ob-la-di

i think i have selective memory. is that what it's called? i should say selective positive memory. when i think back to the last (and only) two years with my twins, i have only fond memories. really. it's not like i see a montage of only beautiful peaceful moments where you hear "these are days" by 10,000 maniacs. but it's mostly just a general feeling of it hasn't been that hard. i mean, i can vaguely recall that i was sleepy on a consistent basis for the first one or two. or three. months. but ah. what's a little sleepiness, right? i can more readily recall the eighth month of life which revealed the oh-we're-so-big-time-with-this-crawling-bonkcry-thing-that-we-bonkcry-can-crawl-our-bonkcry-bad-selves-all-over-bonkcry-this-bonkcry-joint. bonkcry. that was a rough week. or two. but ah. what's a few bonkcries? no big. we all moved on. and way back when there was that labor thing. it hurt. and a c-section. it hurt. well, i didn't actually feel it. i was numb. but i knew it was happening with the out-of-body-someone-just-cut-into-my-abdomen-and-extracted-two-people experience. but i think it hurt a little after. but there were drugs. so really? no big. the thing is, i can't recall anything being that hard. but i know in my right, sane (sometimes) mind it was hard. of course it was hard. no experience and two babies. it was hard. but why do i look back and think ah, no big? it wasn't that hard? when i see someone with twin babies i kind of stop dead in my tracks. "uh. that looks sooo hard." um. like i don't know what that is like? why do i say it (to myself) like someone who has never had one kid. let alone two? maybe all of my singing ob-la-di, ob-la-da (thank you beatles) (and thank you that show with that girl. and chad lowe. life goes on! good one) really sunk in. i osmosised myself or subliminated myself (both made up, but you get it) into thinking no big. whatever this superpower is that i have developed, i hope it doesn't fail me now as i enter double two's. i'm not 22. nowhere close. i mean double two-year-olds. because i've been singing a lot lately. now they sing it with me. that's how i know.

bonkcry. no big.

f*ck

don't you love how i follow heartwarming warmth with this? well, i just wanted you to know. if you hear C say "f*ck off" he is actually saying forklift. i promise. sometimes he gets feisty/excited about the forklift so he shouts it a little. it's "fork. lift." i promise. also, if you hear R say "f*ck" she is actually saying "truck." well, she is actually saying "fruck" but she means "truck." i promise. and let us not forget the "peach" confusion. we review the proper pronunciations. a lot. i promise. besides, f*ck is not even one of my most favorite curse words. if they were mimicking, it would be something else. but. if you hear R or C saying "punk ass mother f*cker" well, that one is mine. all me. and if you hear me saying "punk ass mother f*cker" i am actually saying "punk ass mother f*cker." and you are probably driving too fast. or too slow. or you cut me off. or you're on my ass. and i'm going to stop now. this post is so sending me to hell that i feel compelled to wish you happy holidays so i can end on a good note.

happy holidays

love letters

dear C,
today you are two years old. or 24 months old. which means that two years ago today, you were in my tummy. actually you were in my pelvis. you staked your claim on the lower pelvis at about month seven and you weren't budging. hey, real estate is a good investment. most of the time. securing your 1/3 of the available space left a comfy 2/3 of space for your lovely sister, R. and she wasn't staying still. at. all. so you hunkered down. and on november 17, 2006 you were ready to vacate. move on. out. but R had other plans. since this day, you have seen that R sometimes has plans other than yours. and i'm sorry about that. but what's gonna work? teamwork! in the last year, which makes up a whopping 50% of your total life, i have seen this hunker down mentality continue. you zero in on what you like and you focus. lately you are really into trucks. you love the trucks. frequently when we're in the car you'll point them out. you even can tell the difference between diggers and bulldozers. cranes and loaders. what? who knew? now we all know. sometimes you'll follow your truck shout-out with a "big one." so we know it is a big digger. not a mini digger. which does also exist, we all now know. this year you have learned that if you lose an eyelash (of which you have at least 1 million and they flap like snuffleupagus) you get to blow on it and make a wish. your sweet "thank you" while touching your chin (saying and signing) couldn't be any cuter and i have yet to turn down a "please" request when you say it in this little sweet voice and rub your chest, signing. you always notice when R is not around. sometimes she bolts off to another room. sometimes that other room might be time-out. you want to be with her. you have a love of jumping up. and down. and off the bed. "good catch mommy." of course we'll do it again when you say that. you are a budding artist. you could spend all day with some paints. or play dough. or markers. or crayons. you love the stuff. you said your first sentence this year. "i did it." which has been said 3,596 times since. you are so proud when you do something yourself. what a joy you have been this year. you are the sunshine of my life. i love you. xoxo, mommy

