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Meera is on the mend, the antibiotics have done their job, and she’s starting to act like herself again. (She also has an appointment with an ENT coming up soon… I think we’re on our way to ear tubes.) For the past week she has been so sick. Deep in the thick of it, Meera just wasn’t herself (of course). She was whiney, clingy, and pathetically needy. Every mother that has ever lived knows what I’m talking about: the sick toddler. It is a rare species for sure. But today Meera really started to go back to being more like herself. Silly, playful, independent, adoring of her brothers’ attention (not just mine), and incredibly giving of herself. Numerous times throughout the day, just out of nowhere, she stopped everything to kiss each of us and tell us that she loved us. That’s classic Meera. She also needed to be dressed up all day long— the more tiaras and necklaces and bags and whole-entire-outfit-changes the better. That’s classic Meera. And she demanded that her brothers include her in their play, made them hold her hand when they were out and about, and required them to tell her what a good job she did whenever she used her spoon correctly eating macaroni and cheese tonight. That’s classic Meera. This one – this Meera Grace of ours – is really something special. I don’t know how we got so lucky with her, but we did.

Last night was our second J-M First Friday. It was Owen’s turn with Mommy. It was a fantastic night!!!! To be honest, I have a terrible cold/flu right now and going out to dinner was just about the last thing I should have been doing. But Owen was so looking forward to being able to do this; it was such a huge deal to him; and for Owen in particular the follow-through when we say we’ll do things is extremely important… and so I forced myself to rally for the occasion (something that – for better or for worse – I’m really good at), and Owen would never have known that I was feeling like crapola or that I could not taste a single thing that entered my mouth. Anyhoo…

I had thought hard about where to take Owen for our special Mother-Son Dinner-Date. I had picked the perfect place for Kyle when it was his turn, and so the pressure was on to pick an equally perfect place for Owen for our big night out. The place we went wound up being more than perfectly perfect for Owen. We had dinner at The Melting Pot. Honestly, this is a place that I’d never go to for my own sake (it just isn’t my kind of thing), and it really wouldn’t be the right choice for anyone in our family other than Owen. But for Owen??? PERFECT beyond perfect in every possible way. He loved that it was “fancy”; he loved that he was the only kid in the place; he loved that it was so different than any restaurant he’d ever imagined; he loved that there was a real working stove right in the center of our table; he loved dipping and stirring and cooking his own food; he loved experimenting with every one of the sauces and spices and condiments; he loved it all. It was really the perfect place for him. Most of all, though, he truly loved having his mommy all to himself. He just soaked it all up. At times he was bouncing up and down in his seat—so incredibly thrilled about the whole entire experience that he could barely contain himself. At other times he was practically in my lap, could not keep his hands off of me, just all over me with cuddles and hand-holding and lovey-dovey-ness (way more PDA than I’ve ever exhibited on any date in my entire life prior to that one!!!)… and he suggested that we sit next to each other on the same side of the booth (instead of across from each other), which we did, and which was something else I’ve never done on any other date or anything else in my entire life (sitting side-by-side, cuddling, in a booth). It was just a really fabulous First Friday #2.

A few things I want to remember— As we were getting ready to go out, Owen expressed to me that he wanted me to “dress up just like you do when you go on a date with Papi” (too cute); I did “dress up” and Owen was so thrilled with it; he then proceeded to go find his watch and his necklace that he got in Anguilla so that he could be “fancy” too (just too cute). When the server first came to the table to ask if we wanted a drink, Owen very confidently looked her in the eye and said, “Do you have pina coladas?” She said yes, and he proceeded to order a pina colada – which he loved. When the first pot of fondue came – cheese fondue, I think Owen began to fully realize what the whole night was going to be about, and the look on his face was priceless… there was a big pot of melted cheesy goodness with all sorts of things for him to spear with metal spears and dip in. It was a really great feeling to know that he totally ‘got it’ – that I had hand-picked this place especially for him. There is something really special about feeling so special for a night. I loved being able to give that to Owen last night. And it was last night that Owen tried duck for the first time. It was one of many things that we cooked for our entree fondue (along with shrimp, beef, pork, chicken, pot stickers, and a whole assortment of vegetables). Owen is such an adventurous eater and I love that about him. He did not like the duck too much but it was a big deal to him to be eating “a poor little ducky quack quack.” I must say that that has always sort of been my own reaction to eating duck too. The highlight was, of course, the chocolate fondue for dessert. Owen thought he had died and gone to heaven. The whole experience lasted a solid 2.5 hours and Owen soaked up every minute of it. So did I.

