Stay Little

As I put the ice in my cup to go to bed tonight, something flashed through my mind....

I remember your little head fitting in my hand. Holding you, swaying you and shushing you for an hour to get you to fall asleep. Walking you down the hall to your room in my bare feet, taking small, smooth, even steps as not to wake you. Keeping my hands on you after laying you down, slowly lessening the pressure until I was able to back out of your room, afraid the sound of my feet on the carpet fibers would wake you. Nana following close behind, another baby in her arms, duplicating my motions.

Then Nana and I would talk quietly in the dark, 3 rooms away. Making a plan for the night. We would get our water for bed, afraid the sound of the ice cubes in the cups would wake you, and sometimes they did. If it did, we would sigh and start over.

Now you are big. When I say it's time for bed, you run down the hall, your doll and stuffed dog in hand, arguing only about who gets to go first.

When it is time for you to go to your separate rooms, you need a kiss, a hug, another hug. "Night night, brother." "Love you."

You know, those late nights on the couch when I felt like I couldn't sway you anymore, this is what I dreamed of. The day you would be big enough to walk to your room, to wrap your arms around my neck and say, "I love you, Mommy".

Now I wish I could stop time. Snuggle you more. Laugh and splash more. Wash your hair and give you a scalp massage instead of rushing to get you in your jammies. I wish there was more chance to let you "help" in the kitchen. More time for you to tell me what is on your mind, even when it doesn't make sense to me as anything other than excited ramblings. More time to pick out the right book to read. More time with each of you individually.

As much as I love seeing you play together and work things out as a team, I cherish the fleeting moments I steal with you each when it's just you and me.

There's so much time to be big..... I wish you could just stay little.

Off The Radar

Recently I had a revelation. I don't like Facebook. Maybe this is a temporary feeling, maybe it isn't. Time will tell.

I have been on it for years, since back when nobody aside from college kids had heard of it. Of course now it is so commonplace that most people have an account. And that is reflected in the fact that I have (or had) over 450 "friends".

On several occasions, I tried to pare down my list of friends, but it was difficult for me to virtually erase people from my life because I do actually know all these people. Friends from grade school, distant family, business associates, former classmates, friends from the prostate cancer community, fellow widows,  friends and old classmates of Tim's, people within my social circle.... I felt bad deleting them.

Facebook takes too much time. For it to be an enjoyable experience in which you are participating, you need to interact with people - post things, respond to the posts of others, keep your photos up to date, etc. That was time that I would rather be spending with my "real" friends - the ones who will take the time to call, text or email ME, just me, just to see how I am. That time is better spent with A&A, laughing or going on a walk. Reading up on something I would like to know more about. Pretty much anything.

At some point I realized that by being on Facebook, I was causing myself to feel as though I was living in a fishbowl. People could see what was going on in my life at will, and I didn't even know they were watching. And by looking in on the lives of all these "friends" I started to feel like a voyeur. I had so much information floating around in my head about people with whom I had not spoken in earnest in years. Sometimes decades. It just didn't feel right anymore.

There were times I felt envious of other people's vacations or the simplicity of what I viewed as their "freedoms". Times I felt excluded when an event I had attended was talked about and my attendance wasn't mentioned. Rarely were the times when I felt that my time on FB was well spent or that I walked away feeling better than I arrived.

Standing in a line or waiting in a waiting room, instead of striking up a pleasant conversation with a stranger and having a face to face conversation where I could learn something interesting, I would pull out my phone and look at Facebook. It feels silly now when I say it.... an embarrassment, really.

In the last month of Facebook free living, I have gotten more phone calls from my "real" friends than I have in the previous 6 months combined. I have emailed people, even sent and received actual mail.

Since leaving, several people who have actually noticed my absence have asked me about it. The assumption seems to be that because I have chosen to disconnect, something must be wrong. To that I reply that it is just the opposite. I am both content and happy. My children and I are blessedly healthy. I have a wonderful man in my life who loves me. I get to spend time with his kids doing fun things. And now more of my time can be dedicated to them, and not divided among my 450+ "friends".

It feels good to be free and anonymous.

My Little People

"Anson, can Mommy have a hug?"
"No."
"A kissy?"
"No."
"Ayla, can I have a kissy?"
"Hahaha... Nooo."

