We Moved ...

to a new adventure at Morning Ice Pops ...

won't you come visit us?

Days Fly By, Almost New Year's

The old saying time flies by used to annoy me, but now I have realized how much truth it holds. I wish I had more time to write here and document incredible moments with the girls.

Like last Saturday when the girls were playing "night, night" with my husband's father and Zoe put a blanket over him and then proceeded to sing him "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." She had the hand gestures memorized. I teared up.

Today the girls helped feed their younger cousin lunch and were proud as can be. It made me remember how small they used to be, and that they aren't really babies anymore, even though I still refer to them as such.

Or when Izzy hung up with my father on the phone the other day and then went to the window to look for him. They had a game when the weather was warmer in the Fall, where Poppy would go outside and give Izzy kisses though the window. Izzy said, "Where's Poppy," and pushed her little nose up to the glass.

Now the girls recognize places along the roadside, I have to be more strategic about my routes. I can't drive by the Sherwood Diner in Westport without being asked about 100 times to go eat there, even if we've just exited the parking lot. Their favorite ice cream place has a life size cow fake cow outside that they sat on for a photo this summer and whenever they pass it they say "mooooooooooo, ice cream?????" no matter what time of day.

Yesterday, the girls helped me make cookies for their class snack. I didn't realize how much I could allow them to help. I let them help mix and pour ingredients into the bowls once I had measured them out. It was such a joy to see them become excited with the process of baking a cookie from start to finish and then enjoy it together.

I used to sing to the girls when we had to drive in the car and now they sing to me. It's a good thing they learned because I am no American Idol. I just did it to get a laugh or a smile.

One new little habit that is amusing, yet often annoying, is the girls direct me when I am driving. They say "this way," or "that way" and get very upset if I don't follow their command.

Anyway, I guess I am saying that I regret not documenting more of these moments so I am going to make a better effort in 2011.

I swear it's a tomato

I awoke this morning to the whining cry of my daughter Isabelle. The clock on the cable box said 5:18am. Too early.

Mind you Izzy hasn't napped in three days. I figured she would be asleep until 9am.

I decide to be strong and wait it out a bit. But between the crying, the sound of my husband snoring next to me and the cat meowing to let me know the baby was crying, I had no choice but to get out of bed.

I throw on my "mom" robe -- a big fuzzy pink one -- and walk bleary-eyed down the creaky hallway. The sun hasn't yet come up, but the light in the downstairs hallway is shining up the stairs. Without thinking to turn it off, I open the door to my daughters' room.

Izzy is standing up in her crib, arms outstretched, with monkey tucked securely under her armpit.

"Upppp-ieee," she says.

I lift her up out of the crib and sneak out the door. Her semi closed eyes open wide in the light. She now asks for a pop (lollipop), which are prohibited until further notice. I realize I can't try and get her back to bed in the hallway with the lights on below, so I carry her back into my bedroom rubbing her back in hopes to get her back into dreamland.

I sit on the chair in my room (straight up) and rub her back until she closes her eyes and rests head on my shoulder. I am sitting there hoping that I can also fall back asleep. By this time it's 5:40am and the sky is starting to brighten ever so slightly. The night is slipping away from me and reality is sinking in. I try to slip back into bed.

My husband is still snoring away. It is not as loud as it could be, but in the silence it's loud enough. Neither Izzy and I are going back to sleep.

"Show," she demands.

I turn on the T.V. and my hubby doesn't budge. Izzy starts to squirm and scream.

"Snacks!!!!" she yells, and with that she slides off the bed and heads down the hallway to the stairs. She wears a sleep sack to bed so when she walks it's all wobbly like someone from Star Wars. I turn off the T.V. and my hubby doesn't seem to flinch.

Downstairs I go with my daughter to get a snack. I pour Cheerios into a snack trap, feed the cat and grab her something to drink. She catches sight of something in the fridge.

"Apple?" she requests.

I turn around and grab an apple. Arched back, screaming and tears ensue. She turns back to the fridge.

"Door... open!!!!" she yells. "APPLEEEEEE!!!"

I open the door and say show me. She points to a small container of cherry tomatoes.

"Izzy, those aren't apples," I explain.

But she isn't having it. I glance at the microwave. 5:50am. Not even 6am, are you kidding me?

I am clearly not going to win this debate. She is on the floor flopping around like a fish out of water over a tomato she thinks is an apple. So I decide to get it out of the fridge, cut it up and give it to her to eat.

Her arms wave in delight (a.k.a. happy hands) during the process. I cut the small tomato in half and we walk back over to the T.V. in the family room. Ni-Hau Kai-Lan is on. Finally we are into morning hours, although still too early. Meanwhile, Izzy is chanting "apple, apple."

She bites into the "apple."

"Eeeeewwwww," she says and throws it on the ground. Classic.

Our Very First Aid

I am sure there is more to come, but my poor little girl had to have stitches last week. She was walking along the water's edge at low tide and fell forward. A jagged shell sliced open her knee.

I swooped her up while blood ran down her knee at mock speed and raced up to the First Aid station at Compo Beach in Westport.

A young, pretty girl in a bikini and short shorts rinsed off her leg with some water. She seemed a little out of her element, but sweet none-the-less. After looking at the cut again, I knew stitches were unavoidable. We got in the car. Luckily my babysitter was with me that day, otherwise I may have started to cry as well.

