Conversations with Two-Year olds

On Sunday morning, as I pulled my dress over my head before church, Micah stepped back, looked me up and down and said, "Hey, Mom. You look awesome."
I mean, seriously? Two-year old ladies look out. In 20 years you are going to have quite the charmer on your hands.
Also, after being so flattered, I made Travis take a picture of me, and then I was joined by my complimentary friend:

These pictures are otherwise unrelated to this post. 11.24.13 (18 Weeks, I think?)

Once again, throughout the week I've just recorded all the little funny moments and comments throughout the week. I love having a smart phone, where I can immediately write down all the things the say. It's hard when it's not immediately available, because I know I forgot so much stuff!
Well, as the boys become more hilarious and better at speaking, I suspect this will become a weekly feature.
Here you go, my friends. Conversations with two-year olds:

Grey: Micah, don't go in the street.
Micah: Okay, Grey.
Grey: If a car coming, you get owies. DON'T GO IN THE STREET.
Micah: Mom! Grey's being a boss to me!

Micah: Your daddy at work?
Elanor: Yes. Your daddy is at work, too?
Me: All the daddies are at work, huh?
Micah: Your Daddy, too, Mom? Grandpa at work?

Micah: Hey Mom, don't be scared, okay? Imma punch the monsters and save you, okay Mom?

Me: Grey you can't watch that, it's too scary. It's about monsters.
Grey: But Mom! I love monsters!

Me: I have a new doctor-
Micah: It's Doctor Who!

Me: We'll go to the movie theatre when Daddy comes home.
Micah: In two weeks?
Travis: No, I'll be back this afternoon!
Micah: In just two days?

Micah: Imma get down.
Me: Thanks for sitting with me for a minute.
Micah: No problem.

Micah: I'm drawing my mom, and that's YOU!

Me: Shhh
Micah (whispers): but I'm already being quiet.

Grey: Hey! Pause Dr. Who when I take a nap! I watch it when I wake up, okay?

Me: Hmm... What should we have for dinner?
Grey: Tea?
Me: that doesn't seem very substantial.
Grey: Okay. How 'bout bananas?

Grey: Look this puppy I found!
Me: His name is Ruff
Grey: Hello, Ruff. I love you, Ruff. Mom, I love Ruff.

Travis: What color is this button?
Grey: Red
Travis: That's right! What color is this marker?
Grey, I think red, also.

Grey: What's that?
Me: It's lipstick. Do you like it?
Grey: Can I wear some?
Me: No. It's just for Moms, but you can give me a kiss.
Grey: Um. No. I don't like kissing lipstick.

Grey: I'm peeing!
Me: Yay!
Grey: You hear it with your ears? You see my pee, with your eye?

Micah: Grey hit me in my ball!
Me: What? Where did he hit you?
Micah: Here! On my ball-eye!
Me: Your eyeball?
Micah: Yes! He hit my eyeball!

Grey: Good job, Micah.
Micah: Thanks, Grey. Nice work.

Micah: I'm pooping!
Grey: RUN!

Micah: Grey has my baby!
Travis: Well, he's playing with it. So you have to wait until he's done playing with it.
Micah: No. I'll just punch him.

Micah: I burped!
Me: What do you say?
Micah: Excuse me!
Travis: No! Say, "Nice burp!"
Micah: **Huge fake burp** NICE BURP!
Me: Stop teaching them bad things! I am trying to teach them to have good manners!
Micah: No, Mom! It's Daddy and Micah time!
Grey: Go away, Mom! Get out of here!
Travis: We're doing manly things!
Me: What?!
Grey: GO AWAY MOM!
Travis: Okay. Stop picking on your mom, she's my favorite!
Micah: No, Dad!
Travis: Yes! I love her! She's my favorite!
Grey: Stop! Don't kiss my mom again!
Travis: She's my wife! I can kiss her!
Grey: No, you can't! She's my mom!

Travis: You can go to sleep in your own bed, because you're a big boy.
Micah: No! I'm not! I'm a baby! I'm a baby! Stay with me, I'm a baby!

**Driving by a little Asian man standing at a bus stop**
Grey: Look! There's my Daddy! Hi Daddy!
Micah: That's not Daddy. It's Mom! Hi Mom!

Micah: Look at my belly!
Me: Wow! What a big, full belly! What's in there?
Micah: Poop!

**Grey opens the washing machine door and screams inside**
Grey: HELLO, ANYBODY IN THERE? NO, NOBODY IN THERE!
**Turns to me, and says calmly**
Grey: It's okay, Mom. Nobody in there. It's safe.

Me: Oh, I got an owie on my finger!
Grey: Daddy attacked you?
Me: What?! No! He didn't attack me!
Grey: Huh. Well, Micah attacked me.

** I wanted to look up on my phone if I was 18 weeks or 19 weeks pregnant for this blogpost.**
Me: Do you guys know where my phone is? I need it quick.
Grey: No. I not have it.
Micah: I have it!
Me: Oh, good! I can use it, please?
**I stretch out my hand to take my phone, and Micah mimes handing me something. He doesn't actually have my phone. It is imaginary.**
Me: Oh. Thanks, I guess. This isn't really what I need.
Micah: Well? Call somebody, Mom.

Photo a Day: Nov 17 - 23

Happy week of Thanksgiving, my friends!
I don't have much to add, today, except this: I am so grateful for the things in these pictures. My family, my home, happiness, and the preservation of these memories.
So much to be thankful for! Hope that your week is pumped full of all the lovely things you're grateful for.

 Walking home from church is fun when you're "tall like Daddy!" //  Pretending they're asleep.

Micah and his digger are cleaning up our leafy-yard.

 Grey and Micah paint a picture.

