I was driving home from the library last week. It had not been a good morning. At least…I didn’t think so.

To be fair, story time had gone well, overall. The kids behaved, as much as kids at this age do.

But it had stressed me out. Most outings do, these days. Getting all four of us out the door, in full winter gear, on time and without me wanting to pull my hair is a challenge that most days I am just not up to. I’m sure I need to cut them (and me) some slack. This is a difficult time of the year, a difficult season of life. But still, when I do suck it up and try to get us somewhere, I get stressed.

Whether they are or not, I feel like everyone is watching me. And while most people are just amused at something Megan’s doing or noticing the twins’ double-cuteness, the fact that we draw attention adds to my sense that I’m held to a higher standard. That I have to somehow make this stage of life look easy. And it’s not. And I can’t. 

When I go places, I’m a bit jealous, I must admit, of the mom who has one four-year-old with her. Or just the preschooler and the baby (sometimes still in a car seat). Their kids get full attention. Mine don’t. Two eyes and three kids means that somebody’s not under surveillance at any given time. And that one is, inevitably, spinning in a circle or pulling something off a shelf or otherwise acting like the toddler/preschoolers that they are. But it stresses me. I feel inept. Like I should, for example, somehow be able to control Alex and Megan even when I’m zeroed in on an epic battle with Erin’s zipper. And that day, these other moms were even monopolizing the bathroom entryway so that I couldn’t even get into and back out of the restrooms without the stress of seeing their kids just standing there waiting while I failed miserably to keep Megan corralled while simultaneously washing Alex or Erin’s hands.

And then, after all of that…after finally getting out of the building, across the parking lot (which is stressful even when we’re all holding hands), and into the van (followed by nearly 10 minutes of arranging, rearranging and buckling up)…after all of that, I got behind a FREAKIN’ GARBAGE TRUCK on the ride home. It was the very, very last straw. My frustration erupted into my typical response…”ARRRRGHHHHHH! Silence followed. For about 10 seconds. Then Alex giggled. “Mommy, you make funny sounds.” Thanks, Bud. Thanks so much for noticing. 

Obviously, it was not a good day.

But even still, it occurred to me somewhere along that drive home, that maybe, just maybe, my definition of good needed tweaking. When I honestly asked myself, “What do I mean by good?” I realized that in my world, good means “easy.” It means “smooth and flawless and without interruption and without complication and without unexpected delays.” I get what I want, when I want, and no one bothers me and everyone obeys and the checkout lady gets my entire order right and the fresh meat doesn’t drip blood on my other groceries and my kids don’t have meltdowns and we make it home having accomplished all of our errands in less than 90 minutes. Yeah…that would be a good day.

But it isn’t reality.

And it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, good is supposed to do less with “how things went” or “how things turned out” and more with whether I ever even looked for Jesus to show up in this crazy adventure that is life in our house (or van) these days. Could an day or activity be good, even if I end up behind a garbage truck or my kids refuse to nap or we arrive totally late or I get only one of my three intended errands done? If “easy” isn’t really what makes a day good…then what does? In other words, what would make God call this day a good one? How would He define good? 

Because, I’ll be honest, I haven’t figured it out yet. Take today, when an unexpected trip to the pediatrician (after a long night = one tired mommy) followed by a trip to Target where the checkout lady was not stellar and Alex was more interested in exploring puddles than helping me get his sisters to the van and out of the rain quickly had me stressed out and frustrated again. Based on my typical standard…it was not good. 

But then again…we have no ear infection (nor do we have hand-foot-mouth either!). And I got the important stuff at Target (or most of it anyway). And I had more than enough money to cover my purchases. And my kids played quietly while I dealt with said cashier. And we did not have a car wreck on the way there or home (I saw one being cleaned up when I put gas in the van) and I could afford to fill my van with gas in the first place and we came home to a warm house and good lunches and way more stuff than we could ever really need…and I start to wonder. Maybe this day is a good one after all, even with my tendency to stress. 

Anyway, this post is obviously not about answers. In this case, I’m a long way from answers. This one’s just about me throwing out the question…and seeing, perhaps, if you’ve already been where I am and what you’ve discovered along the way. So please feel free to share. Or if you’ve got nothing (yet) either, then maybe we can both just be encouraged that we are not the only ones whose personal tribe of Little Folks can sometimes drive us batty. I’m right there with you.

