Anna's hair

Thursday morning I was combing Anna's hair.  It was looking especially cute, with all the curls accentuating her natural highlights.  I said, "Anna, I love your hair."

Anna exclaimed, in a silly voice, "I love you, too, Mommy!"  Then, in her own voice, she commented, "My hair loves you, too."

Apples and pears

I took the girls to the apple orchard yesterday.  We had such a wonderful time.  There are few things I like better than getting out into an orchard and picking apples in the beautiful autumn weather with my kids.  It will be even nicer next year when the twins are older and the whole family can go.

The girls both had a wonderful time, as well.  Kate loved picking apples and pears with her friend who'd also come, and Anna loved eating the apples.  She picked about six apples, and she ate three of them, all the way to the core.  She would have eaten more, but I finally had to cut her off, telling her we could have more tomorrow.  There sure are enough apples for us to have many every day all fall.  We picked three reusable grocery bags full of them, 47 pounds in all. 

We had a rough time getting ready for bed last night.  The girls were both overtired from having been sick and then having such a busy day.  Kate was really whiny and Anna wasn't being very cooperative.  When Anna wouldn't let me brush her teeth, I used what I thought was an excellent line.  Thinking of how much she loved the apples, I said, "Oh, Anna.  This might be so sad.  Little girls who don't brush their teeth can't eat apples." 

Anna looked thoughtful a moment, and then asked, "Pears?" 

I tried not to let my amusement show, and I replied in a sad voice, "No, not pears either."

Then, to show me she just didn't care, she spewed out her version of a slur, "Apples in a dumb bag."

I wasn't sure I'd heard her right, so I asked Kate what she said.  Kate repeated in a very factual tone, "Apples in a dumb bag."

I looked at Anna very seriously.  She looked defiantly back and repeated, "Apples in a dumb bag."

I didn't draw upon any more of my brilliant parenting tools.  I just burst out laughing.

Costume plans

The kids and I have been planning costumes for months.  I was kind of hoping for all the kids' costumes to be along one theme, but Anna lives for Jessie from Toy Story, and Kate has had her heart set on Strawberry Shortcake since spring.

Although I've always been adamant about making the costumes, this year something had to give.  I compromised by ordering a Jessie costume and just concentrating on making Kate's Strawberry Shortcake costume.  We are going to start this week, so Kate had to decide which Strawberry Shortcake she wanted to dress like.  The new one, whom I think of as "Sexy Strawberry Shortcake":

or one of the ones from when I was a kid, more of an old-school Strawberry Shortcake look:

We hadn't decided which look she was going to go with, but I'd been trying to plan what to dress the twins as.  This morning in the playroom, I said, "Kate, maybe Ally will go as Custard [Strawberry Shortcake's cat], and Anna, would you like it if Luke dressed as Woody?"

Kate, thinking for a moment about her costume said, "Since I have the hair, I think I'll go as the Old Testament Strawberry Shortcake."

Not a good time

For weeks Dave had been making comments to Anna about potty training.  We had tried potty training Anna a few months ago, when I was 6 or 7 months pregnant. When, despite our best efforts, it didn't work, we decided we'd have to wait until after the babies were a couple months old and things had settled down.

Nonetheless, Dave was talking to Anna about how she should start going potty in the toilet, or how she should wear big girl underpants, or how proud he would be of her once she didn't need diapers anymore.  Every time I would hear him, I'd tell him, "Now is not a good time!"  I explained several times that I just have too much going on right now, that we just couldn't add potty training to the mix.  I can barely get everything done as it is.  Now is not a good time!

Saturday morning, Dave's comments to Anna must have sunk in.  Anna decided, for the first time ever, that she didn't want to wear diapers anymore; she was ready for underpants.  When she told me this, I sighed.  I knew it was going to be a lot of work, but I didn't think I could turn down her initiative.

So, Anna wore underpants, and Dave went to do some yard work.  I put Anna on the toilet.  She actually sat for 45 minutes while I read her books, juggled the babies, and tried to keep Kate entertained, but Anna had no success.  We decided she could try again in 10 minutes.  Five minutes later, I was cleaning up the floor.  I told her it was no big deal, and we put on another pair of underpants.  After another 20 minutes, I put her back on the toilet.  This time, I read her books while nursing Luke.  She actually had a success!  We celebrated, and I went to finish nursing on the rocking chair.  Anna came in to talk with me, and as I was telling her how exciting it was that she went potty in the toilet, she said, "Ohh!  I go potty again."  Seeing the urine dripping down her leg, I unlatched Luke, set him on the bed, and ran Anna into the bathroom.

