Spot the difference

Can you spot the difference between these two Lightning McQueen cars?  Look closely.

There ONE difference that is VERY important to my almost three-year-old.

If you thought it was the hood decoration you'd be wrong.

The one on the left "has leluhs" and the one on the right "hassa pisson cup!"  (letters and piston cup).  Nicholas definitely notices that, but it's not the most important difference.

Is it the fire vs. the plain lightning bolt?  Nope.

It's the yellow rim around the tires.

This McQueen has "da yellow fings" and the other McQueen has white rings around the rims.

It took me A LOOOOOOONG time to figure out what he was talking about when he lost McQueen "wif da yellow fings!  Wun no has pisson cup."

Why do I bother telling you about this important detail?  Because it explains why I have yet another Lightning McQueen car around the house.  We have four of the piston cup McQueens.  Yes, four.  And those are just the diecast ones.  We also have a wooden one, two bubble-bath McQueens, two squinky McQueens, and one micro-drifter racer McQueen.  He likes to line them all up and call them a family.  

But his comfort item, the thing that he cannot fall asleep without, the thing that goes with him everywhere, and the one toy he absolutely will not share with anyone.... McQueen wif da yellow fings.  

We were in Toys R Us having a little Mom-Nicholas alone time, and I told him he could pick out one small thing to buy.  We had spent the last few hours running errands and standing in line all over town to make returns.  He was so patient and stood next to me quietly the entire time.  I am really impressed with how helpful and obedient he's become.

As a reward we went to Toys R Us to play with the Thomas train table and pick out a small toy.  We were walking through the aisles when all of a sudden he goes, "MOM! LOOK!" and points.  I am perplexed at his excitement because we were in the midst of educational games and toddler toys, passing through one our way to the train section.  We were at least three aisles away from anything he would usually get excited about.  He took off running in the direction he was pointing saying, "Come show! Pick me up!"  

At the complete opposite end of the store (I'm not exaggerating when I say it was at least 30 yards away), there was a small end cap display of Lightning McQueen.  Three rows of five cars each, all Lightning McQueen.  They looked exactly identical to me.  It reminded me of that shot of the Buzz Lightyear aisle in Toy Story.  Anyway, he was jumping up and down, saying, "You pick me, Mom?  Pweese?  You pick me?"  I scooped him up and he immediately reached out and snatched the middle car from the bottom row.  

"Wook! I want dis."

Me:  "Nicholas, you already have a lot of Lightning McQueen cars, don't you want to pick out something different?"

N:  "No, I want dis."  Clutching it to his chest.

Me:  "But you already have that one."

N: "No!  Dis have yellow fings!"

Me: "What?"

N:  "Da yellow fings, Mom."

Me: "I thought we were going to look at the Thomas stuff."

N:  "No, I want dis."

Me:  "Well, let's go see what other cars they have..."

N:  "No, I want dis."

We went to the car aisle and I tried to tempt him with many other cars that he did not have, but he would not be swayed.  It wasn't until we were leaving that I noticed that his car DID have yellow things around the wheels.  I looked at the display where he had gotten it.  Lo and behold it was the ONLY one that had yellow things around the wheels.  All of the other cars were regular piston cup McQueens.  He had seen, from halfway across the store, that this one Lightning McQueen, amidst fourteen other McQueens, had yellow things on its wheels while the others did not.

That's pretty amazing.

Best milestone EVER

They can hold their own bottles!  Which means I have at least a five minutes of hands-free time!!!!  UNHEARD OF.  And awesome.

Of course, they only get bottles once or twice a day, so it's not really saving me THAT much time, but still.  I'll take what I can get :)

Did I ever post these?

He's so funny.  We came downstairs one day to find him like this:

Just chillin' in the hole where the sink is supposed to go.  Pretty ingenious, actually.  I'm sure it makes a very cozy seat.

Work

Sometimes I find myself thinking I would be a much better parent if I only had one child.  Other times, I remember what it was like to only have one child and I realize that I'm a much better parent now.

