December 29, 2009 by Wendy
This is what happens when the dad takes the children out alone and the mom is too distracted with wrapping presents, making grocery lists and writing the holiday newsletter to notice what the children are wearing when they leave the house with the dad. The mismatched shoes, the sparkly “Let’s Get Physical” headband, the hair? Really? At least it was only to her sister’s basketball practice.
Category Little Miss | Tags: | 4 Comments
December 29, 2009 by Wendy
I finally got the Skechers Shape-ups I’ve had my eye on since last summer. You know, those weird-looking shoes that promise you’ll “Get in Shape Without Setting Foot in a Gym.”
We’ll see about that. I took my first walk in them today, a couple of times around the block, totally feeling like I was in a breezy Skechers commercial. And boy am I hurting right now already!
But not because of the “gymless” workout.
On my way home, one of the girls, whom my sister has affectionately given the nickname “Dozer” for her propensity for crashing into people, crashed into me. With her brand-new Diamondback mountain bike. Her hand brake jammed into my ulna and my whole wrist became a tingling ball of pain. And I think her tires hit me somewhere, too.
So, yeah, to those of who want to know if the shoes really work, the jury is still out. But my forearm muscle sure hurts!
Category Health & Fitness Fodder | Tags: | No Comments
December 28, 2009 by Wendy
This year, I almost ran out of time to send out our annual holiday card and newsletter. Almost. But I had the cards made, picked them up, wrote the newsletter, printed it on pretty paper, and got them ready to send just in the bare nick of time. To expedite the process of actually getting all 114 out, I enlisted the family. After all, the card is from Us, and should be sent out by Us, right? So I gathered the troops, placed them strategically around the kitchen table and gave everyone their orders: Twin B was the return address and stamp putter-onner, Twin A was the address label putter-onner, I was the newsletter folder and card stuffer, BK was the sealer (with a sponge and water, no spit, gross), and Little Miss was to put on the envelope any kind of random Christmassy stickers that she could find around the house.
“Uh, do you know that she’s putting Trader Joe’s stickers on these?” asked BK.
“That’s OK, it’s quirky and campy. Besides, they’re Christmassy,” I said all casually and nonchalantly, as if that’s how I am about our cards.
We had Christmas music playing, and it was festive and fun.
Until I turned into the Card Nazi.
“Who put that stamp on upside down?” I said, in a scary Exorcist voice, as an envelope made its way down the assembly line. “We cannot have this! If you’re going to be part of the process, we need to have strict quality control here!” Yes, I said that. (Although it really wasn’t Exorcist mean, but bordering on Kate Gosselin mean.)
And then:
“Oh my gosh! All those address labels are crooked! You have to put them on straight, like this!” I said, getting all hot and sweaty.
And then: BK had the idea to make some hot tea for us all and serve it with some freshly baked shortbread cookies.
“Are you kidding???? And get all that shortbread grease on the cards????” was my response to his kindly offer.
I was Kate Gosselin.
But these were our Christmas cards we were working on!
The thing is, I do take time with our card, selecting the right pictures, and then carefully wording our newsletter so that it doesn’t come across as braggy or boring. We all know those holiday newsletters get a bad rap. There are actually websites and blogs devoted to the Bad Holiday Newsletter. Really. I don’t look too closely at them, though, for fear of seeing one of mine on there.
I actually love receiving a newsletter, and am a little disappointed when I open a card and there isn’t one. I also love seeing the photos of everyone’s kids, and how cute they are and how much they’ve grown over the year. But that’s me. When I deposited those 114 perfectly sealed, almost perfectly stamped letters into the mailbox, I cringed a little, knowing that there are people out there who don’t feel the same way as I do about them. And that’s OK if they are met with a sigh, an eye roll and an “oh, please,” before ending up in the recycle bin. I just don’t want to know about it. Or see it on a website someday. In the words of Rachel Zoe: I. Would. Die.
