Party

This is why we work with the families we do.  Last night, we were at a (very adult only) Halloween party thrown by Bug and Andrew's parents.  At one point, their dad pointed at us and announced, "I think it's time for our nannies to take a shot!"

Yep.  We love our families.

Breaking

Breaking news, that is.

TWO kids were TOTALLY dry all day!!!

I'm not saying this is the end of accidents; it's just that holycrapIdidn'tdealwithpeetoday.

We did all sorts of fun stuff tonight: split a cookie in the mall food court, picked up some squeezable fruit at the store, had lots of bathroom trips, and explored the fascinating worlds of electric toilets and noisy hand dryers.

And they stayed dry.  This sound: a sigh of relief.

Four and five

Yesterday was my frazzled day.  My "makes gun sign with fingers and shoots self in head as I run after Patrick toward the bathroom for the fifteenth time in thirty minutes, and gets a laugh from the guy at the front desk at gymnastics" day.  See?  Even that sentence was frazzled.

Today, though, was a positive!  Patrick did poop in his underwear, but pooping really is a whole different battle (though they've done it on the potty some).  Other than that, (drumroll), both were dry for six hours this morning!  All through preschool, all through playing at home, all through lunch.  I'm pleased.

I'm heading back to their house tonight; V is going to be practicing some Montessori work at the classroom at her school, and kids are welcome, so I think I'll take the twins over there.  Not that I'm counting down or anything, but...in roughly seven hours, I won't have to think about who is peeing when and where until Monday morning.  That, my friends, is a celebration.

Christmas, or, day three

The title is not Christmas due to a present, though Patrick did accidentally leave a little something in his underwear.  Twice.

Well, it all started because Lilly was throwing a screaming-crying-three-year-old tantrum.  This made me forget that the kids were in underwear and needed to be encouraged to go potty (I know, how could I forget); I quickly remembered when Patrick said, "I have to pee! ...my underwear's wet."

Ten minutes later, he runs over: "I have stinky diaper can you change it?"  Uh, you're not in a diaper, boy.  That was lovely.

No, Christmas is in the title because they both were singing O Christmas Tree today.  I have no idea why.  Maybe they watched one of their Christmas movies last night?  It was a hilarious scene: they laid their hula hoops down on the driveway, then carefully moved all their pumpkins and gourds from the front steps into the hula hoops, all the while singing together.

I still have two months before I have to deal with Christmas; don't make me think about it yet.  Though we may actually have some fun (!) holiday (!) plans in the works, and I'm used to those two words being an oxymoron.

Day two

Accidents.
Progress.
Hopeful.
Frazzled.
Resigned.
Encouraged.
Pee.
Poop.
Underwear.
Dry.
Wet.
Diapers.
(Nap.)
Yuck.

Day one

As of this morning, diapers are over at the twins' house, except for nap and bedtimes.  They really are ready, though; we went more than four hours this morning with Lilly staying totally day and Patrick only pooping a bit in his underwear (which honestly surprised both of us, when he pulled his underwear down and it fell out).  It's stressful, though: always keeping an eye on both of them, checking the time to make sure they're trying enough, just waiting for the accident.  On top of all the fun that comes with two three year olds.  (Two giant tantrums at lunch.  Enough said.)

But today did go well.  Especially with Lilly - I'm hoping she'll be pretty easy.  We stayed home today, and will again tomorrow, but Wednesday Patrick has speech, Thursday is gymnastics, and Friday is school.  Here goes nothing.

Return

I didn't mean to be gone for quite so long, but the cabin in the mountains did not have (working) internet.  It was indeed up in the mountains, and the trees and the views were gorgeous.  V and I were able to relax, rest, and spend some fun time with a dear friend.

Now we are home, to two kitties desperate for attention, and tomorrow starts the twins' potty training adventure.  (I really have no idea what that will consist of.)

This weekend, V and I are attending a Halloween party that Bug and Andrew's parents are hosting.  It's apparently a big deal; they've held it for the past who-knows-how-many years.  We're tossing around costume ideas, but nothing is set yet.

