Still good to know I have more to learn about him...

You are driving down the highway, peacefully anticipating the outing ahead.  When suddenly:

"Oh...no..."

Those two simple sounds...yet, when uttered in that tone, suddenly you are filled with dread.

"What?"  You ask, hoping for yet fearing the answer.

He sits in silence, overwhelmed by the shock and terror of his thoughts.  Your mind races.  What could this possibly be?  Is it your imagination, or does his face seem to grow more pensive, more petrified, more horrified...He's mentioned some stress at work, a possible health problem...could there be more he's been too afraid to share?

You try to await his answer, but it is so long in coming.  "What?!?"  You ask again, imploring his answer.

Yet he sits silent, driving the car, alone with his trepidation...

"Mommy?"  A voice calls from the back seat.  "Why does this book have a funny mark here?"

It's the back seat?  How can you possibly see in the back seat?  More importantly, what does this have to do with the situation developing in the front seat?  "Honey, I don't know.  Let's check it out when we get there."

"Crap."  It's the first syllable he's uttered since beginning this stressful odyssey.  Perhaps he's finally ready share?  Does he seem slightly less catatonic?  

"But it's just right there, Mommy.  Haven't you read this book before?"

Yes, and I've memorized every mark on every page throughout.  Wait until you see the one on page 17...it's a doozy!  "No, honey."  You reply, frayed nerves jangling, "I mean, yes, I've read the book, but I don't know-"

"Mama!  Mama!"  Another child interjects, "Look!  What was that?"  She gestures to the entire world whizzing past her window, confident you know EXACTLY to which "that" she refers.  You want to respond, but your husband sighs, rubs his lip, and looks distraught, shifting slightly in his seat.

"I DON'T KNOW," you shriek hysterically.  "CAN'T YOU SEE I'M TRYING TO TALK TO YOUR FATHER?!?"

Silent, chastened, your children retreat to their seats.  Anxiously you return to your husband.  "WHAT?!?  WHAT?!?  WHY DID YOU SAY UH-OH?!?"

"Huh?"  He says absently, turning to look at you.  "What do you mean?"

Now he's giving you that slightly alarmed "Is-she-losing-it" look.  Taking a deep breath, and fighting for calm, you say, "Earlier you said, 'oh....no' with great concern.  What is going on?!???"

"Oh," he says, "That.  Nothing.  Just thinking about whether or not I put my new pants in the laundry.  I think I forgot to do that."

You blank...what the?  Seriously?!?  "Oh, well, the way you said, 'oh...no..." I thought..."

"Oh, that's not my serious tone," he replies.  "Don't worry...you'll know when it's serious."

Merry Christmas 2012

Merry Christmas one and all!  Just a quick blog today.  I got a netbook for Christmas!  Hooray!!  I also got an Ipod touch - I'm a lucky woman.  My favorite gift, I must admit, though, is the plush red angry bird that shrieks in victory when you push the button.  WHOOHOO-HOO!  I am a lucky woman.

This was a big Christmas for the girls.  If you asked the kids what they wanted from Santa, they would reply as follows:

A: I want marshmallows, candy canes, cookies, and a piano.
B: I want marshmallows, candy canes, cookies, and a xylophone
C: I want more furniture for my doll house, Barbie Dolls, Angry Birds for my DSi...and a guitar.
A: Oh, and a drum
B: Yeah, a drum

See a pattern?  It's a musical Christmas this year!  The problem with kid's musical instruments is that they are rarely in tune/tunable.  I don't have perfect pitch by any means, but I'm pretty good at knowing what is in tune (and vice versa).  It can be physically painful to hear that sour note(s).  On the other hand, the problem with real musical instruments is size, cost, maintenance and care...

Well, that solves that one.

So Christmas day dawns, and Santa proves that (s)he is, once again, the (wo)man.  As per tradition, it starts with Santa leaving a path of candy canes down the hall and to the family room, where the unwrapped Santa toys await.  The girls get into the doorway of the family room, and Twin A stops dead in her tracks.  There it sits.  A shiny black child's piano, complete with stool and music stand.  The other girls come barreling in, but she's stock-still in shock.  It lasts all of 30 seconds, but definitely long enough to let us know that Santa did a good job.  Finally she says, "A piano...look...a piano..."  It seems like underwhelm, but the complete withdraw lets us know the exact opposite.  She can barely take it in.  The crowning glory is the small bag of marshmallows and cookies on top...with a candy cane peeking out...