Grey likes to swing in the hammock, even when it's crunchy with frost! // Micah watches his daddy leave for work in the outfit he picked out for the day.

Frosty, chilly, winter week... I wish you came with snow! (Also, the date is mislabeled. Just noticed. Don't care enough to fix it....)

Essays on Motherhood - "Full-time Caregiver"

One of my favorite pictures of the boys and me. 

A friend recently told me about a conversation that she had.
It went like this:

Mom 1: I love being a stay-at-home Mom! I used to work full time with all the kids in daycare, but it's so much better being home!

Mom 2: I really enjoy being a full-time caregiver, too!

That's what she said.
A "full-time caregiver."
And, in case you're wondering, this woman is a stay-at-home mom, too.
She chose her words carefully, giving "full-time caregiver" emphasis. I wasn't there and I wasn't the woman speaking, so forgive a little inference here.
But it sure seems like she wanted it to be clear, she wasn't just a stay-at-home mom.
She didn't just sit around home with the babies she birthed out. She was doing something a bit more important than that label connotes, thank you very much. She was spending her time caregiving. All of her time. Full-time.

If someone asked me what my job is, and I said "I'm a full-time caregiver," do you know what they would picture?
A nurse. Yes. A nanny. Sure.
A mother? No.
Because a mother doesn't work full-time.
Full-time isn't really full-time.
Full-time in the work-force is 40-70 hours a week. Wanna know how many hours a week I am a mother?
168.
Aka: all the hours. Full-time.
Oh, you may argue that I sleep.
First of all, if someone told you that: it is a lie. A bold-faced lie!
Twice last night, I got up with my children. In the middle of the night.
And just to clarify, I wasn't sleeping soundly during the (maybe) 6 other hours of the night.
Mothers never quite sleep soundly. Ever. Possibly until their children leave for college. (But let's be real, college kids still call their moms in the middle of the night. I sure did.)
I woke up last night and listened to my boys grunting, talking, moving and whimpering in their sleep about 10 times and I woke up and felt that new little life in my belly turning somersaults and also not sleeping.
I went to bed immediately after the kids finally fell asleep last night, and was up for the day at 6:45 when they climbed into bed with me, whispering those delightful words "Mom, I'm peeing!"
But even being asleep doesn't mean that I stop being a mother, or that I stop mothering.
I am not just lying in bed. I am lying at the ready.
Ready at all times, to leap out of bed and run to the aid of my children. To get up at midnight, and whisper comforting thoughts and promises to banish the nightmares. To wake up at 2am and strip puke-covered sheets off the beds. To get up at 4am and carefully measure out exactly 1tsp of Tylenol. To get up at 6am and make yet another batch of scrambled eggs and read "How I became a Pirate" for the umpteenth time.
Because I don't get to leave my job as "full-time caregiver" and go home and take a break with a little Dr Who.
I get to watch Dr Who on mute with subtitles while my children sleep, and I fold laundry and the bread for dinner bakes in the kitchen.
And at the slightest child's whimper, I shove the iPad out of sight (in the middle of an intense episode), so my kids don't think they can watch a show when they come out.
So yeah.  Full-time is a lie.
But wanna know what else is a lie?
"Caregiver."
Caregiver. As if all I did all day was give care.
Le sigh. How nice.
Sure, some times I am quite like a nurse (cleaning up poop and blood All. Day. Every. Day.) or like a nanny (making pb&js and singing The Wheels on the Bus). And sure, I assume that most caregivers love the people they're giving care to.
They may even occasionally lose sleep thinking about them.
But you guys. Mothering is so much more than caregiving.
I could make that list, right? That one we've all seen that says, "I'm not just a mom, I'm a chauffeur, a chef, a cleaning lady, a nurse... Etc, etc."
but that's not Mothering either.
Because being a mom isn't a list of tasks (Teach children to say please, check. Clip their fingernails, check. Do another load of whites, check.)
Sometimes Mothering is snuggling on the couch for hours on end. Mothering is loving your child. Mothering can look like nothing. Mothering can look like sitting still in a messy house.
But Mothering is important. Dare I say, more important that just being a caregiver? Even if you're just Mothering a baby who can't do anything but drool.
Anyone can be a caregiver to your child. Anyone. Sure, some people are better at it, and your child may love this caregiver more than that one. But only one person can be a mother to your child. And that person is you.
(Just to be clear, the same is just as unequivocally true of fathers. Kids need their parents.)
A full-time caregiver is not a mother, it is the person mothers send their kids to while they're working outside the home.
Full-Time Caregiver or Stay-at-Home Mom?
Hmm. I know which I'd prefer to be, and which I'd prefer to have.

Wait. I guess I better say something about that label "Stay at Home," hadn't I?
I will.
First, I will say this: all of the above applies to all mothers. Mothers, whether they work outside the home or not are all-the-time, 168 hours a week, never-ceasing Mothers.
Next, I will say this: If I didn't like being at home with my children, and wanted to work, I almost definitely would. I don't think that wanting to work is something women should be ashamed or upset by. And that goes double for single mothers or women who aren't given a choice in work at all.

