Changeling

Since before Halloween, my lovely daughter J has insisted that she is a rabbit.

When people ask J her name she confidently, and pleasantly, says, "Rabbit." When I call her my "sweet baby girl" she corrects me: "Rabbit." (Sometimes this is said under her breath and sometimes she just says it in a very matter-of-fact tone. Duh, mom.) When I ask her what she'd like to wear she says, "A Pink RABBIT shirt."

(She doesn’t own a single piece of clothing with a rabbit on it. It seems all shirts are "rabbit" shirts.)

She was THRILLED when she discovered that she would be able to dress as a rabbit (A PINK RABBIT) on Halloween. And all the parties surrounding Halloween.

On Saturday she declared that she’s a dog.

No more rabbit.

I already miss rabbit.

(It’s worth noting that my son S claims to be “Fireman Sam.” Yesterday, though, he asked to be called an “engineer.” Might have something to do with the new train table, y’ think?)

All the clichés are true: they grow up too fast, you blink and they grow two inches, they look different every day…

A good friend gave me some awesome advice shortly before I had S & J: She said to take pictures CONSTANTLY. Don’t stop. Even if you think the moment is not worth capturing, just everyday happenings... These images are the only record of how quickly time passes. As a result I take my camera everywhere and always have it charged and at the ready.

I want to remember when J changes into a princess or a giraffe or a flower. Or if she becomes a rabbit again.

I want to somehow capture the changes.

I may never get used to them changing so much, all the time, but I want to remember those changes and enjoy HOW they are changing. It's a never-ending, fascinating, and absolutely lovely sight.

Twice as Aware

As a child, death was an unreal concept to me. I was absolutely, positively convinced that someone would discover a way for people to live forever. Maybe it was a pill. Or a machine. I just knew that I would live forever.

I can tell you the exact moment I realized I would die.

I was a freshman in high school and was sleeping over at Alison's. We were watching some funny TV show, stretched out on those comfy, expensive-feeling couches in her den and it hit me. Like a ton of bricks. I have no idea what spurred the thought. A cold chill ran through my body and I absolutely froze. I literally felt ice-cold. I remember thinking that one day I would not be on this earth. And I was absolutely terrified.

And then I quickly pushed the thought out of my head.

In the years that followed I didn't really think about death much, in fact, I’m not sure I thought about it again until I turned 21 and was quite surprised that I was still alive. I rarely said no to a dare. I took lots of chances. I didn’t follow instructions. I didn’t listen. I had FUN. All the time. I made bad decisons to see what would happen. (Usually nothing too bad.) I experienced all I could. I drank it all in, I lived life fully. (Some people might tell you TOO fully.) I never did anything illegal (not entirely true, let's just say nothing FELONIOUS) but I didn't always put safety concerns at the top of the list. I had no fear.

None.

Everything changed after the twins were born.

I was suddenly aware of death again. Twice as aware.

This morning, at daybreak, a fried of mine died. For 16 years she fought a brilliant and brave battle with cancer. She was at home, surrounded by her husband of 43 years and her loving children and their spouses.

Death seems to be very much around me these days. We lost someone we knew in that horrible train wreck in L.A. in September. A neighbor's cancer has returned.

Having children paired with recent death experiences has made me more aware than ever

And I think it’s good that I have this awareness back.

Despite the extreme exhaustion and lack of brain power these days, I try my best to live my life fully and yearn to experience everything. My “life” motivation is different than before. It’s not because I know I will die one day. It’s because I want show our children this incredible world before I die; I want to share all that I have… I want to make a difference, if only in their lives, but hopefully beyond that too.

I am aware.

Selling Our Souls for Health

(We now take a break from potty training to bring you a message about germs and Hell... Oh, don't worry, poop talk will continue soon. MUWAHAHAHAHA...)

We didn't go to church yesterday. In fact, I don't remember when we last attended.

I think it was when S & J caught an awful cold from some snot-nosed kid in the church-provided daycare so we decided to take a "church break" until cold season was over.

