The Ninth First Birthday

Ada turned one a couple of weeks ago. Traditionally, for our children's first birthdays, we try to guess how much of their actual party they will be awake for. One-year olds can only take so much excitement, and typically that's the dessert and the candle and one present. And then naptime beckons.

Naptime beckoned early for her, helped immensely by the fact that we traveled four hours the day before (and late into the night) to party with extended family.

We sang our Family Birthday Song: "It's my party; I can cry if I want to..."

But pie helped some with that. (We are overwhelmingly pie people. Occasionally a child will request an ice-cream cake, but we always have leftovers that get thrown out weeks later. There is never any pie left.)

Ada requested rhubarb pie. Her elocution is quite advanced.

Then came time for the presents. There were two on her actual birthday: one from Grandma Allison and one from us.

But first, manners dictate that she open Grandma's card...

... and take the time to truly read it.

But what's this? Is that gift for moi?

A pot! A singing, talking pot!!! How did you know, Grandma? How did you know that this is what my mother needed to be constantly played with in her kitchen? You always find the BEST presents!!!

Oh, Mama. Do I have to open another? I am overwhelmed by the first! I just really want to finish your pie.

WAIT!!!! That looks like a BABY!!!! I need that BABY!!!!

Oh, BABY BABY BABY BABY BABY!!!!!!

Gimmee that Baby. Hurry. Hurry.

And then we cleaned them both up and sent them straight to bed.

Ada is a wonderful baby. We're quite sure that she may possibly be the silliest one we've had yet. She can walk, although it's a highly guarded secret that she will not willingly share. She loves to do these baby hyperventilations where she coos, "Oooh, ooh, ooooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh" in a desperate, frantic way whenever a baby or puppy (or Mama's coffee) is around. She greets Ethan every morning and every evening with a cheerful, happy "Hi! HI! HI!!!"

We're so glad she's here. And now she's one, and now she's a toddler (only don't tell her I said so), and our family is better and happier because of her.

...And Many More...

I do believe I may have waxed, eloquently or otherwise, about Two being a better age than One.


I should know better.


I guess, like birth pains, the pain of having twin two-year olds is easily forgotten.


I just don't know how.


February 2nd was Groundhog Day. I guess. In our house, that little fact is totally eclipsed by a certain second set of twins having a birthday.

We grilled. We baked. We partied. I fought my usual losing battle with my camera, trying to take indoor pictures at night. We congratulated ourselves for moving them over into the big boys' and big girls' rooms (and out of cribs) successfully before their second birthday. 


And a few days later, I was calling my mother trying to sell them off.


It all started when Jonathan flushed a stink bug down the toilet. The next thing I knew, Gideon and Salem were finding flies and other insect carcasses under baseboard heaters and heavy furniture and wedged in window casings. Their subsequent multitudinous flushings necessitated my leaving the kitchen to fix the toilet.


I should have remembered this chain of events from when Abraham and Miriam were 2. Fix one mess, return to place of origin to discover new mess.


When I returned to the kitchen, I found Gideon and Salem had peeled the labels off the tomato cans. Gideon had his cup stuck in the automatic water dispenser on the front of the fridge (so water was constantly running in a so-fun fountain onto the unfinished wood floor), and Salem had the top off the vinegar bottle.


My mother wouldn't take them.


In all honesty (and all of this has been honest), these two bring us constant laughter. Exasperated laughter, sometimes, but still.


Gideon has this shock of curly hair that I just love. It's funny, this wee bit of his Grandpa Allison that shows up in this house. He has expressive eyebrows and an uncanny sense of rhythm. Like King Saul, he's soothed by music. We're keeping our eyes out for some bongos for this one.


And Salem. Oh, Salem. I've never met a more condescending two-year old. She has the expressions and mannerisms of a forty-year old. Even Miriam wasn't this patronizing. And she loves to sing. She sings to The Head and the Heart, and Gideon dances and beats on the couch.


I am remembering all the other things that happen when you have (or when we have, at least) twin 2-yr. olds. The crayons and markers get thrown out or locked up (by the parents!). Any cups with drinks still in them are hastily poured down the owners' throats before they get discovered by those who have newly learned the joy of moving a chair to get things that are higher than they can normally reach. Toothbrushes are hidden. Silverware is regularly counted, and when it goes missing, floor vents are checked.


Nothing is safe.


Cue the "Jaws" music. And cue The Head and the Heart. I am lost in my mind, and I have no hope of recovery.

(There is a video embedded in this post. Email subscribers may have to click over.)

Birthday and Bats and Blah Blah Blah

So Jonathan turned two yesterday. Two! It seems like he's been two for a while now, and not much about him seemed much different than the day before. Although I am realizing that I will have to do some potty-training in the next few months, the thought of which surprisingly brings very little emotion. I remember dreading it with Benjamin, being amazed at how early I was doing it with Lily (she insisting on climbing on the potty and going - backwards - at 18 mos.), and laughing at how easy it was to do with Abraham and Miriam (appoint Ben and Lily as personal coaches and reward the pee-er AND the coach for success). I don't even remember doing it with Eden, but she is potty-trained, so I know it happened.




Anyway, Jonathan's two. His favorite thing to say right now is, "I DIDN'T" even when he did or when he was supposed to ... as in, "Jonathan, stay in bed." "I DIDN'T."

Or the time he came to the door of Ethan's study with brown and green marker all over his face and hands, looked at his hands, looked at us, and said, "I DIDN'T." The marks on his face begged to differ. Ethan held him up to a mirror, where he blanched, paused, and then reiterated, "I DIDN'T."

He's a silly little guy. He has a really advanced sense of humor (which means he thinks I'm funny) and rarely (read: never) takes me seriously. We enjoy hearing his chatter and spot-on mimicry of the other children. And he has this strange ant fascination. He will drop to the ground to watch an ant closely, and when I hear him crying only to find an ant biting his arm and then go to help remove the ant and squish it, I am rewarded by a, "No, Mama! Bad Mama! Bad Mama!"




In other news, we moved out of the large upper (air-conditioned) conference room because there was a conference last week, and we are now staying in a cabin. And I am so glad, because thirty to forty bats have decided to inhabit the Upper Room. Their numbers are diminishing, though, due to the combined efforts of Kenley the Caretaker, Ethan, and a Large Rat Snake. The last left a slimy pile of fur and bat wings surrounded in foam on the floor of the Upper Room. Ethan used this as an excuse to throw in an extra science lesson for the kids, and I used this as an excuse to GET THE REST OF OUR STUFF OUT OF THERE PRONTO HURRY UP AND SHAKE IT ALL HARD!!!

Ewwww.

And the last news is that we are working with a new lender who looks a little more promising. We've turned in the conditions they've requested, and we should know in the next few days whether they say go ... or no.

And that's all for tonight.

Guess Who's Five Today

Can this truly be? Two more five-year olds? I must confess, it does bring a bit of relief to be able to say we have six 5 and under and not six 4 and under.

Oh. But that also means two more to be starting reading this year (because they will not wait), and two more to drop naps for good (most likely), and two more to be counted in with the bigs and not the littles.

Dear me. Can I be this old?

I've posted about their birth before, but they continue along their same paths since birth: Abraham is calm and laidback and loves his food, and Miriam is fast and busy and knows what everyone should be doing all the time.

And we love them. Happy birthday, guys! I'm so glad you're in our family, and you're FIVE!