Category Holiday Fodder | Tags: | 3 Comments
December 15, 2009 by Wendy
I was at a party with a bunch of moms today, and one of them asked Little Miss, “How did you get to be so pretty?”
She said: “I don’t know, I just grew up and I was beautiful!”
And humble.
Wow. I knew we were in trouble with this one.
Category Little Miss | Tags: | 7 Comments
December 15, 2009 by Wendy
Last night, Twin A was doing one of her American Girl quizzes with Little Miss about what she will be when she grows up. When all her answers pointed to “movie star,” I said, “Wow! Do you want to be a movie star?” wondering if she even knew what a movie star was. (Are there any movie stars anymore anyway?)
“Yeah,” she said, “but I’d rather be a mom. I just want to be a mom.”
“Awwww,” the twins and I said in unison. That is so sweet to hear and reinforcement that it really is OK to be “just a mom” sometimes.
Then she went on with her plans:
“I’m going to have two kids and their names are going to be Ashley and Sabannah.” (I’m pretty sure she meant “Savannah,” a name that occasionally comes up in the twins’ chatter about school. But Sabannah’s a cute name, too.)
“But what if you have boys?” I asked. “Then what would you name them?”
She looked at me like I had just told her that Santa wasn’t coming to town.
“I only want them to be girls,” she said.
“But what if God gives you boys? Then what?” I asked.
“Well, then I will tell you that I wanted them to be girls,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“And what will I do?”
“You would return them,” she said.
I, the queen of returning due to my indecisiveness, wasn’t at all surprised at her answer.
“You can’t just return a baby like it’s something you return to a store,” I explained.
“Oh.”
And that was that. I think I squelched her dream of being a mom.
It’s not that she doesn’t like boys, even though she’s growing up in an estrogen-drenched household. It’s all about the hair. She loves long hair. In her mind, if a woman has short hair, she’s a “lady,” and if a woman has long hair, she’s a “girl,” no matter how old they are.
I am a girl. That’s good, because I’m not ready to be a lady.
Her grandmothers are “ladies,” the twins’ teachers are “ladies,” but the weathered Safeway cashier with the long gray hair is a “girl.”
The only problem with this hair thing is only people with long hair can give her a bath or wipe her bottom. Which means there are tears and sometimes constipation when I’m not around to do those things for her.
Sometimes I think, what if I lose my hair due to illness or a fire or something, then what? Or even if I want to get a shorter hairstyle, for goodness sake!
“What if I had no hair sometime, or short hair? Would you still love me?” I asked her recently.
“Um, a little bit. I’ll say a little, OK?”
Ouch.
This is one phase I hope she outgrows soon. Either that, or she’d better hope that Fabio is available when she’s ready to start dating.
Category Little Miss | Tags: | 4 Comments
December 14, 2009 by Wendy
Last week, it rained. In Arizona, that is big news. Like, huge news. It was the top story on that night’s local news. That day, President Obama had just announced that more troops were headed to Afghanistan, but it rained in Arizona! (At least we got a break from the Tiger Woods scandal.) I got in the shower right as the news began, and when I came out, they were still talking about the weather! And I don’t take short showers.
I have to admit, when it rains, it is big news in our house. All day, Little Miss was begging to put on her rain boots and go stomp in the puddles. I kept telling her when it let up, she could. But it didn’t let up all day. When the twins got home from school, I finally gave in and let them run wild in the rain:
Yep, barefoot even. I could picture my father-in-law saying, “Are you crazy? They’re gonna get sick!”
But really, how often does it rain here? When it does, it’s a treat and I let them get as wet as they can stand. Besides, I’ve never been one to believe you get sick just from being outside in the cold and wet—don’t you need some actual germs to get sick?
I was more worried about electrocution. The day before, we had just put up our outside Christmas lights, and this is what it looked like in the pouring rain:
Uh, isn’t that dangerous?
So I called BK at work to ask him. Not one to panic or freak out, he said calmly, “Well, it’s probably not the best.”
“But is it dangerous?” I asked urgently.
“Depends what you mean by ‘dangerous.’ ”
Such a typical response.
