Whatever Happened to Dick and Jane?

It seems that bedtime is the perfect conversation time. Just when we are ready to settle down, the twins come up with thousands of interesting things they have to tell us. Last night's bedtime conversation began with McKallum telling us that "everyone has a skeleton...that a skeleton is made of bones and keeps us standing up....without a skeleton we would be a blob of skin on the ground."

It continued with McKenna saying, "Mommy,if you put your hands on your face you can feel your bones, except on your nose and ears....They are like a shark....They are made of cartilage!"

Skeleton ???
Cartilage ????????

When I was four I was not talking about skeletons and cartilage...I didn't even know what these things were. Whatever happened to Dick, Jane and Spot? Where did four year olds obtain such knowledge? When did being four change? What happened to trucks, Barbies and just being a kid? It's a little nerve racking to think about the future. If they know these facts at four what will they know at age twelve? At age eighteen? It should be interesting!

Behind a Good Mother

When the alarm clock rang this morning, I was overwhelmed with a sense of dread...another day, just like yesterday....again tomorrow....The shower didn't relieve it, getting dressed didn't help....I went to the computer to check the morning news and there it was...A simple note from my husband telling me what a great mother and wife I was! Although not an every day occurrence, I have received "Love notes" in the past...randomly placed around the house waiting for my eyes to find. But this one...hit the spot...it was just what I needed to start my day. It made me realize how much I need my husband...How behind most good mothers there is a terrific man.

My husband is not only a great husband, but an outstanding dad. He is patient and kind and always understands "my bad moods" and my "exhausted nights." He knows how difficult it is to raise children and how hard I work at it. When he gets home from a long day at work, he still finds time to fix, play, hold, talk, and help me out. My husband is the first to boost my spirits and the last to criticize my downfalls. He takes time to listen to my struggles and brainstorms all possible solutions. He is tolerant of who I am and all that I want to be. He allows me to dream and when I can't he dreams for me. He is my cheerleader, my biggest fan...He's the one I want to share the happy times and the man I run to in the difficult ones. He's the one I counsel for parenting help and the one confidant for everything else. My husband is trustworthy and consumed with being with his family every second of every day.

He is the man who I fell in love with...."The One." He's the man I married and the boy I like to play with. He is the comedian when I need a laugh and the lover when I need to feel wanted. He is the man that fathered my children, the one that made them possible. Each time I look into their eyes, I realize the priceless gift he gave to me. My husband is the one who deals with his faults with grace and tries everything to strengthen his weaknesses. He is a father when it's time to discipline...a daddy when it's time to cuddle and watch t.v. on the couch....a dad when there is something they need help with.

I am a great mother and he is a great man and together we can accomplish anything!

I love you Tim....Forever and A Day

A Mysterious Relationship

The relationship between a mother and her child is so mysterious. Life starts within the mother...she nourishes the fetus...her body is used as an incubator, so the baby can grow. The baby is totally dependant on it's mother...although not born, a bond develops...one that can never be broken. At birth the mother gives the gift of life...through the pain and tears, be brings her beautiful child into the world...It is love at first sight.

The infant needs now depends on their mother for everything. The infant knows how her mother sounds, smells, smiles. There is no one that can calm or soothe better than the mother. They need each other, they are inseparable.

The toddler holds its' mother's hand as it takes the first steps. The child looks for their mother in every crowd. The mother is the central focal point of the toddler's life. When she leaves, the child cries.... When she returns the smile is as big as it can be.

Than the school years begin...the child is full of curiosity and wonder....the mother answers a thousand questions a day....she is without a doubt the overflowing river of information the child seeks...even if she makes up the answer, the child believes it...mom's never wrong. When they are dropped off at school there is the hug, the I'll miss yous and for a few moments the tears well in both their eyes.

At thirteen mom knows nothing....school can't come soon enough....friends are the "Holy Grail" and they demand to be dropped off at the corner instead of in front of school. There is seldom a hug, for rolled eyes replace them. There is seldom a communication, for the child is too busy on the phone. The child no longer needs a hand to hold or a shoulder to cry on....They are GROWN....They know EVERYTHING!

At eighteen that bratty teenager flies the coop and heads off to college. The mother deals with the sadness of empty nest, the young adult takes great pride in their new found independence. Mom is great again because she is hundreds of miles away....she sends cards.....she calls....she sends money...she is missed at some level.