I think this is a sign that we are approaching 2. Is 2 really going to be "terrible"? Trying, maybe, but I can't imagine anything being terrible with these kids. A&A are growing and learning so much about the world around them. Learning to recognize their wants and needs, knowing what they do and do not want to do in any given moment in time.

"Do you want to go night night?"
"No."

Five minutes later.... "Mama, night night? Up."

At the table..... "Take a bite, you'll like it!"
"Mmmmm. Num num! More? Please?"
(Apparently they know how much I love when people compliment my cooking. That was one of my favorite things about Tim, he always complimented my cooking, especially in front of other people - bonus points!)

One of the things I am most enjoying is observing them learning to pretend. Every time they have the opportunity to play in a pretend kitchen, they love it. They pretend to cook and eat and put away dishes. (Santa is taking notes about this interest.) They have a small stroller at home and enjoy putting a "baby" in it and pushing it around, pausing to tend to the baby, giving her kisses and carrying her intermittently.

When we venture out, they point out babies, excitedly announcing their presence, just in case the mommy hadn't noticed that little bundle in her cart. Their baby pictures hanging on the wall are also more noticed now and they call their own small selves "baby!".

Recently they watched their first movie. They have seen other things before, but never paid attention like they did when I put on the Lion King. They both stopped and stared, standing in awe of the TV for some time before finally both climbing up on the couch with me to watch the entire film. I couldn't believe they would watch a whole movie like that, but they loved seeing the animals and naming them. (Although there were a LOT of "doggies" in their opinions.) Animals are of special interest now.

I was writing down on a calendar each time one of them learned a new word. Now the new words are flying out so fast I can't keep track. Anson even told me, "Mommy, come here" the other day. They tell each other "No, stop!" pretty frequently - I guess that's probably par for the course with twins.

I'm constantly amazed with the things they know, the things they are learning. No longer babies, I am impressed with the the amazing little people they are.

Lightning Striking Twice?

"Lightning never strikes twice."

That quote was in my mind after Tim died a lot. I mean, I never imagined that I would love a man as amazing as Tim. He was so good to me, truly teaching me the meaning of "how you deserve to be treated". I'm not just one of those widows who makes their late husband into a perfect person after he is gone - ask anyone who knew him - he was pretty close to perfect. He would deny being perfect, instead telling me that, "I'm just perfect for you."

So when Tim was gone, I pretty much convinced myself that I'd had the last of the Good Men out there and that I was destined to be alone or at best, with someone mediocre. And you know what, I was okay with that because I knew I'd had the best already. To expect, or even hope, for that to happen twice would be just plain greedy.

How did it happen, then, that instead I met someone wonderful? Was he a gift? A gift from Tim? A birthday gift from Tim? He always did love giving a good gift. Who knows. But he loves me. He looks out for A&A. He loves them, hugs them, helps them, sits in time out with them, builds them a new bed because they learn to climb out of the old one, reaches back to hold their hand in the car if they are crying. He listens to me, actually hears what I say, holds me when I cry, supports me, asks me questions about my past, my present and my dreams. He accepts me and doesn't think of my "baggage" as being "baggage" at all.

He is different from Tim in many ways, but he is exactly what I need right now. What we need.

Maybe lightning does strike twice.

Broad Shoulders

When is it that people start to go away? When do people figure you've got it under control? That you don't need them anymore?

Many widows or widowers can answer this question. It's when you start dating. Maybe that is why I have refrained for talking about that here.... It is certainly not a secret in my "real" life. But in my "real" life, I know who is watching me. Here I don't.

Once that leap of faith into dating is taken, people start to pull away. Mostly the people associated with your spouse, I would guess - their friends, family, co-workers. Maybe it is because it is painful to see you moving forward, a constant reminder that time marches on. Maybe it is because they think this means you are "all better" now. Maybe there is some discomfort thinking that you are "replacing" your lost spouse.

The new man is expected by some to sweep in and repair the pieces of your broken heart while taking on all the responsibilities that your spouse had, that other people had helped with up until now. He is supposed to not only be okay with all these sudden expectations, he should be gracious about it. He should respect your spouse and all the talk of him and all the photos of him on the walls. He should take on some of the fatherly roles but know that he will never be their father. Inside he wonders if he will always feel like second best. It takes some pretty broad shoulders to carry that weight.

