Lil' Miss Tolerant Chloe

Chloe, our rescue dog from the streets of Watts, is one amazing pooch. Not only is she a fabulous distraction for the kiddos ("Where's Chloe? Who wants to hug Chloe? Who can find Chloe? What does Chloe eat? Why is Chloe insert verb here?") and an efficient post-meal vacuum, she is also an exemplary model of tolerance. Maybe we could all learn a little something from Chloe?

Anders and Jorja find absolute joy in "dressing" Chloe.

Snow -- Part 3 When You Ain't Got a Sled

Presented with another day of snow, the little ones and I decided to travel the neighborhood via sled, ahem, wagon. Insert Winter 2009 Shopping List: sled, mittens, insulated boots, and a Winter Warmer Hip Flask. Jorja spent the majority of her time insisting her seat belt be removed, Anders spent all of his time insisting that the wagon keep moving faster and faster, and I huffed, puffed, deflected neighbors' "I bet you'd move faster if you took those wheels off" comments, and cursed myself for not wearing footwear with some semblance of traction.

Snow -- Part 2 With Mittens

This time around I managed to cover all twenty of the kiddo's fingers. While embarking on a "Let's Riffle through the Children's Closet" nightmare adventure, I found two sets of infant thumb-less mittens. I brought them out, slipped them on, and the kids happily pranced around the house (and later the yard) without the use of their thumbs. And in those thumb-less mitten-wearing moments, the fur-bearing animals of the household breathed a sigh of relief in knowing they were in the midst of a fur pulling hiatus.

Snow

Prior to throwing one of my potted plants onto the sofa, tossing my watch into the poopy diaper pail, and repeatedly hurling sippy cups at the dog, the kiddos spent a bit of time romping around in the snow. Jorja blazed around the snow with the confidence of a seasoned outdoors-woman, while Anders spent the first 10' thoroughly upset because the tips of his beloved alligator boots were covered in snow. Insert Gailyn here as she swoops in and teaches Anders how to stomp the snow off his boots. Armed with his newly acquired boot stomping abilities, Anders was able to navigate the snow knowing full well he could make his alligator boots "reappear" at any point in time.

Jorja zooms around the snow with ease.


Anders gripping Gailyn's fingers.


Anders and Gailyn post-boot stomping practice.


It seems that one of us isn't as prepared as EVERYONE else for the snow and freezing temperatures. A hat certainly would've been comfy.

There's Just Something About Rain Boots

Kickin' it in rain boots this afternoon despite the absence of rain.

The Santa Train

On Sunday morning, the morning after our return from our trek south for the holiday, we headed east to ride The Santa Train and meet Santa and all of his little helpers. The actual train rides to and from Santa and The Gang were awesome -- it was the waiting in line to board the train, the waiting in line to visit Santa and The Gang, the waiting in line to get hot cocoa and cookies, the waiting in line to use the restroom, and the waiting in line to re-board the train that made me question the age appropriateness of The Santa Train. Regardless of what you might be waiting in line for, it just isn't fun with 16 month old twins.

Anders beckoning us all to "Get A Move On!".


Jorja, fresh baked cookie in hand, checking out the trains.


Jorja, fresh baked cookie in mouth, feeling the queasiness of too many sweets.


Anders soaking in the views from the train.


Joe, our fantastic 6 year old friend, hanging with Anders.

The Dream Hairdo Captured

Ever since I was a little one, I've had this obsession with a particular short, disheveled hairdo -- something I refer to as The Dream Hairdo. The kind of hairdo that comes across as totally non-committal, like the individual with The Dream Hairdo simply rolls out of bed without so much as a glance in the mirror because they already know how perfect their hair is. Much to my dismay, I've never been able to capture this hairdo with my own locks...I always came out looking much too purposeful.

Well...Lil' Miss Jorja woke-up from her afternoon nap with The Dream Hairdo! (Pardon the sunshine beaming in the background and focus on The Hairdo.)