Then the child marries and decides to start their own family...Suddenly mom is a friend, a confidant. She knows things again...like coming out of a comma. Strange, the adult child finds her words filled with wisdom once again. There are smiles and hugs shared....For the very first time the child realizes how difficult parenting is and how wonderfully patient their mother was. The mother, with a knowing smirk on her face, is there as always offering advice, love and support. It's a rebirth of the bond that once was.

And just as the child begins to think of their mother as a human...an amazing role model....an irreplaceable friend, she decides to retire and move to Florida. The years pass and now the child is the "dreaded mother"... and the circle of life continues.

Absolutely crazy and yet the story of our lives!

Two Peas

It amazed me when I found out that I was having twins. Two babies growing inside my body at the same time. I was even more amazed that two babies born from the same mother, at the same time, with the same DNA could be so entirely different! I started to recognize their different personalities while they were still in the womb. McKenna was the first born thus, the lowest in place. McKallum the second born, breech and laying very high. McKenna was my mover, shaker and kicker. McKallum very seldom moved, just enough to assure me that he was still there and growing fine. They were delivered early because McKenna's placenta was pulling away from the uterine wall and she was being deprived nutrients.

When they were infants McKenna was the type A personality, demanding attention every second. When she was hungry she would cry....when she was wet, she demanded a change. McKallum was much more laid back, much more passive. He would eat when she wanted food and would be changed when his sister was wet. Once they were old enough to start moving, McKenna always went first. She was a wild child in the bouncer and crawled very quickly...in some ways it seemed that McKenna taught McKallum every thing he knew.

From the womb...to infancy...to toddlers, the personalities continued to develop. As toddlers, both could entertain themselves and play well together. McKenna was very outgoing, McKallum much more reserved. Both showed great intelligence, but in very different ways. Both knew their alphabet, both could count....Kallum was my concentrator....Kenna learned just by being in the same room. McKallum would sit for a long time playing with a single toy. Kenna would flit around from toy to toy like a butterfly on flowers.

Now at age four, their differences continue to define who they are. McKenna is still my adventurous one....my physical one....first one out to the swings....last one in for the night. McKallum enjoys physical activities, but could take them or leave them. McKenna learns quickly and completes her work just as quickly. McKallum is a perfectionist in every sense of the word. McKenna has taken the "Big" sister role to the max...telling McKallum what he is doing wrong and what he needs to practice. McKallum, the "Baby Brother" still cries whenever mommy leaves. McKenna is a snuggler...McKallum is an "I love you" man.

I wonder how their personalities will continue to change in the future. They are twins and they have a very special bond. They are not the same person, not mentally...not physically...not emotionally. They share a family...they share experiences and most of all they share Childhood!

So Fickle

We humans are so fickle. When we have to do something every week we get bored and complain. When we are relieved of this job, we feel left out and alone. The old saying comes to mind..."Be careful what you ask for!"

My husband has always worked the three to eleven shift. Ever since I met him, he worked this shift....you just get used to it. He worked at night and I got things done like scrapbooking and laundry. After we had the twins, my nights were filled with dance lessons, gymnastics, trips to the library, etc.... Each night I would feel so tired...the kids would get on my last nerve...I felt like all the burden was on me. Why couldn't Tim be here at night to help me with everything that needed to get done. Secretly I wished he was here to help....

Then came December, when Tim decided he would change shifts and be home every night. My prayers were answered. He could take the twins to dance....He could take them to gymnastics....a lot less stress and I would have help. AMEN! And so for the first two weeks Tim would come home and take the kids to wherever they needed to go. I would stay home, prepare dinner and feel totally left out. The children are excited that daddy can finally bring them everywhere....not even noticing that mommy has done it for the past four years. Daddy spoils them when they go out...he buys them drinks and snacks from the "forbidden" vending machines. Daddy became the hero, Mommy felt forgotten. But why so fickle? This is what I wished for on so many nights...Why now do I miss the hustle and bustle of getting my children to where they need to go? I used to check in with the teachers....watch every move that the twins made. I knew the kids in their classes and every step to the dance routines. Now I wait for them to come home and try to pry the information out of them.