On one hand, if I only had one child, I would have time (in theory) to keep the house clean and organized, get some exercise, prepare filling and nutritious meals, and pour myself into creating an enriching childhood for Nicholas.  

On the other hand, by having three children I am a more patient and well-versed mother.  I have much more perspective and calmness about me now than I did the first time around.  I am providing my children with siblings--who can teach them many things that I cannot.

Things they learn through experience like sharing, compassion, gentleness, empathy, and fraternity.

And teasing, of course.

But sometimes I can't help but feel like a terrible let-down as a mother.  I know, in the rational part of my brain, that I am a good mother.  I love my children.  I provide them with a safe, peaceful, protected, healthy environment.  I show them how much I love them all the time, and I genuinely enjoy my work as a mother.  

However, the emotional part of my brain is completely overwhelmed with guilt.  Guilt at how I would rather check-out mentally and watch a torrid teenage soap opera than spend time with my two-year-old.  Guilt at how easy it is for me to plunk my kids (yes, kidS, even my infants) in front of the television just so that I can do something that I want to do (like take a shower that's long enough for me to wash my hair) instead of playing cars...AGAIN.  That's a lie.  I don't play cars.  I don't know how, and I hate it.  But I feel very little guilt over that.  I will play with my son in different ways.  I don't do cars.  That's Dad's job.   

In front of the TV, as admitted.
And to add to the gloriousness, those are shoes that the girls are chewing on.  

I know things will change with time.  Right now they are all very, very little.  They are impressionable and susceptible.  They are at the mercy of emotional state which is why I feel so much guilt...all...the...time.  Because, let's face it, my emotional state right now is very fragile!  You try to be reasonable and sound minded when you're never asleep for longer than 1-2 hours at a time.  A good friend of mine related to me that her second child never slept for longer than 2 hours at a time from birth to age 9 months and during that time she hated her life.  Quite literally.  She would say it to herself all throughout the day (which I'm sure didn't help things, but really, can you blame her??).  Then, once she started getting some more sleep, all of a sudden she loved her life.  She saw all of the wonderful aspects of having two children.  Nothing had changed in her life at all except that she was getting more sleep at night. 

Thankfully, I'm not at that point yet (give me a few more months, maybe).  I am still able to see through my sleep deprived fog and appreciate how incredible my life is at this stage.  I gotta tell you--- there is nothing better than laying next to a sleeping child curled into your abdomen.  Or watching your baby fall asleep nursing, knowing that he/she feels content and safe in your arms.  Multiply that feeling by two when I get to watch them fall asleep nursing and holding each others hands!  Love it.

I guess my real guilt comes from not being available to Nicholas.  I purposely chose NOT to read parenting books for a long time because whenever I picked one up, I felt nothing but anxiety and guilt.  Even if I was doing what the book said I should be doing!  Parenting books, to me, are just an affirmation that it's possible that you could really screw up your kids if you do it wrong.  And there are so many ways to do it wrong.  I've gotten to the point that I can take advice with a grain of salt---realize that it's advice, and not the gospel.  But more recently, all of the parenting blogs/articles/books that I used to find helpful and enlightening are just plain scary to me.  

The girls are pretty easy at this stage--- as long as I keep them well-fed, well-rested, and interact with them by holding them/talking to them, I feel like I'm succeeding.  Well done.  

Most of my angst comes from watching Nicholas perish by the wayside.  He's so sensitive to everything that I do.  EVERYTHING.  And I kind of feel like I'm training up a little couch potato diabetic.  When he gets grumpy, I give him food.... or plop him in front of an episode of Shaun the Sheep because I just don't have the mental energy to "deal" with anything.  I really only make an effort to interact with him when the guilt over him playing by himself for so long becomes overwhelming.

A small moment of interactive mom... those are shark socks on our hands.