And thankfully…good company is always good. 

Since I haven’t really done a “what are we doing these days” post recently (okay, except for Megan’s 15-month post, but I forgot some stuff and didn’t mention the twins), I figured I’d do a quick one tonight.

Alex…

is currently saying “that makes me happy” or “that makes me laugh” when he really likes something and “that makes me sad” when he doesn’t want to do something.

is a big fan of the video for “Move It, Move It” by will.i.am with the Madagascar 2 characters dancing. 

uses an implied “not” on a regular basis. He simply leaves out the word, even when the context clearly indicates it should be there. As in, he’s crying, “I want lunch” while throwing a fit on the floor…we’ve learned that he really means “I don’t want lunch.” (We’re pretty astute, huh?)

has explosions of energy that just astound me. They come from nowhere, require great creativity on my part to provide outlets so he doesn’t destroy the house or his sister or me, and usually end when he flops over and announces “I not run anymore.”

Erin… 

has taken to calling Alex “Brother” when she’s calling for him. As in “Brother! Here’s your puppy, Brother!”

can button her own buttons and walk down stairs comfortably without holding on now.

will occasionally reply to my call to come (for lunch or dinner, say) with “be right there after I (fill in the blank with some random activity)!” Really? She’s 3…can’t wait to see what she’s “just finishing” when I call her when she’s 11.

Megan…

Has started saying “gain” meaning again, and “have it” meaning give that to me, and she’ll say “bye bye” to anyone these days (or at least wave)

She’s taken to touching or doing things she knows she’s not supposed to and saying “stop it” while she does it…because that’s what I say to her. It’s usually nothing actually disobedient, more like taking clothes out of the laundry basket that I’m trying to fold from. It comes out like “stoppit” when I say it to her…so that’s how she says it to me, too. It’s hard not to laugh while I distract her with something less intrusive.

She’s also started scavenging from Alex and Erin. As soon as they finish eating, she says “ah done” and when we put her on the floor, she climbs into their chairs and finishes anything left on their plates. Seriously…she’s a mooch!

And that’s all I can think of at this late hour…you know 9:00 p.m. But hey, it’s late for me…so no judging! 

Well…Here we are at 15 months. I realize I a bit late getting this post up, but hey, I have to chase Megan around all day, so I don’t have a lot of time for posting about her!

One thing is definitely for sure. In the last few months, Megan has developed quite the personality. I mean…just look at these faces!

But her smile is definitely the best. This girl has got a grin that lights up her face. And when she’s really happy, she scrunches up her nose and laughs through her nose until she snorts. Oh yeah…too cute!

She is definitely keeping me hopping these days. She’s started showing a stubborn streak that can outdo either of the twins’ best efforts. A “no” gets you a frown, a bit of baby backtalk…heck, once she even stomped herself in a circle while she hollered at me for telling her not to do something (get into a drawer, I think). I think I’m really gonna have my work cut out for me when she’s older (you know – 2, 3, 16). She’s definitely a smart one; she’s got a really large vocabulary — multiple times a week, she surprises me with a word I didn’t know she knew — and she’s learned how to mimic counting from 1-10 already (I don’t think she really can count, she’s just repeating what we say with the twins all the time). And she’s figured out how to climb, too. I have to be on constant vigilance for her attempts to scale the kitchen chairs and scavenge off the table anything she finds there. And if she can make it without getting caught, she will sit and sometimes stand on the table, too. I know…good times, right? The other day, she found a pen on the table and managed to draw a small line on the top of her foot before I found her. This was particularly funny because, for the rest of the day, she kept rubbing her fingers on the line with her brow furrowed, as if she could not figure out where it came from. And because I’m such a good and attentive mom, I did wash it off her foot eventually…okay, before bed anyway. 

Megan hates to miss out on anything. She wants to be where the action is, and she does not deal well with any attempt to give something to the twins and not to her. As we’ve often said, she thinks she is a late-born triplet! But she’s starting to really interact with her siblings, which is fun to watch. You know…the hugs, the in-your-face discussions, the American Gothic-like poses (minus the pitchforks, of course). 