The truth is that moving forward does not mean that you love your spouse any less. It doesn't mean that you are leaving that part of your life behind or trying to forget. Moving forward is not the same as moving on - moving forward is just starting a new chapter. It doesn't mean that you want to erase the ones that came before. All it means is that you recognize that you deserve to be happy once again - that your spouse showed you a love so great that even after the heartbreak of losing them, you still believe in love.

I read somewhere that it takes a strong man to handle a broken woman.

When a man dates a widow, he is getting a lot more than he bargained for - a truly broken woman. Women as a species are different from men, and therefore a lot of men have a hard time with them. With a widow, there is a lot of emotional baggage that must be dealt with tenderly, but not so tenderly as to make her think that you think she is weak. Those men are constantly walking the tightrope that is loving a broken woman. This is to be commended. Respected.

I can tell you one thing, I think Tim would respect the hell out of the man who loves me now. And he's got some pretty broad shoulders.

August

Oh, August. Here we are again. You know I hate you. You fill me with dread and cause memories of all of the "lasts" to come flooding back with your heat and your monsoons and your long, golden sunsets. It is as if I am just waiting for you to pass, but I would never wish away time because I know how precious it is.

Truth be told, I even hated that the expiration date on my debit card was this month. I hated having to write it. I hated that my husband expired before my debit card. I hate when people use the word "expired" when referring to a person.

I wonder will there ever be a day when August doesn't fill me with dread? With the 27th of any month come and go unnoticed instead of it marking another month passed since I have seen him, kissed him, held him, talked to him?

A&A are 18 months old right now. Every accomplishment they have had, every step they have taken, every sight they have seen he has not been here to hold their hands through it. To them, Daddy is a photograph. They couldn't identify him across a room by how he walks or his laugh. They don't know what it feels like to be comforted by their Daddy when they get hurt. I still remember what it feels like to be comforted by my dad and I am 33. They will never get that.

At least I still have the memories. I remember our kisses like they happened yesterday - the first kiss and the last kiss. Last week I came out of a meeting and as I was walking to my car, I reached into my purse and pulled out my cell phone to call him. I guess that is just how my mind works. 5 years of telling him everything, of having a best friend who was also my perfect partner - part of me will never be able to let him go.

Now I just have to make it through another August without cracking.

Mama! Mommy! Mom!

It seemed like I waited forever for them to start using my name. Well, to call me something anyway. They learned to say "mama" pretty early, but it was more babble than anything else.

Now, they say it and they mean it.

"Mama! Mama!" says Anson.

"Mommy!" says Ayla.

Of course they call me different things - they couldn't be more different.

Some days they like to mix it up and call me "Mummy" as though they were little British kids. There are so many cute words that British kids use. The problem is that it is so un-cute when they become adults. I guess I'll need to break them of this habit before they hit puberty.

Saying my name doesn't necessarily mean they want or need ME. Actually, I think the literal translation is, "Hey, you, adult there.... I need something and you should get it for me."

Some day it will be "Motherrrrr" accompanied by an eye roll (that I'm pretty sure I invented as a teenager). They may settle into just "Mom" when they are older. Right now "Mommy" and "Mama" are the sweetest words.

Separation Anxiety

When Ayla & Anson were born, part of me was sad because I had caused them to be separated. All they had even known was to be warm and snuggled up together, and yet here they were, out in the big, crewel world and SEPARATED. 

When we got home from the hospital, they slept in a rocking cradle in my room together. It was right next to my bed so that I could reach my fingers in and pat them as they fell asleep. I could reach over and scoop them up when they cried in the night.

Soon they grew too big to both fit in the cradle. It was time for them to move into their own room. The trouble was it was on the other side of the house. I took comfort in going in and looking at them still nestled into one crib, still having each other, even if their Mommy was practically in a different zipcode.





Eventually, history repeated itself and they became too big to share a crib. They were sleeping restlessly and kicking one another. Putting them into 2 cribs did not break my heart too much because they are right next to each other and they enjoyed the freedom to roll around in their own space while still keeping an eye on the other. The great joy of my mornings was waking up to the sounds of them talking to each other and practicing their words together, throwing blankets and toys overboard and laughing together.

