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Category Archives: twins

How About That?

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Hey friends! I’m posting early today because we’re working on a big announcement for tomorrow! I can’t wait to share with you guys the next big step for my little blog that could. How about that?!

I’m flying solo today because Taryn is still on her North American tour and John & Dallas are hiking out to a glacier. Pics of these adventures will be posted later.

Usually, when it is just me and the twinkies I skip church. I’m lazy. However, this morning they were so worked up that I decided church, and the accompanying hour of childcare/fun with other kids would be perfect. It would have helped if I had known there was no childcare today. Frick.

It wasn’t all bad. One of their little friends had his croquet game set up in the lawn. (Did I mention I go to a little hippie church? Yeah, it’s awesome.) We did that for a while. Then I thought I could actually catch some of the service so we went in to the “cry room.” This was clearly the dumbest thing I have ever done. (And I’ve done a lot of dumb things.) Even with the speaker volume turned all the way up (thanks to another parent-I was too stupid to do that) I could not hear one word. I did however get to watch the kids build towers and roads out of blocks and then knock them down. And then get upset over the destruction. Not too smart if you asked me.

I watched Jackson have a near-meltdown when “the baby took Lightening The Queen.” Once he got Lightening back he put him in his back pocket. So no dumb baby could steal it. Babies are like that, jerks.

On the way home I decided to be mother of the year and get them McDonald’s for lunch. Don’t judge, if my family can leave me home with the twinkies while they have fun adventures, I at least deserve a vacation from cooking. Also, they were completely starved.

Jackson actually grabbed my face, turned it toward his and said, “I’m STARVING MOMMY. And I’m hot (it’s 63 degrees). I want to go home right now!” Reese spent 10 minutes in the car having a conversation with himself about food. He does that, it’s kind of creepy.

Jackson ate one and a half chicken nuggets. Reese ate seven french fries.

They weren’t starving after all. How about that?


Saturday Photos

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It’s been a slow news day around here. Reese and Jackson did some decorating. Apparently they didn’t like how I arranged the Thomas The Tank Engine wall stickers in their room…


That looks much better.

There was also a battle of good versus evil…

I won’t tell you who won. All that matters is the opponents ended the battle with otter pops on the porch.

Happy Saturday everyone!

WTF? Wednesday

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This Wednesday I’m having to choose between two Whiskey Tango Foxtrot? moments. It’s going to be a tough call.

Our first WTF? moment is brought to us by my Jackson. Lately, when he talks back to me he ends his sentence with, “how about that?”

For example:

“Oh yeah, well, I’m not going to wear my pants. How about that?”

“Well, then I’m going to punch Reese. How about that?

Or my favorite…

“Fine, then I’m not going to love you anymore. How about that?”

Seriously, WTF? He’s four. What is he going to say when he’s 14?

Or other contender is the stupid dog. This morning while on our Wednesday run she peed…blood. She peed an incredibly large amount of blood. We were only about a 1.5 miles in when she stopped and squatted on the asphalt trail and peed. (she never does that) When I looked and saw the huge puddle of blood I almost passed out. Imagine pouring a gallon of that V8 Fusion crap on the asphalt. That’s what it looked like.

WTF dog?

And seriously, what kind of dog owner thinks for at least three weeks that the stupid dog is peeing too often and might have a UTI but does not bother to make her an appointment? I suck at life.

Thanks for not pulling that crap on the weekend dog. Bravo.

My “friend” Christin was running with me, she’s  38 weeks pregnant. She said that anyone who saw us and then saw that puddle probably thought she had given birth on the trail. Either that or I’d finally had it with her skinny, mean, pregnant self making me look like a loser for not being able to keep up and cut her. I will cut a broad. Just not while she’s pregnant.

For the win I’m going with the stupid dog. Only because she made me realize that she does not completely suck and I would be sad if something happened to her. I have emotions. How about that?

Bad Mommy

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Jackson dropped the F-bomb today. I am 100% certain I did not misunderstand him. I wish I could say that he learned it from his father, but that’s only partially true. I could tell you that I try not to curse much, but that would also be only partially true.

The truth is, I think about cursing less. I censor myself in front of most people. But, I curse. A lot.

Apparently within earshot of the 4-year-olds. Excellent.

I could also tell you that other than the occasional curse word, I was an excellent mom today. But, it would not be true. I should have known it was going to be a bad day when my alarm went off at 5:30 and I turned it off and went back to sleep.

For two more hours.

The plan was to get up at 5:30 so Taryn and I could go on a long bike ride before the twinkies woke up. That way John would only have to make sure the house did not burn down, instead of doing actual childcare.

Instead I got up at 7:30, got dressed, and woke Taryn and John. The twinkies woke up before Taryn and I left, which made me feel guilty for messing up the original plan. So, I poured their cereal, laid out a blanket in the living room, and turned on Cars. I told them they were having a “BREAKFAST INDOOR PICNIC!!” They were very excited. I’m pretty sure John slept on the couch the whole time we were gone.


After the bike ride I took the twinkies to the indoor playground. Because they needed to burn some energy and it was cold and damp stupid Alaska summer day. On the way home Taryn and I planned to stop at the grocery store and Costco.

Reese had other ideas.

Before leaving we made a potty break. He peed all over his pants. I think he did it on purpose. I could have driven home and gotten him a clean pair of pants. I could have skipped the shopping. I did neither of those things. I soaked up as much of the pee as I could with the bathroom paper towels and drove on.

I forgot all about the pee until Reese climbed on Dallas’ lap at dinner. Woops.

