Theodore Nelson and Samuel Francis were born at 3:35 p.m. and 3:36 p.m. respectively on March 18th. A multiple pregnancy is something that would require another entry or two to talk about. It was amazing but also physically and emotionally challenging. It was a bit daunting standing at the window to the nursery just two days after their birth, pointing out Teddy and Sam to their 17-month-old big brother. I had a hard time wrapping my head around the idea of having two babies to bring home with us. As I think back, it's hard to believe how seamless the transition was. Big-brother Bobby took to his role with ease. For the first few days he didn't like it when the two would cry. He would cry too, point to them and say, "Baby" as if pleading with us to make it stop. It didn't take long for him to get past that and soon he began to mimic what he saw mom and dad do when the babies cried. He brings toys to them, pats their heads, rubs their bellies or covers them with blankets. He is such a sweet boy.
At first I wondered how we were going to tell them apart. They looked so much alike with BIG chubby cheeks and little dark eyes. The only thing that really stood out was the difference in their complexion. It didn't take long however before the differences in their looks as well as their personalities shown through. Sam is a sweet docile little guy with a dimple in his left cheek. He loves to cuddle. Teddy is an outgoing boy with wide eyes. He is a mover. They are alike in the ways that most brothers are alike: the enjoy mealtime, like to play, and laugh when they watch big brother and Molly-dog chase eachother.
I wonder if you can tell what kind of a child/teenager/adult someone will be by watching them when they are just six-months old. If you can tell, I wonder what this says about Teddy and Sam:
The other day I was juggling three little boys during mealtime. Teddy was the least urgent as evidenced by his lack of fussing or crying. I had given the babies part of their bottles and Teddy acted as though he were done while Sam still wanted his. Bobby was in the kitchen and I could hear the refrigerator door opening. (Yes, Bobby gets into the refrigerator on his now and has for a couple months at least!) Thankfully, Sam is able to hold his own bottle. So as Bobby began making his wishes known at the top of his lungs, I put Sam and Teddy in their crib (they do share a crib for the time being) and made sure Sam had a good hold on his bottle.
I was in the kitchen long enough to ascertain that Bobby required a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and string cheese before I heard Sam begin to cry. I entered the room and saw Teddy with Sam's bottle in the crook of his arm and his leg on Sam's stomach. I put the bottle back in Sam's mouth and helped him get a good hold on it again, then moved Teddy over to his corner of the crib. For good measure I turned on the mobile to give Teddy something to focus on because apparently he was bored.
I went back into the kitchen to prepare the pb and j I had promised Big Brother as he sat chewing on his string cheese. There was just enough time for me to spread the peanut butter before Sam was crying again. I went back in the room to find the bottle again in Teddy's arm and Teddy resting an open hand on Sam's head as if to comfort him. Teddy's face was so calm and innocent it made the situation that more comical, though I know Sam didn't think it was funny. However, mom is a fast learner, I returned the bottle to Sam and put Teddy in his swing!
It's so much fun to watch the twin baby boys interact. When one cries the other seems to reach out with a hand (or a foot) as if to comfort them. I've seen them lock eyes and exchange smiles. They both pay very close attention to their big brother too. Such precious little ones. There are times they both do need something at the same time but we all just work it out somehow. The babies seem to understand that they are not the only one. This life with three boys would be all the more difficult if they were not so patient. I am sure, as time goes by, that there will be much more to share and while I may not have a plan for every circumstance, I look forward to what is to come.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Thick as Thieves
I had considered titling this post "Molly + Bobby=WMD" but decided against it. But to say that our little Westie, Molly and our soon-to-be-two year old Bobby are thick as thieves is also true. Perhaps their destruction is not "mass", just local. Let me tell you about it.
Pete says I have the magic touch with scratch offs. He doesn't win when he does it, but apparently there's something about the way I "scratch" that just results in the win. Hence the 30% off at Kohls this week. I scratched. 30% was the highest discount you could get and we got it! So, after cleaning the kitchen, bathing all three boys, enjoying their nap time (they all napped at the same time today-a truly momentous ocassion) exercising and making sure everyone was fed, we loaded up in the ole mini van and headed off to Kohls.
Cindy met us there and we all enjoyed a couple of hours (give or take) of walking around the store, looking at baby clothes, jewelry and men's clothes. Bobby liked to touch the long necklaces as if he were fluffing them and would say, "Wow!" He had had a 2 and 1/2 hour nap which is virtually unheard of for that boy, so he had energy TO BURN! ...energy to burn as evidenced by running through the aisles, pushing shopping carts carrying baby-brothers-in-car-seats into manequins, yelling, "HI!" to every passer-by and playing with the swinging doors behind the jewelry counter. My son is as cute as can be. Even though it was getting to be a little overwhelming for me to try and keep up with, it just made me chuckle because he is so darn cute!