The twins definitely still like having her around (most days, anyway). We do have to make sure she’s not being bowled over by Alex when he’s blowing off his little-boy energy, but she’s a pretty tough little thing. And she and Erin have a normal, sisterly relationship: fighting over toys one minute, then dressing each other up the next. And I do credit Erin with Megan’s rather large vocabulary. The other day during dinner, Erin started jabbering at Megan, who was in her high chair across the table. It went something like this: “Hey, Megah…are you eating bread? Can you say “bread,” Megah? Huh? Can you say it?” Megan’s response (complete with head nod): “Yeah.”

Megan absolutely loves her Daddy still. He’s her favorite part of the day. And it’s not really surprising. She’s definitely a lot like her Daddy. She loves technology and anything with buttons to push and lights that she can interact with. But unlike Eric, she LOVES to wear “pretty” things, too – princess shoes, dress-up hats and clothes, and the occasional hair bow. (Eric will be glad I clarified that she didn’t get that from him. ) She still loves her pink elephant (her Pinkyderm, as her daddy dubbed it) and her “fishies” that swim on her sound machine at bedtime. And she gives the best hugs — the head-on-your-shoulder-and-pat-you-on-the-back kind — on command (though they can be a bit forceful and knock you right over if you aren’t prepared for them). 

But mostly she’s our adorable, active, happy, lovely little Megan. She’s a joy to have around, and she makes us laugh every day. We love you lots, Punkindoodle!

Okay, so it was a long week. One of those weeks where you pretty much cut it down to the basics, treading water until reinforcements or bedtime arrive (whichever comes first!). It wasn’t overly bad…just long. Very long.

Take Monday, for example. Monday was a potty training minefield. At 9:30, I was sure I was making some major leap forward when Alex, for the first time ever, actually said, “My underpants are wet” when we were practicing running to the potty (an idea offered by our pediatrician at last week’s 3 Year well-visit). And then at 9:50, he was pooping in his pants in the hallway. He then peed himself while sitting at the table for lunch (wet to his ankles by the time I found him), so I ran him to one potty and then put Erin on the other. I was running back and forth between bathrooms (on two different floors) when the stench hit me as I neared Erin’s perch. I turned into the room to find her standing on the stool, looking at the mirror, with poop in her underpants, and it took me a second to realize that she was standing on the stool, looking at the mirror. When I’d left, she was sitting happily on the potty. Which means she stood up, pulled up her pants, and then pooped when the urge hit her instead of sitting back down. 

Needless to say, I pretty much threw in the towel at that point and just got them both down for naps as quickly as possible. Seriously…

I have to say that I was surprised at how draining this week was. We actually played outside 2-3 days this week. We played at the mall one day. We jumped on our basement trampoline every day. We jumped on the couch cushions most days. We did crafts and played with stickers and read books and made cookies (not all of those things, every day, of course). 

But still…the week was hard.

Of course, it didn’t help that the twins, especially Erin, were up too early most days this week, so they were tired…and that always makes a difference. In fact, most of the meltdowns that happened in our house this week (theirs and mine) can be directly correlated to lack of sleep. 

And I guess the noise levels were another issue. For some reason, my kids just made noise all.week.long. They bickered. They yelled at each other. They hollered for me, to me, around me, behind me. Megan bellows if she thinks there was even a hint that the twins were favored with something she didn’t get. The twins bellow…well, for just about any reason. The crying sessions were long this week (mostly because we were tired, I think). There was just too much noise. 

Still…there were a lot of good things, too. Mom’s group on Thursday night. Multiple dinners that turned out so well Eric ate seconds and commented on how good they were. Actually got some writing done this week. Had really funny moments with my kids. Finishing two books in a single week. A date today with Eric to see a movie for free + free popcorn. And my MIL, who watched the kids for us today, picked up the toys, cleaned up my kitchen (even the floor), and generally had the house looking spiffy when we got back (Thanks again, Pam!). 

