full-minivan

Today is a great day for America!!!!

2008-11-05T17:11:00.010-05:00

Thank GOD Obama won!!!!! Here is us yesterday, on an election day of the likes we will probably never again see in our lifetime. Yes, we live in a blue state and our state was going to go for Obama without us, but we wouldn't have missed this historical election for the world. Here is us on Nov. 4, 2008. I'm still soaking it all up... we actually won!!!!

Also, thank God CT voted NO to a Constitutional Convention. There is no way the anti-gay biggots are going to get around the monumental Connecticut Supreme Court ruling making us the third state to allow gay marriage. Let the wedding bells start ringing for our gay friends here in CT:-)

Frivolous Fall Facts about Four Funky Kids.

2008-10-17T19:14:00.003-05:00

Mikailey - Fifth grade is not a great year for an 8 year old girl. The older girls are getting hormones - Mikailey obviously is not. The bus stop and recess are not fun for her this year. Clothing is a big issue. She feels pressured to conform to the "dress code" but has maintaned her sense of self and still wears her "Hug a Tree," "The bright side is GREEN," and the more light hearted "Conserve water, drink chocolate milk" t-shirts, which are decidedly un-cool in 5th grade. She has developed a passion for green energy and thinks she might want to pursue a career in green technology ever since becoming passionate about politics and the Obama campaign. (She also wants to work for a government agency such as the NSA, or CIA or become a politician, become an artist, musician, forensic scientist, and spa owner. I'm sure she can do anything she wants, but not sure she can do *everything* all at once). She recently discovered the other 5th graders aren't especially interested in politics and was upset. She also read both the "Time Kids" issues on Obama and McCain, and decided to rip up the McCain one once she was done with it:-) I thought this was pretty funny. She watched every minute of the Presidential and Vice Presidential debates, which we recorded for her because we wouldn't let her stay up that late on school nights. She began playing the clarinet with the 5th grade band. So far she's terrible, and we live in a small home so it is loud. I hope she gets better because she likes it! She wants to take art lessons but we can't currently afford them. She is actively searching the internet to decide on which magnet schools she wants to apply to next year.

Jordan - He began yet another school program this year. He's not thrilled but it's OK. We don't know what to do with him now and don't know what to do for him next year. That never seems to change! Because he didn't attend 5th grade, he was not able to begin playing an instrument with the school band and so could not take band classes at any other school without prior school experience or private teaching, which we could not afford. This has always disappointed him. When Mikailey got the clarinet, he decided to spend $80 and buy himself and Ocarina. "What is an Ocarina ?"you may ask if you are as musically ignorant as me, which you probably aren't. It turns out that it is one of the oldest instruments in existence, and was very popular in China 14,000 years ago. It is a clay whistle type instrument that plays sounds that he described as "so zen" before he even knew the history of the instrument. He chose a 12 hole tenor Ocarina, which is more difficult than the ones with fewer holes, but not for beginners like the ones with fewer holes. Upon doing research, I found that one can become a famous Ocarina player in an orchestra. I am clueless about music, but I have never seen an Ocarnia section in an orchestra. What's better, it is the instrument used to play the music in the video game "The Legend Of Zelda." He never learned how to properly read music etc. but has decided to teach himself and is finding himself online lessons. He is learning to play both Zelda songs and more ancient and traditionally Chinese songs and he's doing pretty well with teaching himself. Here is a YouTube video of kid playing part of the Zelda "Song of Time" on the same type of Ocarinia Jord has http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nad5AJaIcBI What I find even more odd than his sudden interest in Ocarina playing, is that one can make an Ocarina out of a carrot. Yes, a carrot. Clay works better but apparently you can play a carrot for a day or so. I assume the carrot rots eventually? There is a whole group of people really in to this instrument I've never heard of and I have no idea where Jordan found out about it. But it's cool. For whatever reason, listening to the Ocarina is less annoying than listening to the clarinet, both now being played constantly by beginners in our home. The Ocarina is very "zen" as Jordan said, and somehow soothing even if it isn't played exactly right. The clarinet is much louder and can make some pretty ear piercing sounds. And Jordan is still wearing distintly Jordan clothing to school like Mikailey- tie-dyes, shirts with silly sayings, etc. I think he's the only kid around with a t-shirt with a math forumla for the circumference of a circle and slices of pie on it, lol. I can't type the characters for in here but it says, "2 Pi r better than 1" with a picure of two slices of pie. Again, this is not cool in 8th grade where name brands rule the world. He's also studying a college cryptography text book he found at a tag sale for 50 cents, and according to his mentor is not out-dated so that's cool. He was in a summer program that allowed him to earn money toward Friday tag sale shopping and he brought home the oddest things. The $80 cryptography text book, which was signed by the author, for only 50 cents was his favorite "find" though. These two kids definitely don't fit any mold, but I prefer it that way.

Abby - Abby has made wonderful progress and is talking up a storm. However, she displays none of her troubling behavior at school. She saves all of the self-stimulating, mushing food, head banging, and spinning for home after each long day of keeping it together at school. She's starting to use the potty, but not consistently. However, each pee in the potty is a little savings in our pocket so I am thrilled:-) I think the Montessori School she is attending with Noah and a friend's child is the perfect choice for her. The calmness of it all seems to bring out the best in her. Shopping, and now dressing her for school is impossible because she is a bit round for her height. She won't wear jeans or anything scratchy, and all of her pants are too long in order to fit around her belly. Girl clothes all seem to be small cut and "slutty" even for toddlers, and t-shirts for girls found at normal stores have sayings I find obnoxious such as "Where is my tiara?," "Princess in training" and other stupid things that are all superficial. Boys clothes are definitely easier to shop for. Socks are a constant battle, but at least she's not stripping naked at school. At home I believe she would win a contest for the fastest stripping three year old. Nakedness and not being potty trained don't mix well - just a tid bit of information. The most important update on the Abbster, Crabby Abby, or Abby Dabby Doo (depending on her mood) is that it is amazing to watch my baby come out of her own world and enter ours. I can't explain what it is like to hear my daughter finally communicate with me, to finally hear what is going on inside her little head. I've always known her because she is my baby, but I am getting to know all the parts she couldn't communicate before, so in many ways I am being re-introduced to my own child. Now that she can often ( but definitely not close to always) say why she is or was screaming or freaking out, or just give me a clue, I'm getting to understand her much better. When a child on the autistic spectrum freaks out and you can't find a pattern or trigger, it's all guessing. Just a little more information, and I feel like I can meet her needs so much better now. She along with Noah picked out twin monkey costumes for Halloween.

Noah - Noah is also enjoying pre-school very much and thriving in the environment. I also think that having them seperated for the first time is great for both twins, but especially for Noah because Abby's special needs have always seemed to overshadow him in environments where they are placed together. He's coming in to his own little personality. He loves the "responsibility" of washing windows, polishing tables, folding napkins and helping to care for the class pets. He doesn't know he's learning. To him it's all play. But today when he refused to nap, I listened to him singing and counting to 100 and then sing his abc's, that apple starts with A, etc. He was really just trying to wake Abby up, who DID take her nap, and was singing for her. He's asking me what letter every word starts with and is starting to sight read simple words. I hope it's just the school and he's not gifted, or at least not gifted enough to cause any issues. His medical condition is still un-diagnosed, he still can't potty train because of it, and he's still a tiny peanut. I am anxiously awaiting answers from the specialists at the Children's Hospital. Finally, like all of my kids, this little monkey is also quite quirky. At home he jumps on the trampoline like a maniac, he climbs over everything, he balances on things etc. If I go to the bathroom, he can easily climb up on the counter despite being as short as an average 17 month old, and then get in to the top cabinets. He climbs up his dressor, which is of course anchored to the wall. He's actually quite coordinated, and high energy, so he reminds me of Mikailey in many ways. (Jordan and Abby are not coordinated at all!). However, he seems to hate any movement that is beyond his control. I didn't make the connection at first because he's such a monkey/daredevil. But when we tried to take him swimming this summer he freaked out and screamed as if we were trying to kill him in deep water, despite us holding him. He said it was "too wet" but at the same time he enjoyed the baby pool where he could control what he was doing. I took him on the swings, and he also burst in to terrified tears. The swing was, according to him, "too swingy." He has since told me that he does not like the slide at Center road school because it is "too slidey" or the see-saw type thing because it is "too tippy" and at gym class at each school they have tricycles for the children to ride. I've been told that they haven't yet seen a child so scared of a ticycle. He acts as if it might kill him and cries when asked to try, so now he just watches. The tricycles are... what else? "Too rolley" of course. I dunno? Go figure. He is also obsessed with vehicles and has taken to watching those Discovery Channel shows where they feature the big "mega-excavators"and such. I wonder if it's as bad to let him watch the Discovery Channel as cartoons? He's memorized the name of every type of construction vehicle since bridge construction began this summer at the end of our driveway. Abby has to cover her ears and close her eyes because the noises are too much for her, but she goes willingly to visit the trucks anyway because of her love for Noah. Sometimes watching twins is so cute (other times it's well... not so cute. They are plotting to take over the world just so you know.) The truck drivers all wave to Noah (and Abby whose eyes and ears are closed), and the garbage man waits for him, or at least did before Noah stated school, because Noah LOVED watching the garbage truck. The garbage man said he waited for Noah because none of his other costumers clapped for him and jumped up and down with excitement as their garbage was hauled in to the truck:-)

My kids are goof balls. I love how different and unique they all are. I love how they all show their individual personalities and have strong preferences, and now that Abby has joined the club of verbal kiddos, it's even more of a blessing to have 4 very individual and quirky kids who I get the privilege of raising and watch grow in to independant adults. I didn't know what else to write about because I have no life outside of the kids, but wanted to update the blog. For anybody else, this information will be boring, but hey, it's more interesting to me than laundry. If you find this too boring to bare, I will gladly update the blog about how our washing machine always eats socks. It really does. Maybe this is one Mikailey's new "green" inventions - a sock powered washing machine meant to save electricity:-)

Einstein Head, and Jump

2008-07-07T00:00:00.008-05:00

I have nothing much to say tonight, but as I was looking through some pictures I found one in particular I just had to post. We got a trampoline for Mikailey on her birthday, really more as a family gift, but hey, it made a big impression for her birthday because it's a BIG trampoline.

Anyway, this is what a long haired hippy boy + a dry day + static electricity does to hair when a kid rubs his head on the mat of the trampoline and then jumps. Cool, eh?

This is Mikailey jumping in her very appropriate frog sleeper the night we finished putting the monster together back in April. She had to give it a few test jumps even though it was way past bed time on a school night, of course:-)

And a few of the twinkies on their third birthday. I was about to call them the babies as we always have, but now that they are three, and not even toddlers but PRE-SCHOOLERS (oh my GOD, where has the time gone?) I guess that's not appropriate. Anyway, here they are flying around at 100 mph. I love the trampoline with it's huge netted enclosure - it's like an oversized playpen:-) I can just sit in the chair and I swear if I didn't drag them out they'd never run out of energy - little Energizer bunnies going "boing, boing, boing, boing" non-stop. Normally when we are outside they are going 100 mph but in opposite directions, so the whole bouncing in a restricted area thing is a big hit with me, plus we just put a sprinkler under it, in the wall, or add some water balloons and poof, instant summer fun in a place they can't escape. Anyway, here are the pics:-)

A Box of Rain

2008-04-15T00:16:00.016-05:00

"A box of rain will ease the pain and love will see you through" - Box of Rain, Grateful Dead

I'm a little weird in that all of our pets are named after Grateful Dead Songs, but I'm weirder in other ways, so this quirk is pretty innocuous if ya ask me. We've had Casey Jones, Lucky (from "Lucky old Sun") Cosmic Charlie and now Rain (from "A Box of Rain")

Anyway, on Friday, my awesome cat, Casey (Casey Jones) was put to sleep after a long life. I had her for about 10 years and then we moved in to an apt. that had a zero tolerance cat policy (like if they saw one they'd evict us). We did this in order to get our kids in a better school district, and so my sister took her for us. It was supposed to be temporary, and we planned to buy a home quickly, but we stayed in that apt. complex longer than expected and then when we bought our home five years later they were very attached to Casey, so my sister and her husband kept her. She was an awesome cat. When I adopted her she was too young to be away from her mother and was also the runt of the litter. I bottle fed her and carried her around in my hoodie sweatshirt pocket for a long time. She seemed to fit in the palm of my hand forever. She also would ride around on my shoe while I walked:-) She slept on my belly every night, including when I was pregnant with Jordan and Mikailey. And she was one of those cats who actually listened to important things... she never went in the crib when Jord and Mikailey were infants. Instead when they cried, she'd walk around the edges and meow ... just helping them call me:-)She was just one of those super cats with a calm friendly disposition... a furry, purry, love ball. She was super sick and suffering without any hope of getting better though... very sad near the end. She's not in pain anymore, but man, everyone was really sad about her death.

Here was Casey Jones in 1999 looking healthy and hanging out on top of our entertainment center:

And here is Casey shortly before she was put to sleep on Friday. She was barely able to open her eyes and couldn't walk right. Her cancer came back strong and she wasn't able to eat at all, only lick the gravy off her food and starve, and it was just very very sad. Even though she was suffering she came right over to lick me and purr, and even in her pain she seemed to know I needed her to come be with me to say good-bye. She tried her hardest to hang out with me and keep her eyes open for a few minutes. I'm glad she's in a better place now (I believe cats go to heaven too!!:-)

Anyway, here is one of my favorite Dead Songs ever, written for Phil Lesh when his father was dying. I'm not being dramatic about the cat. I just love this song:-)

Box of Rain - Grateful Dead

Look out of any window
any morning, any evening, any day
Maybe the sun is shining
birds are winging or
rain is falling from a heavy sky -
What do you want me to do,
to do for you to see you through?
this is all a dream we dreamed
one afternoon long ago
Walk out of any doorway
feel your way, feel your way
like the day before
Maybe you'll find direction
around some corner
where it's been waiting to meet you -
What do you want me to do,
to watch for you while you're sleeping?
Well please don't be surprised
when you find me dreaming too

Look into any eyes
you find by you, you can see
clear through to another day
I know it's been seen before
through other eyes on other days
while going home --
What do you want me to do,
to do for you to see you through?
It's all a dream we dreamed
one afternoon long ago

Walk into splintered sunlight
Inch your way through dead dreams
to another land
Maybe you're tired and broken
Your tongue is twisted
with words half spoken
and thoughts unclear
What do you want me to do
to do for you to see you through?
A box of rain will ease the pain
and love will see you through

Just a box of rain -
wind and water -
Believe it if you need it,
if you don't just pass it on
Sun and shower -
Wind and rain -
in and out the window
like a moth before a flame

It's just a box of rain
I don't know who put it there
Believe it if you need it
or leave it if you dare
But it's just a box of rain
or a ribbon for your hair
Such a long long time to be gone
and a short time to be there

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DAelvSEL5a8

Super Powered Cheesy Ice Cream

2008-04-08T19:28:00.007-05:00

OK OK it's not ice cream, but it's cool and decidedly unhealthy. I will admit to the (very limited) public audience who reads this blog that I have a secret, long term, special affection for cheese in a can. Yes, I eat "cheese product" that squirts out of a can and I like it. How could anybody not love cheese that SQUIRTS from a nifty little can and allows you to draw random pictures on your crackers when you're bored? I'm not going to a support group to stop this addiction - I fully intend to stay addicted to spray cheese. Tonight Chris and I were bored and had the bright idea of putting Easy Cheese in Bugles (those little corn chip snacks, also definitely unhealthy) instead of on crackers, and make little cheesy ice cream cones. He's getting better with his new photography hobby and with a little help from photoshop, managed to get all the background out neatly (the background was my stained by feeding the twins their dinner sweat pants, so you can see the need to get rid of it, lol). Unfortunately we again got bored and forgot to have me hold it from the top and take a picture of the bottom of the Bugle/cone (where I was holding it) so he could photoshop the bottom of the cone on and create and entire cheesy ice cream cone. That's probably a good thing... I've heard that couples who spend too much time taking pictures of food products have a higher divorce rate (? ? yeah I made that up but it could be true... and oh wait, we're not married so I guess that doesn't apply) Anyway.... here's a cheesy cone... have one, they are good, I promise:-)