By the end of our little outing all boys were a bit testy. After some crackers and juice were put in his lap Bobby felt better. Sam, however did not stop crying until we were about 2 blocks from home and then he fell asleep. Teddy was asleep when we arrived home and if he had been awake during the last 1/2 of the car trip I never would have known. So, I promptly unloaded all boys and purchases into the house hoping to sneak a few to-dos in before the babies awoke. No such luck. Molly, who is newly released from the crate after breaking her pelvis in 3 places earlier this summer, was estatic to see us and had many licks, coos and "woofs" to assure the babes would not continue in their sleep.
Now, I need to interject something here. You probably thought, "Awww, poor dog," when you read that Molly had broken her pelvis. Let me tell you, she has a mind of her own and no amount of human training, reasoning, pleading, beaconing or the like will sway her from her own will. Couple that with some jaunting squirrels just outside the van window on the sidewalk and, boom, you've got a 13 pound bundle flying out the window of a moving vehicle. She handled her injury and subsequent surgery and isolation very well but now I'm sure you can imagine her excitement as she is free from the crate and able to interact with us all again. With her strength gaining her energy level seems to be increasing as well.
Okay, so, we return from Kohls with two hungry babies, a hungry toddler and return to a pent-up energetic doggy. I took the twins into the bedroom to feed them while Bobby and Molly played together. They both like to play chase. The funny thing is that Molly likes to be chased and so does Bobby. But Molly has it worked out so that Bobby is chasing her but THINKS she is chasing him, so everybody's happy. It's quite comical to watch. During this game of chase Bobby periodically stopped in the bedroom to say, "Up, up." This translated means he wanted to get up on the bed with me and his brothers. I explained that the brothers were eating and he would be able to get up in a little bit before bedtime. Well, the stop in the bedroom was just for a breather because he barely waited for an answer before he was off again. In between his stops in the bedroom I could hear a bag rustling in the living room. I imagined it was the Kohl's bag and immediately wondered what Bobby was after in there. (Socks aren't the most fun to play with). Once the babies were done eating I turned my attention to the little boy who then needed to be fed. When I entered the living room I could not believe what I was seeing.
"HEY!!!" I yelled as sternly as I could muster as I watched my son and my dog ripping the Kohls bag to shreds as though they were ripping open a present on Christmas morning. (That is exactly how they open gifts. Molly helps and they rip the paper to bits.) And so it was with the Kohls bag-to SHREDS. I was frustrated and would have been more upset but I could just imagine my husband Pete coming up on this scene and how it would make him laugh. So, I just kept that image in mind and calmly told Bobby to help mom clean up the mess he had made. Ever so obediently, and is if nothing at all had happened, Bobby helped me clean up the mess. Bits of bag, receipts, socks wrappers and tags were gathered and thrown, away.
Despite the occasional and inadvertant destruction it is great fun to watch Bobby and Molly interact. And so it is with the picture of a boy and his dog amid shreds of plastic bags that I close my eyes to sleep tonight. What have you experienced that could have made you mad but caused you to laugh instead?
Pete says I have the magic touch with scratch offs. He doesn't win when he does it, but apparently there's something about the way I "scratch" that just results in the win. Hence the 30% off at Kohls this week. I scratched. 30% was the highest discount you could get and we got it! So, after cleaning the kitchen, bathing all three boys, enjoying their nap time (they all napped at the same time today-a truly momentous ocassion) exercising and making sure everyone was fed, we loaded up in the ole mini van and headed off to Kohls.
Cindy met us there and we all enjoyed a couple of hours (give or take) of walking around the store, looking at baby clothes, jewelry and men's clothes. Bobby liked to touch the long necklaces as if he were fluffing them and would say, "Wow!" He had had a 2 and 1/2 hour nap which is virtually unheard of for that boy, so he had energy TO BURN! ...energy to burn as evidenced by running through the aisles, pushing shopping carts carrying baby-brothers-in-car-seats into manequins, yelling, "HI!" to every passer-by and playing with the swinging doors behind the jewelry counter. My son is as cute as can be. Even though it was getting to be a little overwhelming for me to try and keep up with, it just made me chuckle because he is so darn cute!
By the end of our little outing all boys were a bit testy. After some crackers and juice were put in his lap Bobby felt better. Sam, however did not stop crying until we were about 2 blocks from home and then he fell asleep. Teddy was asleep when we arrived home and if he had been awake during the last 1/2 of the car trip I never would have known. So, I promptly unloaded all boys and purchases into the house hoping to sneak a few to-dos in before the babies awoke. No such luck. Molly, who is newly released from the crate after breaking her pelvis in 3 places earlier this summer, was estatic to see us and had many licks, coos and "woofs" to assure the babes would not continue in their sleep.
Now, I need to interject something here. You probably thought, "Awww, poor dog," when you read that Molly had broken her pelvis. Let me tell you, she has a mind of her own and no amount of human training, reasoning, pleading, beaconing or the like will sway her from her own will. Couple that with some jaunting squirrels just outside the van window on the sidewalk and, boom, you've got a 13 pound bundle flying out the window of a moving vehicle. She handled her injury and subsequent surgery and isolation very well but now I'm sure you can imagine her excitement as she is free from the crate and able to interact with us all again. With her strength gaining her energy level seems to be increasing as well.