But staying at home is often a hard decision, too. It's not like deciding on a new job. It's the opposite.
It's deciding to not have a "job," possibly forever. You're not giving up work. You're not giving up stress. You're giving up an income. You're probably giving up praise, recognition, and promotions. You're giving up a chance to associate with adults besides your husband and other women who also have spit-up on their clothes.
But here's the thing: it's worth it.
Because you don't just give up all those lovely things. You get new things in return.
You get to be there for every new and significant moment of your child's life. You get to be the one who's always there when they need a hug. You get to create a home that is a place of sanctuary, safety, peace, love, acceptance, happiness, knowledge, light, kindness, and every other good descriptive word you can think of. You get to nourish, uplift, and strengthen your family physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally through your constant love and service to them, and they get to do the same for you. You get to Mother all day. And sure, sometimes that includes a list of endless, seemingly thankless poop-related tasks.
But sometimes, it includes that blessing of having a baby fall asleep on your chest, with their hot, wet breath on your neck and their scratchy, little fingernails moving over your skin in their sleep.
And as hard as it is to believe, a little less money and little more occasion to just be still is probably just what you need to be happier.
(We all know that, deep down, right? But it's difficult to actually put into practice.)
But please, Moms:
When you describe yourself and what you do, whether to yourself, to other mothers, or to the CEO at the job you left to be a "Stay-at-home Mom," don't downgrade yourself.
Don't make up a new term to write on the form you fill out at the doctor's office.
Don't assume that the term "Mother" doesn't quite sum it up.
It describes it all perfectly.

Identical

The funny thing about the boys is, 99% of the time, they don't look alike.
I mean, sure. They look alike. But they don't look the same. Strangers or people we see infrequently may have difficultly remembering which features belong to which boy.
(Okay, one of them is thinner, with more delicate features and longer hair. One has a wider smile and a squarer face - but which one is which?)
But rarely do people think they look the same. In fact, when I'm out with the boys, people often ask if the boys are fraternal (or even if they're twins) and are surprised by my answer. (Although, they also say things like, "What do you mean they're identical? They have different haircuts!)

And the more you get to know the boys, their different voices and the way they move, walk, sit, and smile- the less alike they seem. You don't need them to have different haircuts to know who is who.

And then, every once and a while, they look exactly the same. I do a double take, or call out, "Hey!" so they turn and say, "What, Mom?" and I suddenly know who they are.
It's weird and disorienting, because I can honestly say, They do not look the same to me at all, but sometimes I can't tell them apart.
That doesn't quite make sense, does it?

Last week, I took some pictures of the boys, which you've already seen on the Photo a Day. They were taken in different light, locations, different days, different expressions, different boys.
But when I put them next to each other, I was surprised by how similar they looked in them.
They looked like twins.
Identical twins.

Oh my gosh, I love these boys. When I was pregnant the first time, people would often say, "Oh, I wonder what your babies will look like!"
And so far - all my babies look the same.
They have baldy heads and crinkly blue eyes. They have fair skin and long, knobby limbs. They have jack-o-lantern teeth and little button noses.
So when I picture this new baby, I picture my other babies.
But, really, I wonder what this baby will look like. Will he (she?) look like my others? Or have her (or his?) brothers' coloring, or be dark eyed and olive skinned like me?
Oh baby. I can't stop thinking 'bout you.
What will you look like?

Great Expectations

Expectant moms are afraid to say that they hope they're having a boy or girl.
I know it.
I know, because I'm afraid to say it.
I'm afraid that if I say it out loud, then it won't happen.
I'm afraid that if it doesn't happen, I'll be disappointed.
If I'm disappointed by the gender of my child, then I'm pretty much a terrible mom, aren't I?

So you can't say it out loud.

With my first pregnancy, I thought I was having twins. I did. I dreamed about twins constantly. I saw how much bigger I was than my other pregnant friends, and I knew. I just knew it. 
But I was afraid to say it out loud.
So, I said it secretly.
People asked when we'd have a baby, and I said, "In 6 months we'll have at least one."
We'd listen to the baby's heartbeat, and I'd ask the midwife to move the doppler around a little, just in case we could pick up another sound in there.
And she'd roll her eyes and say, "I'm sure you're not pregnant with twins."
But I was not reassured.

I used to have dreams about taking twins to the park. I was pushing a double stroller or they were toddling down the street ahead of me. They had chubby little legs and blond curly hair, like old illustrated Gerber babies or the babies in old Golden Books.
The sun was so bright, that everything was almost too white to see. The twins, (usually a boy and a girl), would run away from my across the grass, laughing while birds sung.
I would wake up, and lie in bed - trying to decide if these dreams were being caused by my subconscious trying to alert me to twins or by the 6 bowls of Apple Jacks I ate at one in the morning.
They were extremely nice, non-accurate dreams.

My twins do not look like I imagined. And they are both boys. Usually I can't hear the birds singing at the park, over the screaming (both excited and angry).
But it doesn't matter.
Because there were two big, important things about those dreams that were real:
1. I was going to have twins.
2. It would be dreamy and awesome.

Once again, I have conflicting feelings.
My first pregnancy, I struggled with feeling of unlikeliness. I wasn't going to have twins, because seriously, who even has twins?
No one. It was highly unlikely. I wasn't really pregnant with twins, I told myself, I'm just a paranoid new mom with a suspicion that my pregnancy was bigger and better than everyone else's.

And now, I have new feelings. This pregnancy feels exactly like my other pregnancy, so it's probably a boy- right? And if it were a boy, that would be awesome. It really, really would. Besides already having tons of boy clothes, and boy-raising experience - I'm all about brothers.
I could probably be happy as one of those moms with all boys. The new baby would have big brothers to show him the ropes, to teach him cool things that Mom doesn't want him to learn, to help him and take care of him. To love him and to tease him. Brothers are the best.

But then, whenever I talk about the baby, I find myself saying "she."
I can feel her moving. I wonder what she looks like.
I picture the nursery or the quilt I'm going to make, and my friends- it is pink, yellow, and flowery.
Even Micah only refers to the baby as, "Baby Sister." Seems like he knows something, doesn't it?

And I can't decide. Do I think this baby is a girl because I want a girl? I want a girl because I already have two boys. I want them to have a sister to take care of. To tease and harass, to protect and be gentle with. I want to buy her little patterned knit-tights, and read her books that aren't about trains and pirates.