So, obviously, long is not the same thing as bad. Just long. And I guess that is just how some weeks go. Still…I’m hoping for a “shorter” week in the next seven days! That would be lovely…

We were at my parents’ house on Christmas day. Erin came in the kitchen talking on a toy phone, having a socially accurate and perfectly clear conversation with whomever she was imagining to be on the other end of line. I couldn’t help but wonder…Where’d she learn that?

Of course, the answer was obvious. From me. She learned by watching me, by listening to me, by observing me, her mom, who often spends an hour or more on the phone at one time with my sister or my mom. To be honest, I was pretty impressed. Her phone etiquette was amazing. Her conversation…perfect. I chuckled. And then I stopped as a second, quieter question crossed my mind. A scarier, much-more-important, prompted-by-the-Spirit kind of question. 

What else is she learning from me?

It was a serious question, which, in recent days, I’ve asked regularly. And so far, the answer has been altogether too convicting.

For example: 

The other day, I tried to turn on Mickey Mouse for my kids to watch. The computer searched for a bit and kicked me back to the main menu. Weird, I thought. I started it again when, out of the blue, Erin says, “Hey, Mommy, are you gonna cry out loud now?”

It took me a second and then it hit me. I say it all the time — “for crying out loud!” It means “Why won’t this thing just work, dangit, I’ve already tried it multiple times!” And it’s usually accompanied by a particularly unladylike (and un Christ-like) “grrrrrr” sound. So when Mickey had to be restarted, Erin very innocently wanted to know if I would be crying out loud this time. 

Ouch.

See, I know I’m an easily frustrated person. When things don’t go my way or when someone makes my life harder (which happens a lot with 3 toddlers in the house), I get huffy. Even angry. It’s not something I’m proud of. It’s a part of my personality that I’ve excused for years. And now, suddenly, my twins are 3, and I’m faced with the reality that my quick-anger, easily-frustrated, sharp-tongued, impatient reactions to everything (no matter how big or inconsequential) are teaching my kids something. 

Like when I ask where she put some little nothing and her first reaction is “I’m sorry, Mommy.” As if she has to apologize immediately…apparently to smooth out any chance that I may “cry out loud” at her because she didn’t have it.

Ouch. 

So, I’ve been trying to do some honest assessment…What are my kids learning from me?

Are they learning to judge people as somehow “less” because they don’t look like we do, don’t have what we have, don’t live like we live? Because that’s what I do.

Are they learning to get angry when things don’t go their way? Because that’s what I do.

Are they learning to yell at people while we’re driving, critiquing them and calling them names, because “well, they can’t hear my venting so it’s okay”? Because that’s what I do and think. 

Are they learning to only give to those people to whom it’s easy to give? Because that’s how I do it.

Are they learning to demand their own way, as fast as it can be handed to them? Because that’s how I function. 

And I also wondered…what could I be teaching my kids?

What if they saw me reading my Bible and praying as much in a day as I’m on the phone or computer? Would they absorb that as efficiently as they’ve picked up my lessons on “how to use social media”?

What if they saw me reach out to the unlovable neighbors, on purpose, because those are the people Jesus would reach out to?

What if I showed them that all people, even the ones who can’t hear what I’m saying, deserve to be respected and shown God’s love?

What if I spoke to them with grace instead of frustration, with patience instead of anger, with love instead of accusations?

I’ve often heard it said that God uses our kids to mold us as much as He uses us to mold them. And of course, it’s true. But to be honest, the reality that what I’m doing has a much greater impact on my kids than what I say to them has hit me hard recently. It’s a brutal truth, but I’m glad to see it now, instead of realizing it when they’re teenagers. And I’m glad that God intervenes, using us in spite of our brokenness to grow our kids into who He wants them to be, if both we and they will let Him. 

Of course, I definitely need to cry out loud less often. I probably need to talk on the phone less often, too. And a lot of other things as well. One day, I’d love to have that “gentle and quiet spirit” Peter talks about. I don’t have it. Not yet. But thankfully, I do have the Spirit of gentleness and peace…so there is hope for me yet. There is hope that I won’t completely screw my kids up. That the lessons Erin (and Alex and Megan) take away from our years together will be greater than how to use the phone and get frustrated over nothing. Because I can always start over today, turning back to him for guidance and wisdom and strength to live this life IN Him.