Okay, so, we return from Kohls with two hungry babies, a hungry toddler and return to a pent-up energetic doggy. I took the twins into the bedroom to feed them while Bobby and Molly played together. They both like to play chase. The funny thing is that Molly likes to be chased and so does Bobby. But Molly has it worked out so that Bobby is chasing her but THINKS she is chasing him, so everybody's happy. It's quite comical to watch. During this game of chase Bobby periodically stopped in the bedroom to say, "Up, up." This translated means he wanted to get up on the bed with me and his brothers. I explained that the brothers were eating and he would be able to get up in a little bit before bedtime. Well, the stop in the bedroom was just for a breather because he barely waited for an answer before he was off again. In between his stops in the bedroom I could hear a bag rustling in the living room. I imagined it was the Kohl's bag and immediately wondered what Bobby was after in there. (Socks aren't the most fun to play with). Once the babies were done eating I turned my attention to the little boy who then needed to be fed. When I entered the living room I could not believe what I was seeing.
"HEY!!!" I yelled as sternly as I could muster as I watched my son and my dog ripping the Kohls bag to shreds as though they were ripping open a present on Christmas morning. (That is exactly how they open gifts. Molly helps and they rip the paper to bits.) And so it was with the Kohls bag-to SHREDS. I was frustrated and would have been more upset but I could just imagine my husband Pete coming up on this scene and how it would make him laugh. So, I just kept that image in mind and calmly told Bobby to help mom clean up the mess he had made. Ever so obediently, and is if nothing at all had happened, Bobby helped me clean up the mess. Bits of bag, receipts, socks wrappers and tags were gathered and thrown, away.
Despite the occasional and inadvertant destruction it is great fun to watch Bobby and Molly interact. And so it is with the picture of a boy and his dog amid shreds of plastic bags that I close my eyes to sleep tonight. What have you experienced that could have made you mad but caused you to laugh instead?
Monday, September 12, 2011
Suffering Produces...Hope
I'm sure many of us did a lot of reflecting today. We all have stories of where we were when we heard about the airplanes flying into the twin towers. We remember the confusion that followed and soon after, the horror as the towers fell and stories from what has come to be known as "ground zero" started flooding our television, radio stations and email inboxes.
As I thought about that morning ten years ago, a beautiful sunny and crisp morning in Michigan, I recalled listening to the local family/Christian music station. I was in my second year of graduate school at Michigan State for Clinical Social Work and was on my way to class. The morning show duo shared the first bit of news. It was all confusing at first and thought to maybe be some kind of accident.
My class commenced as usual but about 10-15 minutes into the class cell phones started ringing. One of my classmates took the call in the hallway and came back into the room with a look of shock on her face. She walked straight into the middle of class, holding up her phone she said, "Something's happening. We're being attacked. They've flown two planes into the World Trade Center."
Others started taking their calls or listening to messages and the professor promptly cancelled the class and recommended we all go home.
The minutes, hours, days that followed are fuzzy. I believe not only I, but humanity, was experiencing the effects of shock and horror. First the disbelief and numbness in attempt to grasp what we've just been told, then the sense of deep sadness as the gravity of reality sets in. After that, anxiety and fear can take hold as normal, everyday activites don't seem so "normal" anymore.
Today we reflect on a national (and really it goes beyond nationality) tragedy and the events of that day ten years ago. But on a personal level we all have other dates and events and tragedies; stories of "where we were when...". I myself remember where I was when at just 9 years old I was told that my grandma had "gone to heaven". This was the first death of a loved one I had ever experienced close up. I know where I was when at 17 years of age I was told that I had cancer. On September 11, 2001 I had no idea that in almost exactly two months I would be diagnosed with another disease, diabetes. I remembered that today too. All life-altering events. But not all of that "life-altering" was negative. I've learned so much about coping, caring for others, sharing burdens, how to see the good in a bad situation. I believe through all that I've lived in this life I have become stronger and more compassionate.
As you continue to reflect on the tragedy of September 11th and your own personal trials, consider how you may have been changed for the better through your suffering.
"...we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope."
As I thought about that morning ten years ago, a beautiful sunny and crisp morning in Michigan, I recalled listening to the local family/Christian music station. I was in my second year of graduate school at Michigan State for Clinical Social Work and was on my way to class. The morning show duo shared the first bit of news. It was all confusing at first and thought to maybe be some kind of accident.
My class commenced as usual but about 10-15 minutes into the class cell phones started ringing. One of my classmates took the call in the hallway and came back into the room with a look of shock on her face. She walked straight into the middle of class, holding up her phone she said, "Something's happening. We're being attacked. They've flown two planes into the World Trade Center."
Others started taking their calls or listening to messages and the professor promptly cancelled the class and recommended we all go home.
The minutes, hours, days that followed are fuzzy. I believe not only I, but humanity, was experiencing the effects of shock and horror. First the disbelief and numbness in attempt to grasp what we've just been told, then the sense of deep sadness as the gravity of reality sets in. After that, anxiety and fear can take hold as normal, everyday activites don't seem so "normal" anymore.