The Budget Conscious Momma

Most folks who see Anders and Jorja on a regular basis know that I tend to purchase oversized clothing for them. There's this frugal impulse that seems to take hold of me when I'm in the midst of buying them clothing. Questions begin to swirl around in my head. Does the temporary inconvenience of rolled-up sleeves and pant legs really warrant the purchase of a smaller, soon to be out-grown, size? Is the extra toe room in these new sneakers going to stunt the progress of this child's mobility? Is the largeness of this new parka going to inadvertently suffocate this child? Of course not.

And here they are blissfully frolicking around the yard in their oversized parkas and one and a half sizes too big sneakers.

Jorja and the Pregnant Lady

Our very pregnant (and very awesome) friend stopped by for a visit a few days ago. Her belly was a big hit with Jorja. She stared, pointed, touched, hugged, and climbed all over it. Meanwhile, I sat there wondering if all of Jorja's poking and prodding was going to send this friend of ours into labor.

As of today our very pregnant friend is still very pregnant.

Winter Parkas

Anders and Jorja received new winter parkas this past week. Despite their slightly inconvenient over sized fit, faux fur lined hood on one, lack of faux fur lined hood on the other, and much too easily snap-off hoods (the kiddos waste little time in ripping off each other's hoods) -- these parkas are a hit. If the parkas are even partially visible they MUST be put on -- unless you happen to revel in twin meltdown moments.

Sporting their winter parkas at Grandma Ruth's 70 degrees Fahrenheit house.

The Pumpkins in My Life

Here are the four we harvested at a local organic farm a few weeks ago:


Here are the two we harvested at a local hospital fifteen and a half months ago:

The Taxi

Anders spent the better part of today climbing all over our indoor-only umbrella stroller (i.e. The Taxi). We spent several months using The Taxi to transport one child around the house while the other child was carried. It became that extra set of hands that twin parents so often wish they had. However, now that A and J prefer to independently waddle and toddle their way around the house, The Taxi has been retired...until today when Anders turned it into his personal playground.

Comments

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Please feel obligated free to leave comments. Did a particular post inform you, invigorate you, irritate you, or send you to the Land of Slumber? Do you have advice to pass on, questions to ask, or questions to answer? I want to know. At the end of each post there is a COMMENTS link -- click it, write, and feel apart of the Hoot n' Howl Community.

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Hoot n' Howl

Cloth Diapering

I'm a cloth diapering Momma. Not only do I cloth diaper my kids, I also seek out every opportunity to talk about CD, spend countless hours surfing the web for CD tidbits, and ooh and aah over the abundance of CD supplies that are available. There are, of course, challenges with cloth diapering -- and diapering in general. There are the blow-outs, the semi-blow-outs, the laundry, the "I totally forgot to fill up the wipe warmer with new cloth wipes and now I'm faced with a child lying on the changing table stripped and soiled" episodes, the toting dirty diapers around while out and about, and so and so forth, but the one element of cloth diapering that I am COUNTING DOWN THE DAYS until it's over is the spraying of the soiled diapers. I have a diaper sprayer that's attached to our toilet plumbing. When the need arises, I head to the bathroom with the offending diaper, flip on the sprayer switch, and either spray the poop into the toilet or, as is mostly the case, spray the poop all over the bathroom. It's gotten easier to gauge the water pressure and adjust my aim, but these "all over the bathroom" situations still surface from time to time.

According to my mother and others of her generation, folks "back in the day" simply dunked the soiled diapers in the toilet. Maybe there's something to be said for steering clear of additional gadgets...

The BEST Baby Purchase

Aside from the basic baby necessities, our jogging stroller is by far the most used and appreciated baby item in stock. Having a difficult morning? An exhausting afternoon? Yielding to unrelenting toddlers and letting them play with electrical cords and outlets? Reaching for a beer but it's only noon?

What's a Momma to do?