“I mean, can we get electrocuted?” I asked in exasperation.
“Well, I suppose that’s possible. Anything’s possible.”
Another one of my favorite answers.
“Well, what should I do? Should I unplug them? I’m afraid!”
“No, the worst that’ll probably happen is it’ll probably just trip the GFI switch.”
And he was right. That’s all it did.
And it turned out puddle jumping wasn’t nearly as much fun as Little Miss thought it was going to be. This was her on her first jump:
I thought she was crying because she was stuck, like it was quicksand. And being the mom that I am, did I grab her out and comfort her? No, I grabbed my camera first. And then I rescued and comforted her.
Hey, it’s not often we get rain here. I have to capture the moments when I can. And no one g0t sick or electrocuted. It was a good day.
Category Family Fodder | Tags: Arizona | 1 Comment
December 13, 2009 by Wendy
Notice anything in these photos of Little Miss? Yeah, I know. But it’s not what you think. She is not developing early. No way. My girls drink only organic, hormone-free milk and we try to stay away from any products with parabens in them. (They’re said to be endocrine disruptors and may display estrogenic activity.) I’m a little psycho that way and will do anything to stave off puberty for the sake of us all. So no, it’s not that.
Little Miss is obsessed with Ariel (the mermaid), and because Ariel wears a bikini top, Little Miss wears a bikini top, all day, every day, all night, underneath all of her clothes and pajamas. Seriously, the only time it’s off is bathtime. And then it goes immediately back on. This has been going on for months.
You can see it in all her pictures, even when she got all dressed up to sit on Santa’s lap. ”Dang! Her bikini strap is showing!” I noticed while looking at the pictures later. Her favorite bikini top is one that happens to be particularly lumpy, which is why she looks a little um, busty, sometimes. I forget all about it until I notice some of the quizzical stares we get when we’re in public.
I’m sure this phase will pass soon. But until then, I’m going to let her be Ariel. At least it’s not Barbie. Or worse.
Category Little Miss | Tags: | No Comments
December 13, 2009 by Wendy
For weeks, I’ve been unsuccessfully looking for black knee socks for the twins to wear with their school uniforms. For some reason, I cannot find black, and I’ve searched from Target to Nordstrom and everywhere in between, including online. The closest I can find is navy blue, which certainly won’t fly with their school’s strictly enforced uniform code. What’s with the run on black knee socks for girls? I didn’t think they were that popular. Either that, or they’re not popular at all and aren’t being made.
So one day I’m on the phone complaining about it to my older sister in Michigan, and she goes, “Oh, I’ll make them some!”
Make them? Who makes socks anymore? I’m pretty sure not even Caroline Ingalls made socks. But if anyone can make socks, it’s my sister. Unlike me, she can make anything. Unlike me, she got the craft gene, apparently. So that’s what she did. Like, in a day.
Here they are:
Unfortunately, they’re handwash only. That’s going to be a problem for me. Luckily, this pair was just a prototype, which explains why each girl is wearing only one. She said she’ll find some cotton yarn and make some that can be machine washed. Whew!
But why couldn’t I have done that? Probably because I hate knitting, crocheting, needlepointing, all that stuff. My mom and grandma tried to show me a few times when I was about 1o, but I would rather read my Nancy Drew books or play with my horse models. I still would rather do those things than knit or crochet. I have no patience for it, so it’s a good thing there are people like my sister in this world who can hand make cool stuff—and hand make it for my girls and me.
She just made a pair of Uggs-like slippers for my other sister. They’re really cool.