Today we reflect on a national (and really it goes beyond nationality) tragedy and the events of that day ten years ago. But on a personal level we all have other dates and events and tragedies; stories of "where we were when...". I myself remember where I was when at just 9 years old I was told that my grandma had "gone to heaven". This was the first death of a loved one I had ever experienced close up. I know where I was when at 17 years of age I was told that I had cancer. On September 11, 2001 I had no idea that in almost exactly two months I would be diagnosed with another disease, diabetes. I remembered that today too. All life-altering events. But not all of that "life-altering" was negative. I've learned so much about coping, caring for others, sharing burdens, how to see the good in a bad situation. I believe through all that I've lived in this life I have become stronger and more compassionate.
As you continue to reflect on the tragedy of September 11th and your own personal trials, consider how you may have been changed for the better through your suffering.
"...we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope."
Romans 5:3-4 (NIV)
Friday, September 9, 2011
If it Doesn't Smell Like Spit-up, it's Clean
It was another one of those days. The kind of day where you have not a minute to yourself. It started out with poor Bobby waking up on the wrong side of the crib. After holding him for about 45 minutes, sobbing, coaxing a pediasure down him, he went back to bed for more (much needed) sleep. Unfortunately, he didn't wake from the nap in a much better mood.
Sam is doing this thing where he avoids sleeping during the daytime and just cries about being tired instead. So, there was that. And God be praised, Ted, my steady Teddy, he was smiling and laughing all day long. Ted helped relieve some of the pressure and demands that his brothers were imposing on me.
I had all three little lads in the basement with me for workout time. This is where "the other side" of Bobby emerged today. After deeming Bobby nothing short of patience itself just two days ago I was forced to deal with patience's rival. While he tried to do a yoga pose or two with mom he mostly pried toys out of the babies hands (his "old" toys), chased the dog around the very small exercise space, climbed the stairs and tugged on mom. It's very hard to hold the palm tree pose when you have a two year old pulling on your pants. (Or pushing your butt during sun salutation.)
There was never one moment that was overwhelming, it was just a little "pick" here and a little "pick" there that added up to pick, pick, pick, pick, pick and by 5:30 p.m. when Pete called to say he was on his way home, I had had it! I thought as soon as Pete got home I'd run out the door. I could visualize myself somewhere, standing all alone. It didn't matter where I was in this vision, what did matter is that I was all alone.
I'll tell you what though, I caved in today. For the sake of remaining a calm and loving parent, I caved in today. We have been weaning Bobby from his pacifier so he is allowed to have it at nap times, night time and out in public only in case of emergency. Well, this afternoon, as if to try and cork the steady flow of, "MOM! MORE! BOB!" and the ever-so-frequent crying fit, I popped the ole' pacifier right in his mouth. He welcomed it with a, "Mmmmm." As if to say, "Ahhh, all better." I had no idea until that moment what weaning him off of that thing has been like for him. It seems as though it's akin to the chocoholic who is trying to "cut back" or the caffeine addict who gives up coffee for Lent. And so it is with my child and the pacifier. Cranky, moody, temperamental but give him that pluggie (chocolate/caffeine) and he's right as rain.
Even with the pluggie intervention there were still enough meltdowns to warrant a mommy escape after daddy got home. The escape was in the form of a quick ride to a neighborhood restaurant with a girlfriend of mine. We were going to have a drink and then I was going to bring dinner home for Pete and I.
I WAS STILL IN MY PAJAMAS at 6 p.m. when Pete walked in the door. I quickly blotted on some makeup, brushed my hair (for the first time today) and put on some clothes. My friend decided she would drive so I could rest and have a drink at the restaurant. As I sat waiting for her to climb into the drivers side I noticed I had something on my jeans. I checked out the shirt I had put on and noticed a spot there as well. Quickly, I sniffed it. Nothing. I tried to scratch it off. Nothing. Cindy looked at me quizically. "If it doesn't smell like spit-up, then it's clean, " I said. (Told you I was going to be real here!)
It is amazing and miraculous how one short hour without anyone hanging on you, or calling your name can be so rejuvinating. The bitter sweet beer. The appetizers. The din of the Friday-night-dining crowd. Casual conversation with a friend. It all served my body and soul as a few minutes in a hot tub, time alone in a bookstore, time in worship, or even a chair massage might have done. All I can say is that by the time I returned home I was ready to hear my name again, to hold those sweet babies, to deal with the crying.
I held each one of my boys in my arms before they went to bed tonight. Feeding Teddy, rocking Sam, watching Bobby play "angry birds" as he sucked away on his comforting pacifier. I breathed deeply and smelled their hair, touched their little hands and feet, looked down into their faces, relishing every single second with them. It was another one of those days. The kind of day where you don't have a minute to yourself but you go to bed thanking God for the miracle of your children, the love of your husband, for every provision and for the chance to live this life.