So then I go over to him, all gung-ho, thinking I'm going to be the best mommy ever for the next 15 minutes and do whatever it is he wants to do.  One of two things ends up happening: 1. the girls wake up, become discontented with whatever was entertaining them, or decide they have to have food now or they will languish with starvation.  2. he wants to play cars, of course, and, as already stated, I hate that.  So I get bored after 15 seconds, let alone 15 minutes.  I decide to suggest an activity that I would like to do with him.  If I can get him to agree, then we have to get all prepped for it (if it's going outside, we need shoes on.  If it's a craft, I have to get it out.  If it's a game, I need to find it.  If it's building tracks, we need to go downstairs which means moving the babies.  etc. etc.).  And without fail, by the time we're ready to really start having fun together, the girls melt down.  So then poor Nicholas either gets left by himself again, or I turn on the television so I can feed the girls in peace.  (sidenote:  why is it that babies who are hungry enough to scream until their throats get rough aren't hungry enough to keep their mouths on the nipple if their big brother emits any kind of noise??)

Okay, if we're going to be honest, the real guilt comes from me not doing what I should be doing.  Guilt doesn't just come from nowhere.  If I reached for my scriptures instead of the television remote or if I picked up a cleaning rag instead of my knitting, I probably wouldn't feel so guilty.  I'd probably be able to make good decisions like going to bed as soon as the kids go to bed instead of staying up late putzing around just so I can relish the fact that I have nobody touching me, crying in my ear, or making me do what they want to do.  Nighttime is when I get to do what I want to do!!!!  

I like to tell myself that I NEED my down time to rest and recuperate.  I like to tell myself that it's a necessity to my performance as a good mother.  But, is it really?  We had a talk about work on Sunday.  I would like to tell you what the whole wonderful talk was about, but I can really only recall my personal impressions.  I know there were some great references to talks by general authorities, but keeping three little ones quiet is a little involved, and I really only retain what I am feeling during the talks.  And what I felt was this:  Now is the time for work.  Work is a blessing.  It helps us.  We feel good doing it.  It helps the work of the Lord.  There is no such blessing and good feeling in idleness.  And what I am doing and calling "rest" is really just idle behavior.  I can rest efficiently for my needs by sitting peacefully or meditating.  I can get the mental break that I need by reading a good book or taking a nap.  All of these would be great forms of rest that help me be a better worker.  What I'm doing now-- wasting away hours in front of the television or my computer--- not helping me move forward.  It feels like I'm giving my mind a break, escaping from reality for a bit, but I'm really just filling it with trash.  

My problem here is not knowing what needs to be done.  It's doing it.  This post was more about sorting through my feelings and thoughts than anything else.  I felt like my head was going to burst with all of these horrible feelings of failure and frustration.  Now that I've taken the time to express some of my thoughts in words, I'm feeling much better.  It's always great to articulate what you're feeling.  

Whining

My whole house smells like urine and feces... and rotting vegetables from all of the nutritious, wonderful dinners I planned and never made.  I just feel like my whole life is a disaster area.  The kind of disaster area that requires yellow caution tape all around the perimeter to warn people that entering may endanger their life.  That kind of disaster.  I keep waiting and hoping that someone else will come in and take the reigns of my life and whip it into shape.  (How's that for mixed metaphors?)

I get so overwhelmed looking at "my realm" as a list of things that need to be done.  It feels like I'm looking at a huge pile of garbage that needs to be removed before it starts to stink.... but I constantly have a baby in my arms.  Imagine trying to clean up garbage while you're holding a baby.  It's just not going to work.

So I called in some help.  We found a cleaning lady who seems wonderful, but we haven't actually had her come yet.  I'm waiting, with bated breath, to hear from her about scheduling.  In fact, if I haven't heard by tomorrow, I'm going to call her because what little motivation I had before (to do something about the gross-factor of my house) has completely evaporated.  In fact, I find myself purposely leaving things around because "the cleaning lady will come soon."

