Testing 1, 2, 3... (Summer in Review)

Testing, Testing...
Testing, Testing 1, 2...
Testing, Testing 1, 2, 3...

4, 5, 6. 7. 8. 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17......................

Ahhhh, what a summer. There has been more testing going on around here than at a public school during the month of April. This summer at home with my newly turned 3 year old boys was a challenging one for me. I spent my days feeling much more like a referee than a mom. The constant bickering with each other "He took that away from meeeeeeeee," fighting over toys "But, Ieeeeeee had that firrrrrrrrrst," and some good old fashioned tantrums after screaming for what they wanted didn't end up getting them their way.

This is hard for me to write, but I am tired of trying to encourage healthy breakfasts when all they want is ice cream and will remind me so for almost 2 hours. I am tired of constantly searching the house for their "little blue tow truck" when it is no where to be found and we need to get out the door. I am tired of trying to figure out that what they meant by "little blue tow truck" actually meant "drag racer with flames," and that is why I couldn't find what they wanted. I'm tired of trying to get them to actually sit at the table for meals instead of twisting themselves up in our curtains, ketchup face and all, as they decide lunch is the perfect time to play hide and go seek with each other.

I know all of these things are totally normal behavior for 3 year olds, it is just so mentally exhausting dealing with it day in and day out with not one child, but two.

CAN'T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG??!!

Out of all of the stages with our twins, I truly think this one has been the most difficult for me. Time-outs don't work, negotiating doesn't work...I'm obviously still trying to figure out what does work to get 3 year olds to listen. I lay in bed at night wondering what I could have done differently and try not to feel like such a failure. 3 just hasn't looked good on me as a mom.

The good news is that, to most of you, my boys will look like happy, well-adjusted little people. Because when they are happy and getting along with each other, it is a beautiful thing. I try to record their little conversations with each other in my head, and remember the way they hold hands with each other (without being asked to) in parking lots or just randomly throw their arms around each other for a hug. They way they call each other "Buddy" and the way they constantly ask about each other when they are apart. It can truly be just so, so sweet.

So, as I pack my school bag tonight to head back to school tomorrow, it is always bittersweet for me. Despite all the struggles of managing 3 year old behavior, deep down I am so very thankful to have spent every waking second of my summer with my littles. I will never grow tired of their hugs, their requests to sit in my lap, hearing them say, "you look bootiful momma" out of the blue, or laying with them for hours as they try to take a nap or go to bed every night (okay...nevermind...that is getting really old).

Sooooo with that, I leave you with some of our happy moments from this summer....

Hello again, Scrambled Eggs!

We are very much rule followers over here. So when I read somewhere that you are supposed to wait until your child is 1 year old to feed them eggs for the first time, we did just that. My husband was anxious to share his love of a good, hearty eggs and bacon breakfast with our littles, so just after our boys turned 1, we cooked up a yummy breakfast and the boys devoured it.

But before I had even taken Aaron out of his high chair, or cleaned him up, I noticed that his face (and everywhere he had touched with his egg-y little fingers, including the top of his head) was covered in a bright, red rash.  I immediately sent Dan out for some Benadryl (and cursed myself for not having some on hand for quicker dosing) and hoped that this was just some sort of crazy one-time reaction to the food (we was kind of a rash-y baby anyways).

No one in my family had ever dealt with a food allergy before, so I knew nothing about them. But deep down, with the rash that was present, I knew that was probably what was going on.

I rushed Aaron to the pediatrician's office where they tested him for the 10 most common allergies, and the results came back as no surprise:

Aaron was allergic to eggs. (egg whites to be exact).

This was a really scary time for us. The excitement of introducing new foods to our babies was replaced with the constant monitoring of food labels and the constant wondering if what we were feeding our babies was going to cause another allergic reaction (and we had been warned that the 2nd reaction is usually much more severe). We received Emergency Action Plans and Special Diet Statements in addition to the weight of a brand new diagnosis.

