If You Give Your Kid Your Camera...

If you give your kid your camera,
She'll want to take photos of her new toys.

(Littlest Pet Shop)

And if she takes photos of her toys, why, she'll have to photograph herself as well!

And because she is a princess, she'll want photos of her princess dolls.

And even princesses have to go potty, so she'll photograph the powder room.

(Princesses NEVER forget to flush!)

 Then she will admire herself in the mirror and decide more self portraits are necessary.

Occasionally a silly shot is neccessary to balance out all the fancy photos.

(Oops, the princess *almost* forgot to wash her hands!)

 

Then she went to find her tired sister snoozing on the couch.

That wasn't much fun, but Daddy was doing Jillian Michaels' 30-Day Shred-- Ouch!

 

And Monster was all snuggled up, using a blanket as his bed.

Then the princess decided to go up the stairs...

Where she decided to photograph a photograph of herself.

Buy Local From the Little Shop on the Corner : The Reading Reptile

I love Amazon.com as much as the next gal, but when it comes to quality customer service, attention to detail, and small businesses dedicated to differentiating themselves, I'll happily shop locally. Over the weekend, we did just that by celebrating the girls' fifth birthday at a nearby bookstore called "The Reading Reptile."  While talking with one of the other moms, we agreed it reminds us of the Little Shop on the Corner from the Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks movie "You've Got Mail." Deb, the owner, was in charge of the "Arty Party." Uber-organized and efficient, she'd memorized all the kids' names within a matter of minutes. She read them stories (all sat and listened intently), made clay with them, and then walked everyone through three cool art projects. We finished up with cupcakes the kids got to decorate. A wonderful time was had by all, and it was definitely a memorable morning for Abby & Izzy!

This place is what I imagine Heaven might be like, where characters from mine and my children's best-loved books come alive in paper-mache all over the place (all made by Deb, the crafty and talented owner!):

Olivia the Pig, one of our favorites

Max, King of the Wild Things!

Frog and Toad

We adore Eloise!

 Go Dog, Go!

Lily's Purple Plastic Purse

So my message to you today and this holiday season (and beyond)?

Shop locally.

Go where everybody knows your name (kinda like that theme song from "Cheers").

I don't want to lose places like Reading Reptile that make my city what it is---unique and amazing.

What is your "Little Shop on the Corner?" Do you support your local merchants?



My Little Greenies

If you read me regularly or even just lurk, it should come as no surprise that I am a green gal. I recycle, I compost, I use glass milk bottles (Shatto Dairy), I bring my own bags everywhere, and I dry most of my laundry on a rack. I turn off the tap while I brush my teeth and shave my legs. I shop at Whole Foods and local farmers' markets. Shelly Kramer and I are buying a cow, despite the fact that I'm no longer eating any meat (the rest of my family does). No, he will not be our pet, but he is currently grazing on a local farm eating GRASS (read: not corn) and living the sweet life.

It should also come as no surprise that I am green-ifying my children as well. I bought the girls a copy of Wubbzy Goes Green, and they love it. We talk about a lot of different things: turning off lights when we leave a room, closing the blinds/curtains to keep the house cooler in summer, and using cloth napkins instead of paper at mealtimes (check out cute ones for kids on Etsy!). They know which recycling bin is for glass, which is for plastic, and where to put the newspapers. We've also discussed litter, which really churns my butter because it ends up in places it shouldn't, like our oceans, rivers, and lakes. Deb over at Menopausal New Mom has written about the Pacific Garbage Patch, which was created in part by litter. I often pick up litter while we're on walks and will bring it back home to dispose of it.

While walking Monster (our mini Poodle) with The Father Load one day last week, the girls happened upon some litter in the street.

A plastic bottle, to be exact. Abby immediately picked it up and handed it over to Daddy.

The Father Load said, "Put it down, I'm not carrying that on a walk."

Abby said, "But it's litter, we always pick up litter."

The Father Load replied, "I'm not Mommy, I don't pick up every piece of trash I see on the street."

Izzy piped up and said, "You're not good for the environment, Daddy."

Abby added, "It's time for you to go green, Daddy."

Daddy said, "I'm trying."

Izzy snapped, "You don't try, you just DO."

Abby echoed, "Yeah Daddy, you just DO."

What are you teaching your kids about going green and the environment?

Does Britney Spears Need New Backup Singers? I've Got Some Hopefuls....

I will be very busy this weekend, as I am a bridesmaid in my college BFF's wedding. So I thought I'd leave you with some entertainment, something mindless and hopefully amusing (and SHORT). Did you know that the secret to successful vlogging lies in your brevity? A lot of people don't bother watching them regardless, but you might be more inclined to view this one since I'm not in it and because it's under two minutes long.

Meet Abby and Izzy.

Abby is apparently digging for gold in her ear and also likes to play copycat. Izzy got bonked on the cheek at school I swear I didn't beat her and was trying to floss her teeth with her fingers. Ahhh, the loveliness of four-year-olds....this video was also taken just before bedtime, so they may look slightly glazed over.