Now, the time has come for them to go into their own rooms. I always knew that I wanted this step to happen before I started getting "gender questions" and I thought that, like most things, I would "just know" when the time was right. Well, that time is now. There are important transitions afoot - Anson is still taking a binky at night and I would like him to stop, but it seems unfair to subject Ayla to his crying. Ayla is showing curiosity about the potty. With potty training comes the realization that she and brother are plumbed differently. It's just time.

The thought of my little loves being this grown up chokes me up.

Single Mom

When I was pregnant, I wanted to take a child-birth class before I had the babies. I looked into it. It was the first time I had to deal with being a "single mom".

I didn't want to go sit in a class full of mommies and daddies happily expecting their little bundles of joy, looking into each other's eyes twinkling with excitement and hope for the future. In fact for many months, couples made me very uncomfortable. Even couples I love very much.

Instead I was offered to go to the single mom's child-birthing class.

But I didn't fit in there either.

Instead I skipped it all together and counted on my mom and my friend Shannon to get me through labor. They did fine, I made it through, and after 26 hours I ended up with a c-section anyway, so it really didn't matter.

The point is: I am not a "single parent". I mean, I am, but I am widowed, which is different. Drastically different.

I know that there are a million scenarios when it comes to parenting, and some of what I am about to say might not be entirely fair, but I'm going to say it anyway.

In a typical divorced, single parent set-up there are a few things that happen:

You, your husband or both of you made a decision to end your marriage.
You fought over possessions and debt. You got the couch, he got the TV, you split the AmEx bill.
A "parenting time" plan was set in place, as was child support and alimony where applicable.
You argue with your former spouse about pick-up and drop-off times, general parenting decisions and even money matters. You think he/she is a jerk.
You realize that it's hard being a single parent when there is nobody to pick up the slack around the house or with the kids.
You struggle with guilt and end up getting relaxed on rules and maybe even trying to be the "favorite" parent by letting your kids get away with more then your former spouse.

When people tell me they know how hard it is to be a single parent, the little voice inside my head wants to scream. The only person who knows what it is like for me is another widowed parent.

I didn't make a decision to end my marriage - my husband was stollen from his family against his will.
I got everything. That means I got to keep the bed we used to sleep in, the couch we used to snuggle on and the dinner table we used to sit around. I also got the AmEx bill.
When Divorced Dad is coming by Wednesdays and every other weekend to take the kids, you may not like every decision he makes, but you are getting a break. You can have cereal for dinner, go out with your friends, work on a project - whatever you want. You are getting some time.

 I get time one of 2 ways - either I ask a favor of a friend or family member or I pay a babysitter. And they are making $10-14 and hour these days. Ouch. I shell out for a break once a week for 4 hours. And I earned those 4 hours. The other 164 hours a week, I am on-duty.

I can't tell you what I would give to be divorced from Tim. I saw how he was as a dad and as an ex-husband and it was pretty admirable. He got along with his ex-wife and was still able to be a phenomenal Dad to his daughter. I would love the opportunity to be divorced from him for the simple fact that it would mean A&A could still have him, even if I couldn't.

Yes, it is hard being a single parent. I get that. You know what sucks even worse? Not having an ex to complain about.

Happy Father's Day

It is hard to believe that it was just 2 short years ago at this time that we announced our pregnancy to our families with such excitement - the future gleaming in our eyes. The only time I ever saw Tim as excited as he was when he talked about "The Twins" was when he talked about Brittany. This was a man who was born to be a Dad. He had a proven track record as an incredible Dad and I was excited to parent with him.

For his first Father's Day with A&A, even though we had just learned they existed, I got him a little present to give him at the dinners with each of our families. One was coasters I had made him for his under-construction bar. They were hand stamped by me with a special "Barber" monogram. The other was a t-shirt, which he was especially proud of:

That t-shirt was one that choked my up when I recently folded up Tim's clothes and put them in boxes. It wasn't even the shirts, pants, underwear that upset me - it was the memories of him wearing those things and my decision to fold them and put them in the garage, essentially removing Tim from our closet. It was time. His scent had long ago faded from those clothes - even the last ones that he wore.

