1. Don’t underestimate the power of Chuck E. Cheese’s to entertain the kids for 2 hours thus allowing you the opportunity to talk to your spouse with few interruptions.
2. 4:00pm on a rainy Saturday turns out to be the perfect time to go to Chuck E. Cheese’s. It’s between birthday parties and before the dinner crowd.
3. When your child wants to try to put the K’NEX windmill together by himself and insists he can follow the directions, let him try. He learns nothing from watching you do it for him whereas when he tries to do it himself, what he gains is much bigger than just a windmill.
4. When you go to the roller skating party, don’t be surprised by the number of times your kids fall down. Do be surprised when the one who is usually less physically coordinated, and more likely to get frustrated and give up, turns out to be the better skater.
5. When you lay down with your kids at night and one doesn’t fall asleep soon enough for you, don’t get frustrated and stomp out of the room. But, if you do, take a deep breath, take a sippy cup with water back into the room, give it to the still-awake child and ask him to scoot over. Wrap your arms around him while he sips and tell him how proud of him you are. You will never, ever regret the time you took to let him know how much he is loved.
Jack
January 7, 2008
January 1, 2008
Tom, being the adventurous one, wants to do some fun things this year. He wants to go whale watching and go up to the mountains so we can do some sledding with the boys. We also talked last night about signing the boys up for soccer or Tball this summer. They may need it more after they start school since I’m not sure how much physical education they’ll get. In any case, they’re ready for it this year.
Dean’s resolutions are: he wants to go to the new park a lot and he wants to collect leaves.
Jack’s resolutions are: he wants to collect rocks and crystals. So he can kill the bad guys.
Here’s to a New Year!
December 31, 2007
Random Bits
Posted by tagtwins under Dean, Family, Jack, Me | Tags: Dean, Family, Jack |Leave a Comment
When Jack rides on his scooter he peddles with his left foot and his right foot is on the scooter. Dean peddles with his right foot. It’s as automatic as the sunrise.
When dealing with a Lego kit, Jack wants to put it together exactly as directed. Dean claims he wants to help but really only wants to make off with little pieces to build his own thing. Once it’s done, Jack isn’t so interested in playing with it. For him, the entertainment is in the building. Dean wants to play with the completed project but will often take it apart and redesign it to fit his own vision.
As I have mentioned before, Jack loves to help me cook. Last evening, after I had chopped some fresh basil and fresh oregano Jack leaned down to smell the oregano and then got this beatific expression on his face, sighed and said, “mmmm, it’s minty”. I leaned down for a sniff and sure enough, it has a minty scent. Is it possible I have a budding chef on my hands? Oh, that would be amazing.
The other day Dean said to me, “I know how you can tell me and Jack apart. Jack’s eyes are like circles and mine are like almonds.” Really. Where does he get this stuff?
We had a babysitter last night so we could go to our friends’ house for a little after dinner party of appetizers and karaoke. I got forced into singing “Achy Breaky Heart” of all the ridiculous things. I love to sing but get embarrassed doing it in front of people I don’t know. It’s silly but I still care too much what other people think. It’s something else Jack and I have in common.
Dean has a remarkable singing voice, full of emotion and vibrato. I love listening to him sing but he gets self conscious if I ask him to sing and then he uses a baby voice or a silly voice. So, I just have to enjoy his singing when it comes naturally and make sure not to let him know I heard him. I vividly remember singing in the back seat when I was not much older than Dean – I’m sure it was loud and off key – and my dad turned the volume down suddenly and it was just my voice. I still remember how embarrassed I got. I don’t want Dean to feel like I’m trying to catch him or embarrass him. I just want him to sing. Not that I think my dad was trying to embarrass me – it’s just how I felt.
The boys are playing well together this morning. Finally. I love sitting here watching them with their heads bent toward each other, talking about how they’re going to play, what the game is. “And then, you pretend like you fell off the boat? And I’ll come to save you?” It’s so beautiful when it’s real.
December 19, 2007
Last night Jack came into the kitchen and offered to help me make dinner. As he scampered off to wash his hands, I thought about how he could help. When he returned, I told him he could slice the mushrooms. I cleaned them for him and he sliced them using one of these: 
When he was done, he asked what else could he do? I told him he could chop the onion and garlic using one of these:
Then, I handed him the cleaned green beans and showed him how to trim them. He trimmed the ends and snapped them in half (except for the long ones, he wanted them to stay long). While he did that Dean stirred the onions and garlic in the pan. And added salt. Pinch after pinch of salt. Until I realized what he was doing and moved the salt. I must have caught him in time because it was fine but I wonder how much salt he would have added if I hadn’t?