Which is, I’d guess, exactly what He was intending all along. 

Eric’s had the entire week off. This is the longest he’s been off work at one time since the twins were born…so, like, 3 years ago. It’s been good.

I took down our Christmas tree already. It was really hard to do, but it was in the way, forcing the post-Christmas mess into the remaining living areas, and there was nothing I could do until it came down. So, down it came. I usually leave it up for at least a full week after Christmas, but this year, I needed some SPACE more than I needed to see the pretty tree. And I still have all the rest of my decorations up, so it’s not a total Scrooge thing. 

Eric put together my new shelves (think square shelves with fabric cubes to hold stuff) this morning. LOVE that my parents got them for me. LOVE how much stuff those cubes hold. LOVE how much cleaner the house is already.

I (with a bit of help from Eric) put together the little bike my parents got for Megan today. It has handles so that I can steer her while I push, and as she gets bigger, she can pedal herself. She loved it. She would have let me push her around our first floor for the whole evening if I’d wanted to. Sadly for her, I did not want to. But the smiles were pretty darn sweet!

Today, my niece turned 1. Happy Birthday, McKenna!

I finished the Inheritance cycle by Christopher Paolini yesterday. I got the full set as an early Christmas present and read all 4 books in the month of December. Overall, the whole story was well-told, the ending was fitting (not exactly happy, but as it should be), and I enjoyed it. I miss reading sometimes, but I don’t split my attention well when I read, so it’s hard to keep a good balance between disappearing into my books and staying on top of my kids. Oh well…I guess I’ll just keep reading and hope for the best. 

And, to finish, a quick list of some favorite things/moments from Christmas (not conclusive and in no particular order):

• My new diamond earrings from Eric
• The look on my kids faces when they saw their stockings on Christmas morning
• Megan bringing me Erin’s little bottle of nail polish and tapping it on my feet while saying “Pink!”
• Nights of hot chocolate and Christmas shows with my kids
• My brother generously giving my son all his matchbox cars from when he was a kid (and Alex loves them!)
• Erin getting the hang of her new pink scooter
• Watching my parents try to out-give each other again this year
• Sitting in church with my whole family on Christmas morning
• My brother’s bear hug, thanking me for his gift
• Making cookies with my kids (even if we did have to add 1/4 c. of maple syrup to the corn syrup for the Scotcheroos…and no, you can’t even taste it!)
• Watching the kids enjoy ice cream with sprinkles for dessert’

And many more, of course! I hope everyone had a very merry Christmas…can’t believe it’s almost the new year.  Guess I better start thinking about resolutions, huh? Or not…

Happy Thursday!

Every so often a real thought pops into my head. It doesn’t happen as often as it used to, and sadly there are very few situations wherein I can express the thoughts I do have. So I figured I should start blogging about them occasionally. Who knows…maybe you’ve got some thoughts to share, too…

Anyway, this week’s thought has to do with change. Specifically, HOW we change. You know, putting off the sin nature and living like Jesus. How exactly do we do that?

Like my friend who was saying recently that she’d been convicted about the grumbling and complaining she’d been doing. She knew she needed to stop. And it just kept coming up: sermons on the radio, verses she read, conversations with other people. You know, it just kept coming back up. So, she tried and tried, really hard, to stop complaining. She started on Sunday, and she did okay…until Tuesday morning. And then back down the rabbit hole she went. 

And I wondered about it. 

Because that’s pretty much what I do, too. I become aware of an area I really need to work on. And I try really hard not to do that thing anymore. And like my friend, it lasts about a day and a half. And like my friend, it’s really frustrating. 

So what’s a girl to do?

Well, one thing I have decided is that God does NOT want me to try harder to be more like Jesus. In fact, the last thing God wants from me is more effort. 

Take patience, for example. See, I know I’m not a patient person. I’m not. And I’ve spent a lot of years trying to be more patient, with people and circumstances and whatever. But of course, it hasn’t much changed. And the reason is…I can’t create patience. See, trying harder assumes I actually have a store of patience that I can choose to draw from (or not). But that’s not how it works. In reality, I have no patience. Not just…I lack that personality trait. No, it’s literally not there. There’s no store to draw from. So I got to thinking…if I’m supposed to be patient (and the Bible says I am) but I don’t have any to use, where is it supposed to come from?

