I suck

Ok, I really suck at this blogging thing.

I had fully intended to come and blog daily this month. I really, really did.

Then, I got sick yet again. And my uncle died. And the twins' turned one. Excuses, excuses.

It's been a particularly busy month for us and my head's in a perma fog, hence my lag of blogging.

The boys turned one on Saturday and I couldn't even blog about that!! For shame!!

Next week is looking to be just as busy as the past few have been, so hopefully I'll be able to start blogging regularly again.

What a Difference a Year Makes

So the boys are just about to turn one and I literally can't believe we got here. In many ways, it's been a blur, but overall, it's felt like the longest year of my life. I think I have aged about 10 years, something my newly visible grey hairs are a testament to.

The boys are doing great. They are still sleeping in my bedroom, but we have plans to get them sleeping in the nursery within the next month or so. We recently moved Sofia out of her crib into her big girl bed and *fingers crossed* she's been doing great with the transition. She's giving us a run for our money in every other area, but the bed we're good on. There isn't a blog long enough (and I know you don't have time to listen) to discuss how difficult our little tyrannical almost-3-year-old going-on-12-year-old has been lately, so I'll save that topic for another day.

The boys are 100% on table food, wanting nothing to do with purees. William continues to be a Level 5 Chow Hound and looks like David is going to be the finicky one (that's Steve's side). David prefers anything carb related, be that crackers, cheerios, bread, pasta, pancakes, etc. He spits out most vegetables (again, Steve's side) and is particularly fond of a new addition to his diet, goldfish crackers. William will literally eat anything you place in front of him and practically lick his fingers and the tray clean. And hey, if some kleenex or a napkin happens to make it into his hands, he'll eat that too.

William continues to be *passionate* about everything (that's probably my side) and David seems like he's going to be the analytical one (again, probably my side). You can see the little wheels turning in his head. They are both so different than Sofia in that they are all boy. I just put them down and let them loose and they're content to bang toys together, chase a ball or even play with puzzles. Oh yes, they are also quite drawn to playing with the VCR, which Steve just loves.

William continues to commando crawl, but has started traditional crawling as well. Him and David stand and cruise a bit and most likely will be taking some steps soon. They both say a lot of "ba-ba, ma-ma and da-da's" and sometimes, I think they are using them intentionally. They are overall happy, fun, easy babies who are a joy to be around. Looking back at the "pit of hell" that was last spring, I never thought I'd be saying that. I really, really didn't.

What a difference a year makes.

Due to the fact that we are all sick at the moment, we're going to celebrate in some small way for the boy's birthday. We'll have the big celebration in April when we have the 3 for the price of 1 Birthday party for all the kids (which I hope to see some of you at). On Saturday, we'll probably do a cupcake for each boy and singing, etc. I'll be sure to take lots of pictures.

Speaking of pictures, here are a few recent shots of the the dynamic duo.

Slice of Life - Day ? Freaky Wednesday

The scene - my Bathroom, this morning.

I was hastily putting on my makeup, which is the rule more than the exception these days. Sofia is perched on her trike in the hallway, curiously watching me.

"Is that makeup?"

"Yes, sweetie. It is," I replied.

"Can I wear makeup?" she inquired.

"No, little ones don't wear makeup. Just mommies."

She paused, then said. "Someday I'm gonna be a mommy and I'm gonna wear makeup."

I didn't have the time or energy to get into a discussion of whether or not she would be "into" makeup or how you don't have to actually be a mommy to wear makeup, her being barely 3 and all, so replied "Yes, sweetie, you will."

She then paused again. "Tomorrow you be Sofia and I be Mommy!" she announced.

"Tomorrow, eh?" I laughed, thinking of the movie Freaky Friday (the one with Jodie Foster, NOT Lindsey Lohan)

"Yes! Tomorrow."

"Ok," I said "I'll be Sofia." I then proceeded to talk in (my version of) her voice and got her smiling. I realized two things - my daughter does have quite a lisp and I seem to take great pleasure in imitating her. Note to self. Look into cartoon voice-over work.

