"POST SOMETHING" is the exact demand I received from my sister.
I know, I know... I haven't kept up with my blog.
Where have I been, you ask?
I've been scanning family and high school photos.
During this summer, I've scanned almost 2,000 high school negatives.
Yeah.
I've found gems of my best friends:
I've also found great old family shots (who gives a baby a cigar? MY family)
And a few great early shots of my husband (I would say, "pre-gray hair", but he still doesn't have any). Look how cute he is! I really dated him for his awesome sense of humor and sweetness... the good looks were a bonus.
I've also transitioned into a few other rolls this summer. As of this Friday, my roll as "Room Mom" at the daycare is over (yay!). I've added Big-Sis coordinator to my Mothers of Multiples responsibilities, which also include "Web Mistress" (a title I enjoy more than the job).
So, it isn't that my blog has been ignored... it is that I'm trying to prioritize.
Why am I updating now?
My scanner is broken.
I believe that after 6,000+ scanned images, I've finally burned out the bulb...which is shockingly difficult to replace.
With that, I'll promise more updates on the girls and our adventures... until I get the scanner working, again.
I mean, who wouldn't want to see more of THIS?!
I clearly haven't had time to post about our Epic Family Trip to Destin, the Shuttle Launch and Disney World. The post will be fanTAStic... when I have time to write it.
For now, please enjoy an overview of our visit to Magic Kingdom given by the girls after a long, long day. (Video taken from the iiiitty bitty little Disney hotel room...)
It occurred to me the other morning that my life is in a constant state of lower standards. I’m not complaining, mind you. This is just an observation. It has probably made me a happier person (not that being happy was ever a problem for me)… but still.
For example, I remember a time in my marriage when I would be genuinely annoyed with my husband for the WAY he folded towels. “You’re 30+ years old, fortheloveofgod,” I would complain. “You can’t take two sides of a towel and fold them together? Seriously?!”
I controlled all aspects of organization and towel folding. I can’t tolerate incompetence in my closets.
Flash forward 4 years and 2 children later:The other morning, I opened the bathroom closet to get a towel and saw all of our towels (for the ENTIRE house, mind you… not just for this particular bathroom) jammed into and falling off of the shelves. My first thought upon seeing the disaster in the bathroom closet was, “awww… he put away the towels… how sweet!”
Lowered bar.
Happiness.
As a new mom, I constantly lowered the bar of expectations for events, daily activities… sleep. I did not get to take my kids home from the hospital on the day I was discharged. My kids were attached to wires and monitored for breathing.
As a mom to twin 3 year olds, I’m constantly lowering the bar for what we wear and expectations for family outings (“This may not go as planned” is still a mantra in our house).
I’m not saying I accept less from life.
I’m saying that I’m constantly redefining priorities. I don’t let things that don’t mater impact my happiness or stress level. (Ana, you want to wear black boy pants with a pink nightshirt to the store? Ok. Get in the car.)
There are things that are still important to me: Spending time with my girls; healthy, planned family meals; time with my husband; a clean kitchen (I can’t give this up)… you get the idea.
… I’m just noticing this bar can go really, really low. I mean... low.
So, I need to sacrifice the rest of what would have been an AMAZING blog ending to fold laundry.
Life moves by so fast. Sometimes you need to lower the bar, chase the fairies and embrace it all.
We're lingering on the last few hours of January, so I'm officially not too late for my second part of my Christmas post. (I realize that it wasn't a cliff hanger, but surely you must have asked, "What about Keira?")
What about Keira, indeed. We knew what we were going to get the girls for quite awhile. I believe the bikes were purchased a few months early. The bikes were for both girls, but we KNEW that Keira would be the happiest with them.
Keira is funny... she looks like the most dainty little princess on the planet. She is very thin, without muscle tone and she insists on pink skirts and some form of accessory (jewelry or princess shoes)... more to come on that later.
The funny thing is... she is our most adventurous child. She loves to get dirty, play rough and ride bikes. She has zero fear and 100% enthusiasm. I know that one day Keira and Brad will plan massive biking trips to Mexico and the Four Corners. Ana and I might stay home...
I'm getting ahead of myself, though. Here is Keira on her first big girl bike. She is looking past me for the next adventure. I think I'll need parenting training wheels to let her go.