Twin B, meanwhile, zeros right in on that xylophone.  It's just one of those little kid ones, but she's in heaven...for about 15 seconds, and then she zooms over to the dollhouse.  The dollhouse was not an anticipated gift.  Our chiropractor's daughter was giving it away, and he offered it to us for free, because he's that kind of wonderful, sweet, generous person.  It came complete with some pre-mussed Barbie dolls and a few pieces of furniture.  It has a small chip on the top, but the girls haven't even seen that yet.  And check out that couch!  Perfect place to stash a bag of marshmallows, cookies, and...

C has the smallest of the piles.  She actually went straight past it to the dollhouse.  When she found out it wasn't for her, she was disappointed.  She has one at Gama's house,  though, and she was assured her sisters would give her a chance to check it out.  She turns dejectedly to her pile...and shrieks with joy over the mini-guitar sitting on her pile.  WHOOHOO!  Then she takes a good look, and realizes it's a Barbie and Dollhouse furniture kind of Christmas!  Life is good!  A minivan for the dollhouse AND a car for Barbie?  WHOA!

It took almost two hours for the girls to see anything outside of the piano, xylophone, guitar, and percussive instruments (the guitar was part of a set that came with a bongo drum, tambourine, wood block/zither, egg-shaped maracas, and finger cymbals).  It was a...er...musical...I guess...Christmas?  They are banging away, shouting, "I'm playing MUSIC!"  All I could think is, "If you become punk musicians I may have to disown you..."  The DVDs, Pigeon Books, dress up clothes, etc. are NOTHING compared to these wonderful gifts.  The piano and guitar especially.  Mommy knitted cool sparkly ruffle scarves.  Whatever!  Do they sing?  Make music?  Drive mommy incredibly insane?  Then what good is some dumb fashionable scarf?

It has been proven that men are far better than women at selective hearing and ignoring certain sound ranges...I am desperate to learn this trick...but very happy at how happy the girls are with their gifts.  Now to figure out where the heck to put all of this stuff!  We need a new house just for the toys!!

Daddy?  Oh, he got a blue-ray player, windows 8, gift cards, boxers...and I framed some of his old photos.  He's hard at work putting together Barbie sets and cussing at small plastic tabs that refuse to slide into slot A...

Merry Christmas!

All hail Synovia!

So some of you may be aware that one of my 3 yo twins was diagnosed with a mild case of Toxic Synovitis.  It's not that serious, especially if we convince her to sit and rest (HAHAHAHAHAHA!).  It's located in her left knee, so she can't walk on it.  We give her Motrin and let her watch all the TV she wants, which means she would rather do ANYTHING that watch TV (or color or read or sing songs or play board games...)  As I've typed this paragraph (and I type pretty fast) she's already tried to walk four times.

We were just diagnosed yesterday afternoon, and already we are a bit stir crazy and challenged.  This is our favorite time of year!  We want to be outside, picking apples, going to Halloween parties, playing and enjoying activities (note the word active there).  It's really hard for Twin B because as of right now she has no symptoms, and she might not get sick, but I need to keep her on the calm side so her twin isn't encouraged to run around.  So I thought, "Hey, let's take the stroller and go to the shopping center to run some errands!"  Perfect, right?  They are contained but getting to see something other than our four walls, and maybe I can have minor human interactions.  Whoohoo!

....Seriously?  What was I thinking?...

The problem wasn't the girls.  I mean, they didn't like being contained, but they were fairly willing to go along if it meant they were out of the house.  No, it was explaining WHY my girls were in a stroller.  See, we picked the day to go to the shopping center that was having a Halloween festival.  And somehow, despite my best efforts, I ended up having to constantly explain WHY they were in a stroller.

"She has WHAT?"  Toxic Synovitis
"What is that?"  It's a virus that travels to a joint.  In this case it's her knee.  
"A virus?  In her knee?  Seriously?  I didn't know that could happen!"  Hmmm...join the club
 "Does it sneeze?  Do you have to blow it?"  Oh ha ha!  That was funny the first 15 times I heard it...want to ask me if they are twins?  
"She can't walk?  Why can she move the knee?"  Apparently it depends on where it attacks the joint as to how much it affects a person.  In her case she can't bear weight on her lower leg or foot, but crawling or this weird butt scoot she's got going on (that is going to destroy all her pants) doesn't affect her.  
"Let's see her try to walk."  Oh, sure, because I'm sure you've got far more experience diagnosing and treating T.S. than the doctor who sees several cases a year...