Here's my concern:  is having a cleaning lady really going to let me enjoy life a little more because I don't have to worry about the cleaning?  OR am I going to lose all motivation whatsoever to be more than a bump on a log.  Will the poor cleaning lady have to come in a clean around my swollen and carb-filled body, sprawled on my bed while I flip from side to side nursing my little ones while poor Nicholas runs around just as dirty and grimy as my house used to be?  Sometimes I feel like the only reason I have to do anything but lay around and nurse my girls is because my house needs to be cleaned.  Well, if that's taken care of for me, and if Armando is in charge of "walking the Nitch," why do I need to get up?  Can't I just lay in bed and watch TV while I nurse the girls until they're old enough to crawl away on their own?  I vote yes.

Recently

Learned how to carry them both at the same time.  Kate in front, Lauren in the back.

We moved our big TV into the bedroom because we only ever had time to watch our shows right before bed.  We had this massively awesome television sitting in the basement practically unused while we were watching LOST on our laptops in bed.  Well, problem solved.  And another problem created:  I never leave my bedroom now.  And Nicholas has watched MASSIVE amounts of Shaun the Sheep while I nurse.   

These girls have their mother's genes--- they LOVE to be naked.  If they're exceptionally fussy during the day and I need to get something finished (like dinner).  I'll just whip off their diapers and leave their bums in the open air.  It shuts them right up.  I can get a good 15 minutes out of it.  They look at their feet and kick and squeal delightedly.  I usually leave a diaper underneath them to catch any pee.  Thank you to Katie for teaching me this.  It's a lifesaver!

Nicholas eating noodles without clothes on--I can't remember why--but he was cold, so I put a towel over him.  Then he started eating with his elbows tucked into his sides like velociraptor arms.  I'm not sure why, but it was pretty funny.

Big Brother

I want to make sure and document what a wonderful brother Nicholas has been to his little sisters.  I don't want to forget all of the wonderful moments of compassion and love that I see between him and the girls.



The other day I was getting ready to nurse both screaming, "starving" girls, but I had to run to the bathroom before I nestled in.  I left the girls, crying and protesting, in the middle of my bed.  Nicholas was playing in the front room.  As I was washing my hands the piercing screams of hungry babies died down.  Silence filled the house...aaah, such peace.  I flew to the bedroom (because we all know that silence, while golden, can also be a very bad thing), but I needn't have worried.  Nicholas had come to the rescue.  I found him perched on the edge of the bed, holding Lauren's hand softly saying, "No crying, Lauren.  No crying, Kate.  It's okay... stop crying, it's okay."  Kate and Lauren were mesmerized by his little face and soft voice.



Lest we think all is roses and sunshine, let me say that about ten minutes later he got put in time out for falling on Lauren after I had already gotten mad at him for falling on Kate (he was jumping on the bed while I was nursing...not okay).

Nicholas "helping" Kate move her head.

But all in all, he is truly a helper in our house.  He helped me cut up the cucumbers and carrots for lunch today.  Every day I find that he is more and more obedient and respectful.  I am so thankful for such a wonderful son who will be a protector of my daughters.  Whenever strangers try to talk to the babies, he is very quick to say, "No!  You no say hi to them!"  :)  We're still working on politeness.

I think this is Lauren, but I'm not sure to be honest with you.

I think I might have written about this already, but I'm not sure, so I want to include it here just in case.  Nicholas is the only kid I've ever seen who runs TOWARD what he is afraid of.  I think he's a warrior in spirit.  When he is scared by something, he'll always look right at it and say, "NO!" before he comes running to my side.  One day right after we moved into this house (so just after his 2nd birthday), we had a telephone repairman in the basement looking into a problem with the phone wiring.  Our landline had been calling 911 and hanging up all night, apparently--there was a very unsettling late-night visit from the police officers wondering if everything was okay.  Anyway, Nicholas hadn't seen the man enter, so I don't think he knew that he was there.  The guy went outside to his car to get some more tools, and when he came back downstairs he passed by the room where Nicholas was playing.  Nicholas, upon seeing a strange man walk into his house, stood up and screamed, "NO! YOU GO! OUT! NO! NOT YOU! YOU GO!" and ran toward the man.  He was terrified!  He came to find me, in tears.  I was so surprised at how instinctive it was for him to fight instead of flee.  That's from his Dad, for sure :)

Nicholas and Kate in the bath.  I had to give Nicholas a bath in the morning while Lauren was sleeping (because he stuck his head inside my mixing bowl to lick the chocolate off the bottom, thereby getting chocolate all over his entire head).  I let Kate get in for a little bit.  He got a real kick out of it!