And so far, the best answer I’ve come up with goes back an incredibly simple and basic (but incredibly difficult) concept: the fruit of the Spirit. Because the Bible is very clear that patience IS a fruit of the Spirit. So…if I want to be more patient, I can’t try harder. That’s more of ME. I need less of me and more of the Spirit. I need more of Jesus.

It’s like the fruit of the Spirit is a bunch of tools in a toolbox. It’s all the stuff I’m supposed to be and let be active in my life (you know…love, joy, peace, kindness, self-control, etc). But see, the problem is that it’s not MY toolbox. I can’t just use the patience in the box on my own. Sure, I try to. I get to a place in my day or my life that needs fixing (working on a sin, dealing with my kids, changing my thought patterns, standing in line, responding to the jerk who cut me off in traffic…you know, that kind of stuff), and I know exactly what tool I need. And the conversation goes something like this:

Me: Hey Jesus? I need more patience. Can you toss that one here? Thanks!

Jesus: (a muffled reply that’s too far away to hear clearly)

Me: What? No, no just throw it to me. I don’t need any help. I know how to use it…I just can’t reach it right now. Thanks…

And not surprisingly, it never works out. Maybe I’m patient for half of a second longer than I would have been otherwise, but no lasting change takes place. And why is that? Because I can’t borrow the tools without working with the Guy who actually owns the toolbox.

And it belongs to Jesus. No matter how hard I try, I can’t use the tools correctly. They aren’t mine. I need Jesus to use the tool in my life. He can’t just toss me more patience while He stands off to one side. He has to bring me the patience and teach me how to use it wherever I am. It’s like my husband trying to show one of our kids how to use a screwdriver (because I’m not patient enough to teach them myself ). He has to hold it and help them turn it correctly. 

In other words, I’m coming to realize that I can’t keep asking just for more patience. I need to start asking for more JESUS…and the patience will, necessarily, follow. I can’t create patience (or any of that other stuff) because those “tools” don’t stand alone. They are really the evidence that He is actually with me, in that moment, that situation, that reality. He won’t just toss me the tools and let me go at it (okay, He will, but just to teach me how ineffective that method actually is). What He really wants is to come and work IN me, His hands on mine, enabling me to act and react differently because He is there. He wants me to ask for HIMSELF! And when I have Him, the other stuff just automatically flows. 

Which means that…trying harder is really never going to accomplish a change. It’s going to discourage me. Dishearten me. Drive me farther away from Him. And that’s not what either of us want. 

Instead, I have to learn a new way of pursuing this change. No more focusing only on the “thing” I want. Stop asking for more patience…start asking for a better view of Jesus. Find Him and the patience will follow. My friend can’t focus on trying to stop complaining. She needs to start looking for Jesus in the situations feeding her complaints and as she finds Him, she won’t have any more need to complain…because He is now in that situation with her. 

Anyway, that’s what I’ve been thinking. Honestly, I have no idea if any of that makes sense. And yes, I do realize that this topic is much bigger than this one blog can cover. But still…feel free to comment, add your thoughts, disagree, clarify a point, whatever. I just thought it would be worth the time to think the thoughts out with words. Or start to…

Happy Wednesday!

So yeah…it turned out to be a fantastic weekend…

Friday night I went to an ornament exchange with Karen and hung out with some ladies, some of whom I knew and some of whom I didn’t. 

On Saturday morning, Eric got ready and I packed some stuff and we loaded up the kids in the van. Then he took them out to the farm for the day. They had a blast with their Grandma Hogue. An absolute blast. They made cookies in all sorts of Christmas shapes, plus some other shapes, plus with their initials. They made ornaments, too. One ornament was a star with their picture in the middle and “jewels” glued to some of the arms. The other ornament was their hand print. Even Megan got in on the act. What a great memory for them…seriously!

And for me…well…I stayed home. After they left, I got myself ready and then started working on Christmas. I set out what I had so I could see what I was missing. I ordered a few more presents online. Then I headed out for Christmas shopping. I went to stores, lots of them. I went in, wandered around as long as I wanted, and left. No hauling in 3 little people and hurrying so that we avoid a meltdown at all costs. I moseyed. I browsed. I randomly went into stores that weren’t in my original shopping plan. Because I could! And it was lovely. Truly lovely.