Without further adieu, I give you the girls' brief interview, followed by their audition for Britney Spears.

Click here to see the video clip (couldn't get it embedded in here for some reason, grrrrr!).

p.s. For those of you who are clutching your throats in sheer horror and gasping, "She lets her kids listen to Britney? What kind of mother is she?" I'll have you know it's mostly Laurie Berkner, Funky Mama, The Doo Dads, and Mr.Stinky Feet around here. But when I work out and get my Mom Sexy on (go visit The Mommyologist if you have no idea what I'm talking about), I listen to Mommy Music. End of rant.

Wordless Wednesday: Crazy Bird Lady & What Little Jewish Girls Do With Easter Baskets

Just for Ian over at The Daily Dose of Reality, I am participating in Wordless Wednesday, which I don't normally do. Because Ian is a fellow Jew, I know he especially will appreciate photos of my little Jewish darlings at their first Easter Egg Hunt. Our sweet neighbors invited us, and we love to expose the girls to all different religions, holidays, etc...

I made these for some of our neighbors. This is about as crafty as I get, people. I borrowed the idea

from another mommy who brought them as gifts to the teachers at school. So I can't take credit for it.

The neighbors brought us to their country club and they had birds and owls on display! LOVED IT!

Me and Izzy

The Father Load and Izzy

Crazy Bird Lady and Toucan trying to eat her necklace.

One of the birds even rode a bike. The kiddos were completely enamored.

Little Jewish girls don't know what to do with Easter baskets, so they became hats.

The Father Load with Abby on the left and Izzy on the right.

The four of us. Izzy is on the left. Abby is between me & The Father Load.

It is impossible to get everyone to look at the camera all at once.

Happy Go Lucky---and Remembering Those Ducks

Yesterday I was doing some shopping for Shortmama's Spring Swap, and of course I also found a little something for myself--an inspiring set of earrings from one of my favorite stores, Stuff. I love Stuff because it features the work of local artists, sells lots of environmentally-friendly, or "green" things, and there are always plenty of unique gifts to choose from.

(it may be hard to see, but the top one reads "lucky" and the bottom one reads "happy.")

I splurged on these as a reminder, because sometimes I get so bogged down by the daily grind that I forget how lucky I am.

This time of year the grass is getting greener, the birds begin singing their sweet songs again, and our allergies turn us into snotty, sneezy fools. And I'm reminded of the ducks that befriended me in late March of 2005.

One day while I was getting a drink in the kitchen, I heard some quacking coming from my front door. I thought I was simply delusional from all the fertility drugs coursing through my veins. But I looked out the window and sure enough, saw this pair cruising my front yard:

They let me get close and feed them by the 2nd day (I'd prepared with lots of cheap Wonderbread just in case).

We don't have the photos to prove it, but they also later ate the bread right out of my hand...

(I look like total crap, but in my defense I was going through a lot and was in a funk)

These ducks were the only reason I got out of bed every day during the last week of March, 2005. It was the end of the road---our second round of IVF (in-vitro fertilization). I was convinced that like all the other things we'd tried before, it was going to fail. But the ducks kept coming back each morning. I concluded that they were a couple, a male and a female, and sure enough I discovered their nest nearby with several eggs inside.

These ducks were sent to me. We needed each other. We needed hope. Just as they were foraging for food and tending to their eggs, my own little embryos were growing in a Petri dish in the lab:

Those ducks kept me alive that week. I looked forward to their visits and waited anxiously for them each morning. They didn't disappoint. I talked to them, told them about my fears in low whispers while they gobbled the hunks of bread from my hands. Their dark, probing eyes consoled me while tears dripped down my cheeks. They quacked that things were going to be alright. They embraced me so easily and so fully that I began to feel my dream of becoming a mother was just within my reach.

Then we got the happy call from the embryologist that we were ready to go. My doctor transferred two really good lookin' embryos to my uterus. And during my mandatory bed rest afterwards, my mom (who flew into town to make sure I remained horizontal) faithfully fed my ducks for me.

About 18 weeks later I looked like this:

And now we have these (pictured with The Father Load):

We are indeed happy. And lucky.

Wordless Weekend

We got back from our trip to New Orleans in just enough time to play in the 7 or 8 inches of fresh snow. Mommy doesn't own a snow suit, so she was the designated photographer. The girls shoveled, made snow angels, and tried to bury Daddy in the snow.

Izzy was very excited to make her first snow angel.

In some spots, the snow was really deep!!

Thank goodness Daddy knows how to work the snowblower! Hooray!

What's so special about today? It's my girls' birthday! And do you wanna see my boggy uterus?

Happy Birthday, Abby & Izzy!

This is our very first photo of the girls. It's a view of them as blastocysts under a microscope. This is perhaps the only time in our lives we haven't been able to tell them apart. This photo was taken right before I officially conceived my daughters, although technically speaking they were conceived in a Petri dish in the lab. They are my little miracles.