And my personal favorite: "Was it named after her?"

Really?  You think this condition is named after my kid?  I mean, not that it's not possible.  But let's be real - people look at me and think, "¿Que Paso?"  They look at my kid, and think she's named after something that sounds like a minor Mid-European principality halfway between Bavaria and the French Riviera?  Why yes, this is my daughter Synovia.  And her twin Genovia.  They are famous for pears...

And there was the last hurdle I encountered that made me want to crack some skulls: Candy.  I have to tell you, if you have to catch T.S., avoid doing so on Halloween...or Christmas, Valentines day, Easter...see a pattern?  In addition to rest and Motrin, the other part of the protocol is to avoid dairy and...*ding ding ding!*  SUGAR!!

"Aww, poor girl.  Does she want some candy?"  That's so sweet of you, but she really needs to avoid sugar right now.
"But it's HALLOWEEN!"  What the...are you serious?  Like in a couple of days?  Like with costumes and everything?  Is THAT why there's candy for sale everywhere?  OOOOH!  That explains all the orange and black, doesn't it?!?!?

No s*%$, people, but trust me...if I take care of her, she'll be around for many MORE Halloweens.  And as much as I hate to do it, no kid dies from a dietary reduction of refined white sugar.  In fact, it may ultimately behoove her diet to do so.  Hmmm, might help yours, too...

So we're going to spend the rest of the day and tomorrow at the house.  If she continues to have problems walking by Monday I take her to the doctor.  Hopefully her twin doesn't manifest signs of the illness in the next 24 hours.  Provided I can keep her from walking the virus shouldn't spread and we should get better.

Twin A specializes in taking her illnesses to the next level, doesn't she?

Mother Goose gets an update

Once there was a young woman who lived in a binder
(She was in the 47% so Romney couldn't find her)
As a teacher she struggled to align with common core
She revised her lessons 'til exhausted and sore
Regarding politicians, she had nary a doubt!
"To fix this whole mess, throw them all out!"
The moral of the story, to make matters worse,
When you give Congress the chance, they'll vote themselves the purse!

World's Meanest Mom...again...

Cruel mother that I am, I required that the twins sit on the potty before we left to pick up big sister from the bus.  I figured they could sit for 15 minutes and...who knows?  Twin B is starting to show success, although Twin A is hit-or-miss.  I suggested that to pass the time they could sing together.  Twin B was quite amenable to the entire situation, but Twin A wasn't having it.  She'll be DAMNED if she does ANYTHING without a fight.  I mean ANYTHING.  We are so incredibly, painfully, awfully 3...

Twin B gets to work immediately and begins to sing the Alphabet song.  Twin A?  She stomps her feet.  She protests, moaning and grunting about the injustice of it all.  She goes boneless.  I offer her the choice of sitting on her potty or a spanking.  She relents slightly, going to her potty, although she lets me know in NO uncertain terms that the Geneva Convention would NOT consider this appropriate...

Twin B is now singing "Itsy Bitsy Spider."  Twin A is bending over to examine the floor as though it is suddenly of incredibly interest.  I tell Twin A to sit up and sing.  She sits up slightly, whines, and flops over on her side.  Again, I tell her to sit up and sing.  Frankly, I don't care if she sings.  However, when their minds are on something other than urinating I find they actually complete the deed.  I also find a higher success rate when they are sitting upright...as well as a lower potential for needing to clean the floor and surrounding areas...