At this point, she lost interest and disappeared. Her being a toddler and the silence quite deafening, I popped my head out the door to see what she was into. She was in the laundry basket, trying to open an umbrella. I asked what she was doing.

"Taking a shower!" she exclaimed.

Well, of course! How could I have missed that?

The Paradoxical 3 year old

There are days and there are days.

This is one of those days. I'll just preface this by saying that I'm sick, all the kids are sick. Everyone's cranky.

Sofia woke up in a foul mood and within 5 minutes was crumpled in a heap on the kitchen floor, hysterically crying for no apparent reason. She then demanded I "feed" her her waffles like a baby. When I said no and went to feed the twins (they were crying hysterically at the same time, wanting their bottles), she took it to a whole-new-level. She laid on the floor screaming and I rousted Steve and told him to go in there and do something.

That just made things 100 times worse as apparently, she only wanted me. A half hour later, I had her in my arms, trying to calm her down as she was shaking and gasping, as one does after a marathon tantrum. I kept telling her to take deep breaths, but this only heightened her anger.

All of this before 8 a.m. and it went downhill from there.

Without getting into much more detail, I'll just say that I could do nothing right in my daughter's eyes today, yet she wanted nothing to do with anyone but me. It was quite paradoxical, actually.

We also made a park run which turned out to be a unmitigated disaster. I had visions of pushing the twins on the swings while Sofia would play happily in the sandbox....not.so.much. Within 5 minutes, she insisted on taking off her shoes (had a boo boo) and basically shreaked whenever I paid attention to the twins and not her. Clearly, she did not appreciate their interloping on her territory, running through the park like a crazed, barefoot banshee, complete with snot running down her nose, to complete the effect. Let's just say I know I wasn't just imagining the looks of pity and disdain I was receiving.

Was going to try and have the twins sleep in their cribs in the nursery tonight, but as most everything else, that didn't go as planned either. With David crying for about half an hour and my 12 hour Sudafed quickly wearing off, I made the decision to try another day.

So, the twins will not officially be sleeping in the nursery by their first birthday. But you know what? I'm ok with that.

Slice of Life - Day 3 - Rest in Peace, Uncle Rudy

So, my uncle died. He was 85. Uncle Rudy was a "paisan" in the truest sense of the word. He was Pumatese, but you'd think he was Tuscani, the way he liked to brag. Looking back on their wedding photo, he looked exactly like a depression era mobster, complete with greased back hair and skinny, drawn on mustache.

His parents came from the "old country" and he was their only child. Despite their frugal lifestyle (they wore clothing with holes in them, I was always told by my grandmother as she tried to drill into me how cheap they were) they showered him with attention, ultimately resulting in a cocky, conceited, selfish person.

His wife is my great aunt (grandmother's sister.) My grandmother and her sister were very close and basically raised my brother and I as a team in those early days. My grandmother always (for lack of a better term)talked a lot of shit about good old Uncle Rudy. Cheap, controlling and selfish were words she used, but maybe not as nicely. She was particularly disgusted by the fact that his elderly, perverted father came to live with them and repeatedly tried to molest my aunt. This is the kind of thing I heard growing up.

We spent most days at my aunt's house growing up while my grandma worked so I got to know Rudy quite well. There was always an air of resentment towards my brother and I. He was very jealous, didn't like my aunt having family or her own to tend to. He needed to be the center of attention at all times. I was very young, but even then picked up on the tension that our presence brought to their marriage. One of the most vivid Rudy stories was how he didn't let his wife invite her sisters (my grandmother and their other sister) to the wedding because he considered them "too wild." (My grandma married 5 times, the other sister a few times, so he may not have been too far off the mark in all actuality ) my grandmother being of the "screw you" variety, decided to show up to the wedding. Her and Peggy (other sis) crashed the wedding. I always loved that story. It pretty much summed up my grandma.

There was no love lost between he and my grandma, but for all their shit talking, whenever they were around each other, they talked like they were old chums, chatting much longer than was necessary - even kind of flirting at times. I suspect there was a sexual tension between them and that while he thought he was "better" than my grandma and she thought he was an asshole, grandma was secretly a bit jealous that her sister had married "so well" - at least financially.