In fact, I pretty much finished my Christmas shopping. I have like one or two little stocking stuffers to pick up. And that’s it! AND, I stopped a Payless that’s going out of business and got 6 pairs of shoes for the twins for about $65, including a pair of winter boots for each of them that were original priced at $40 each. Fab.u.lous!

Anyway, I left the house about 11 and got home at 4:30. The house was a mess; the kitchen was too. And you know what I did. NOTHING! I sat on a chair and read a book until I wanted supper. I watched TV while I ate, then went back to my book. I read for hours…I even made myself real hot chocolate with milk! I can’t even tell you how wonderful it was to have a whole day when no one needed me, no one hung on me, no one changed my schedule. It was great!

Of course, when they pulled into the garage about 8:30, I was more than glad to see them and hear about how much they’d enjoyed their day. But for a few hours, it was great to just be by myself and do my own thing. It was a much-needed break!

On Sunday, we went to church, then after dinner, I met Karen and my parents at the mall. We do a yearly shopping trip where I go with my dad and she goes with my mom and we just shop. Then we met our kids/husbands at a restaurant for supper which was much fun, too. 

And when I walked in from supper out, I discovered that my incredible husband had cleaned my entire kitchen while I was gone.  It was spotless…and I was almost speechless.

So yeah…it was definitely a fabulous weekend. I was refreshed, I got stuff done, and I started this week actually feeling ahead of things for the first time in a long time. And I can’t thank my MIL and husband enough for the break. They really outdid themselves on my behalf. I’ll remember this feeling for a long time…okay, at least until Wednesday, I think!

Things I’ve thought or seen this week…

1. I do not know how single parents do it. Man…to those who find themselves in that place…you’re incredible!

2. Every morning, the twins come down the stairs, announcing, “Mommy! I saw a deven (seven) in my room! And I jump up and find you!” It simply amazes them that every morning that seven appears just in time for them to get up. Oh the joy of being 3!

3. We learned yesterday that Megan can actually say – in order – most of the numbers from 2-10. I’m not sure she’s actually counting as much as parroting the words since she hears them so often (we count with the twins a lot). But still…

4. One of the things I struggle with most of all is readjusting my expectations to match the realities of life. 

5. The other night, Eric called me downstairs to see something. It was Alex. He had stripped himself to his birthday suit and was jumping on our new trampoline, laughing himself silly. Sadly, I did not get a picture…

6. I broke my kitchen faucet on Wednesday night. Apparently it was not my super-human strength as much as the corrosion of a part in the handle. Thankfully, my husband can fix such things. Though we have to wait for the part he ordered to arrive before he can fix it correctly. So for now, I am using a piece of wood he screwed into the base to turn the water on and off. Hey, at least he’s creative AND handy!

7. This could be a long winter if these few weeks of rain are any indication. By the end of the day, the noise level in my house (mostly caused by my little man) has pretty much stretched my nerves taut. And they get louder as it gets closer to bedtime. I have NO idea how we’re all going to last.

8. My house is trashed again, and I am struggling to stay ahead of it. However, I did catch my ironing up completely the other night. At least that’s one thing the kids can’t undo 36 seconds after I’ve finished with it.

9. Dinner last night was an EPIC fail. My crockpot meal burned (and wasn’t right even if it hadn’t burned) and then I burned my quick-fix meal, too. Not as badly, but still. How do you burn 2 meals in a single day? At least my husband doesn’t consider taste an important criterion to determine whether or not to eat something. (Man…he really is a catch, isn’t he!?!)

10. I think Eric is going to take the kids to the farm for a one-day trip tomorrow. So I can have a whole day to do some shopping and get stuff ready for Christmas. If it all goes to plan…it’s going to be a good and productive day. At least that’s what I’m hoping!

And my kids are finishing their snack, so that’s all I have time to type up right now…happy Friday!

So we’ve had quite the birthday weekend around here.

