Babysitting notes

I'm just ahead enough in packing for a vacation Paul and I are going on that I'm feeling overconfident in my timing so much so that I thought it would be fun to stop for a quick blog post. Tonight, I will swing right back into the pendulum of suffocating anxiety and hyper-excitement for the trip.

Here are the notes I am leaving with my mom regarding watching the boys:

S L E E P

+ If you do nothing else, make sure Thomas pees right before bed. Otherwise, he will absolutely pee his bed. If you get so much as a trickle from him though, he's good to go. Unless he vomits in the middle of the night. That's a whole other problem.

+The twins may wake in the middle of the night. Maybe pause / ignore / put in headphones or descend two floors and let them figure out their woes on their own. They can be dramatic. Otherwise, go in, give a sip of water, and avoid good eye contact.

E A T I N G

+ Thomas is only allowed to say that something is "not my favorite".  Remind him of this and enjoy how absolutely disparaging he can make this comment sound as he slinks into his chair.

+ Have Thomas cook anything with you & I guarantee he will proclaim wild things like "this is the best food ever!" or "you make the best food! this is so yummy!" or "nana, you're just the best cooker in the world!"

+ Really, the boys are great eaters. They eat just about anything.  Maybe take this time to clean out your cabinet and fridge!

+Alistair will eat all the things. This is good. This is also bad. He will not put non-food objects in his mouth & attempt to eat but he will literally find & eat every digestible calorie within a hundred foot radius of himself as if it is his life's mission.

+Emerick loves to entertain his table guests as well as act like he is courting his food rather than eating it. If he isn't taking his food seriously (tossing it, letting it slowly fall from his tongue, building structures with peas and potatoes, wiping it in his hair, placing on face while making funny expressions, building on spoon for fun game, swapping with brother, creating artistic pieces on plate, etc) feel free to take plate away.

D I S C I P L I N E

+ Preventative = Make Thomas work. Make him think his jobs are really important and you really need him. You will have no problems.

+ When you do have problems, refer to handy dandy reference:

----- wound up -  send him off for time alone so he can cool down
----- is winding boys up  -  send him off for time alone so no one sends you to the E.R.
----- is whiny - tell him whiny boys go to bed early
----- is fighting with brothers -  tell him to make it right or else. then give big eyes and cryptic facial expression. ;)

+ Twins = take toys they are hurting each other with for the rest of the day. Then separate each one and lock them up. Turning a blind eye helps. Also, paying someone else to watch them.  Overall, just channel your inner boxing referee and enjoy!

G R E A T   A C T I V I T I E S

+ The twins are ticklish in their armpits and Thomas under his knee caps

+ Give the kids spoons and turn on music. Enjoy lip syncing and booty shaking at its primal level.

+ Find an animal and set the boys loose after it.

+ Find the boys and set them loose on each other.

P O C K E T   P H R A S E S    T O   U S E

+ "That's how we do it at Nana's house."

+ "Are we following our family rules?"

+ "I heard they just built a new prison down the road for kids who don't listen to their Nana and do exactly what she says."

Anderson Academy & Twin Care Role Call

Yes, this IS the only thing I have to write about right now. My brain is so on kid mode, you don't even know. I'm going to start twitching to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle in no time. I know there will be a season when my brain sails away to other places beyond our island of teaching little people words, but today is not that day, my friend.

I'm watching Luke & Logan along with my three full time now unless you don't count the collective hours I tell Thomas to go play in the dirt outside, and then I'm on this almost full-time. Most of my mental, physical, and emotional energy is spent taking care of and loving on all these people, so I have a few notes to share about each boy with you. They are all amazing and bring so much joy to my day when I'm not furiously finishing dishes or gasping at choking hazards I've found in the boys' room.

          Luke: Generous with the smiles. Eats like a beast. Likes to poop and fart on me when I am holding him like a nice aunt should. Fascinated by hands. Amused by Thomas. Developing interest in that guy who looks *just* like him.

          Logan: Tolerates my singing. Sleeps like a beast. Likes to spit up on me when I am holding him like a nice aunt should.  Fascinated by hands. Amused by Thomas. Developing interest in that guy who looks *just* like him and especially seeks contact when "those other people over there are acting crazy and I think we should find a way out right now".

          Alistair: Thinks props for hats are hilarious. Says wow & woo [look] about everything. And points at things like it is his ordained job. Oh the wonder of the world, my little friend. Finds dinosaurs and says roar in a funny, raspy, deep voice.  Sniffs out ninja turtle figurines like they're crack. Can you sniff out crack...like as a human? My knowledge of drugs is super limited. Thinks he knows how to read books. Shh, don't tell him he doesn't. Loves to dance. Signature move: the bend and bob.

I know this is the worst picture. I had no recent photos of him by himself. Mom fail. 

          Emerick: Gives hugs by coming close and bowing his head. Thinks any food he hasn't tasted or seen before has been delivered by Satan and should be eliminated without question.  Takes items and puts said item away or inside some other item. All day: book back on shelf, toy for momma, potato head inside these jeans. Peacekeeper: Alistair wants to fight--he walks away. Thinks momma's purpose in life is to read to him. Cuddliest kid that ever was. Loves to dance. Signature move: attempted gang sign and bob.

          Thomas: Fills up his days doing these main activities: 1. reading 2. "visiting his loves" (Luke & Logan) 3. playing with his brothers (aka escalating chaos until I tell everyone they need to separate before a vein explodes in my neck) 4. watching t.v. because mom said she is not in this to be a super hero and we will survive by watching more Barney. Current hobby: making "juice" in the backyard. Best friend: next door neighbor whom he visits for long conversations at the fence. Has grown one thousand inches in the past two months. Writes from right to left sometimes just because he can. Thinks the word "poop" is the best thing to happen to the face of comedy. Will dance if mom really wants him to. Signature move: something he calls "the brain" where he moves around methodically in a circle, and then when he gets back to the front acts as if someone has funneled a week's worth of mom's caffeine into his body and his limbs are reacting accordingly.