A couple years ago, I told her that I would love to have a little throw blanket made out of pieces of a bunch of old T-shirts of ours that I can’t bear to throw away. So for my birthday this year, she made me not a throw, but a huge, HUGE quilt. Here it is:
This picture shows just a few squares, but there are actually 40 squares each made from a T-shirt that has some meaning to us but that we would never wear, like some from college, family construction companies, Disneyland trips, and a dorky “Italian by Marriage” shirt. (Who’s the wiseguy that got that for me anyway?) Of course, my favorite one that she put right in the center is my Marcia Brady “I hate high school! I hate it! I hate it!” shirt:
Isn’t that the grooviest? I keep telling her she could make a lot of money making these “memory blankets” for people. She’s also made me a felted purse, slippers, a cellphone case, even matching sundresses for the girls and me. And because Little Miss will only wear skirts and dresses that “spin,” she crocheted knitted this skirt for her:
While she was here visiting me, she sewed Little Miss a super girly, super frilly purple “spinny” dress that I couldn’t peel off of Little Miss for months. Some of these things she just whips out of her head. Sheesh! She totally took all the craft gene! Once in a great while, I’ll sew on a button, and I have been seen with the hot-glue gun (not to attach a button, but I have thought of that), but that’s my limit.
Clearly, the craft gene skipped me, but Twin B seems to have gotten some of it. My mom taught her to sew last summer, and she made a robe and a pair of pajama pants. She also likes to knit and crochet, but if she needs help with a stitch, she knows not to ask me. I feel a little bad about that.
But not bad enough to take up knitting or crocheting. I hate knitting! I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!
Category Things I'm Bad At | Tags: | 9 Comments
December 8, 2009 by Wendy
At our house this time of year, it’s all Christmas music, all the time. Although we have a huge arsenal of Christmas CDs, ranging from the classics and the classical (Tony Bennett, Mel Torme, Handel’s Messiah) to the cheesy (Christmas with the Brady Bunch, of course!), we usually default to listening to the local radio station that plays holiday music around the clock from Thanksgiving to Dec. 26.
It can get really annoying.
This year, they started way before Thanksgiving, so we were pretty much done with it by the time we put the tree up. For six weeks, they play the same continuous loop of songs, over and over and over. At least The Hippopotamus Song seems to have been knocked out of the loop this year. Hallelujah.
But there are still plenty of other offenders, like Wham’s Last Christmas, Jessica Simpson’s Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree and anything by Air Supply or Aaron Neville.
On a positive note, listening to this music ad nauseum has opened up plenty of interesting dialogue in our household. Once, during the annoying Wham song, Little Miss asked, “He gave her his heart? How could he do that? Did he wrap it up and put it under the tree? And then she gave it away? Why would she give it
away?”
How do you answer that?
It was easier to find an answer the other day while driving in the car and Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas is You was playing and Twin B said, “I don’t get it. How could she not want presents under the tree and instead just want some guy for Christmas?”
I laughed and said, “Someday you’ll understand.” But inside, I was going, “Yes! That’s my girl. She doesn’t get it!” She shouldn’t get it. And I hope she doesn’t get it for another 10 years. No, make that 20 years.
And yet, yesterday when I asked Little Miss what her favorite Christmas song was, she said, “the one where the girl sings all I want for Christmas is you.”
We’re in trouble. Why couldn’t she have just said the super-annoying Chipmunks song, like a normal 4-year-old?
But the song that has opened up the most discussion, at least between BK and me, is Dan Fogelberg’s Same Old Lang Syne, the one about the exes meeting in the grocery store on Christmas Eve. I used to love that song. Until one day I really listened to the words: “I went to hug her and she spilled her purse, and we laughed until we cried.”
Come on! Would you really laugh until you cried over a spilled purse, especially during the awkwardness and surprise at running into an ex? OK, maybe if something embarrassing like a tampon fell out, but still, unless you’re a sixth-grade boy, even that’s not funny enough to invoke tears.
But then it gets worse: So they drive around looking for a bar, but nothing is open so they go to a liquor store and buy a six-pack and drink it in her car. Meanwhile, I’m thinking, she said she was married to an architect, so isn’t it a little shady that she’s sitting in a car drinking beer with her ex on Christmas Eve? Obviously, she had run out to the grocery store, so doesn’t the architect wonder where she is by now? (Although, she was in the frozen foods section, maybe looking for ice cream or a Lean Cuisine, which doesn’t exactly indicate dinner for two, so maybe there are problems.)