Same Whale, Different Day

2008-04-08T10:46:00.015-05:00

Yeah, I'm cranky and wanted to name that "same shit, different day" but I put on my smile and we took the kids to the Mystic Aquarium. First let me gripe. How the heck does that tiny aquarium get away with charging $28 for adult admission? This is NOT the Boston or Baltimore Aquarium (worth every penny) and sooo not Sea World (also worth every expensive penny). They don't have dolphins anymore. What the heck? Last time we went they *did* have dolphins and a show, but unfortunately the dolphins were dumb... OK, they weren't dumb, but they were "in the process of training" ... guess they never got trained because they weren't there anymore, lol. Last time we sat for the dolphin show, and I must admit it was amusing *not* because the dolphins were amazing and did super jumps through hoops like the ones at big aquariums, but because they didn't listen at all, which is probably better for the dolphins and pretty funny to watch . The show had us cracking up at least, not in amazement of their wonderful tricks, but just because those un-trained dolphins were cool and funny, and certainly had minds of their own. They would ask a dolphin to go through a hoop and instead it would swim away and go over and soak the audience on purpose with a good splash, which it thought was funny (I don't speak dolphin, but I know it thought it was funny, and it was), then go try to get it's reward fish anyway for *not* jumping through the hoop, and have a little dolphin tantrum when it didn't get that fish... then it would randomly do high jumps or just grab the hoop and swim away with it. Instead of fetching the balls and bringing them back, the dolphins would play ball with each other, and actually accidentaly flipped it in to the audience. They did some cool stuff... but it was their own cool stuff, certainly not "trained dolphin" stuff. I liked those "dumb" dolphins... refusing to jump through hoops and then hopping through them when they weren't supposed to, or just taking the hoop and bringing it for a swim. (That's of course what I want to do when I'm supposed to jump through hoops in life, so you can see why I liked those dolphins!l) At any rate they are gone and there was some "sea lion training session" show we missed. I doubt we missed much. The place is tiny and you have to go around it three times to make an afternoon out of it.

OK, now that I'm done with my whining about the stupid little aquarium's prices and lack of dolphins, I will share the good parts. The twinkies were *thrilled* beyond belief to see all the fish - especiallly the brightly colored rainbow fish, sea lions, the deadly blue frogs (you wanna confuse a two year old show them a BLUE frog:-) and of course, the same old whale. (They haven't been to Sea World for comparison, and they didn't pay... they just had a blast). Their excitement was infectious and I had a good time despite myself. It wasn't too hot or too cold, they pretty much all behaved, and well... we managed to do *something* with all 6 of us which isn't easy. There just aren't too many things that appeal to all the kids - an 11 year old, a 7 year old, and 2 year olds (one autistic) - and the aquarium fit. I WANT to go to Disney, which also is a fun time for people of all ages, but we're just dreaming about that and saving for someday... it always gets put off by all those pesky bills.

Anyway, here's the last time we visited the old whale:

And here is the same whale on Saturday:

The whale is pretty darn cool, I have to admit. It swims around in circles, and *always* goes right by the window to say "hi" to the visitors. The poor thing has probably been swimming the same small circle for God knows how many years, because as far back as I can remember that small whale has always been swimming in that small tank (can you say "Save Willy"?.. although I don't know this particular whale's name). Anyway, if you knock on the tank, the whale swims by and says "hi" which the kids love. Not sure how much the whale loves it, but I've got bigger things in life to worry about.

Now on to other pictures. We got a super high speed camera (my digital just takes forever to snap a second picture after the first). This new gadget, given to Chris by a good friend, can snap more than 60 pictures in a minute. We have NOT EVER gotten a single picture with all four kids even looking at the camera at once, let alone smiling, and we thought *maybe, just maybe* if we had a camera fast enough, we might be able to catch one of those pictures. No joke, this camera took seven HUNDRED pictures of the kids in front of this blue photo wall the aquarium has... yes, 700... and nope, not one with all looking and smiling... we shall try again later... or just photoshop them together and pretend we finally got one. At least the kids got new tye-dyes out of the deal... gotta love the tye-dye

And then, about 45 seconds later... the twins decided to ditch the whole posing for pictures idea and make a run for it :-)

And just for fun, here was our other pathetic attempt at a "kids all smiling together" picture near a different area. We got about 400 of these... but no group smiles. I think Abby dug something good out of her nose though, so she was happy

I will try again tomorrow

2008-03-31T21:31:00.003-05:00

"Courage does not always roar
sometimes courage is the quiet voice
at the end of the day saying,
'I will try again tomorrow' "
Mary Anne Radmacher

Somebody really important to me gave me this quote on a refrigerator magnet as a good-bye gift today, somebody I love but had to say good-bye to forever. (I don't think this person realized that it will never go on my fridge and be subjected to thrown food by the twins, or worse.. bite marks.. but will sit on my desk instead:-) Anyway, I like it and it's so very true. I'd write more, but I'm not in the mood..... too sad right now. I will try again tomorrow.

Rainbow tattoos make the world seem better:-)

2008-03-30T23:38:00.011-05:00

OK, just my opinion here, but I firmly believe that rainbow tattoos make my world better. I get piercings when I feel the urge, but I only get tattoos when, well, there's a real inspiration behind it. I got my first Ankh (Egyptian symbol for life) on my 18th birthday not long after my father died, to affirm that I intended to live and survive. I would have gotten it sooner but any place that's actually safe tends to follow the 18 and older law. Then I got my rainbow ankh anklet shortly after Jordan turned 1, to celebrate a new life, a new beginning, a new family. Today was just one of those days - a rainbow tattoo day. Lot's of stuff going on that's had me down lately but I won't bore you with that. Today was just the day. I had been planning a bracelet but decided today what I wanted it to say, so I went to my place and told them what I needed. They said they couldn't fit me in. I said "but you don't understand, when I get a tattoo it has to be on the right day and I need it today!" lol. Both guys at the counter said no until one tattoo artist said "I understand, I'm the same way, I'll fit you in even though I'm booked"... and he did even though today is a Sunday and they were about to close. So I got my rainbow, and for now at least the world seems like a better place to me:-) And it's not something I'll ever look down at and regret, which is always good when getting pictures on your body you can't ever get off! Oh, and why a RAINBOW tattoo? I like the colors of course, but I always figure if I'm going to use colors, I might as well also make my little statement, however subtle, with the rainbow colors in order... people may notice or not, but since the rainbow has become a symbol for gay rights, I believe... (I already said this, I know) rainbow tattoos make the world seem better:-)

I discovered today that bracelet tattoos are hard to take pictures of (something about the wrist being round and all, lol) and that I'm not a very good photographer to begin with. But anyhow, here's my brand spanking new, just got the gauze off, slimy with cream, tattoo. It says "learn LIVE love" and "strong FAITH grace" with the rainbow colors overlapping in a way that is intended to fade and give it a tye dye looking effect in a little while. It's still raw and all that, so the colors look darker and make the writing harder to see than it will be in a while. When we see how the color blending goes I'll get the color part thicker and get a swirly outline, making it an official bracelet. But getting the rainbow and the words I wanted was enough to make my day. Tattoo days are big for me. For some they are just for fun, but for me... they always have a deep personal meaning.

And here's the old ankle one I still love. Not showing off the belly one.... it just didn't fare well after 4 kids. Maybe after a diet and a touch up at the tattoo shop that one will be in a posted pic someday too.

Frogs and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails..... Oh Wait, for us that's "Camps and Slugs and Potty Tales"

2007-08-10T23:23:00.000-05:00

Camps

OK, let's start with camps. Jordan went to the three week residential camp he won a huge scholarship for, but was only there for a week. I won't get in to the depressing details, but anyway, he was happy in his first day pictures. Mikailey just finished her Excursions in Learning day camp at MCC and had a blast learning about ancient Egypt and "Math that Isn't" ( as opposed to, uh, math that IS of course, right?) She came home with a pretty cool mummy from the Egypt class today!

Jordan getting dropped off (OK, I want to pout a little... I wish some things were easier for him even though he's lucky in so many ways)

Ms. Mikailey, always a happy (and hyper) camper
-
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SLUGS

Our garden became infested with slugs!!! They were all creeping on to our sidewalk and deck and the side of our house every wet night and it was just really skeevy. Most were normal sized, but some were as long as a pencil, like nasty, slimy, little, goopy, oozing snakes. eeeew. We started by just plucking them and putting them somewhere else (OK, I won't lie... it wasn't a nice "somewhere else," like a slug utopia, it was the sewer at the end of the driveway). I read on the internet that the easiest way to kill them is to leave out a pie plate of beer. I guess they are attracted to the smell and then drown themselves in it - it's probably not a bad way to go, as far as drowning goes. That worked, and there were like 100 in our pie plate after one night, but there were too many to catch with beer, unless we wanted to like buy a keg and a million pie plates (ya think the neighbors would think that's weird?) ... plus, why should the slugs get to stay up drinking beer on a school night? Chris eventually bought stuff to get rid of them and our house, deck and garden are no longer crawling with nasty shell-less overgrown snails at night. Anyway, Mikailey being the bug and creature lover she is, had quite a ball slug collecting at night with a flashlight. Not sure that's an activity most kids would beg for, but hey, we're a weird family!

Big gloves and lots of slugs ....she collected about 100 that night in her oversized rubber gloves.

Potty Time

First of all, this text would be more appropriate in yellow or brown, but those colors aren't fun to read and we didn't accomplish any yellow or brown in the potty anyway. The twinkies are starting to show signs of being ready to potty train, like announcing when they are going to poop or demanding a new diaper immediately, but I guess they're not quite ready yet. I WANT them to be ready so badly! I wonder how many diapers I've changed in my life? The constant diaper cost is one thing I won't miss about their baby days! I realize now that I should have shelled out the cash for the spiffy pottys instead of the $9,99 ones at Wal-mart. Why, you ask? Because they come apart waaaay to easily, and they are nearly impossible to snap back together. I'm not buying new ones, so the cheesy pottys will have to do. Anyway, the end result of our first potty experience ...... after a little sitting, and a lot of playing and exploring, they BOTH peed on the rug:-)

All ready to go... we've got shiney cheap new pottys and fun little undies!!!
Hmmmm, but taking it apart is SO much more fun than sitting on that strange chair, Mom! (If you're wondering... that weird white mark in the air isn't the camera doing something funky, it's a piece of a wipe being thrown by Abby as I took this picture) Look Ma, I took my potty apart too!!! Hey Noah, what was it we were supposed to be doing with these things?

These diapers are complicated!!! I'm DONE pottying on the floor, put this diaper back on for me please!!

It makes a much better hat anyway, don't ya think??

Happy Feet

2007-07-12T13:38:00.000-05:00

I'm not usually one to splurge on items that I think are obnoxiously over-priced, but I couldn't resist these back to school sneakers for Mikailey. C'mon, anybody, I dare you to try to tell me that these aren't the happiest shoes in town:-) Rainbow shoes, rainbow shoes, rainbow shoes!!! Who wouldn't have a great first day of school in rainbow shoes... in fact shouldn't these happy feet make the whole world better? I don't think Mikailey was as impressed with them as I am, although she likes them, but I want a pair of my OWN and they didn't have any in my size so I'm living vicariously through her. Don't you think they'd go perfectly with my rainbow ankle tattoo... should I tattoo Mikailey to match her shoes?
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As an aside, I got hit on by a receptionist at the Dr.'s office yesterday. She assumed I was gay because of my ankle (actually her exact words were "I thought your rainbow tattoo had special significance"). I'm starting to think it's like false advertising or something. But hey, it's NICE to get hit on by anyone when I feel like such a lump these days.... but for my whole life I've always been hit on by more women than I've EVER gotten hit on by men. More proof that my gaydar is off I guess? Oh well, I'm allowed to love the rainbow (and it's special significance for my friends) too right?

Happy Campers

2007-07-11T22:27:00.000-05:00

Mikailey settling in to her cabin on another campers bed- she was one of the first to arrive and got a "prime location" according to the counselor, which means she's next to two windows. She wanted the top of a bunkbed, but we heard those don't get good breezes, so we talked her in to the two window bed!

On her way to her cabin, looking a little confused, but excited

Yeah, we didn't send Noah off to camp, but he's always a happy camper on his car - I think he's going to be a truck driver or a professional car racer:-) Notice his unwieldy hair.... I love it!
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Today we sent Ms. Mikailey off for her first overnight camping experience. She was very excited, especially since she got to go at age 7 whereas Jordan's first overnight camping experience was at 9, and she always likes to "beat" him:-) They've got some serious sibling rivalry going on lately. Anyway, of course I think I'm much more worried than her!!!!! Will she get homesick? Will she crack her head open like Jord did at camp? Will she be scared at night? Probably none of these things... but I'm a worry wart about my little girl and this is the longest I've ever been away from her! She'll probably just come home with some bug bites and a big grin! I hope she has a blast and remembers this as a great experience. I still remember going to camp as a kid and how much fun it was. I always notice that she seems like a pipsqueak compared to the other kids her age, which makes her seem younger than she is, and she always looks disheveled, lol. It's hard to imaine her in 4th grade next year! My baby girl is growing up,

Kid Convention

2007-06-24T21:07:00.000-05:00

Jordan and friends (yey!!)
Preparing for a lecture at the university

Lots of nasty microbes live in the Mississippi river - that's my professional scientific opinion after looking at the squirmy living things under the microspope
My little scientist

Please Mikailey... don't break anything expensive!!

If you want to know why Jord has that scared look on his face while examining his specimen under the microscope, you'll have to ask him what grew in his petri dish after he swabbed the keyboard of the public use computer in the hotel lobby (yucky... you might want to wash your hands after using public computers!!)

Hanger sculptures are good... although hotel staff don't like them so much:-)

We're back from the kiddo convention:-) We just got back from the educational convention in Minneapolis, and I thought I'd be all rested and relaxed after my very first time away from the twins, but I'm exhausted!! The whole thing was fun. I got to catch up with friends and meet some new ones from across the country that I've only known online until now, and the kids got to hang out with old friends and make some new ones. Of course the whole educational component was very exciting for the kids as well - what could be more fun than nanotechnology, microbiology, forensic science, geometry with zome toys, neuroscience, etc. etc. ? Mikailey got to hold a real human brain, which I have to admit is pretty cool. I wasn't in the class with her so didn't get a picture.... but that's something I've never done and not something many 7 year olds can say they did on their last vacation:-) Jordan was pretty excited about working in a lab with real doctors, and even better, the creator of a very popular computer game called World of Warcraft. I didn't get many pictures during the classes offered at the hotel because the schedule was pretty tight and I was running around the whole time, but I snapped a few at the university.

I have to say the most amusing part of the trip for me, however, was watching about 600 kids along with their siblings and family members completely take over a really nice hotel. Gifted or not, they are still kids. At any given time there were about 30 kids going up the down escalator or down the up one, the 100 person capacity pool was full with at least 300 kids, and the halls, lobby, and all open floor spaces were full of kids running around, playing games and having a blast. There were about 30 convention rooms in the hotel, all used by our group, and since the hotel was in Minnesota where it is often -40 degrees in the winter, there were massive coat racks outside each conference room. Since it isn't coat season, there were just a million hangers on racks. I'm easy to amuse:-) The coat racks were continuously turning in to different hanger sculptures all over the hotel. The staff would get annoyed, huff and puff, and hang the hangers up right again, and each time, by the time they were done, kids had already sculpted another coat rack in a different location. Hanger sculptures are good:-) This went on for four days. OK so it's silly, but I found this more entertaining than the microbes.

