The Afternoon Snack

Another tiny snippet into twin-dom.  Somewhere in the haze of lost summer sleep, I made the decision to give the babies only homemade baby food.  I find myself determined to keep providing for the two little ones I worked so hard while pregnant, to give them the best fighting chance possible for preemies.  My hard work had paid off with only a 4 week NICU stay, instead of the six plus weeks the doctors felt they would need.  My hard work also paid off when Laith surpassed Vivienne in weight and is now a monstrous 22 pounds.  My hard work paid again when Vivienne finally got over her severe bouts of acid reflux.  So why not continue hard work?  Besides, there's no rest for the wicked.  In all honesty, homemade baby food isn't all that hard to make.  It's the time consumption that can become an issue, but if I plan ahead, and stock up on fruits and vegs at the grocery store, and spend an evening steaming it away, then freezing, I can prep up 2-3 weeks of food.


Vivienne and Laith love to eat food from a spoon.  Whenever a bowl is in my lap, they immediately assume it contains food for them.  I love watching their eyes twinkle as they keep thinking my yummy goodness will be making it to their open and hungry mouths. A few times lately, I've given them the teeniest morsel.  Oftentimes, they swish it around their mouth and then spit it out, not fully comprehending that the next step is swallow.  Currently, we eat breakfast and dinner and have a mid-day snack.  Both babies usually wake up between 7-8 am, and both immediately like to be in their individual jumper to properly finish the wake routine.  About 8:30-9, Laith starts getting impatient, yelling out his version of "Feed Me! Feed Me! Feed Me!"  With his impatience for everything in life (this trait has been evident since the first pre-term labor scare), he is picked up first, carried to the high chair, and buckled in.  Vivienne then starts to cry out some, as in no way does she want to be left out of this ritual.  I head back over to her jumper, by way of their room to pick up a couple bibs, then hoist her on over to her high chair.  This past week, I've not attached the tray and high chair time has been extended beyond just feeding time.  The twins then watch as I head to the kitchen and launch into a long discussion of what-shall-we-have-today.  Their little faces keep peering over their high chairs in earnest, excited for what will be coming.  Breakfast is usually bananas and oatmeal.  Dinner is usually a vegetable and rice.  But mid-day snack is the best...it has to be, it's a snack.  At this time, they get apples and peaches.  The crowd goes wild for this particular bowl of wholesome goodness.  The spoon flies back and forth between each baby.  There's no time for worrying about germaphobes.  What's good enough for one is good enough for the other.  Besides, just yesterday afternoon, I found they had switched their bottles and neither were complaining.  They share everything else, so why not that too?  I sing Gwen Stefani's "Go Bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S" when we eat breakfast, and there's Tarzan of the Apes too, but the other meals just get a bunch of yums. 

As in everything else she does, Vivienne is quite elegant when she eats.  She tends to sit very still, opens her mouth just enough for spoon and food to fit, and then thoughtfully mooshes it around in her mouth.  Every once in a while, when it's something she really loves, she'll give out a big "Mmmmm!", and once in a blue moon, I swear it sounds like "Yum!"  Since that's the word I use during every feeding, I'm guessing she may actually be able to mimic it.

Laith is voracious.  There is no question if he has a healthy appetite or not; he most definitely does...and maybe a little too healthy.  Lately, he's taken to "mmm-mmming" while he eats, and opens his mouth large and wide, and if food doesn't make it to the bottomless pit fast enough, he starts to cry huge crocodile tears, as though he's a starving child who can't believe he missed another meal.  If this crying continues for too long, it becomes a full on tantrum.  I was surprised by his first tantrum.  Really? At six months you know how to do that?  He'd cry, scream and kick, and when I picked him up to calm him down, there was no calming.  He can stop instantaneously.  He is cheeky that one.

On a side note, I have Christmas finally complete.  The tree is up, all gifts are wrapped, treats are made and delivered, and annual cards in the mail.  Then I get the text about great-grandma's Christmas Eve party gift exchange.  *sigh*  Now I'll need to venture out into the frenzy of Christmas shoppers again.  Joy.

To the Boy Who Lived

When I started re-reading Harry, it was just to have a small window of solitude after a long day of being mommy to our twins, being executive assistant at work, the wears-every-hat gal in general.  I relished each night when the twins would go to bed and I could finally read the coveted one chapter I'd set limit to.  I was infatuated with Harry and his magical world.  Mysteries are my mainstay with books, so thoroughly enjoying a fantasy was especially rare for me.  I came into Harry late in his life; I didn't discover him until year four, the Goblet of Fire, was just about to be released.  I only learned of Harry because I worked at the library, and couldn't help but wonder why his books were on waiting lists that lasted weeks.  I dived into the books, but my infatuation stopped there.  Harry's world was vivid in my imagination and the movies ruined my carefully detailed storyboard.  I stopped watching them after the Prisoner of Azkaban.

