Questions and Realizations

The topic of conversation broached at bedtime tonight: rib cages.

Colby: "Mom, do all animals only have one rib cage?"
Mom: "Uh, yeah.  I think so."
Quinn: "And people, too?"
Mom: "Yes.  Unless, I guess, you're a Siamese twin."
Quinn and Colby: "WHAT'S a Siamese twin????"
Mom: "When two people are hooked together.  There might be two heads, two rib cages, but only two legs that they share.  Something like that."
Quinn: "That wouldn't be very fun."
Mom: "Well, sometimes doctors can do surgery to separate them."
Colby: "They cut their LEGS OFF?!?!  That would hurt!!!"
Quinn: "I was just thinking the same thing! "
Colby: "They use a knife?!??!?!"
Quinn: "How do people get stuck together?"
Mom: "Well, this is the crazy part.  They started out really really small in their mommy's belly as ONE PERSON, and they just didn't split all the way apart."

And that's when it hit me.  Quinn and Colby used to be ONE PERSON.  They are so different now, such distinct souls, that I never really stopped to think about that before.   I mean - I know the biology of identical twins, but when I stopped to think of my two wholly separate boys being ONE --- that kind of blew my mind.  I remember reading that when identical twins are dichorionic and monoamniotic, as mine were (sharing a placenta), it means that the original blastocyst split somewhat later than those with two placentas.  So, for anywhere between 4 to 8 days after conception, I had one baby.  I had a "Quinby".  And then there were two.  It's still blowing my mind, a full 2 hours later.  Eight days of being ONE.  Craziness.

No WONDER those boys are stuck like glue to each other.  Holy cow!

It's also making me wonder about Reagan, who was also an identical twin for the first 9 weeks of her existence.  She's one person, but for a few days, she was MORE of one person.  Not that she's half of one person now, but... just... okay.  I'm thinking too much about this.

How'd this subject evolve from a discussion on rib cages?

Called On the Carpet

My kids called me out on the "living love" thing today, which is funny, because I was just talking to my sister about this very topic.  See, the single purpose of today was to clean the boys' bedroom.  There was not another  task on the agenda for the entire day for two short men.  The boys were in their room from 10 am til 5:30 pm, leaving only for lunch, and the room STILL did not get clean.  GRRRRRRR.  As I tucked them in tonight, I have to admit that I was more than a little gruff.  I told them that I didn't want to see their faces tomorrow until that room was spotless.   There would be no breakfast until it was finally CLEAN.

Colby looked at me and said "Mom, do you even love us?"

Mom:  "Of course, I do, Colby."

Quinn: "Well, you're sure not acting like it right now."

Mom (speechless)

UGH. SHEESH. Mom the SCHMUCK. 

I sometimes forget to see myself through little eyes.  The view is not always pretty.  I really needed that call on the carpet. 

I immediately softened my tone, and switched tactics.  After prayers, tuck-ins and kisses,  I promised ice cream for breakfast if I see a clean room before noon.  The yelling and threatening obviously failed miserably for the length of an entire business day.  We'll see what a little soft tone and positive reinforcement does.  At the very least it will make me feel less Mommy-Dearest.

Keeping Score

Pouring Colby a glass of juice at lunch time, I got distracted, and the juice spilled over.

Mom: "Watch it, buddy.  I filled it really full.  See, it spilled on the table."
Colby: "WOW.  That's the 10th time Mom's ever made a mistake."

:)

Ever???  I'm doing pretty dang good, aren't I?

The Worst Day of His Life

If you've read yesterday's entry on our family blog, you heard that by making the boys come inside last night, I instigated the WORST day of Quinn's life.  I kind of chuckled about it at the time, but he persisted today in saying how terrible yesterday was, and not just because I wouldn't let them sleep outside on the swing.  There were, apparently, two other horrific occurences that made yesterday worthy of being deemed the WORST.   That bothered me.  WHAT happened?!?!?!  What was so awful???  Quinn wasn't saying.  He just hinted, and sulked, and moped. 