O.k., that's telling... So, clearly (since FALL is cold season) we maybe haven't been in a year.

I suddenly feel even worse.

We had a good run there for a awhile but the church we attend really doesn't enforce the "no sick kids" rule and time after time we brought home some Super-Horrific-Sticky-Green-Mucus-Pukeazoid-Bug that felled the kids, and sometimes us. And to say that it's tough to deal with sick twin toddlers when you are also sick is a massive understatement.

Like saying that breastfeeding twins is a gigantic freak show.

A BIG, FAT UNDERSTATEMENT.

And now I'm feeling so guilty.

And now I feel like maybe I have to make a choice: Eternal damnation or healthy kids?

S & J aren't in regular daycare and very rarely have a playdate with more than 3 or 4 kids at a time. As a result they aren't little petri-dishes of Cholera but also maybe don't have the same resistance to all the Kid Krud that most daycare kids do.

I've talked to other "no daycare" moms and they don't take their kiddos to church daycare during cold and flu season.

So at least I'll have people I can share recipes with in Hell.

Way scarier than ghouls and goblins

You know by now that I'm terrified by this year's election.

I have friends (literally) shouting the praises of Obama but can't explain why he is their choice to run this country.

They say, "We just don't want more of the same!" but their research is thin and flimsy.

They say, "I want change!" but they can't tell me why.

They say, "Palin is a joke and I don't want her to be one heartbeat away from the presidency!" but not one single person I spoke to could tell me about her voting or leadership record.

(They could, however, recite recent SNL skits nearly word for word.)

One very smart, dear friend, a schoolteacher, told me she can't support McCain because he doesn't support teachers. I couldn't find any evidence of this so I asked her to show me where she saw this (there is NO WAY I would support a candidate that doesn't support teachers) or to send documentation. I haven't heard from her in nearly 2 weeks.

I have friends that believe McCain will raise taxes for the poor (he won't) and that he will keep the war going indefinitely (he has said he won't) so they want Obama in office so he can "CHANGE" things.

Not one single person has been able to tell me what that "CHANGE" is.

And now it just got much scarier.

My mother-in-law is a pollworker in Miami. Yesterday she wrote this to me:

I have been working at the early voting polls for this past 10 days, and I am watching busloads of the elderly, blind, homeless brought in to vote for Obama.

I have had to help people who cannot read English; I have watched the Creole interpreters (whose language I cannot understand – so I do not know if these interpreters are telling the blind, and those who seem to have no awareness of where they are, how to vote); I have watched while the interpreters have filled in the ballot with their own hands while the “voter” stands by with a cane or wheelchair and says nothing much that is intelligible. Is this even legal? A barely alive body with a”maybe” legal card having their ballot filled out by an openly biased interpreter?

I have seen VERY few voters who know what is going on – who have given thought to the issues and who are voting with their intellect.

I HAVE seen thousands ( literally-since we process about a thousand per day) of voters come in just to vote for Obama and say they do not care about the rest - and make loud remarks about it to the crowd. These voters are not voting for the issues –it is for racial reasons.

There is an assumption that voting for Obama is what black people MUST do - no matter if they understand what is at stake or not! Someone has relieved them of the responsibility to think about the issues and told them they will be “taken care of” it they vote for Obama!

It is appalling to watch how the voting is being manipulated.

I am not sure how these people who are barely alive – coming in to vote in a country where they have not bothered to learn English, or to learn about how the government works, and who would not be otherwise voting - [would be voting] were it not an issue of RACE!

I am sick to my stomach.

My worst fears are coming true. This is firsthand info from someone I know very well. Not from a second or third party. She saw this with her own eyes.

More than a few people I know are excited about Making History. They are preserving thoughts and memories so that if Obama is elected they can share that monumental moment with their children when they get older.

