My Son, Jon

Well, the day has come.

 

I honestly can't believe it did.

 

I thought I had more time.

 

My son, Jonathan, who we've affectionately nicknamed "Jack," now wants to be called "Jon." And he's breaking his mama's heart!

 

Jonathan is my firstborn. Except I've never had to tell him that. He proclaims himself to be the leader and Ben gladly follows. The other day, he told me that he was the boss. Surprised, I asked him to repeat himself. Then seeing my smile and raised eyebrows, he added, "I am the boss when I am a daddy."

 

He's three, folks.

 

We knew that he was serious about his name-change when his Sunday school materials came back today with his new desired name written on the back. I almost cried.

 

My little brother was fifteen when he decided to make the switch from Daniel to Dan. I remember being sad, hoping he'd change his mind and not sure if it would ever feel right. Eight years later, though, and it feels just fine.

 

My smart, inquisitive, determined and "I want to do it the right way, Mom" firstborn is making his own way. In a very three-year-old sense, he is asserting his independence. He wants to be called Jon and so I will try my hardest to accomodate (even though I will secretly be praying that he does change his mind!)

 

In the meantime, this is my son, Jon:

 

No matter what I call him, he will always be mine.

Venturing Out Into the World

As I've said before, I love getting out with my kids. As much as I would classify myself as a "stay at home mom," I'm definitely more of a "get out and venture into the world with my kids while also maintaining some kind of order at home" kinda mom.

 

Oh, I get looks. Lots of looks. When you see identical twins walk into a store, of course you give them a second glance. You wonder how similar they look, if they are indeed twins and how they're different. I get that. But you wouldn't believe some of the facial expressions that come my way when I enter a store. Disgust, curiosity, amazement and perhaps a little bit of insanity. I'm trying not to be so sensitive about it. Can you tell? ;) It's just a side effect of having twins. I know my kids are super cute. Go ahead, give 'em a look. Point and stare at their long eyelashes. They're adorable, I know. At least that's what I tell myself they're saying.

 

When I had Megan, the looks got even more frequent. And expressive. You'd think I had four heads and three arms with how obvious people are with their double-takes. Yes, I have three children. Yes, two of them are twins. Yes, they are identical. Yes, I am proud to have 'finally' gotten a daughter. No, I am not some kind of breeding experiment gone wrong. Geesh. An older gentleman in McDonald's saw me enter the restaurant a few weeks ago with the boys holding onto my jeans pockets (a rule we have for crossing a parking lot) and the baby on my hip. As I tried manuevering my crew to the restroom, he gruffed, "Ya got enough kids there?" I was so appalled by the abrasive nature of his comment - especially when my kids were behaving so well - that I responded with a straight face, "Oh, this is nothing. I've got five more in the car." That shut him up.

 

One of the best comments I've received came from a middle-aged woman in the grocery store last winter when I was pregnant with Megan. She pointed to my boys and then pregnant belly and joked, "Girlie, if I were you, I'd sleep with one eye open." It still makes me laugh out loud!

 

But I digress.

 

I like taking my kids out with me, so I have to be intentional about how I want them to act. I thought I'd share some of the things that seem to work with my kids, making them pleasant to be around when we're out in public... most of the time anyway. ;)

 

First thing: we talk about it. As we're getting our shoes on, getting into the car and driving to our destination, I tell them what will happen and how they're supposed to act. "Okay, we're going to the library today. We're going to borrow some new books and DVDs! What do we do when we're in the library?" We talk about how we have to be quiet, walk and not yell or they will ask us to leave.

 

Second thing: we joke about what we're NOT going to do. I sorta started this on accident because I felt like all I was doing was lecturing my kids about what they should do. I started being silly about the behavior I would NOT expect from them. "When we go into the library, are we going to run around the bookshelves and throw the books into the air?" NOOOO! "Are we going to hit the computer with our boots and do somersaults on the floor?" NOOOO! "Are we going to yell at our brother and hit him in the head with a video?" NOOOO! All of this is received with uncontrollable laughter. They get it. And they always ask for more. "Mom, tell more jokes!"

 

They know what to do, they know what not to do. So now, comes praise.