At the end of the song, the beer is gone and their “tongues were tired.” I’m sure I’m taking it too literally, but tired, slack tongues is just a gross image. I mean, have you ever heard anybody say their tongue is tired? But even worse, BK pointed out that after they down the six-pack, they both get in their cars and drive. “In the snow and rain,” added BK. “Drunk. Nice.”
Now I don’t like that song anymore.
That’s not the first song BK has ruined for me. I used to love The Piña Colada song by Rupert Holmes. I always thought it was such a cute and clever story until BK pointed out to me, “Neither one of them is happy in the relationship and they’re totally trying to cheat on each other! What’s cute about that?”
Well, he had a point. But at least they didn’t drive after drinking the piña coladas. And I still think it’s a clever song.
I think for the rest of the season, it’s best if we stick to songs like Carol of the Bells and Linus and Lucy.
No words.
So what holiday songs drive you to drink? You can add your comments by clicking on the little caption bubble by the headline of each post.
Category Holiday Fodder | Tags: holidays | 4 Comments
December 3, 2009 by Wendy
Yesterday, Twin A and Twin B found out they both placed in their school’s science fair. This was big news in our house, because as anyone whose kids have participated in a science fair knows, science fair takes over your whole life. Grandparents, aunts and uncles anxiously awaited the results along with us, probably because they were all sick of hearing us talk about it.
Twin A's project on heat absorption.
Twin B's project on springs.
Science fair has always been a big part of our lives since the girls were in second grade. I guess this is what happens when there’s a rocket scientist in the house. And it ain’t me. The science gene certainly didn’t come from my pool—I like biology, but that’s it, and only sort of. But the twins get into it, and have actually won and gone on to compete in the district science fair three years in a row, twice even winning gold medals.
Last year was the first time they didn’t place at all for their project on paper-towel absorbency, which was hard to believe after watching them meticulously soak and weigh a Costco pack of paper towels over the course of an entire weekend. Really, an entire weekend. And really, an entire Costco pack.
To be fair, Twin A was preoccupied with studying for the regional spelling bee, which happened to be on the same day as the science fair, so it was a pretty stressful week for all, to say the least.
They were totally fine with their first-time science fair loss, but Mr. BK, well, that was a different story. He felt that he let them down. I found myself consoling him with platitudes like, ”It’s OK, they can’t win every time; you did the best you could and that’s what matters.” (Of course, secretly thinking, “Well maybe if you guys had listened to one of my ideas,” but whatever.) Meanwhile, the girls were over it about 30 seconds after seeing their ribbon-free board.
In middle school, the rules of the science fair change: no group projects (they had always shared their project), and best of all (for us!), it had to be done entirely at school. Parent involvement was limited to financing the projects, providing the necessary supplies, and allowing for Internet time. We were even given specific guidelines on what was and was not “appropriate” to discuss at home.
Well, OK, we get the point. Parents, pony up the cash and mind your own beeswax.
So that’s what we did. And they won. Twin A in first place, Twin B in fourth. We couldn’t be prouder of them. But…
Along with the coolness of having and being twins—especially same-gender twins—comes a little thing called competition. I’ve always said a little competition is good, and it has proved to be so for them. But…
You know how Jan Brady was always feeling in the shadow of the ever-popular, ever-successful older sister Marcia? (Note: You’ll find many of my posts reference The Brady Bunch. The Bradys are and always have been a huge part of our daily lives. The Brady Bunch theme song is my ringtone, and “Sunshine Day” is my sister’s special ringtone when she calls me.) So anyway, it’s not that Twin B is the underdog; not at all. Both girls have consistently gotten the exact same grades on their report cards since kindergarten, both tested into the gifted program in elementary school, and both are equally outgoing and ambitious. But somehow, some way, Twin A always seems to squeak ahead in every competition and contest, while Twin B always finds herself in third place, no matter what, whether it’s a Halloween costume contest (twice), the spelling bee (three times) and a storytelling contest at Barnes & Noble. It really is uncanny.