Last year on Father's Day, the kids and I were sitting at Tim's grave, uncertain of the future and completely devastated. I still celebrated the day because I am fortunate enough to still have my Dad, but I was just heartbroken that A&A don't have theirs.

I guess at least I can say that this year, things are moving in a better direction. I am moving in a forward direction, which I know Tim would appreciate. And the kids are growing up. They have known who Tim is since they were itty bitty. They have been able to identify him in photos since long before they could talk. Now, they recognize him even in photos during his chemo when he had no hair and they declare him "Dada" and "DeeDee". Ayla occasionally tell me "DeeDee" is in places other than pictures, which brings me joy because A) I believe that he is with us and B) Tim wasn't sure what he believed as far as life after death, so this means I was right, even if he can't verbally tell me so.

Certainly Anson & Ayla do not know WHAT a "Daddy" is, but they know WHO their Daddy is.

And, again, we will spend this Father's Day visiting Tim at the cemetery, where they will point to the picture on his headstone when I ask, "Where's Daddy?"

This year, my goal is to build a place where A&A can go to learn "Who is Daddy?" They will get to know him from every perspective. This will be my Father's Day gift to the best Dad our kids never got to know. I hope to have a lot of help and contributions in making it everything it should be

It will be called http://www.knowingdaddy.com

7 Whole Months!

It is hard for me to believe that Ayla & Anson are now 7 months old. Time is moving quickly, yet I have little memory of what life was like before they arrived. Harder still is trying to reconcile our old life with this new life. It truly feels like 2 different lives to me.

The last month has brought a bevy of exciting changes and development.
 
Anson got his first and second tooth on the bottom and only 3 days apart. He was a trooper about it, fussing little.

Ayla finally caved and talked. She didn't say "Ahmama" as Anson did, instead she waited until she could say "Mom" plain as day. She has since started working on her "B" sounds.

Ayla is rolling and scooting all over the place. She can hold herself up on the edge of the couch if I help her to stand initially. Crawling seems eminent. Baby gates are gleaming in our near future.

Anson is becoming more mobility motivated as well. His rolling has improved and he can pivot on his tummy to change direction easily.  

A&A started swimming lessons and are loving their time in the pool practicing their little skills.

Ayla has begun giving "kisses". I use the term loosely because she actually just opens her mouth, grabs your face and slimes your cheek. Puckering is a skill to be learned in the future, apparently.

Both kids are sleeping more like little children instead of babies. When I lay them down, they roll all over the crib to find a comfortable position, sometimes on their sides or with their little butts in the air. It is too cute.

We took our first road trip to San Diego to visit with friends. I am proud to report that the trip was pretty mellow and without any major disasters aside from one little diaper blow out disaster on the way.

Ayla continues to be the mischievous one, always coveting her bother's toys or pacifier. She wall try to steal his binky even if hers is in her mouth. Pretty much any toy he has is more appealing than whatever she is playing with at the moment. Anson is pretty laid back and usually lets her have what she wants... except the binky. That is sacred.

They are both impressing me very much with their recognition of people and things. We look at pictures of Tim in our hallway daily and talk about "Where's Daddy?". Both kids will look at Tim when I ask. This month when we went to Tim's parent's house to visit, I carried them each over to their refrigerator, which is covered in photos, and asked, "Where's Daddy?". Ayla immediately looked at his picture, one they had never seen before,  and smiled. Anson leaned over and pointed and tapped Daddy's picture.

It is amazing to me what they know at such a young age.

Half Birthday

Happy (very belated) 6 months to my little loves. I am a naughty mommy for not getting this posted in a timely manner, but I think they are still young enough to forgive me.

I feel like there are little milestones every day and Anson & Ayla are becoming their own people more and more. Their personalities couldn't be more different, and that thrills me. Ayla is very outgoing and cheerful, but expects her wants, needs and desires to be met Right This Minute. She likes to be active and would rather roll and scoot all over the place as opposed to sit still to play with a toy. Anson is more laid back and enjoys figuring out how things work. He likes the toys on the bouncer more than bouncing and loves blocks and his xylophone.