           And then there's me: And because I'm not suppose to whither up and die as an individual with nothing left of me but the smiling exterior of a mommy... what I've been up to lately: getting weird (counting calories) to lose weight, watching YouTube videos about organizing and beauty regimes and wondering where I've been all my life, drinking water like it's my job, trying my best to not text Paul dramatic things when he's away in D.C. (=all the time), marking days off the calendar toward the next time I can depart from the house by myself [hand clap emoticon x 1000], freelance work, drinking lots of coffee, watching Parenthood (much crying), and as of this week: reading Gone Girl and stocking my house for possible emergencies (what I told Thomas when we loaded his cart with 1000 gallons of water and bleach) but pretending like it's for me to emerge as a bad A for Walking Dead version 2.0 (and that is meant with 100% no offense at all--I literally mean I fantasize all the time about how I would fare and protect my family and be awesome in a zombie apocolypse). Wow. Longest role call write-up for myself. That's ok. I deserve it. But no, really. I deserve it. <Hard wink>. 

Perpetual Pregnancy (Momma to Twins)

I want to make a note of something on this ye blog about being a twin mom.  I'll say it just in case another twin mom can assure me she feels it too or maybe so I can look back on things later and see that things were "challenging" enough that I felt compelled to say this.

For me, being a mom to twins feels like perpetual pregnancy.  Women will tell their pregnant friend about all the things up ahead: Just you wait. You think you're tired now? Hahaha....Oh my gosh, just wait. You are going to just be so crazy about your baby. You are going to fall in love.....You'll figure it out. It will all work itself out. Just wait.... 

In a lot of ways, pregnancy is a long exercise in patience. As much as a pregnant momma wants to be a mom to a baby in her arms, most of the time she is just focusing on getting through the day, not throwing up, and generally eating and drinking things that won't hurt baby.  Sometimes she doesn't want to think or read or talk of what's ahead because honestly pregnancy is enough and C'mon people, I'm doing a freaking amazing job just carrying this little person around, OKAY???!!!

Yeah, that's pretty much how I feel since I heard that I was carrying twins--that sense of being laser focused on the present so much that the future was far from my thoughts.  I prayed that I would carry one more week and then one more week and then one more week.  Then I eeked my way through the newborn phase, and I refused to think of crawling twins.  Then they crawled and I was okay with that, but I couldn't imagine walking. Then they were walking, but I couldn't imagine climbing..... You get the point.

Last night at the park, I walked past a pair of moms as Thomas pushed the twins' stroller up the hill.  She spilled out with enthusiasm that just a few years ago she had the exact same set up (welcoming twin boys with a 3 year old boy at home already) and encouraged and encouraged me that things would just get easier and easier. And that was without me saying one word about things being tough unless my eyes were doing the speaking for me--or the state of the stroller--or that it was taking us a month to walk up a hill I could jog up in 30 seconds--or....

As a mom of twins (or maybe it's because I have 3?), I'm so focused on what we're all doing right now, that I can't see ten feet in front of us (and in kid time translation, that's about 3 months).  It feels very intense to me a lot of the time. It's like this-- I feel immense joy watching my kids, like crazy, my heart is going to turn into sun beams and shoot out of my skin joy, but I rarely, rarely have fun thoughts about the twins at 3 or the twins at 5 or the twins at 10.  When I'm out in public and I see a set of twins (and especially identical boys), my brain short circuits and shuts down because it can't connect the dots from point A (which at this point is toddlers who I can sorta kinda take out in public if I strategically plan things) to point B (civil human beings).

If it takes having twins (or once again, maybe that mini-herd of kids) to be shocked and awed by simple things unfolding before my eyes, things I didn't have the time or energy to think much about happening because I am so intensely focused on the present, then I'll embrace it. Last week I was all like, "Holy cow, you guys are using forks, like really using them...you are actually using those forks...HOW DID YOU GUYS LEARN HOW TO USE FORKS?!"  And Alistair & Emerick were all, yeah, mom. C'mon, we're almost one and half. 

And then I probably went right back to wiping someone's butt or telling Thomas I liked his artwork.

Maybe things are getting a teensy, teensy, tiny bit easier here. Yes, I think that's what it is. Maybe. Whatever the cause, I can finally share something along the lines of twin mom guilt: I'm super excited in the moment, but not so much for the future.  I figure the future will take care of itself if I take care of today.  "Today" looks like disciplining not to bite & teaching how to talk & reading, reading, reading & feeding & diapering & so forth. "Today" is also watching & observing & noting little, simple things to consider maybe not for 3 months from now but for tonight or tomorrow or maybe next week.  That just has to be how things are right now for me & at almost a year and half into being a mom to twins/three kids, I'm finally okay with that truth.

Good times. Good times. :)

Gushing about Caring for 5 Little Guys

I just want to pop in really quickly this morning and share my 4 favorite things about this small season of watching 5 little boys under 5.

My list might shed happy light for those of my sweet friends who have asked me if this is a good idea in their voice that says this is a bad idea...

My 4 Favorite Things About Watching My Sister's Twins Right Now:

1. Bonding time:

Thomas is so incredibly caring with Luke & Logan. He comforts them when they're crying with an "it's okay" or "I know, I know" or "don't be sad" and talks with them when they are awake and cooing at him.  I'm a little biased about Andrea's kids, but they "talk" a great deal. They are very responsive and it's so much fun to talk with them because they're generous with the smiles.  Thomas fills in for what he imagines them saying and that's also fun to listen to: "Oh, you had a good nap. That's great"; "Your mommy is at work right now, but she'll come back"; "Oh, I've been to the video store too!" Thomas rocks car seats, sets up blankets, arranges toys, and can even change a diaper (with a great deal of assistance).

This photo is so true of Thomas. He is always doing something to help. Sometimes I have to say "no, thank you" to that help, but it is sweet all the same. 

Now, about those other twins. Alistair & Emerick are like loaded guns. Even though their bright, smiling faces seem full of good intentions, I give them very, very limited visiting rights to Luke & Logan (and only when one of the sets is in my arms). I'm not sure what kind of bonding is going on there and/or if my twins are capable of swiping at the fresh set. In fact, I'm not really sure of what's ever going on with Alistair & Emerick.  Thomas and I tried to get Emerick to pick up a diaper (which was within his arm's reach) for over 5 minutes yesterday and the entire time he vacillated between a look of "I've not a clue" and "so you think I'm cute?"

2. Heavy / Light

I can be a whiny person. Okay, really whiny. [Paul, don't say a word about all those texts you get when you're travelling]. There's something about taking on the care of two more every other day to make me realize that my job of homemaker and kid raiser is a joy and not a burden. Switching between heavy and light feels like a mental exercise to embrace both because the seasons in our life are just that and they don't last forever.

