We stayed home. It was a calm day, relatively speaking. We woke up at 8 am and stumbled dumbly down to open stockings with the boys. Ron got a lump of chocolate in his stocking. Then we ate breakfast. Then we opened presents. Thrice the boys tired of opening packages because they just wanted to try their new stuff. I had to keep reminding them that there were more presents. (Which I realized is a dumb problem, why so many presents then?)
I also bought pre-cooked ham and side dishes so that I wouldn’t have to cook. Which also turned out to be dumb since my kids hate home-cookin’ type foods like meat and potatoes. But at least I had plenty of left-overs for when guests showed up. We had plenty of cookies, thanks to the wonderful ladies at the cookie exchange in my twins group.
Every year is a learning experience. I guess the ultimate kids’ Christmas would be one present with 500 pieces, one board game, and tons of finger foods like carrots and olives. (That’s right, they chow down on the ante-pesto platter.) That and the family that plays Wii together, stays together.
We did celebrate Thanksgiving, like most Americans. I even did the lionshare of the cooking, but did not have to host the event. We brought a ham, the sweet potatoes, a cranberry jello salad, green beans almondine and a guy to make the gravy. (thanks, grandpa) The kids were all dressed better than they had any right to be. I think there are pictures floating around on someone’s digital camera. I will try to get them posted later.
We ate well and played a couple of games with the older kids, but the evening really got going when Uncle Michael turned on the dance music in the basement. The older generation was running on Baileys and coffee; the younger generation didn’t need any help.
Today, the local businesses opened their doors to all the costumed children and their money spending parents to practice up for Halloween. We dudded up the wee ones and took a stroll. Aunt Sarah was there to snap pics and help a police officer cross the street. I do it for the feedback; I can admit that. I usually make the kids costumes so this year was a bit humiliating (joking) in all store bought gear (with major exceptions on the little police guy).
I ran into a few friends, including one girlfriend who also has twins. We attend a twins mom support group. Her little girls were wearing matching blue princess dresses. They were so cute It was all I could do to restrain myself from saying, “Sell me those dresses after this Halloween.” The moms can get a bit frenzied buying hand-me-downs from each other. Especially as I have noticed a glut in twin girls my daughters’ size and a derth of twin girls in the size just above. You do the math, the resell value is, sheesh, let’s just say it’s a seller’s market right now at the Mother with Multiples Fun Club.
B and C’s best reaction was as we were finishing up our walk, a mother with her own children started yelling and jumping, “Oh, the twins! The twins! Look at the twin pumpkins!” Her friend told her that she was loud. We talked with them for a minute. And here I thought that pumpkin costumes were a cop-out. Well, Sandi, I owe you one.
I now know that every mom secretly hopes that her daughter will grow up and marry Winnie the Pooh. H was “Bad Winnie the Pooh” complete with mask and sword; sort of a Zorro of the 100 Acre Sherwood Forest. Every five feet some mom would direct her 4 year old daughter to H and say, “Honey, look, it’s Winnie the Pooh. Do you see Winnie the Pooh?” And without fail, every little girl would smile sweetly at H and look rapturous. It must be this sweet and docile affection that inspires mothers to this ambition, of having a the-Pooh for a son-in-law.
E was a police officer. He took it very seriously, but is incapable of intensity. He would make an admirable law enforcement officer, since he has no ego whatsoever about being tough, being right, or being in charge. He merely feels an obligation to serve. If our city were hiring kindergarten cops, like they apparently are doing now in CA, then he would be the most level headed guy with a badge in the US of A. He said “trick-or-treat” at every store as well as “thank you.”
D is ninja. This son of mine, now entering the highest-entertainment-value segment of his childhood, carried two shiny swords (which impressed not a few teenagers). He has his own ideas, which he executes and whoa betide the mother who steps in to undo his initiative, for she shall miss the show. D decided that in lieu of a mask, he would be hooded. D decided that carrying a goody bag was a dumb idea since Dad was pushing a stroller that had handles. So stroller carries the candy while D slinks in and out of cafes, bookshops and pizza places. I couldn’t restrain myself from narrating when shopkeeper after shopkeeper asked him, “Don’t you have a candy bag?” I had to say, “He’s a ninja,” or “Ninjas don’t carry candy bags,” or “He does have a candy bag, only you can’t see it.” My son was not trick or treating. He was on a mission to receive two candies in his hand and dodge out into the street without being detected.
Dad had a silly hat with a propeller on it.
I was a happy mom.
We are proud to announce that B and C are celebrating their 1st birthday. Here they are in their traditional North American garb. Hurray!
So, everyone is required to get that social worker back over to the house to see how well the babies are doing at 3 months, 6 months and then annually after the babies come home. Ethiopia would like to see photos. Which, for us, means leaving the dishes sudsy in the sink, dressing every child in ridiculous finery, and wrestling everyone into a relaxed, friendly pose. Look how cute my five children look sitting under the trees, “enjoying” the fine day, and oh my! do they just happen to be wearing cute, harmonious outfits!? What sibling bliss! What halcyon frivolity!