The day proceeded like this for hours.  That afternoon, I went to the grocery store and ran a couple errands.  When I returned, less than an hour and a half later, the first thing I noticed was that Anna was wearing a diaper.  I looked at Dave who explained, "Now is not a good time."

What a great kid

I couldn't be happier with the progress Anna has made since the twins were born.  She's become much better at listening and following directions.  Her tantrums have decreased an incredible amount, to the point of being rare.  She's really a loving big sister and a great helper. 

I was so concerned with how her behavior would become more difficult after the babies came.  I'd thought best case scenerio was that it would stay the same.  I never expected this, and I'm so grateful and so proud of her.

Tuesday night I was sitting on our enormous bed with the babies, complaining to Dave about Ally's nursing.  After a while, I just blurted out in frustration, "I just can't even nurse her!"

All of the sudden I hear a little voice behind our bed say, "You can't nurse Ally?" 

I realize Anna is back there.  I can't see her, because she's shorter than the edge of the bed.  Then she says, "You need this to nurse?" and I see the Boppy come peeking up from behind the bed.  It goes back down a little, and then there's a little grunt and it goes up again.

Magic bus

Although I felt like a bad mother for doing it, last week I signed Kate up to ride the bus to and from school.  I was completely opposed to her riding the bus.  The lack of supervision scared me, the wasted time annoyed me, and it seemed a frivelous waste when we live only a few blocks away. 

However, what I had idealistically envisioned as a beautiful walk in the fresh air with my kids twice a day had become a virtual nightmare.  Inevitably, one of the baby screamed the majority of each trip.  Poor Anna was having to be torn from her nap and put into the stroller half asleep each afternoon.  I spent each morning and afternoon stressed, trying to strategically plan the right time to feed and change the babies around all the other things we had to do, so I'd be done in time, but the babies would still be full and dry enough to make the trip without too much hysterics.

When Kate started hinting how fun she thought the bus would be, I pushed aside my vision of the ideal mother, and I walked into the school office with all my kids, two of whom were crying, and asked, "Is it too late to sign up for the bus?  I'd planned on walking her here each day, but..."  They interupted, "You don't have to explain.  The picture in front of us is all the explanation we need."

Kate was beyond thrilled that she got to ride the bus.  She loves it, the babies and Anna are much happier with the arrangement, and I'm at slightly less risk of losing my mind each day.

Weird kids

It was another rough night. Since Dave doesn’t work until noon on Wednesdays, he let me nap this morning.


When I came down from the bedroom, I heard the girls playing. It didn’t sound like they were in the playroom. It sounded like they were in the… bathroom? As I approached, I heard the strangest interaction, so I stopped to listen for a moment. Here’s what I heard:

A – Don’t say “Esbano” anymore, Kate. I don’t like that.

K – (Her voice in character.) Espanol? That’s my name.

A - No, Kate. I don’t like that.

K – Espanol. That’s what my parents named me.

A – No, Kate. I don’t like that noise.

K - If you don’t want to call me “Espanol,” you can call me my Spanish name: Jonah. Jonah is Spanish for Espanol.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I looked in.  When I did, I asked, “What are you doing?”

Kate’s answer was to the point: “Pooping.”

Animals

Today, amidst the chaos that is lunch time with two crying babies, a hungry toddler, and a preschooler who needs to eat and get out the door for school in fifteen minutes, Kate and Anna were both talking to me, and I was attempting to, at the very least, feign interest. 

I heard Kate say, "Do zoos have animals?" 

I had no idea what she was talking about.  I thought I was following, but that seemed to come out of nowhere, so I said, "Yes...you know that..." 

Then she got to her point.  "Don't you know I used to say aminals?" 

"Ahhh," I said, catching on, "That's true, Kate, you sure did!" 

"But," she continued, "it's really animals, like my sister."

What?  I'd lost her again.  Then I understood and laughed. 

Anna-mals.