Jan, I mean Twin B, handles all this surprisingly well, although last year in exasperation, she did tell me, “I’m beginning to really dislike the number three.” (Although she didn’t say it in the breathy, whiny tone that Jan would.)
A few days after she said that, the jerseys for her basketball team were handed out, and you can guess what number she got. Yep, three. Two seasons in a row. Luckily, Marcia, I mean Twin A, does not like basketball. She’s too busy winning her blue ribbons in gymnastics. (Remember all those trophies on Marcia’s dresser?)
So it should be understandable why, for days after the projects were judged, there was much anticipation between them over not only if they’d place, but who would place where if they did. Both really just wanted to place, because that would mean they would be exempt from the major research project in the spring. That was a huge incentive for them.
They discussed at length every scenario, and both agreed that it would be best if neither of them placed at all than if one did and one didn’t. Talk of places never even came up. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if they’d place at all, as we had seen a lot of awesome projects on the day parents were invited to the fair.
So yesterday when I picked them up from school, Twin B got in the car with the biggest smile on her face and blurted out, ”I don’t have to do the research project next semester!”
“Did you place?” I nearly screamed.
“I got fourth place!” she said, just as excited as I was.
There, in the pickup line, I got a huge lump in my throat and tried not to cry. I would’ve turned around to hug her, but I didn’t want to crash into the car in front of me. After much congratulations, I said, “Hey! You didn’t get third place!”
“I know! I’m so happy!” she exclaimed.
And then came the inevitable out of my mouth, and with a slight wince: “How did A do?”
“Better, but I think she’d want to tell you.” Uh-oh, I admit I thought.
Just then, I saw Twin A come bounding toward the car, big smile on her face.
“I got first place!” she shouted, barely closing the door behind her.
The lump in my throat came back, but this time, I had to try not laugh, not cry.
“Are you serious?” was all I could muster. Of course, I was thrilled for her and congratulated her, but I was a little surprised since both BK and I said many times over the past few weeks that we thought B’s project was more complicated and thought she put a bit more effort into it. Not that A didn’t deserve it, I was just surprised. Happy, but surprised.
I gave them my phone so they could share the news with their father, whom I knew would have the exact same reaction as I did. Twin B broke her news first, then handed the phone over to A so that she could tell hers. A glance in the rear-view mirror assured me that she really was OK with it. No fighting back tears, just a genuine shiny smile. Phew!
And then as soon as we got home, and this is going to sound really bad unless you understand the dynamics of our unique situation, I texted my sisters and sister-in-law the following: “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia. That’s all I’m saying. Call later for details.”
Immediately, I got a text back from one of my sisters. All it said was, “NO!”
Next came the text from my sister-in-law: “So I take it A won again?”
This is just the way it is. It’s not that no one is happy for and extremely proud of Twin A, and it’s not to take anything away from her; she certainly deserves every one of her wins. It’s just that, well, “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!”
Later when I got a moment alone with Twin B, I again told her how proud of her I was, and asked if it bothered her that her sister placed first.
“Not at all,” she said. “I’m just glad I placed. I would’ve been happy with an Honorable Mention, just as long as I didn’t have to that research project next semester.” And I believed her, especially when I heard them sharing the news over the phone throughout the evening with family members. She was just as excited saying “fourth place” as she would’ve been saying “first.” In fact, my mom thought she did say “first” and had to be corrected. (Yikes.)
Later, Twin A told me that when the winners were announced over the loudspeaker that morning, she didn’t think she heard right. And then her very next thought was that she wanted to hear her sister’s name.
So, yes, they’re competitive, but they’re sweet about it, and they truly do want the best for each other. But it would be nice for Jan to capture a first place sometime.
There’s always that upcoming essay contest…
Wait a minute. I just remembered: Didn’t Marcia win that “Father of the Year” essay contest?
Uh, buoy. Stay tuned…
Category Twin Tweens | Tags: Brady Bunch,twins | 1 Comment