Unfortunately, for many of us, this election may go down in history as a moment when someone was voted into office for the color of their skin not for ideals, morals, values or experience. It will be known as a time when the presidency was a "Popularity Contest", when the popular candidate won over the best candidate.

It will be known as a time when the fabric of our country was ripped to shreds.

Racism will get worse. It will. The resentment in this country will grow to epic proportions.

It's a slippery slope and I'm not ready for the ride.

The obligatory "100 things"

In keeping with bloggy tradition here is my “100 Things About Me” list. It might explain some of the stuff you read here every once in a while.

Might.

(No promises.)

1. I’m from a small town in Northern California.
2. I am the youngest of two.
3. My family had a red VW bus.
4. We went camping a lot.
5. And traveled Europe.
6. Also in a VW van.
7. I’m a Gemini.
8. My favorite color is red.
9. My nickname in Jr. High was “Hollywood.”
10. In 8th grade I was voted “Most Likely To Be A Solid Gold Dancer.”
11. I was proud of this honor.
12. I’ve always been very social.
13. I went to nine proms.
14. I *did not* put out.
15. I kept all the corsages.
16. I never took the SAT.
17. I was very good at soccer but chose dance instead.
18. I was a cheerleader.
19. I sang in a band.
20. We called ourselves, “Rapid Fire!”
21. We weren’t very good.
22. But we did awesome Pat Benatar covers.
23. I was the only freshman in the high school talent show.
24. My first rock concert was the B-52’s.
25. I broke my toe while slam dancing to “Rock Lobster.”
26. It was totally worth it.
27. My high school drama teacher told me that I didn’t have any talent.
28. I sent her a thank you note after I got accepted to the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York City.
29. My nickname in college was “Gidget.”
30. I lived near the beach and went nearly every day.
31. We used to bring kegs home on my skateboard.
32. I once fell asleep while riding my bike to work.
33. I worked at a coffeehouse in college and had to bake muffins at 5 a.m.
34. I think I was still drunk.
35. I fell out of a two-story window.
36. And only received 5 stitches.
37. I think I was still drunk.
38. I was on “The Dating Game.”
39. I won.
40. The prize was a trip to Xtapa, Mexico.
41. I went on the trip but ditched the date and stayed for 3 weeks.
42. I attended the Academy Awards in 1986.
43. Bette Davis was awarded the Lifetime Achievement Oscar that same year.
44. Bette Davis is my all-time, hands-down favorite actress.
45. I own Bette Davis’ brass headboard.
46. I bought it at her estate auction while living in NYC.
47. My roommate and I brought it home on the subway.
48. After that purchase I ate Top Ramen and beans for nearly a month.
49. I once passed out from dehydration while in the middle of a play.
50. I was playing Cinderella.
51. I got a standing ovation.
52. I have tattoos.
53. One of them is on top of the other.
54. I had a pierced nose.
55. And a pierced belly button.
56. I’ve had many jobs.
57. I used to sell digital printing services.
58. And manage an eclectic restaurant.
59. And run a flower stand.
60. And for a little bit I sold beach glass jewelry at craft fairs.
61. And I had a great run as an actress.
62. I got my first acting job when I was 9.
63. My longest career has been in public relations.
64. I’ve done that for 13 years.
65. I worked for the agency that launched the iMac, Yahoo! and Pixar during the dot com heyday.
66. It was awesome.
67. We didn’t know that we were making history.
68. I married my husband nearly 11 years after we first met.
69. His nickname back then was “Malibu.”
70. We call him “Danger Dad” now.
71. We met while I was performing in a show in Galveston, TX.
72. He was my boss.
73. He had no idea what he was getting in to.
74. *I* had no idea what I was getting in to.
75. We took a 4 year break.
76. It was fun but I missed him.
77. We got married less than one year after we started dating again.
78. We’ve been married for 9 years.
79. Some people say that we look alike.
80. I used to climb rocks. Big rocks.
81. I’ve climbed in the ‘Gunks, all over Northern and Southern California, Texas and many places in between.
82. We have a climbing wall in our basement.
83. I’m a self-professed Foodie even though I hate the word “Foodie.”
84. I’m a recipe tester for Cook’s Illustrated magazine.
85. We spent two weeks with Tony Robbins in Hawaii. THAT Tony Robbins.
86. He’s a giant weirdo.
87. I’ve spent some time with BB King on his tour bus.
88. He’s awesome.
89. I read the obits every Wed.-Sun.
90. I do a crossword every day.
91. I always knew that I would have twins.
92. My grandmother is a twin.
93. My maternal grandmother has twin brothers.
94. My cousin has triplets.
95. My nephews are twins.
96. I am surrounded by twins.
97. I co-founded the Parents of Multiples Club in my city.
98. We have about 130 paid families with at least 2 new families joining every week.
99. I tandem breast-fed my twins.
100. It was a freak show.
101. But totally worth it.
102. I worry about being a good mom.
103. I’m just now realizing that there are way more than 100 things to list so I’m going to list 110 things.
104. I thought I would have at least five children.
105. I want my children to have an awesome childhood.
105. And overall awesome *life.*
106. I am certain that I could kill someone with my bare hands if they ever laid a finger on either of my children.
107. I hope to be my children's friend some day.
108. I really love being a mom. It's magic.
109. It's the hardest thing I have EVER done.
110. I want to make a difference. (That's kind a trite way to end this but it's true.)