Or do I want a boy because I'm kind of scared of having a girl? I am. I am afraid of dolls and ballet shoes. I am uncomfortable with flowery aprons and fairy gardens.
I am much more at home with sticks and dirt, and learning to punch imaginary monsters.

And I know, okay? Girls like dirt and punching monsters, too. Boys like dolls and dancing. Yeah, yeah. I know. That doesn't make me feel less nervous.
Because I already know, I can do okay with boys. I know no such thing about girls.

All these conflicting feelings have me feeling quite conflicted.
Do I really think this is a boy? Am I pretending that I think it's a boy so that I won't be disappointed if it is?
Or do I think this is a girl? Am I afraid to think this baby is a girl, in case it isn't?

I mean. Seriously, lady. Calm down. Go get your sons some peanut butter and honey sandwiches.
I know.

What will be, will be. 

And I know that I will not be disappointed with either gender. I really won't. A boy or a girl would be such a treat, a blessing, an adventure, and a delight.
But I can't stop wondering, wishing, hoping, and thinking.
December 2nd we find out.
It can't get here fast enough.

Photo a Day: Nov 10-16

Blergh. We have been sick at our house with a rotten stomach bug. Luckily, all of our other neighbors seem to have gotten it, too, and they tell us it only lasts 24 hours or so. And this bad business started on Saturday, and seemed to have died out last night.
Turns out, the nicest thing about having the boys in twin-sized beds is that I can sleep comfortably in their room now. Saturday night, Grey slept in our bed with Travis and I slept in Grey's bed, so I could look after Micah, and it wasn't too terrible! I mean, puking toddlers is always terrible, but it's nice to separate them so the whole house doesn't feel the need to get up and wander around every time I need to peel the sheets off  one bed and switch the laundry.
But last night, every body slept in their own beds and nobody got up to puke or come screaming into my room about using the toilet.
The boys were very confused about why Travis was home all day. Micah kept asking, "Mom go to the Doctor now? We going to church? "
They were like, "We know he doesn't just stay home all day (not even on the weekend!), something must be happening!"
Nope. Just a day of snuggling.

Grey also really, really wanted to watch Dr. Who during all our lying around and tv-watching.
I tried to explain that it's not really a kids' show.
"The monsters in it are too scary!" I said.
"I LOVE the monsters!" he insisted.

Later, when we decided on a not-so-scary episode to watch- the boys were super into it. When it ended, I announced nap time. The next episode automatically started playing, and Grey paused it.
"Keep Dr. Who paused when I take a nap!" he yelled. "I watch it when I wake up!"
Um. Okay, little nerd.

Anyway. Here are some pictures of my cute kids.

Sun Nov 10: Grey shouts a happy goodmorning to the rain. // Mon Nov 11: On a chilly walk with a little boy who dressed himself and posed for this picture.

Tues Nov 12: Grey rides his little bike. // Wed Nov 13: I can't get over how little they look in their very big beds.

 Thurs Nov 14: We uprooted some carrots from the garden! // Fri Nov 15: Belly shot, interrupted by a little monster hunter. (P.S. We did not buy him that gun. Travis has had it since he was a kid, since it's actually an old video game controller. The boys found it, and somehow know that it is a gun, it shoots and kills people, and they are extremely good at gun sound effects. I don't know how this happened?)

Sat Nov 16: Sometimes, even when you're sick, you need to run around a little. The cold fresh air makes you feel better for a minute (and then it makes you tired enough that you need a nap.)

My Micah Boy

 One of the best things about having twins, is comparing them. Okay, maybe comparing isn't quite the right word. But searching for, noticing, and celebrating their differences? That is such a treat.
Instead of assuming that all toddlers are like my own toddler, I can see differences between the two of them- all their built-in quirks of personality and it helps me understand, love (and sometimes forgive) all the quirks in others.
Even before the boys were born, I could spot and try to translate their differences. Micah (Baby B, if you reread old posts) was wiggly constantly. He was kicking, twitching, changing positions months after there was no room to change positions. Grey was relatively still in comparison. He was head-down, ready to be born. But when he did kick, man! did he kick! He kicked so hard that I got a uterine bruise where his feet were.
But the boys were different then. And they still are.
Grey is still a little more solemn, a little more reserved. Micah is expressive and busy, always wanting to touch and talk, and be in everybody's business. Grey just wants some snuggles, some alone time, and to occasionally demonstrate a very high jump for everyone to cheer about.

So when I pulled out my camera the other day, one of my children (guess who), ignored me, and lay down on the grass next to me, deliberately looking the other way.
And one of my children said, "You take my picture, Mom? I say, Cheeeeese. I make a silly face, too."

And, in case you're wondering what's happening while I type this:
Travis and Micah are having an 8am dance party to techno Jingle Bells (???) and Grey is pouting on the couch, yelling "Turn that DOWN!"
But don't be fooled. Grey can bust a move like nobody's business.

Winter Harvest

Utah doesn't seem to know that it's practically Christmas. We've had beautiful, sunny, early-fall weather all week! Often in the 50s or even 60s!
You're killing me, Utah.
But, expecting snow (and preparing for lots of vacations), we signed off on the garden months ago.
It hasn't been weeded, watered, or even remotely tended.
Today, playing in the backyard with our downstairs neighbors she asked, "Do you think we should clear out these beds?"
They were filled with overrun (and brown) watermelon vines and dead leaves that had fallen from the trees.
Meh. I guess so.

And look what we found!
Almost enough food for a small family of four to eat with their dinner!
So. It wasn't a ton, but they're so colorful and tasty and WE GREW THEM IN THE GROUND AND PULLED THEM OUT, so we're pretty excited.
Grey was begging to eat some carrots, despite the dirt. So I finally consented and told him to go for it. Haha, I guess he wasn't sure where to start.