Sam is doing this thing where he avoids sleeping during the daytime and just cries about being tired instead. So, there was that. And God be praised, Ted, my steady Teddy, he was smiling and laughing all day long. Ted helped relieve some of the pressure and demands that his brothers were imposing on me.
I had all three little lads in the basement with me for workout time. This is where "the other side" of Bobby emerged today. After deeming Bobby nothing short of patience itself just two days ago I was forced to deal with patience's rival. While he tried to do a yoga pose or two with mom he mostly pried toys out of the babies hands (his "old" toys), chased the dog around the very small exercise space, climbed the stairs and tugged on mom. It's very hard to hold the palm tree pose when you have a two year old pulling on your pants. (Or pushing your butt during sun salutation.)
There was never one moment that was overwhelming, it was just a little "pick" here and a little "pick" there that added up to pick, pick, pick, pick, pick and by 5:30 p.m. when Pete called to say he was on his way home, I had had it! I thought as soon as Pete got home I'd run out the door. I could visualize myself somewhere, standing all alone. It didn't matter where I was in this vision, what did matter is that I was all alone.
I'll tell you what though, I caved in today. For the sake of remaining a calm and loving parent, I caved in today. We have been weaning Bobby from his pacifier so he is allowed to have it at nap times, night time and out in public only in case of emergency. Well, this afternoon, as if to try and cork the steady flow of, "MOM! MORE! BOB!" and the ever-so-frequent crying fit, I popped the ole' pacifier right in his mouth. He welcomed it with a, "Mmmmm." As if to say, "Ahhh, all better." I had no idea until that moment what weaning him off of that thing has been like for him. It seems as though it's akin to the chocoholic who is trying to "cut back" or the caffeine addict who gives up coffee for Lent. And so it is with my child and the pacifier. Cranky, moody, temperamental but give him that pluggie (chocolate/caffeine) and he's right as rain.
Even with the pluggie intervention there were still enough meltdowns to warrant a mommy escape after daddy got home. The escape was in the form of a quick ride to a neighborhood restaurant with a girlfriend of mine. We were going to have a drink and then I was going to bring dinner home for Pete and I.
I WAS STILL IN MY PAJAMAS at 6 p.m. when Pete walked in the door. I quickly blotted on some makeup, brushed my hair (for the first time today) and put on some clothes. My friend decided she would drive so I could rest and have a drink at the restaurant. As I sat waiting for her to climb into the drivers side I noticed I had something on my jeans. I checked out the shirt I had put on and noticed a spot there as well. Quickly, I sniffed it. Nothing. I tried to scratch it off. Nothing. Cindy looked at me quizically. "If it doesn't smell like spit-up, then it's clean, " I said. (Told you I was going to be real here!)
It is amazing and miraculous how one short hour without anyone hanging on you, or calling your name can be so rejuvinating. The bitter sweet beer. The appetizers. The din of the Friday-night-dining crowd. Casual conversation with a friend. It all served my body and soul as a few minutes in a hot tub, time alone in a bookstore, time in worship, or even a chair massage might have done. All I can say is that by the time I returned home I was ready to hear my name again, to hold those sweet babies, to deal with the crying.
I held each one of my boys in my arms before they went to bed tonight. Feeding Teddy, rocking Sam, watching Bobby play "angry birds" as he sucked away on his comforting pacifier. I breathed deeply and smelled their hair, touched their little hands and feet, looked down into their faces, relishing every single second with them. It was another one of those days. The kind of day where you don't have a minute to yourself but you go to bed thanking God for the miracle of your children, the love of your husband, for every provision and for the chance to live this life.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Patience, my boy.
I had a revelation today. Is that the same as "learning a lesson"? Because I definitely learned something from my 23-month old. I don't believe I even realized it at the time, but it dawned on me as I sat down to write tonight. So, here's the story:
I worked out today (day two-woot woot!) and since the Wii is in the basement I had to bring Bobby down with me. The twins were fast asleep upstairs and I had the baby monitor on. Bobby has a toy box in the basement and some special, larger toys that there is no room for in our living room. He had just woken from his nap and was happy to come downstairs to visit these special toys. But for most of the time (35 minutes) he sat on the couch and watched the virtual trainer and myself as we worked at toning abs, strengthening hips and thighs, burning calories. As I think back on it's impressive how calm and patient he was.
Fast forward 5 1/2 hours to this evening. The baby boys were both fussy and needing a bottle, holding and sleep. It is a trip, let me tell you, to feed two babies at once! It's more difficult when they both want to be held or rocked to sleep. The one in your arms is always distracted by the one on the bed crying and you're feeling guilty for leaving someone on the bed crying but trying to focus on the one in your arms...it's a vicious cycle. Thankfully it's not the majority of our life experience with these boys. But, you can imagine what a state a mom (or dad) would be in in the midst of all of this. So, that was me, this evening. With one in my arms fighting sleep, another on the bed crying. All of a sudden Bobby enters the room and yells at the top of his lungs, "BOB!!!"