This week I found myself showing up to their dance class even though daddy had already brought them. I could have been doing anything for that hour and here I was driving to their dance class. Truth is....I'm a mother....I miss my children even when they are only gone for an hour. I'm a mother and I want to know everything that my children take part in...everything they encounter. Without my children I am lonely and just feel empty inside. Parenting does get monotonous...It does get frustrating...We do wish for help. I am very glad that my husband is finally able to be home every evening....It feels great to have back up when I am so tired...when I just can't hear another argument or scream! I guess I secretly wished for a partner more than a replacement. There will be nights when I will welcome Tim taking over, but for the most part our children will be the only ones that have both parents at every practice, class and event. They are so lucky and so am I.

Forever?

My children and I have had many discussions about permanent markers. We do not use them. They are for mommy and daddy only.

This afternoon my four year old came to me with green permanent marker on her hands, arms and legs....She looked at me and said, "Mommy is this forever?"

How can you help but smile and let a giggle out?!

Her Hands

Her hands showed years and years of hard work and toil. The knuckles swollen from severe arthritis...painful just to see. And yet they were so soft, so caring. They could do almost anything. They nursed the sick and cared for the dying. They raised five children and loved thirteen grandchildren. They wallpapered rooms and painted trim. They held pencils to write poems and to complete cross word puzzles. They cooked countless family dinners and washed just as many dishes. They played cards with family and taught children to play Scrabble. They washed windows and vacuumed floors. They cut out patterns and sewed tiny beads on wedding dresses. They planted flowers and harvested gardens. It seemed that her hands could do anything, that they were magical although disfigured from all the pain. My Meme's hand are something I will never forget. There was something so comforting about her hand touching yours,everything just seemed alright.

I wonder what the twins will remember about their grandmother? About me? Will they remember the nights my hands rubbed their backs or held the books at story time? Will they remember the meals my hands prepared and the mounds of laundry they folded? Will they remember my hands clicking the shutter to take pictures and then cutting and pasting each one in a scrapbook? The times I held them close....The times I colored with them.....The times they were folded in prayer?

Funny how we often remember things after they are gone. How everyday things seem so special once they don't happen for a awhile. A hand...a body part...How can five fingers bring back some many warm feelings? So many memories? I'm sure that Meme never took the time to look at her hands...To wonder if she would be remembered for all the good that she did. Take time, look at your hands and think of all the memories they have created for others. Thanks Meme!

Bless the Mothers

Tonight my mind wanders to Haiti. As we are inundated with media coverage and troublesome pictures, I think of the mothers of Haiti. For the mothers that have lost their children....For the mothers that don't know if their child is dead or alive....For the mothers that have died leaving their children as orphans....For the mothers looking through the wreckage for some sort of life.....For the mothers searching for medical aide and food for her young. What must it be like to have lost everything. To be in a country that hardly functioned before the earthquake, never mind now. Where can these brave women find peace? How can they have hope?

I can't imagine being in that situation. How would I survive? Could I? I want to think that I would be strong for my children and search until there is nothing left to search for, but I don't know. My mother and grandmother before her were such strong, incredible women. They faced many adversities and came out the winner. They dealt with poverty, sickness, working full time jobs and raising their young. I strive every day to be the mother that they were and are. They would be strong..nothing would stand between them and their kids. I would like to think that this feeling, these traits are hereditary.

As a child I was always taught to appreciate the United States of America. To understand and realize how lucky I was to be an American child. Looking at the devastation in Haiti, I am even more thankful. Being born in this country was a blessing...a gift that no one could ever take away. Being an American is only a dream for most people...I was born here. A country with a stable government, with opportunities, with infrastructure that can withstand natural disasters. A country that is protected by the world's best military. A place where I feel safe at night...where I can be assured that my children will have a bright tomorrow. Believe me, I am a realist, I know that there are many issues and problems here in America. I realize that we are in a deep recession and that many people are without jobs. I am aware that not all mothers have a home to bring their child to or food to sustain their appetites. But stepping back....I am alive. I live in the greatest nation and I have the opportunity to raise my children as I feel fit.

There are many things that one might pray for this evening, but I encourage everyone to pray for the mothers of Haiti and those missing. Watch the news and don't become desensitize by the media coverage. The people of Haiti are humans with goals, dreams and a desire to live. Bless the mothers and help us to recognize their true inner strength. Pray that we as mothers, in very different situations, can only be half that strong. Thank the Lord that our children are safe, warm and where we can see them. Just pray!