I've just really slipped into the habit of thinking "LIFE IS SO HARD!" lately. This is almost exactly what I'll be thinking in an hour when I go to the library with the boys because I refuse to surrender to the drive through. I'll be in between choosing a book about Mars or Mercury and I'll look over to see one toddler bringing books to his mouth and one toddler walking his self out the building as if he has an appointment with anyone not us and just then a 4 year old I will pretend not to know will yell over his computer headphones  "CAN SOMEONE SHOW ME HOW THIS GAME WORKS??" And right then, I'll remember that motherhood can always be easier by lowering expectations.  Drop 'em low, let it go, take it slow-- It's a recipe for happy peoples I seem only to remember when I have breached disaster. Anyway, having Luke & Logan over here is helping me to enjoy my relatively light load on days off & not to sabotage myself by making things unnecessarily difficult.

3. Being Seen

I have wanted to write about the invisibility of being a SAHM a million times but can't find the words without sounding incredibly negative. Let me try to sum it by saying this:

If there's one thing I miss about working it was this: being seen. There is something so wonderful about your work being seen, acknowledged, and then challenged or complimented. People saw what I wore. They saw what I wrote. They saw that I failed. They saw that I cared / tried / solved / changed / grew / and simply just did. I love verbal affirmation. To hear "I saw that thing you did & I thought it was great" is enough fuel for me to do ALL THE THINGS. Truly. That's how I operate. I thought I would miss the money immensely. I don't. I thought not teaching would kill me. It didn't. (Let me introduce you to my 4 yo. Endless material there. ;). But not being seen? I don't know. It's just the really, really difficult part about not working that, for my personality, is a constant struggle. (A little dose of raw honesty for you.)

Anyway, this is all to say that I feel seen a little bit again. Andrea & Josh don't have to say much, or even anything at all, to make me know they feel what I do matters and this matters to me & makes me happy.

Weird? That's ok. I own it.

4.  The adventure of caring for kids

I love a good adventure. Who doesn't? The more time I spend with kids, the richer life feels. I've learned to laugh things off, roll with their whims, and not take life so seriously. Kids are unpredictable & always changing. I use to find this infuriating and on a bad day, I still do. But mostly, I just really enjoy being with little kids. And how is it that this is happening to me? I didn't own a single maternal instinct until I was pregnant with Thomas. Maybe after so many hours and experiences, you just cave in and join in on the crazy. Being fully immersed in a house of coos & "ba ba" & little dancing feet and this guy:

...it's like I've hit the nail on the head for that thing that makes me come alive.

Now if I could find a really, really good concealer for the tire marks under my eyes. :)

Bonus: Seeing my sister walk out the door in a cute dress & head to work, to be doing what's right for her right now with maybe, possibly a little bit more peace than another temporary care situation would have offered. It's a win-win situation, but mostly just a win because all our boys are very much loved and that's my very, very favorite.

5 under 5

A lot of you know about what's been going on at my house. Some exciting stuff. Well, here it is:

I'll be watching my sister's twins for the next few months before they join in the day care at her workplace. (First part-time & then full-time) That's five boys under the age of five. 1 four year old I'm kinda sorta homeschooling right now. 2 toddlers that I'm transitioning to mostly free roaming the house and its goods. And 2 adorable babies for me to sleep train and make smile.

Andrea & I are both navigating new routines & challenges and sending sisterly check-up texts to each other.  When she was pumping earlier she wanted to know how things were going, so I went right over to her boys and snapped this

right as one of them let out a long, slow fart. (If I was talking to my kids, I would say toot. But, c'mon, I'm gonna give these Mueller boys some credit. It was a fart if I ever heard one.)

Then I located Alistair & Emerick and snapped this

right as Alistair (on the left) was filling his pants with what can only be described as liquid poop because it made a sound which struck that exact chord & Emerick was 3 hot seconds away from a time-out for touching the forbidden light (a lamp of irresistible toddler magnetism).

Then I found Thomas who had just two minutes earlier found a pb & j and exclaimed, "Is this pb & j for ME?!!!" like it was a gold bar to solidify his fortune... and so I caved and gave him the very expensive, very amazing treat (his 2nd for the day).

Yes, you're right. At this point in the day, 3 out of 3 of my kids aren't clothed.

His look here seems to suggest pondering his former life of fond memories and/or how all the noise in the background is quickly making for negative ones.

No, really. He loves Luke & Logan. Adores. He sings to them & even showed his brothers how to very, very carefully touch them --- which just tripped me out & back to when they were that size and I was praying he didn't jump on their faces. Not really, but yeah...pretty much.

Alistair & Emerick definitely LOVE the transition. I've let them loose in the house & haven't had the time or energy to have a series of mini heart attacks about it. I found them at the fireplace perched and swinging their legs like it was just the. coolest. place. ever. It reminded me of teenagers smoking in some covert place and loving their put-on intrigue. Yeah, you cool boys. You real cool.

Today was my 2nd go round as headmistress of the Anderson House of Boys and it went pretty well. However, it wasn't a walk in the park as evidenced by the following:

a. my trash can is nothing but a mound of diapers. I seriously mean it. It's the perfect setting to play "I Spy a Dozen Diapers Without Even Digging!!"

b. a half hour before pick-up (babies asleep) I stuck in ear buds and displayed my dancing interpretation of "wiggle, wiggle, wiggle" and "drop it, drop it low girl" and many other songs to my twins who looked both delighted and disturbed.

c. right before writing this post I shouted into the void sun room, "I NEED CHOCOLATE!" and the universe answered back dressed as a 4 year old pushing his brothers around in plastic tubs, "Mom, you can't have chocolate until you've cleaned. Chocolate is a treat.... Your room is a mess. We do work first before treating ourselves."

Exactly.

They look like they would escape if they had the muscle control.  Smile, boys!

Happy 1st Birthday, Alistair and Emerick!

Pop pop. Bang bang. The big day is here. My little guys turn one today! 

Ya know, I envisioned this celebratory event a lot a year ago when I was looking like this:

Oh wait, that's my sister, Andrea, showing up for the party we threw for Alistair & Emerick last Saturday. You know she's carrying identical twin boys now too, right? And I'm being the super annoying anxious big sister sending her hourly texts about the boys' impending arrival....which is any day now!

Now here's me a year and two weeks ago thinking that the 1st birthday of my twins seemed a far, far way away.

But now we're here with one year old littles!! And it's wonderful!

I'll be reading their birth story later and probably cry. 