 

This is the last thing. I praise them like crazy. The moment I see them do something I asked, I jump on it. "Uhh! Benjamin! You're whispering in the library! What a good listener you are. Everyone will be so happy you're being quiet so they can read their books." "Jack, you held the door open for me without me even asking. What a gentleman you are! That is so helpful to me when I'm holding Megan!"

 

It sounds silly, but it totally works. Sometimes, they'll ask me to call Daddy to tell them that they were being a gentleman, a concept he started encouraging a few months ago. So I do as soon as we get into the car. If he's not available to talk, we call my mom, my dad, my sister, anyone that will answer their phone so I can brag on my proud toddlers. And. They. Love. It.

 

I suppose I forgot to mention this one. It's a biggie. When I'm in the store, the library, the museum, wherever, my total attention is on them. I don't talk on the phone, I try to shop quickly and move fast. I keep them stimulated in conversation (or with a game of "I Spy") so they don't get bored and start making trouble. Trust me, that can happen quickly. Just give me one minute of looking up a recipe on my phone and I've got two boys spitting on eachother and pulling their brother's hair.

 

Alright, I forgot another one. Perhaps I should have organized my thoughts a little better before I started this post, huh? Always keep an ace in your pocket. Not literally, but figuratively. Give them something to look forward to when they do well. And be prepared NOT to give it to them if they don't. It doesn't have to be food and it doesn't have to be expensive. "Boys, if you are good listeners today, when we get home, I will make each of you your own paper airplane." or "If you act like a gentleman this morning when we're at the store, we can fingerpaint before your nap." or "If you keep your socks on in McDonald's Playplace today, I will give you your Happy Meal toy when I buckle you into your carseat." And believe it or not, they go for it. It seems to work well when I give them something to look forward to. Something I know they like.

 

I should have also prefaced this with the fact that we DO have meltdowns in public. Gosh, I really should have written an outline before I started this post. Hope I haven't lost you completely. We have bad days. We have crying fits. We have impromptu wrestling matches in the middle of Target. It happens. In those cases, I just try to keep my eyes down and get out as quickly as possible. When I have a moment to recollect my thoughts (usually, when they're sleeping,) I try and reevaluate what I could have done differently and make a plan for next time. Well, that and usually a good venting session with my husband :)

 

I like getting out of the house. I like being with my kids. These ideas help make both scenarios possible. 

 

Because as we all know, "If Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."

25 Things You Didn't Know About Me

I'm so glad my dad broke the ice with his post yesterday. It has been such a long time since I sat down to blog that I had felt overwhelmed, not sure of where to begin!

 

And since there have been many changes in the past few months, I thought I might further break the ice by writing a list of things you may (or may not) already know about me. You may not find them interesting, but it will give you an idea of what I'm all about. And appreciate just how... uh... unique I am.

