On game day, the primary purpose of a T-ball coach is to consistently corral a baker’s dozen of athletes all aged 4 to 5. Thirteen small peeps, all dressed exactly the same, all in constant motion, while allegedly learning a mental game of skill.
Throw a pair of twins into the mix, and an already frazzled coach will immediately devolve into complete chaos. Continue reading
The mercury stretched toward 90. We were planning beach trip to celebrate the second birthday of the pixie stix.
The boys were outside playing while I packed up our gear. Suddenly I heard an ear-piercing shriek calling my name. Search looked up at me, sidewalk chalk streaked across his face like war paint. Red ooze dripped down his arms like blood. Continue reading
Every so often life blesses you with a pithy comeback, perfectly timed. I enjoy those moments.
The boys and I stopped by Subway to grab a sandwich for dinner.
Subway Sandwich Artist: Are they natural? Continue reading
I thought my little angels were upstairs sleeping peacefully. And then I heard stirring through the monitor.
Destroy: RAWR
Search: Noooo. No rawr, Destroy. We need to sleep now, k?
Destroy: rawr.
Search: MOMMMEEEEEE!
Destroy: Argh!!! He bite me!!! Continue reading
Jon found me on the couch reading. “Wow. Are you reading a real book?”
And indeed I was. It was a paperback, not my standard digital iAppendage. A Pound of Hope – the story of miracle micropreemie twin boys by Jennifer Kemper Sinconis. Continue reading
The Pixi Stix are here! (I’ve mentioned the muppets’ future prom dates before.)
And tonight I went to visit them, cooing, “Let me meet my future daughters-in-law” to the consternation of their doting father.
They are tiny and perfect and I love them. Continue reading
Good news. I’ve secured the muppets dates to prom. It will be a twinsplosion of adorableness.
Remember the Lovelies? Back in February, Maureen announced was pregnant. And there were two. Twins! To reiterate: DOUBLE TROUBLE IS TAKING OVER Y’ALL!
Identical girls. (Destroy, aka Casanova, is *thrilled* – remember boys, only date girls whose daddy’s have less guns than yours.)
And then a week after we celebrated, I received the news about their 12-week ultrasound – that magical entry point into the second trimester when everything is supposed to be ok. It wasn’t. Continue reading
Clarity of thought.
That crisp, concise understanding that you know precisely what you’re doing. (Or at least what you should be doing.) I used to think I had that once…
Enter toddlers, stage right. Continue reading
Back when I was just a normal pregnant woman, waddling around with healthy gestating twins, Grandma Nancy nicknamed the future muppets Search and Destroy.
Prescient. Continue reading