In My Daughter's Eyes

Today is a simple blog...
A song that has really touched me.
A song that says it all.
Enjoy.


In My Daughter's Eyes By Martina McBride

In my daughter's eyes I am a hero
I am strong and wise and I know no fear
But the truth is plain to see
She was sent to rescue me
I see who I wanna be
In my daughter's eyes

In my daughter's eyes everyone is equal
Darkness turns to light and the
world is at peace
This miracle God gave to me
gives me strength when I am weak
I find reason to believe
In my daughter's eyes

And when she wraps her hand
around my finger
It puts a smile in my heart
Everything becomes a little clearer
I realize what life is all about

It's hangin' on when your heart
has had enough
It's giving more when you feel like giving up
I've seen the light
It's in my daughter's eyes

In my daughter's eyes I can see the future
A reflection of who I am and what will be
Though she'll grow and someday leave
Maybe raise a family
When I'm gone I hope you see how happy
she made me
For I'll be there
In my daughter's eyes

The Magic of Imagination

I wonder why people choose to stop using their imaginations? When do we reach that mysterious age when we are too old to take part in the magic of imagination? In one day, my twins can go more places and do more things than most people do in their entire life. Take today for example.....In a twelve hour span they have been veterinarians saving every stuffed animal imaginable. They have been fire fighters climbing ladders and rescuing a trapped family from a towering inferno. They have been race car drivers, going 110 miles an hour and train engineers racing through the country side. They have been skaters trying out for the upcoming Olympics, one practicing jumps, the other chasing a hockey puck. They went outside to our play structures and instantly transformed into a prince and beautiful princess fighting off an evil witch. They have seen animals, people, forests, castles, moats, ice rinks and mountains. They are currently sailing the high seas as pirates. "Ahoy Mateys" is the call coming from the tub.

Why would anyone want to stop using their imagination? So many adults seem unhappy or unsatisfied with the day to day grind. What if we could take time out of our day and travel to exotic places trying out a new identity? Where would you go? What would you do? Who would you become? Albert Einstein once said:

“Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand.”

I do believe that imagination is the key to many successes. I think that we are given children to remember the innocence of youth. To transport us back to a time when imagination ruled the day. And so, I now must travel into the Wild West, where I am a Sheriff trying to catch two rambunctious bandits and get them into bed!

My Art Gallery

As I sit here writing this I am facing a wall in my office. The wall is covered end to end with the twins' art work. It is displayed proudly throughout the house, but this is my gallery. Some pieces are laminated, while others have slight tears. Some are hand drawn while others are decorated with stickers and pictures cut from a magazine. There are apple trees made out of Fruity Cheerios, a Christmas tree made entirely from green hand prints and rockets zooming to space with pictures of the kids as pilots.

I think of the famous art galleries here in America and those abroad.... The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City....The Louvre in Paris......The National Gallery in London. Each of these great buildings house pictures and sculpture worth billions. Art from the masters, DaVinci, van Gogh, Renoir, Monet.......... did their mothers collect their early original works? Were they proudly displayed on the walls of their homes? Did their parents have any inclination that their child was gifted and would one day be considered infamous?

Some of the pieces in our gallery were conceived on our kitchen table, while others came home from school. Some were done with mommy's help while others are totally independent. Some are colorful and discernible......others scribbled and definitely abstract. Some of the pictures were drawn on scraps of paper with markers that were nearly dried out and others are painted on real canvas. These are my Masterpieces. The Twins are my Masters. These works of art hold no value, but to me each one is priceless.

Going for the Gold

     My sister and I are ten years apart.  There is nothing that is similar between us except for the blood that runs through our veins.  She has a laissez-faire attitude about getting things done and I need everything done yesterday. She's a finishes things and I obsess about  perfection.  She's a procrastinator and I try to have everything done three weeks ahead of schedule.  No scenario could prove these points more than the story of the 1988 Reading Olympics.  I was a junior in high school and she was in the first grade.  In hopes that the children in her class would be encouraged to read, her teacher introduced the "Reading Olympics."  If the child read 5-10 books they would receive a Bronze Medal....15-19 books a Silver Medal....anything over 19 THE GOLD!!!  My sister set out on her Olympic journey.  She read and read.....she read 17, 18, 19......And she stopped.  One book away from the gold and she stopped!!!???? Nothing could get her to read one more book.  Why would anyone stop before reaching the gold?  When my mother asked her why she would not read one more book, Melissa responded, "I want the silver medal. I'm happy with the silver."  She was awarded the silver medal and I was furious!

