Wriggle, Wiggle, Squiggle and Squirm

Toys are haphazardly strewn about my living in room – they lay where they fell in the aftermath of Hurricane Muppet.

Both muppets are sitting on their own. They can’t get upright by themselves – but they look adorable when you prop them up. Logan isn’t as good at maintaining the posture. Caden will lean and catch himself. Logan? “Well, guess we’re going down now.” Thunk.

They’re far more interested in the continued discovery of each and every toy. The can reach out and drag objects toward them. (Deemed “advanced skills” on the milestone growth chart timeline.)

Caden spent the morning scootching his little legs up underneath himself and rocking back and forth on his knees. He is so close to crawling. He’ll scoot backwards a few inches, growing increasingly frustrated that the object of his current attention is seemingly moving farther and farther out of his reach. Then after several attempts, he lurched himself forward. He completely faceplanted – but hey, we’re making mobility progress here.

Logan’s big boy carseats arrived today. The UPS man rang the doorbell, surrounded by four giant Britax boxes. “Four, huh?” he deadpanned. (To be fair, we went ahead and ordered Caden’s at the same time.) Jon set about putting the seats together and we strapped the muppets into the land-yacht stroller – forward facing – for the first time. The muppets were giddy with glee. Freedom!

But I think we’ll prolong their childhood (in infant seats) a few weeks more; Logan has a good two pounds left…And Caden doesn’t quite fit. Although, it doesn’t appear he’s going anywhere in his seat; he gave a rousing Houdini effort, but stayed firmly ensconced in his seat.

Today the muppets are nine months old.

The same amount of time has passed in their young lives that they should have remained with me in utero. From two pounds to 20 – why dwell on the beginnings when we’ve come so far. Our days now involve the mundane dealings of infants growing up. (And rantings in the blogosphere from their slightly neurotic mother.)

The wiggles, squiggles, giggles and grins.

Happy Birthday Daddy

Happy birthday, Jon!

My husband always said he’d envisioned himself as a father by age 30. We didn’t have any children by his 30th birthday; he hits the ground running with double the trouble and double the grins – blessed with twins for age 31. Although, I don’t think our muppet story is quite how he pictured himself arriving at the point of “My Two Sons.”

To celebrate Jon’s arrival into his third decade, we did absolutely nothing. Zilch, zippo, squat, a big 0-fer. Normally, we at least go out to dinner as a family. This option was presented to me and I became a bit nauseous at just having the thought of a restaurant forced upon me. I suggested that perhaps he could go out alone. Instead we decided to have a laid back pizza party at our house. So I dressed myself up in my least offensive oversized sweats and perched at the kitchen table in what I hoped to be the most pleasant shade of green possible. My milestone gift? Not throwing up directly on him.

This year, I was determined to make up for last year’s giant fizzle. We’re all home, happy and healthy. If ever there was a year to celebrate! I conferred with my boys. Cooper and Scout readily agreed that for their father’s birthday surprise, they would refrain from eating poop for the day. (Gross, I know…whole separate blog post for that topic.) The muppets and I had a more difficult time coming up with the perfect “we love you Daddy” present.

Jon is not the easiest person in the world to shop for – especially when you’re searching for a “perfect” gift. Jon, himself, is a notorious fabulous gift-giver. Somehow, some way, he always manages to pick the perfect item to fit any occasion. (Granted, I would still argue not arfing on someone is a great gift for any occasion.)

Perhaps he would enjoy the new Xbox. I quizzed a few gamer friends about various consoles and platforms; they proved to be of no help at all. (What good are nerdy friends if they can’t provide video game support!) Ultimately, we decided upon the new Xbox Kinect. We’re parents now, so looking absolutely ridiculous as we bounce and flail around the living room using our bodies as the controller seems right in line with our current station in life.

Caden thoughtfully nodded his head at me. He agreed that the Kinect system would be a good idea. However, for the first birthday gift he was leaning toward a more traditional route. Dad has an affinity for all things “tactical.” So Caden followed suit with the video game theme, but chose to give Daddy “Call of Duty: Black Ops.” Jon opened the game, looked at Caden and said, “You look like a Black Ops kinda guy, little man.”

Logan had other ideas; he was going to do his own thing. We were all shocked when Logan smiled and proudly revealed his birthday gift.

His first tooth.

Logan now has the beginnings of one little tooth – one of his bottom incisors has officially cut. Jon and I are both in complete awe at how fast our little muppets are growing up. I know what you’re all thinking. Logan? But Caden is the one who’s been gumming his way through a minimum of three soggy drool bibs per day.

First to come home, despite so many medical proclamations, and now first with a tooth despite Caden having a significant jump on the teething process. I think Logan is still showing his competitive side a bit after being thwarted for firstborn.

For Jon’s 31st birthday, Logan got Dad his first tooth; Caden got him black ops. Edge to Logan, but just barely.

Rollin’ Rollin’ Rollin’

Time passes by in the blink of an eye. Today, our million dollar miracle muppets are six months old. Even though it seems like they just joined us yesterday, it’s already become difficult to imagine our lives without them.

And the muppets chose this milestone weekend to celebrate by becoming big boys. They’re rolling. (Jon called this one. When we returned home from our Thanksgiving excursion, we put the boys to bed and Jon looked at me and said, “They’ll roll over this weekend. They’re ready.”

