa-feeling after this pizza. No. Instead... you'll want to run the Boston Marathon. Better yet... the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Walk For The Cure. My boss at that coffee shop is walking and working hard to raise money for that 3 Day Walk. She's pretty wonderful I think. 

Speaking of Breast Cancer... in just a couple weeks... we will be celebrating the 5 year anniversary of the day they got that freaking-no-good-son-of-a-gun cancer out my Mom's beautiful body. 5 YEARS. 

And I'll end it on that. 

The Beach: Take 3

TAKE 1: A few weeks ago... it hit 70 degrees here in New England... and that my friends... is an EVENT. So, you do what most New Englanders do when it's like that... you go to the beach. My husband was fixing our vehicle... again. So it was just Mommy and the boys. It was a miraculous day. We met friends. We played until we were pooped. The sun was shining. The wind was nil. But the only thing was... Daddy wasn't there with us. 

So the next day, it was rumored to be "as nice". And Daddy was finished fixing the car. As soon as he was home from work we loaded the kiddos into the vehicle and headed for the beach. We wanted Daddy to enjoy it with us this time. And the day before was just incredible. So... obviously... this was going to be just as incredible. Even more so. Daddy was going to be with us. 

TAKE 2:

Do you see the gust of wind take the sand across the beach? Well... we ate it. I mean we ATE IT. Daddy went to throw away our dinner that we brought to eat on the beach. It was good... even with the added crunch. And while he went to find a trash can (hard to find in off season)... Braveheart took off. Down towards the water. I left Tenderheart in the sand to rescue Braveheart. Tenderheart was then caught in a sand hurricane. I stopped following Braveheart and went to rescue Tenderheart. I scooped up Tenderheart while he was spitting out sand and ran for Braveheart. By now... Braveheart had reached the water. I was yelling "stop!" and cursing Daddy for looking for a dumb, stupid trash can. Braveheart reached the freezing cold New England ocean water and decided to take a swim. "Son of a Nutcracker!" The "beach adventure" ended with Mommy and Daddy giving each other the "stink eye" holding our two crying, sandy, wet, and cold children. 

TAKE 3: 

Yesterday it was again "rumored" to be a dandy. We put the kids down early for a nap so we could take them to the beach when they woke. Yet, as we were nearing the beach... we were looking for the sun. Nowhere to be found. Though, Mr. Wind was found. Sand in teeth was found. But you know what? Joy was found too. 

And we were with Daddy. 

 And of coarse we had to end the day with a Coffee Shop stop to enjoy a hot chocolate.

Favorite Daddy-isms

So, we have had our little ones home now for a little over 1 year. And in that year... I catch myself smiling from the core of my gut at certain "Daddy" sayings or doings. These are things I have overheard or been able to witness. And here they are:

1. Daddy washing boys in the tub: "Hey... turn around so I can wash your noodle and your cakes." 

2. Daddy is putting the kid's PJ's on. Little Tenderheart has a pretty good sized birthmark on his left leg. Daddy pulls up his own pant leg to show Tenderheart that he also has a birthmark. They smile. MATCHING birthmarks. Little Braveheart looks disappointed. Where is HIS birthmark that matches Daddy's? They search for one. Disappointment. Fast forward to next day. Kids in the Tub. Daddy is washing them. Daddy exclaims, "Braveheart! Look! We've got matching dots!" They found one. And Braveheart almost hit the moon. 

3. Mom is making breakfast. Dad is changing one of the boys. Dad yells out to mom... "You know your life has changed drastically when you go to wipe poop off your baby's butt and while you pass by a package of chocolate chip cookies on the counter... you pop one in your mouth. Chewing cookies and changing poopie diapers at the same time. 6am.What has my life become?" 

4. Daddy kept one of his electric powered cars from when he was a kid. And now, he races it around while the kids try to get it. This is incredible entertainment for both parties: kids and Daddy. I haven't seen Daddy get this competitive in a while. And every now and then, I hear Daddy exclaim, "Did you see that?? He just split the D!! Ladies and gentlemen... he just split the D!!" 