Blood Test Results

So, I did what any new mom of an allergy kid does: I rid our entire house of eggs and all egg products. Overall, eggs was a pretty easy ingredient to eliminate, but it is more than just the eggs in the fridge. It's ranch salad dressing (bummer!), mayo, noodles, ice cream, and cookies and other baked goods (darn!), just to name a few. It is not like we were going out to eat a ton with having 1 year old twins, but the thought of eating at an actual restaurant, where I didn't know what had been touching the food that would be served to us scared the crap out of me, so we just didn't go out to eat. Ever.

I can honestly say that Aaron never came into contact with ANY egg for the entire next year. We made friends with the pharmacy where we stocked up on Epi Pen injectors and I placed them on every floor of our house,  and kept one in the diaper bag, the bike trailer, my purse, and of course at daycare. I made all of the boys' caregivers watch the Youtube video on EpiPens. I monitored the food on our table like a hawk.

I feel like some people thought that I was a little ridiculous and paranoid about the whole allergy situation. (People who have never dealt with a food allergy before, of course). But I was completely frightened of an allergic reaction...hello, we are talking the possibility of DEATH here.

Once the boys turned 2 years old, Aaron went back in for a blood test, and I was so excited when his blood test came back negative for egg. However, he ended up failing the scratch test at the allergist's office, so we weren't totally in the clear (although the allergist did give us the green light on bakery items with eggs that are fully cooked as an ingredient-like muffins, cookies, etc.) While I felt a slight bit of relief with this news, the allergy was always on my mind at mealtime.

2 years old, just beginning the scratch test (Saline, Histamine, Egg)

Playing at the Allergy Appointment, waiting for the results of the scratch test

2 years old, Egg "scratch" is showing a reaction after the 15 minute wait. 

Another year went by and the boys recently turned 3 years old, so I scheduled the scratch test again (the allergist said we could skip the blood test this time). We were excited when Aaron passed the scratch test. However, there was still one more step to being free of an allergy, and that was to do a "food challenge" where the food is slowly introduced back to the child.

3 years old, Yay! Another Allergy Appointment so we can play with all the doctors' stuff!

3 year old Scratch Test. You can see there is a reaction where the Histamine "scratch" is, but no reaction on the egg "scratch." Doctor Owen looks on to inspect.

So about 2 weeks ago, we went in for the food challenge. I think I was more nervous about having to entertain both boys by myself in a tiny doctor's office room for almost 4 hours!!! than having Aaron eat eggs for the first time in 2 years.

We had to bring in some yogurt that they mixed up with an egg white powder. Every 15 minutes the nurse would bring Aaron a "dose" of yogurt, increasing the amount served each time. They would check his heart rate and look for rashes.  I held my breath every time, but in the end, he had NO reaction, which brought the best news.

Aaron is no longer allergic to eggs!

3 years old "food challenge" day

3 years old "food challenge" day. Can you guys just please sit still and watch a movie instead of tearing apart the entire room?!

3 years old: Nurse Chou listening to Aaron's heartbeat in between bites of "egg" yogurt.

Listen to Aaron's take on the whole "food challenge" :)

And then we had kids...

When my husband and I first met, it was a head-over-heels romance that I had previously only dreamed of in my wildest dreams. It was the kind of love that I could tell made on-lookers want to puke in their mouths a little bit. We were ga-ga for each other. Our pastor who helped us prepare for our wedding told us that we scored the highest score of any couple he had worked with in his 20 years of ministry on the compatibility test that we had to take prior to our wedding. We were so happy and things were just so perfect; I am not exaggerating.

It was the kind of thing where I would follow along like a puppy dog while my husband went to the Home Depot and I hate shopping at the Home Depot. He would come with me to Joann Fabrics, just because we wanted to be together every second of every day. I don't think we ever had a disagreement, let alone a full-fledged fight in any of our dating or early years of marriage.

And then we had kids.