Anyway, now that we're back and I'm ready for a loooong night of sleep without Mikailey in a double sized hotel bed with me!!

Just a little rant

2007-06-06T07:58:00.000-05:00

Grrr. I'm going through withdraw. No, not from any substance, but from our cameras. First my digital camera broke in early April. It wasn't dropped, it didn't land in the toilet, one day the menu just went crazy and it stopped working. And this wasn't just any digital camera - it was officially the best gift Chris has ever given me. (No offense hun, but the tub spa thing that squirts water all over the bathroom wasn't a hit, and neither is cash from our joint account... but I know you try dear). So anyway, my favoritest digital camera gift went in for repairs in the beginning of April, and is NOT back yet. We've called, we've emailed. They keep saying they're working on it. Are the digging for new metal to use, calling in experts from across the nation to figure out the electronics? Do they have some little man slowly hand building it piece by piece from a set of shematics written in a foreign language? What the heck? They mass produce them just fine so why can't they fix it? It's just a camera, it was under warranty - if they can't fix it, send me a new one!!
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I've been patiently and picturelessly (good invented word, eh?) waiting for months now. If Mary hadn't been at Mikailey's birthday I wouldn't have even gotten pictures of her birthday. So, right before the babies birthday Chris resurrected his old digital camera from somewhere deep in the scary storage area. It was working, so at least we'd have pictures of the twins' second birthday. Guess what? The kitten, Cosmic Charley, knocked it off the table the morning of the party and broke it. That one's not under warranty and we're not paying to get it fixed. On to plan C - Chris assured me that his mother has never come to a party without her camera, but her cell phone was off so we couldn't call to remind her. Guess what - she forgot it for the first time. Shucks. So now we have no pictures of the babies turning two. Grrr. I also have no pictures of anything from the last two months. OK, that's all. Rant over.

Two years ago today....

2007-06-03T07:58:00.000-05:00

5:30 a.m. June 3, 2005. Getting ready to go give birth. I still can't believe how VERY pregnant I was!!Welcome to the world Abigail Elizabeth!

Welcome to the world Noah Christopher!

Abby's tired...it's been a long day.

Noah all tuckered out after his grand entrance.

Aaaaah, together again. Check out the size of Noah's head..no wonder they thought he was bigger!

A picture of small part of the birth team (just my nurses), taken after all the chaos was over.

They always slept like this, cuddled together nose to nose.
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Two years ago today two new souls entered in to the world and our lives – I remember most of it like it was yesterday.

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It was a long and stressful pregnancy, much more taxing on my body and emotions than I ever would have guessed. First came the question of whether or not my cervix was competent, which involved 6 detailed ultrasounds over time by a specialist. I had cervical cancer the May beforethe August I got pregnant, which thankfully did not penetrate beyond the lining of my cervix and spread, but which did require laser surgery removing a large portion of the outer portion of my cervix. Because I was carrying twins, there was a high probability that my cervix would be “incompetent” leading to an early miscarriage or premature delivery. Luckily, that wasn’t an issue, but it was a constant looming worry every time they measured the length of my cervix through ultrasound and discussed the possibility of surgically inserting a cerclage, which is basically a procedure where they sew your cervix shut.

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Next came gestational diabetes at 20 weeks. I’m not prone to diabetes and have never had an issue with it in prior pregnancies, but my pancreas just couldn’t handle the added demands of twins. This meant an excessively strict diet and blood sugar testing 8 times per day. I did not want to go on insulin, so I religiously followed the diet. It got confusing, so I just resorted to eating the *same* exact balanced diet, spread over 6 “meals” every single day. Different things tended to throw my sugar off in weird and unexpected ways. A roll with a hamburger would throw me over the limit, as would half a banana, but for some reason an occasional square of a Hershey bar would not. I ate the *same* breakfast of exactly one cup of whole wheat Cheerios and ¾ cup of soy milk every single morning. Real milk also threw my sugar over the limit. I lived on sugar free popsicles to quench my sweet tooth. Knowing that gestational diabetes slows down lung development and twins already meant a high risk of an early labor was a constant motivator to stick religiously to the diet. By this time I was also on “modified bedrest” which meant I could get up to drive the kids to school and do little things, but couldn’t say, go baby shopping, carry Mikailey, or do much of anything. Also, around this time the peri-natologists were also getting concerned about Abby’s growth, and upped my growth scans at the peri’s office at Uconn to twice a month. As time went on, it seemed that Abby wasn’t growing properly. At the same time, Noah had polyhydramnios, which is excess amniotic fluid. This can mean many things that they can’t diagnose on the ultrasound, including kidney problems. Life from 20 weeks on was an odd mixture of caution, worry, endless doctors appointments, bland food, back aches and indigestion, days running in to nights, and hours upon hours of lonely boredom. I made a calendar for myself and counted down the days to a safe delivery, which for twins is 36 weeks. I surfed the internet while lieing on my left side for endless hours and tried, with little success, to sleep.

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By 30 weeks the “growth discrepancy” (you’ll read why this is in quotes later) was getting more and more concerning. In addition to weekly growth scans at Uconn, I had to add in twice weekly non-stress tests at Rockville Hospital. Growth scans, for those who are wondering, are sort of like the detailed 20 week ultrasound most people get once. They usually took up to 2 hours with the twins, and more than once I passed out on the table. How the high risk peri-natologists haven’t yet caught on to the problem with leaving a hugely pregnant woman flat on her back for two hours is a problem and cuts off blood flow, is beyond me. Non-stress tests are another adventure. You go and wear the monitors around your belly that they normally use to monitor babies’ heart rates during delivery, and you push a little button every time you feel a kick. On the print out, they compare the heart rate when the babies are moving to when they are still, to make sure they are still OK in there. Sounds simple enough, right? Not with two!! Most women getting NST’s were in there because they were past their due date. They’d come in and leave within 10 minutes. With me, it was a whole production. They’d get both monitors on, and without fail, the babies would change positions, or fall in to a deep sleep and refuse to move at all. Usually it took two nurses holding the monitors by hand, and forcing me to drink caffeinated soda with ice to wake the babies up (guess what, they feel cold when you eat ice!). This whole production took anywhere from 30 minutes on a good day to two hours on a bad day.

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By 28 weeks, I was measuring 40 weeks, by the way, which is the size I would normally measure on the day of delivery. By the time I gave birth, I measured 52 weeks pregnant, which is kind of like being pregnant with a 3 month old!! Anyway, by 32 weeks, they were getting more and more concerned. How do people get through twin pregnancies without help? Luckily, Mikailey was in daycare after I was put on bed-rest. I had a weekly OB appointment, a weekly peri appointment at Uconn, and 5 weekly NST’s from 32 weeks on! They diagnosed Abby with Intra-uterine growth retardation because she didn’t seem to be growing. But… they could never get good measurements because Noah, with his extra fluid, was all spread out like he was in a recliner and poor Abby was so squished, with her head in my left pelvis, that they could never get a good head measurement (which is the main one they use to estimate weight). Every appointment at Uconn was stressful, because each time I knew they might admit me and take the babies out early if Abby wasn’t OK. It didn’t help that I simply couldn’t get in many calories on my diabetic diet, with my stomach in my throat. I’ll also add that I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my life. Everything hurt. Fraternal twins, or identical twins in separate sacs, simply weigh more than two babies in a single sac (which is more dangerous, so that's not good either) because you have two separate amniotic sacs with fluid. Also, Abby felt like she might just fall out at any time, while Noah was actually under my rib cage (they had to ultrasound him through my ribs, and ultrasound Abby from my groin looking up towards my pelvis.) They also only seemed to fight when I tried to sleep, which I gave up trying to do laying down by 28 weeks (full term sized for a normal pregnancy). I felt like I had a huge octopus inside me, with 8 limbs poking out in every direction! The skin on my belly stretched so much it burnt and actually would get raw and bloody! I also had strong Braxton Hicks contractions from about 28 weeks on. Fun stuff.

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Anyway, back to the story. At 36 weeks after extensive testing, the doctors were confident that the twins’ lungs were fully developed. Since twins are under extra stress, their lungs develop early, which is a good thing because a full term delivery for twins happens at 38 weeks instead of 40. They always induce at 38 weeks because the placentas just stop functioning properly around then. Because of Abby’s growth problem, they decided to induce me at 36 weeks and 6 days, on a Friday morning. I have never been so ready to deliver in my life!!

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Exactly two years ago today, we all packed in to the car at 6 am. Chris dropped me off at the hospital, brought the kids to school and then came to be with me. Jordan, being the quirky guy that he is, felt that the car ride to the hospital would be a good time to relay all the research he had done on twin births. Of course I knew all the risks, but I didn’t feel like hearing them listed on the way to the hospital!! The poor kid was so worried! He also was in 6th grade, and had to take the 7th grade honors algebra placement test that day (he managed to ace it, so at least that’s good!).

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The labor and delivery was indeed stressful, but not incredibly painful. By the time they got their act together and got my IV’s and stuff in it was after 9 am. They started the Pitocin, and Noah’s heart was going crazy. From then on, not only was I not allowed to move, but I had to lie perfectly still on my left side to reduce his stress. Privacy wasn’t part of the deal, like with normal labors. I had 3 nurses with me the entire time, usually two hand holding the heart monitors because the babies just wouldn’t stay still enough for me to wear the belt thing. By 10 they stopped the Pitocin because Noah was in serious distress, and broke my water to see if that would progress things. Noah recovered a bit, although talk of a c-section was constant. They started the Pitocin at a lower dose again at 12. I barely felt the contractions which were 8 minutes apart, but still Noah wasn’t tolerating them well and I was stuck in a weird uncomfortable position on my left side. The contractions got regular and strong by 2 and I got my epidural. For those of you who don’t believe in epidurals, they aren’t optional with twins. I had to have one in before going to the OR for delivery in case of an emergency, so they could just quickly up the dose and do an emergency c-section. I was lucky enough to find an OB who would let me try for a vaginal birth at all, as most prefer just to do c-sections with twins.

Anyway, after getting the epidural at 2, when I was only 3 centimeters, I let the nurse know at 2:35 that I was delivering THEN. She didn’t believe me. I’d done this before, I knew!! After getting the epidural with Mikailey at 4 cm. I gave birth 45 minutes later. Anyway, she seriously didn’t believe me, and Chris was down in the cafeteria getting lunch because he thought he had time since I was only 3 cm. and comfortable with my epidural. The nurse finally humored me and checked, and sure enough Abby’s head was coming out!
They paged Chris over the intercom and a nurse went running to find him. Everything snapped in to high gear right then. They tell you to be prepared for a lot of action with a twin delivery, but I still wasn’t, lol. Chris came running up and he and my sister were quickly and dressing in to scrubs while I was already wheeled in to the OR. I was shaking, as often happens at the very end of labor, and arrived in the OR to a scene I hadn’t predicted….a tiny room packed with a large group of people running around in what seemed like pure panic and chaos!! I had 3 nurses with me to begin with, but I got to the OR to find at least 12 people in full surgical apparel. So much for modesty! They just kept shouting at me NOT to push because they weren’t ready so I focused on not pushing and checking out my surroundings. At each baby station there were 2 nurses for each baby, and a neonatologist, with resuscitation gear and all sorts of stuff I had never seen in a regular delivery. Our pediatrician, Dr. Parnes, was also there at my request. For me, there were at least 6 nurses, 2 anesthesiologists (I guess there was a back-up in case of emergency?) ready to up my epidural or knock me out at a moments notice, and there were also 2 OB’s – mine and a helper. All these people ran and materialized out of what seemed like thin air in less than 5 minutes, and all were breathless from the rush! Gawd, I told the nurse the babies were coming.... she should have believed me, lol.

When Chris and my sister got to the OR, breathless and squished in to weird places (we all simply did NOT fit), they finally gave me the OK to push. I tuned out my large audience and got to work. Abby came out in about 4 minutes, after only 2 pushes. After all the worry about her, she was just fine, with a healthy set of lungs. Next, the real fun began:-) The biggest risk in a vaginal twin birth is to baby B. Any number of dangerous things can happen, including the placenta detaching after A comes out. My OB told me from the beginning that if B turned breach I was going to have to have an emergency c-section and this was a risk I was assuming by insisting on a vaginal birth. Noah, who has been mischievous since he was in the womb, took the brief opportunity of more space (a short window after Abby came out before my uterus could contract and squish him) to flip himself in to a breech position. The anesthesiologist was ready to put me under a using general because Noah’s heart rate was going crazy and there didn’t look like there would be enough time for my epidural to get me numb enough for a c-section that way. She was holding the mask over my face, and I pushed it out of the way, sat up, looked my doctor in the eye, and begged her to flip him if she wouldn’t deliver him breech. I made the most pitiful face ever and said “I just went through labor and birth; you can’t do a c-section without at least trying to flip him!” She sighed and said she’d try to flip him, but only through one contraction and only if his heart rate didn’t’ get dangerously low. Thank God I had an epidural, because what came next was kind of like a horse birth. The other Dr. worked on flipping him from the outside, while my doctor grabbed his feet, shoved them back in, and literally had her arm all the way up in my business. She wrestled with slimy feet and arms, finally got his head down, and then the other doctor and two nurses pushed on me as hard as they could to make sure he couldn’t move again before my next contraction. I pushed once and he was finally lodged in the birth canal and crowning but didn’t come out (I was no longer dilated to 10 cm, and he had the bigger head). His heart was decelerating dangerously low, and with the next contraction the Dr. vacuum extracted him. I was moved to the OR by 2:40, allowed to push at 2:48, delivered Abby at 2:52 and delivered Noah exactly 8 minutes later at exactly 3:00 (in only 8 minutes he flipped, they flipped him back, I pushed, and they opened the vacuum kit and used it to suck him out…not bad, eh?). So, while it was an uncomfortable labor, it was a short one… my real contractions started at 1, they got really painful by 2 and two babies were born by 3. When I got to the OR, it all went so fast it was just amazing and overwhelming. I couldn’t believe the crowd of people cheering, or the feeling of looking over at TWO screaming, completely healthy babies!!

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After all that stress, it turned out that Abby did not have any growth problem at all. They estimated that Noah was over 7 pounds and Abby was barely 3 pounds, but they only had a weight difference of 5 oz.! It turned out that Noah had benign external hydrocephalus (extra fluid on the brain) which caused him to have a huge head, and led them to over-estimate his size. Abby, on the on the other hand, had short legs. They could never get good head measurements on her because of her position, so the main measurement they used was her femur. So Noah had a big head and Abby had short legs, but they were both almost the same size and they were both healthy!! Since I was induced early, they were a little small, but they were perfectly mature and didn’t need the neonatologists, oxygen, or (thank God) an emergency trip to the NICU at Uconn! Abby was 4lbs 11 oz, and Noah was 5 lbs 4 oz., and they were both absolutely perfect!!

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I was back in my room, all cleaned up and nursing two babies by the time my mother picked the two big kids up from school and got them to Rockville Hospital. After having gestational diabetes and religiously following that strict and miserable diet, I was finally free to eat whatever I wanted. I demanded that all visitors bring at least one food item with sugar or carbs. I ate an entire Paul’s pizza for dinner that night and spent my time in the hospital balancing two babies with cake, cookies, French fries or candy.