This month Anson started the process of being fitted for a DOC Band. This is a medical device that looks like a helmet. It will help to reshape his head, which has some flattening from being cramped in the tummy with his sister and unable to move around the last few months of our pregnancy. In the next couple of weeks it will get a fun design courtesy of The Wrap Shoppe who designs them as a public service. Stay tuned for pictures when that arrives.

Although their spoken vocabularies are limited (Anson is the only one "talking" and his only word is "Mama" which he uses to beckon me.), they are recognizing certain words and commands:

Where's Kaiser? - Ayla especially will look around to find him when you mention his name. She acknowledges that she has a brother and that he is "okay", but she LOVES that dog. They are besties.

Two Hands - Both kids will hold their own bottles with 2 hands when you remind them. This is particularly helpful with Anson who likes to "wag" his bottle with his left hand only. (I think we have a little leftie on our hands!)

Up - Both kids will reach up to you to be picked up. If Ayla is in the bouncer, she will straighten her legs to "stand" for you to pick her up.

Can You Shake Hands? - Anson will reach out and flatten his right hand to shake hands. He prefers if he is told "it's very nice to meet you" in conjunction with this.

Where's Daddy? - Both kids will look at photos of Tim in the hallway if you pause and talk to them about him. This is both sweet and very sad to me, because I hate that they might think the pictures are called Daddy and not realize that he was a real man who loved them so much.

Bite - Ayla is loving trying all these new foods and will open for a bite. Anson, on the other hand, has not quite mastered the art of eating and really prefers not to have to eat real food. (I totally understood this when they were eating only cereal because that stuff is gross, but I have made them homemade foods of carrots, sweet potatoes, avocado and squash, all of which were pretty tasty!)

These kids are fortunate to have so many people in their lives who love them so much. I am fortunate to have people around me who realize that I need help sometimes. We are all making it through one day at a time.

5 Month Birthday

Wishing a happy 5 month birthday to my two amazing babies. For the last 10 months they have been my biggest support and the reason I wake up every morning to face the day. I wish more than anything that Tim were here with me to see the progress they are making and the little people they are becoming.

Ayla & Anson have had a lot of "milestones" in the last month.

Eating:
The kids started on cereal this month. We tried both rice cereal and baby oatmeal. Neither were a huge hit, and after tasting them both I think I can tell you why. Yuck! I am excited to get to start preparing them vegetables soon - then the food appreciation will begin.

Interaction:
Although Ayla has always been pretty interested in Anson, this month the love has become mutual. They will reach out to touch each other and roll to "play" together. When they see each other, their little faces light up and they even sit in their Bumbo chairs and "talk" to each other. This causes me to wonder about something I have heard of: Twinspeak, where twins develop their own language to communicate privately. I just hope they are saying nice things about their Mommy.

Laughing:
Both kids will get a kick out of certain words and cause them to giggle uncontrollably when I say them. For Ayla it has been "jeggings" and "flower". For Anson it was "Mama". They both have adorable laughs and when they get going you can't help but be laughing right along with them.

Talking:
Another surprise this month was that Anson decided to start saying "Mama". (It is usually more like "Ahmama".) With Ayla being more of a storyteller, I always thought she would utter a word before him, but Anson just had to prove me wrong. He says it pretty consistently now and has even learned that crying "Mama!" will get him attention quicker than a cry when he wakes up from a nap.

Swimming:
I took the kids to my parent's house for their first swim. At the suggestion of a friend, we tried out a special flotation device and both Anson & Ayla loved the water. Ayla liked how sparkly it was and was fascinated with looking at the ripples. Anson had a great time relaxing in his float and splashing. I want to get them to feel secure when I am with them in the water so that they will not be intimidated by swim lessons in the future. This is something very important to us living in Arizona where water is a pleasure and a danger that lurks in so many back yard pools.

Desk Project

I have started to think about what will happen when I split the kids' rooms. Right now we have an office and a guest room. I knew I would have to forego one of these well-used rooms, and the idea of moving the computer and filing cabinet and the like into our master bedroom did not appeal to me in the least. I don't like electronics of any kind in there: no TV, no computer, no distractions. We had thought those days of blinking computer lights in the night were behind us when we moved from my tiny townhouse.