1. I was teaching sixth-grade social studies at a public middle school when I met my husband. He was the adorable aide that walked through my hallway between third and fourth periods every day. It was the time I was most faithful with my hall duty responsibilities! He introduced himself to me, asking where the library was. I had to make a really quick decision: he's either really bad with directions (the library was right around the corner,) or he was just desperate for a quick pick-up line. Either way, it worked. I was smitten from the first time I saw him standing in my classroom doorway. Almost seven years later and I still swoon when he calls my name.
2. I've always wanted to be a mom. Jack, Ben and Megan are phenomenal kids and I learn so much about God, life and hope from their existence. And I really really love being home with them. Truth be told, though, I do miss my health insurance benefits.
3. I have this crazy obsession about keeping my hands dry. I don't know if I've always been this way; perhaps I've only noticed since having kids. I buy Bounty select-a-size paper towels in bulk and I'd be embarrassed if anyone knew how many rolls I go through a month.
4. I love my new house. Like LOVE my new house. Not that it's super amazing or anything, but the fact that it's in my hometown, in the burbs, and it has a kitchen overlooking the backyard. Marrying a city boy almost five years ago, I never thought he'd consent to living anywhere except surrounded by buildings and sidewalks. But that changed about eight months ago when Andy found this house - in the ONE neighborhood he said he wouldn't mind living - for sale. Honestly. Just amazing. My city slicker now owns a riding mower, a snowblower and has a three minute commute to work. I'm telling you. It's a dream come-true.
5. I have zero self-control when it comes to eating sweets. Zero. Zilch. If there are sweets in my house, I will eat them. Especially Oreos and chocolate. And ice cream. And cookies. Did I miss anything?
6. I'm thirty one years old and I still bite my nails. I find this very annoying. Unlike dieting, which you can start over after every meal, it takes months to start again after a big nail biting. Aye. I'm a work in progress.
7. I'm shamelessly addicted to Diet Coke.
8. Andy and I were on Weight Watchers last year and I lost all of my baby weight in just a few months! (I reached the weight I was when I first met my husband - it's just distributed a lot differently now.) We ate tons of vegetables, I was packing lunches the night before and we prepped all of our meals for the week. The holidays arrived, however, and I struggled to stay healthy. It's the cookies! I blame it ALL on the cookies!
9. I'm afraid to try coffee. And cappucino. And other legal stimulants. Mostly because I'm pretty sure I'd like them and would add yet another thing to my list of obsessions. I already have a long list of obsessions. I'm not really interested in making it longer just yet.
10. Since we moved, we are now dangerously close to Fro Yo Culture, a frozen yogurt shoppe that allows you to pour your own yogurt and toppings and you pay by the ounce. Hearing words like "live cultures" and "probiotics" give me permission to load up on the chocolate chips and peanut butter cups, as long as I add some strawberries to keep it healthy.
11. I'm a little worried how many of these posts have to do with food.
12. My three-and-a-half year old boys are ridiculously cheap to entertain. They don't even play with toys (well, unless you count blocks, cars and sports equipment.) Want to be their best friend? Ask if they want some tape, scissors, markers, paint, straws, pipe cleaners, beads, sticks or rocks. Out of those things, they will make a sword. Every time.
13. I love taking my kids out with me. I never left the house during the boys' first year (because I pumped breastmilk exclusively - definitely don't recommend that!) so I'm making up for lost time. We have memberships to the zoo, science museum, play museum and we visit our library every single week. It's rare that I'm home two mornings in a row. I don't know what I love most: getting out of the house, having real-life conversations with my boys about their surroundings or watching people's reactions to me manuevering with identical twins at my ankles and a baby on my hip. I could write a book, the comments I get... and that's when my kids are being good!
14. I don't really watch television, but I love my computer.
15. My iPhone is the coolest piece of technology I own. My Canon EOS 60D SLR is a close second. That's a really cool camera, for those of you taking notes.
16. I google almost everything. How to boil an egg, what's the best sugar cookie recipe, and is it normal that my 9-month old is still getting up multiple times a night? How did my mother survive without access to the information highway? I should be so much more messed up than I am ;)
17. There are sooo many things I love doing: taking pictures, making (mostly digital) scrapbooks, stamping cards, computer formatting and party planning. The moment money is involved, however, it steals all my fun. I've been taking engagement photos for my cousins who've gotten engaged over the past few years. I've done five so far. This year, I will add three more to the list. And I absolutely love it. I make it a rule to only photograph beautiful people. That way, people will think my pictures are phenomenal.
18. I don't consider myself a writer, but rather, one who enjoys writing. I'm not a cartoonist, but rather, one who enjoys drawing caricatures. I'm not a photographer, but rather, one who enjoys taking pictures. I like dabbling in a lot of things, but I'm not good enough at any one thing to be considered a professional. I don't like being put in a box.
19. My car used to be really really clean. Always organized, stocked with the essentials, and nothing on the floor. I used to tease my mom about her car. "If you just took everything into the house each time you come in, your car would stay clean!" I'd scold her. That was before kids. Now, at any given moment, we could eat for a week with all the food crumbs under the seats. I'm just trying to embrace it. I'm sorry, Mom. I totally get it now.
20. My husband is the most talented person I know. There isn't anything he can't do. This is our third dwelling he has fixed up to my liking (in all three places, he built laundry on the second floor!) and is a hard worker. He has a great perspective on life and a wonderful sense of humor. He's the guy you want to invite to your party: he'll make sure everyone has a good time and is comfortable. He brings out the best in me. Even with all of the responsibility he carries, he is never too busy for his kids and supports me in things I love to do. I am one lucky, lucky gal.
21. I can get so much more stuff done around the house when my boys are home to entertain Megan. Seriously. You wouldn't think so, but since they are obsessed with their nine-month-old sister (and she with them,) I can leave the room to put in a load of laundry or take a shower as long as they're there to entertain her. I'm starting to get worried about this fall, when my boys will go to Pre-K. This baby is going to miss her big brothers. I will miss them, too. I just wish they would stop trying to pick her up. She's only nine pounds lighter than their skinny selves and she topples over almost every single time. The sound of that infectious laugh would keep me coming back for more, though, too.
22. Andy and I were ecstatic when we found out we were pregnant for the first time. We found out they were twins at our 12 week sonogram. Andy jumped up and down. I cried. I had planned for ONE baby. Not two. I'm not sure if these points illustrate it at all, but I don't handle change extremely well. I stopped teaching at 20 weeks and spent the rest of the pregnancy at home. Again, NOT part of the plan. But I am so grateful for God's provision. Having two healthy babies born at 38 weeks (6.5 and 7.7 pounds) was such a wonderful blessing. I'm still enjoying these two healthy boys, though I'm always amazed how two little beings can make so much of a mess. They are the brightest parts of my day. I love the fact that I can't listen to the radio in the car because Jack is always asking questions and that Ben will give his coveted toy to his brother whenever he asks. I am extremely proud of my kids. They are, by far, my greatest achievement.
23. The first hole I wore into the knee of my jeans was a year ago. Funny, I had to be a mom, playing on the floor with my kids, before I ruined any of my clothes! Growing up, my sisters mowed the lawn and filled propane tanks (for my dad's business.) I, on the other hand, was given "inside work." I'm just not a rough kinda girl!
24. My boys tried sushi before I did. And loved it. It's one of our family favorites now! I especially liked how they said "spicy sushi."
25. When I sleep, I always need to have a blanket. Even in the summer. I loooove to be warm. I blame it on the fact that my dad owned a home-heating company. Andy's dad used to refuse to turn on the heat until November 1st. Yeeeeeah, that's not gonna work for me. I don't care if it's in the middle of July. If I'm cold, the heat's going on! That's how I know Andy loves me; he lets me turn up the heat as much as I want. Hey, it's for the kids, right?