dear R,
my sweet ladybug. today you are two years old. or as you would say "twoooooooo." two years ago you were in my tummy and you decided if you went with C's plan, you would be several minutes younger than him. that wouldn't do. you needed to get out as close to oldest as possible. so there you were. one minute later. one minute younger. one minute louder. you cooed for the first 48 hours of your life. the sweetest little coooooo. and you haven't been quiet very much since. you have a lot to say. or sing. lately you are really into the singing. and you. are. good. sister. you don't just sing. when you're singing, you're eyes sing. your hands sing. your face sings. your head sings. even your hair sings, somehow. and you know the words. to a lot of songs. your current hit list includes "my cherie amour" by stevie wonder (modified to include your name, of course), "lucky star" by madonna, and "maniac" by um, flashdance. because the actual singer is irrelevant. it was part of flashdance. one day you just kept singing "may (pause) may (pause) may (pause)" and your silly mommy and daddy couldn't figure out what you were singing. then it hit me. when you hit the "before" part. you're always a ringer at the end notes. and at the grand finales. you shake your head, give some jazz hands, and hit the big one. it's awesome. this year you went from walking to jumping with two feet and running circles around all of us. fast. you are really fast. you have this amazing giggle that comes from your tummy and brims through your face and seems almost too big for your little body. and i just want to record it and play it back over and over. you have rekindled your love with the swing. which you took about a year off from. now you love it again. sometimes in the yard you will stay on the swing for half an hour (telling mommy to sit in a chair to push you. or stand. or push your feet.). you really love C. when you go to get your drink you always bring C his. and when he is getting his diaper changed you will bring him toys or books. your first sentence, which was this year, was "whe's C?" you don't like when he is away. sometimes he sleeps a little longer than you at nap time and it is hard for me to keep you out of the room. sometimes i'll say "ok, let's go check on C. very quiet." and you will say "got. it." and then we go in and you run to C's crib and say (yell) "C!" you also love your friends. every single day you run through your list of people you love. friends, mommies, daddies, etc. eitan, elaine, caden, josha, lauren, pilar, jason, chuck (cat), linus (cat), grammi, papa, florida, bryce, sister (ivy), jo, ryan, baby (colin). you remember everything. every little detail. you have really developed a love and appreciation for shoes this year. if someone's shoes are left on the floor, you go and get them and either give them to the person to put on or you put them on yourself. but someone must wear them. you can just flip through magazines and look at pictures of shoes. or babies. or anything. you also are into your doll's stroller, which you have loaded up with several purses on either side. this year you have been a bright, shining star for me. i love you. xoxo, mommy

never was a t-shirt girl

i never liked to wear t-shirts. except when the sorority pressure (let's call them raisin girls) made me wear a kappa delta t-shirt at least two times a week. and since then i haven't looked back. good riddance. i just don't like them. but now. i am finding that i now might be a t-shirt girl. it's hard to shop for clothes. i need comfortable. washable. ok to get dirt/spit/foodparticles/maybe pee/poop/spitup (on a bad day). things are getting kind of gross. this is a whole new thing. and i am just realizing it. my fashion conscious working in an officeness has been muffled. gone to the other side. i think i have just become lazy. i want to do what is easy. and i don't want to invest. so i will purchase the same tank top in four different colors. thought that was a good solution. but now i'm annoyed. but i don't want buttons. don't want to iron (my iron is currently giving birth to it's very own dustbunnies). i also no longer know what is acceptable for my wearing pleasure. i mean. i never have been an inappropriate dresser. i'm not saying i'm trying to do midriff and miniskirts. but should i be shopping in the junior's department? i think i should. but maybe i shouldn't. it reminds me of when i was a babysitter at the age of 14 and mrs. batsel picked me up. we were wearing the same skirt. even at 14 i knew that was not cool. mrs. batsel should not have been shopping in the junior's department. or at the ups and downs. [sigh] ups and downs! but now here i am. it's quick. it's cheap. it's washable. i'm 33. recently was in the fitting room and the lovely 17-year-old employee popped in to check on me. "that dress looks so good on you." "yeah. i think it is a little young for me." "well you could wear it, like, when you're going out or something." oh honey. goodbye dress. the other problem is that i find myself drawn to trendy clothing that is so freaking cute. um. so freaking cute FORMYTWOYEAROLD. what is my trendinessability (made up) anymore? what am i doing? that is cute. FOR R. stop the insanity. i don't need this many ruffles. why do i like ruffles? are ruffles appropriate for a 33-year-old? i don't know anymore. i think my age/profession/mommyness are crashing together and causing a fashion identity crisis. what if this is a continuation of the bangs crises of february 2008? or the bebe crisis of may 2008? or maybe the bratz crisis of july 2008? wait a second. this could be the cumulative impact. this is not really happening. but you know what is happening? my new fingerless sweater gloves. they're awesome. i know. you're not supposed to repeat trends. but i was not wearing the fingerless gloves in 1988. i wanted to. but i didn't. so now i will wear them. damnit. this is not really happening.

you bet your life it is.

p.s. thank you if you sung cornflake girl in your head (or out loud) while reading this post

and then

your sister sends the most perfect card. because she knows you. or she knows herself. or she knows you both. it reminds me of us. and it reminds me of R. she twirls. she laughs. she shakes her hair like a pantene commercial. she loves shoes. she puts her hand in the air and says "taxi" (thank you urban babies wear black). she loves nothing more than a good mirror. or a good book. she loves to be rocked in your arms while you're singing a stevie wonder song in her honor and she'll concentrate so intently on your mouth so she sees every syllable. every pause. and then she'll sing it herself tomorrow. she knows the words. and it gets me thinking how i can't wait for her to be all of the amazing women in our family. and how she already is. all of them wrapped into one. and what that means is giving, feisty, thoughtful, hard-working, dainty, tough, independent, strong, loving, dramatic, funny, strong-willed, smart. and a little bit bossy.