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My other two pregnancies were uneventful. This one was filled with worry from 12 weeks on when they started talking about the possibility of an incompetent cervix, and then the gestational diabetes, risk of premature delivery, the suspected growth discrepancy. They made us tour the NICU at Uconn, and had us prepared for the worst -most twins aren’t born at term. They told me to expect a c-section – most twins don’t cooperate and both position themselves head down before birth (Noah kept changing positions until the day of birth.. and even after Abby’s!). I discussed the risks at length with our pediatrician and the peri-natologists and understood that if anything went wrong, if either of the babies needed to spend time in the NICU, they would be transported to Uconn immediately without me. I believed it was all going to go right and so decided to give birth at my hospital with my own OB. And in the end, after all those weeks of worry, everything went just fine.

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Two years ago today, I left for the hospital feeling more pregnant than I imagined humanly possible and then I sat holding two beautiful new babies in total shock and awe. I couldn’t believe how perfect they were. I couldn’t believe I just had TWO more children, that I was now a mother of four! I couldn’t believe that I could already tell their cries apart, or how often at least one out of the two of them was crying! I couldn’t believe the rollercoaster pregnancy was over and the real adventure, which I still couldn’t imagine, was just beginning. I couldn’t put them down and send them to the nursery to take a much needed rest. Two years ago today, I sat staring at two beautiful babies. One journey had come to an end, a new journey, their journey through life, our journey together as a family of six, had begun. Already I couldn’t imagine my life without them.

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Today I type with two rambunctious toddlers at my side. Noah is zooming around on his little car and Abby is using him as target practice to hone her Elmo throwing skills. In a few minutes I’ll start to get the dining room cleaned up for their second birthday party. Honestly, this might have been the longest two years of my life. Suddenly it seems like it’s all flown by, though. I can’t believe they are two!!! I can’t believe my last two babies are no longer babies!!

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Abby and Noah – I love you more than more than I could ever express in a little blog entry. I love you both differently and infinitely. Have a wonderful second birthday. Your lives are just beginning guys – the future is wide open. As much as I sometimes wished that I could freeze time and keep you as tiny babies for just an extra little while (your first year was a blur!!) I can’t wait to watch you grow and see what your future holds.

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Oh, and just for the record guys, you only get to go through the “terrible twos” once, so live it up while you can. By this time next year, I expect you both to be potty trained, sharing your toys, and never having dramatic “throw yourselves on the floor” temper tantrums. OK, maybe that’s not realistic, but potty training would be nice – your diapers cost a small fortune guys:-)

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I know it’s still just beginning, but all I can say about these last two and a half years is: “What a long strange trip it’s been”….

Tag I'm "IT"

2007-06-01T11:08:00.000-05:00

I’ve been “tagged” by my friend Gina. I’m IT! Being IT means I have to divulge 7 random facts about myself, which is fun:-)
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1)Since Gina talked about peeing on pregnancy sticks, I’ll share my own pregnancy test stories.
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First time – Jordan. I “knew” I was pregnant even though it was technically a surprise, and we were using multiple forms of birth control… everything short of dressing Chris in full scuba gear. I can never do anything without doing it in excess, so I started by peeing on one – positive. Then I bought every other brand in the store and got a full array of different colored double lines, plus signs etc.. I bought Chris a card, a little pair of baby socks, and put them along with a few pregnancy tests in a small “you’re going to be a daddy” gift bag.
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Mikailey, I also “knew” before it was even time to know. She was planned so I waited as long as I could possibly stand it. I drove to the CVS near Taco Bell and bought a test, but I was so sure I was pregnant I didn’t want to go home to take the test. I had 2 year old Jordan in tow and I brought him with me to the Taco Bell, bought him a choco-taco ice-cream and had him eat it in the bathroom while I peed on the sticks in the stall. Getting my double lines as expected, I was able to avoid a two trip afternoon with a cranky 2 year old. We went and got the baby socks, the card, the gift bag, and I presented it to Chris when he came home from work.
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The twins – lol, we *thought* we had this down to a science because apparently I’m obnoxiously fertile. We planned on a June baby, which would have given me enough time to graduate in May and take the summer off. So much for planning, lol. This time around we wanted to be exact in our timing, so I made the choice of buying an ovulation predictor kit. Hmmm, still not sure if that was a good idea. I had never used one before, but sure enough it told me when I was ovulating and we took care of business. Only one problem – you’re supposed to continue testing after the “peak” to confirm that it was the real thing. As expected, the line got lighter but then exactly three days later it got really dark again. Figuring I was just not a seasoned OPK user, I woke a very sick Chris up (poor guy had a fever, strep throat and bronchitis) showed him the line and dragged him out of bed. Only about 12 days later when I was already puking my guts out did it occur to me that I may have ovulated TWICE. Was it even possible to get pregnant twice on two separate days? Nah, I thought I must be imagining things! Chris went out and bought our ritual baby socks when we got our positive pregnancy tests because I was already feeling like crap.
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Chris hadn’t planned on going to that 8 week appointment where they confirm the pregnancy and look for heart beats with the special ultrasound (you know the one ladies, lol), because he had a *very* important business meeting. I didn’t mind, I’d been through this twice already and I’d bring home pictures. But by 8 weeks I was *sure* I was having twins. I just knew it in my gut (which wasn't holding anything down, by the way!). I called Chris the morning of the appointment and told him he HAD to come because I was having twins. He got a lot of crap at the office, but made it to the doctor’s thinking I was crazy. He joked with the nurse that he was just “making sure I wasn’t actually having twins” and she reassured him that the chances of that were slim. When two heartbeats appeared, Chris turned as white as a ghost. He was holding a 4 year old Mikailey and didn’t drop her, but kind of lost a grip and let her slide down his leg to the floor. The twins had separate membranes and placentas, so it was clear they weren’t identical. At that young age, when measurement is very precise, they measured exactly 4 days apart in gestational age. I asked the doctor if it was possible to conceive twins on two separate days, three days apart. She confirmed that yes, it is possible. Sperm live for up to 72 hours, and the cervix doesn’t close as a result of being pregnant until an egg is fertilized. I ovulated twice on different days and both eggs got fertilized. Of course enough swimmers from ovulation day 1 might have lived to fertilize both eggs regardless, but my advice to those who are planning on one baby – don’t “try again” if you notice that you ovulated twice!!

2) While on the subject of babies, I’m going to reveal a secret that only a few close friends and family knew until now. We sold the twins’ names on ebay for $10,000. No that’s not a joke. Here’s how it went down. I was 16 weeks pregnant and we saw a story on the news about a woman in CT who auctioned off her baby’s name on ebay, at first just trying to think of a name in a fun way. It ended up selling for 10K to goldenpalace.com – the internet based casino that advertises by doing crazy ebay auctions because they can’t legally advertise any other way. They named her, of course, GoldenPalace.com. They are the ones who bought the “Virgin Mary grilled cheese” for 70K and made worldwide news. They paid somebody else 10K to tattoo goldenpalace.com on her forehead, which is a rotten deal if you ask me. I did some research – they usually *never* buy the same weird thing twice. I did some more research. In CT it costs $200 to legally change a name. If you make a mistake in the hospital, however, you can correct the spelling and get a new “original” birth certificate for free within 2 weeks. So up our auction went – “Name our twins – buy one get one free!” and for 10K we promised to name the babies what they wanted, provide copies of the birth certificates and one picture of the babies in GoldenPalace hats. We doubted they’d notice the auction or do the same thing twice. It was just a joke really….until they emailed us and then called. We did it! Yes, within 5 days we got 10K wired to us from an off-shores Caribbean account. We were financially hurting in a big way at the time, and despite the negative publicity we got (although it was always just in theory, we *never* did a news interview in person), we didn’t feel like we did anything mean – their names would change, and this would make it possible for us to buy them what they needed and put a down-payment on a place with more than 2 bedrooms.
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Now here’s the funny part. One twin was supposed to be GoldenPalace.com and they couldn’t figure out a name for the other. Better yet, they forgot to make us add in to the auction the little term “publicity rights” which would mean they could put our stuff on their website (they just assumed we'd want to because most people who sell to them like the attention) – we never allowed them to put our auction or the babies' pictures or birth certificates on their infamous website. Within a week they bought triplets’ names, and then soon after came the Pope’s old car. They forgot about us!!
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All through the pregnancy we debated about who was going to have to go to town hall and say “oops, I meant to spell Noah like N-o-a-h, I’m not sure how I spelled it GoldenPalace.com, can you just fix that?” Kind of embarrassing, but whatever, the look on their faces would have been priceless.
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The casino spends money like it’s going out of style and loses track of what they are doing. Being an honest person, I emailed my contact person 6 times asking what I was supposed to name the second baby. They mailed the hats and gave us GoldenPalace.com t-shirts for pictures, but the guy didn't get back to me until AFTER the babies were born! Ooops. Abby was supposed to be GoldenPalace.com and Noah was supposed to be GoldenPalacePoker.com... but we were already home from the hospital (not my mistake - I was induced and gave the guy the exact date!!) The guy was a little worried about not remembering to do his job, so we scanned in the babies birth certificates and altered the PDF’s to make it look like they got their assigned names, and that was it. I'm sure the guy wasn't especially pushy about getting us on the website considering his over sight. Instead, he told me he'd be happy to just let it "die out." I spoke to him a year later and he said his boss never even looked at the birth certificates or pictures. The babies never went on the website, nobody ever knew it was us, we never really named the babies.... and the funniest thing was that they didn’t care one bit. 10K was like pocket change to them. They sent us two of the biggest flower/balloon arrangements I’ve ever seen to congratulate us after the birth and then it was over. I never heard from them again. I can’t figure out how to post a picture of the auction site we saved because it’s in explorer and expired on ebay (you can see it at my house though if you wanna) but here’s the goldenpalace ebay website http://www.goldenpalaceevents.com/auctions ….which we are NOT on. How we got $10,000 for *nothing* still amazes me. We sometimes call Noah "Poker" which confuses people, but now you'll know why if you hear me call him that:-)

The secret GoldenPalace.com babies

3) Hair: Also stealing one of Gina’s topics. They say Brittney Spears was crazy for shaving her head, so I’m not sure what this is going to divulge about my mental health. Brittney’s got nothing on me. When I was young I wore my hair in short spikes with a tail. Hmmm, I wore my hair in cornrows as a teenager when I was living in a placement. Nobody cared that I was the only white girl, the kids just liked doing cornrows when they were bored. At about 20 I dyed parts of my long hair purple and wore the purple parts in skinny braids with beads which kind of mixed in and looked nifty. Then I cut my hair again and wore it in all sorts of colors, my preference being blue or purple. I stopped that when I was pregnant with Mikailey because I just couldn’t carry it off with my big belly and swollen face. My last interesting hair style was dread locks, which aren’t easy to do on straight white girl hair, but I managed. I liked my hippy look but finally cut them off when they got so heavy that they were hurting my neck! They are also a *high maintenance* hair style for a white person, requiring constant rolling, especially at the roots where the hair grows out straight and doesn’t immediately want to join the dread-head.

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4) Piercings: even more boring. I pierced my nose at 13, leading to my expulsion from Christian school. I never got why they thought God would care if a ring was in my nose instead of my ear, which apparently is cool with God. I refused to remove it and so got kicked out of school. Oh well. I also of course had tons of ear holes, which I eventually just took out because they were annoying. Next, after Jord was born I got my eyebrow, tongue and belly button pierced. They eyebrow ring wasn’t done right (too shallow) and kept working it’s way right though the thin skin. I got it redone for free twice, and the same thing happened. It hurt each time it worked it’s way out, so I just gave up. The belly ring came out when I was very pregnant with Mikailey and I never bothered to put it back in… figuring I’m in no shape to show it off anyway. The only remaining piercings I have are the nose and tongue ring. All of the piercings looked extreme when I got them (they weren’t so common then!) and I kind of lost interest as everyone started to get pierced.

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5) Tattoos: I have a purple Ankh on my belly that I got done on my 18th birthday. I’d advise all 18 year old females to avoid getting tattoos on their bellies – they never look right again after a pregnancy. I also have a ring of rainbow colored Ankhs on my ankle. The tattoo guy questioned me if I really wanted a rainbow around my ankle, pointing out that rainbows are for gay pride and I wasn’t gay. I had to insist that I knew this and *still* wanted a damn rainbow. This particular tattoo is known as Chris’ glasses, because not knowing that he had recently gotten a prescription for glasses, I spent our last savings for the week on the tattoo impulsively. Oops again. He had to wait a month until we had money for his glasses. Until he got his glasses, every time we went for a drive, he’d insist that I put my ankle on the dashboard “to help him see.”

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6) I haven’t done anything illegal in a long time. I *did* however do legal drugs on my “girls only” trip to Amsterdam when Jordan was four and Mikailey one. I was obeying the law, I had no kids with me, and we weren't driving. I bought magic mushrooms from an actual drug store called “Conscious Dreams,” right out of a refrigerator! Each package of fresh mushrooms was in a neat plastic container just like the ones in our supermarkets, and each type was labeled with the intended effect. I chose “a mellow and light trip” rather than a more intense one. I thought I understood the world for a few hours, but it faded. I felt pretty deep and wise for a while though, lol. I also went to coffee shops, many of them, and experienced an enhanced enjoyment of Tibetan monks doing a performance near the Van Gogh museum among other things. While stoned on the funny Amsterdam trollys listening to all the Dutch speakers (Dutch sounds kind of goofy under any circumstances) I was never under the illusion that I was experiencing "heightened consciuosness" by the way - I just couldn't stop giggling, much to the chagrin of my buddy. At any rate, I came back from that vacation in a good mood:-) I won’t say anything about my fleeting “deeper understanding” of the world experiences before kids.

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7) I used to go to concerts. I saw the Dead once (the second to last concert before Jerry died) at Highgate VT. It was crazy! There were almost a half a million dead-heads camping in a huge air field in a town of about 50,000 people. It was an experience I’ll never forget. I’ve been to many Phish shows (without kids) with my buddy Kozmic Mary. I won’t talk about altered consciousness. Again, they were events you can’t imagine unless you saw them. Hundreds of thousands of hippy’s camping for days, makeshift shops, people doing crazy stunts, the Guiness record for the most nude people in one picture (I avoided that one). At the Oswego concert there was a Ferris wheel, buildings built to look like big blocks of Swiss cheese where you could climb up and sit in a cheese hole, 100 foot tall marshmallows on sticks randomly placed for no apparent reason, buildings with “trip rooms” where they had all sorts of weird gadgets and toys... that sort of thing. All very surreal and fun and weird. I took Jordan to see Phil Lesh at the annual Gathering of the Vibes while he was in kindergarten. He didn’t seem to notice that a lot of people were stoned (I was NOT) and quite frankly, I think he might be destined to grow up in to a hippy. He had a great time hanging out in the kids area with the other tye-dyed kiddos, exploring the tye-dye painted VW bus made just for kids to play on, and dancing like a fool with other kids at night with his glow sticks while the grown up dead heads did their thing – walking around in huge funny costumes, dancing while juggling fire, selling their homemade stuff etc.. I haven’t been to a concert since the summer before we decided to get pregnant with the twinkies. Oh well, I think I’m too old now.

Let's Party!

2007-05-15T22:22:00.000-05:00

Mikailey and Uncle Mike

Max swimming in the ball pool

Go Chloe, Go Chloe!!

Was Sam born to be a super-hero or what?

Max's winning, I can tell by the look on his face:-)

So pretty in her tye-dye and plastic ring!!!

Schkumbin looking as cute as a button with no front teeth!

Whack that mole Ms. Malak!!