What are your 100 things... (or maybe your Top Ten...?)

Terrified

(I am almost certain that I will lose some readers with this post.)

I am terrified that:

…some will vote along color lines. And use color as their only deciding factor.

…people are voting with their emotions instead of their brains.

… some Americans are more concerned with “making history” than making a good decision for the country.

… most are cutting off their noses to spite their face.

… some Americans are so fed up with the Republican party that they will choose the opposite candidate just to make a point.

…most don’t know the issues, won’t find out the facts and are choosing not to listen to all sides because it’s not the popular thing to do.

…people have shut down. And are becoming sheep.

…most don’t even know what “change” means.

…most are afraid to speak up.

…a person that doesn’t value human life will get elected.

…feminists refuse to applaud or even recognize a woman that was made from a mold that they created and fought for. (Self-made, educated person from middle-class family that has a long-term marriage, mom to 5 [including one with special needs] who has kept her sense of humor and looks… Capable, smart and willing to serve… I don’t get it…)

…that the vitriolic and hateful comments that are being slung these days are going to continue for some time. Maybe four more years.

...peace, love and understanding will become things of the past.

(Stepping off soap box now.)

Alone Together

Reason #443 that (according to the experts) I’m a bad parent:

I don’t have a lot of one-on-one time with S & J.

I try my darndest but with twins it’s extra hard. And my lack of time management or priorities or problem-solving or whatever stops me up and I’m lucky if I have 30 minutes a week of “just you” time with each kid.

Experts say that spending time one-on-one with twins will foster a sense of true identity (for the kid, not me) and insure that they know that they “matter.” That they’re just not one of a pair, but an individual. Experts say this is VITAL. And some suggest putting one of your twins in day care just so you can find time to spend one-on-one with the other twin.

Huh.

Really? Is so important that you should pay to send one of your children away?

Here’s the thing: I hang out with my kids all day and like to think that I know them pretty well. Aside from the few hours a week that I have a mommy’s helper so I can hit deadlines and have a conference call or two I’m full-on hands-on. 12 hours a day. And I don't believe that they’re suffering. Or less individualistic. In fact, they couldn’t be more different.

S is sweet and cautious. He is content to play alone or in a group. In playgroup settings he’ll watch the action at first and engage when others ask him to play. He’s not the instigator. He learned the ABC song in less than a week and loves all things having to do with construction and building. (“What do you want to be for Halloween?” “AN EXCAVATOR!”) We affectionately call him Funky Buns, Belly Boy and Sammo.