Thursday, I tried to think of special things to do with the twins on their actual birthday. So they got a couple of can of play-doh to play with (we don’t do this often…I’m sure you can guess why!) in the morning. And we met my dad for lunch, which all 3 kids really enjoyed. Actually, I think my dad enjoyed it too! After naps, we played until Eric got home, bringing birthday dessert (mini whoopee pies). After dinner, they each got a whoopee pie with a candle in it. They giggled hysterically while we sang Happy Birthday to them and then blew their candles out with relish! They tore into gifts with that same relish, come to think of it. 

Erin got a stroller for her dolls. Alex got a rug with a road design on it for driving his cars and trucks. And they got a Curious George Christmas movie to share. Of course, we had all had a really rough night’s sleep the night before, so by that time, the kids were all fighting meltdowns. Erin wanted to play with Alex’s new toy, which he didn’t want to share. Megan wanted to chew on Erin’s new stroller, which set Erin off even more. Eventually, we did settle down to enjoy the toys a bit before bath and bed. 

Of course, bedtime was an unusually emotional time, too. For weeks, the twins have been reciting their mantra: “I number 2, but I gonna be number 3, and then I be a big boy (or girl) and I not need my pacifier!” Unfortunately, the reality of that mantra was pretty hard on them. They were overstimulated, way sugared-up, and over tired. And when they realized that we were serious about not getting them their pacifiers, Alex melted into a huge puddle of tears and sadness, and Erin looked up at me with big tear-filled eyes and sobbed, “I don’t want to be three!” 

(And truth be told, it was pretty hard on us, too…this reality that our kids had to learn — that growing up inevitably requires loss, that getting “big” also means putting away dearly loved, special times and things and activities. It’s a reality of life that still hits us hard, when things change, or loved ones pass away, or the “magic” of life that is inherent in childhood gets buried under the mundane realities of adulthood. It’s hard to watch your kids cross those bridges, small though they still are for now, and it makes you think of all the bridges, much bigger ones, that they will have to cross in the not-so-distant future. Yeah…our kids weren’t the only ones who felt tears that night…)

Thankfully, the over-tiredness eventually worked in our favor, and they soon fell asleep. Alex did come to the bathroom the next morning, looking deeply distressed, and told me very sadly, “I lost my pacifier.” It was heartbreaking. And nap times have been the hardest because they talk to each other instead of falling asleep. But we are making the adjustment to life without pacifiers. And I might not wait until 3 to take Megan’s. I’m not sure I can do this process again!

Anyway, Friday was spent playing with new toys, watching our new movie, and getting ready for the party on Saturday. I made the cakes and used the party as an excuse to do a lot of cleaning and sorting, which was a very good feeling. (Actually, if anyone wants to take my kids for a few hours so I can do that to the rest of my house…man, that would be great!)

And then it was Saturday. I got up at 6:30 to exercise before the rest of the house woke up and also cleaned up the basement. Eric and I spent the morning working on my to-do list. I finished decorating the cake (no pictures yet…sorry) and then we all cleaned and decorated. The twins helped me put Curious George decals on the wall – which they LOVED. Eric and I moved a bunch of toys to the basement to make a “playroom” for the kids that night and set up extra seating where the toys usually live. The kids went down for naps and I left to pick up food and balloons. I got home, and it wasn’t long until our first guests arrived!  And the party began!

The twins had a blast, I know. The people, the presents, the cake…fun, fun, fun, fun, fun! They got dress-up clothes, a kid-sized trampoline, new clothes, personalized ornaments, new toys…seriously, I don’t think we need Christmas after all of that! But overall, I think it went really well. Eric put together the trampoline and they jumped for a bit after baths (and first thing this morning because it was about the first thing Alex thought of…Thanks Mom and Dad!). Again we were overtired and overstimulated. But still, it was a very, very good party which they enjoyed immensely.

Of course, Sunday morning hit them pretty hard. We’ve had a number of meltdowns today, so church was followed quickly by lunch and nap (which are still in progress, thankfully). And I think the rest of the day, I will focus on lowering the level of excitement and stimulation.

But still, it was a pretty amazing birthday weekend for a couple of sweet little 3-year olds. And I’m glad I have a whole year to recover before we do it again!