Head to the garage living room where the jogger's parked, secure the kiddos in their five-point harnessed seats, leash Chloe up, exit the front door, walk or jog or gallop or skip or whatever your way around the neighborhood, and return home a refreshed human being.

Loving the jogger THEN:


Loving the jogger NOW:

63 Inches and 47 Pounds 4 Ounces

Anders and Jorja went in for their 15 month well-child appointments this morning. Combining their heights and weights, we've got 63 inches and 47 lbs 4 oz of toddler zooming around. Everything went accordingly, but apparently we're not suppose to allow A and J to eat while "on the run". I enthusiastically nodded in agreement, but does that mean I need to stop leaving assorted bowls of Cheerios and/or Cheddar Bunnies and/or Animal Crackers and/or Ritalin around the house for them to snack on at their leisure?

Here's Lil' Miss Jorja "I'm a solid inch taller than my twin brother" Ruth toddling around wearing my hat that's 32 inches from the ground.

We Can't All Look at the Camera at the Same Time

On Sunday Gailyn, the kiddos, and I went for a wagon ride around the neighborhood. We stopped by the elementary school to let Anders and Jorja practice climbing concrete stairs -- and to snap a few pictures. Pardon Gailyn's photo absence -- she refused to relinquish the camera to A, J, or me.

Cooking

I am not an intuitive cook. I certainly try, but when I attempt to freestyle it, I generally end up with an overflowing compost bin. But in the last few months the ever-increasing appetites of Anders and Jorja and the arrival of my weekly Community Supported Agriculture organic produce box have begun to overwhelm inspire me. When faced with two toddlers who eat five meals a day with seemingly nonstop snacks in between, a partner who comes home from work late in the evening ready to eat, and an overflowing box of fruit and vegetables, it's obvious what one needs to do -- figure out how to utilize the abundance of produce and cook something that your family will consume. And to some extent, I have done just that. I might not cook from scratch every night, but I've managed to incorporate arugula, beets, cabbage, fennel bulb, kale, leeks, purple potatoes, radicchio, radishes, rainbow chard, rutabaga, and tomatillos into our diets without too much complaint.



This is Jorja during a not-from-scratch macaroni and cheese dinner.

The 25 Minute Napper and The 150 Minute Napper

Anders and Jorja are down to one nap a day. This nap generally begins at 1pm. One child naps for twenty-five minutes, while the other snoozes away for two to three hours. I'm okay with both the twenty-five minute nap and the two to three hour one, what I struggle with is the ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE minutes of tip toeing and whispering around the house with the short napper while the long napper naps. Curbing the short napper's vocal range, throwing, and banging showcases is a nightmare challenge. But given that both Anders and Jorja go to sleep at 6:30PM, I really have no reason to complain. There is something absolutely revitalizing about having one's evenings to oneself.

Who do you suppose the short napper is?



There's the short napper reading truck books rather than napping.

Momma's Hat, My Hat

Anders and Jorja are absolutely enthralled with whatever Gailyn and I happen to be wearing, or eating, or drinking, or talking to, or looking at, or, or, or. At dinner this evening I was wearing a hat. Neither Anders nor Jorja was able to commence dinner without first trying it on.

Bedtime Routine

Anders and Jorja's going to bed routine follows the same basic framework night after night -- with a few exceptions on the weekends when Gailyn is home. We move from the playroom into the bedroom in flights (i.e. me and one of the kiddos followed by me and the other kiddo), they're stripped naked and left to wander around, their bath is drawn, they bath, we move into their bedroom, they're diapered, dressed, and ready for a book and songs.

Or at least they used to be.

Anders -- bless his predictable, momma dependent self -- continues to embrace the routine. Jorja has revamped it. In the pitch dark, while Anders and I sing "Barges" and "Sweetest Little Baby" and rock gently in the glider, Jorja shuffles around the bedroom doing I have NO IDEA what because visibility is severely lacking IN THE PITCH DARK.