Like everyone else, we have our rough spots. Nothing earth shattering or life altering (thank God), but rough spots nonetheless. Times during which we struggle to keep it all together. We are in one now.

Meera’s been sick for the past week. Like, home-from-daycare, double-ear-infections, on-antibiotics-again, fussy, clingy, glued to my hip, and cranky cranky cranky sick. Of course, she’s been drooling, coughing, sneezing, slobbering, sleeping and breathing all over me for five days straight. So now I’m sick too. Of course. Like, can-barely-drag-myself-out-of-bed, can-barely-function sick. Kyle and Owen are all out of synch with trying to get back into some semblance of a normal routine— after a week in Anguilla, and then a week of school break, they are now flailing about as they desperately (and not so gracefully) attempt to get back into the swing of the daily grind again. Owen is in a bad phase – back to what he’s always done when he’s in a bad phase: his typical acting up (big time) at bed time (ugh) drama (oh dear Lord when will this ever end with him? we’ve been battling this boy at bedtime in spurts and phases throughout his entiiiiiiiiiiire liiiiiiiiiiiiife). Kyle is doing the best of us all (the angel that he is), but he is never-ending with his obsessions and fixations that – inevitably – begin to drive the rest of us nuts (right now it is yahts and cruise ships that he’s obsessed with; ever since we saw some when we were in Anguilla; and we’re all just about done with his ceaseless and incessant questioning and commentary on all things yahts/ships; seriously, it sounds cute, but in real life it really isn’t). Braydon is as consumed as ever with his work (I’ll just leave it at that; read between the lines). I’m overwhelmed with it all.

We’re ready to play outside but it still isn’t quite fully spring yet. We’ve got the final push of the school year just looming right out there in front of us (always a tough time of year for our family—probably the toughest). The laundry is not getting done. The house is a wreck. Meals are catch as catch can. Things (like, the blog, for one) are falling through the cracks left and right. We’re all agitated and aggravated and edgy. The glass looks half empty. We’re barely holding it together.

These are the times when it is especially difficult to be a dual-career, on-our-own (i.e., no family anywhere within a reasonable distance whatsoever), nanny-less family. We have no back-up or Plan B. We’re flying solo and it isn’t easy. On a good day we keep all the balls in the air and the whole thing is somehow held together. On a bad day some balls drop.

A rough spot = a string of bad days.

This post is, in part, an explanation for why I haven’t been blogging these past several days. It is also, in part, a record of a rough spot. Because I want to remember these rough spots as well as all the great spells. And if my bambinos ever read this one day, I want them to know straight from me in the here and now–

My babies, Your mama almost fell apart sometimes. It is messy. It is real. We try to do our very best, but we sometimes falter. Rough spots are hard. Please forgive me and your Papi for our impatience, our weakness, and our often-not-so-stellar parenting. I hope very much that whatever damages we’re causing are minimized by the joyful life that we work hard to create during all the great spells in between the rough spots. More than anything I love you. And I want for you a full and enchanted childhood in which you knew you were loved oh so deeply. Sorry for the yucky stuff. Love, your adoring and imperfect mother.