Interjection: "Bob" as in Bob the Builder, yes. But, "Bob" could also mean Thomas the Train, Curious George or Veggie Tales. Since he can say "Bob" he uses that word for any and all of the shows he likes to watch. This is usually followed by a guessing game which also involves me asking if he means "Thomas?" or "George?" or "Veggie Tales?" I have to admit it can be frustrating.
Okay, so in comes Bobby and yells, "Bob!" which causes the little one in my arms to jump and the one on the bed to turn it up a notch (now he's startled AND hungry).
"Bobby!" I say as sternly as possible so he understands how important it is, "Please be quiet, your brothers are trying to sleep!"
With all the racket he probably thought, "Yeah, right, mom. Doesn't sound like it to me." Whatever his thought process, he persisted in his quest to have the television turned on to one of his favorite shows. He continued, "Bob. PEEEEEEAS." Adding the "please" with the hope this will help get him what he wants.
In the meantime, I've fed one baby and have him calmed and am now feeding the second. I try to reason with the 23-month old by telling him I shut the television off because he left the room. He had been watching Thomas the Train and had not finished the episode. This of course was NOT the intended response from me. Bobby clearly wanted action as he ran in and out of the room saying, "Bob. Bob. Peeeeeeeas. More. Bob." Irritated I turned the episode back on, helped Bobby on the bed with my free hand and finished calming the baby in my arms and put him in his bed.
When all was quiet I had a chance to process. What Bobby needed at that moment was the same thing the babies needed. My attention. He wasn't trying to be demanding. He too was fighting sleep and wanted to be held by his mom. During the course of the day Bobby has to sacrifice time and attention due to the needs of his baby brothers, and he is so gracious about it. And of course there are the times he's told "no" or "wait" because I'm doing something I need to do as well. I remembered how, just this morning, he had sat so patiently as I exercised. He played by himself so well and allowed me to do what I needed to do for myself. (Side note: it was so cute, I asked him if he was going to exercise with me and he said, "yeah" and promptly grabbed up his blanket and sat on the couch to watch.)
I can learn grace and patience from that little boy who is so gracious and patient with me as I tend to the needs of not one, but two baby brothers; the boy who helps with his brothers of his own accord and who picks up his toys without being asked. I hope to keep this perspective in my heart and mind the next time I find myself in the midst of what Pete and I like to call "the perfect storm". It would be easy to be frustrated, but instead I want to respond like Bobby would.
What important lessons have you learned from a child?
I worked out today (day two-woot woot!) and since the Wii is in the basement I had to bring Bobby down with me. The twins were fast asleep upstairs and I had the baby monitor on. Bobby has a toy box in the basement and some special, larger toys that there is no room for in our living room. He had just woken from his nap and was happy to come downstairs to visit these special toys. But for most of the time (35 minutes) he sat on the couch and watched the virtual trainer and myself as we worked at toning abs, strengthening hips and thighs, burning calories. As I think back on it's impressive how calm and patient he was.
Fast forward 5 1/2 hours to this evening. The baby boys were both fussy and needing a bottle, holding and sleep. It is a trip, let me tell you, to feed two babies at once! It's more difficult when they both want to be held or rocked to sleep. The one in your arms is always distracted by the one on the bed crying and you're feeling guilty for leaving someone on the bed crying but trying to focus on the one in your arms...it's a vicious cycle. Thankfully it's not the majority of our life experience with these boys. But, you can imagine what a state a mom (or dad) would be in in the midst of all of this. So, that was me, this evening. With one in my arms fighting sleep, another on the bed crying. All of a sudden Bobby enters the room and yells at the top of his lungs, "BOB!!!"
Interjection: "Bob" as in Bob the Builder, yes. But, "Bob" could also mean Thomas the Train, Curious George or Veggie Tales. Since he can say "Bob" he uses that word for any and all of the shows he likes to watch. This is usually followed by a guessing game which also involves me asking if he means "Thomas?" or "George?" or "Veggie Tales?" I have to admit it can be frustrating.
Okay, so in comes Bobby and yells, "Bob!" which causes the little one in my arms to jump and the one on the bed to turn it up a notch (now he's startled AND hungry).
"Bobby!" I say as sternly as possible so he understands how important it is, "Please be quiet, your brothers are trying to sleep!"
With all the racket he probably thought, "Yeah, right, mom. Doesn't sound like it to me." Whatever his thought process, he persisted in his quest to have the television turned on to one of his favorite shows. He continued, "Bob. PEEEEEEAS." Adding the "please" with the hope this will help get him what he wants.
In the meantime, I've fed one baby and have him calmed and am now feeding the second. I try to reason with the 23-month old by telling him I shut the television off because he left the room. He had been watching Thomas the Train and had not finished the episode. This of course was NOT the intended response from me. Bobby clearly wanted action as he ran in and out of the room saying, "Bob. Bob. Peeeeeeeas. More. Bob." Irritated I turned the episode back on, helped Bobby on the bed with my free hand and finished calming the baby in my arms and put him in his bed.