Okay, there you have it: you now know more about me than you would ever care to know! Tune in next time to read my top twenty pet peeves!

 

Just kidding.

 

Or am I? ;)

"Boy Wanted"

This entry was written by my co-author. My dad.

 

Donna and I were very happy with three little girls. Actually, I was afraid to have a boy. Then one day, one showed up. We used to read, “Boy Wanted” to him occasionally from William Bennett’s, Book of Virtues (below) as soon as he was able to understand it.

 

Girls naturally become civilized as they grow up but boys need to be taught to be civilized. With all the confusion about what manhood should look like in our society, boys need direction. For example, we used to ask him how many children he would like to have when he grew up. This encouraged him to look into the future and to see himself as a grown up. Gratefully, he is all grown up now and has his mother’s gentle temperament. He remains a “boy wanted”.

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Boy Wanted
This "want ad" appeared in the early part of [the 20th] century.

WANTED - A boy that stands straight, sits straight, acts straight, and talks straight;
A boy whose fingernails are not in mourning, whose ears are clean, whose shoes are polished, whose clothes are brushed, whose hair is combed, and whose teeth are well cared for;
A boy who listens carefully when he is spoken to, who asks questions when he does not understand, and does not ask questions about things that are none of his business;
A boy that moves quickly and makes as little noise about it as possible;
A boy who whistles in the street, but does not whistle where he ought keep still;
A boy who looks cheerful, has a ready smile for everybody, and never sulks;
A boy who is polite to every man and respectful to every woman and girl;
A boy who does not smoke cigarettes and has no desire to learn how;
A boy who is more eager to know how to speak good English than to talk slang;
A boy that never bullies other boys nor allows other boys to bully him;
A boy who, when he does not know a thing says, "I don’t know," and when has made a mistake says "I’m sorry," and when he is asked to do a thing says "I’ll try";
A boy who looks you right in the eye and tells the truth every time;
A boy who is eager to read good books;
A boy who would rather put in his spare time at the YMCA gymnasium than to gamble for pennies in a back room;