We were stuck in traffic for an hour and a quarter (progress: two miles), so my brain is fried.  And my cat's, clearly, is not.

Fighting

I cry easily.  I know this about myself; I've hated it for years, and am only lately coming around.  That said, a text from a friend the other day brought me to tears.

I'm really sorry that this [everything anti-gay in the world] is happening, and I know it doesn't help much, but know that we [she and her husband] will fight alongside you guys until you get what you should have had a long time ago.  It makes me angry that people justify their hatred with love of God, but hopefully more minds will change.

I know we have friends who support us.  I know we have friends who are gay, fighting each day as we are (overtly or not) for recognition and acceptance.  I've never heard someone be so explicit about it, though.  I've never had someone tell me that I shouldn't have to educate everyone (which was a later text).  I've never had someone say, in essence, "This is a terrible thing.  Let me help you get through it."

And so I sniffled and blinked rapidly.  I locked the text in my phone, to read when the going gets tough, when I feel like we're alone in a sea of antagonism.  The mental image of dear friends fighting alongside us, ready to remind us that we are worth it, ready to jump in front of us and take the heat...  I'm tearing up again.

No comment

Okay, comments:

Look what we have!  Well, we don't have it yet, as neither of us have our motorcycle licenses (which our state requires), but we have paid in full and it's waiting at the store for us.

There was much happy dancing.
Eeeeeee!

To do before leaving on Thursday

- get the oil changed in the car
- possibly get other stuff done to the car (after all, it's our only one)
- drop off pictures with Essie's mom
- vacuum the house
- do the dishes
- find someone to watch the cats
- get my motorcycle permit
- pack for trip
- babysit tomorrow night
- babysit the night after
- put away laundry
- figure out how to unclog the bathroom sink

See, wifey dear?  This is why I'm stressed.

Quotables

Seth: Do you know what a million plus a hundred is?  Two thousand eleven!  That's a big number.

Isabella, when I got her from her crib where she definitely did not nap: I made a little bit of noise, but I was quiet when my eyes were closed.

Isabella: Where's Mommy?
Me: She had a doctor's appointment.
Isabella: Oh, she's at her physical therapist.
(Keep in mind, she's two!)

Exhibition

Tomorrow, V and I are taking her pictures over to the family center, where they'll be on the walls for three months.  It's an awesome opportunity.

We scavenged thrift stores for frames; she had to spraypaint some of them black.  Everything looks amazing now, though.  Uh, except for my bloody finger.  And the glass in the trash bag.  Welcome to thrifting!

This week is vacation, thanks to the twins being at the beach.  I still have Bug and Andrew a few days, and Seth and Isabella tomorrow.  Oh, and Kali and her sisters on Tuesday night, helping their mom with bath night.  For the past two and a half weeks, she's been a single mom due to her husband's job.  The end is finally near, though.

And Thursday, we run for the hills.  I mean, head to the mountains.  I hear there's going to be a hot tub!

Addenda

Both at gymnastics yesterday and the big indoor play park today, Patrick and Lilly each tried using the potty of their own volition.  Yesterday Lilly had success, but otherwise none: still, I'm so proud of them for asking to try!

They left today for just over a week of vacation.  I'm exhausted right now, but I'm sure I'll start missing them soon.  I'm just too in love with those kids.  Maybe not "too" in love.

V and I have the rest of the weekend kid-free.  Her photography has really picked up, which is great, and we have some sessions lined up for that in the coming weekends.  But first, away to beautiful mountains with us, come Thursday!  We both need to recharge.  Lots.

Found out today that the place we're staying has a hot tub!  Need I say more?
(No.  The end.)

Potties, or dining room chairs

We leave for vacation in a week!  I'm so excited.

A friend told me yesterday that he was "in suspense" (his words) as to the state of Lilly's potty usage.  It was actually a good reminder for me, as I hadn't mentioned anything potty-related in awhile, and I like to keep it on their brains.