Mom: "Buddy, you can tell me anything, you know that right?  What was so bad yesterday?"
Quinn: "Nothing.  I don't want to say."
Mom: "Did somebody yell at you?"
Quinn: "No.  Well, you did, when you told us to come inside.  But that wasn't the only reason."
Mom: "What else?  Did something happen at church?  Did you feel bad for hurting your sister?  Did you get in a fight with Colby?"
Quinn: "NO.  I don't want to tell you."
Dad: "Take it from me, Quinn.  She will NOT let up until you tell her what's wrong."
Quinn: "Fine.  It was when Grandma and Grandpa were here for dinner."
Mom: "What?  I don't remember anything bad happening."
Quinn: "I wanted an orange popscicle, and you made me take the grape one.  I didn't WANT the grape one."
Mom and Dad: "HA HA HA HA.  REALLY?!?"
Quinn: "I knew that's how you'd act.  That's why I didn't want to tell you."
Mom (trying to keep a straight face): "OK.  I'm sorry I FORCED a grape popsicle on you.  That is what made it the worst day of your entire LIFE?"
Quinn: "Well, there was one more thing, too.  I just can't remember it right now."
Good Grief. 
Quinn: "I guess it wasn't the absolute worst day.  I've had worse.  But it was pretty bad."

And again, I say.... it will get worse, my son.  I guarantee it.

Stealth Photos

I have to sneak up on the boys to take pictures these days. And I can't seem to keep clothes on them.  None of them.  It drives me crazy, but I can either spend every waking moment hounding them, or let it go and choose my battles.  At least it means less laundry for me, right??? 

Mommy Colby Time

It's those small, everyday moments that I know are going to fade into vague inklings as the kids get older.  But they are precious, and while they're happening, I always want to burn them in to my memory, because I know how quickly they're forgotten, since it wasn't an event,  or an exciting location, or wasn't some big deal.  That's why this blog is a blessing to me.  It allows me to capture and hold these cherished gems securely to my chest, to take out and smile at in days to come.  I don't want them to disappear and be forgotten.  I want them to STAY with me, even though the children  who created them will grow and change and someday be gone.

Colby woke up early.  Mommy woke up early.  The sun was shining, it was a gorgeous morning.  So we got dressed and went for a walk, just the two of us.  That's it.  Just Colby and Mom, walking down the road, talking about how much the sunrise looks like the sunset, and admiring the gorgeous flowers, and picking a bouquet for the table.  And Colby laughing about how Dad and Quinn were going to be so surprised to wake up and find us not there in the house like we usually were.  Colby picking a daisy for my hair, and a buttercup to put behind his own ear.  Colby holding my hand as we walked - I don't know how much longer he'll want to hold my hand, the big seven year old boy.  But for now, in the quiet of the morning, while no one else is around... it's okay.  And me marvelling around at all the different types of wildflowers, and Colby being impressed at God's creativity. 

Nothing big.  Nothing eventful.  Just a sweet, fluttery moment that will wisp away like a butterfly in the wind, unless I write it down to anchor it here. 

Some moments are like a prayer, I think.  Living a prayer.

Things That Make the Boys Go EWWWWWW

Last night at dinner -
Quinn, Colby and Reagan: "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!  SCREECH!  HEE HEE!  BURP! WAAAAHHHHHHHH"  You get the picture.  General chaos, with tantrums and fighting mixed in for good measure.

Mom: "I think Daddy and I need a DATE.  Just the two of us.  With NO KIDS."
Dad: "Maybe even a long date.  Like a TRIP!"
Colby: "EWWWW!  GROSS!"
Mom: "Gross?  Why is a date gross?"
Colby: "Because all you do is kiss around and stuff, and fall in love!"
Dad: "Believe it or not, Mom and I used to kiss all the time.  And go on dates."
Quinn: "NUH-UNH!"
Dad: "Yes we did."
Mom: "Like this, see!" (Stands up and gives Dad a big ol' smooch)
Quinn and Colby: "EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW."
Mom: "Dad, let's take a BIG date and go to Europe!!"
Colby and Quinn: "YEAH!  I want to go to Europe!"
Dad: "No - just Mom and I.  That's what a date is. No kids."


Later, long after the boys were supposed to be asleep in bed, as Rob and I were in the basement working out, Quinn slinked down the stairs, a book about castles in hand.

Mom: "Why are you not in bed?"
Quinn: "I have to tell you something.  There are over 3000 castles in Europe.  I'm going with you."

I WISH we were really going to Europe.  I really really do.  I have a sneaking suspicion that Mom and Dad's big date just might be  watching TV together after the kids are in bed.

Things I Don't Want to Explain

The whole conversation started on our way to Vacation Bible School, when we saw a Mama and baby deer.  Quinn asked why some people hunt deer.

