Spring Awakening

So, there's something I've been keeping from you. 

Mostly because I would rather you love me than hate me. 

And, if you're a parent, my secret is definitely something that would make you hate me.

It started last fall. Around November-ish. We were staying at my parents quite a bit during that time and got into this strange schedule where the girls kept getting to sleep later and later -- and subsequently started waking later and later. 

We were eventually to the point where they were going to bed around 11 p.m. and sleeping until 11:30 or noon. Eating breakfast when everyone else was eating lunch, eating lunch when everyone else was eating snack and napping from about 4:30-6:30. 

It was a crazy life we were living. But it worked for us. By the time they were waking up in the "morning," we had nearly eight hours of work done. 

But, alas. Spring has come, and my little hibernating bears have crawled out of their caves.

  

This past week, we have gone to bed at a fairly consistent time, but each day they woke up about 15 minutes earlier than the day before. This morning it was 9:45. So, so early compared to our winter schedule. 

As I'm writing this, complaining about the early hour of 9:45, it occurs to me that you actually probably still hate me. 

Maybe I'll just shut up now. 

Yes, Mama

While we were working on the house, we stayed with my parents. We didn't want to move all of our stuff in before we painted and put down new carpet, so we had a really extended sleepover. 

At my parents house, the girls each slept in their own playpen. And yes, if you're wondering, they are just about to be too long for that to work anymore. 

In some ways, it's nice. They sit right next to each other, talking before they fall asleep or first thing in the morning. 

In other ways, though, it's become a bit of a problem. 

We put them to bed, said our goodnights and headed out the door. A few minutes later, Grace started crying. Then the crying turned to screaming and the screaming turned into "MOTHER, GET IN HERE RIGHT THIS MINUTE!" 

I opened the door -- it was pitch black -- went over to Grace's bed and bent over to pick her up. Lifted her up and realized the baby I was holding wasn't Grace. 

"Claire, did you get into Grace's bed?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Were you kicking her?" 

"Yes, Mama." 

"Do you think you should get back in your bed?" 

"Yes, Mama."

Homecoming

So, we bought a house at the end of February. 

I haven't had a chance to share the news with you because of work and life and the havoc that buying the house has caused on my sleep schedule. 

After a six-month search, many houses seen, and a few snatched from us, we stumbled upon this beauty. 

She has character. She has enough space for our current family and any potential expansions. She brings with her a fun backyard that I immediately envisioned the girls playing in. And she's close to everything -- no more 20-minute drives just to get to the store. 

In short, we love her. 

But she was a bit outdated. She was an older lady who never changed her hairstyle and still wore gaudy floral wallpaper. 

So, since we closed the deal, we have been giving her a makeover. New paint, new carpets, new flooring. And although she is really starting to shine, the process has taken its toll on Scott and I, who get up every morning at 4 a.m., the girls who are being lugged back and forth multiple times a day between the new house and Grandma's and my poor, poor family -- who has been doing the bulk of the work. They have been fantastic. While I sat at Grandma's, working and waiting for the girls to wake up from nap, they were building walls, ripping out carpet and working their tails off.  I couldn't be more grateful for them. 

Aside from March's Maddening Makeover, we are so completely excited to move in. The house will be great, the neighborhood is great, but most of all, we're excited to move home. Although this isn't Scott's official hometown, there's something about it that makes it feel like coming home. 

There's a beauty and an energy to this town that you don't find elsewhere. That's something I didn't fully understand until after I moved away. I've lived in bigger cities and smaller cities, but nothing has ever felt as right as this city. And I can't wait to raise my girls here. 

Still to come: Keep your eyes peeled for the full home makeover post with before and after pictures. A sneak preview: we ditched this railing and thanks to my brother, replaced it with a true work of art.   

Swirls

Lately my mind has been a piece of abstract art. Full of splatters, swirls, swooshes. Sometimes brightly colored. Sometimes in shades of gray. Sometimes pretty. Sometimes confusing. 

This is my attempt to share the artwork with you. It's on the long side. So feel free to read it in chapters. Or not at all. Up to you!

On growing up…

Every day, and lately multiple times a day, I look at my girls and it feels like someone punched me in the stomach. The best punch in the gut you could ever imagine. I watch their interactions, their flaws, their strengths and can't help but wish I could just slow time a bit. Claire has started this new thing where she says "like baby" and then she hands me a bottle and wants me to feed her "like baby." Or rock her "like baby." I gladly pretend that she is a baby because I know the days when I can hold her and rock her like a baby are numbered. Yesterday after a few seconds of rocking her, she said "No baby. Like big girl." 

On being different … 

We've been on a few outings lately where strangers will say, "are they twins?"

I can't really blame them. Other than being nearly the same height and having red hair, they are such different little girls. They look so different -- Grace with her blue eyes, strawberry-blonde, curly-sue hair and Claire with her chocolate brown eyes, straight-as-a-rail auburn hair. But the differences don't end there. For example, the other day when I gave Claire a full banana (normally, I cut it into chunks), she looked at it, and took a bite right off the end. When I handed Grace hers, she looked at it, turned it on its side and ate it like it was corn on the cob.

I love how different they are. From very early on -- 6 or 7 months old -- I noticed that Grace read her books upside down, and I knew she was going to look at the world in her own unique way. She will be a great problem solver some day. She will take a problem that makes the rest of us bang our heads on the wall and she will flip it on its side and immediately find a solution. And naturally, Claire is different. She sees the world in much the same way that I imagine most of us do. But this girl's intelligence astonishes me every day. She will grow up, see what's already established and push it beyond anyone's wildest dreams. I give her another few years before she's smarter than me. 