This YouTube video made Braydon and I laugh so hard this week! If the twins in the video just looked a bit different this could seriously be a video of Kyle and Owen when they were babies. This is exactly what K & O did when they were that age. Exactly!!!!! When I first heard Braydon watching it on his computer I actually thought he was watching an old video of K & O. They had the exact same “language of the da!” thing going on between the two of them and they’d go on and on and on in very animated conversation with the “da! da da da da! da! da!” I wish we had the blog then so that we would have recorded more of it. So funny!

click — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JmA2ClUvUY&feature=player_embedded

Today we celebrated Holi with Shalinee, Dave, Kavya, and Alex. It was a happy happy Holi!!! We did colors at their house – rangoli rice-water painting on their front door step; henna on our hands (done by Shalinee!); and we all “played holi” with wet and dry color on our faces and bodies (some of us got a bit carried away with it… mainly Meera… who would probably be very happy celebrating Holi every day!). It was a day that I had been looking forward to for a long time, and it was more fun than I had even imagined. I hope this is the first of many a Holi that we can share with them!

…I’m slowly making my way through the 900+ photos that we took in Anguilla! Travel Post to come ASAP…

Anguilla!!! With MorMor, MorFar, Sadie, Auntie Stina, and Uncle Mark! Great big Travel Post soon to come!

We’re taking a 10 day blog break and will be back to blogging March 19. Thanks for reading – y’all are the best blog readers in the whole wide world!

Segovia would roll over in his grave, Katy Perry would be proud;

Michael Jordan would give a thumbs up;

Cinderella wink.

My apologies, I did nothing from an editing standpoint, it’s totally raw.

When I was pregnant and found out I was having a girl I was ecstatic. My whole life I had always imagined myself having boys—but with two of them already, I was thrilled to add a girl to the mix. I had (and have) lots of hopes for an incredible, life-long, mother-daughter bond, but unlike many mothers I know, I never imagined mother-daughter-time spent playing dress-up, or talking about make-up, or getting pedicures together. That is just not my thing and never has been. As a child I was never very “girlie,” never read or saw any of the princess books/movies (let alone dressed up like one!), and never played with dolls. I don’t remember ever wearing a tutu, I know I steered clear of anything pink, and I didn’t have a professional pedicure until I was well into my twenties. I recently asked my parents what they remember me doing with my time as a young girl. They said that I spent most of my time outside playing in my treehouse. That is exactly in-line with my memory of my childhood too.

In the months leading up to Meera’s birth, fully expecting that I’d be having a “tomboy” of a girl, I carefully stored away box upon box of Kyle and Owen’s old clothes. I loved the idea of dressing our little girl in her big brothers’ hand-me-downs. And to be honest, there is nothing that I think is cuter than a little girl in well-worn overalls.

It wasn’t long after Meera’s arrival that I began to realize that I did not have the tomboy that I had imagined I would. Meera was probably about ten months old when she began making it clear what she wanted to wear. She’d point to certain shoes in her drawer, or specific dresses in her closet, and with all of her might she’d let her preferences be known. These early dressing demands came as such a shock to me (especially since Kyle and Owen still, to this day, barely show any preference for anything in regards to clothes and shoes), that, stunned, I immediately started to basically give in to her every whim. Never did I actually think it would stick for the long haul… and of course nothing is set in stone where kids are concerned… but Meera is now a 2-year-old going on 12-year-old with a mind of her own and a strong sense of her own tastes and preferences especially where clothes-fashion-style is concerned. Her tastes and preferences can easily be described in two words: “Girlie Girl.” 

Anyone who knows Meera knows that she is quite the “Girlie Girl,” and despite any efforts I’ve made, she basically rules the roost where her clothes-shoes-jewelry-and-all-accessories are concerned. At this point my strategy is to basically let it be – without pushing it or encouraging it all too much, but also without making a big huge deal out of any of it either. I’m attempting to do a gentle dance with her in the Girlie-Girl culture of pink-frilly-princess-etc. that she so embraces.

Today, for better or for worse, I took Meera for her first professional pedicure. I get a pedicure about 3-4 times a year, I was going to get one today, I knew Meera would love it, and so I decided to bring her with me. It was probably – no kidding – one of the highlights of her life to date. I know my daughter, and let me assure you, she loved the nail salon. She chose pink polish – of course – and she enjoyed every single second of the entire experience. I must admit, it was – for me – probably my most favorite pedicure experience to-date. Like Meera, I enjoyed every single second of the entire experience. On the drive home I kept looking at her in the rearview mirror. She was happily looking out the window and chit-chatting-away to me about fairies and princesses and “pink finger polish at salon!” All I could think was how grateful I am for having my girl in my world, how much she has already changed me, and “what on earth would I ever do without her?”

