December 3rd

Today is December 3rd, 2009, and exactly one year ago today, Chris and I had a terrible lunch at McCallister's Deli in Shreveport. No, the food wasn't bad. It was just the random location where we began to recover from a heart-breaking doctor's visit. We found out that day that the unborn twins I was carrying both had a permanently disabling birth defect called Spina Bifida.

What we were thinking THEN:

This is not fair. People have perfectly healthy babies every day. I have never smoked or even been a drinker. Young girls pop babies out all the time and don't even get pre-natal care. Some people don't even want their beautiful babies, and ours were PLANNED! Is it cruel to make them face a life full of challenges and health issues? Will they even make it? What quality of life will they have? Will they ever be independent? What have we done to Ellie (our then 18 month old)? Will she hate us for bringing home these special babies? How will we do this?

What we are thinking NOW:

Look at those perfect little chunky monkeys. They bring us joy every single day, and yes, it's tough sometimes. So far, other than a few surgeries and more doctor's visits than anyone would want to make, our lives are basically . . . . dare I say it?  Normal. This is our new normal, and we are ok -- better than ok. Our boys, Jack and Woody, have taught us to focus on what matters, and fuhgettabout the rest of it. Looking back, I needed to be reminded of what life is really about, and it's not about being this smiling family of three on a white couch in matching Christmas sweaters. And it's not about living in a large and perfectly decorated home with an impressive financial portfolio. It's about people. Family. Love and laughter. Accepting one another and forgiving one another. Being a friend when someone's hurting. And keeping your mouth shut when you think you know better than them. It's about loving God and each other. If life isn't an adventure, then what's the point?

Updates at 8 months old:
Woody is eating from a spoon -- veggies, fruits, smooshy big people food, etc. He has one tooth finally, and he has had a little cold lately but has otherwise been a very healthy little man. We are excited about his progress with head and trunk control in physical therapy. He has been grasping much better and "da-da"ing up a stinkin' storm! We will follow up with the urologist, as Woody is having a little trouble emptying his bladder lately, but we'll take one day at a time.

Jack refuses to eat from a spoon and just wants his bottle, even though he has 3, going on 4, teeth! He is able to sit supported for a few minutes and has rolled from his belly to his back a couple times. He loves his toys and has also been making lots of adorable babbles like "ba-ba", "da-da," and "ma-ma"! We had a little scare with the respiratory funk last month, but after some breathing treatments, he perked right back up after a few days.

Both boys have leg movements at times, and they are starting to use their upper legs more and more to move and kick. We have high hopes for these two -- they are very social and very lovable. Ellie is a proud big sister, who loves to make her "boys" smile and laugh. She finds Woody's paci when he needs it and asks where they are as soon as she comes into the house. She knows they're here to stay, and she thinks that's ok!

No matter what medical stuff we might face in the future, we are so happy to have our family just as they are -- so perfect and so special.

Stuff

I was watching a reality show last night (yes, occasionally I get to watch tv once the kids are down). The family on the show decided to go camping for the weekend, so the mom was making sure they had all the gear for the trip. They were going up to the Hood River area of Oregon where they could wind surf, but for the camping part, they just needed the usual: tents, sleeping bags, lanterns. She started off looking in a barn, and climbed up a ladder to look in this one HUGE area of their storage . . . wrong barn. After trying one more barn and two storage sheds, all filled with boxes, plastic containers, and huge shelves of stuff, she found the tents in yet another storage shed behind the house. The mom started getting frustrated since there were four of five tents piled in there, but the first few she found were missing poles, dirty, or hard to get to. Eventually she just got disgusted and yelled for her four kids to get into the mini-van to go to a sporting goods store. Yep -- they bought two NEW tents and new sleeping bags for all five people, since theres were "getting run down" anyway.

This got me thinking. And got me a little convicted.

You can probably finish this blog in your head -- it's materialism. Stuff. Stuff to hold other stuff. Stuff to store stuff. Stuff to clean stuff. Stuff to make a list of the stuff. Stuff on top of the old stuff. New stuff. We have closets of stuff we haven't looked through in years. I found a box under the bed a few months ago from our move to this house . . . almost five years ago. I hadn't opened it since then.

The other day I had the luxury of wasting time in a flea market, and this place was PACKED with stuff. Forgotten stuff. Stuff that seems to no longer have value to most people. Odd dishes, toys, tablecloths, coffee mugs, cd players, posters, puzzles, candleholders, old video gaming systems, VHS tapes -- old stuff. There was also a room with new stuff (stolen? I won't guess). $75 purses, bags, and wallets -- girly stuff. Decorative stuff -- clocks,  wall hangings, ocean breeze scented decorative potpourri balls in a bowl-- sheesh. While I was there a guy traded his own cell phone on the spot for a used amp and speaker system for his car -- those ones that "boom boom" your headache into existence on the way home from work at the red light.