I have PCOS, or Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. This basically means I don't ovulate, and therefore it was impossible for me to get pregnant without the assistance of a reproductive endocrinologist. You may recall reading about some of what I went through to get pregnant (my first TMI Thursday post: read it here) . All I ever wanted to be in life was a mother. I had no idea it would be so difficult. Most people don't realize how many planets have to properly align in order to get pregnant! Once we began having trouble I decided Clomid would be my miracle drug. But no. Clomid was a cake walk compared to the other stuff I had to resort to. I never imagined I'd become a pro at giving myself injections in the stomach thrice daily. Or that I'd never get over the pain of the intramuscular injections Hubs had to give me with a needle as long as my pinky finger.

I remember this day so clearly. It was cold in the examination room. My teeth were chattering. Hubs and my mom were there with me. I couldn't stop crying. Our day had finally come. This was our 2nd round of IVF (in-vitro fertilization) and it was heavy with anticipation. I'd decided I couldn't handle another round, so if this didn't work, our plan was to start talking about adoption. This photo was taken as my doctor was loading our embryos up into a catheter. I'd had Valium to relax me, but when you're sharing a room with your potential babies, there is no being calm. They are tangible. They are right there. They are on the verge of becoming your dream fully realized. Yet they might not survive. And there's absolutely nothing you can do because you have no control over any of it.

I remember Dr. B looking at the screen with us and saying quietly, "These look really good. I'm thinking twins." The tears doubled. I was scared to hope, and I almost wish she wouldn't have said it because I heard her saying it over and over in my head.

I started bleeding 7 days post transfer (7 days after they put the embryos into my uterus). I became hysterical and called my nurse. Although it was too early, she agreed to let me come in for my blood test the following day. I needed closure, I wanted to move on and accept that this IVF had failed, too.

I couldn't wait for labs, so I took the last home pregnancy test I had. The faintest second line showed up. I started to hope. But I didn't understand why I was bleeding.

I went in to the lab after lying awake all night. Numbly watched the tech draw my blood. I couldn't speak. I couldn't look at anyone. I resented the wall of photos of everyone else's babies the clinic had helped to create/conceive.

Two long hours later I got the call that I was indeed pregnant. The bleeding was due to low progesterone, which simply meant more injections for me for a while. We were excited, but nervous. We didn't know if it would stick.

Then, six weeks (and lots of nausea and exhaustion) later, this:

Two sacs. Two fetal poles. I was pregnant with twins!

Approximately 33 weeks later, I looked like a beached whale:

On December 7-8, 2005, we had a large snow storm. Hubs took me out to lunch on December 8, where I chowed down on the best grilled cheese and fries I'd ever had. That meal has since been affectionately referred to as "The Labor Lunch," because strong contractions set in that evening. I was in active labor although I didn't know it. The following morning, December 9, I went in for a regularly scheduled non-stress test. I was 34 weeks pregnant. The nurses thought I looked a little funny in the waiting area, so they whisked me straight to the back. They checked me. I was 4 cm dilated and fully effaced. My doctor came in and checked and said, "Baby A's head is right there!" I couldn't believe it! They scheduled my C-section for 1:00 p.m., which gave Hubs enough time to go home, get my overnight bag and shave the beard he'd been growing for the last two months.

At 1:46 p.m., Abigail Jane was born:

And at 1:47, her twin sister, Isabel Grace was born:

Mommy & Abby the next day

Abby is on the left, Izzy is on the right. They had feeding tubes b/c they weren't very interested in eating (common for preemies)

The girls in Daddy's arms. Izzy is on the left, Abby is on the right.

Shortly after their birth, my aunt gave me a Celine Dion cd. Now, I know what you're thinking (because I was, too). But I heard this one song and that was it for me. I played it over and over and over again. And cried every time. I listened to it on all the drives back and forth to the NICU over the next 3 weeks. And even after that. It is exactly how I feel.

"Miracle" by Celine Dion

You're my life's one miracle

Everything I've done that's good
And you break my heart with tenderness
And I confess it's true
I never knew a love like this 'til you

 You're the reason I was born
Now I finally know for sure
And I'm overwhelmed with happiness
So blessed to hold you close
The one that I love most
Though the future has so much for you in store
Who could ever love you more

The nearest thing to heaven
You're my angel from above
Only God creates such perfect love

 When you smile at me I cry
And to save your life I'd die
With a romance that is pure in heart
You are my dearest part
Whatever it requires
I live for your desires
Forget my own, your needs will come before
Who could ever love you more

There is nothing you could ever do
To make me stop loving you
And every breath I take
Is always for your sake
You sleep inside my dreams
And know for sure
Who could ever love you more

I am so lucky to be their mama. I hope I'm not scarring them for life. There are long days when I wish for peace and quiet. And then I have a flash of anger at myself because of how quickly I've forgotten how desperately I wanted them. How quiet it would be at home without them. And how empty my heart would be.
 
I am so, so lucky.
 
Thank you for taking this walk down memory lane with me.
 
The girls today (recently):

Izzy is on the left and Abby is on the right.

p.s. if you really want to see pics of my boggy uterus, email me. And no, I'm not kidding!