Later, Elizabeth and I were sitting in the yard talking when we realized none of the kids were in sight.  When we found them, they were inside, crowded around a bathroom sink- trying to scrub their carrots clean.
Even though I proved this year that I'm a terrible and lazy gardener, I'm still grateful for this small chance to show my kids where food comes from.
Because good food (fruit, vegetable, animal or nut), comes from the earth.
And it's just in time for Thanksgiving!

I love to see the Temple

We are lucky to live in Salt Lake, only a few miles away from the most famous and recognizable LDS temple in the world. It is extremely beautiful, and we often pass it while driving or go run around its grounds when the boys and I need something to do.
Lately, the boys have developed a total fascination with it. Every time we pass a church, anything with a tower or steeple, even haunted houses or the Disney logo, the boys yell, "The Temple! The Temple!"
And since we never had a working radio in the car until recently, we started the habit of singing at all times while driving.
Usually it's preschool songs, like "Wheels on the Bus" or "Five Little Monkeys," or children's hymns from church.
Since the boys are so into the temple, I decided to teach them, "I love to see the temple," which they now love and sing and request constantly.
It's pretty much adorable.

Here are the lyrics for those of you who don't know the song:

I love to see the temple, I'm going there someday,
To feel the Holy Spirit, to listen and to pray.
For the temple is the House of God,
A place of love and beauty.
I'll prepare myself while I am young,
This is my sacred duty.

(And for those of you who are unfamiliar with Mormon temples, here's a quick bit of info:
Mormon meetinghouses are open to anyone and are used for congregational worship (on Sundays) and community events throughout the week.
Mormon temples are used for personal worship, meditation, and covenants. They can be attended almost every day if you want to, but due to the sacred and quiet nature of the service there, Temples are only open to adult members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.
We also perform our more sacred ordinances at the Temple, such as marriages. Of course, Mormons can be married outside of Temples, but we believe that the Temple is the literal House of God, and that when a couple is married there- they can be together with each other for eternity.
To learn more about Temples, click here.)

Conversations

Suddenly, we have conversations with the boys all day. It's my favorite thing ever.

Me: Why is Grey crying?
Micah: Because I punched him in the eye!
Me: Why do you sound so happy then?
Micah: I just love Grey so much!

Travis: Time me doing this puzzle! Okay, go!
**Travis does a children's puzzle**
Me: It took 2 minutes.
Travis: Now you do it and I'll time you!
Me: I don't want to.
Travis: Just do it! Do it! Do it! I'll time you!
Me: Okay, I'm ready.
Travis: Go!
**I do a children's puzzle**
Me: Okay, I'm done.
Travis: WHAT?! You did it in a minute and a half!
Me: So? You did it in two minutes.
Travis: But I was cheating!

Travis: Look at the moon!
Grey: Oh, the moon turned it's lights on!

** after we went over a big bump while driving**
Me: Oomph! That was rough!
Travis: I'm sorry! It was worse than I expected.
Micah: You alright, Mom?
Me: Yes, I'm okay. Thank you.
Micah: Mom, did Daddy hit you?
Me: What? No! Of course not, honey! We just went over a big bump. Daddy would never hit me.
Travis: Yikes, you say things like that it will get me in trouble.
Micah: Oh. You alright, Daddy? You sad?
Travis: No. Not sad.
Micah: You love Mommy? No hit Mom, okay?

Micah: Hey! Tigger! You going a time-out in this corner!
**flips his toy Tigger over and hits his butt**
Micah: No being bad, Tigger!
Travis: What did Tigger do that was bad?
Micah: He just being naughty!
...
Micah: Okay, Tigger. You come out time-out now. I love you, okay? No being naughty.

Me: We're going to see the temple, and the temple is a special place, because the temple is where our family was made! Who's our family?
Grey: This is, Mom!
Me: That's right! Our family is Mom and Dad, Grey, and Micah and the new baby!
Micah: Me too! And Grey!
Travis: That's right! And Mom and Daddy were married there, so our family can be together forever!
Grey: Jesus do it?
Me: What?
Grey: Jesus make a family?
Travis: Yes, Jesus made our family.
Grey: Jesus at a temple now?
Micah: Yes, Grey! And Heavenly Father at a temple, too!

Travis: Well, my Mom is my mom and my Grandma is my grandma.
Me: Okay?
Travis: My Mom is my mom, and my Grandma is my Dad's mom. And my Grandma is my Mom's mother-in-law, and my Mom is your mother-in-law.
Me: Yes?
Travis: Why do you sound so confused?
Me: I'm just not sure I get where you're going with this.
Travis: What's to get? You are a daughter-in-law, and my Mom is a daughter-in-law and mother-in-law, and my Grandma was a mother-in-law, but you're all different people.
Me: Yeah, I get that, but...
Travis: But, what?! That's it.  That's all I'm trying to say.
Me: All you're trying to say is that we're three different women?
Travis: Yes!
Me: Why did you say it so confusing then?
Travis: What was confusing about it? Nothing! You're just all different! That's all!
Me: Even though we have similar relationships?
Travis: Yes! Seriously, why are you confused by this?

**Micah pulls up his shirt and looks at his stomach**
Micah:  Oh no! Where my baby sister go?
Me: There's not a baby in your belly, remember? The baby is in my belly.
Micah: NO! My belly! **puts his hands on his stomach, big sigh**
Micah: Shhh! Alright, Mom. Baby Sister just sleeping.

Photo a Day: Nov 3 - Nov 9

This week was weird. We spent almost every day inside all day watching movies while the boys tried to figure out how to take underwear off. We spent Saturday in such a craze (painting two of the bedrooms) that I didn't manage a single picture, even with my phone! The weather went from chilly to snowy to perfect to chilly again. (And today is gloriously warm and sunny.)
And I only had a camera half the week, because Travis ended up taking it to work with him. So some pictures are from my phone and some are from my DSLR.