J is bold – she loves noise and color and action and people. She always has. She needs about .2 seconds of warm-up time with a new person than she’s crawling up in their lap, reading stories, engaging them in play… She is vocal and loud and full of sparkly, good energy. Her nicknames have included Aggro-Pixie and Little Lady Ka-Boom!

Sure. Spending one-on-one time with a parent is much more that creating a truer sense of self. It let’s them have undivided attention, which is a real gift, especially if you are clambering for the attention of a busy parent.

But us twin parent folks shouldn’t beat ourselves up if the one-on-one time is limited. Our children only suffer if we don’t love them or if we treat them like they aren't loved. I don’t know one single parent of multiples that doesn't absolutely smother their kids with love and affection. And attention. Even if that only happens when the kiddos are together.

The net-net is that all parents do the best they can with the tools that they have. I think it's a massive gift - for both parents and children - to have a two-fer situation.

Mommy Wars

Facebook has always seemed pretty benign to me.

Until a friend posted this link from the Wall St. Journal on her page and all hell broke loose.

Should children be put in pre-school or daycare? Is it helpful or harmful?

The conversations that followed bordered on vitriolic. And definitely veered off-topic.

A conversation weighing the pros and cons of daycare/pre-school became, "Are you less of a mom if you put your kids in pre-school or daycare? Is that the best decision for your children?"

Working moms vs. Stay–at-Home moms. The Mommy Wars are alive and well.

I had a Director-level job before S & J. I had a very successful 13-year career in a field that I loved. But it never occurred to me that I would continue working outside the home when I had babies. Never. I always knew that my new job would be “mom” and I would treat that new position with as much gusto, commitment and creativity as I did previous jobs.

But I know that most working moms really struggle with this. And feel guilty and sometimes angry and so, so torn over making the decision to work outside the home, especially in the early years. And then feel the need to defend their decision. In fact, those defenses seem to always be up and ready to rumble.

At times I’ve been tempted to defend mine.

Former colleagues have questioned why I went to college or worked so hard at my career if I was “just going to be a mom.”

Ouch. JUST be a mom.

Incredulous tone: “How could I stay home with the kids all day? Don’t I miss being in the outside world? Don’t I miss making a difference?!”

Then it dawned on me that they just don’t get it. There is no malice involved. And I don’t defend my choice. There is no need.

If I am pressed to respond I just say that I couldn’t imagine it any other way.

Guilty Winner

Most days I feel guilty for having it so good.

Some nights when I'm having trouble sleeping I lie in bed and compose future blog topics. I always come back to “Lottery Winner” because that’s how I feel nearly all the time.

Yes, I have bad days. Really bad days. Some days that are too dark to explain and jumping off a building seems to be a good fix. But they are rare. So rare that I feel guilty for being so thankful. So rare that I don’t want to share with the other Stepford moms just how good I have it.

So rare that I keep it a secret.

But it’s true. Everyday I feel like I’ve won the flippin’ lottery.

I have two robust and healthy not-so-much-babies-anymore kiddos that are funny and smart and engaged and active and a wee bit precocious. A husband who’s loved me for 18 years. (Even when earlier on I tried to push him away and most certainly didn’t deserve his attention or admiration.) I live in a beautiful house with lots of space and light and green and creative stuff all around. I live a stone’s throw from a big city that has a world-class symphony, cutting edge art museum, ginormous aquarium, great, interesting food and loads of diversity coming out its ears. I live near the busiest airport in the world. I can drive 15 minutes and go anywhere on the planet. Did I mention my kids?!?!?

Maybe I feel guilty because I have it so good.

Is everything perfect? No.

I deeply long to be back in CA. My gills are drying up. I ache to be near family-friends and to raise my kids with theirs. I mourn the time I am missing with my Alzheimer-riddled grandmother.

But I have it so good. I always come back to how good I have it.

I can long and ache for a different geographic location but nothing will take away from the lottery winnings I enjoy now.

Open letter

Running errands is not considered "me" time.