We also started our Christmas shopping this past weekend. Chris and I had our first night away with no kids in 8 months! It was very nice, and we discovered that Lebanon can keep their food (not a big fan of kibbe with burghul -- blech), but we figured we'd fit Chrismas shopping into our day out. First stop: Toys 'R Us -- a.k.a. "Stuffville" for kids. It was so overwhelming in there. Stuff piled up so high, multiple employees are stocking, locating, and climbing nonstop to get the stuff to you. They talk to one another on walkie-talkies to help you find the stuff you want. We saw a little boy kicking and screaming at his parents, while, at the very same time, they were trying to find help to get a $400 Cadillac Escalade motorized riding toy down from this shelf. For this same kid. For Christmas. The kicking one. The one screaming at them to "shut up."

It's all just overwhelming sometimes, isn't it? I've heard lots of people talking about moving stuff out or packing stuff up to make room for the new stuff they'll get for Christmas. A lot of families have scaled down the gift giving this year since many of us are still a little on edge over the economy, but scaling down for most will still include a pretty obscene amount of stuff.

I love giving gifts, although I'm not the best shopper; I love getting gifts (I've found a new perfume I like -- Bath and Body Works "Velvet Tuberose" if you're taking notes); I absolutely love the look on a kid's face when he opens a toy that seems too good to be true; I hope Ellie loves her dollhouse. But after watching that woman on the tv show dig through piles of stuff only to decide that her stuff wasn't good enough and she should go buy newer, better stuff, I felt like I was drowning in stuff. Maybe we can make just a few changes to stop, or at least slow, the "Cycle of Stuff". Even if we can ignore the less fortunate in our own country, not to mention the much greater needs in less developed countries, it's also just not logical to accumulate tons of stuff, only to discover we can't afford to buy the steak to eat off of our new Christmas china.

So, instead of buying an Inflatable Nativity Scene:

or a Snowman Toilet Cover . . .

This Christmas, maybe we should save that money and give it in the name of Jesus to someone next door or across the globe who would think they hit the jackpot if I gave them all the crap in my storage shed I don't even know is there. Not preaching to anyone besides me. Just saying.

Bed Head

Ellie's ridiculous morning hair strikes again!

"I Feel Like I'm Falling for Fall"

This title is the name of a song they've been playing on NickJr, and I second that -- Fall is the best season, isn't it? I've been able to get the kids out without the heat driving us back inside after 10 minutes. But we are having a rather WET Fall so far, so we've had to sit and watch the rain a lot, too.

Speaking of the rain, I have always wanted to be one of those prepared people.

She has an umbrella ready, maybe even rain boots. The one with her cute little stainless steel water bottle hooked to an adorable backpack, and healthy treats stored in cute containers stacked neatly in the pantry for the little ones. Kleenex and moist wipes tucked into a trendy diaper bag for use when she's in Walmart. She gets up early to eat a healthy breakfast, read her Bible, load up the crockpot with an amazing new dinner recipe -- nutritious and inexpensive, of course -- and take a long relaxing shower to prepare for the day. Last night's leftovers stored in a tidy tupperware box, so she can pull it out and stand in line for the microwave in the faculty lounge. Homemade babyfood lining the refrigerator shelves labeled with the date and contents. Laundry hamper with cute titles like "Daddy's Duds." All three kids' outfits lying neatly on the bed waiting for little hands and feet to jump in. Hats and gloves labeled and safety-pinned to their coordinating jackets for easy locating. Maybe before they head out the door, she'll pull out one of the ziploc bags holding a craft project she's prepared ahead for an afternoon activity . . .

I want to be her, but I am resigned to be:

The mom who drops the two-year-old at preschool and discovers she forgot to wipe the oatmeal of her face but has no wipes in the van or the bag, and notices her jacket's getting a little too snug. And wasn't she supposed to bring a pack of pull-ups today? Gets soaking wet getting back into the car because she didn't watch the weather and had no clue it was supposed to storm. Arrives at work and thinks seriously about buying a one dollar bottle of water and maybe a cup of coffee, too, since she still hasn't located her favorite travel mug. I bet it's under the seat in the van -- everything ends up there. But, she reconsiders, due to the guilt of being environmentally and financially irresponsible. Instead, she steals a small cup of coffee from her office neighbor and heads into her office. She hears her stomach rumbling . . . breakfast. She knew she forgot something. . . hmmm. A pack of trail mix in the drawer will do, and she'll just use her precious work time to read a quick devotional thought or listen to a Christian podcast. So glad she took a quick bath with the rowdy little one last night, or her officemate might request a transfer. She takes a second to call the babysitter because she thinks she left the iron on and wants to remind her to keep the key handy since the garage door is broken. The twins need a bath, too; they didn't get one last night, but she thinks they're out of baby wash. Oh and can she pull a pound of hamburger out of the freezer -- not sure what she'll make for supper with it, but she'll figure it out when she gets home. ..