A boy who does not want to be "smart" nor in any wise attract attention;

A boy who would rather lose his job or be expelled from school than to tell a lie or be a cad;

A boy whom other boys like;

A boy who is at ease in the company of girls;

A boy who is not sorry for himself, and not forever thinking and talking about himself;

A boy who is friendly with his mother, and more intimate with her than anyone else;

A boy who makes you feel good when he is around;

A boy who is not a goody-goody, a prig, or a little pharisee, but just healthy, happy, and full of life;

This boy is wanted everywhere. The family wants him, the school wants him, the office wants him, the boys want him, the girls want him, all creation wants him.

Source unknown
Quoted in The Children's Book of Virtues
by William J. Bennet

 

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This is our son, Dan and his wife Lydia dancing their first dance as husband and wife last July:

 

 

One of Those Days

Have you ever had one of Those Days?

I know you know what I'm talking about.

Those Days where you wish you could rewind the clock. Do it over again. And yet there's a part of

you that would rather a fast-forward button to get it all over with and end the evening with a large chocolate milkshake, a movie and a pedicure.

Yeah, in my dreams.

Well, today was one of Those Days.

It's not like I didn't have a few clues. Warning signs to say, "Stop! Turn around! You're headed into dangerous water!" I did. And yet, I didn't listen.

Today I took the kids to the zoo with my cousin. The first clue that this might have been a bad idea was when Jack insisted on seeing the “seebas,” or zebras. Like NOW. And he was insistent. It wasn’t a huge deal to change our course, though it did seem to mess with our rhythm. We go to the zoo about once a week. We’ve got a route that we follow. And our normal route doesn’t necessarily go by the zebras. But I figured, “Hey, why not?” And so we did. Now I’m sorta wishing I hadn’t.

The second clue was when another mom had to tell me that my son (Jack) had climbed to the other side of the rhinoceros fence. You know, no big deal. Not that my son was in danger of falling down the 20-foot drop that separated him from one of the largest vegetarians at the zoo or anything. That was my second clue. And I missed it.

The third clue involved a sandwich with pickles and the mulch on a playground. Use your imagination.

But the point where I realized I had come too far was when we passed a sprinkler, watering the flowers. The boys insisted on going into it. I refused. They cried. They made a scene. I threatened them. They cried some more. I kept walking, Ben pulled on the stroller. Screaming as if I had been pulling out his toenails, one at a time. People are watching – appalled, I’m sure – wondering how this woman had been allowed to breed. I kept my eyes down and my mind focused on my new goal: leaving.

But even after the decision has been made to make as swift of an exit as possible, this is not an immediate thing. If I had a transporter, this would have been the time to use it. We still had a ten-minute walk out of the zoo and that doesn’t even count for the street we have to cross in order to get to our van. Ben, at this point, was screaming uncontrollably, pulling on my stroller, and demanding me to wait for him. Into oncoming walking traffic. So what did I do? I just kept walking. As much as I could. With him in one arm, the baby on my chest and pushing the stroller ahead of me. I just had to keep on walking until we got to a spot where I could sit down and see what was the matter.

Well, he calmed down eventually. But it took a while. Much longer than I would care to admit. I teased with my cousin, it’s a good thing my kids look like me – at least a little – or else people would think I was kidnapping these kids! Or even better, torturing them!

I was so grateful when we made it to the car and I was able to harness the boys into their car seats. But not until Jack fell and spilled his water on the sidewalk; yup, that was a minor catastrophe. With the promise of getting more water at home, though, we trudged on. Naps were difficult, but at least they happened.

So, yeah. I had warning signs. Clues that this was not going to be our best day in public. In the heat. Too close to naptime. While trying to visit with someone else. Nope, not our best day. And yet, I’m hoping they take a long enough nap to shake it all off because we’re going to a birthday party tonight!

I guess I’ve always been a glutton for punishment.

Modern-Day Miracle

Sometimes, we're so involved in our own little worlds that we can get overconfident. Cocky. Thinking that we are the ones in control and making good things happen.