Anyway. Potty-training is still going okay, but we've hit a strange block: They remember to pee on the toilet if they're naked, but if they wear anything on their bottoms, they pee in them. No matter what. Loose fitting sweatpants? Just underwear? Even if they're snuggled up in a blanket - they just zone out and forget about the toilet. Even with me reminding them every 5 minutes.
They will literally stand and look me in the eye and say, "I not have to pee," and wet their pants.
So no pants, I guess.
Grey hates being all naked, but we're doing what must be done!

And here are some pictures that don't accurately represent our week:

Sun Nov 3: Micah can't say his Fs, so this is a LEAP PILE! // Mon Nov 4: On a chilly walk with Grey.

Tues Nov 5: The season's first snow! // Wed Nov 6: When will I stop thinking their feet are so cute?

Thurs Nov 7: Taking his brother for a ride. // Fri Nov 8: Micah blows me a kiss. Muwah!

A "Tiny" Soapbox

A few notes: I will not only talk about pregnancy now, I promise. 

Also, I love a good rant every now and again, I hope you'll forgive me.

Lastly, seriously. Look at the those pictures. Can you believe that people would say, "You don't even look pregnant!" to me? They said it all the time! It was a LIE.

I am not far enough along in my pregnancy to have gotten this phrase thrown at me very much yet, but I got it for 5 months last time around.
And now, I have other pregnant friends, a few months ahead of me, and I see this phrase plastered all over the comment section of every picture of them sporting a baby bump:
"Oh my gosh, you are so tiny you don't even look pregnant!"
Apparently this is a compliment.
It makes me mad.
It's the worst compliment.
Pregnant women should look pregnant!

Are we so obsessed with thinness as a society, that we think it's a compliment to tell a woman (with A CHILD INSIDE HER), that she is tiny?!
When I was pregnant with the twins: I was not tiny. At all.
A stranger literally said the words to me, "I didn't know pregnant women could even get so huge!"
And yet: almost every day someone would say to me: "You look so small, I don't even believe you're carrying twins!"
Or "You're so tiny, I'm jealous!"
Or even, "You hardly even look pregnant!"

First of all, those were downright lies. It made me mad that my friends were lying to my face, while people at the grocery store were constantly asking if I needed to be rushed to the hospital, because I looked ready to burst.
I do think it was intended as a compliment, maybe like "You look so healthy," or "Your face isn't swollen," or even, "You're all belly!"
But that's not what people said. Instead they told me insulting lies. They said I did not look pregnant or that my beach ball-sized belly was in fact, basketball-sized.

But the real reason that ubiquitous phrase of, "Oh my gosh, you look so tiny!" really made me mad was this: I was working my butt off trying to grow babies.
Do you know how many calories I had to take in every day? And I wasn't eating McDonalds. I spent almost all day preparing and eating a variety of healthy foods to keep my at-risk children growing. And it sucked.
It sounds great, right? For eating to be your full-time job? But it's not. Because I was tired, I was poor, I had heartburn and only a tiny bit of space in my body left for food- so I had to constantly be eating. All day, and often through night. (Pack those calories in whenever possible!)

So when people said, "You don't even look like you're having twins!" I was ready to stab them with the fork that I was probably holding.
When they said, "You're so tiny!" I panicked and thought, "Am I too tiny? Should I be bigger? Are the boys healthy? When's my next ultrasound, maybe something's wrong!"

Because I was pregnant.
And I looked pregnant.
And to tell me otherwise was an insult.

I will never tell a pregnant woman that she looks tiny.
In fact: let's not comment on each other's weight, okay? That seems like a basic rule of human interaction that is completely thrown out the window when there's a baby inside you. Suddenly, it's not only acceptable for your close friends to mention your pant-size, but for complete strangers to cross the street to come over and tell you that you're gigantic.

Here are some good things to say to pregnant women, "You look great!"
"You look so adorably pregnant."
"When are you due?" (NOT "When was your due date?" Or "Are you in labor?" Or "You look ready to pop!")

Sometimes it slips out of me. I say, "Oh you're so cute and little!"
Because little things are cute, obviously.
And I immediately regret it. I want to give a disclaimer: "Not that you're too little. Your belly isn't little, it's just the right size. You're just a little person with a little baby in your appropriately-sized belly."
But that seems worse, doesn't it?

Anyway. This post was brought to you by my desire to never have anyone tell me about the size of my stomach.
And when in doubt, people, err on the side of "Oh my gosh, your belly is huge!" because I appreciate that much more.
And it least it gives me interesting anecdotes.

Potty Training pt.1

I suspect there will be many parts to this theme.
I started talking about potty-training nearly a year ago, but the boys weren't quite ready. However, as they've gotten older and as I've anticipated this new baby, we've all gotten to the point that we're ready to be done with diapers. I just don't want three in diapers!

I kept waiting to start until a magical three-day weekend when Travis would be home, and we could work together to start potty-training. I was sure that I needed him there to chase one running, pee-streaming child while I inevitably scrubbed poop up off the carpet in some other corner of the house.
I feared the worst and needed an extra hand.
But two days ago, I woke up to two messy diapers and the realization that Travis would never have three days home with us (possibly ever), unless it's Christmas.
And we're not potty-training on Christmas.

So I pulled the potty-seats out to the living room, stripped my kids naked, and handed them each a large cup of milk and a large cup of juice.

That day (Tuesday), we started in the afternoon after naptime, so it was just long enough to introduce the idea of peeing in the potty (without anyone actually doing it.) Then diapers were back on at bedtime, and I vowed to do this for real.