Things that took me by surprise: 

* how easy the twins are (ridiculously easy!) 

* how difficult transition to 3 kids was (to be fair, even transition to 2 would have been difficult for me)

* that I'm still nursing

* that I've been converted on babies. I've always liked small people once they can talk. I was pretty convinced babies were boring. But two babies! Who are aren't my first go round! And who play with each other! Give me some more! 

* what it feels to love two souls completely and entirely their own and yet also have this collective love for identical twins who operate as one unit 75% of the time --- it's crazy y'all & not easy to describe 

* how family members can, with some accuracy, tell them apart but each with their own clues...

               Paul - temporary differences (pimples, scratches, a tooth that hasn't broken through yet)

               Andrea - claims Emerick has crazy eyebrows 

               Amanda - shape of heads & eyes

               Thomas - [interviewed yesterday] "Alistair is crabby & Emerick laughs at my jokes" which is not entirely true but is a little because Alistair probably wanted my attention at that second and Emerick is at ultimate joy when Thomas is doing boy things with him....or....just around. 

               Me - uh, everything! facial expressions! eyes! all the things! 

* that so many people still can't tell them apart

* the number of times I would ask "so they do look identical to you?" because the boys just look like brothers to me. Maybe .5% of the time, I will look over and catch a moment where they look pretty similar but that's weird. 

* how much I loved cloth diapers

* how much I hated cloth diapers theverysecond the babies started eating food

* how many diapers I've changed

The things that were tough:

* month 3 when all the lack of sleep caught up to me 

* transitioning & balancing the needs of 3 kids (after being a working mom with 1 kid for over 3 years)

* SENSORY OVERLOAD on the daily. still.

* realizing my fertility is trying to kill me & so far doing exceedingly well

* discovering that even if I exclusively nurse twins for 7 months it may or may not help my cycle to return later than it would have if I had laid steaks and water bowls at their feet since birth. clue: didn't help.

Names we give them:  (and the ones that sound really dumb are from me)

* the babies

* this one

* that one

* that baby over there

* the one by you

* the twins

* my little viddles 

* Oots Koots

* nuggets

* these guys

* bubs [singular]

* bubsies [plural] 

The differences [that I tentatively present because they change often]: 

Emerick - the most laid back in all the land, content to entertain himself but loves his brothers so much, very happy, laughs easily & just learned how to stand unsupported 

Alistair - leader, interested in all things digital or mechanic, loves interaction with others, easily excited and is such a cute little talker! oh, and just learned how to clap yesterday which means he's right on time to clap for cake & all of us surviving a year! 

 And to top it off, a little nod to the year ahead.  I think part of the reason I enjoyed this past year so very much was because I braced myself for the hard and made mental space (and physical space for those of you who know and have seen the glory that is "the cage") for enjoying ALL the boys. ;)

So here are some things I'm looking forward to this year: Woohoo!!
* Words
* Walking
*  More cousins & playing with those cousins!
* Seeing their personalities shine & unfold & forge ahead!
* That feeling you get when your family is not us + baby/ies but just "us". The Anderson 5! As weird as it sounds, this might be what I'm most looking forward to--that sense of 5.
* Even more sleep forever and ever amen!

And this year wouldn't have been what it was without the huge support of family, friends, and my online community of mommas. I can't thank all of you enough for showing up & being there with us! 

Studio photos done by Delores Albers Photography!

First Comes Love

A great light flooded my world the day Alistair and Emerick were born.  Two tiny cries. Two babies to hear my voice. Two sets of eyes to lose myself in over and over again forever. I fell in love hard that day. 

While there has been a great deal of happiness in this season of caring for baby twins, I've had a particularly difficult time pulling it all back together. There's that place when fresh slates were wrapped in swaddling blankets and laid in my arms to nurse for the first time and then there's reality. The reality of three kids, not just two babies. Laundry that does not jump in the washer and clean itself.  A three year old who whines, grunts and baby talks, desperate for my attention.  Waking my husband up at 2 am with an avalanche of naughty words to describe my feelings on night time rounds with two babies for the 5th month of never-ending nights in a row. 

This time last year I was adjusting to a new job, teaching at a new location after five years at a rural school.  It took me too long to realize those students cared little who I was or what I could do or how much I said they mattered.  Success skidded on minimum even when I crafted perfect plans, stayed stupid late or poured myself over new ways to reach them.  Here's what mattered. One thing. If and when I sincerely cared. The rest took second place.  There's no cheap trick to convince kids you care. They can see right through the guise. They won't buy in or sign up for the rest of the program.

And just the same, as I'm coming back to life here at home I'm making sense of what's important first. I'm chomping at the bit to do it all. The projects. The organization. The routine that's starting to unfold. The friends I'm making. The lists. The skills I want to teach the boys.

But first, there's love. Long hugs. Highs and lows at the dinner table. Spontaneously getting into the car to chuck bread at ducks. Pretending the one million pieces of paper my spitfire cut up at the table are money that we found at the park and need to grab RIGHT NOW! 

I've got one broken-hearted boy who feels lost among baby cries and a mommy who seems to always be nursing or changing diapers.  I'm trying so hard to reach him. Countless days I've hung my head and wrenched my hands in pain that I haven't got his world pieced back together for him. 

Some of it is coming together. A lot of it is two steps forward, one step back. By way of force, I'm learning to chill out a bit. Clean the kitchen if I can. Get all the laundry put away if I can. Touch up the paint and sketch the garden plans and print off that resource and stuff those diapers if I can.  But love, I must. Be patient, I must. Listen, I must.

No one will see these things.  These little tiny choices of love I'm seeing now, at 28, I really need to daily, hourly re-commit myself to. In fact, they'll see them less than the thankless window wiping and cabinet scrubbing I thought I was signing up for. 

But I will know it in my heart. And hopefully, maybe, if I'm really lucky my sons will know it too. 

That is when I remember to not scream "SPACE!! SPACE!!" and walk over to put his hands in theirs instead. When I remember, friends. Please, Lord, help me remember!

Excuse me. I tooted.

Alistair & Emerick - 3 Months

Um, hello 3 months!! We are so happy to see you.

I always anticipated relief at the three month mark because 90% of the tales of twin-rearing woe I read while pregnant concerned the gauntlet that is (as of today!) the rode behind us. Anticipation affirmed. I feel huge relief.