Clara Beth's breast

One of the most embarrassing things I've done in my life can still be summoned to my mind, and the minds of a few of my high school classmates, even 20 years later, with one name: Clara Beth.  That name is also a title, the title of a sort of "novelette" I had the misfortune of composing as an awkward 14 year old freshman.

Without going into all the details or all the ramifications, I'll just explain that I based the main character, not loosely, on myself.  That character, Clara Beth, was caught in a love triangle with two brothers, one who she loved recipricately and the other who loved her.  The brother she fell in love with was based (again, not loosely) on a senior on whom I had a pathetic crush.  He happened to be the brother of a male friend of mine.  That meant that, by default, the brother who loved her was based on my friend. Of course my friend's brother just happened to have initials that were the same as dear Clara Beth's: CB.

If that is all too complicated to follow, just be assured that it was definitely not too complicated for everyone I knew in high school to follow.  And, for the remaining three and a half years of high school, and occasionally afterwards, the name Clara Beth was met with raucous laughter by my classmates and utter humiliation by me.  However, the very worst of my humiliation occurred several times a day for the remaining semester of my freshman year when I went to my locker and ran into CB himself, who had the misfortune of having his assigned locker immediately besides mine. 

In the past 20 years, although I've remained good friends with his brother, I have only crossed paths with CB once, and then very briefly.  That is until Saturday, at my friend's wedding reception.  If you think 20 years is long enough to erase the embarrassment of such a creative endeavor, you are mistaken.  Although I can laugh about what "14 year old me" did, I was still not completely comfortable seeing CB.  I spent the week before the reception with a little of the nervousness of my 14 year old self creeping in at the thought.  I even told Dave about my anxiety.  He responded, "It's been 20 years!"  His implication, that I had nothing to feel awkward about after so long, was probably accurate.

When we arrived at the reception, which was being held at my friend's childhood home, Luke was hungry.  After I spoke with my friend and his lovely new wife for a while, I went inside the house to nurse Luke.  I walked into the living room and, low and behold, CB was right in there, setting up a movie for his niece.  Thankfully, 20 years has made me significantly less awkward.  I just smiled and said hi, and to my surprise, I didn't feel remotely nervous. 

Still, I wasn't thrilled about nursing in front of him even with a nice cover-up, so I talked to his niece for a moment as he finished with the DVD player.  After he left, I nursed Luke, while watching Peter Pan, and then I got Ally and came back in to nurse her.

Ally is still a horrible nurser.  To make matters worse, I was nursing her on my right side, the side on which I'm less coordinated.  I had to continually hunch over, and I had to use my right hand to hold my breast and my left hand to guide her mouth.  Although the cover was positioned pretty well, I felt that I looked kind of strange, and every time the back door opened, I hoped no one would come into the living room.  After a while, I considered just giving up and giving her the bottle.  As I was debating whether or not to do this, I heard someone say, "Kristal, I'm sorry! I didn't even realize that was you before.  How are you?"  I turn to see CB walking toward me. 

Upon reflection, I'm not entirely sure of every event of the next few seconds.  For reasons you'll soon understand, the moment has been played in my mind a multitude of times, but I can't completely sort it out.  I honestly don't know for sure if his hand was outstretched or if I just thought it seemed like a polite, non-awkward thing to do, but as he came forward I reached my right hand out to shake his hand saying, "Oh, I'm good.  How are you?"  No big deal.  Except, just as his hand was about to shake mine, he jerked his hand away and said, "OH!  You're busy!"  And, somewhere during this moment I realized that reaching my hand out had flipped my nursing cover off and Ally, the horrible nurser, had taken her head away as well, and... yes... my breast was just... out.

It's probably true I had no reason to feel awkward about seeing CB after 20 years.  Except now I did.

I'll let you stop cringing.

Anyway, it's lucky that it wasn't the 14 year old Kristal's breast that was exposed, but the 34 year old Kristal's.  Because, although I've certainly been cringing myself as I've written this, I've also been amused.  I'm not sure if it's what growing up means for everyone, but for me, growing up has been learning what's important and learning to keep things in perspective.  And part of perspective, I believe, is learning to laugh at yourself.

Project time

It's probably not surprising we haven't been doing as many projects lately, but I'm getting back into the swing of things. 

Anna has to be not only holding Jessie but also dressed in her hat in order to most anything.