'nuf said.

I'm sick of tired

I want to believe that one day I will be fully rested.

I want to believe that one day I will sleep until I wake up, not sleep until I am woken up. (Mommy, mommy, MOMMY! All done, all done, ALL DONE!)

I want to believe that my current State of Exhaustion will only make me stronger.

I love being a full-time mom. But the truth is that I’m tired. All the time. Pre-kiddos I was a world-class night-owl-social-whirligig. I loved the color, nightlife, music, noise, art of being out and about at openings and concerts and such. I stayed out late and slept in late. I laugh at that now. HA. (yawn.)

This a.m. Danger Dad took the kids to the pool so that I could work on a recently assigned article for the paper. The house is empty and quiet and all I want to do it curl up in my beautiful, comfy, down-comforter-in-the-summer-cozy bed and sleeeeep. But I can’t. And I wouldn’t even if I could. It would be too much of a tease. I would lay there and think about all the stuff I should be doing. The above-mentioned article, laundry, breakfast clean-up, make beds, water plants, lunch prep, laundry, cultivating more freelance work, multiples club management, laundry…

People tell me that I do too much and that I should slow down. I don’t know what that means. My level of activity seems normal to me. I would be bored if it were any other way. But maybe I would be rested? Bored and rested vs. active and tired. Those are my choices? Crap.

I also hear that I (all moms, really) need to find balance. WTF? I want to scream at those people, “People, try to find balance when two fabulous but very very very needy toddler munchkins are wanting attention and food and READ THIS!, ART NOW MOMMY! and PLAY BALL! and LET’S GO POOL !” Pair that with the fact that I need to take as much freelance work as possible now because the economy is in the absolute shitter and it’s helpful if I can at least cover some of the groceries... And gas. Add in that I co-founded a parents of multiples club last year and although it’s wildly successful with at least 3 new paid families each week and a spankin’ new board it still needs some care and feeding so I took on a VP position this year. While we’re at it we can throw in that I’m starting a new business so that I can finally start building the empire. (I love my freelance work but sometimes I want to be the boss, make sense?) And I regularly bring meals to all the new moms in my Stepford suburb. And I help friends paint their new 4th grade classroom because they need me and I love them. And I make all of our food fresh because I love my family more than anything and I want to make sure that their bods and minds are growing in the best possible way.

O.k., maybe I am too busy.

But that’s who I am. And these days being tired is who I am too.

So I suppose I’m choosing active and tired over rested and bored.

Must run. I've gots stuff to do...

Bye-Bye Bag

I retired the diaper bag yesterday.

Not because my kiddos are finally potty-trained. Lawdy no. We’re still very Diaperrific around here. I retired it because I think it’s TIME. It’s TIME for me to carry a real handbag. Something without 20 pockets or an insulated area for a bottle.

For going on 2.5 years I’ve been totin’ around a small, black, rip-stop canvas/nylon/NASA material-type Lands End “Little Tripper” diaper bag. (Yeah, LANDS END. Snicker away, people…) Everyone told me that it was too small and that it would never hold ALL THE STUFF I was going to need for twins. They were wrong. It rose beautifully to its Tour of Duty. Turns out I didn’t need much. Two diapers, some wipes and, well, not much else. Not once did I experience a super pooper blow-out where I’d need of a change of clothes for one of the kiddos. Not once did I need more than one diaper during an outing. Not once. It’s been perfect.

Unfortunately, now I think experiencing the Seven Stages of Grief:

Shock or Disbelief – am I really ready to retire this bag?

Denial – there’s noooo way my kiddos are old enough for me to retire this bag.

Bargaining – maybe I can still use it? All those pockets… Very, very useful…

Guilt – it’s been so good to me.. holding those diapers and all… it’s still in great shape…

Anger – I don’t need this stinkin’ bag. It’s a DIAPER BAG. Must. Get. Rid. Of. It.