At the grocery store Reese stole a piece of candy. You know those big, stupid bins of bulk candy? I hate those. Anyway, he stole a Werther’s. I didn’t realize it until we were half way to Costco. Actually, I did not realize at all, Taryn did. She’s a way better parent than I am.

I should have turned the car around and made him take the wrapper back and apologize, like any good sitcom mom. I did not. I scolded him and drove on. (A Werther’s? Yuck. At least he could have stolen a good candy.)

Then Jackson said the F-word. I scolded him. He looked at me like he wanted to kill me. Seriously, what business do I have yelling at him when I probably said the word 3 times today? (By 3 I mean 30)

Later, when the stupid dog barked to come in, Jackson said, “Oh man, you freaking dog!”

At least he said freaking. He’s learning not to copy verbatim. Maybe I’m not such a bad mommy after all…

Rockin’ The Baby Bump

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Not anymore. Not now. Don’t be crazy. I’m closed for business.

However, there is a new photo link-up from Shell at Things I Can’t Say for pregnancy photos. Why not? It can’t be worse than showing you my not-so-fabulous high school days right?

I don’t have digital photos of my first pregnancy with the twins. Because I am really old. I’m also really lazy so I’m not going to scan them. You’ll have to survive with just pics of  the twinkies in the oven.

Brace yourself, I was scary.

This first one is not too bad, I was only about 15 weeks in. Still so small that we went backpacking with the twins. The dog had to pull me up the hills.

I cropped it so you would not have to witness the cankles. You’re welcome.

I think the next one was taken in July which would have made me about 7 months along. Or something, I don’t know… I blocked it out.

I don’t know why I was smiling. Probably because I knew that in just a couple of months I could start drinking again.

Now for the scariest of all. This is not photo shopped. I’m 34 weeks here, the twinkies were born 2 weeks later.

When you grow out of your maternity bathing suit it’s time to stop swimming. Just an FYI.

Four babies, two giant stomachs.

Worth every stretch mark.

The World According To Jackson

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Four-year-olds live in another dimension. Most of the time I wish I lived in their world instead of the real one. This is Jackson’s take on life.

On Waking Up

According to Jackson the appropriate way to wake your mother is to enter her room as quietly as possible. It is imperative that you not make enough noise to startle her awake until you are next to the bed. Then, stand with your face 6 inches from hers and say, as loud as humanly possible, “IT’S GOOD MORNING!!!”

On Going To The Bathroom

Stand near the toilet. Not close enough for all of your pee to go in the bowl, that would be crazy. Pee for a few seconds on the shower curtain, the bathroom rug, and the toilet paper. Continue peeing into the bowl while moving around enough that it splatters everywhere. Let the stream fizzle out on your pants and the floor. Do not flush. Do not wash your hands. Change into an outfit that makes you look homeless.

On Playing With The Stupid Dog

Ride her like a horse. Examine her teeth by putting your hands all the way into her mouth while she is sleeping. Feed her treats by pegging them directly at her eyeballs. Pull her tail repeatedly. If she so much as wimpers in pain scream, “SHUT UP SADIE!”

On Playing Video Games

Never share with your brother. Ever. If he tries to play a game, turn off the TV. Restart the game whenever you are losing. If you still lose after restarting the game ten times throw the controller down the stairs. It’s all the controllers fault anyway.

On Eating

Beg for snacks constantly. Get into the refrigerator when no one is looking and take bites out of apples, cheese, butter, and strawberries. Eat yogurt with only your fingers. At meal time, eat nothing. NOT. ONE. BITE. Tell everyone who will listen that your food is “dEsgusting.” Ask for dessert. Ask again. Ask at least 37 times every meal.

On Showering

Showering is a time for screaming and making noise. It is also a great time to pee. On your brother. Move around constantly so that it is nearly impossible to wash your hair or your body. If even one drop of water gets in your eyes scream as if acid has been poured on your face. After the shower refuse to wear anything but the Buzz Lightyear or Spiderman pajamas.

On Going To Sleep

Screw you mom.

On The Road

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This is my 101st blog post. I feel like I am at least 101 years old because today Taryn got her learner’s permit. I can still remember giving birth to her. I remember buckling her into her little infant car seat. Just a short while ago we turned it around so she was forward facing. It was only a few months back that we moved her up to the booster seat and she started buckling herself. I swear only last week she was finally tall enough to ride in the front seat with the airbags on.

Now, she’s learning to drive? That’s not possible, even when you live in a place that allows kids to get permits at 14.

I think she’s only 4. If she’s 14 then I’m…well, I’m really old.

She seems to think so.

We talked about drivers’ ed classes over dinner. I told her that I took one in the summer school session after my sophomore year. She asked me if they had paved roads back then.

John asked if it was hard to stop a dinosaur.

Even Dallas asked if they had invented the wheel yet.

Stupid, sarcastic family.

I don’t think I am going to be able to teach Taryn to drive. She’s obviously too obsessed with my age. The other night we watched the original (and the only one that will ever count) Footloose. At the end the song “Almost Paradise” came on. I told Taryn that this was the theme of my junior prom. I figured she would want to know all the details about my dress (hunter green with lace), my date (Hector Melendez), and the decor (a tropical paradise, I helped build a waterfall out of cellophane).

Instead she said, “Was it in a cave?”

So no, this elderly lady will not be teaching her how to drive. Good luck, Dallas.

(I know you are wondering: No, John did not get his permit too. He won’t take the online pre-test because, “it seems kinda boring.” Stupid teenager.)

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