A Case of the Mondays

There are two "myths" I know for sure are true (well, surely more than that, but still):

1. The Full Moon Thing.

I know -- "luna"tics, "luna"cy, werewolves. . . heck, pagans have a holiday for the full moon, don't they? It shouldn't be true, but it just is, so hush. Kid not sleeping well tonight? E.R. full of people with crazy weird injuries? Betcha it's a full moon. . . if you've ever been a teacher, a mom, or a healthcare provider, you believe me. Maybe it's the atmosphere or the devil or whatever, but full moon=craziness at night, man. HOWWWWWL!

2. The Mondays.

We've all had them -- days that just stink. They start off badly, they end badly, and we lose it at some point and want to curl back up in the bed and try getting up again and start over. And those days . .. lemme just ask. . . aren't they always Mondays? I had one yesterday. I wrote to a dear friend that my day this past Monday was frightful, but probably could be entertaining to someone on the outside looking in. So, why not . . .

This past Monday, I woke up and felt like poopie to begin with (Woody was up at 12, 3, 5), but I actually had Ellie up, the boys changed and fed, and I was halfway ready myself by 7, which is pretty good for us. We had an appointment for Woody in Bossier City at the neurosurgeon to follow-up on his second shunt revision (BOOOO), but my appointment card showed a date and no time. I figured I'd just call on the way to be sure -- they always make it some time between 9 and 10 anyway.

We got in the car at 8. . . no gas. Of course. Gassed up, and ready to go (late). I grabbed my coffee cup (coffeee. . . . . .glorious coffeeeeee) and it was a cup I don't usually use. Yep. I was drinking from the wrong part of the cup. The boiling-freaking-hot coffee came out and poured down my chin onto my chest (all while I was driving through town). I squealed and tried not to wreck my mini-van. I wondered what to do (I felt like I had been showered in acid). My face in the rearview mirror looked like I had been laying out at the beach and forgot to put sunscreen on my chin, neck, and chest -- no lie. I was beet red, not to mention I was going to a place of business with coffee all down my front. Do I need to get first aid ointment of some type? Where could I stop? I'd have to get both babies out of the car to do that, and we're late. Crud. Oh well, surely it'll be ok.

On I-49 about 8:15 (several miles north of town) I called the doc to check on the appointment time. No answer. That's odd, I thought. Try again. No answer. I let it ring through to the answering service: "Ma'am, they're closed today for Columbus Day."

Columbus Day? Really? Some Italian mistakenly lands in the Bahamas centuries ago and suddenly I'm on the interstate with twins for no reason? So, instead, we go to physical therapy (which I had cancelled for my non-existant appointment in Shreveport). The boys cry all the way through their session (30 bucks co-pay down the drain), since they were grumpy and tired from being in their carseats for 40 minutes -- FOR NO REASON -- either that or they were frightened by the jacked up appearance of their coffee-burnt caregiver.

Still don't believe in the Mondays?

There's a Two-Year-Old in the House

Ellie is quite the comedian these days, but not on purpose. Everything she comes up with makes us scratch our heads. Some of you who have ever had a two-year-old in the house will remember how cute this stage is. Here is a top ten list of crazies for this week:

10. We were riding in the van to go to "school", and she noticed the clouds: "Mommy, look . . . clouds in a sky! . . . That one is a parrot." How does she come up with that?

9. She knew I had to leave to go to work one day, and she started to get upset and wanted to go with me. I told her I was going to the doctor. . . she looked over at the babysitter and said "I stay with Nicole!"

8. We were in Walmart, and I had to pick up a baby seat I ordered online. We had to go back to the "Site to Store" which is the very back (where layaway used to be). When we walked back there, Ellie started screaming and saying she wanted to leave -- real tears, shaking, the whole nine yards. All I can figure is that she thought I was really sneaking her into a doctor's office -- she thought the ladies are nurses since they had on the blue vests . . . she really has a phobia! What do we do when we have to go to the dentist or get booster shots??

7. I was chopping onions to cook for our dinner, and she walked up and demanded some. I said, "Onions?" And she replied, "Yes." Well, I don't really have to describe what happened when I let her take a big bite! I guess she thought they were like apples.

6. She has a habit of digging out stuff in the computer desk, and one of her favorite treasures is paper of any type. I asked her to bring a book to me for bed time one night, and she brought me one of her favorites about all the animals going to sleep. When we started reading, every page had an index card inserted in it. We collected about 15 before we were finished.