In the end, age softened him as age tends to do and grew to tolerate him over the years. He adored Steve and loved my kids - always going out his way to be complimentary. In a strange way, I think he was proud of me (although he'd never admit it) and approved of Steve and the life that I led. Considering he thought of my father as a "pinko" (which he probably was ) and was a proud Republican and NRA member (hunter) I think he was happy to see me living the American dream, I suppose. I know there were a few years there - ohhh, late 80's to maybe mid '90's - where the jury was still out on how my life was going to turn out.

He loved Sofia and she was fond of him as well. As superficial as this sounds, I think he liked her because she looked Italian. He actually held her on his lap and read her a story one time. I never saw him do that with his own grandchildren!! He also liked the twins, laughed at them and commented how cute they were. The last time I saw him was Christmas Eve.

I'm really sad he's gone, which surprises me. I'm also sad for my aunt who will now be alone for the first time in over 50 years. Lots to think about for her son; assisted living, hiring someone to live with her? etc. I wish I had a bigger house, I'd take her in. She took care of me as a kid, I figure I owe her. My brother has been helping her out quite a bit (he lives closer) I wish there was more I could do.

Rudy was a tough one, for sure. In the past 2 years, he'd been battling lymphoma. At the age of 82 went through agressive chemo and radiation. He was cancer free the last time I'd heard. In the end, he died from congestive heart failure. My aunt was a fabulous cook, but no shortage of fat and salt in the typical Italian cooking diet. Rest in peace, Uncle Rudy. I just know you are hanging out with your "paisans" who have departed before you, probably enjoying a nice glass of cabernet.

Slice of life day 2 - Formula

Formula. All I can think about lately is formula. My twins are fast approaching one, I have a huge birthday party to plan for them and my daughter and yet, I still keep obsessing on formula. In just over a week, we will no longer be slaves to formula ever again.

I have a lot to reflect on in this past year; my hospitalization with pneumonia, William's medical issues, family members dying, the Groundhog Day existence that my life has become and yet - my mind is full of formula. Powdered, ready to feed, 8 oz, 32 oz, Costco Brand, Premium brand, we've covered all of it and then some. There was a time (which feels like yesterday, it truly does) when the twins were probably 2 weeks old and I was on the verge of a breakdown as I washed bottles for the 5th time in that particular day. I questioned whether I'd ever be able to get used to this pace, this "new" normal.

Fast forward one year and here I am. I gave some thought to the time, cost and manpower feeding these boys has involved. I calculated approximately 3,640 bottles at a cost of $3600 for the year. Time involved? Approximately 52 hours for the year.

So as I look forward to a formula free future, I find myself wondering what will now become the "new" normal. Formula is expensive, but so is bread, eggs, cheese, meat, fruits and vegetables for 3 kids - not to mention the time involved preparing food for 3 kids and cleaning up the aftermath. I guess ultimately, it's probably a wash.

Maybe the formula thing wasn't so bad? Time will tell.

Slice of Life Day 1 - Bathroom talk

Overheard at my house today.

The scene: My bathroom. I am standing, facing the mirror, attempting to make something out of the mop of hair I let loose from its scrunchy. Running short on time, I decide not to blow dry and curl the hair today, to instead go with the curly, mid '80's Bon Jovi hair that I've perfected quite well over the last 20 years.

William has pulled himself to a standing position on the backs of my calves and is hanging on unsteadily. I slowly reach for the sink to turn on the water, making sure not to move too quickly. David is standing looking into the bathtub, then throws an orange plastic cup with glee against the porcelain tub. (this is his newest hobby, throwing items just for the fun of it) I am wondering where my husband is when Sofia enters the bathroom...

"Mommy, I have a poopy!" She loudly exclaims.

"Okkkkk...let me know when you are done, I will change your diaper."

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"Can I eat poopy?"

"No, I would not recommend that."

"Can I eat pee-pee?"

"No, that probably wouldn't be a good idea either."