Spontaneous hug.

He always asks, very politely, to hold the girls. "Mom, may I pick them?"  He means pick them up, and he thinks it's synonymous with holding.  He knows just what to do.  He situates himself comfortably with his legs extended in front of him.  Then he places both hands, palms up, on top of his legs.  I've tried several times to get him to hold their heads with one arm, but he would rather have them rest upon his legs with his hands under their backs.  In the beginning I would hold the head for him, but now they're big enough to sort of sit up in his lap.  They have also discovered his hair (all hair, for that matter, much to my chagrin), and he laughs and laughs every time they grab it.

Nicholas "picking" Kate

I think my favorite part about Nicholas as an older brother is how gentle he is (when he's paying attention).  I've never had to worry when I leave the room and the three of them are together semi-unattended.  He has been curious, and in the beginning I would catch him with his finger in their eyes or up their noses, but my fingers were in those places a lot too so I know where he learned it! :)  It didn't take long, though, before he realized how to act around the babies.  He is quiet during nap time.  He never complains when we have to wait to do something so I can take care of the babies.  Whenever he hears them cry, he knows that I need to go help them which means I need to leave whatever we were doing together.  I keep waiting for him to have a fit about this or at least complain a little, but he never does.  What a peacemaker :)

What a guy.  I sure love my little big brother.

And no, my bed is never made.

Identical

So, when you have twins, you have the same conversation every five minutes of every public outing.  It goes a little something like this:
"Oh my goodness, are they twins?"
"Yes." (I wonder what people would do if I said no...)
"Are they identical?"



I had no good answer.  Before now, I would say one of two things:  "Well... we're not really sure.  You see, blah blah blah" and I'd explain the details of the placentas and sacs (two words that are really awkward to say to complete strangers).  Or else I'd simply say, "I don't know" with the intonation of that guy from Mickey Blue Eyes.  One time I said, "No, they're fraternal."  Because it was easier and the most likely scenario anyway, but I couldn't bring myself to say it again after that.

Some people would respond and say, "Well, they sure look identical to me!"  Or they'd say, "Oh, they're probably fraternal... look at how different they look!"  Or else they'd just continue harping on the fact that I didn't know and I was their mother!  "My so-and-so had twins and they knew that they were identical before they were born.  I thought they could tell something like that in ultrasounds...."  And then I would explain AGAIN.

For those who have NOT heard my explanation, here are the bullet points:
- one sac and placenta = identical twins where the egg split between day 9-12
- one sac and two placentas = identical twins where the egg split between day 4-8
-two sacs and two placentas = identical twins where the egg split between day 1-3 or fraternal twins
-fraternal twins ALWAYS have two sacs and two placentas.
-if you only have ONE of something, then you know they are identical (unless you have a fused placenta which means that you have two placentas that have fused to look like one)
-if you have TWO of everything and they're the same gender, then it could go either way.  The only way to know for sure is to have a DNA test done.
-identical twins share the same DNA
-DNA can be identical, but expressed differently--- so they have the same DNA, but not the same fingerprints or hair swirls and stuff like that.  
-it's very possible to have identical twins that look quite a bit different, and it's possible to have fraternal twins that look very much alike. (For example the Olsen twins are fraternal, not identical.  And these twins are identical, but sure don't look it.)



Also, I wonder if a lot of twins that are labeled "fraternal" might actually be identical, but people don't know so they never question it.  If I hadn't read a bunch of twin books, I wouldn't have known that two sacs/placentas (also known as dichorionic/diamniotic or di/di twins) could still be identical.  All of the doctors that you see through your whole pregnancy just assume that di/di means fraternal, and they label all your charts that way.  The only reason I even thought to look at more information was because our ultrasound technician mentioned in passing that "some identical twins have separate sacs and placentas."