Everyone who has read any of the books on parenting twins knows that designating devoted one-on-one time to each twin in the pair is strongly recommended. Before Kyle and Owen came home – when we were reading everything we could get our hands on related to the subject of raising twins – we had grand plans for all of the ways that we’d spend time alone with each kid. Of course, once they came home reality set in, and, for all sorts of reasons, we ended up basically ditching every grand plan we had ever made to spend time alone with them. Over the past six years we’ve gone through phases of really being determined to make “alone time” happen. When we have succeeded, even in the smallest of ways, we have all greatly appreciated it. But then we always lapse back into getting lazy about it again. There are lots of reasons for this, but I’d say that the biggest reason is that the obvious time that we’d be able to devote to one-on-one time is the weekends— and after a long week of work and school and childcare, by the time the weekend comes, Braydon and I want nothing to do with separating our family, and we want only to be all together.

Lately though, we’ve been really talking a lot about how badly we’re missing the boat on any “alone time” with our twins. Meera gets plenty of one-on-one time, but the boys don’t. And we know deep down inside that this isn’t right. And so, after a lot of thinking, we’ve come up with a plan that we believe will really work long-term as a way to devote at least a little bit of designated one-on-one time for each of our kids.

Our new big ‘thing’ is Our Family First Friday: the first Friday of each month one parent and one child will go out to dinner while the other parent stays home with the other two kids. Each month we’ll rotate, so that over the course of the year each child will go out with each parent twice. Last night we started it. I was worried that it wouldn’t work exactly as we were hoping it would, or that it just wouldn’t feel like it was actually worth it. But, as it turned out, it was an over-the-top roaring success. And we’re about as confident as we ever could be that this is really going to stick this time.

Last night for our first First Friday, Kyle and I went out to dinner in Doylestown at one of my favorite restaurants, Domani Star. It is a really nice, tiny, all-from-scratch, excellent food, Italian restaurant that is family-friendly-enough but also very nice. Kyle thought he had died and gone to heaven. Not only did he have an amazing meal, but he got his mommy all to himself, and was treated like royalty by the wait-staff. He ordered ginger ale to drink, and then ate an entire basket of homemade bread dipped in olive oil. Next came one of the best Caesar salads on earth, a plate of gorgeous hand-made raviolis with marinara sauce, and then a scoop of pumpkin gelato for dessert. All of his favorites, all in one meal. We had great conversation and both enjoyed every minute of it. The photo at the top was taken with my phone while Kyle ate his dessert. It is a terrible photo, obviously, but I think you can see in Kyle’s eyes his contentment. Afterwards we went to Gap Kids and Kyle got to pick out some new spring clothes. He’d never been shopping alone with me, and it was such a treat (for both him and me).

We got home to find a very happy Owen and a very happy Papi (Meera had been put to bed long before). Everyone was in a good, good place, all filled up from that precious treat of alone time. We all vowed that this time we’re going to really stick to it and make this happen for the long haul.

Meera and I had to run some errands this morning. We had a long list and I was rushing her from one place to the next. Our last stop was the grocery store. Toward the end of our shopping Meera found a special shelf of spring lawn-ornament-type-things, and was absolutely smitten with them. I had to force myself to slow down my rushed pace, but I very deliberately did – and I just let her play while I stood there in the aisle with her a few feet away. She carefully took them all off the shelf, delighting in each one, and lined them all up on the floor just so. Her ‘line-up’ was almost totally blocking the aisle, and most of the people who walked by (especially the seniors, of which there were several) just got such a kick out of watching her. Despite so many looks, grins, chuckles, and sweet comments from people, Meera was in her own little world, totally oblivious that anyone even noticed her. Finally, after about 15 minutes, I told her that we had to go. The only way I could lure her away was with the promise that I’d buy her a donut.