I've only read the Deathly Hallows once, at its first printing.  I remembered feeling as though Harry's nomadic wanderings would never end, and didn't originally enjoy how the loose ends were tied up.  This time, intent on taking my time, I read the books more carefully.  Yet by Order of the Phoenix, I was immersed and had the hardest time putting Harry down.  I spent any possible moment trying to squeeze in a few pages to finish the story, as Deathly Hallows was much better the second time around.  Last night I finished the seventh and final year, and although triumphant in how Harry's story ended this time, I was saddened that my nightly ritual was up.  I know I will still spend that time reading, but I will miss Harry.  He quiesced my restless relentless pace during a time when calamity abounded.

The Babies Mantra

Finding time.  More like planning way in advance is the key.  I remember one year, working on my annual Christmas Card in early November.  My sisters and I had gotten together for a 'sister day' and someone had the great idea we could all work on our cards together.  At the time, I kept thinking why would you work on them this early?  I always reserve my card-merry-making for Thanksgiving weekend.  The wife of a retail worker for the past 10 years has taught me to find activities to keep myself busy during holidays.  I spent so many years all by myself, waiting for his shift to be over, that I'd become a pro at it.  So with the cards finished early in the month, I found myself bored at Thanksgiving.  Now with babies...ahhh, babies...I realize getting started early means by Thanksgiving I should be done.  Instead, I found myself not liking my original idea, scrapping it and then coming up with a new design, to later realize how I could fix the first and make it likable; that card will come next year.  I finished the cards last weekend, on December 1st, and now they're laying on the couch, all addressed in envelopes, just waiting to be stamped and mailed.  I wonder how many more days I'll let pass by before I finally get myself to the post office for stamps.  Probably many more, as going anywhere is a huge pain in the patootie.  First I have to dress the babies, which includes selecting clothes that are clean and go together, meaning I didn't accidentally mix in a pink onesie for Laith's outfit, or get football socks for Vivienne.  Then it's take someone's pants back off, as they've had a diaper ied that no way will I let leak out into a car seat or become the Great Diaper Rash of 2012.  Next, it's off to make bottles in prep for someone who might get hungry, like the 22-lb pigrana camped out at our house.  Then it's to dry tears and convince babies they really do want to leave the house for 'vroom-vroom'.  Last, I slip on sweaters, strap on car seat belts, dangle happy jingling toys, and use my most happy sing-songy (yet exhausted) voice to say "Here we go!"  Then I get to strain my lower back lifting the stroller over the door step, trying not to let the 40 lbs of babies bounce it off the stoop.  Next, I park the stroller beside the car, and lift Vivienne into the middle, and heave-ho Laith to the outside.  I've learned to no longer place him as middle man, as it's near impossible to lift his gargantuan bum from the middle section without herniating a spinal disc.  Last (didn't I say this once already?) I heft the stroller into the trunk, run around to the driver's seat, clamber in to babies' shouts of disapproval and yet again say "Here we go, vroom-vroom!" and the G8 roars to life.  Vivienne has the world's most sensitive bum motion sensor and can predict any time brakes might be applied and wails out in protest.  Laith miraculously sleeps through any vroom-vroom excursion.  Destination Wal-Mart is a jungle to navigate while pushing a stroller and pulling a shopping cart.  I get many crusties, as though they think I don't know the carrier can detach from the stroller, then they exclaim "OH! You do have your hands full!"  I just smile.  Once checkout is complete, and my eyeballs have shrunk back to normal size after realizing just how much my debit swipe was, we're out to the car, hoisting babies into said car, putting stroller back in the trunk and carefully packing our purchases to all fit, as I'm not getting babies back out to go to returns nor will I make a trip out again any sooner than I need to.  Vivienne has had enough at this point and motion sensor or not, her cries only diminish once exhaustion takes hold and she conks out.  Once home, I set many grocery bags on the driveway, praying it will not rain for a few minutes, so I can extract the stroller and get the babies inside to the house safely, then go back out for my unprotected purchases.  No one's going to cry if formula gets stolen...well, I guess that's not entirely true.  Babies would definitely be upset, and somehow, I would too, as it would mean a trip sooner than I'd planned.

So all this hullabaloo of traveling means it took until earlier this week to buy our Christmas tree, which is normally purchased on Black Friday.  It also means, said tree has been drying out in the garage until 2 days ago, when somewhere we found energy to get it set up, just for the boughs to drop.  Now it may be a day or two more before I get around to decorating it.  It's a glorious tree.  Great girth, substantially tall, and the perfect Christmas tree shape.  The poor thing is being ignored.  I keep commenting to the babies about our lovely tree, and its piney smell, and they look at me with nodding approval.  I also mention we should decorate it, and soon.  There's only 18 more days to Christmas...wait, only 18?!  A traveling day tomorrow has become a must.  My Christmas to-do list has just become priority number one; so much for relaxing after a long week of work.