You know that whole idea about rock bottom and hitting it? Yeah, well, that totally happened this month.  Smarter women than me who are aren't so bent on being independent and avoiding help bypass rock bottom and say hello to sunshiny days earlier in this journey. Humility and vulnerability have never been my strengths, so I can't blame anyone but myself for going weeks on end so fatigued I functioned like a zombie overdosing on testosterone.

But my zombie days are over, friends, as you'll read in a sec, and I'm feeling alive! and happy! and myself! and let me say it one more time... alive!

Let's get on with this month's tid-bits shall we:

Nursing: I stopped feeling sorry for myself (in wanting to nurse one sweet baby at a time so badly) and returned to tandem nursing full time. First during the day and then at night.  I'm in love with caring for twins, but it has been difficult to shift to a different nursing relationship than what I experienced with my first. But how can I say no to nursing babies who grab each others' hands and stroke each others' faces?! So sweet. Also, they are big enough now that I can nurse hands free and therefore bulk up babies and encourage my reading addiction simultaneously. I feel very grateful that I've afforded the opportunity to nurse twins full time. It has its own set of challenges but is wonderful and beautiful.
* For my own amusement I would also like to note interesting places I tandem nursed this month including but not limited to: a funeral parlor, my parents' van and a rocking chair in an empty church nursery  (where I had to contort the babies legs in awkward positions...sorry bebes)--all with no props save some gumption and a prayer no one would walk in. 

Sleep Baby Wise: Having twins has converted me into a big believer in the method found in On Becoming Baby Wise.  I was late to implement one super important factor--babies always sleeping in the same place and that being their crib/s--but otherwise found enormous success in following the eat, wake, sleep method and even read On Becoming Preschool Wise this month which has proved a very beneficial resource for improving my relationship with Thomas. The boys are now sleeping 12 hours at night with one feeding in the middle (and Emerick skipped that feeding last night). This would have been possible much sooner had I not let myself get so freaked out about their reflux and therefore avoid the crib at all costs (all costs = sanity). Oh well. Live, learn, move on.

Tripped Out: Paul left for two business trips this month. Or three. I honestly can't remember. We also drove to my parents' house two different times and to my sister-in-law's place to check out our brand new nephew, Everette. 36 hours ago we were thinking Paul was headed, by possible last minute plans, from CT to Chicago and straight to China... and I would have handled it okay. But he's here! So reprieve for me.

The Situation: (a note to twin mommy-to-be's) I would like to say for the record that taking care of twins is not particularly difficult. And it's a lot of fun! However, each person has his/her unique situation, as is life, so DO NOT feel bad if either you find yourself thinking a.) Hey, this is so much easier than I thought it would be...What's all the fuss about? or b.) Woah. What the what?! I'm drowning here. Suriously! I'm dying! Okay, maybe that last one was a bit dramatic but you get the point.  At the moment my situation's difficulty is served up by way of the following factors: 1. transitioning to SAHM 2. attention starved three year old due to tandem nursing, no older/talking siblings to play with, and 3 years of flying the kid ship solo 3. a husband who works a lot.  So, when people want to know how difficult it is to have twins, I feel like scratching my head. There's no good way to answer that question. I think we're all trying our best and also feel maxed out in a lot of ways most the time. One kid. Ten kids. Three jobs. Whatever it is. I would like to think other mothers of multiples would agree with me when I say this: You will rise to what your situation needs. You will do your best! And you'll see a ton or fruit from your labor. But you may also find that you are not enough (are we ever?) and will find ways to cut back, slow down, welcome help, work smarter, lower expectations, and at the end of the day know that with a little work and a lot of love all is okay and that is good enough. Speech over. Like I should be giving speeches. Dude. Blind leading the blind here.

Nicknames: I'm so sorry guys. I don't know what has possessed me to call you my "cutie wooties" but I can't un-say it now. I'll work up something much cooler, but you can't have the one I bestowed on Thomas: Little Foot. That's his. We'll think of something else for you guys.

Joyful, Joyful: Alistair & Emerick are very easy, happy babies. They are quickly becoming tons of fun. They "talk" to us a lot, especially right after I nurse them, and they go crazy when Thomas passes by. Considering Thomas's track record of excessive kissing and experimental prodding, they have every right to be terrified of him, maybe play 'possum as some innate survival instinct but no, they do whatever they can to get his attention.  Their faces light up instantly at the sight of him. Daddy can get them to smile the most and he talks to them one on one and they love it. Oh, and today Alistair squeed at me. Like a happy shriek/squeel thing. It took me by surprise. Very happy babies.

Hey, You There: Dare I say they're starting to interact with each other. They'll stare at each other and break into smiles, goo and gaa in this really cute swapping manner as if they're taking turns, and two nights ago as I was giving Emerick a bath he was overtaken by Alistair's crying and his lips started quivering even though I know he was perfectly pleased with his bath.  I had a talking to with the boys this month. I told them that it's really cool that they have each other, that that's called having a twin, and that most of us don't get a twin and that I'm pretty stoked about this enterprise they've got going.  They seemed to think I was being silly.

I probably had a lot more to say about this month but I can't remember at the moment. My stolen time has been made possible by Thomas staring at the t.v. Mommy guilt is setting in...

It's Friday baby and the Andersons are raising our glasses tonight to a packed to the brim, overflowing with joy journey with these cute dudes.

Thank you once again to family and friends that have helped us out!! We are ever and always grateful of all your love and support!

Alistair & Emerick - 2 Months

Oh boy.  The 2nd month.  I survived. It was a marathon of a month and I crossed the finish line, sweating and drooling. I wish I had more of a glowing report for twin mommies to be. Maybe that will be the case in a few months.  For now, the bags under my eyes tell a different story, one of epic sleep loss and desperation.

I wish there was a way to detail all the trials and tribulations and yet spare you of the urge to pity me, but I don't have the necessary brain power to pull that off. It's being spent on baby survival essentials. And I think the fact that this post is 8 days late is all the illustration any of us could ever need to understand just how trying things have been.

Nursing: The first month was all perfect, perfect as is my wont. I tandem nursed and recorded every minute of it. Neat. Tidy. Smart. I scoffed at the idea of nursing one baby at a time. Who would do such a wasteful, lazy thing? ... I'll tell you who! Me! About a thousand times this month. I did it first so I could semi-sleep through nursing one night. Gateway drug. Then I did it because my nerves were shot to hades in a handbasket when Thomas would hover and touch and add to the already overstimulating experience.  Bless his heart. The 2nd month was a month of experimentation and frantic nursing: one baby, then this baby, then both babies because we have to go to that thing and I need both babies fed.  I keep telling myself I'm going to return to full tandem nursing and never look back. After just one more solo session.