Mikailey and Brittanie

Just a little wild... climbing the walls. I'm so glad they weren't MY walls!!
Sam wins the goofy grin award:-)

Wow! Mikailey is 7. It took me forever to get these party pictures up here. If Mary and Dave and my brother in law Mike hadn't stayed at the party to help out, I might have snuck out for a drink (just kidding.. I don't think the parents would approve of that). Mary is absolutely an expert party organizer and get kids excited and focused person. Thank you Mary - I think I might have lost some of those munchkins in the tube slides without you!! Of course, the cutest kids in the bunch are my friends' kids, Max, Sam, Chloe, and Schkumbin so I couldn't resist posting their pictures even though I couldn't post ALL the party pictures. But... doesn't the entire group just look adorable? My intention is to write a heart felt blog entry about each of my 4 kids, but tonight isn't the night for a deep "Mikailey" entry. I'll just say... yikes time flies. She was just a baby a minute ago!!

I love that smile

2007-05-14T14:21:00.000-05:00

"A child's smile is one of life's greatest blessings. " Author:Unknown

This is Jordan yesterday at a Boston Red Sox game with his dad, uncle, and grandfather. Baltimore was winning the game with a score of 5 to 0, when in the bottom of the 9th inning the Sox made an amazing comeback, scored 6 runs and won the game. People left the game in the 9th inning and gave up, assuming the Sox had already lost. I guess Jord got a little life lesson at a baseball game... you gotta stay in the game and hang on to hope even when everything seems impossible :-)

School's out for the year for Jordan, and it couldn't have come a minute sooner. More smiles and fewer tears.... that's the way I like it! Lets hope next year is better. I hope his early summer brings more and more real smiles:-)

Jordan Tyler

2007-05-09T09:51:00.000-05:00

"When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."

Kahlil Gibran

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Fairly recently a school administrator described Jordan as seeming no different from his peers except for “having a twinkle in his eyes.” Of course, this was used in a context to justify denial of services he desperately needed and we eventually won – or at least partly won. This pissed Jordan off to no end because, being on the autistic spectrum, he tends to interpret things literally and he knows that eyes don’t actually twinkle, and he also knows that he’s quite different from his peers in so many ways he can’t even understand. He understands the result of those differences though – rejection. This little off-handed remark stung me for a different reason. If ever there was a child with a twinkle in his eyes, it was my Jordan. That innocent, loving, enthusiastic, optimistic, little boy who was so full of life and hope feels lost sometimes these days.
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I deeply believe in God. I believe that things make sense, that things happen for a reason. But more and more lately, as Jordan’s mother I find myself asking “Why me?!!!” It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t seem fair. I don’t ask “why me?” because I feel sorry for myself. Quite the opposite, I ask because I feel terribly inadequate, because I feel like no matter how hard I try I am always failing my child. If the universe makes sense, what kind of rational God entrusts a person like me with the care of a child like Jordan? Born while his mother was only 19, to two parents barely recovering from their childhoods and not even living together yet – he came home to a one room basement apartment at my mother’s house. After my life, after my struggles, I was just learning to take care of myself.
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I considered giving him up for adoption, which is something I rarely tell people. I’m not sure if I even told Chris because it was just a thought and we weren’t always a couple during the pregnancy. It wasn’t because I didn’t love him or want him. On the contrary, as soon as I found out I was pregnant, and then later when he was just the size of a bean and I saw that beautiful little heart beat, I loved him more than I ever thought I was capable of loving another human being. I thought of giving him up for adoption because I loved him more than anything in the world, because even if my heart broke for the rest of my life for doing it, I wanted what was best for him. When I realized that we’d be able to meet his needs financially (he would never be spoiled, but he wouldn’t starve or go without clothing or medical care) I knew that I could be a good mother. I did everything I was supposed to. I read every pregnancy and infant/child development book in every library and book store around. He had everything he needed and was surrounded by love. I loved him, God how I loved him, long before he was even born (and still do, of course!).
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Unlike Abby who more often than not has a flat affect, and has always been reluctant to smile or show any reaction to all the attention she receives, Jordan was by nature an enthusiastic and expressive baby. And there was no doubt that he had a twinkle in his eyes. He smiled by two weeks. Not those accidental smiles you sometimes see newborns do, but real ear to ear grins. He wasn’t always easy because he demanded constant stimulation ..only to then get over stimulated and cranky, but in general I think he was the happiest baby I’ve ever come in to contact with. He was so excited to explore the world around him, and he would belly laugh with delight, with his chubby cheeks and irresistible dimples, when he discovered something new. He made people smile every where we went. As a new mother I thought this was the norm, but I’ve since realized that he truly was special. Every where – the grocery store, the gas station, department stores – he would babble and coo and attract people’s attention with his big grin.
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From his first birthday I had concerns about an autistic spectrum disorder because of his odd behavior, but he spoke and smiled and made eye contact when he wanted to, so I was easily reassured by his pediatrician. After all, he was speaking clearly by that first year physical when most babies are babbling or learning “mama” and “dada.” And despite the fact that he seemed odd, and did things like rip up paper for hours or knock objects off the table 500 times, there were so many things that were normal, no extraordinary, about him. But most importantly he was fun. His love of life was infectious. As many of you know, I’m not a morning person and never will be. But there was a brief time when I couldn’t help being a morning person. Jordy was so excited by each new day, by each new opportunity to explore the world and learn, that he actually made ME, the surly grumpy non-morning person, smile with delight each morning. For a good six months, probably between the ages of 18 months and 2, our morning ritual was always the same. He’d toddle his little diaper butt in to our room and jump up and down on our bed, barely able to contain his excitement. Each morning to him was like we were going to Disney World or embarking on a huge adventure. He’d shout “Mommy Daddy, look, look, it’s a new day!!! Look at the sun, look at the trees, look at the world Mama!! It’s going to be a GREAT day!!” Who wakes up like that? And who in their right mind could resist that joy and not wake up smiling?
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And indeed, every day was an adventure. Who knows what goes through the mind of a profoundly gifted 2 year old, but he certainly saw the world in a way that I’m sure I never will. Every object, every material, every part of nature was a fascinating and exciting challenge. And yes, he was utterly exhausting, but again, he was so much fun. He took everything in our house apart, he examined everything, he thought about everything, and he talked and talked and talked and talked. I tried so hard not to discourage him because he was so happy and excited that he just wanted to share every thought that popped in to his little head (but I’ll admit I sometimes tuned him out or wished he’d be quiet for just a few minutes). And his questions were relentless, but they were interesting. He made me think of things that I would never have given a moment’s notice to otherwise. He saw beautiful mathematical patterns in nature, he wondered about gravity and mass and the universe….and then he’d disappear in to his own world where all that mattered was listing things, or rocking back and forth. He’d cuddle and smile and laugh, and then he’d forget there were people in the world when he saw an interesting vacuum (one of his earliest and longest obsessions).
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By the time he was 4 his autistic behaviors became more and more obvious when compared to children his age. And while he was still mostly happy, there were times when we’d try to correct his behavior (mainly his repeating or “perseveration”) and he’d burst in to tears, pulling his hair or hitting his head with his little fists, exclaiming “My brain won’t stop Mommy, I can’t make it stop!!” Despite his differences, he got on his kindergarten bus that first day bubbling with excitement and life. I’ll never forget that day – he was still so happy and sure of himself. He was bouncing around waiting for the bus and said “Mom, isn’t this great!! I bet I’m going to learn about Fibonacci numbers and anatomy and everything I wonder about! Everyone’s going to love me, I’m going to meet so many new friends!!.” He came home disappointed when he found out he’d spend the year learning to count to 100, but still believed he’d meet tons of kids who would share his interests and become friends. It wasn’t until first grade, after 6 months of relentless bullying and teasing at a magnet school, that he became a different boy. Again, I’ll never forget that day either – the day he broke down crying and begged me not to send him to school, saying “I’m just not the kind of kid anybody is ever going to like. I hate myself, I hate school!”
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Things got better when he changed back to our neighborhood school and got to skip grades, but he’s never been the same as when he didn’t realize he was different. In so many ways his natural naiveté makes him seem like a 3 year old, but in other ways he’s like a weary old man. It’s such an odd mix – his extreme intelligence and autism. The teasing, the quiet rejection, the obvious differences – it’s all just worn on him, chipped away at his soul. His eyes show such a deep sadness, even when he can’t put it in to words, that it breaks my heart. That “twinkle” in his eyes, it’s been gone or faded for so long that I wonder if it will ever come back. He so often says he doesn’t feel like there’s “a place” for him in this world, anywhere where he would fit in, and while I know in my heart he will make a place for himself in adulthood, where people outside the family will accept him for who he is and love him, I don’t know how to help him find a place for himself right now. He gets angry like any kid, but he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. I don’t know if he isn’t capable of it because of the autism, or if it’s just his nature. Either way, he just seems so fragile. He may understand physics, but he doesn’t have the ability to understand human nature or all the cruelty in the world. Not that any of us can understand all the horrible things out there, but in a way I think everything - the kids who are mean to him, the prejudices, the things in the news, the wars and starving children - eats away at him and confuses him in a way that I don’t fully understand. Not that these things don’t all bother me, but I must have protections in place so that these things don’t paralyze me with grief. I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it, but he feels so vulnerable and I don’t know how to protect him from the world. I don’t know how to comfort him in a way that seems effective.
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God, when I held that new baby in my arms, when I saw those constant dimpled baby grins, I could never have imagined how much I’d cry for this child. I could never have imagined how hard I’d try to help him and still feel like I’m failing him more often than not. I could never have fathomed how much I’d grieve for my baby. Without ever having experienced abuse or neglect, with all the love he’s felt from his family, I could never in my worst nightmare have suspected that by 10 years old I’d be looking at such a deeply sad little boy. He’ll never again be that happy, un-hurt, exuberant child who got on the school bus for kindergarten, but I’m so scared that he’s permanently losing the person he was, the joyful person he can be, because with every month and year we see less and less of that Jordan. I’m so scared that this gentle soul who has so much to offer the world will be lost in his pain. It’s so hard not to be angry, angry at the world, angry at the people who hurt him, angry that I can’t seem to find a good place for him to be himself and grow, angry that he wasn’t blessed with a mother who could figure out how to make it all better for him. It’s so hard not to give in to despair, so hard to send him out in to a world that hurts him each day, so hard to watch his pain when I would do anything to take it all away and feel it for him. Sometimes I’ve felt really gypped, because raising such a gifted child has made it feel like there is such a short window where I’ve actually gotten to raise a child. He seems like a man in so many ways, and it feels like he’s raced ahead at a pace I can’t keep up with. Other times he seems so tiny and vulnerable, and I wish I could rush him to adulthood at light speed, where I believe he’ll find himself a place to be happy, and let him bypass all these growing pains. At 19, I could never ever have believed that with such immeasurable joy would come this depth of grief, or that the pain I would feel for him would be worse than anything I could ever feel for myself.
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I know deep down that there is SO much hope for him, that we can get through this, that he has so much potential and so much to offer the world. But when I see what seems like just a shadow of the child I used to have, it’s hard to believe he will be happy again. Lately, I cry so much for him that it’s hard to believe the world makes sense. It’s so hard to hold on to the belief that I was meant to be this boy’s mother when I feel so terribly inadequate for the job and when I feel that he deserves better in so many ways. Why was I blessed with such a special boy and entrusted with the Herculean task of raising him? Why me of all people? I just pray he always knows, in every fiber of his being, that I love him more than I could ever describe with words, that I tried, that I will always try, despite my many failures. I pray that he’s at peace with himself and content with who he is again one day, and that he’ll be able to look back and see that while I didn’t always make perfect decisions, and I couldn’t protect him as well as I wanted to, I did do the best I knew how. I know this sounds so cliché – but I hope love is enough to get him through. I hope that despite all my shortcomings, our deep love for him is enough to insulate and protect him while he’s weak, and learning to protect himself and re-discover the enthusiastic, happy, sweet, and confident person he was born to be.