I want to be like that...

For the past few weeks, I've been noticing something. My kids are getting heavier. And that means... when we dance around the living room floor to Adele's Rolling In the Deep, or Michael Franti's Hey, Hey, Hey... I can only hold one child. 

That means... the other one is left sitting on the floor while his brother is swept up into Mommy's arms... twirling around like Cinderella and her prince. And I noticed that (for the most part)... my other little one left on the floor smiles away. Watching the joy that his brother is experiencing. And he is filled with joy too. 

And I thought... I want to be like that. 

I want to see someone else's joy and happiness and success and be so filled with joy for them that it makes my face glows in it's reflection. Wouldn't that be nice? 

Make someone happy...

Weekend in the snow!

Trial run with a dog...

Friends of ours went away for the weekend and asked us if we would want to take care of their dog while they were gone. They knew we had dreams of having a dog, but didn't know if a dog would really "work" with our lives right now. So, it would be a perfect "trial run". We of coarse said, "yes"... because you see... this dog of theirs is the stinkin' cutest dog. Gracie. 

So, Gracie's parents dropped her off with food, goodbye kisses, and directions (complete with poop schedule). The first few hours with Gracie were touch and go. Not that Gracie wasn't a GOOD girl... just that Tenderheart and Braveheart were a little apprehensive to say the least. While the dog lay down... the boys would trot over to her... and yelp. "La!" (I love you)"Bla!" (your incredibly cool) "Wooh" (which is short for "woof"). The dog was a prized possession while she lay. She was lathered with kisses. She was rubbed, pet, snuggled. BUT then... when the dog stood... they would head for the hills (well... the couch that is). And the yelping was now just short of "bloody-murder" screams. 

 Needless to say, the first couple days we camped out on the couch, watching old-school Sesame Street featuring James Taylor, Paul Simon, and John Candy. What could be better?? After Daddy got home from work (day 2)... we headed up to my parents' house... which is basically... in the woods... on a lake.... and perfect for a doggy. 

The "bloody murder" yelps started to fade into "just murder" yelps... and then finally to just "yelps". Period. And then... laughter. And then kisses... not just laying down... but standing up. Paw shakes. Snuggles. Holding her tail. (Wanting) to ride her like a horse. Little boy tackles.

Gracie was amazing... never snarled. Only loved. And I think that a dog is in our near future. Sure, you gotta take it out to poop. Sure, you gotta feed 'em... train 'em... care for 'em. But the joy is worth it. So, thank you to our friends. Thank you to Gracie. And thank you Tenderheart and Braveheart... for coming off the couch. 

The Baby Whisperer

A couple months after we brought the boys home... we decided to try to let them "cry it out" at night. They were crying just because they wanted to be with us... and we said, "let's do this sleep training thing." With Braveheart, (the first we brought home)... he cried for a few nights and then owned it. Sleeping through the night like a teenager (well... almost). VERY few nights does he get up and cry... and usually... there is a reason (and of coarse we go to him). 

But Tenderheart was another story. Tenderheart is our little Asthmatic one, with Acid reflux... with other complications (a suspected whole in the esophagus... which leads to aspiration). So, with our little Tenderheart... we don't let him cry. Too much crying just isn't good for our little one. So, off and on... my husband and I get up in the night with little Tenderheart. For a while... I was the one getting up. However, my husband soon took the role of the "Bread winner" by day and the "Dad who gets up" by night, also. Bless his little soul. 

And then, we discovered something. When I would go in to their room at night... Tenderheart would especially enjoy his "snuggling" with Mommy. I would sooth him, snuggle him, lull him. And holding him lasted at least 15 minutes. When Daddy goes in to the bedroom... Daddy means business. He picks up Tenderheart, loves him, holds him, calms him... and then quickly puts him back to sleep and says, "ni-night".

So one night, Tenderheart cried. Daddy got up. Daddy opened the door... Tenderheart sat up. Saw that it was Daddy (and not Mommy) and laid back down. And fell asleep.