*I could write an entire book about twin nursing alone. Ok, not really but I feel like it.  But I'll sum it up this way: Tandem nursing is efficient. Solo nursing is lovely. Either way, I get to share it with two little souls staring up at me so win-win.

Sleep: I slept 5 hours in a row one night this month.  Everything else has been in one to three hours (and three hours very, very rare) increments.  I know I should get more sleep and insist on it and so forth but I'm so tired I forget to do so.  I know that sounds like one of the dumbest things you've ever read, but it's entirely true.  I'm sitting here typing this and blinking my way through remembrance of the past sleepless month.

Outings: After seeing my shortcomings this month in nursing and sleep management, I'll say a bit about getting out of the house to boost my morale. This month we managed to get out of the house often for programs, for "me time", or just to pick up groceries.  We've started going to the library for story time every Monday, just me, the boys, the Eddie Bauer (affectionately referred to as Eddie) and lots of prayers that we make it there and back again.  We've also started going to programs at the Nature Center.  These are great things for Thomas to enjoy with his peer group and me to enjoy in the sense that it forces me to shower, look decent, and talk to adults who are not my husband.  I refuse to think taking the boys out by myself is a big deal.  I don't want us to miss out on fun stuff just because it takes me something like 3 hours to prepare us to get in the car.

Growth: At the one month check-up the doctor announced the boys were at the 23rd and 28th percentile for weight...on the preemie chart. Now we've made it to the regular chart! I worked darn hard for those 1st and 3rd percentiles. Alistair weighs 9.13 lbs and Emerick weighs 9.10 lbs. It's bizarre to think some babies are born this big. When we're out people exclaim "newborns!" Mm. Not so much. But they are right about the size. The boys are just barely still fitting in newborn clothes, a size Thomas wore for maybe a week of his life.

New Tricks: Alistair & Emerick ----> smiling (it takes a bit of work...but they're adorable)
                      Me ------> herding all three boys in the same direction
                      Thomas -------> toothpaste art in the bathroom sink when mommy is busy tandem nursing

A Day in the Life: Wonder how things are with twins? (Well, and a toddler).  It's like this... It's really not a big deal. I'm just like everyone else in any other situation. The boys are fun. There's extra work. The washing machine gets just as little rest as me. But it's all good...until it's not.  And this probably has just as much to do with bigger families as it has to do with twins but there can be extremely intense periods where multiple needs are being thrown my way and it's particularly stressful.  Sometimes it only lasts 10 minutes. Other times, things won't settle for 3 hours. I'm talking non-stop go, go, go. The trick is repeating to myself: this will pass, this will pass, I love my kids, this will pass.  And it does. And then I smile because I feel pretty awesome for answering the call to love and somehow not breaking down into a puddle of tears.

Cloth Diapers: We use bumGenius 4.0s. We love them. I need more in the worst way.

Happy Holy Baptism!: The boys were baptized during this month and we hosted family for the celebration. Alistair & Emerick are so blessed to not only have my sister, Andrea, and my brother-in-law, Josh, as their godparents but so many aunts and uncles (just counted... as of today, 17!) to watch over them and guide them.  The boys just don't know how good they've got it. But Paul and I do, and we're so appreciative!

I'm raising my mug of coffee to surviving that 2nd month and hoping big that the 3rd month is just a tad easier! 

This is So Hard

The twin experience has been intense.  The boys are in their seventh week sans womb.  I knew I would be tired and I knew that there would be a lot of work.  I guess what I hadn't anticipated was the ways in which I would stretch and grow.  Even as we shift closer to a sense of normalcy, I still find myself moving from task to task amped up because I know, inevitably and whether or not I'm ready for it, each day I'm introduced to a new skill, a new insight, a new challenge, or, as is more accurate, a mixture of a couple dozen of all three of these.

However, that underlying pulse of excitement in all I do keeps company with exhaustion.  Not just an exhaustion from lack of sleep but from so much physicality.  And then there's exhaustion also from juggling life's priorities. When I shifted my focus from sleeping well to nursing comfortably everything became one big hot mess.  When I moved the schedule around priority uno, getting out of the house every evening for a walk, Thomas's nighttime routine vanished into thin air.  After making my 1st real meal, I couldn't catch back up with the dishes for what felt like a week.  It's laughable how much experimentation I've taken to each day in reaching for balance.

But any inclination to throw out a "this is so hard!" would need to be followed up with one of the greatest revelations I've had since finding out our one was two.  Our perception of how difficult our lives are is often based on the circumstances thrust upon us rather than the choices we make.  What we often mean by "this is so hard" is that it is difficult in a sense we didn't expect and maybe even don't care for.  I'm not necessarily working any harder within this new set of circumstances than I could have been working when I was mother to Thomas alone. And that has me wondering how much more I can stretch and grow if I set my sights on even greater heights, even more priorities, even more conflicts needing to be obliterated with my Super Woman skills.

And here we have a bit of neurosis.  It is terribly true that something strange is happening inside of me that's urging me to dip deep, really deep, but I will pull myself back for a moment in the recollection that women tend to do this.  We put so much on ourselves.  We live for the exhaustion.  Our heart beats as if to say yes to others' needs.

If anything is difficult for me, it's knowing when I should be selfish so that I can serve and love as I'm capable. Yesterday, I slipped out onto the porch to sit on the steps and drink my coffee.  I listened to the neighborhood wake up.  I played a bit of I spy squirrel.  I stared ahead at the peach-ish house opposite ours imagining how much better it could look with some new windows, darker roof, and a bit of landscaping (while telling all thoughts which bubbled up about our own unfortunate state of affairs to sit down and shut up).  Best of all, I breathed in and out over and over again.  I made myself slow down physically and mentally.  When I get so busy doing I can forget why it is that I'm doing it all.  For that ten minutes of quiet cool bliss, I refocused on not getting caught up in proving anything to anyone but instead to fill first and foremost my time with my family with touches of joy and patience and just fully being there instead of flitting in and out of vision to meet needs before flying off for the next thing.  Being gentle with myself, with that cup of coffee and some fresh air (my goodness, I hadn't been outside in more days than I care to count), made room for my gentleness with others.