When all was quiet I had a chance to process. What Bobby needed at that moment was the same thing the babies needed. My attention. He wasn't trying to be demanding. He too was fighting sleep and wanted to be held by his mom. During the course of the day Bobby has to sacrifice time and attention due to the needs of his baby brothers, and he is so gracious about it. And of course there are the times he's told "no" or "wait" because I'm doing something I need to do as well. I remembered how, just this morning, he had sat so patiently as I exercised. He played by himself so well and allowed me to do what I needed to do for myself. (Side note: it was so cute, I asked him if he was going to exercise with me and he said, "yeah" and promptly grabbed up his blanket and sat on the couch to watch.)
I can learn grace and patience from that little boy who is so gracious and patient with me as I tend to the needs of not one, but two baby brothers; the boy who helps with his brothers of his own accord and who picks up his toys without being asked. I hope to keep this perspective in my heart and mind the next time I find myself in the midst of what Pete and I like to call "the perfect storm". It would be easy to be frustrated, but instead I want to respond like Bobby would.
What important lessons have you learned from a child?
Monday, September 5, 2011
Wiiiiiiiii
I did it. With much pomp and circumstance I spent 25 minutes with the Wii today.
It didn't come easy, I assure you. When my 23-month old son is down for his nap and the 5-month old twins are chillin' on their own I have to quickly decide how I want to spend those precious moments! Shower? Read for a few minutes? Complete a task on my never-ending "to do" list? Use the bathroom in silence? And the list goes on. Since my recent trip to the doctor and resulting resolution to eat better and increase physical activity I have to add exercise to that list. And exercise is exactly what I did today.
Determining to do the exercise was the first big step. Finding the disc for Wii Fit was the second hurdle to overcome. We have three levels in our home. Each level is equipped with a tv. Each tv has had the Wii hooked up to it in the last year. I had to search each "station" on each floor in search of said disc. To no avail. I then enlisted Pete to help me in my quest (I could sense the free/peaceful moments slipping away, like sand through the hourglass). He too looked on each level of our home, finally to return to the basement to suggest I look in the drawer at the bottom of our entertainment center, which of course held the Wii Fit disc.
I got the Wii Fit step in place, hooked the remote control on my wrist and pushed "A" to begin. I followed the prompts on the screen only to find that the power button on the fitness step wasn't working. I pushed with my foot, pushed with my finger. Lifted it, returned it to the floor, pressed again. I picked it up, shook it. Nothing. Pete came to assist me in this and determined that perhaps the batteries were dead. I went and found 4 AA batteries to replace the old ones and put them in. No joy. Again, I asked Pete to help problem solve. He looked at my work and switched the batteries around. I had put them in backwards...+/-...whatever.
Finally, I was ready to begin! Oops, not supposed to wear shoes on the Wii Fit board/step thing...stopped, took off my shoes, ready now! And so I began. It had been 863 days since I had last signed in to work out with Wii Fit. So, okay, it's been YEARS since I've exercised at home...I said I wasn't going to sugar coat any of this. And in the spirit of full disclosure, my Wii fitness age is 47. Ouch. They don't pull any punches during training either. I was receiving prompts that said, "Your body is weak" and the rating of "Couch potato" during and at the end of each exercise. The virtual trainer would say, "Good job!" and "Keep going!" while I was in the midst of an exercise but afterward he would say things like, "Your left side is very weak" or "I noticed you took a break during that exercise. Those muscles won't work themselves out." I didn't take it personaly and put in my full 25 minutes anyway. (I'll show that virtual trainer!)
I have a lot of work to do here! The upside is that my weight is "normal". BMI could/should be reduced by 5 and I really need to work on strenghtening. All in all I felt very good about the time I spent and was able to do things that at the start I didn't think I'd be able to do. It was the completion of a task I had challenged myself to complete that was so very rewarding. I may have become overly zealous as later in the afternoon I went for a walk with a friend and all three of my boys. We were gone for over an hour. My glutes are complaining, friends.
Wii Fit works for me. What exercises have you all found that work best for you? Have any good core-building exercises you could share with me?
Hasta luego!
It didn't come easy, I assure you. When my 23-month old son is down for his nap and the 5-month old twins are chillin' on their own I have to quickly decide how I want to spend those precious moments! Shower? Read for a few minutes? Complete a task on my never-ending "to do" list? Use the bathroom in silence? And the list goes on. Since my recent trip to the doctor and resulting resolution to eat better and increase physical activity I have to add exercise to that list. And exercise is exactly what I did today.
Determining to do the exercise was the first big step. Finding the disc for Wii Fit was the second hurdle to overcome. We have three levels in our home. Each level is equipped with a tv. Each tv has had the Wii hooked up to it in the last year. I had to search each "station" on each floor in search of said disc. To no avail. I then enlisted Pete to help me in my quest (I could sense the free/peaceful moments slipping away, like sand through the hourglass). He too looked on each level of our home, finally to return to the basement to suggest I look in the drawer at the bottom of our entertainment center, which of course held the Wii Fit disc.