Yesterday was straight-up awesome.
I'm sure that the reality of potty-training is going to be long and hard and full of poopy-pants, but yesterday was such an encouraging beginning to this journey!
I'm going to give you details, so I hope you're interested. If not, that's okay. Come back tomorrow. ;)

The boys got up at 7am, and I immediately stripped their pants and diapers off.  In the few instances that they've peed while naked (usually just before or after a bath), they're always so surprised. They might not even notice they're doing it right away, but look down and go, "Oh hey! I'm peeing!"
So I was pretty sure they didn't know what it felt like to pee. They never had to regulate it, so they didn't notice it happening.
That's why I decided to go all naked, so we could draw attention to peeing and what it felt like.

I gave the boys lots of juice and milk and salty snacks (like pretzels and crackers) to keep them drinking. We turned on a movie, and set the potty chairs in front of the television.
The boys didn't like sitting on the potties very much, so I set the oven timer for 15 minutes and just made them sit for 2 minutes every time it went off.

After about 45 minutes of being naked and drinking A TON of liquid, I couldn't believe no one had peed yet. I told them they needed to stay sitting on the potty until they peed, and there was mutiny. They started crying and whining. They both got up and ran away, and immediately peed on the floor.
I was ticked.

I know you're probably not supposed to scold your kids for having accidents (especially if this is the first time they've ever been told to pee on the toilet), but I was mad. I KNEW they'd been about to pee and I still had to clean it up.

I told them I was really angry, and pointed out the pee. I made them sit on the potties and watch me clean up, and then I made them wipe up the floor, too. All the while, I was giving a stern lecture that pretty much went, "It is not okay to pee on the floor. You are big boys and you need to pee in the potty. I told you to stay on the potty and you got up and peed on the floor. That was naughty. We should only pee in the potty now."
Then I listed off all the people we know that pee in the toilet. "Mom and Daddy pee in the potty. Uncle Jack and Uncle Tate pee in the potty. Babies pee in diapers, but you are not babies. You are big boys like your uncles, etc."

After that: no accidents.
At all.

Since I'd pumped them full of juice, and then startled them mid-pee with my scolding, they both still had to pee. While they were sitting on the little toilets listening to me rant, Micah peed! I made a really big deal out of it. We did a dance, we clapped and hurrayed! He got to put a sticker on his new chart, and he got to pick a piece of candy from his Halloween bucket.

Grey didn't care about any of that until he saw Micah pull a sucker out of his bucket.
"Where mine sucker? Where mine?!" he yelled.
"Micah got a sucker because he peed in the potty," I said. "You can have one if you pee in the potty, too."
The words were barely out of my mouth before Grey was sitting and peeing on his potty. He jumped up and yelled, "I did it! I get a sucker!"

After that, it seemed to click.
I still set the timer for them to sit on the potty every fifteen minutes, but by the afternoon they were totally ignoring it. They refused to go sit if they didn't have to pee, and likewise - they would jump off the couch and yell, "I gonna pee!" and run sit down, even if I hadn't reminded them.
I was the most impressed once when Grey sat down to pee and went. He jumped up and ran into the kitchen to put up a sticker, and then yelled, "I have to pee again!"
He ran back to his potty, but I hadn't emptied it out yet.
"Uh oh!" he yelled, "Clean it up quick!" Then he waited until I had emptied it out before sitting down and peeing.
They still wore diapers to bed, and Grey wore one at naptime (Micah requested underwear). They woke up dry from naps, but not bedtime.
After their naps yesterday, I wanted them to get on to the toilets right away, but they refused! I started panicking and set the timer to go off every five minutes so I could constantly remind them to pee, but still they insisted they didn't have to go.
About half an hour after they woke up, Micah announced he was ready to pee and shortly after that Grey did, too.
It certainly made me trust them more!

This morning we haven't had any accidents and the boys still refuse to sit when the timer goes off, but only sit when they have to go. They are still naked from the waist down, and if they haven't been in about 40 minutes, I remind them to go and offer them candy if they do and they almost always get down and pee on command. I'm so impressed!
They've pretty much forgotten about stickers and suckers already, both of which only lasted for the first morning, but they'll ask for some M&Ms or fruit snacks occasionally, and since they're being so good, I always comply!

Anyway, keep your fingers crossed that things continue to go so smoothly for us!

"It's a Magical World, Hobbes, Ol' Buddy,"

I'm not sure if it's because I grew up in Minnesota (well-known for it's snow and ice) or in spite of it, but every time little snowflakes start fluttering down, my heart starts beating like mad and I get jittery and excited. Snow!

Sure, it's a big, cold, wet pain but I love it. Waking up to that brand new, oft-unexpected winter wonderland always puts me in a good mood for the rest of the day. And I spend the day wanting to snuggle up on the couch with a cup of hot cocoa and a good ol' Calvin and Hobbes book. Calvin knows how to appreciate snow.

Yesterday morning, we woke up to 3 or 4 inches of snow! When Travis urged Micah to climb up and look out the window, he started yelling, "I did it! I did it! I make the snow!"

So, I guess that snow was thanks to my two year-old's wishful thinking. And I guess they're like their Mom, because both boys raced straight to the front door and started searching for their snowboots - despite the early hour, lack of breakfast, or obvious freezing cold.  We played outside for over an hour before I managed to get the boys inside. I was so hungry, but they kept begging to stay out. 

Micah even instructed, "You go eat, Mom. I stay out. I'm not cold!"

The above picture of Micah is my favorite. He told me that he was a "snow puppy."
Then, he built a snow puppy, by piling up snow (it wasn't sticky enough to make a proper snowman), and he pet it, and brought it handfuls of snow, saying "Here some food, Snow Puppy. Here some water."
Grey, meanwhile, went around stomping on all the drifts of snow and yelling, "Ha! I wreck Micah's Snow Puppy."
Um. Okay, bully.