Hard is what I make of it.  We, for the most part, can speed things up and slow them down when we wish to make room for breathing. I plan on a lot more sitting still and doing nothing to balance out a rush to be bigger, faster, stronger. Because if I'm not going to get it all done anyway, I might as well step outside to smile at the sun.

Alistair & Emerick - 1 Month Update

Woohoo. We've done it. We made it to that one month mark.  We got over four weeks of TLC take-on under our belt for our tiny duo.  Here's a little status update.

Nursing: Since less than 24 hours post birth, it's all been tandem nursing for us (minus a couple feedings where I thought it would be "fun" to nurse one at a time and quickly realized how misguided I was).  The boys eat every 2 and 1/2 to 3 hours during the day, initiated by whomever is ready first, and offer only a tad bit longer intervals during the night, sometimes stretching to a whopping 4 hour stint.  At night, I wake to cries (not my own yet), carry babies to living room, unswaddle on top of Brest Friend twin nursing pillow, latch both boys, start timers on best favoritest app in the world that all twin mommies need (Baby Connect), fall asleep one hundred times in 15 minutes, and then burp, diaper, and swaddle both babies before tucking all three of us back into each of our beds... so no biggie. 

The boys reach out for me or the other while nursing. It's adorable.

Sanity Walks: I take a walk each night.  As you might have surmised from above, I rock those wild and crazy nights primarily solo, except for those occasions when Paul, in a fatigued stupor and 9/10ths asleep proclaims he's following me out to the couch to help and I end up getting to stare at him sleep while doing the routine and debating with myself whether I will yell, "Paul... Paul... Paul...Paul... PAULWAKEUPANDSWADDLETHISBABY" or just do it myself.  Okay, anyway, back to the sanity walks.  I need them so I take them.  This is one of the hundred ways Paul has been of big help to either his credit for insisting I treat myself or my insistence that there are no other options really.  I lace up and tuck my beloved headphones into my ears and head out into the neighborhood for the bliss of breathing fresh air and hitting the sidewalk to explicit hip hop lyrics for 30 minutes, an effort that undoubtedly balances out the abundance of mature goodness and motherly instincts I've exhausted throughout the day.

Outings: I've ventured out into public with the twins in tow. However, our car seats are not of the portable sort, so this means one momma on the loose with two babies atop each other in her arms while she searches for a bottle of wine or a last minute card.  When I took the babies to their 2nd doctor's appointment a couple weeks ago, the crowded waiting room inched closer and closer while we waited, asking nearly every question conceivable (minus the fertility treatment question) regarding twins.  Fish bowl it was.  And apparently Super Woman I am (I'm not) for toting around the two on my own.  General reaction out in public is "Aw, how cute, a baby.... (wait for it, wait for it)... OH. TWO!"  I feel like the boys' agent rather than mommy.  Alistair & Emerick's first true outing, our first outing together as the whole family, was Americafest at my sister's house.  As you can see below, the boys were out of control. 

The Vessel:  My body is one hot mess.  I first noticed a major problem on my  hands  hips when I studied YouTube videos a week ago to take my measurements.  I studied the videos. Okay, no problem. Let's do this. I went back to my room, took a look in the mirror at my exposed and vulnerable flesh, and realized my body shape in no way resembled what each and every video told me to expect. My body is no hourglass.  It's jello. It's flabby.  It's a few more curves than I bargained for and all in the wrong places.  And according to my sister's brother-in-law, it's also a temptation for others to ask "Are you pregnant?"  So yeah, if I wasn't already fiddling around with the idea of becoming that weird obsessive exercising personality type for a couple months while I shed this shape, there's no fiddling now. I'm getting full on freak to lose the last 15 lbs.

Differences: Pointing out differences in the boys sends me into a bit of nail biting.  I have to be careful not to label or make lesser.  So I'll only tell you the two notable differences we've found in the boys (still not enough to actually tell them apart without help from the toe nail polish).  Alistair appears to have notes of yellow in his skin and Emerick tends to have fairer skin and get fairly red when he's upset.  And then there's this, and I get that it sounds silly to note but it really is notable: Emerick toots a lot.  If I hear a baby fill his diaper or let some gas in the funny honktastic squeak newborns love to make, I check the toes and almost always see green.

Balancing:  The transition / regression / the-fuzzy-period-we're-working-hard-to-forget is largely over, but learning to balance it all is something I will be working on forever and always.  I can have a whole string of minutes that are peaceful and relaxed. Maybe Thomas is outside rousing neighbors' suspicions while he goes to town with nothing but a bucket and a hose while his mommy grins from inside or maybe Thomas happens to find intrigue in a forgotten toy for a good chunk of time while I'm nursing.  But there are other times I've got a whole queue of needs lining up that range from critical to urgent to important and I'm the only adult around to assist the littles in their cries for help or, in the case of the time I was stranded on the couch tandem nursing and Thomas announced he had to poop and I about crapped my pants myself, cries for "more toilet paper pleeeeeeease!"

Baby Blues:  I think they might have passed me by this time.  In fact, I think I got whammied with the opposite.  I was on an overdrive of joy for the first two weeks and shifted slowly into a more human range of emotions the 2nd half of the month.  I did have a good cry ten days in because I didn't want the boys to get any older (feeling the same way about Thomas as well), but I was able to let go of that brand new baby stage somehow.  I credit how well things have gone this time to a great many things: help from others (and me saying yes to it), frozen food, two books (Seven Habits & Baby Wise--just a little), showering, a sheer refusal to complain or welcome negativity, the nursing, those walks, and God's grace.  (This is absolutely not to say these things guarantee success for others, just simply my experience.)

Travel:  Paul travels a lot.  People have tossed me their sympathy from time to time for it and I've tossed it right back because really, his travels have 90% of the time been a piece of cake. International travel is a little dicey, but in house stuff is no big deal.  However, I will tackle my 1st stint of his travel and me home alone with the babes next week.  I'm a tiny bit nervous. I might take to Twitter or Facebook for solace from the clamoring of boys. And maybe some sympathy too.

What will I do without this kind of help?

Look What We Can Do: Emerick has rolled over twice from belly to back, in a fit of baby rage, and the boys have considerable head control, just like their brother Thomas did.  Both boys started cooing a few days ago and my heart melts something fierce every time.  Both boys track faces and sounds well and it's fun to watch them do so.  Both boys, but often Alistair, smile a lot after nursing.  Also, both boys have learned five sign language words. Just kidding. They've learned ten. No really, that's a joke. 