On parenting twins …

As they grow older, I have decided that in a lot of ways, having two the same age actually makes life easier than I imagine it is for parents of singles. I don't really know, of course, but I was pretty sure that when I was waking up in the middle of the night to feed one, feed the other and then go pump (it was like having triplets), that I had it worse. Now, though, I think I've got it easier. They play together, sleep at the same time for the same length of time and learn from each other. I do have a story though that debunks my theory. We were eating at a restaurant the other day, when I took both girls to the bathroom for a diaper change. I'm in the stall with the baby-changing station and I'm in the middle of changing Claire's diaper when Grace attempts to dunk her hand in the toilet. I yell at her to stop before she does the deed and so, she moves on to the trash can. 

Again I yell "Grace, no!! Yucky!!" She listens and moves on ... to the stall door. I've still got Claire's bare behind to deal with when Grace tries to make a run for it. I spend the next few seconds trying to figure out how I can finish changing Claire's diaper without Grace bolting out into the bathroom and getting stolen by the nearest crazy. (Good luck with that one, Crazy. We don't call her the Screamer for nothin'). So, here I am finishing with Claire, while holding the stall door close with my leg kicked up in the air, thinking how lucky Grace is to have such a patient mother.

I put Claire on floor and switch to changing Grace's diaper. Claire looks around, clearly evaluating her options while Mom is preoccupied. She tells me the toilet is yucky and I think maybe I can get through this diaper with no problems. Then she makes her way to the toilet paper. And pulls on it. And pulls on it. Until there is a heaping pile of toilet paper on the bathroom floor. Good grief. I'm pretty sure I left the bathroom sweating. 

On having a career and being a stay-at-home Mom … 

Every weekday my alarm goes off at 3:45 a.m. Beep. Beep. Beep. I hit snooze once or twice and then drag myself out of bed. Yawning and rubbing my eyes, I make my way to the office (in the next room). I pull on my warm clothes -- it's cold in the dark of this February morning. I work for the next several hours, quietly at my computer, occasionally remarking to Scott about something interesting in the news. Then, just as my work shift is nearing its half-way mark, the girls start to wake up and I grab my juggling hat as I prepare to toggle between being a Mom and being an employee. 

There are moments when it seems like I can't possibly do both, but with the help of both Scott and our Moms, we have made it work, and it's getting easier as the girls get more independent. These days are long. 4 a.m. to 11 p.m. every day. And the only break I get is about 45-90 minutes during their nap in the afternoon. 

There are days where I'm certain I will fall over with exhaustion. But not a single day goes by that I don't thank my lucky stars that I work from home. 

I'm one of those people who starts to get stressed during the last couple of days of vacation -- worried that it's ending too soon. I know that I will feel that way later in life -- that their childhood ended way too soon. And when those days come that I'm listening to sentimental country songs and flipping through their baby albums, I will reassure myself that I soaked up every last second I could. That calms my panic now, but somehow I doubt that will ease the pain later in life. Mamas will always miss their babies. 

Smile!

Lately, whenever the girls see a cell phone, they pick it up, hold it up in front of you and say "smiiiiiile." Little photographers in the making. It's adorable.

Now, whenever I ask the girls to smile for the camera, this is what I get. Also, adorable. And hilarious.

Part 2: Be Kind, Rewind

Soooo ...  I finally found my SD card for my camera. And without further ado, let's rewind.

----

Dear Grace & Claire,

This letter is about 6 weeks late. I'm so sorry for the delay, but can promise you that later in life you'll understand.

You'll understand that sometimes hiding from Daddy under our make-shift blanket fort is more important.

Sometimes making lego towers and kicking them down and rebuilding them again for the 75th time is more important.

Sometimes making snakes and snowmen out of play-doh is more important.

Sometimes snuggling in the recliner watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is more important.

Sometimes letting you ride on my back while I pretend to be a horse is more important.

Sometimes sitting in our bean bags and reading you "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs" is more important.

Sometimes rocking your babies while singing "Rock-bye-baby" is more important.

Actually, I take that back. Those things are always more important. Even if it means your birthday letter is a little late.

About six weeks ago, you turned two years old. TWO years old. I still have a hard time believing it has been that long already. These years have been the best — and most difficult — years of our lives. Years that have pushed me to the limits of both frustration and happiness -- usually on the same day.

And while some things are getting easier, like eating and sleeping, some challenges are just revving up, like when Claire uses Grace as a punching bag. We're doing what we've always done -- relishing the good days, surviving the bad ones and hoping that we're teaching you something along the way.

You both are incredibly smart, beautiful, hilarious little girls. Thanks for the two most wonderful years a Mom could ask for. I can't wait to see what this year brings.

Love you,
Mama

Baby Cows

One of our neighbors has about 20-30 cows in the pens near their house and it has been one of our favorite activities to walk down the road and see the cows. When they were just itty bitties and I was pulling them in the wagon, the moment we crested the hill and the cows came into view, the girls would start excitedly waving their arms and mooing.

Yesterday, as we were walking away from the cows, I said to the girls, "Say bye to the baby cows. And the Mama cows. And the Daddy cows."

As we headed back the house, the cows no longer in sight, Claire says ...

Bye Baby cows.

Bye Mobby cows.

Bye Da-yee cows.

(A couple of seconds pass.)

Bye Grace cows.

Bye Claire cows.