     All of my life I have been a competitor in everything I set out to do.  I wanted to be the best soccer goalie, the best singer in a high school play, the smartest in the class, etc...  The same is true when I became a mother.  I wanted my children to be the smartest, the cutest, the strongest, etc...  Their successes would be a testament to my superb parenting.  I enrolled them in dance, swimming, gymnastics, ice skating, Chinese lessons....you name it my children can do it!  At age four they can write the whole alphabet, spell their names, recite songs and poems, complete first grade math papers.  My children have been groomed to obtain the gold.  Until today...

     When I went to pick the twins up from Preschool, the teacher took me aside.  She asked my if my daughter knew her letters. What? Is there some confusion?  Yes, my daughter and son know and recognize all the letters in the alphabet.  Today their teacher was practicing with her, preparing her for her Kindergarten Screening.  When shown the letters, my daughter said she did not know them.  She only named five.  Five???  What???  My heart began racing and my mind wandered....WHAT WAS I GOING TO DO?  WHY DIDN'T MY CHILD SHOW OFF HER SKILLS??


     Calmly, I walked the kids to the van and once inside I asked my daughter about the allegations her teacher had proclaimed.  McKenna responded, "Mommy, I didn't feel like telling my teacher the right answers.  Other kids don't know their letters, so it is okay if I don't."  Anyone who knows me knows that this almost caused cardiac arrest and a 22 car pile up.  My daughter had no desire to prove herself to her teacher.  She did not want to show off.  She did not want to go for the gold.  How am I to handle this?  Think....Think.....Inhale.....Exhale.....Think.....

     I know that my children are smart.  I know that I have done a great job both as a teacher and a mother.  I realized today that I want the gold and that my children, like my sister,  might have a different color in mind.  I have to step back and let my children find their way.  I have to accept who they are and what they decide to do with their lives.  I have to accept that my wanting them to be the best does not translate into them wanting to be the best.  I decided that these thoughts were right, I was on the right path....I would get over this little blip in the radar.........TOMORROW!  Tonight it is Flashcards, worksheets and lectures.  She is only four and for now we are going to walk on the same path.  Maybe someday she can show me the many colors of life but, today we are reaching for the gold!

Too Fast

     Depression is something that runs in my family.  I was sure that after the birth of my twins I would experience Post-Partum Depression.  Although I worried about it constantly, I never experienced it.  I was so excited to be a mother that I never felt one moment of sadness.  I handled the early days and weeks with confidence and true happiness.  Every day I found something to celebrate and for the very first time in my life I felt complete.  Now, the twins are four and I often find myself looking at them and feeling a hurt in my heart.  When I think of how fast the years have flown by, I feel depression.  I guess I have been blessed with "Growing Up Too Fast Depression."

     The past four years have gone by so fast, like a blur.  One minute they weighed four pounds and the next minute they are in Preschool.  I used to hold them both in my arms and feel their heartbeats, now they are often "too busy" to be cuddled.  They can write their alphabet, do simple addition and get dressed all by themselves.  Although, I celebrate their independence, I wish like most mothers that there was a magic pill that would keep us all in this moment forever.  They want to get taller, I want them to shrink.  They want to run and I remember carrying them.  There are so many things that I look forward to in the future, so why do I get these feelings of dread?

     Through much soul searching, I realized that I was looking at the "growing up process" all wrong.  I am not loosing my babies, I am watching them transform into the person they were destined to become.  I need to look at each new year as a "Rebirth."  As they age, my children will change and become new people right in front of my eyes.  As with true birth, I will be given the chance to meet my child in a new way.   There will be new adventures, new conversations and a new relationship to share.  I guess I can compare it to eating a favorite cookie.....As you eat the last bite you can lament that it is the last bite or you can rejoice in having the chance to eat the cookie in the first place. 

                       I choose to rejoice!

The Big Picture

       Yesterday I spent two hours of my "quiet" time trying to get the photo slide show attatched to this blog.  I was literally going mental uploading pictures and pushing every button necessary to make it work.  Finally I got it to work.....quite stressful!  Now why are these pictures so important?  Why the intense need to share them with strangers reading this blog?  I love pictures...I love my childern and since the beginning the two have been inseperable.