Thank goodness I have babies who will smile, giggle and scream whenever the occasion warrants it.  And not care that Christmas traditions are all mixed up right now.  Santa, where in the heck are you?  This momma bear needs a Christmas miracle.

The concept of Sharing.  Whenever I get the sad face, the one that is the beginnings of a whine, bottom lip a-quivering, and eyes filling with fake crocodile tears, my first reaction is "Oi! You chose to come together, so you're gonna have to figure out how to make together work.  If you wanted the toy to yourself, you shouldn't have convinced the other coming by two was a great idea."

Vivienne is by far better at bottle holding.  Is it because she's smarter?  Nah, Laith might actually be, as he knows mommy is a sucker and will hold it for him if he isn't feeling up to it.  If only Vivienne knew that tap dance routine.  Instead, she's been led to believe bottle holding is a neat big girl's trick.

More Washington

First Family Pictures

First of all I will remind you that I can't shoot pictures of people though I keep trying. My sister Elicia does a great job shooting pictures. That being said we knew it would be impossible to get everyone looking at the camera together with two babies so we just figured we'd take casual shots. Jen had the idea to take some shots at a junkyard which was a great idea except it was mid day and the light was horrible. We didn't have a choice though because a sunny day in Washington doesn't come along often and the chance of it lining up with my day off is rare. So we just made the best of it. We also found this empty building with a cool set of doors to take some shots. The kids did great and never complained....much.

Halloween I

While I was on bedrest in the hospital, Captain America came out on blu-ray, and Bryan bought it and we had a mini movie night.  I had a wheelchair ride down to the 'concessions' to buy snacks and drinks and then I got special permission to lay on the bed/couch where Bryan lived when he wasn't working.  Once the babies were born and we met tiny 3 pound Laith, we looked at each other and knew right away he was our Captain America.  Laith was under much scrutiny while in the NICU due to his low birth weight.  Vivienne was basically given a free pass on everything, but Laith had to meet many special benchmarks.  Each day there would be something the doctors were concerned about, and we'd cheer our Captain America on, telling him he would be able to do anything he set his heart on.  Every obstacle he overcame, most on his own.  He jumped every hurdle asked of him and more.  This past week for his six month well baby, Captain America weighed in at a whopping 20 lbs 0.8 oz.  We had long wanted him to become the real Captain America.  He achieved it and pulled off his Halloween costume with style.  Unfortunately, he was grumpy, as he fell asleep about thirty minutes before costume time and I was silly enough to wake him to get ready for trick-or-treating, but if you squint your eyes just right, you can imagine he's gritting his teeth (yes, he does have 2!) and getting ready to avenge good.

 

Vivienne has stolen our hearts since we started feeling her flutter around and roll like mad when Bryan would say "Hi babies!"  She was born with an air of elegance, her little hand up by her head, with pursed lips and her chin raised slightly.  She'd pose for pictures we took while she was in the NICU, bringing her little fist to her chin and almost sighing as though it was a hard day's work in a model's life.  She's brought a quiet joy to our family and is always ready with a willing smile and happy attitude.  We braved the mall crowds back around my birthday and just had to walk through the Disney store.  When we got to the back of the store to turn around, the Minnie Mouse costume caught our eyes and we knew it was meant to be.  Vivienne loves to "watch" Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  More like she loves the huge faces of Mickey and Minnie smiling at her and she lovingly smiles and coos right back at them.  She made an adorable Minnie.  Laith's first take of her was disbelief.  He stared and stared, wondering where his sister had gone.

 

I decided we should skype trick-or-treat with Grammie & Poppa and Grandma & Grandpa.  We then headed over to Bryan's store, and did some reverse trick-or-treating, passing out candy to the night crew and showing off the twins' costumes.  They were obviously the center of attention and brought many oohs and aaahhs.  Vivienne smiled like mad and Laith actually turned his frown upside-down and started to grin too.  We took our Great Pumpkin to every corner of the store, wishing Happy Halloween to all.  Our last stop was our next-door neighbors.  Robin was out helping with Halloween festivities, but Dan was home passing candy.  The twins scored big at their house, each getting a fun new toy.  (It reminded me of Big Daddy and when Adam Sandler goes trick-or-treating with Julien and forces the Halloween Grinch to hand out treats such as CDs, a stapler, cereal...just different in that Dan was the 'Grinch' whose heart had grown three times that day).  Halloween was a far cry from our traditional celebrations.  We sadly didn't carve a pumpkin, watch a semi-scary movie (I know, I'm a wimp, but for very good reason!) or go out to a special dinner.  But I wouldn't trade the old traditions for these new ones.  Halloween will never be a lonely holiday.  Instead, it will be filled with last minute shopping for costumes, gigantic candy bowls with candy that lasts forever, pillowcases hidden in bedrooms with that secret stash of sugar, and the joint decked out to the nines.  Halloween the First was a peek into many happy memories to come.