Just feelin Phishy

2007-04-20T20:24:00.000-05:00

Wading In The Velvet Sea

Phish

I've been wading in the velvet sea

I've been wading in the

I've been wading in the velvet sea

I took a moment from my day

Wrapped it up in things you say

Mailed it off to your address

You'll get it pretty soon unless

The packaging begins to break

And all the points I tried to make

Are tossed with thoughts into a bin

Time leaks out my life leaks in

You won't find moments in a box

And someone else will set your clocks

I took a moment from my day

Wrapped it up in things you say

And mailed it off to you

Water in the Sky

Phish

Listen as she speaks to you

Hear the voices flutter through

The barriers arranged by you

Close the shutters draw the shades

Filter out the everglades

Glistening with evening dew

Thunder calls through waterfalls

Rising tides and ocean walls

I can hear you when you sigh

Listen as she speaks to you

Hear the voices flutter through

Watch them fall and let them lie

I can hear you when you sigh

Through the water in the sky

Random Rambling

2007-04-10T23:04:00.000-05:00

Hmmmm, I went to “coffee” with Mary Jane a few weeks ago, which was really soda because I haven’t yet acquired an adult taste for coffee and while we spoke I told her some of my quirks. “Well,” I said, “I’m not autistic but I’ve never outgrown my preference for separated food and ordering McDonalds cheeseburgers plain, which my mom thought I’d outgrow by 10.” She replied, “Not autistic, but you’re something!,” which is very true and fun to laugh about with a friend. Yup, I’m a weirdo. So here’s more “coming out of the closet” for me. Baby steps, no big revelations in this one.
1) Food: I’m still a kid here. I like my food separated. For example, corn must not touch potatoes, gravy from potatoes must not run on to chicken etc. I didn’t cook (OK lets be realistic, I didn’t order my take out KFC meal) with corn-potatoes, I ordered corn AND potatoes. Maybe weird but whatever, it’s my plate. I don’t do sushi or caviar. I still order my McDonalds cheeseburgers plain because I always hated it when my mother said “oh just scrape the other stuff off.” I’m picky. Why put the crap on to begin with just to scrape it off?
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2) Wine: I hate wine. Red wine, white wine, cheap wine, expensive wine, it all tastes like crap to me. I’m terribly uncultured. Couldn’t tell a two hundred dollar bottle from a ten dollar one. At one point I was embarrassed by this, especially at company dinners and in-law parties. Now I just flaunt my weirdness because it’s more fun than faking. I do like one kind of wine, if it’s really wine – Boone’s Farm Lemonade Wine. It’s an “apple flavored wine product,” mostly consumed by teenagers and homeless people, I believe. It costs $2.99. To go with my fine wine, I like cheese. My personal favorite is Easy Cheese in a can, which is again some form of “cheese product.” It goes good with Boone’s Farm and Ritz crackers, and at a Phish show Kozmic Mary took a picture of an Easy Cheese Buddha on a Wheat Thin. That’s a good sign, I think. Besides, instead of floundering around not knowing what to order or holding my breath to swallow down horrible tasting wine, it’s just so much more fun to ask for Boone’s Farm at a fancy restaurant, and then follow that up with “and do you have spray cheese?” in a serious face. Oh, and this doesn’t fit in to food or wine, but as I mentioned I never grew in to coffee like the rest of the world. I drink Diet Coke, not Mocha Latte’s or Frapachinos or whatever the heck the cool people at Starbucks drink.
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3) Clothes and shoes: Yeah, never grew up here either. I own one dress that my mother bought me for a big fancy company Christmas party. It’s a size 7. When it fits I have a dress, when it doesn’t I take that as a sign that I don’t really have to wear one. I don’t own a “power suit.” Mostly, I wear men’s clothes, t-shirts, sweatshirts and jeans or cargo pants. .I don’t own a single pink garment, although I’m all about rainbow tye-dye stuff. I will never have a job that requires me to dress up each day, especially if it would involve panty hose. Panty hose suck. So do shoes by the way. I wear only sneakers and still wear Converse All Stars, whether they are currently “in” or not, and that seems to phase back and forth every few years. I prefer going barefoot. New England isn’t the best climate for that though.
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4) Sleep: I loooove sleep. I’m an insomniac, but once I’m asleep I hate to get up. My internal clock is backwards and has always been. My natural rhythm would be to stay up until about 5 am and sleep until 2 pm. This doesn’t work well with kids who get up at 6:30, but I still rarely get to bed before 2 am. Sleep and lots of it, especially on weekends, is what I miss most about my pre-motherhood life. When the kids are grown I’ll work a third shift job.
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5) Messes: I like messes. I feel comfy in clutter. MY clutter, that is. Other family member's clutter in our house annoys me, although other people’s clutter in their own houses makes me comfortable (I won’t invite neat knicks to hang out at our place if I can avoid it). My house is clean enough to be safe. No scissors in the babies’ reach, no food left out to rot, always clean dishes and clean clothes. But my desk is full of my clutter and I like it that way. The only reason every one else’s clutter bothers me is because every one else in the house asks me where their stuff is all the time. Chris, every morning, “where are my keys?,” Jordan, “where are my socks, my books, my video games?” Mikailey, “where are the shoes?”…” uuuh on your feet hun!” My clutter is organized in my own brain. I know where my stuff is, so I believe I have superior clutter, lol.. If I had a maid, I’d ask her to clean everyone else’s stuff and leave mine messy.
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6) Work: I think it’s over rated. I have no work ethic. There are lots of things I’d love to do, lots of ways I imagine myself making the world a better place. But, in all honesty, I’d much rather win the lotto and do those things for fun, when I feel like it. I think people who say they would keep their jobs if they won Powerball are smoking something bad. I also think I should win the 300 million jackpot! I know “you can’t win if you don’t play” so maybe I should play. I have a million ideas of what I would do with that kind of money, and none of them involve fancy cars, golden vases, artwork, or excessive material possessions. I’d love to travel the world with tutors for my kids and let them learn along the way. I’d like to live in Africa for a year and have my kids help build a school, or find really cool ways to help people and learn at the same time. I’d like to get a bunch of degrees I probably would never use, just for the fun of learning. OK, and I would buy a house with bedrooms bigger than jail cells, maybe big enough so that when the kids fight upstairs I couldn’t hear them downstairs. And a nanny/housekeeper, but not to actually watch the kids, because that’s the fun part. The nanny would have to change diapers, clean up puke, refaree fights, cook the meals, do the laundry, and do all the dirty un-fun and mundane work while I had the luxury of just having fun playing with my kids and making messses. Well, OK, the nanny could watch them at night so Chris and I could go out alone... We used to do that a long time ago. Oh, and she could definitely have the kids in the mornings while I slept in. I certainly wouldn’t mind handing over responsibility for the hectic morning school rush.
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7) Kids: I don’t "push" them although I’ve been accused of it by strangers often. Anybody who knows me knows I’m much too lazy to push them. Jordan did the science fair project that won him a scholarship to Space Camp because I was lazy. He was rolling dice over and over in the living room, and the noise was driving me crazy. He wanted me to record the outcomes, but the babies were screaming. I said “can’t you figure out how to do that on the computer?” and so he did, and after writing a program to generate random dice rolls, the project “Dice Roll Outcomes: A Comparison of Theoretical and Experimental Probability” was born. Mikailey taught herself to read on a Game Boy because I was lazy and bought it for her mostly to give myself a break from her questions. Jordan wanted to have a serious discussion about ahermatypic corals and zooanthellae tonight while telling me about his marine biology class. (Yes, I needed spell check to spell those words). I tried to listen and put on my best interested face. I wasn’t interested. Not even a little. I was, however, interested in his social experiences in 11th grade and it sounds as though all is going well. I DO try to support them in their pursuits, but honestly, I don’t push.
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8) In general I’m shy. No, that’s not the right word. I’m reserved. I share very little of myself. I just don’t do bull shitting or acquaintances very well. When I find a kindred spirit and I’m really comfortable with somebody though, I let it all hang out. I can be very serious and comtemplative, but also a total goof ball.

That about wraps up sharing time for tonight:-)

I'm Moving!!

2007-03-30T11:49:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I'm cranky today. Just in an all around disagreeable mood. Noah almost died in my arms yesterday AGAIN. Last time we thought it was a peanut allergy, but this time he was sick again and hadn't eaten or drank anything in hours. He went from hives, to getting an Epi injection from mom, to the hospital in 6 minutes flat, limp in my arms, and in need of more Epi and Benadryl injections to save him. They did chest x-rays because his breathing was so horrible. We were hoping for pnuemonia- that would have been better. No such luck, the anaphylaxis caused his chest, even after 4 injections, to sound like he had pneumonia for hours and then clear up almost instantly. Not good. The last reaction took 2 hours, this one just minutes. They get quicker and more severe each time. Get this. They think he has a weird type of "idiopathic anaphylaxis" - in essense, they think he's allergic to himself, to certian viruses or his own immune responses to them - the idiopathic part comes from not being able to identify a particular allergen other than "virus," as there are infinate varietites of viruses. Scary stuff - no way to predict it, no way to keep him away from it, and it can happen in the blink of an eye.
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I tend to go in to "Supermom" mode in crisis. In an emergency, I pride myself in my ability to stay calm, to get covered in blood from head or mouth wounds and comfort my kiddos without showing I'm scared, to bring kids in to various surgeries and hold them calmly while they get put under, to go to the neurosurgeon with Noah while they put him sleep to find out that his hydrocephalus was benign and wasn't going to kill him if he didn't get a shunt, or cause permanent brain damage, to take Dr.'s diagnoses of Asperger's, AD/HD, global developmental delays or possible autism and say "OK, what do we do to make the best of this?," and even to calmly run my limp baby past the triage nurse in to the ER, watch them save his life, and then try to calm him in the hospital hallway (we were in overflow) for 5 hours while he had a super-sized, adrenaline induced, Green Hulk tantrum next to a crazy guy restrained in his stretcher muttering swears at us, while I waited to make sure my Noah wouldn't have a second, potentially deadly "biphasic" reaction. Yup I stayed calm. But, then it all takes it's toll later and I get cranky. Stressed. Tired.
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I've always daydreamed of moving. ...Reno, where they have the perfect public school for Jordan and Mikailey, Orlando where we could get yearly passes to Disney World, New Mexico where it never snows and housing prices are cheap, Amsterdam, where we could ride goofy bicycles around town and be surrounded by friendly liberals with silly sounding accents, Greenwich Village, where fun entertainment, good resturants, and interesting people are right outside each door. This week I'm daydreaming of moving to a little town in Austria, where in my most foul mood, I wouldn't sound offensive. Here it is:

"Bitte- nicht so schnell!!"- translation: "slow down not so fast!!"

Tourist guides recommend you visit the small German town of Petting, about an hour a way, before going all the way to Fucking...makes sense to me:-)

Yup it's a real place:-) See where I'm going with this? Someone asks "Katie what have you been up to lately?" and I can answer honestly, and without even sounding rude, "Well I had to go to another meeting with the Fucking school district, and then take my kid to the Fucking hospital only to come come home to no room to park. I asked my Fucking neighbors for the seventh time to move over a bit to give me some room. Later in the night I did some errands, just the same old Fucking stuff I always do. I went to the Fucking grocery store, the Fucking pharmacy, and then the Fucking Walmart. But... you know, at the end of the a hard day Chris and I still love Fucking."
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See, this is a place where nobody could tell if I'm in a crabby belligerent mood, feeling a little mischievous, or just talking normally. I can see the benefits in that:-) BTW, the mayor will not "stand for the Fucking signs being removed!," after all, "Fucking is simply Fucking to us. What is the big Fucking joke?" he exclaimed. There are also no "Fucking Postcards" as the news article states, but I'd like one.. you know, to mail out to my friends after we settle in to our Fucking routine:-)

controlled chaos

2007-03-25T08:30:00.000-05:00

Cosmic Charley leading the great playpen escape!
"We've taken over the living room and now we have plenty of room to wrestle!"

"I've got my favorite pink purse, my plastic lipstick, a diaper, pictures, and I'm going on a road trip!"

"Take me seriuosly Mom, I don't understand why you always say I'm your little 'Drama Queen'! Abby stole my pretty purse again, the sky is falling, the sky is falling!!!"

"I'll show him not to go around purse snatching!! That purse is mine, mine, mine, mine!!"

I’ve been lazy and haven’t updated in a while. Life does that, distracts me from my personal endeavors, but that’s cool because livin’ life is usually more interesting than writing about it. A foot of snow just when we thought spring had sprung and condo neighbors who forgot to leave us the keys to the storage unit housing the snow blower (thereby trapping us in our icy parking lot last weekend), 1 fat split lip and trip to the ER, 3 fevers requiring pediatrician visits on separate days, 4 cases of the runs, 1 projectile vomiter, 1 dentist appointment, 1 excessively long camp scholarship application for Jordan (those competitive scholarship applications/competitions are WAY worse than college applications!) , 2 school meetings, a few Birth to Three visits, 4 kittens, with the orange one leading the coup, escaping from their former playpen home and prompting an entire living room make-over that includes a larger play yard home with a tiny litter box that is still unused (they think it’s a playground sandbox!) and careful placement of furniture to protect them from flying baby toys … uh, and a partridge in a pear tree … and poof, here I am, back in action again.

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As I write, I should note that the twinkies have been having an ongoing “pink purse” battle all morning, and the score is currently Noah:4, Abby:2. It must be because it isn’t one of their regular toys (just another thing Mikailey forgot to pick up) and there is only ONE of them. This is a big deal with twins. If there are two of the same toy, they want the one the other has so there is always at least a little bickering, but if there is only ONE of something, it usually instigates all sorts of extreme angry baby babbling and twinkie fighting. Both babies have learned the word "mine" and don't hesitate to use it often. Noah has the pretty pink purse right now, and has neatly packed up his talking cell phone, plastic lip stick, a diaper, and two plastic baseball card pictures of Jordan and Mikailey. Maybe he’s going to run away in his striped pajamas?? Abby, on the other hand, is taking her latest defeat in stride and is plotting how to show Noah who's boss by wearing the huge Red Sox finger and wagging it in his face. (By the way, for people who have seen tons of pictures of Noah - yes, he does actually own clothes and a wide variety of P.J.'s, but he's developed a very strong preference for his favorite goofy striped pajamas!! They remind me of something a little old man would wear while smoking a pipe in a Lazy Boy, but hey, I'm not one to bother arguing with the fashion sense of a 21 month old!) Oh, and for those of you who are wondering why I took pictures instead of intervening in the pint sized particularly pitiful pretty pink purse problem... I did. Again and again and again. But, they've eventually gotta learn to work it out amongst themselves because there will always be another single pink purse (or block, or doll, or car, or whatever) around every corner, and there will always be two of them! So if they aren't hitting or hair pulling, well then, the twinkies have to figure it out together because I can't rip everything in half!

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Hmmm, I know I started off with something to say, but the pink purse battle and breakfast dishes have completely distracted me…. I’ll have to finish at bedtime:-)

P.S. I recently saw a maternity t-shirt on ebay that says "Birth Control Is For Sissys." Even though Chris is fixed, I'm thinking of buying it just to scare people. C'mon, who dares me to wear the shirt out in public? I'll wait til the big kids are both fighting, have the twinkies skip their nap, and then take all 4 to the grocery store (you all know this is where kids are genetically programmed to behave their worst, especially when your trapped in the candy aisle trying to unload your cart, pack groceries, and pay!) ... imagine the looks of pure terror on strangers faces, picturing me with another one (or two, or three) on the way -it would be a hoot! I'll do it for a night of free baby-sitting!!

That's Just Wrong!!

2007-03-12T00:17:00.000-05:00

Jordan looking super cool in his rainbow umbrella hat. Definitely a picture to save for future dates.

Can ya guess what these two butterflies are doing?

Ummm, yeah, what Mikailey said. She was lucky enough to have two very rare "conjoined twin butterflies" land on her head. We could roll with that. No need to get in to the birds, the bees AND the butterflies right then and there.

Abby is like the boy from the old movie Parenthood with Steve Martin and Rick Moranis. In the movie Rick Moranis has a genius two year old while Steve Martin's two year old likes to eat sand and walk in to things with a bucket on his head. Abby digs buckets too, but during the winter it's just easier to grab a big hat and walk in to stuff for fun, especially when she still has spaghetti on her face!!

Who can blame poor Noah for being a "pouty pumpkin"? If he had words I'm sure he would have said "Why oh why would you put me in this ridiculous outfit??"

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This, my friends, is why I'm SO happy my mother never had a blog:-)

Coming Out of the Closet

2007-03-11T09:46:00.000-05:00

Not Waving But Drowning

Stevie Smith

Nobody heard him, the dead man,

But still he lay moaning:

I was much further out than you thought

And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking

And now he's dead

It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,

They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always

(Still the dead one lay moaning)

I was much too far out all my life

And not waving but drowning.

No, I'm not gay, but I've lived most of my life hiding in my own closet, or at least hiding big parts of myself, from the world, from everyone but Chris and my sister. I've shared lots of the "real me" with my best friend, but still I always feel like I'm never living an authentic life, never true to myself, always avoiding people to hide myself. So I'm coming out of the closet so to speak, one little step at a time.
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This is the poem I latched on to at about 12, and it continues to be my favorite poem. As a teenager, I didn't know how to wave, didn't have the words, would rather just drown. There is a lot more to that, a lot that doesn't need to be shared in a blog, and maybe will someday get shared wiith a select few as I continue to venture out in an attempt to make friends. As an adult, I avoid most people, I stay quiet, I put on my "normal" face. As a mother, I'm always trying to be strong for my children, have to be strong for my children, and I do. I honestly do protect them from my own internal struggles and depression, which is one of the few things I'm truly proud of. But still, there are so many days when I'm "not waving but drowning." It's probably partly due to pride - there are plenty of times where I'm not sure where to turn for help, but others when I could "wave" but believe I should be able to take care of everything on my own. This is especially true when I'm overwhelmed with my kids many unique needs. I'm a good mom. I know I'm a good mom, and somehow that leads me to delude myself in to believing that I should never need help. It's also partially due to fear. What would people think if they knew the "real" me, the me that still sometimes struggles with depression and the effects of my past (which I also don't share), the really weird me?
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The older I get the less I care what people think. If they don't like me, they don't like me. I'm an okay person - weird, but good hearted, good intentioned and not un-likable. What is there to lose? I intentionlly haven't made an effort to make friends, because I hate hiding myself and being fake and quite frankly, I suck at it anyway. People mistakenly think I'm authentic because I'm quirky, and the parts of myself that I do share are authentic, but they are just teeny tiny pieces of the real me. Maybe it's time to let the real me hang out, at least a little more than I have, with the people I'd like to get to know and be friends with, and maybe even with others, because what do I have to lose? I'm not all that sensitive these days. I doubt I'd really care if people I don't know rejected me. But there are so many good people out there, so many people I've avoided and haven't given a fair chance. So I'm going to make an effort to dip my toes in to test the water (not just in a silly blog, but in real life) because a couple of new not exactly friends/not exactly acquantiences have tempted me out of hiding. While I treasure my best friend in a way words can't even describe, two women have recently shown me that there are amazing, kind, brave, and interesting people out there that I've been missing out on for a long time. They've shown me that I want more - more friends, more connections, more people to learn from, more from life than just being a mom (although being a mom is great). So my new goal, which is probably a goal that I'm only going to accomplish in baby steps, is to start to "come out of my closet," get to know people, and let them get to know me, in an attempt to expand my world.

MY HERO

2007-03-09T08:35:00.000-05:00

House work is legacy for O'Neill granddaughter

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Late speaker's kin in charge of floor

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By Lois Romano, Washington Post February 3, 2007

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WASHINGTON -- Catlin O'Neill can't quite remember her first time on the House floor, a little girl in the large, comforting arms of her legendary "Pop-Pop." But it is not a stretch to say that today the doors of that grand chamber do not open without the grandchild of the late speaker Thomas P. "Tip" O'Neill.