Depression – There’ll never be another bag that truly fits all my needs. I’m doomed to wander around Marshall’s forever trying to find the perfect bag… Crud…

Acceptance and Hope – I can do this. I can move beyond the diaper bag.

So, because it’s TIME, I traded it out for a fun, bright red purse with a shiny patent leather strap. Super sassy. The new model. Since I hit a big age milestone recently I’ve been thinking a lot about the new model. Just because something is a little worn out although still very useful do you get rid of it or banish it to the back of the closet? Not always. But sometimes you have to move on and sometimes the newer model helps you do that.

I think I’ll keep the Little Tripper around. I just can’t throw it out. It may come in handy again some day soon.

Mother Superior

Danger Dad barely said it.

“Underachiever.”

Our traveling circus of twin-life had just spied a dad with a single baby in a stroller.

I know DD didn’t mean it as a slam on dad-with-singleton, he meant it as comic relief for me. Since pretty much our first month with our twin kiddos, singleton parents have been known as “Underachievers.” I forget when the term was first coined. Probably after 52 hours with no sleep then getting a phone call from a singleton parent friend who wanted to vent about lack of shut-eye. Underachiever. After all, they ONLY had one baby at a time.

I’ll say it: Sometimes (o.k., most of the time, please accept my apology now) I feel superior to singleton parents. I can't help myself. I’m not bragging that I’m Super Mom or anything, but I do feel that if singleton parents had ANY idea what my day brings they might think twice about their lot in life. I see singleton parents rushing around, looking really stressed and seemingly asking me to understand... I can't. It's different for me. This may be one case in life when a blanket statement can be made:

Twins are harder than single babies. It’s just a fact. At least from 0-18 months.

Case in point: Double breastfeeding. Try it. It’s a frickin’ carnival act. We should have charged money for people to watch.

I'm certainly not discounting all the hard work it takes to be a singleton parent. No way. Parenting is a tough job. Really tough. We all deserve Medals of Valor or Purple Hearts or some such however it's hard to listen to singleton parents talk about being tired, stretched too thin, etc. Please, people. You really have no idea.

That being said, I think that twin toddlers may be easier than singleton toddlers. For one thing, they have an instant play-mate/play-date. I can’t imagine having to schedule play dates on a regular basis or introduce a new baby to a “King-of-the-Hill” toddler that DOES NOT want to share the Mommy.

So when we see singleton parents out DD and I nudge each other and just barely say... "Underachiever.”

We mean it in the nicest way.

Hey twin moms and dads... Do you feel superior? Share your story of superiority…

Pants on Fire

I have a confession.

I lie “up.”

Generally when folks lie about their age they lie “down” and say they’re younger than they really are. I lie “up.” Last night I was 46. (Tomorrow I might try 49 on for size just to see if I can get away with it.) A friend from my actress-in-New-York days recently reminded me that I’ve been doing this since I was about 21. He said he once heard me tell someone that I was 30. (I was 22 at the time.) Somehow this has gotten to be a fun little habit. (Kind of like assuming a different identity while on a cruise or long airplane ride. I was a lottery winner from Texas once.) I don’t exactly know why I do it. Perhaps because it’s fun to see how people react. Perhaps because I'm a little scared that if I tell folks my real age they may say something along the lines of, "You know, 40 is the new 30." (Yeah, until you are actually 40 and it feels like 50.) I always ‘fess up if caught, which almost never happens. It usually goes something like this:

Them: So, how old are you?

Me: 46

Them: Really?!?! 46?

Me: Yup. 4. 6.

Them: 46? You look gooood for 46. You can’t be 46.

Me: O.k., I’m not.

Them: You’re not?

Me: You just said I’m not.

You: Wow. I hope I look that good when I’m 46.

Me too.

Abundant Gratitude

My problems today:

- I’m supposed to attend a party tonight and none of my “nice” clothes fit. I’ve gone down 3 sizes since the kids were born.

- I have no idea where my playgroup is meeting.

I am feeling thankful for my awesome life.