Anna

She's always up to something!

The twins

This picture sums up their personalities perfectly.

Ally

I wonder what she's thinking.

Kate's latest feat

Kate never ceases to amaze me.  The latest reason started about a week ago.  Kate mentioned how she could probably change the babies' diapers.  I decided I could let her try, and when she wasn't watching, I could adjust the diaper, so Saturday I agreed to let her change Ally, since she was a girl and would be less likely to pee on her. 

The girls and I were sitting on my bed.  I put Ally in front of Kate and began to demonstrate on Luke what to do.  Kate followed along, doing everything perfectly, until...  Ally peed all over her.  I'm not talking a little bit of pee, either; it sprayed in a thick line, splashing all over Kate's shirt, pooling on her pants.  I couldn't help it; I laughed.  And I laughed hard, grabbing my phone to take pictures.  Kate was, rightfully, very angry.  I got a hold of myself, seeing how angry she was, and apologized.  As I stripped off all her urine soaked clothes, socks and underwear included.  I told her it was wrong of me to laugh, but I explained that I thought it was funny, because 1) Ally has peed on Daddy and me, 2) Kate herself peed on me as a baby, and 3) my favorite, the irony that I wouldn't let her change Luke because he might have peed on her.

She calmed down.  I finished changing both babies, and I didn't ask her about changing them again. 

Here are pictures from my phone of the fateful attempt:

Things were going well at first.

Look closely.  It's splashed all over her shirt, and her pants are soaked.

Here's the line leading to where Kate was sitting.

This morning, I was about to change Anna when Kate asked if Ally needed a change. I said she did. She said she wanted to do it. I was surprised, but I put a pad in front of Ally on the playroom floor, and let Kate give it a try while I changed Anna. Anna's diaper was a bad one, so I didn't pay much attention to Kate, aside from giving her the wipes and Vaseline when she asked for them. When I wasn't even quite done with Anna, Kate said, "I'm done." I looked over to see Ally in a diaper, a diaper that was perfectly put on. Amazing. No slight intended to anyone, but Kate put that diaper on better than either of the adults who have helped me with the kids during the last ten months. Then Kate said, "And look." She held up the soiled diaper, perfectly rolled and taped into a little package. I was flabbergasted. I said, "How did you know to do that?" She said, "I've watched you."

A while later, we were in the kitchen when Kate said, "I suppose I could change Luke's diaper, too, since it was actually Ally who peed on me."  I laughed and agreed with her.

As Kate was getting ready for school, she pondered her successful diaper change, "Do you think I can share what I did with my class... or will they think it's gross?"

Loving Luke

There may be two babies, but they still get more than their share of kisses.

Monarchs

I've had to continually dissuade Dave from cutting down these imposing plants all summer.  Today my persistance paid off when we learned they attract monarch butterflies.  The big plants will be staying.

Here are some pictures I took with the new lens Dave got me for my birthday.

Lukey love

One problem the babies never have is lack of big sister kisses.

...and I lost it.

I had another “moment” today. It’s definitely not one of my proudest, but it’s, nonetheless, one I want to relay, partially for the therapeutic value of doing so and partially because I know two of my readers who’ll find it quite entertaining.

I began the morning with two goals, one to get Kate two school on time and the other to get a cradle (side-to-side swinging) swing. The first goal stemmed from the fact that, despite being on time according to the letter we'd gotten, we actually got Kate to school late yesterday. (The letter said school started at 12:40, but neglected to explain drop off time is actually 12:30.)  So, I became very paranoid about Kate getting to be known as “the kid who comes late,” and was determined to get her there early today. The other goal started around 11pm yesterday when, after both babies had taken turns crying since 3:00, I learned that they both fall asleep nearly immediately when put in the cradle swing. I even tried for a moment to shove both babies in our one swing. When that didn’t work, I decided we had to obtain a second today.

There was actually a third goal, one which I’ve had every day since we came home from the hospital: to "hold it together." I had a very emotional time adjusting after Anna was born. I cried nearly every day for the first couple months. With the twins, I’ve had only one such moment. I guess I take some pride in that, and I make it through most days with the goal of just "holding it together."