We learned early on in our post-kids marriage that nothing good comes out of conversations that occur at 2am (or 3am, or 4am...) whilst trying to calm, feed, and diaper-change a crying-baby or two. Our days of sitting on the couch staring into each other's eyes for hours on end were long gone. We learned to communicate with each other through shoulder shrugs and grunts and eye rolling because we were just so tired. ALL of the time.

Being first time parents to preemie twins has humbled our marriage. We are so NOT perfect. There are more days than I'd like to admit where I haven't been a very good wife. I have been short, I have been crabby. And despite some marriage advice we received in our wedding guest book, there are days when we have gone to bed upset with one another. I am not proud of those moments at all.

What I am proud of is that we have always, always managed to make things better when things aren't quite right. And our relationship always comes out stronger in the end. We are a work in progress. We have goals for ourselves and our family that we are constantly working towards; goals that keep us moving forward together as one.

In 5 years of marriage, I would be a liar if I said it has been easy. But I am not lying when I say things have become even better than they were before. Not only is this guy a fantastic husband, he is an amazing father. And there is nothing more precious seeing your man loving on your kids, not because he should, but because he wants to. He gets up before the crack of dawn to get into work so that he can be home with us as a family in the evenings. He puts up with my OCD ways of doing things and loves me for who I am (bless him!). He is my rock and my everything. And while things were much more simple before we had kids, I find that it is some of the hardships we have endured together that makes us come out a stronger team in the end.

Happy 5 years, and many, many more.

Snapped just after we got engaged, overlooking Lake Superior

Honeymoon in Cozumel

Just about melted when I looked out our kitchen window to see this scene.

First Day of Preschool.

Remember that time when your babies were babies and you looked at them and wondered if they would ever do anything other than eat and burp and poop and occasionally sleep? How it seemed like you would be changing diapers until they were teenagers and how you dreamed of sleeping through the night without any interruptions from your littles?

Yep. I remember.

But today, my babies went to preschool. Without me.

I had been debating whether or not to sign them up for preschool for a couple months. Since I am home with them in the summer, I didn't want to lose out on valuable time with them and honestly I worried that they would probably cry if I dropped them off at a new place.

But I signed them up. I tried my best to "prep" them for the new experience. We talked about how mommies and daddies do not go to preschool just little boys and girls. And that there would be really nice teachers there and that their names were Miss Joni and Miss Stephanie. And that if they had to go potty, they would have to ask their teacher. And yesterday, we walked up to their preschool to check the place out and see if maybe there would be a locker or a hook to put their new backpacks on.

There they were, right down at the end of the hallway, closest to their classroom. Two colorful little rainbows with the names "Owen" and "Aaron" written in marker on them, attached to the tiniest of lockers you have ever seen.

Gulp. I fought back my own tears as I excitedly pointed out their lockers and showed them how to open them. We tried to peek in the classroom and tried out the tiny toilets in the bathroom to give them that extra confidence they would need to do it on their own the next day.

Last night, I laid out their clothes and backpacks to be ready for their first day of preschool today.

They happily got dressed and ready to go (with a few minutes to spare for a few photos), and literally RAN towards their school, leaving me in the dust.

But as we got into the classroom, I could sense that the drop-off was not going to be easy, and I quickly tried to interest them in puzzles and trucks and stuffed animals. I knew I needed to make a quick exit and so I gave them hugs, reminded them that mommy would be back soon to pick them up, and turned and walked away to the sound of them crying.

It was not easy. I didn't look back. Miss Stephanie glanced at me as I walked out the door and said, "It's okay, they will do great."

And I pulled out of the parking lot wondering if I did the right thing. I felt bad for leaving them like that,but knew they would have fun once they were settled in.

I may or may not have returned to the school 45 minutes later to listen out in the hallway, to see if I could hear any crying.  I couldn't.

I may or may not have arrived 12 minutes early to pick them up, just in case they needed me.  They didn't.

And so, all of the parents waited outside in the hallway for their child's name to be called. I anxiously awaited my boys' names and out they ran with their papers and smiles. Smiles.

I was so proud.