Lilly asked for underwear yesterday, and then so did Patrick.  She, per usual, is great about not having accidents when in underwear; it's getting her to wear it full-time that's the trick (darn you, disposable diapers, and your convenience and comfort).  Since both of them have a habit of getting bored, restless, and tantrum-y during lunch, I let them sit in the normal chairs at the dining room table for lunch, with the little potty nearby.  If they asked, they could get down and try to use the potty.  For the most part that worked to keep the moods okay.  Lilly did a lot of peeing.  Patrick not so much.  He may have gone once in the two or so hours he had underwear on yesterday, but I can't recall.

Until, of course, I saw his expression change, and he stood up in his chair to show me the puddle underneath.  He sat on the potty; I cleaned it up.  No big deal.  (I'm so thankful that these things aren't a big deal.)

Today, we did the same routine: big chairs, underwear, frequent potty breaks.  I know they're telling me they need to go just so they can get down, but I don't want to thwart it this early in the game.  Both kids really did have to go, too, a lot.  I was proud of them.

Then Lilly pooped in her chair.  I don't think any of us knew where that came from; she looked as confused and startled as I did.  Again, she tried the potty (no more luck), I cleaned it up, and life went on.

The adventures of potty training.  They leave for vacation Friday, and I think that when they get back, diapers are for real going away soon.  Stay tuned - I'll try not to leave anyone hanging from a cliff.

Shame

Yesterday, after Patrick screamed at me multiple times during lunch, I smacked his hand.  This is - to put it mildly - very atypical behavior.  It's happened maybe a handful of times, which is a handful too many.  I put him in his crib for timeout and calm-down time, then came back downstairs to Lilly.

I explained to her that when I went up to talk to Patrick, I needed to apologize, because it is never okay to hit.  Back in the nursery, I said the same thing to Patrick.  I told him I was wrong, and that hitting wasn't nice and I shouldn't have done it.  I said I was sorry.

I left it in the note for their mom.  (Partially because I'm super honest, partially because they would out me anyway.)  In my note for this morning, she wrote back that she knew it was hard to keep it together, and that she knows I know I'm a role model and that we can't tell the kids hitting is wrong if we do it.  Thankfully, she also wrote that she knew I had sound judgment, or something like that, that made it clear that she didn't think I was a terrible, immoral person.  I still feel horrid.

Cute Lilly line of the day, to end on a cheery note: "I'm gonna play in my nursery-room.  In my bedtime crib!"

Definitions

I learned tonight, in reading Sexy Origins and Intimate Things, that the definitions we are used to for sexual orientation (a concept that itself wasn't around until recently) are recent inventions.

Up until the late 1920s, a heterosexual was a person who engaged in "perverted," i.e. non-procreative, sex.  This could include same-sex dalliances, as many heterosexuals, by virtue (ha!) of being perverse, supposedly lumped that in.  Homosexuals were also in existence, though they were consider a smaller concern.  The heteros were the ones to watch out for.

Until within the past eighty years, sex/society was divided not by whom you chose to interact with, but how you did so.  Oral sex and birth control were the evil side, regardless of gender.

Fascinating stuff, really.

Bug

Oh, my sweet Bug.  It had been so long since I'd seen you.  Your brother is all over the place; rumor has it that he's even stood on his own for a second or two.  Your hair is longer and curlier.  When I arrived, you were eating sushi, and trying to figure out chopsticks.  Are you really only 28 months old?

In the basement, you put on your dress-up clothes and told me you were as pretty as Dora.  Then you pretended to cook me sushi (and I laughed at the irony).  We even got to cuddle a bit while you decided which color cup you wanted your bedtime milk in.

I've missed you.

Phone

Saturday night, roughly eight thirty or nine.  My phone rings: it's the twins' mom.

"Hi, sorry to bother you.  Are you doing something important?"
"Nope."  (I was doing a puzzle.)
"Okay, good.  I have a little girl here who wants to say goodnight to you.

Both Lilly and Patrick told me about going to get pumpkins and flowers that day, and everything else they'd done.  Then they said goodnight.

My heart: melted.

Adoption

This weekend, V and I are dog sitting.  Sort of.  We're currently at Bug and Andrew's house, hanging out with their sweet, spastic dog.  Earlier today, we took her to the dog park, and didn't bother to correct people who talked about "our dog."