It was really nice having them help me. Jack asks a lot of questions “why do you pound the pork chops”, “why do you put the onions in”, “why do onions make you cry” but more amazingly, he remembers what I tell him. When Tom got home Jack told him what he helped with and explained that onions get really sweet when they cook for a long time. Dinner was delicious and we had great family time at the same time. By the way, my new favorite food is Israeli Couscous:
It’s creamy and delicious, especially when cooked in chicken broth.
December 13, 2007
I love to cook and recently I’ve been recording cooking shows to give me new ideas. One of my favorites is Everyday Italian with Giada DeLaurentiis. Sometimes Jack watches with me. If you don’t know who Giada is (where the heck have you been?), just google her.
Or – here’s a picture:
She’s pretty. Sometimes Daddy likes to watch with me, too.
Anyway, so the other night Tom was tucking the boys into bed and he later told me about the following conversation that he had with Jack:
Daddy: You’re so lucky to have such a nice mommy. She’s nice and pretty and she’s such a good cook.
Jack: Well, she’s not the best cook in the whole world.
Daddy: Well, maybe not the best in the whole world but she’s right up there.
Jack: She’s not as good as cooker girl.
It’s true, you know. I’m not as good as cooker girl.
November 27, 2007
I found this in Jack’s cubby at school. It’s from a girl who went on to kindergarten this year and this was her parting note. It is written on a postcard from The Metropolitan Museum of Art and the picture is “Apples and Grapes” by Claude Monet.
Jack -
I will remember you forever and I will miss you. I love you Jack. Thank you for everyday for holding the swing. You’re the best buddy ever. I hope one day I can have a play date with you. If not I will still love you forever.
T—
November 8, 2007
What’s your favorite movie?
I don’t know. (later, when I asked Dean and he answered “Dumbo”, Jack answered that it was his favorite, too)
What’s your favorite color?
All of them.
What’s your favorite TV show?
Spongebob.
What is your favorite food?
Mashed potatoes. And yogurt. But not mixed up.
What do you want to be when you grow up?
A superhero.
Follow up question: Which superhero?
Shooting Star Power Man.
What’s your favorite book?
Little Bear
What’s your favorite treat?
Cake with icing but not the stuff under it, just the icing.
Who is your best friend?
Mommy. (kissing up for sure!)
October 29, 2007
It was just the other night that I sat at the side of their bed and marveled at their size. Two boys who used to share a crib with lots of space to share, now sleep in a queen size bed with legs outstretched, just a foot or so from the end of the bed. Sometimes they split the bed horizontally with Dean stretched out across the head of the bed, laying across all pillows and Jack will sprawl at the foot of the bed. Other nights they share their bed like a married couple, legs intertwined, faces tilted toward each other. Some nights they spoon, the one on the outside with his arms wrapped around the other.
It was just Thursday night that I sat looking at my boys. Tom came in and wondered what I was doing. They’re not babies anymore, I said.
Friday night Jack was running a fever. His breathing wasn’t normal. Jack breathes silently, with little movement. I decided to sleep with him, in case he needed me. A short time after I laid down with him, he woke up coughing, scared. He sounded like a wounded seal. We’ve been through this before, he and I. I gathered him in my arms and carried him to the bathroom. Soon, the bathroom is steamy and I’m holding him, rocking back and forth, memories of this dance running through my mind. In times past I would take him outside and lay on the chaise, letting the cool night air soothe his lungs, whispering to him what he was like as a baby to soothe his mind. This option was unavailable to us because of the fires of the previous week. There was still too much smoke in the air. One of the reasons he was having this cough in the first place, I believe. After 30 minutes in the steamy bathroom, we went back to bed. His breathing was better, still not great. We fell asleep. I dreamt that I was being chased.
Two hours later he woke again, coughing, sounding worse than before. Mommy! His voice sounded cracked, hoarse. Again, we headed to the bathroom. This time I contemplated taking him outside. Maybe the air wasn’t as bad as I thought? I didn’t want to risk it. We stayed in the steamy bathroom for another 30 minutes but his breathing wasn’t much better. I tried settling into the recliner thinking maybe if we were propped up he’d be able to breathe. It didn’t help. I knew there was a bottle of prednisone (steroids) in the fridge. I’ve been cautioned by the doctor to not give it to him unless he’s wheezing. I’m holding him in my arms, he’s hot and he’s wheezing. I lay him on the couch and go to the kitchen. Carefully, I read the instructions, afraid in my sleep deprived state I’m going to give him too much. I gave him the prednisone and tylenol for his fever. I pulled him into me, he rested his head against my chest.
So many nights we spent on the couch when they were babies, sleeping on our chests.
We fell asleep on the couch.
Today? He’s all better.