Mom: "Some people eat them."
Quinn: "They DO? Why?"
Mom: "They think deer meat tastes good."
Colby: "Like pigs."
Quinn: "And cows.  And turkeys. And chickens."
Mom: "Yup."
Colby: "But first they have to cut the chicken open to get the eggs out, before we eat them."
Mom: "No.  There are laying hens that lay eggs.  And then there are eating hens"
Colby: "Well, then, how does the egg get out of the chicken, if it isn't cut out?"

In my head I said "they kinda poop them out", but I didn't want to go there with my boys.  They'd never eat an egg again.  I didn't answer the question, and luckily, they had a different question right afterwards, and forgot the first.

Quinn: "If a chicken sits on an egg long enough, a baby chick will hatch out of it."
Colby: "So, we're eating baby chickens when we eat eggs?"
Mom: "No.  There's only a baby chicken in it if there's a rooster around.  Otherwise, it's just a plain ol' egg."
Quinn: "What does the rooster have to do with it?"
Mom: "Well, if there's a mommy and a daddy, then the baby chick will be born."
Quinn: "I don't get it.  How does the egg know if there's a dad around?"
Mom: "UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  Well..........  uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh........  the baby chick is a little bit of the mommy and a little bit of the daddy.  So the daddy has to leave a little bit of himself in the egg, and then the chick is born."  I was kind of proud of this vague but accurate answer.  But the stinker would NOT let it go.
Quinn: "So, what part of the daddy does he leave behind????"
Mom: "UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Quinn (relieving me of a very uncomfortable moment): "I KNOW!!  He takes one of his feathers and tickles the egg with it, and it turns into a chick!!!"
Colby: "HEEE HEEE HEEE"

I let it lie.  I'm not mentally prepared to refute that at this point.

Reagan: "Mommy. Daddy.  Egg.  Chicken."  Oh great.  Even the two year old is learning the birds and the bees.

Quinn: "How'd we get on all this chicken talk anyway???"
Mom: "I DON'T KNOW!"
Quinn: "I think Colby started it!"
Mom: "Yup.  Colby, I think you did."

Listening Skills

I've started reading the kids "The Last Unicorn" by Peter Beagle.  They like chapter books, but prefer a few illustrations now and then, and this book doesn't have any.  Instead of sitting quietly on the bed during story time, they were  jumping from bed to bed, throwing stuffed animals, climbing on their desk, teasing their sister.

Mom: "That's it, boys.   I'm done.  If you're not going to listen, I'm not going to read."
Quinn: "We WERE listening!!"
Mom: "No you weren't.  You were jumping around, goofing off!"
Colby: "We were listening, Mom.  Ask us anything."
Mom: "Allright.  What's the name of the carnival?"
Colby: "Mommy Fortuna's!  Creatures of the night brought to light!"
Mom: "OK.  Lucky guess.  What's the name of the magician?"
Quinn: "Schmen....Schnen... something."
Mom: "Schmendrick. Fine.  Well, what's the last thing I read?"
Colby: "A dragon has the insides of a furnace, but the outside is ice cold!"

HUH.  Those turkeys.  How could they possibly be listening so closely, when they're shrieking and bouncing off the walls??  It gives me hope that they're retaining something when they're at school, despite the frequent reports of squiggliness!!!

The Neverending Room Clean Up

The boys have been up in their room for the past three and a half hours, ostensibly "cleaning it".  I went up there to check just a few minutes ago, and it was still a pig sty. 

Mom: "BOYS!  It's still filthy in here!"
Q&C: "No it's not!  It's clean!"
Mom: "There's books, toys and dirty clothes all over the floor, and your beds aren't made!"
Q&C: "It looks clean to us!  We're not babies, you know."
Mom: "I assure you, it is NOT clean.  Clean means that I can see the floor.  If you would like to go to the Strawberry Festival Parade on Saturday, you had better get this room clean TODAY.  Otherwise, you will spend your birthday cleaning your room."
Colby: "Who cares, Mom.  There's hardly any candy at the Strawberry Festival Parade anyways!"
Quinn: "And if we don't have a birthday party, we'll not turn seven, and stay six another year!"
Mom: "That can be arranged.  And you need to stop being sassy, and get to cleaning your room.  I am sick and tired of the sassiness."
Colby: "We're only sassy on Thursdays.  It's our new thing.  Sassy Thursdays."
Quinn: "If I roll my eyes at you, will that make you sick, too?"

It took every ounce of my being not to laugh at their sassiness.  I have to admit, those are some pretty good comebacks.  But if I give an inch, they will NEVER clean their rooms.  And backtalk cannot be tolerated.  I am in so much trouble.  If it's this bad at seven, what will it be like at seventeen????  I shudder at the thought.