By 9:45 this morning, after several phone calls to different resale shops, I’d located a cradle swing at one shop on the south side. It was a half hour drive away, and they’d only hold it for the morning, so I set to work getting the twins nursed and changed, the older girls dressed and their hair combed, and myself showered. As we got ready, I worked the timing through in my head several times, making sure we had plenty of time to get Kate to school.

We set off by 10:45, but pulled over by 11:00 to nurse Ally parked at the side of a road. That put us a little behind schedule, as did everything else we attempted the entire morning, not the least of which was the struggle to get the swing in the trunk beside the double stroller. I’d planned to treat the kids to a McDonald’s lunch, to make the morning seem a little more exciting and to save us a little time. Unfortunately, McDonald’s must not have gotten the memo that we were in a hurry, and it took over 10 minutes to get our food and a worker came over repeatedly the whole time we were there to poke at the babies in the stroller and chat with Kate and Anna who I was trying to get to eat quickly.

By the time we were on our way to school, we were a few minutes late. I drove there, my hands sweating, stressing about how we were going to be late again, kicking myself for letting it happen. I was trying to be calm and positive, but the stress was bubbling under the surface. As we tried to pull into the parking lot, there was a group of people in the way. I waited and everyone, except one older man, about 65, got out of the way. I took a deep breath and summoned more patience, but the man just stood there. I couldn’t edge around him, because he was directly in the middle of the drive. Kate, who’d been scanning the situation around the building asked, “Are we late?” Without thinking, I answered, “A little bit,” then tried to cover with, “but it’s no problem. We’re fine.” I felt like crying. I felt like not "holding it together." What was that man doing? I took another deep breath and edged forward just another inch or two, kind of like saying, “Excuse me.” He appeared to be looking at me, challenging me. I began to get frustrated, but I tried to have empathy. Maybe there’s something wrong with him, I thought. I looked at the clock. It had been nearly three whole minutes. Finally, the man moved a little, but not enough for me to get through, and signaled for me to roll down my window. When I did, he said, with a smirk, “Your turn signal is broken. You should get it fixed.” Then, still with the smirk, he turned to walk away. It took me a second to realize it. The man hadn’t moved, because I hadn’t remembered to signal I was turning into the drive. Then it happened. My mouth spoke the words, “You are an ass.” And I drove in.

The twins

Nice draw

When Kate showed Anna this picture, Anna so sweetly complimented her by telling her, "Nice draw, Kate."

Kate's first day of school

Kate had her first day of school today.  She was so excited!  Dave and I were struck by the significance of the big day, her first day of school ever!  Despite being completely exhausted and overwhelmed, we tried to make the occasion memorable.  I made her a special cake yesterday, I let her choose her favorite meal for her first day, and we had a special movie night to watch Toy Story.  Kate was adorable.  She kept saying, "You don't have to do all this, just for my first day of school!"

Today, after she got home, she wanted to blog about her first day. I sat at the computer with her, bouncing Luke on my lap to keep him from screaming, and trying to humor Anna but not let her smush Luke with her hugs, while Kate relayed to me what she wanted to write about her first day.

Here's a link to her thoughts on the day:

Kate's blog: My first day of school

Great big sisters

There are moments when I just have to take a quick break from meeting everyone else’s needs and meet my own. Today I had one of those times. We’d just returned from taking Kate to school. I was hot from carrying Ally in the sling and incredibly thirsty. I set both babies in their car seats in the living room, amidst piles of laundry, and, despite the fact that they both started to cry and it was time to put Anna down for her nap, I went into the kitchen and got myself a drink of water. I heard all the crying, but I let myself take 30 seconds to drink the water and catch my breath, planning how I’d console both babies and get Anna down for her nap once I finished my glass of water.

When I returned to the living room, I found the sweetest sight. Anna was gently rocking Ally’s car seat, saying, “It’s okay, Awy.” Luke started fussing just as Anna noticed I was there. She said, “Mama, Awy’s crying,” and she left me to take Ally, while she went over and began rocking Luke.

When Kate got home from school, I got the girls a snack and talked to them a while.  When the babies wouldn't be consoled any other way, I went in the living room to nurse them.  From the other room, I heard Kate reading a book to Anna.  Every time she'd finish the book, Anna would ask her to read it again.  After the fourth or fifth time, Kate would sigh after Anna's request, but, regardless, she'd read it again.