Twin A isn't having it.  She is enduring this torture, but she's not about to go without a fight.  I'm really losing my temper.  All three of my kids are in this phase where nothing can go unchallenged.  Apparently they don't agree with Socrates - re-examination of your life every 7 years (or 5, or whatever) just isn't soon enough.  It should be every 3 months! I am doing my best to be patient, but we're in what my mom calls the "Chopped-Liver" phase.  Every day all I hear is, "Where's Daddy? (or Gama or Gapa or Uncle Tim or Aunt Glynda or ANYONE BUT YOU, MOM!!!)"  Logically, I get it.  Emotionally, I've had it.  Just once it would be nice to be appreciated.  And big sister is HARD CORE into this helpless, ditzy phase.  "Oh?  We keep it there?  In the same place it has been since I was born?  And I just used it 20 minutes ago?  But how was I supposed to know where it is?  And can you get it for me?  'Cause I'm just SO HELPLESS..."  *bat bat*

OK, so enough of a pity party.  Twin B has moved on to "Swinging on a Star."  I am folding clothing as this is going on, and I've decided that Twin A WILL SING EVEN IF IT KILLS HER!!!  So I reach out with the t-shirt in my hand and wave it at her head, intending to brush her pony tail, and say, "START SINGING RIGHT NOW!!"  Only...I miss.  I brush her ear.  And perhaps "brush" is a bit kind of a term.  "Swack" might have a slightly truer ring.  Don't call DFACS!  It was an accident.  They'll take her away...oh...wait...

Twin A is SHOCKED!  She grabs her ear and sits up straight, sucking in air.  She wails for a second.  And then she starts belting out "Swinging on a Star" as though there is no tomorrow.  I mean, SCREAMING this song.  "A PIG IS AN ANIMAL WITH DIRT ON HIS FACE...*deeeeeeeeep breath*....HIS SHOES ARE A TERRIBLE DISGRACE!"  She yells it so loudly that Twin B falls off her potty in shock.  I can't help it.  I bury my face in the t-shirt and laugh so hard I'm crying.  Where is my video recorder when I need it?!?  Twin B gingerly returns to her potty and resumes singing, although at a much softer level than her sister...who is trying to be heard in New York, apparently.

Oh I am so MEAN!  ;-)

FYI:  Yes, they both peed in their potties before time was up.  Wouldn't you?

I'm a WHAT?!?

Today's conversation with the twins: 
B: Mommy is a cow!
Mom: WHAT? Excuse me!
A: A cow! Mommy is a cow! And Gama! Gama is a cow, too.
B: And Gapa is a donkey!
A: Uncle Tim is a pig! 
B: Daddy is a...a...a CHICKEN!!!
(Hysterical laughter)
Mom: What are A & B? 
(Silence)
B: We just kids...but big sister is a dog!!!

I swear...the only people who could call me a cow and still be walking...

Reason #72 we love Gama

Once a week my mother, the twin, and I go to a chiropractor.  This guy awesome - he has been treating my mom and I for years, and he has treated the twins since they were 6 months (C since 18 months).  Afterwards, we typically either go out for lunch or go to Gama's house.  Today we went to BK, because nothing says "fine cuisine" like a plastic indoor playground.  

Three is one of those ages that leaves you laughing in hysterics one minute and shrieking with anger the next.  The twins are ALL over the map.  And of course, we're working on important skills, like sharing, anger management, arguing with Mommy is extraordinarily bad for your health, and potty training (yes, we're behind - make a snide comment, and guess who's gonna come to my house and take over their training?).  

So after lunch the girls are up in their gerbil tubes, and mom whispers to me, "I feel like a little something sweet.  Want to share some ice cream?"  Well, heck, there isn't much you could smother in hot fudge that I would refuse...ok, well, that sort of came out wrong, but...I mean...

Moving on.

She quietly leaves the room and goes in line.  About 20 second later, two little voices pipe up, "Where is Gama?  Is Gama in line?  Is she getting ice cream.  She's getting ice cream, isn't she?  She's getting US ice cream."  Now, yes, probably some sharing would go on between the four of us, but at the same time...two sugar-crazed preschoolers?  Yikes!  So I say, "Yes, she is."  (What, like I'm gonna deny it and they're gonna believe it?  They are their mother's children.  More like their Gapa's kids.  They can SMELL fudge and ice cream from two miles away).  "BUT," I continue, "It's for GAMA, not for you."

There is silence, and then you can almost FEEL the craftiness pervade the area.  Gama deny her two darling little granddaughters?  Oh please.  In their world, that isn't even a possibility.  But somehow Mommy has to be convinced.  I hear scrabbling as they crawl down the slide.  They shoot each other that "you can read my mind 'cause you're my twin" look, and then Twin A sidles up to me.  Laying her head on my arm adoringly, she says, "But Gama LOVES to share with us.  And sharing is 'portant, right, Mommy?"

Hoist on my own petard...