Teacher Mommy, Summer Mommy

Today marked the last day of school and the end of my 12th year of teaching. As teachers, we think of years in terms of September through June with little landmarks along the way like MEA weekend, Winter Break, President's Day, etc. that help us gauge where we are at within the school year. 

I will be the first to admit that going back to work after having twins has been no easy task and there were many days where I struggled to hold everything together amongst the stress of life combined with the exhaustion that comes with raising very young children. How is it possible to be an amazing teacher while being an amazing mommy? While I am by no means an expert in this balancing act, this year has been, by far, the best year of work since the boys have been born.

A lot of factors contributed to this: an amazing daycare that we love and trust and is truly our boys' home away from home, and we have had much less sickness than years prior (read: less last-minute lesson plans, less missed days of work).

And well, things are just different than they were before--I'm not breastfeeding and sleep-deprived (well, not most days...Yes, we are STILL working on sleeping through the night), and I'm better about setting boundaries, and I have less guilt about following other passions of mine outside of being a mom.  

My boys are getting older and while they still follow me around the house like little ducklings, much to my dismay, they are needing me for less than they used to, which allows me the time to put my energy and thoughts into other areas and people in my life that have been neglected the past 3 years. 

So, cheers to a great school year! 

I'm looking forward to digging out my capris and tank tops and flip flops while I enjoy June-August spending time with my boys as Summer Mommy. 

<---Sept 2014















June 2015 -->

Three.

Lately I am reminded everywhere I go that my boys are not so small any more: Seeing them tower over the "little kids" at daycare, noticing their once way-too-long jeans that now look like flood water pants, and the fact that I haven't changed a single diaper since February. They started talking in full sentences just after they turned 2 and have not stopped since. This includes the recent double-whammy of both of them both asking "why?" over and over again at the same time, in response to any answer we give. We don't get stared at and chased down by strangers at Target anymore when they realize that yes, that is not only 1 baby but 2 babies in my shopping cart and the constant questioning: are they twins? Now, we fit in like regular folks going about our shopping.

Yesterday, I held a baby at the boys' birthday party and I had to ask, how old is he? I was thinking maybe 4 months? 10 months? Actually, I had no clue. Those baby days seem like forever ago. The Gerber Puffs, the spit up and burp rags. They are hazy, sleep-deprived days that I am thankful that I had the wherewithal to snap a few photos of, otherwise I might not believe anyone if they said my boys were ever once that size.

A couple weeks ago, Dan had a work event that went late, so I was home with the boys by myself. We had just finished up eating dinner when the boys wanted to play out in the backyard. I was about to join them, when I said, "I'll be right there, boys, I just need to finish washing the dishes." And Owen looks at me and says, "No I don't need you, Mommy."

Gulp.

I had never heard those words come from their mouths before. I don't need you. Part of me was like, yes, you do need me. The dishes can wait, I will come out there right now. But then of course I didn't do that, and so instead I just stood in my kitchen window and stared at them playing nicely out in the backyard, while the tears streamed down my face.

In this past year we have said the words "big boys" more times than I can count. We have big boy beds now. We have big boy underwear. Big boy cups. Big boy plates and spoons. Big boy chairs. They even use big boys swings now, too. When they do something for the first time we say, "you are such a big boy!" When we try to get them to do something they don't want to do (like go to bed), we say, "please do it like a big boy," and sometimes that does the trick. They look forward to the days when they are "a big boy" that they can do the things they can only dream of now (like taking pizza out of the oven, driving a car, or cutting fruit with a knife, to name a few).

But every once in awhile, usually at bed time, as we round up their key-keys and pacis, I am reminded that they will always be my sweet little babies. On most nights, I still usually hear the words, "hold Mommy hand" (from Aaron when he wants to hold my hand as he falls asleep in his bed), and "I want Mommy lay by me" (from Owen who is the best little snuggler around).

So, babies, big boys, little boys...whatever you would like to call them; Happy Birthday to the two most precious miracles that every happened to me! I am so happy to call them mine.

Here is their 3rd birthday video with highlights from the last year: