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!