A little bit of reading Real Simple magazine (my guilty pleasure) and looking at Pinterest.com got the wheel in my mind turning. This was one of my many "Inspiration" photos:

I decided to move the guest room into what is now the office and convert the closet in that room into my office. The closet in there is nothing special - just your builder-grade sliding door closet.

We had many of the elements that I would be using on hand, but they would need a little face-lift. Thankfully my parents owned a hardware store when I was little, so I am pretty fearless about tackling little projects. I am also far too cheap to buy new things when I think I can re-use, re-finish or re-purpose what I already have. (This was one of Tim's favorite things about me.)

6 cans of spray paint, one gallon of turquoise paint and many busy nap times while the babies were sleeping later, I am pleased with the result.

I still need to paint the rest of the room and move the guest room in here. There will be white curtains on the windows and matching curtains that can be closed to hide the "office" from guests, but I feel a sense of satisfaction that I have gotten it this far.

The payoff is that Ayla & Anson will each have their own room when the time is right, and Ayla will even have a little walk-in closet - every girl's dream, right?

Every time I accomplish something, every time I do something Tim would be proud of me for, I can hear him saying, "That looks great, babe! You're awesome. I love you." It makes me feel a little more like myself again.

Kaiser Turns 2!

On Saturday, Kaiser turned two marking a big milestone in his life and in our lives. We celebrated with a (lately infrequent) trip to the dog park and then to Petsmart for a new toy, some rawhide chews and the makings for a doggie birthday cupcake. 

Tim and I researched breeds, first dreaming of a chocolate lab before settling on the intelligence, protectiveness and appropriate energy of a German Shepherd. Kaiser was one of a little of 5 puppies born to a mother known only as Goldie - a blonde shepherd who was found wandering the desert of Southern Arizona while pregnant. A lady who raises Golden Retrievers took her in and cared for her and the pups until they could be placed for adoption through the Southern Arizona German Shepherd Rescue. 

Our interview process was intense. Phone interviews, aerial photos of our home and our neighborhood, discussions on training and discipline, lists of the closest dog amenities sent via email.... We adopted Kai 2 weeks before we moved into our new house. 

Kaiser is my first dog and little did we know at the time, the only shot Tim and I had at co-parenting. We took our responsibility very seriously and enrolled him in puppy classes and worked on manners, behavior and tricks with love and consistency. 

Over the last many months, Kai has become a big support for me and also my great protector. He is the perfect blend of protective and gentle, always knowing what is appropriate. He does not trust men that he doesn't know and is fiercely loyal to his family. He believes that A&A are "his" babies. 

We brought home blankets from the hospital to swaddle dolls so that he could learn their smells and begin to adjust before they came home. Kaiser was quick to fall in love when Ayla & Anson were born in January and now loves nothing more than having "tummy time" with them. He is a wonderful "fuzzy brother" and I am forever so proud of the dog he has become. 

Four Months

Two perfect babies with few similarities.

This month Anson surprised us by rolling front to back on Sunday night. (I know this is his way of further avoiding his nemesis: "Tummy Time".) Not to be outdone, Ayla followed suit the next morning. I am now on high alert all the time. 

Both of the kids have their moments of being outspoken and moments of shyness. They allow the other to "talk" and rarely "interrupt" one another. Ayla's voice is higher and very girly - Anson's is decidedly more masculine. Her hands are often open and graceful - his are usually balled up. Ayla poses for the camera while Anson clams up. I have to be pretty stealth to catch one of his incredibly big, warm smiles. He is a shameless flirt - she is a sparkly-eyed charmer.

Ayla has definitely discovered Anson this month. She rolls over to grab hold of him while they are playing and is fascinated by him. He is Mr. Laid Back (yea, that's clearly from his Daddy!) and just tolerates her constant pestering, not even complaining when she grabs onto his ears.

I am loving being their mom, hanging out with them, having adventures together. I talk to them and I make little voices for them with my interpretations of their responses. (What? I spend all day every day with babies - you knew that it would drive me to the edge of sanity at some point....) I like to think we have our own little inside jokes. I can make each of them laugh (well Anson chuckles and Ayla giggles) by kissing her belly or making faces at him.