Alistair & Emerick's Birth Story: Part 2

Part I of the boys' birth story is here in case you missed it. 

I climbed onto the bed per the nurse's orders.  Shortly after, the room shifted into an unsettling quiet.  She placed an oxygen mask on my face, ushered in two more nurses to watch with her Emerick's distress displayed on screen, and I steadied myself for the unknown.  I prayed God keep my sweet babies safe.  They explained to me that Baby B's (Emerick) heart rate was dropping each time I was having a contraction and that they needed him to recover quickly.  The unsaid being that an emergency c-section might be knocking on our door.

I did what I always do in times of difficulty. I quieted myself, wringing my stomach and throat from the inside, choking back the letting loose of my fears. It was just then that my mom, dad, and brother, Mark, walked into our room.  It took me a moment to register that a.) my dad had successfully surprised me with his presence and b.) three nurses and an oxygen mask on their daughter might be an image a touch distressing for my family who hadn't yet heard of any complications or concerns.

My dad is a truck driver. I grew up with him working long hours, difficult shifts, and either waking at wee hours in the morning or climbing our stairs to go to bed long after we had all fallen asleep.  My parents both carried the load of stress this lifestyle offered as means to provide for their family.  My dad couldn't make it to my mother's birthing of me because he was on the road (and I love hearing that story about so much waiting and Grandpa driving anxiously and Grandma helping out).  My dad's unexpected arrival with a timing no one could have predicted seemed a happy throw-back to that which he missed before.  Just as my mother's presence for Thomas's birth was a comfort indescribable, so was my father's for this one.

Someone grabbed my hand as my eyes closed in concern for Emerick.  I thought at first it was Paul's, but in my tightening grip of a smaller hand, one which seemed to match my own, I realized it was my mother's fingers which wrapped around mine and I cried because I did not want her worried about me.

My family was asked to leave while Emerick stabilized.  With me cut off from the Pitocin, we held our breath for him to bounce back.  And he did.  At some point a nurse checked my cervix and felt Emerick's umbilical cord pushed in a position which did not favor him working through those contractions.

I couldn't tell you if it was 1 minute or 10 later, but when I looked up to see my obgyn, Dr. Lehnert, at the side of my bed in scrubs, I couldn't have been more relieved.  We hardly needed to say anything to each other.  We had gone over and over and over my concerns, my questions, my feelings and what-if's every appointment throughout my pregnancy.  In that second I looked at him, I felt like we were talking without words, an experience I thought reserved only for family and loved ones.  He asked me, "You ready to do this?" and I must have said yes, but all I remember is crying big tears of happiness and telling Paul that I was so excited that we were about to meet our boys.

The shock and sterility of my 1st c-section was replaced by big doses of joy for our 2nd. I already knew the sheet would be stupidly close to my face and that I would crane my neck to see my boys.  I already knew I would go numb in nervousness when they did my spinal and that I would feel like Paul coming into that surgery room, a vision of hospital blue, would feel like being separated from him for hours (even thought it's only 20 minutes or so).  I already knew they would count off the instruments, that I would generally feel like a piece of meat, and that I would need to be okay with more people seeing my body mechanically opened than I could even keep up with.  All this which is great to be avoided when you can worm your way into natural birth, vaginal birth... it didn't matter much to me because I made it.  I made it to the end and I was so glad to be there.

Alistair, Baby A, was the first to be pulled out at 11:20 a.m. and hearing his panicky screams sent me into big momma sobs of joy.  I heaved with joy.  And sixty seconds later, as Emerick emerged I sighed relief and heaved with joy all over again.  Paul and I marveled at the sound of two newborns crying simultaneously.  As real as the pregnancy was, the sights and sounds of two identical healthy baby boys was so completely unreal to us.  Nothing could have prepared my heart for its jump in size, the way it climbed up and crashed upon this moment like waves on a shore, so fierce and beautiful and loud.

Alistair sporting his Mr. Contemplative look on the left and Emerick donned with a #2 on the right.

I shooed Paul away from my side to capture the boys in photo.  Alistair calmed first while Emerick continued to short cry his way through a little bit of what you might call pissy-ness which is completely founded considering Momma scared him quite a bit with all that contraction nonsense.  Paul tentatively checked the boys out as their APGAR scores came in and weights and measurements were announced: Alistiar at 5.12 and 19.5 inches.  Emerick at 5.10 and 19 inches.  A nurse asked Paul if he wanted to hold both boys and just like that the man I know and love looked the most natural picture of father to twins.  I think Paul could have two more added to him here, maybe one on his back and one wrapped around his leg and he would still look like a natural. Just sayin'.

While being put back together and grinning like an idiot, I stole myself for that last scary, awful element I had prepared myself for continually during the seventeen weeks I knew I was carrying twins, quieting my anticipation of the birth for the very strong likelihood the NICU would whisk off our boys right when we needed them the most.  I caught eyes with the closest person near me, feeling as if I was reaching out with my very arm to stop them in their wrapping up of surgery.  "When will the NICU take them away from us?" was answered by an eager reply of, "Oh, they already checked them. They're fine. They're all yours!"  And my heart leapt again.  Had I ever known such great joy??

I'm not quite sure where a birth story ends and the rest of life's story begins. And there's really so much I could share with you about all the joys that continued to pour in with the arrival of the boys, namely the love and support of so many family and friends through visits, texts, calls, and so on.  But if I had to book end this experience of meeting my sons, nothing would be more fitting than our connection via that first nursing session.  Because sure I didn't warrior woman my way through birth, opening myself up like a flower or scream-pushing like some possessed monster, but I nursed my babies and said hello, you're mine, I love you and in a way that's all that ever mattered to me--showing up and being fully present.

Both boys latched, Emerick first and then Alistair, with an ease that took me by surprise.  To hold them, one by one, skin to skin, brought my ship safely into harbor.  I could take on what lay ahead. I had this, this connection, and that's all I needed to make my way.  That and the boat loads of oxytocin two nursing babies can release because hello holy high; nursing twins feels like being drugggggged up! And nowhere in those awful, horrible things that I read about twins did I find a mom professing love for the happily milked ever after.  But there I was, double, triple checking with the nurse that I really wasn't slipped something something without my knowing, that it really was these tiny littles that had me high as a kite.

And it was. It is. It will always be that my sons, all three of them, through a lot of work and some preparation and a few scares here and there, will over and over again catch me by surprise and have my heart soaring.

the end