On Friday (our first day home as a family in a long while), our happy family of four was hanging out in the living room. Jon and Caden were on the floor goofing off on the playmat for some tummy time. Suddenly Jon said, “Um, babe – you’re son just rolled over.” He had propped Caden up on his elbows and when Caden turned his head over, his little body flopped over onto his back. He was rather surprised.

The next morning, I put Logan down on his back so his brother could enjoy breakfast. When I looked up again, Logan was in a prone Superman position on his tummy – arms and legs flailing in the air. I definitely don’t think that move was purposeful. He appeared rather disconcerted with what had just happened.

This morning (again during Caden’s breakfast), I put Logan on his tummy in his crib. He can now easily lift his head to a 90 degree angle. He looked up, looked around and rolled right on over. When we got downstairs, I set him down on his back. He immediately rolled over to his side. Apparently, he’s figured out the idea of throwing his leg over for momentum. The only thing still thwarting him was the arm remaining under him.

I sat watching him. I could see him trying to problem solve. Finally, he figured it out. Oh kids…life just got infinitely more exciting.

He started squirming around – eventually turning in a full 360. When he had wiggled his way to face where I was sitting, he lifted up his head again. “Look what I did Mommy!” He was terribly pleased with himself. He squiggled a few more degrees and passed out.

Logan spent today rolling himself over at every opportunity presented to him. Both of our kids have been determined to get mobile from the moment they were born. Ready, set, go! And now that we’re rolling – catch me if you can…

Hard to believe it’s been half a year. 2010 (the whole year) has certainly been one for the record books. Happy six months Caden and Logan.

Dirty Thirty

Today, I am 30. It feels surprisingly similar to 29.

Whoever coined the term “dirty thirty” obviously had kids – my third decade is already filled with dirt, mud, spit-up and baby poop. And it has been an amazing birthday weekend. Because this is my first birthday as a mom.

The one thing I wanted most was for G.G. to meet the muppets. So the weekend began with an auspicious start. On Sunday, the muppets had a Welcome Home shower. How many kids are lucky enough to attend their own baby shower?

I was slightly nervous about what to wear; I haven’t had many opportunities to dress up in the past six months. And since the muppets arrived, my body has decided to rearrange its weight carriage so it’s always a fun surprise to see if an outfit will fit on any given morning. I chose a little black dress – seemed safe, can’t go wrong with that. The first dress fit on the first try. Success! I matched the dress with some fabulous patent leather peep-toe pumps and completed the outfit with the Tahitian pearls Jon got for me on our honeymoon. (Little things excite me these days.)

I strutted into the nursery to make the muppets even cuter. (I know, very hard to do.) I asked the boys what they wanted to wear. The selection process was based on which outfit elicited a smile and giggle. Caden picked out a pair of khaki pants with a very preppy sweater, and Logan chose a pair of plaid overalls. We were ready to go.

I felt good. Our last attempt at a baby shower didn’t go so well. I concluded that weekend on lockdown for my final hospital stint, before we began our adventure with preemies. But this weekend, I was healthy, but so much more importantly – the muppets are healthy. Even their cold from the previous week has completely cleared up.

I scooped up Logan and headed down the stairs. It was time to play the music, time to light the lights. Time to meet the muppets on the muppet show tonight. Caden and Logan were ready for their close-up.


No sooner did I hit the bottom step, then Logan arfed on me. Did you know baby arf is white? And have I mentioned I’d chosen to wear a black dress? Well that was no longer going to happen. Logan looked up at me and giggled, his outfit was still perfectly clean. I whirled around in my no longer applicable patent leather peep-toe pumps and headed back up the stairs to find outfit the second.

Once we (meaning I) had changed into a non-pukey outfit, the muppets, GrammaJ and G.G. loaded ourselves into the car and headed off to the shower. If I may take this moment to be uber shmoopy, I am really blessed to have so many wonderful friends and family who came out to a doubles-themed shower: Doublemint gum, Twix and a delicious menu with two options for every course.

Since GrammaJ and G.G. had to head back to the badlands early this morning, we decided to celebrate last night. G.G. suddenly exclaimed that she couldn’t find the gift she’d gotten me. She retraced her steps. Our black lab Scout chose that moment to slink out into the garage. Well, drat. Jon headed out after the dog, flashlight in hand, to attempt to locate whatever Scout had dragged out. We found half a bite of the card. It will certainly be an evening to remember.

My dog ate my birthday present.

I was sad to say goodbye to GrammaJ and G.G. this morning. It was a fast-paced entertaining weekend and I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday present than to see G.G. enjoy muppet smiles and twin giggles.

So today, I am 30. And tonight, I will spend a very chill birthday evening surrounded by my five boys. Pure bliss… Thirty’s going to be a good year.

Growing Up

Happy Birthday GrammaJ!

My mom was 28 when she had me. Now I’m 29 and she has two grandkids. It’s a whole new generation – and hopefully I’ll be able to do as good a job as she.

In celebration of GrammaJ’s birthday and growing up, little Logan has chosen today as the day he officially graduates into the next size up of clothing – 3-6 months. At only seven weeks adjusted, our muppet is in the proper size clothing for his actual age of four and a half months. On a slightly stinkier note, he has also demonstrated his need to move up to size 2 diapers.

In honor of the next generation, I thought we could all enjoy some Silicon Valley humor:

How Today’s Twins are Made

(Not the muppets)

May your next year be filled with double trouble, twins and the growing up on their end…