So we call Daddy the "Baby Whisperer". And we call Mommy "the one who has a sweet set up."

Dance Party

Untitled from jenny stevens on Vimeo.

The Funnies

                             TENDER HEART                    BRAVE HEART

So, these two "funnies" of mine woke up real early this morning. I usually like to be up before them... I gotta get "game ready" you know (i.e. coffee)? But... this morning they were up before me... which put less than a smile on my face. However, within 15 minutes... they had me laughing. I love these little "funnies" of mine. WHICH... makes me think about my favorite "funnies" moments:

1. Tubby Tooting: So... Daddy usually gives the kids a tubby in the evening. It's one of their favorite parts of the day. This particular evening I was making dinner and I heard Daddy cracking up. I walked into the bathroom.   Both kids were standing up and Brave Heart was trying to push out a toot. He did. It made the best sound... you know... wet butt cheeks and all. Well... that had us laughing. So of coarse he tried to do it some more. Well... he tried TOO hard. "Ah... you okay buddy?" "Buddy... don't push.. you'll get a Hemroid." "Babe... he kinda looks like he's gonna poop." "Nah. He's alright." I go back to cooking some dinner. 10 minutes later... "Ahh... EVACUATE!! Babe... get in here! Oh my goodness... scoop it out! Scoop it OUT!"

2. The Rescue: Kids are playing alone in their room. They are laughing. I am smiling. Then... I hear Tender Heart start squealing. I mean... like he's in BIG trouble. I start running to the room. Then, I hear Brave Heart start grunting. I mean like he's REALLY trying hard. I get to their room. Tender Heart is head-down in the toy-box. Feet up in the air. Brave Heart is pulling on Tender Heart's shirt trying to rescue him out of the toy box. And grunting. I pull Tender Heart out of the box. Brave Heart sighs. And smiles.

This Christmas...

Our Christmas was... well... maybe a little less-than to be desired. My poor husband had the flu. And little Tender Heart had a fever. The Christmas Concert that I absolutely cherish going to each year was sold out. Don't you think that a Christmas Concert at a Church should never be sold out? Well, I'm sure that it had something to do with the legal amount of people you can fit into the building. Bla bla bla. Whatever. AND... cause half my family was sick, and especially on Christmas Eve, we didn't go to church and feel the warming of the soul at the Candle Light service. We told ourselves that we will just stay at home and watch the movie "The Nativity". But we couldn't find it. Ba Humbug! Over the Christmas week we dragged the kids EVERYWHERE... which of coarse you WANT to do because you love being with your loved ones. But at the end of the day... or the end of the week... you shake your head and think about the un-godly amount of work it was for yourself... and the crazy ways in which your poor kids were pushed and pulled. I think that as a new mother of two... I learned a few things this year... which hopefully I will remember next year. So, now that you are thinking, "this girl sounds worse than the Grinch and Scrooge COMBINED" ... I'll let you in on a little secret... and tell you about the hour that my bad attitude turned into a better one.


Yesterday (the day after Christmas), I called my mom almost in tears and said, "Mom... I know how much your family wanted to see us and especially the boys... but we just can't make it. The kids are flipping out. Aaron is still sick and I'm exhausted. I'm really sorry." She of coarse understood. But knowing that our family was all together... eating, drinking, laughing and doing a crazy-fun Yankee-swap while we were at home doing NOTHING really was upsetting. 


The kids actually asked us to go to sleep at 5:00pm. "Ni-night" they said as they put their hand up to their cheek as a pillow. (What 18-month-olds ask to go to bed??? REALLY tired ones.) 


So... they were sound asleep at 5:30pm. My husband was comatose on the couch until he decided to go to bed also. And there I sat, at 7:30pm all alone. So... what did I do? I pulled out a bottle of red wine, poured myself a glass and watched the dumbest chick flick on television. I've never drank a glass of wine all by myself before. It was pathetic... and a little bit awesome at the same time. 