I am their butt-wiper, their bottle bringer, their snot sucking, snuggler of a mom who plays, dances, comforts and cheers. The older they get, the more adoration I see in their eyes. They are understanding affection and will nuzzle their little heads into my neck and grab onto my shirt or my hair to try to pull me closer. I find the milestone I am most looking forward to is one that there is no place to write in their baby books - the intentional hug.

Ayla: Hmmm... what do we have here?
Anson: Nom nom nom....

Ayla: Hey, brother... you should totally let me chew on your arm.
Anson: What the...?

Anson: Knock it off.  I said no. 

Ayla: Oooh. I didn't know you were serious!
Anson: Nom nom nom....

Ayla: Pleeeeeease?
Anson: You're making me uncomfortable.

Anson: Look! There's Kaiser!
Ayla: Mmmm... tastes like chicken!

My Job

The best job I've ever had means that I am sometimes getting yelled at by two angry bosses simultaneously. I take a lot of "crap" and am driven to the "bottle" many times a day. The pay is lousy, but the benefits are immeasurable. I don't get any awards and the recognition I do receive is not a holiday bonus, but a smile, a laugh or an adoring look. The hours are long and I almost always have to work through lunch and even dinner. There are other people on my team, but they only work part-time, so I pull most of the weight myself.

I know on paper it doesn't sound very appealing, but it really is the best job in the world.

Looking at these faces there is no question that I was meant to work for them....

Hoping all you Moms had a wonderful Mother's Day.

Happy (Belated) 3 Months

This last month has been amazing and rewarding. Anson and Ayla are both babbling and telling me "stories" now. They each know their names and respond when I talk to them. No longer is it just me blindly caring for them - I am receiving appreciation in return.

We have had many exciting adventures. We drove to Camp Verde to visit Grandma & Papa and were also able to see Aunt Phyllis at the care home where she resides. We went to Flagstaff for the NAU Relay for Life which honored Tim and where I was grateful to be able to be the "Caregiver Speaker". Errands get easier as the kids are growing, but are time consuming due to all the people who love to look at them and chat with me about the joys of twins.

I am amazed at how masculine Anson is, and how feminine Ayla is, even at this young age. Their hands and feet are so different with his being thick and wide like Tim's and hers being longer and narrower like mine. Each has a distinctive voice and a unique little laugh. Anson consistently does Tim's chuckle while Ayla's laugh is a squeal of excitement.

Tim left me with the two things that are helping to heal my heart and every day with them is a blessing. 

First Easter Pictures

I do take a lot of pictures. You'll just have to trust me on that. However, I usually take photos of the kids individually and then sometimes I use a fancy app on my iphone to do a split screen effect so they are at least next to each other.

Trying to take a picture that is good of 2 infants in pretty near impossible.

To demonstrate, see the "together" pictures that I took on Easter.

Anson: Mom, what are you doing??
Ayla: I'm going to eat my dress.

Anson: My eye itches.
Ayla: Hey, look, my underwear matches my dress, see?

Anson: Woah! 

Ayla: Oooooh. Gram is funny.

Anson: I'm pooping.
Ayla: Let's dance! Come on. It will be fun! Eeew... what's that smell?

Anson: Are we done yet? This is boring.
Ayla: Mom, he's touching me!

Anson: Is that a hangnail? Does that look like a hangnail to you? I think I have a hangnail.
Ayla: I need a manicure.




Now do you get why so many of our pictures look like this:

I figured you'd understand....

Developmental Delight

Ayla started smiling pretty early on - I would smile at her and she would smile back. I would dance around like an idiot and she would grin. I would talk to her and she would squeal. When I was taking pictures, she put on a show smiling, cooing and posing.

Anson, on the other hand, appeared to be a serious boy. He would smile when I changed his wet pants, but would usually have me dancing around making a fool of myself while he just stared in wide-eyed horror. I thought I was destined to be the "embarrassing parent". When I pulled out the camera, he would become uber serious. I just couldn't figure out what would amuse him.

Then suddenly, I'm getting THIS!

Count me a happy mama. I have 2 babies who grin, chuckle (Anson), squeal (Ayla), turn to listen to me when I talk and just visibly show their excitement with my general existence. What a feeling!!