Wrong.

This afternoon, I witnessed a miracle. A full-fledged, modern-day miracle.

I took all three sleeping kids from the van and successfully transferred them into their sleeping arrangements when we got home. And they all stayed asleep. Or went back to sleep, rather.

I may not move mountains. But my God sure does! Wooohoo!

They've Got Big Shoes to Fill

Oh, So True

Three Little Loves

Ben, Jack and Megan - my new favorite picture

A Reason to Bake

I think I broke up at least three fights today. At least. And one of them was while I was nursing. And by breaking up, I mean physically pulling two toddlers off of eachother to keep their skin in tact and us out of the emergency room.

And the hardest part? It can come out of nowhere.

Jack and Ben will be playing nicely together, hitting the ball back and forth, even taking turns. Then one of them decides it's their turn, but their brother doesn't agree. The first brother then launches an all-out attack against his sibling, running him over, tackling him to the ground and reaching for any skin to scratch or bite.

And it's not one brother over another. They take turns. Multiple times a day.

We pull them apart, talk to them about how else to handle the problem, how important it is to use our words... but we still find ourselves settling these disputes more than we ever did before.

It's difficult to tell whether or not this is a direct result of the baby. Things have been in a constant state of transition since Megan arrived, and as much as we've tried to keep things consistent, they know things are different now that we've added another member to our family.

Andy and I talk aaaaaallll the time about new strategies to give the boys the structure they so desperately need. We stress over whether or not we're doing the right thing, if we're allowing them too much freedom or how to give them more responsibility. We question our routine and whether the boys need more variety. We wonder if we're being too rough or too easy. We praise their positive efforts generously and try very hard to see that we're treating them as inviduals and not as much as a "set."

Yeah, we talk a lot.

And amongst it all, we easily get discouraged. It's hard work, this whole parenting gig! Add a newborn to the equation as well as a mom who's nursing (for the first time, really) and not getting a whole lot of sleep, is recovering from major abdominal surgery and whose emotions were always a big rollercoaster ride even before the baby arrived and you've got a recipe for discouragement!

And yet, life goes on.

After dinner tonight, I asked the boys if they wanted to help me make cookies. We had sort of run out of inside activities for the boys to do and since I KNEW they would be excited about helping me in the kitchen (and I was craving white chocolate chip macademia nut cookies!) I felt like it was a win-win.

They helped (and I use the word "help" veeeery loosely) me scoop the ingredients into the bowl and mix everything together. "DAD!" they yelled from the kitchen, "we makin' you tookies!" After they rolled the dough into balls and put them on the cookie sheet, I suggested we wash our hands again to get all of the dough off. I poured some water into the sink and squeezed a dollop of soap into each of their hands. Supervising the amount of splashing, I tried not to get discouraged about the fact that they both wanted to do it at the same time... that almost always leads to fights. I noticed Jack's hands go on top of Ben's, but before I had a chance to separate them, I realized that Ben wasn't upset by it. I decided to wait and see.

Jack was helping Ben. He was running his hands down Ben's, washing all of the dough off and into the sink. That's exactly what I do when I help them wash their hands after finger-painting (or more appropriately, HAND-painting.) I almost broke out in tears. Watching how gently Jack was helping his brother, especially after such a difficult day, was so encouraging. Once it was obvious that Ben's hands were clean, I suggested they finish up and dry their hands. "No, I'm keeping him warm," Jack told me. That boy is the best at coming up with new ways to stall, but it was so sweet I couldn't argue. A few seconds later, Ben said, "Okay, Jack, that 'nuff," and he obeyed.

I'm sure there are things we could be doing differently. Better. Gosh, there will ALWAYS be things for us to improve. But little incidences like this one tonight help remind me of one simple fact: I have boys. Two of them, in fact. And they happen to be the same age. They're not even three years old yet - in many ways, they're still babies! They fight. They play. They forgive, they forget, they love. We will continue to do what we can, but I'm going to have to keep reminding myself of these facts when we get discouraged. They're brothers.

It will take us years to perfect this whole parenting thing. Honestly, we may never get it even 75% right. But we will still try. In the meantime, I'm thinking we're going to be making a whole lotta cookies.