So sometimes, when I meet moms-of-multiples who have fraternal twins of the same gender that look remarkably alike, I wonder if they know.....  not my place to assume that they're ignorant :)  I know.



Anyway, I never had an answer for this question that I was asked EVERY SINGLE DAY.  We weren't going to shell out money for a DNA test that wasn't really necessary.  And we kept saying, "Oh, in a few months I'm sure it will be obvious...."  But months passed, and it wasn't obvious.  It really, really bothered me that I had no good answer to this question that I get asked all the time.

Do they look so similar because they're sisters and they're both babies and all babies kind of look alike or are they identical?  Sometimes I think if Katie and I had been babies at the same time we would have looked like twins.



Do they have differences because identical twins have some slight differences in the expression of their DNA or are they fraternal?  I have a lot of identical twin friends who look quite different-- it's not hard at all to tell who is who.

While I was back in Indiana visiting my family, I mentioned the testing to my mom and sisters.  It was decided then and there that I should just order the test :)  And I'm glad I did because it turns out they ARE identical!

And it's so nice to know.

Privatization

Apparently that is actually a word.  I kind of thought I made it up.

As I tried to add my Uncle Dave to my e-mail list, I came across a new (to me) feature of blogger.  You can see where people visiting your site come from.  For example, if you click on a link to my blog--- I can tell what website contained the link.

I was a little shocked to find that a large portion of my blog traffic came from the blog of a woman that I do not know.  She has my blog on her list of "Blogs that I like."  I'm flattered, but a little confused because I really only write about my family and it seems to me that it would only be interesting to people who know us.  I was also surprised to find out that a lot more people check my blog than I thought.  Again, flattered, but confused.

I'm a little torn about taking this blog private.  My original decision to make it public was two-fold:

1.) My mom had a really difficult time accessing it because she had to sign-in first.  Therefore she never read it, and she's one of the main people I write it for.

2.)  I'm a blog-stalker.  There, I said it.  I'm confessing to slipping over to other people's blogs and relishing the funny stories they have about their own funny families.  People I haven't spoken to in YEARS.  In fact, sometimes people I only know through mutual friends (i.e. my sister.  One of her friends is also married to a Peruvian and she's an English professor so her writing is fabulous.  I mean, how could I NOT spy on her??).

If everyone took their blog private, I would be really sad!  In fact, I AM really sad that some of my friends have taken their blogs private and I can't sneak around and see them any more.

On the other hand.... if I'm doing that, who knows how many other people are doing that to me!  And that kind of creeps me out.  I have a lot of information about my family on this blog, and it is scary that people I don't know anything about could be viewing it.

Most of the people who are viewing my blog are probably not creepy.  I wouldn't consider myself creepy for looking at the blog of a friend that I met at EFY when I was 14...and then again when I was 19 and a counselor.  That may have been the only contact that we had and I wouldn't call her up to chat anytime soon, but it's nice to know what's going on in her life, especially since she also has twins and a toddler.  Alas, I digress.

The point here is this:

I am going to take this blog private, e-mail me if you would like an invitation to read it.

I may make it public again (if my mom still can't figure out how to see it), but for right now, Arby, Nitch 'n Late will be closed in one week.

ABCD's

The other day I gave Nicholas a bag of magnetic letters to stick on the fridge while I finished eating my lunch.  The girls were asleep, so the house was unusually quiet, which means I could hear what Nicholas was singing to himself as he played.

"Q R S, T U Movie....Q R S, T U Movie.... Q R.." over and over again :)  I thought it was so funny, so I filmed him.  I chuckled when he said it again and he heard me and turned around.  Then he looked at me sternly and accusingly said, "You no be happy, Mom!" :)  

Oh, also, he calls them the "A B C D's" which I like better than just plain ol' abc's.