I was so "woe-is-me" it was sick. I kept sighing these pathetic sighs, thinking someone would hear me and say, "oh... I know... it WAS awful." But then, over the coarse of that "dumb chick flick", I began to soften. I realized just how truly self-sucking-bottom-dweller-like I was at that moment. And the beautiful little moments of Christmas began to surface in my mind. And here they are: (I would have to say that thinking of them makes me believe that this was actually a precious little Christmas. Yes, it was).

• Tender Heart began walking this Christmas season. He is so proud. He has watched his brother walk for the past 4 months and has been a bit upset about that. I'm not sure how much of his "rickets" problem had to do with this delay of development. OR... if some kids just walk a bit later than the "usual". But, as we look back at what his muscle strength and development were when he first came home... we are pretty proud. And as you can see from this picture... so is he. 

• We have friends, who, upon asking them what are some things they wanted for Christmas, answered, "A goat for a family in poverty." So thats what we got them. Well.... we actually got them medical aid for a village affected with HIV/AIDS, Malaria, etc.  

• Our families and friends CHERISH, I mean absolutely CHERISH, our sons. Its a beautiful thing when, at first mention of our adoption plans, some seem a bit timid, but then you watch as the year pans out to see them love these two more than life itself. I mean, they would probably cut off their left arm for these little ones. Golly... and their right one! I could tell that for them... Christmas was about taking in just how wonderful it is to be a part of loving these two.

• That my sister woke up at 5:15am on Christmas morning so that she could come spend time with us.

• The calm in the air as we drove to and from Christmas gatherings... seeing chimneys puffing smoke, seeing all the twinkle lights on, feeling the love in the loads of cars in each driveway, and hearing the non-stop Christmas music of hope and good will to all men. 

• Watching the "Today Show" the week before Christmas and seeing that all over the world, people still know what the true meaning of Christmas really is. And that people, lots of people are sacrificing, and giving, and loving during this season, and through the whole year. And those acts of kindness and goodness are being celebrated. 

• Experiencing Christmas as a very personal thing. Some of the longings of Christmas in the inner heart can't really be shared. They are very personal and can only be known by you. And when the longing is filled... the sacred rubs up against our shoulders. It's like all your "antennas" and "feelers" are working and you actually take in all that is taking place in a moment... the physical, the spiritual, the emotional, the intellectual. Mine was experienced while driving through the chaos near the shopping malls two days before Christmas. (Ironic? Yes.) I was listening to, "The Prayer" by Celine Dione. And the tears rolled down. (Wow... you don't realize how much of a sap you are until you write down just how many times you cry.) 

•  Every morning during this season, we would wake up, get the boys out of their cribs, bring them into the living room... and the first thing that Brave Heart would do is go over to the Christmas Tree and try to plug in the lights. Once the lights were on... he would smile. And Tender Heart would clap. 

•  Playing "Breath of Heaven" on the piano at church a few Sundays before Christmas. My sister, mother and grandmother sang beside me and my father played the guitar. 

• Greeting my brother-in-law at the airport when he arrived home safe from a semester in Italy (and bringing the little ones to surprise him).

• Trying to do "special things" with our new family of four... like going into the city and "ice-skating" (aka: sliding) on the frozen pond downtown. 

• Realizing that nothing GREAT is without some kind of sacrifice.  We no longer can get up and go to any Christmas party we want to... or stay out late. And we now have to spend an hour just packing up the "kids stuff" to get out of the house for 20 minutes. Sometimes I'm a tad-bit bitter about this... and then I come around.  

• When my father-in-law text me after reading my blog: "Thanks for being my daughter-in-law. Love."  

• When my Mom opened her gift from my sister, she and my Dad had tears in their eyes. It was a simple hand-made apron. But they knew just how much time and love was wrapped up in it.

• That my Mom got a new camera for Christmas (a Canon Digital SLR) and let me borrow it for a few days. It's so sick. (Sick as in wicked good... not sick as in the flu).  

• And here are a few more that can be said with pictures (from the sick camera):