5. She attempted to paint her fingernails and toenails, while (again) I was preocuppied with Jack and Woody. She managed to do a pretty good job; well, she got one finger and one toe finished before I discovered her! So, instead of making a big deal, I told her I would paint them for her, but she informed me that "Mommy no paint toes. Nene paint toes." Well, get to walking to Covington, Ellie. (Her aunt Janine lives down south, and I guess she thought only her Nene could do that).

4. She loves to go out to eat, but with the boys being part of the family now, we never get to do that anymore. Every time we drive through, go in to get take-out, or even drive by a restaurant, she asks in the sweetest little voice, "Ellie go WIN?" I hate having to tell her we can't. . . maybe one day, sister.

3. She likes watching football with her Daddy (well, he likes to think so). Whenever the players line up, she says "Set . . Go!" and runs across the living room. She calls EVERY sport involving a ball "baseball." Some of the time sees right. Oh well.

2. She looked up at the sunflower wallpaper border in our kitchen one morning, and with wide eyes, she began this little conversation:

Ellie: "Pumas, Mommy!"
Mama: "What, Baby?"
Ellie: "Pumas!"
Mama: "Where are the pumas, Ellie?"
Ellie: "Hiding behind the flowers!"

1. On the kitchen table, we have a basket, which is usually holding apples, oranges, or whatever fruit we have on hand. Ellie climbed on the table the other day while I was (once again) preoccupied with the twins, and took one bite out of every apple in the basket! I told her if she had asked, I'd have just given her an apple. She said, "Ohhh . . . OK."

Ellie, you crack me up.

Spiders and Such

So I found three poisonous spiders on our back patio in the last week or so. . . yikes. One was a black widow, and two were brown widows. Have you ever heard of these? They're brown (obviously) and a little smaller and more venomous than the black variety (yay). Apparently, all spiders are "poisonous," but these dudes are like the Godfathers of the other ones. You could actually die from a bite if you don't get to the hospital stat, and lots of people don't realize exactly what's happened unless they see the darn thing. My rather attractive (alright, really good-looking) bug man told us there's not a whole heckuva lot we can do about them, since you have to have a "direct kill" to get rid of them. Inside the house looks uncontaminated by pests, but I have 3 little ones, so I didn't want to do the whole spray-the-heck-out-of-everything-just-in-case scenario. Instead, we tried to knock down any webs we could see, eliminate the environments they like -- underbrush, piles of things we haven't pulled out and used in a while, small dark places -- and if we see one, kill it (sorry little Italian mob bosses).

No more scary spiders so far, but it did get me thinking about the habits of these bugs. They are reclusive, and they don't bite unless provoked. They also let everyone know they're evil with the red/orange areas on either their backs or bellies. It's like a "don't mess with me, sucka" warning sign. If only the other evil in the world were so courteous. Don't you see people who get caught up in terrible stuff? Unknowingly, they're lured in and take the bait. Then, months later, they are in a pickle. Friends of ours got sucked into a sales idea that's pretty much a pyramid deal (you know -- get your friends to sell this and you can just sit back and watch the money roll in -- right). I know, you thought I was going for drug abuse, alcoholism, or insert deep dark sin here, and I guess that's true too. But I'm thinking of the other evil out there. The way your brain starts to accept backward ideas about things and you don't realize you are becoming a different person. Maybe it's a certain person's opinion or an entire world view that seems innocent enough. One day you wake up and realize all the time you've lost being an idiot. Maybe it's just me. At least widow spiders give you a heads up, that's all I'm saying. You're know you're messin' with danger with those little boogers.

On a very unrelated but more upbeat note, my little boys are now 6 months old! Their aunt Neen called to wish them a happy 1/2 birthday yesterday, and until then I had sort of forgotten. I try so hard not waste energy worrying about them -- they're in God's hands, and they are little miracles no matter what happens. Jack has started to really get into his toys, and Woody's slowly getting to be himself again after surgery. I can't wait to start their physical therapy -- we've waited so long to get that started. I know Ellie is excited she can make them laugh and keep them happy now. She won't know what to think when they start to become more mobile. She calls them both Jack . . . half the time she's right!

6 months old . . . half a year . . . 182.621099 days . . . I just read an article about a guy who was sentenced to six months in jail for yawning. He was in court and charged with contempt (he wasn't even on trial). Wow. What would he have gotten if he had farted? Sorry.

This was also the first week of Ellie's preschool. She absolutely loves it; she tries to tell me everything she does, and I don't understand a word of it, since she talks so fast. All I can catch is that she "pways with fwends" and "take tuhns." Chris can recall going to Pre-K and telling his mom he would "go to school forever". It's so true -- if not school, then work . . . for the rest of your life. What's with the long sentence? It's not like we yawned in court.