        Anyone that knows me, expects a camera in my hand and new photos on the computer at least four times a week.  During the twins' four and a half years, I have snapped more than 10,000 pictures.  I was determinied to document each and every moment of my children's lives.  Not just the "BIG" milestone moments, but the tiny ones that no one else would notice.  Then the pictures would have to be placed into scrapbooks....someday they would want to see them.....(well maybe more for me than them).  With family literally all over the country, I then decided to send pictures across the internet so that everyone could celebrate my children. 

       I remember a time when I would literally have to stand on my head to get the babies to look at the camera, never mind smile.  Today the kids naturally pose where ever we are.  "Mom, take my picture next to the elephant."  "Mommy take our picture in front of our school."  "Mom take my picture eating this donut."  Why are these images so important to me?  Why have I made them so important to my twins?

       Pictures document the good times, the family trips, the fun times, the new homes, the first steps, the first day of school and everything in between.  They create a record of our lives and remind people that we were here, on this Earth, after we are gone.  Pictures allow us to hold loved ones close even when they are gone from our lives.  They give us the opportunity to share the past with the present and the present with the future.  Pictures help us prove to our thirteen year old that we did do fun things....that we were not always boring.  Pictures help us deal with the "empty nest" and help them remember home when they leave.  In old age pictures become the life line to our past as our own memories stumble.

     Find the camera, take it out, point, shoot and DON'T FORGET TO SMILE!

     

    

What helps us get through?

There are many different things that help people get through events in life...


"You look terrific!"                     Helps some get through a diet.
"One more mile!"                        Helps some finish the race.
"The weekend is almost here!"    Helps some get through the work day.

So what gets us, as parents, through our toughest job?  Through our real "work day?"


That was the question of the day ...the key to my "Parenting Success."  Each and every morning we rise with the knowledge that today, like yesterday, we must face our biggest challenges......OUR CHILDREN!!  There will be the fussing, the whining, the fighting, the snacks, the loss of appetite at ever meal, the carpool, the playdate, the "I wants", etc....  So what gets us motivated?  What golden nugget do we cling to in hope that today will be a great parenting day?

For me, I try to remember that one special moment that took place the day before.  The cute look, the extra long hug, the "I love you mommy."  I go back into my tired and often confused mind to that ray of sunshine that my children brought to me the day before.  I ended my blog yesterday with a quote fom my daughter which said, "Mommy, that was a thank you play for all the nice things you do for us."

That was my trophy for yesterday and my driving force for today. 

Our children are always there to compliment us, if we take the time to listen.  So often in the hustle and bustle of the average day, we concentrate on the wrongs instead of all that is right.  We hear the fighting and not the tender I love yous.  We see the crayon marks on the wall and not the giant smiles of admiration.  We tend to look for praise from the outside world, when really our stongest supporters are 40 inches tall and spilling milk on the table.

Tonight, I challenge all parents:  When you are finally given the peace and quite that bed time brings, take a few moments to recall the day.  Relive conversations and actions from the past twelve hours.  Find at least one "golden nugget" and put it to work.  Celebrate your trophy for the day and your driving force for tomorrow.  For we can only judge true "Parenting Success" by seeing it through the eyes of our children!

Born to Mother

There was never a moment when I didn't want to be a mother. Throughout childhood I mothered animals, dolls, cousins, neighbors and even tried "mothering" my parents. When I was looking for Mr. Right, I was looking for the "Perfect" father for my children. When I found him I married him and then all the "Fun" began. By fun I am referring to the conversations about having children....waiting for the right time....."Why can't I get pregnant?"......"Which Fertility Doctor should I call?"......11 failed IUI.....2 failed invitros....Sadness and heartache each time the test came back negative. And then one cold December day it happened....The phone rang, I held my breath and I heard the most amazing words...."YOU'RE PREGNANT!"

Once I came down from cloud nine, the realization and morning sickness began. Three weeks into the pregnancy we found out that we were being blessed with twins. From the very start I knew I was having a Boy and a Girl. What could be more perfect?

Tonight, four years later, my boy and girl perform a "play" for my husband and I. At the end of the masterpiece, my little girl looks at me and says.... "Mommy, that was a thank you play for all the nice things you do for us."

I guess I was born to mother!