Here we see two cutes wearing taffeta party dresses. They must do so in pictures for they haven’t been invited to any formal parties lately and are growing quickly. “We are cute,” they cry, but who will answer. “We will turn one, soon,” they say, but no one sends them an invitation to the ball. “We shall soon wear a size 18 months,” they murmur, but the mailbox stands empty.
Ah yes, the ever popular “casual-at-home” picture, where everyone is carefully dressed in tertiary colors with a neutral complimentary on the special new arrivals. We are the Hoppers, and we are awesome!
Every day is a great day for screaming and playing, screaming and crawling, screaming and cuddling and screaming. The girls express their feelings, all of them, with yelling. Why do I feel like there is a scientific study out there that I should have read about baby screaming. That said, the girls are hitting their milestones with aplomb. B crawls and pulls herself up to standing, but can’t necessarily get back down. Today, she climbed onto her booster seat which was on the living room floor. After awhile, when she wanted to get back down and I wouldn’t help her, she lowered her butt slowly and carefully into the midair in front of the chair and dropped herself. She landed like a fine rubber baby, and started blubbering. I said, “come over here and get a hug, little one.” So she started crawling over to me, laughing like a silly rabbit. Big faker.
C is perfecting the wounded soldier crawl. She favors her right arm and shoulder at all times. Meaning, when it is time to crawl, she scrapes along the carpet on her left elbow like a wounded soldier. If her destination is a far distance, she will try to angle herself perpendicular to her target and then roll all the way there. The only problem with that is that she doesn’t recalibrate once the launch sequence has been initiated and sometimes winds up far from where she intended to go. I think her big belly knocks her off course.
B has turned full-bore needy. Gotta have daddy, gotta be picked up, gotta be carried, gotta get attention, gotta hear somebody say “good girl.” C is still a little bit stuck in her own world if you let her. We get her out and make her laugh though. C is a terrific little giggler. But we have to watch it or she goes over the edge and gets hysterical, and yes, then the screaming with all its joy and anger.
Well, we will need prayer and courage this week. The mysterious skin condition has finally surged to the fore, not to be silenced without another fight. B has a slew of tiny bumps on her belly which coincide nicely with the colder weather/ warmer clothing combo. A remnant of the fungal infection she brought home from Ethiopia, no doubt. So into the fray we go again, bathtimes, ointments, laundry and isolation.
At least they’re cute.
Fidelle
So much exciting is happening with the girls, it’s just that it’s buried underneath homeschool schedules, migraine headaches, overworked parents and visiting relatives. But here is a quiet moment in which I shall not clean my house for the company that is to arrive shortly, instead, tell you funny things.
B can crawl. Speedy little thing, too. C is content to watch her, but not ready to make a fool of herself. Both girls are capable of eating a meal without screaming; not that they exercise those powers all the time. They like to pull down the curtains in their bedroom. We are not sure who is to blame… C learned how to wave bye-bye, so B immediately learned it, too. B waves on command. C only does it when nobody is looking (just for mommy). Both girls are falling in love with mommy and daddy very well; more smiles and cuddles than ever.
We are ready to baby-proof a playroom for them. Both girls love to eat videos and power cords. They can also eat Cheerios, but mostly 50 at a time. They love their bath time. C laughs out loud when she sees some one get splashed with water. We got that on video. B loves to swim all by herself after C gets out of the tub. I fill up the water a little bit and hold her head as she kicks her feet wildly and splashes her hands and smiles like a crazy lady. She also likes to listen to herself talk while her ears are under water, floating on her back.
They eat well; peas, butternut squash, green beans, sweet potatoes, carrots, peaches, pears, applesauce, bananas, and mixed grain cereals, and, of course, Cheerios. Somehow they became vegetarian along the way. They both weigh 20 lbs, so they are thriving.
They adore their rigid schedule of naps and meals and bottles and bath. Whoa betide the parent who messes with the normalcy of a day. We went to a wedding a few weeks ago for almost the whole day. The girls behaved as good as gold, but mom, dad and our friend worked hard the entire time keeping them happy. (I missed the ceremony entirely, but I think they did actually tie the knot.)
Ron and I now think that perhaps we have to work harder in order not to have to work so hard. So, we spend every evening doing major projects of organizing and catch up housework, and even the odd reconstruction job, thank you water damage.
And remember folks, having twins is not like having two babies, it’s like having one baby 48 hours a day. They are so cute, we just want to gobble them up. In fact, I do eat a lot more chocolate since they are always making me think about it. mmmm, chocolate. I just baked a chocolate zucchini cake today. It was not perfect. I need the ultimate recipe of chocolatey power.
I’ve finally got around to adding some pictures from our trip. If you flip back to previous posts while we were in Africa, you can see a few pictures (click on them to enlarge).
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