I do that with kids, too.  "Your kids are so cute!"  And I just thank the person.  I'll claim them when I'm only interacting for a few minutes; everyone at gymnastics and school knows they aren't technically mine.

Though, the other day, the twins' mom sent me a really sweet text about how V and I are so important to their family, and she wants to keep us both close.  There's definitely been a change in the past few months, really since I hit the one-year mark.  She seems more open and emotional, which she never really has before; we all seem more invested and attached.  And I love it.

Twelve days until we go on vacation!  Courtesy of my one-year anniversary, the twins' parents are giving us the keys to their house a few hours away, in beautiful mountains, for us to relax in.  I can't believe we're going away for four whole days, with no children and no family.

You know, maybe not with the dog, but at least with kids I can take credit for manners and mannerisms, some of the time.  That makes me feel better.

(Especially when I hear Lilly in the backseat say "Goodness gracious me!" like I occasionally do.)

Potato

There is a little girl in our gymnastics class, and today her mom was encouraging her to use her feet to kick the balls, not pick them up with her hands.  "Hot potato, hot potato," she kept saying.  Lilly looked at her, at the little girl, at me, all with an expression of "I'm not seeing a potato here."  Once the little girl had moved on, Lilly walked over to the ball she'd been touching and very gingerly reach out two fingers.  She tentatively touched it a time or two, before giving me a look that clearly said "That woman is out of her mind."

I love my literalist kids.

Cougar

This post has nothing to do with older women.

The twins and I went to the zoo yesterday, and Lilly rode a cougar on the merry-go-round.  We ended up having perfect timing for the cougar encounter later; the zoo has two one-year-olds, and they did a great routine of running and jumping around to get to treat boxes.  Awesome animals, especially when they're a foot away, separated only by glass.

Lilly was so excited to tell me, and later Daddy, that she rode on and saw a raccoon!  I guess the "coo" sound confused her.

Sand

V is doing an art project for one of her Montessori classes, and needed some sand.  I should've thought ahead and gotten some from the twins' sandbox, but I didn't, and we couldn't really find any anywhere.

The solution was so simple: go to the awesome playground that has a sand area, and put some in a jar.  Of course we couldn't make it there until 9:30, so we technically trespassed, but all in the name of art!

So sorry

As Patrick, Lilly, and I walked out the front door to get in the van this morning, Lilly pointed out that I was driving V's car.  Mine broke, I told her.  Patrick looked up at me, a little upset looking, and said, "I so sorry!"  It was adorably sweet.

Lilly: I sorry V broke your car.
Me: Haha, no, there were just a lot of things wrong with it.  V didn't break it.
Lilly: You need to fix it now?
Me: No, I think it's just time I got a new one.
Patrick: I so sorry.  I so sorry you broke your car.

Decisions

V and I are in the middle of trying to decide whether to buy a cheaper car to replace mine, or trade both of ours in and go down to one (nicer) car.  I'd love to do one car, but we don't know what her work situation will be yet, and so we don't know if that's an option.

I'm surprisingly unworried about money; perhaps it's because we've been in this place before.  But the car issue is stressing me out: I hate decisions, especially big ones.  Can't I be the one who just turned three?

There really isn't a lot else on my mind.  I'm in the university library while V has class, and then I'm hoping we'll get dinner.  I've been eating all day, no signs of stopping.

Uneventful week coming up.  Busy with the twins: Patrick has a speech evaluation tomorrow, class at the zoo on Wednesday, and then gymnastics Thursday and school Friday.  But I honestly can't think if I have anything planned outside of them.  So strange.

Party

Yesterday was Patrick and Lilly's birthday, and their party.  V and I went early to help keep them occupied while their parents cooked, cleaned, and set up.  It was mostly family, with some little kids: their friend from across the street with his parents, and Essie and Anne with their parents.

It was phenomenally fun.  We wouldn't have missed it for the world.  We both felt like part of the family; there was even a moment where their mom was telling everyone how great I was.

We're visiting (extended) family now, and having a blast.  That's why this is short, but know that I'm madly in love with my twins.  And my wife.