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After the Democrats took back control of the House in January, new Speaker Nancy Pelosi put O'Neill, 29, in charge of floor operations, covering everything from regulating the temperature in the chamber to ensuring that there is always a Democrat in the speaker's chair.
"My job goes to the operating of government," O'Neill said. "If I step back, I know it's crucial that everything gets done."

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And then there is her unofficial and unsought role as keeper of the legacy. When Pelosi was agonizing over whether she should move out of Tip O'Neill's old Capitol office into the more elegant digs available to her, it was the late speaker's granddaughter who gave her a green light.
"It was sentimental, and Catlin said, 'It's OK, move the office. The family wants you in the speaker's office,' " Pelosi recalled this week. "That was important for me."

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O'Neill suspects that most lawmakers do not know her connection to the gregarious, larger-than-life Tip. Those old-timers who do, she says, always have a story to tell about one of the last unabashed liberals in politics.

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O'Neill is the daughter of Christopher "Kip" O'Neill -- Tip's fourth child and a Washington lobbyist -- and his wife, Stephanie. Catlin joined Pelosi's staff in 2002, after the California Democrat was elected minority whip. A few years ago she was promoted to floor assistant, a coveted position in the Hill hierarchy because it puts an aide in close proximity to legislators. Sometimes O'Neill is called upon to advise a freshman how to make his or her first floor remarks.

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She was born in 1977, the year Tip O'Neill was sworn in as speaker. Her grandfather, one of the most prominent liberal Democrats of modern times, reigned as speaker until he retired in 1987, making him the second-longest-serving speaker in US history, after Sam Rayburn.
Catlin has only sketchy memories of that historic period. "I used to raid the supply cabinet," she confessed about her frequent visits to the Hill.

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She does recall with much clarity, however, her grandfather eloquently reciting "Paul Revere's Ride" for her third-grade class, and then asking the students to identify the poem. None could. "Catlin, you must know this," he finally implored."I was humiliated," she said, laughing.

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O'Neill says the first time she realized the import of her grandfather's life was at his 1994 funeral. She was 16: "Women at the newsstand were crying, helicopters were flying overhead, people were protesting. . . . It was surreal."

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She says she doesn't dwell on her family history. "Anyone would want to live up to a namesake, not to do anything that would cast a shadow over the memory," she said. "But at the same time, you want to be recognized as your own person."

Catlin O'Neill is my current hero. She's only 29 and she's changing the world:-)

I spent my early summers living in the house next to her on the Cape. Her sister Abby was the spunky kid I was referring to when I said I named my Abby after a childhood friend. As a child, I can best describe her as pensive, sensitive, thoughtful, quiet, and fun. She was always the mediator, the peace-maker when Abby and I bickered. She was always giving of herself, and loved making those around her happy. This is no "claim to fame by association," because I haven't seen her or spoken to her in over 15 years. I'm just super proud of her!!!!!

As a child, summers were always my favorite time of year. My father was in CT working all week and didn't make it to the Cape every weekend, so everything was more relaxed. I lived next to two great friends whose house was so close we would talk to each other from our open bedroom windows at night. We lived in a tiny safe little town where we could walk to the movie theatre, candy store, or George's Pizza alone by 8, and I spent all of my days at the beach, playing in the ocean or pool, collecting shells to paint (with no great skill) and sell, or walking along a beautiful jeddi with a light house at the end, trying to fish, jump off it, or just sit and talk while the waves splashed over us.

I had no idea how important Tip O'Neill was, or how important Catlin and Abby's father Kip or his brothers were. I just knew Catlin and Abby's "PopPop" would scoop me up in his lap along with his grandkids and belly laugh while we all messed around in his pool. I knew that Kip and Stephanie were kind and generous. They would tuck me in with their own kids when I spent the night, let me tag along on all the outings they probably hadn't exactly invited me, to or Catlin and Abby talked them in to bringing me to, ..the Red Sox games in the BOX seats (who gets to do that?), the Boston Children's Museum (where I've made a point of bringing my own kids at least once a year because I remember loving it so much) dinners, boat trips, parties. It wasn't all the things they did for me that made me love them so much as a kid, it was who they were. I knew them from the perspective of a child's eyes, as people, not political figures, and you know how kids have a talent for seeing right through people! They were a kind, unpretentious, thoughtful, generous, gentle and fun family.

I don't know Catlin anymore, but I know what I remember of her and her family. And even though she doesn't know me anymore, I know she's out there representing me, my friends, the people who need representation the most, and of course the Democrats. I know she has great values, that she was raised to have integrity and care about the plight of those who are less fortunate than many of us, and that she's got her head screwed on straight when so many people in Washington seem certifiably insane right now. I wish she would run for president some day:-)

Anyway, all I have to say is: GO CATLIN!!!!

Today's quote

2007-03-06T18:43:00.000-05:00

"All that is necessary for evil to succeed is that good men do nothing." Edmund Burke

Why I told Wesleyan to shove it

2007-03-06T08:57:00.000-05:00

Wesleyan isn't as diverse and weird as it seems

This is my slightly annoyed and opinionated response to the March 6, 2007 Hartford Courant article Students Want Wesleyan To Keep The Weirdness By Daniella Altamari.

http://www.courant.com/news/local/hc-2keepwesweird0306.artmar06,0,5474245.story?track=rss

Wesleyan is supposed to be cool right? All about diversity, gay rights, individual expression, and rigorous academics. I hate reading about Wesleyan's diversity, their "weirdness," and their supposed "open-mindedness" to all things different. uuugh I read this article today, and wanted to share my own Wesleyan experience.

Background: I was a "troubled teenager." Without getting in to all the personal details of my life story, I'll just say that I spent time in the "system" - institutions, residential facilities, group homes, teenage homeless shelters (by choice) etc.. I finished a grand total of 7 days of 9th grade, and if memory serves me correctly, I think those 7 days might have been at 7 different places. I was moved about quite frequently, but even when I was in one place for a decent amount of time, I had absolutely no interest in high school, high school culture, forced regurgitation of facts I didn't want to know, or superficial popularity bullshit. I taught myself, unintentionally. I just read. Not what people told me to read, but what I wanted to read. And I wrote. Not essays on the history of the civil war, but what ever I felt like writing. And the more I read and wrote, the more I realized how much I didn't know, so I ventured in to areas I initially found less interesting, in order to more fully understand the things I did find interesting. I loved psychology and sociology, so I taught myself algebra and statistics so I could understand what the research articles I was reading really meant. I taught myself biology, chemistry, and physics so I could better understand the brain. There was no plan, I just liked learning, burrying myself in books, probably to escape life.

Anyway, when I was 16 and had absolutely no high school credit (and therefore wouldn't graduate until 20 if I went back to regular school!), my father had recently committed suicide, and everyone realized that nothing in the world would convince me to wander high school hallways like a drone, I was granted special permission to take the GED test early. At the time it was a two day test and I was told to study for it. So I did... I got stoned both nights, slept late, and made it to the test in my PJ's both afternoons, 10 minutes late both times. I got a perfect score though:-) Getting a perfect GED score isn't actually something to shout on the roof-tops about, but I felt like I had proven my point. I didn't, and had never, needed to walk those mean hallways and sit in those boring classes, getting stared at or made fun of for looking and being different. (I always tend to look "different," unintentionally, because I just can't fake who I am).

So I eventually took my first college course at MCC, continued to live life exactly the way I wanted to, and had a wonderful time with my partner Chris. We had so much fun in those early years, in different apartments, going where ever we wanted when ever we wanted. Coffee in Greenwich Village at 3 am, sure lets drive there! Boston, the beach at midnight, a cool resturant in New Haven? Sure, why not? He was a bar-tender at a popular club in those days, and only had to work 3 nights a week to make almost what he makes now (without insurance or benefits, but we didn't need those back then). We even spent a summer secretly living on his father's un-used, docked boat. We wandered the shore together, hand in hand, at 4 in the morning after he got out of work, slept all day, sun-bathed on the boat deck, used the "club facilities" as if we belonged there, talked endlessly about life and love. We also concieved Jordan there:-)

When Jordan was three and I had a grand total of 7 MCC classes completed, I applied to Wesleyan and Trinity, with no high school transcripts, a few Community College classes, but really strong SAT and ACT scores, great recommendation letters, and heartfelt essays. At Trinity, I applied to the adult IDP program, a special flexible program for adults that allows them to complete their degree at their own pace. Wesleyan had no such program, so I just applied as a regular student. At Trinity, I was interviewed by "the IDP committee," a very uptight looking group of 7 faculty and administrators seated around a larger than life table, with me at the front. At Wesleyan, I had to be interviewed by the Dean of Admissions (as opposed to just a regular admissions person) because I was a "different," non-traditional adult student. I showed up to both interviews in the same outfit, my version of "dress up clothes" at the time - a beautiful hand-made swirly tye-dyeish dress I picked up at one of the last Dead concerts (that thing lasted forever, thanks to the hippie who hand sewed it), and a hand-made wool knit sweater, with Birkenstocks on and my dreadlocks tied back.

Now let's back track a little. When I started the application process, paid the fees, and submitted my applications, they of course didn't include all the "normal" material. Trinity called me and asked me to explain the situation, and then took it in stride. The person in the admissions department at Wesleyan laughed at me, saying something like "You're applying to Wesleyan with no high school transcript, a GED, and 7 community college courses? Have you even researched this school, do you know how selective we are?" I just asked that she process my application and schedule an interview anyway.

I toured both schools. Trinity was annoying, up-tight, mostly Republican, preppy, and just not "me." Wesleyan was "me" - full of hippies, gays, liberals, opinionated people, think-outside-the-box people. So anyway, lets go back to those interviews. At Trinity, I sat uncomfortably at the head of the table of intimidating people, answered their questions as honestly as I could and left feeling like I didn't have a chance. At Wesleyan the Dean clearly liked me, relaxed in his chair, spoke casually with swears mixed in with his words, and eventually decided to take a walk around campus with me while we spoke. We talked politics, life, philosophy, and even about our children. He told me I was in. Then he said something that I will never forget. He looked at me and said "I know I can talk them in to admitting you even though you're older and you won't live on campus, because you look young enough to fit in, you look like you belong here."

Wesleyan has no program for adults going back to school, they have no system in place to support people who haven't followed the typical academic path. In fact, when I asked the Dean, he informed me that they had only 3 other adult students, all of them single, without children, and living in the dorms, and that I would be the only "mother" and non-traditional student living off campus. So I was being accepted partially based on my academic merits, but what sealed the deal, the real clincher, was that I also had the "right look," the "different like everyone else on campus" look. Had I been the same me dressed like a typical housewife, I doubt I would have been accepted, whereas Trinity accepted me despite the fact that I was the only weird looking one on campus. (That's not an exaggeration, by the way. When I first started, I really was, although that's changed some over the years.)

So, where is the diversity at Wesleyan? Where's the weirdness? It's full of ONE kind of weirdness, one kind of diversity- the hippie, liberal, gay-friendly, Democrat, or at the very least, non-mainstream, kind of diversity. If you have the academic ability AND the right look, the right political beliefs, the right sexual orientation, or the right "weirdness" then you fit. But.... where is the room for healthy political debate in a school full of Democrats? Where can you open up minds about how people percieve the gay community if it's a given that everyone there thinks the same about the topic? And about diversity, where are the adult students, the people who followed a different path, the young parents with potential, the people who joined the Peace Corps or only decided to go to college after walking around India for few years or something?

Sooo, I didn't just sent back the form saying I was opting not to attend despite the full scholarhip they had granted me. I called the same lady who laughed at me, told her I had been accepted but was rejecting the offer because I wasn't happy with the school. (That was just my little "who's laughing now" moment!) Then I took my beat up, old, flower painted, sticker clad car, and drove my dread-locked, tye-dyed, weird self right to Trinity, the land of the Lexus, Izod shirts (did you even know those existed anymore?) Prada bags, and girls who whined that their fathers hadn't put 10K in their "miscelaneous spending accounts" or taken them to the Alps over winter break.

I got stares and whispers while I sat in class because of my "look." Because I didn't look much older than the average student at the time, I got hushed suprised mumbles when everyone in Child Psychology was talking theoretically and I raised my hand to talk about my own experience as a parent ("like Ooooh MY Gawd, she has a KID?? - insert valley girl inflection). I got raised eyebrows when I spoke from a different perspective (uh, the poor one, lol) in sociology courses. In a place where people were often judged by the name brand of their clothes or handbags, or their weight and hair, where anorexia was all too often openly promoted as a "life-style choice," instead of a disorder, and girls regularly made themselves throw up in the public restrooms, what could be more fun than showing up in hand sewn patchy hippie pants, or better yet, sweat pants, with a donut in my hand? I just wanted to scream "You don't HAVE to be as skinny as a stick to be OK!!" and although I never actually screamed it, I did get the chance to say it to girls I got to know. I had a blast taking the half semester course "fitness 101" when I was 4-6 months pregnant with Mikailey, with all the 100 pound girls looking at me in horror and whispering (I honestly don't think they ever figured out I was pregnant... I think they just assumed the daily work-outs weren't doing me much good:-) After I got straight A's for a few semesters, the professors took notice, making me their research assistant, their TA, and eventually the "presidential scholar" for the psychology department who got to go to monthly meetings with the college President and represent the psychology department (despite the fact that I don't think I represented the view of the average psychology major, but probably the more liberal political and academic views of the very cool professors). I was in a foreign land, a land I had never seen or experienced before, but eventually I was accepted for who I was despite being "different," not because I was different like everybody else.

So if Wesleyan is so weird, SOOO diverse, where are the different people- as in the people who are different from 99% of their student population? If stuck-up, up-tight, Republican, rich-kid-land, Trinity can accept a hippie mom who never went to high school, can Wesleyan accept an Izod wearing, straight laced Republican, "handed everything on a silver platter," rich kid?? Their is no room for healthy debate, changing stereotypes, or dispelling myths in a place that only has one type of people - even if the people are all different from the main stream. Wesleyan is a haven for like minded people. Trinity still has racial relation problems, a GLBT community that isn't fully supported, a lot of kids who grew up a certain way with certain priviliges that most of the world doesn't have (leading to their somewhat limited view of the world, and Hartford in particular), and a few Democrats mixed in with a lot of Republicans. But still, they are more diverse, in my opinion, and more of a reflection of the real world. The real word isn't a haven for like-minded people, it's a diverse world full of different opinions, where we have to fight, debate, and advocate for what we believe is right. So, no, I didn't do anything huge to change the world in my adult college decision, but I do think I opened a few eyes, made a few people think, and re-examine their stereotypes and prejudices, whereas at Wesleyan I would have fallen in with the crowd, never been noticed, and never made a mark.

So that's the long story of why I told Wesleyan where to shove it, and why it annoys me when they are lauded for being so diverse and open-minded.

Lucky

2007-03-02T10:04:00.000-05:00

This little girl in the last picture is "Tails"

**I'm a ROCK STAR**

I'm not normally one to brag. The fact is, I haven't done that many cool things in my life. I haven't done much to "save the world" (although I have lots of ideas!!) and almost all the things I imagined myself accomplishing by 30 have gotten lost somewhere along the way - but I LOVE raising my kids, so that's all OK. Anyway, last week I was a ROCK STAR! Nope, no joke.

About 9 weeks ago a very emaciated, sickly looking, flea infested cat (could it have been the warm winter keeping those little buggers alive?) adopted us by hanging out on our deck, swishing between our legs, and winning our hearts. We took her in, de-fleaed her, bathed her a million times... she even had a lollipop stick stuck in her fur!! We named her Lucky because we felt pretty lucky that she chose us. She is absolutely the sweetest, most gentle and laid back cat I've ever met. She's just the addition our family needed:-)

Well.... when we went to see the vet, it turned out that Lucky had already gotten "lucky" with a tom cat and was pregnant. I didn't think there was much hope. She was soooo skinny. But, we fed her the premium over-priced food, gave her vitamins, and supplemental kitten formula to help with milk production. (Did you know that stuff costs more than real baby formula?)