We got into the car and drove off to the emergency walk-in. The hospital was too far -- I was out of gas -- and the people who usually do stitches and such were out of the office on holiday. We called ahead and they let us right into a room. I was thankful not to have to be in the waiting room with a screaming, tired and super scared toddler. My amazing new sitter took Zoe and got everyone some lunch at the diner across the street, and then went to Walgreens for some diapers. The one time I forget to restock the diapers in the diaper bag and of course needed them desperately. Go mom...

After a few minutes of trying to keep Isabelle calm and distracted, I wondered where the nurses and doctor had gone off to. I realize there were other people waiting to be seen, but I had always thought blood and a screaming toddler somehow bumped you to the front of the line. I popped my head out the door to see what was happening. The nurse then informed me it would be about an hour and a half wait.

Isabelle then started to go into hysterics when I closed the door again. I started to brainstorm as to how I was going to keep her happy until they came to sew back up her knee, which would also be an unhappy time. It was nearly Noon -- both lunch and nap time -- which meant the hysterics would just worsen over time. After about an hour, the nurses took pity on me and convinced the doctor to detour.

The women in the waiting room offered to let us go ahead, but the doctor was determined to make a point. There was a serious reason this guy wasn't a pediatrician. Anyway, I can't say anything bad because I am thankful he sewed up my daughter's knee and that I didn't have to wait in a hospital. That would be much scarier.

They numbed the knee and cleaned out the sand and small rocks. Ouch. Isabelle was still hysterical. She actually fell asleep during the stitches, about eight in all (very jagged cut), out of exhaustion. We went home so everyone could nap.

The silence was needed all around. When Izzy woke up, she said "banana!" That was followed by a grilled cheese. She seemed to be in good spirits, all be it quite drained.

We all had ice cream for dinner.

Happy Birthday to Us!

The girls turned two officially on Saturday at 12:05am and 12:06am. I can vaguely remember waking up at the hospital after having slept for three hours in a total fog. I was a mess. The anesthesia didn't agree with me and I was sick for the next several days (and all through my csection). But let me tell you, it was worth it. Look at those beauties. Love you girls! I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I am thankful everyday for you two. Love you, Mu-mah xoxo

Terrific and Terrible Twos ... Ready or Not, Here We Come!

The girls turn two on Saturday. Where does the time go? I can't believe it.

Just in time for their birthday, I purchased a "time out" chair. It's a small, pink, hand-painted chair I picked up at Home Goods that says, "Even princesses sometimes need a time out."

When I came home with the chair I explained that it was a naughty chair (trying to channel Nanny Jo here) and that they would have to sit in it when they didn't listen to mommy. Well, I think it all went in one ear and out the other.

They love that chair. They stand on it. They fight each other to sit in it. They push it around. They put their dollies in it.

Just yesterday, Izzy was standing on the dining room table and I told her to get off and sit down. She laughed in my face so I picked her up and sat her down in the chair. She had a grin from ear to ear. With that, Zoe climbs up onto the table and stands up and starts to laugh. I pick her up and stand her over by Izzy. They start to push each other for a piece of the chair to sit on. I am thinking we need another chair. They are going to be warming that corner for a while.

I wouldn't say the girls are terrible, but they definitely are defiant. I guess that is the age though. They are really smart so I know they understand they aren't supposed to do certain things, but then when I tell them no, they think it's a game. Or rather they turn it into a fun game to seek attention -- all the while negative attention -- from mommy.

We have a small back yard that runs into woods. Most of our street is on a hill so the houses have more front yard then back yard, but we recently moved in and haven't decided whether we will clear out more woods for lawn area. Right now we're fine with our patch of grass. It's perfect toddler size. However, the problem is that when the grass ends, there is quite a steep slope into the woods. There is mulch, which is slippery, and then rocks and such. Let's just say you wouldn't want to slip and slide down the hill, let alone a toddler.

Every day they look at me, laugh and then run for the edge. They wait for me to come and grab them and I put them in time out (put them inside for two minutes). The problem is that while I am bringing one to time out inside, the other is copying her sister and running for the woods. They cry and complain and when they come out I try and explain what happened and why. Usually I get a reprieve but shortly after they are back at the game. Then I usually give up.

We HEART Daddy

No Photos, Please

If you have twins, you know what I am talking about. Why is a stroller with two babies such a spectacle? I mean lots of people have two kids and they have double strollers. I guess it's more when I use the double snap n go because it is so long. People stop and stare like I have a litter of ten babies I am pushing around.

Not to mention the questions I get: one of each? two boys? Look lady, the car seats are exploding with pink flowers, they have pink pacifiers and pink blankets. Come on people! Then there are the people who like to take a peek. Like my babies are there on display for their enjoyment. I mean I know they are absolutely adorable and beautiful, and of course I don't mind people complimenting the girls, but it's when people feel like the have the right to reach in and almost touch the babies. Aside from the fact they are often sleeping in the stroller, I don't want your germie hands on them! Someone on my street reached in one day to re-plug my daughter's pacifier. That is just such a no-no.

I couldn't imagine having sextuplets or octupulets, let alone triplets. What on earth would that be like? You get your own TV show and lots of freebies I guess.

The best is when I go out with my friend who has twins as well. People just stop and stare at the six of us. Trust me, I am not complaining about having two babies. I wouldn't have it any other way. It's just other people seem so amazed, when in reality, it's so common. Special, but not as rare as one would think. According to Wikipedia, "only about three pairs of twins per 1,000 deliveries occur as a result of natural conception, while for IVF deliveries, there are nearly 21 pairs of twins for every 1,000." And in case you're wondering, ours were spontaneous (aka natural).