I remember watching my parents on Christmas morning.They stumbled out of bed, questioned if Santa “really came”, and dragged on and on while making coffee.I used to ask them why they rarely got gifts.They said that “they didn’t need it… Christmas was for the children.”
I remember thinking that they were crazy.
And slow.
I mean… Santa came… COME ON, PEOPLE.MOVE IT, MOVE IT, MOVE IT!
On Christmas Eve, I started the girl’s night routine a little early.Brad had a gig on the north side of town, so it was just me and the girls to prep for Santa.We set out a plate of cookies and milk.We also set out a plate of carrots and celery for the reindeer (they do get awfully hungry, you know).
I put the girls down to bed and reviewed the whole “Santa is coming to the house tonight” story with them.
Around 9:30pm, my mom and I set out the gifts.At 10pm, I heard the sounds of drawers opening and closing.
When I went into the girl’s room, the light was on and Ana was getting dressed.
“Ana… baby… what are you doing?”
“Um… Santa came… and left presents!”
“No, baby.It is night time.You can’t get up until the sun comes up.”
Guess who got up when the sun came up?
The girls were both dressed and ready to go when I walked in their room. We looked at all of the gifts under the tree, looked at the stockings and discovered that Santa ate the cookies and drank the milk.
(*Interesting note, here. I sat down to eat the cookies and drink the milk when my mother asked, "Maura, honey... what are you doing? You don't really eat them - put them back in the bag! Pour the milk back into the container." Some remnant of childhood cried out in horror. WHAT? You never DRANK the MILK? I checked the glass! "Maura... I hate milk. I always poured it out."
Son-of-a...)
Back to Christmas morning...
The girls wandered in confusion for awhile as I got my coffee and got things together.
I told them to go wake up their Daddy. I followed up and watched them pounce on Brad and try to lift him with their hands.
"DADDY! Santa came! Get... UP. GET... UP. He left PRESENTS!" (If they knew to follow the sentence up with, "for the LOVE OF GOD" they would have.)
The morning was a nice pace of present opening with the family (Stacia's family, my mom and dad, Diane).
We started with stockings... which contained Ana's new brown monkey (Lightening Bolt Monkey).
Her happiness was amazing. She cuddled with it, held it up, introduced it to Brown Monkey.
It was at this moment when I got it.
I had slam dunked Christmas. I knew Ana would love the monkey. I bought the thing months ago.
But her face.
The absolute happiness.
I struggled to hold back tears.
I failed to hold back tears... although I hid them from everyone.
I was now the keeper of Christmas and all of the mystery of Santa.
I know why my parents didn't get gifts from Santa on Christmas morning.
The gift was seeing our happiness and wonder and excitement.
Today we said goodbye to the cat who set the bar of which all cats will be measured. Chad passed away this morning. It just happened so fast.
I can't- won't - go into details. Even though he was about to turn 17, we didn't see this coming. Chad was still taking down our 3 and 4 year old male cats on an annoyingly regular occasion. I was completely not emotionally prepared for the loss of my baby Chad.
Things I will miss: Chad greeting us at the door or going to the door to greet visitor Chad smacking in my ear when he is happy Chad's bottomless patience with the girls. He let them do anything to him and sought out their attention Seeing Keira run to find Chad every day Having Chad visit me and spend time with me as I got ready every day The morning, afternoon and evening "Worship Chad" routine Just everything about him I will miss our Chad. Many people will. His first mommy was with me today (for that and placing Chad into my life, I will forever be in her debt). His first mommy works in the Astronaut Office. Chad was well known to quite a few astronauts, which made crew debriefs spin into chat about my "fat cat" Chad. She is working on having a memorial for Chad flown on the next shuttle mission, which launches Monday. That makes me so happy. People die every day and my sweet kitty will have a memorial from space. He really was special.
However, right now I sit here empty and broken. Grateful for having had Chad in my life and bitter that he isn't tapping my shoulder while I sit at my computer desk. (Yes... he could reach that high)
I'm going to go upstairs and drown myself in thoughtless television and the comfort of Lt. Kije, who seems to understand more than cats let on. He has known this was coming for awhile. He rolled onto his back to let Chad tackle him a few weeks ago and lovingly cleaned Chad's face two nights ago.