When labor time came along over Feb. vacation, there was a problem. If a kitten has a broken sac or is lodged in the birth canal for more than 10 minutes, it's at risk of dieing. The first kitten had a broken sac and her tail was cold and hanging out of the birth canal for more than 40 minutes!! I thought for sure she was dead. Since I was in the bedroom doing Lamaze breathing with Lucky in her nest, I called Chris for internet tech support. Following his directions, I waited for a good contraction, and then used sterile gauze to "grasp, rotate, and pull in the direction of Lucky's hind legs." After successfully pulling the kitten out by her tail, and realizing she was cold and still, I then roughed her up with a washcloth, sucked the fluid out of her nose and mouth using a baby sucker, and even breathed little breaths in to her face and gently pushed on her chest. I did "kitty CPR" and it worked!! She started breathing and crying in a few minutes!! Her name, of course, is Tails.

The next two came uneventfully, with just a little help from me, but by the last one, our teenage mother cat was tired and her mothering instincts still weren't fully developed because she's so young. She just popped out number four, the orange boy, and left him alone in his sac. I got him out, roughed him up a little, and then convinced Lucky to finish her job. It's been a week now, and Lucky has learned to be a great mother after much tutoring (For example, we had to lead her back to the nest repeatedly to nurse because she felt like going outside to play once she was "lighter" and able to run again!) All four kittens are thriving and have doubled their birth weight. It looks like they are all going to make it:-)

So yeah, there was a time before kids when I wanted to go to medical school. But I got to play animal obstetrician and do CPR on a 4 oz. kitten in front of my kids. How cool is that? For me - much cooler than going to med school and probably missing out on having kids, or getting to spend very little time with them. I was just looking at our thriving little bundle of kittens and thinking about my kids, and I realized (again) that I didn't give up any of my dreams by having children early. I just changed my dreams. I'm not missing out on anything. Sometimes I get down and think I'm not living the life I once imagined for myself, but then little things remind me that at 18 I could never have imagined how much my family would mean to me, and how much joy my children would bring to my life. That doesn't mean I won't continue to pursue my own educational and career dreams in the future, when my twinkies get older and go to kindergarten. But... it does mean that I'm happy right now to be a stay at home mom and a kitty saving rock star:-)

Abigail Elizabeth

2007-02-28T11:00:00.000-05:00

The last picture is of me at Abby's age. I like to think she looks a little like me. If you don't agree, don't rain on my parade OK:-)

-

When you have more than 2 kids things can start to get confusing and sometimes it feels like they’re getting lost in the shuffle. The other day at Walgreens I was picking up prescriptions for our entire family of 6, and I felt like I was taking a quiz as the pharmacist systematically asked me the birth date of each family member! With twins especially, it always feels like I'm juggling their needs. One question people always seem to ask me about the twins is, “Which one is your favorite?” I can’t tell you how much this annoys me. Usually I blow people off with a quick, “which ever one is being quiet at the moment!" People will push even further, insisting that I must have a favorite. How can they not understand that they are ALL my favorite, all four of my children, each for different reasons? Each child is unique, special- a gift I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to raise and love until they are ready to venture out on their own. Anyway, this is just about Abigail Elizabeth.

Honestly, I love that she has my coloring and looks a little like me, after Chris’ dominant genes gave us 3 mostly bald blondish babies. She’s worried me since she was just a fetus, always measuring smaller than Noah, requiring multiple visits to the perinatologist and constant monitoring. She was my tiny baby, at just over 4 pounds, and she seemed so fragile. Her cheeks were sunken in, and her tiny fingers looked like they might break when I would put her in the preemie clothes that had to be rolled up multiple times in every direction. I named her after my childhood friend Abby, who had irresistible chubby cheeks all throughout childhood, an infectious laugh, and a mischievous, enthusiastic, and fun personality. But my Abby has always been calm, serene, and almost aloof at times. Even on the ultrasounds, she was always peacefully hanging out while Mr. Noah was going wild, flipping around, and yanking on his umbilical cord. She kicked so infrequently that I would often poke her to make sure she was still OK in there!

As people who know me already know, Abby is severely delayed in all areas. She’s not showing clear signs of full fledged autism, but an autistic spectrum disorder can’t be ruled out. As an infant, she would rarely look at me and preferred to spend hours on end staring at the ceiling or her toes rather than playing with Noah or me. She almost never cried, and unfortunately she also almost never smiled. When she did, it was rarely at a person. We got about 2 good belly laughs out of her before her first birthday, both for Jordan who seems to know how to enter her world in a way we don’t. When she cried, she would always rather be alone and would arch her back as if my comforting her actually hurt her worse. It broke my heart – I just wanted to rock my baby, look in her eyes, and help her feel better. She looks at me now, cuddles, and interacts in her own way. But I still wish she would say “mommy” and reserve the word just for me, to show me that she really knows who I am. She does say “mommy” but it’s not a name: it the word for me, but also the general word for anything she wants or needs at the time.

-
One thing people often ask me is how it feels to have a child who is so cognitively delayed when our two older children are gifted. I guess it’s a valid question, and I know the people who ask don’t mean any harm. It’s just… why would I feel any different? She’s my baby, plain and simple. My love for my children isn’t dependant on what they can “do.” It’s just a mother’s unconditional love. The other comment that stings is when people try to console me in an awkward way by saying something along the lines of "well at least your older two are really smart," as if they are a group, not individuals, and one can balance out the other. That's almost like saying "don't worry that Johnny is missing his legs because your son Jack is an Olympic runner" - it makes no sense. I worry like any parent would, about her future, about what pain may lie ahead for her, but I don’t think it hurts me more than it would hurt a parent of older kids with “average” intelligence. I also don't think it hurts any less just because my other kids have certain strengths. Abby's got her own unique set of special needs, and we’ll help her deal with them as much as we can. But could I be disappointed because she isn’t “gifted” like her siblings? Absolutely not! She’s my baby! She doesn’t have to “be” or “do” anything to earn my love, she had my heart the day I saw that positive pregnancy test! In my eyes, she's perfect exactly the way she is.

So what’s special about Ms. Abby Dabby Doo? What makes her different from the group? For one, she’s a watcher. She doesn’t let you know it, but she’s watching everything. She takes on the world on her own terms, in her own time. She watches and watches and waits to do things until she’s sure. Unlike Noah who walked at 10 months and spent a good 6 months after that with his big head covered in bruises from falling, believing he could run when he could just barely take a step without tripping on dust, Abby just patiently watched. At 16 months, when she was good and ready, she carefully took her first steps. Maybe that’s not so “slow” after all, because when she started walking she never went around with lumps on her head from falling! She’s also unique in our family because she’s serene. In a house full of kids who act first and think later, she’s the only one who calmly observes. When the stimulation is too much, she reverts to typically autistic behaviors, tuning the overwhelming world out. But when the stimulation is just enough, you can get her attention and she’s fully there with you. The other kids are always in six different places at once, in their minds if not physically. When she smiles, she means it. She’ll make you work really hard for one, but when you earn a grin from her it feels like winning a gold medal! The same goes for hugs and snuggles. Somehow they mean so much more from the girl who once wouldn’t let me cuddle her when she cried, who wouldn’t look at me. She also has my temperament, in her own unique way. Unlike the other kids who don’t hesitate to voice their complaints, Abigail is laid back and easy going. It takes a LOT to make her mad, but when she’s finally had enough, there’s no mistaking it! In many ways, she’s “my baby,” more like me than any of my other kids, and in many ways she’s very different from all of us. She’s taught our older kids a lot of important lessons about appreciating differences, and loving people for who and what they are in the moment. The big kids know she’s delayed and they try to help her, but they don’t try to change her and they are very protective and proud of her. When she does something new, like use the sign for "more" they cheer her on like she's a rock star! They love her just the way she is, and maybe that will serve them well later in life. Finally, Abby’s chubbed up and got the most irresistible chubby cheeks, just like the Abby I thought of when I named her (maybe the cheeks come with the name?)

When I think about what her future might hold, what challenges she might face, I can’t help but cry or feel overwhelmed. There are so many questions - Will she start talking soon, will she learn to read, will she ever live on her own? But there’s no point in dwelling on “what if’s” with my kids. The future is too unpredictable for each of them. For Abby, it has to be about the here and now, about helping her in every way we can, but still cherishing who she is and savoring every moment with this unique little girl. It’s about tempting her to enter our world, and trying to connect with her in her own world, on her terms. It’s about appreciating and celebrating the little victories and accomplishments, which are just as big and important as the older kids’ more obvious accomplishments. Since the twins are definitely our last, part of me appreciates the fact that she’s still like a large infant. That’s probably bad for her, I know, but she’s given me the chance to experience more of infancy than I ever got to with my big kids, who raced ahead so fast that I felt like they were grown up in the blink of an eye. I don’t know what lies ahead for her, but for right now, she’s my peaceful, chubby, little cherub. She’s my baby, my “mama’s girl,” even if she doesn’t know my name yet.

Smile

2007-02-27T20:54:00.000-05:00

If you need to smile, watch this video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_ARBWKpfA4

There's nothing like laughing babies to brighten your day, although I've gotta say, at least half of why it makes me laugh every time I watch it is because all I can think is, "Thank GOD I only had two babies at once instead of four!"

Hope In a Window

2007-02-26T21:30:00.003-05:00

My Wish

Rascal Flatts

I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow

And each road leads you where you want to go

And if you’re faced with the choice and you have to choose

I hope you choose the one that means the most to you

And if one door opens to another door closed

I hope you keep on walkin’ ‘til you find the window

If it’s cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile

But more than anything, more than anything

My wish for you

Is that this life becomes all that you want it to

Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small

You never need to carry more than you can hold

And while you’re out there gettin’ where you’re gettin’ to

I hope you know somebody loves you

And wants the same things too

Yeah, this is my wish

I hope you never look back but you never forget

All the ones who love you

And the place you left

I hope you always forgive and you never regret

And you help somebody every chance you get

Oh, you find God’s grace in every mistake

And always give more than you take

But more than anything, yeah more than anything

This is my wish

I hope you know somebody loves you

May all your dreams stay big

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xz32I_GbpeU&feature=related

At first, I didn't like the location of our new home. The neighborhood is dreary, depleted, almost whimpering that it's tired and ready to give up. It's sad at times, with all the poverty, restlessness, addiction, and hopelessness surrounding us. But right across the street, there is a boarded up factory. From the ground, it looks downright ugly and pitiful, with grafitti on the walls and garbage scattered about. From the top of our driveway across the street though, the view is different, hopeful, comforting. From my viewpoint, especially on a difficult day, the building stands bright and tall, with it's worn red brick beaming at me - like a warm beacon showing me the way home through a sea of tears. Most importantly, among the rows and rows of boarded up windows there is one open window in the center of the top row. It reflects the sunlight beautifully. I can't figure it out - why is it open when all the others are closed? I wonder if the people who boarded up the windows did it for a reason, to leave behind a little glimpse of what once must have been a thriving area? More likely, it was done without much thought, probably not even as much thought as I've given it. I wonder if anyone else in the neighborhood notices it, sees its beauty, draws strength from it? I've learned to love our new home, our new neighborhood. Over time, I've learned to remember to see the good surrounding us.

It may seem silly, but to me that open window is hope right there on a brick wall. When I look at it, it reminds me of the Rascal Flatts' song My Wish, and it reminds me that things aren't always as dismal as they appear at first glance. There are so many times with my children when I feel like I'm running in to brick walls at every turn, when I don't know how to help them, don't know where to turn or how to guide them. But right outside my window, in my dreary little neighborhood, is my daily reminder that there is always a way. And ironically, my little reminder is on a brick wall:-) Maybe sometimes when I run in to one of those brick walls I just need step back and look at it from a different perspective? It may not be obvious, or easy to get to, and it may be in a place where we would least expect to find it - but there IS hope. There IS an open window, even when all the other doors and windows are closed. I have to believe that. For my children- somewhere, somehow- there will always be an open window.

Yes, the song is a cheesy country song, certainly not the type of music I usually listen to. But, it's officially "our song," our family song, the one my big kids sing along to loudly in the car, and the one that I've taken to singing (horribly) to my babies at night. This is my wish for them - no matter where they are, and no matter what they do, when it's time for them to find their own way in the world, I hope that on even their darkest days they remember to look for that open window. I hope they hold on tightly to their big dreams, follow the good in their hearts, and most of all, I hope they always, always, know somebody loves them.

Full

2006-03-09T12:28:00.000-05:00

It's all about the minivan.

Every time I've gone out since my twinkies were born in June people have watched me push around the over-sized monster bus stroller that I use to transport them, and commented, "boy, you've got your hands full." Yup. My hands are full, my heart is full, my house is full, and last but not least, my minivan is full.

First I had the fun car that always broke down. It was a Ford Escort I bought when I was 17 and it just kept going and going (OK, going and breaking and going). It had Grateful Dead stickers, Deady bears, political bumber stickers and peace signs and flowers hand painted all over it. Jordan, our 9 year old, traveled a lot with us in that car. We took him to Greenwich Village, Boston, weird out of the way restaurants where we could find the best falafel around... and then to preschool and even kindergarten. That was back when I wore my hair in dreadlocks, lived in tye-dyes, and thought it would be fun to move to Amsterdam. I swore I'd never ever get a minivan.

Mikailey, our 5 year old, was born when Jordan was 3. When Jordan was 5 and Mikailey 2, the Escort finally died.... in the middle of a busy intersection. It was an eye-sore anyway. The apartment manager told me so. So we bought a Hyundai. Not cool, not fun. But it was affordable, reliable, and really, it's so much easier to get two little ones in to their safety seats when you've got four doors. I stuck little Deady Bear stickers on the back window, just for old times sake. Just a few years later, our growing family wasn't fitting in the Hyundai. The kids' friends couldn't fit in the back seat. Our stuff didn't fit when we wanted to go away. We went out looking for something bigger. We couldn't afford a SUV anyway, and those sliding doors on the minivans were starting to look good. We got a deal and bought a Caravan. The same one every mother in the school pickup line drives. The plain blue, oversized, grocery getter. sigh. Leaving the dealership, Chris and I looked at the empty third row seats and joked, "We have extra room for a carseat now, maybe we should have another baby."

Two weeks and one day later, our Clear Blue Easy had two blue lines. So I ran to Walgreens, came home with a bag of pregnancy tests, and guess what? The EPT had two pink lines, the digital one said "pregnant" and and the generic test had a big purple + sign. There was no doubt about it, our van would soon have another carseat! Not long after, we saw two healthy heartbeats on my ultrasound. After the color returned to Chris' face, and he recovered from almost dropping Mikailey on the floor, we began the process doubling our number of children. Two cribs, two bouncers, two swings, two exersaucers, two high chairs, two wardrobes, and (of course) two carseats in the minivan later... we thought we were ready. We had no idea we'd never be ready for our children to be squared (as Jordan puts it)!

Abigail got her name because I've always loved that name and it reminded me of a childhood friend. Jordan and Mikailey named Noah because he came "two by two" and they thought it was a fitting name. The twinkies are 9 months old now and I'm still not ready, but I'm sure glad we got that minivan :-) I haven't had the time to put any fun stickers on it yet (unless you count the Puffs and Skittles stuck to the upholstery). My hands are full!

Every time Chris and I are overwhelmed, either by lack of sleep, by the insane noise level, or more often, by the complete sense of awe and joy our four munchkins inspire in us, we always look at each other and joke... it was the minivan that did it :-)