I'm glad we got to spend the morning playing, since all the snow had melted by lunchtime. I know Halloween is barely over, but I can't help but want snow! I love it.
And, I'm sure you understand, I think I might like Snow Puppies more than anything else ever.

Happy Winter, my friends. Let the good times roll.

Baby Three

A couple weeks ago, Travis asked over Skype, "When are you going to spill the beans on your blog about being pregnant? I'm just surprised you haven't yet. I know how much you love all the attention."
What!?
I responded that announcing I was pregnant would take all the attention off me, and put it on to the baby and I didn't want the baby getting all my attention, but let's be clear: That was a joke.
He's right about one thing, though. I do love talking about this baby.
The weirdest thing about not having it up on the blog, was not sharing funny little stories and comments about the boys or Travis, or sharing any of the selfies I take to text to Travis and my Mom.
Like this one, when I inexplicably looked 5 months pregnant at like 10 weeks. Or this ultrasound, wherein you can't see anything interesting except that there's definitely only one baby.

And here are some of our little baby/pregnancy stories from lately:

Micah is 100% convinced that there is a baby in his belly.
He gets mad when I say otherwise. When asked if the baby is a brother or sister, he always says "sister."

Grey talks about the baby all the time, too. He likes to compare everything to a baby now.
"This mine tiny, baby football," he'll say, rocking a football in his arms and shushing it.  He'll tuck his digger into a blanket and whisper, "Ni-night baby digger, I love you."
Well, I'll take it.

A couple days after Travis and I had found out I was pregnant, a friend came to visit with her newborn baby. Travis and the boys were hiding away in my room from our guests, but before they left, I asked if I could bring the baby in to see them.
She was wrapped up tight and sleeping through all the noise.
"Look," I said, coming into the bedroom. "I brought you a baby to see."
Micah held out his arms, "I have that baby, Mom," he said.
I was really surprised, since they usually aren't into babies at all. I decided to let him try to hold the baby (with his Dad's help.)
"Oh, baby," Micah whispered, leaning close to her face. "Look, her tiny nose! Open your eyes, baby, wake up!"
He tried to gently open her eyes.
"Don't!" I said, "Just let her sleep. Can you see her ears?"
Grey scooted over and helped Micah locate the baby's ears, both of which were cooed and whispered over.
"Daddy!" Grey said in surprise, "Baby so soft hair." He kissed the top of her head without prompting.
And I melted into a big puddle.

Another friend recently had her baby. She came over a few days before the baby was born, and I pointed her stomach out to Grey.
"See? her belly is big, because there's a baby in it," I said. "Just like there's a baby in Mama's belly." Grey stared at Casey and whispered, "Her baby big?"
"Yep! and the baby in my belly will get big, too."

Less than a week later, I took the boys to visit the new baby at the hospital. I tried to explain that this was Casey's baby, and that he had come out of her belly and would live with them now.
Grey kept his little brow furrowed, and kept looking from the baby to Casey.
"Mom's baby come out, too?" he asked.
"Yes! When it's nice and big. First it has to grow in my belly."
When the nurse came to take the baby away for his hearing test, my kids panicked, "Where the baby? Baby come back!" they kept saying.
As we left the newborn ward, we stopped and peeked at the babies in the nursery.
"That one mine baby," said Micah, pointing at a baby.
"Do you want him to come home with us?" I asked.
"Oh, yes, please!"

I doubt that the boys will always be so sweet, and soft, and excited about a new baby actually coming to live with us. But I'm so happy that in the mean time, we can talk about the baby and they are starting to understand what I'm saying. I'm especially glad that so many of our friends are having babies!
I feel so grateful that I'm pregnant, that I'm almost embarrassed or ashamed to admit it to people. Especially since I know so many women who are struggling to get pregnant or have suffered miscarriages lately.
But yes.
There's a baby coming.
And it will be here at the end of April.

Photo a Day: Oct 27 - Nov 2

Well, we're home now from our long trip. 

When we got home on Friday, Micah ran into his room and squealed in delight. "Oh, look! Mine own bed! Look, Grey! Twinkle lights up in mine house!"

Every familiar thing was a delight to him, and to all of us. Our own beds? All the books and toys and clothes were exciting again after a month away from them. 

It's nice to be home. Editing pictures on my own computer. Freaking out about how gross my dusty bathroom is. Determining to clean and organize my desk this morning. 

Even though, I'm probably too tired and won't be able to do it. 

As you all know now, I'm pregnant. (!!!!) Which is why I get to take a nap every day when the boys nap.

However, my housework is falling quite behind. I am in especially awe of working moms lately, since I am here all day and still can't manage to wash clothes, the bathroom, and get dinner on the table. That two hour break from the boys in the afternoon is so necessary! 

I have to do everything while they're awake (it's only 10 am, and I just managed to get the third load of laundry for today into the washing machine), but then I'm even more exhausted by naptime! 

Ah well. 

At least I have a crockpot, so I can start dinner in the morning when I'm still (kind of) full of energy. And I have two little boys anxious to help, even if they usually make more of mess than they manage to clean up. 

Sun Oct 27: Snow! Grey was pretty distraught by the way it stuck to his boots. // Mon Oct 28:Sad Micah as a mouse. 

Tues Oct 29: The facepaint (again. And every day.) // Wed Oct 30: Little Lumberjacks.

Thurs Oct 31: Happy Halloween! // Friday Nov 1: Home again! And I'm 14 weeks along and already starting to show. 

 Sat Nov 2: This wonderful man's 30th birthday. I love him.
Look how cute he is!