I got the Wii Fit step in place, hooked the remote control on my wrist and pushed "A" to begin. I followed the prompts on the screen only to find that the power button on the fitness step wasn't working. I pushed with my foot, pushed with my finger. Lifted it, returned it to the floor, pressed again. I picked it up, shook it. Nothing. Pete came to assist me in this and determined that perhaps the batteries were dead. I went and found 4 AA batteries to replace the old ones and put them in. No joy. Again, I asked Pete to help problem solve. He looked at my work and switched the batteries around. I had put them in backwards...+/-...whatever.
Finally, I was ready to begin! Oops, not supposed to wear shoes on the Wii Fit board/step thing...stopped, took off my shoes, ready now! And so I began. It had been 863 days since I had last signed in to work out with Wii Fit. So, okay, it's been YEARS since I've exercised at home...I said I wasn't going to sugar coat any of this. And in the spirit of full disclosure, my Wii fitness age is 47. Ouch. They don't pull any punches during training either. I was receiving prompts that said, "Your body is weak" and the rating of "Couch potato" during and at the end of each exercise. The virtual trainer would say, "Good job!" and "Keep going!" while I was in the midst of an exercise but afterward he would say things like, "Your left side is very weak" or "I noticed you took a break during that exercise. Those muscles won't work themselves out." I didn't take it personaly and put in my full 25 minutes anyway. (I'll show that virtual trainer!)
I have a lot of work to do here! The upside is that my weight is "normal". BMI could/should be reduced by 5 and I really need to work on strenghtening. All in all I felt very good about the time I spent and was able to do things that at the start I didn't think I'd be able to do. It was the completion of a task I had challenged myself to complete that was so very rewarding. I may have become overly zealous as later in the afternoon I went for a walk with a friend and all three of my boys. We were gone for over an hour. My glutes are complaining, friends.
Wii Fit works for me. What exercises have you all found that work best for you? Have any good core-building exercises you could share with me?
Hasta luego!
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Moment by Moment
Isn't it amazing how a day can start one way and end totally the opposite?
Sunday mornings are difficult for my family. With two infants and one soon-to-be two-year-old it's difficult to get our act together and be places on time. This day was no exception. We were able to make it to church on time. Bobby was having another rough morning (he is typically ready to go down for a nap right around the time our service is in full swing). His new thing is to yell, "Mom." Through the house, first thing in the morning when he's ready to get up, in the store, and yes-in church. And typically the twins are sleeping through the service, but not today. Bobby yelling, "Mom" as I played my guitar with the praise band, the twins crying intermittently...this was our church experience today.
With three children under the age of two you can just imagine how quickly we go through a box of diapers. Diapers. Wipes. Formula. Necessity dictated that on our way back from church we stop at Target to pick up these items. Cue the mini-meltdown. Poor Bobby was just so tired at this point he could not hold it together in the store. We got what we needed and got out of there. The car ride home was unpleasant at best and Pete and I were on edge.
Needless to say, it was a train wreck of a morning.
But even in the midst of that "wreck" I found myself subconsciously or automatically remaining in the moment. I didn't allow the crying fits or the tension to cause me to retreat within myself, wishing away each minute of discomfort. I hung with it all. And I noticed that as the day progressed I was able to breathe easier, remain calm in the midst of struggles with an exhausted son (who rested in bed but never did sleep), to read a book for a few minutes, to sit on my porch with my boys and enjoy the breeze...
I didn't get done all I wanted to today. Things didn't start out as hoped or planned. In spite of it all, patience proved to be invaluable in reclaiming the day as I encountered moment by precious moment.
Sunday mornings are difficult for my family. With two infants and one soon-to-be two-year-old it's difficult to get our act together and be places on time. This day was no exception. We were able to make it to church on time. Bobby was having another rough morning (he is typically ready to go down for a nap right around the time our service is in full swing). His new thing is to yell, "Mom." Through the house, first thing in the morning when he's ready to get up, in the store, and yes-in church. And typically the twins are sleeping through the service, but not today. Bobby yelling, "Mom" as I played my guitar with the praise band, the twins crying intermittently...this was our church experience today.
With three children under the age of two you can just imagine how quickly we go through a box of diapers. Diapers. Wipes. Formula. Necessity dictated that on our way back from church we stop at Target to pick up these items. Cue the mini-meltdown. Poor Bobby was just so tired at this point he could not hold it together in the store. We got what we needed and got out of there. The car ride home was unpleasant at best and Pete and I were on edge.
Needless to say, it was a train wreck of a morning.
But even in the midst of that "wreck" I found myself subconsciously or automatically remaining in the moment. I didn't allow the crying fits or the tension to cause me to retreat within myself, wishing away each minute of discomfort. I hung with it all. And I noticed that as the day progressed I was able to breathe easier, remain calm in the midst of struggles with an exhausted son (who rested in bed but never did sleep), to read a book for a few minutes, to sit on my porch with my boys and enjoy the breeze...
I didn't get done all I wanted to today. Things didn't start out as hoped or planned. In spite of it all, patience proved to be invaluable in reclaiming the day as I encountered moment by precious moment.
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