Crucial products for guys like mine

Something tugged at me the other night, pulling me toward the nursery and urging me to check on Matthew and Jonathan. I hate to do that. So often, it wakes them. But this feeling was so strong, that I opened the doors anyway.
And when I did, I found Matthew asleep underneath his fitted crib sheet.
It frightened me, but it did not surprise me.
These guys are clever, curious and determined.
A few days earlier, I had come into the nursery during nap time to find both boys shouting and giggling with their legs tucked underneath the sheets. They had figured out how to reach down the sides of the mattresses, grab the elastic from underneath and pull the sheets up.
That first incident gave me a little time to research the options.
I knew straps wouldn't work, not the way they were doing this. I had to find something that would make their sheets immobile.
It took a few hours and a lot of creative keyword searches, but, I finally found the solution. Four Secure-Fit crib sheets from Halo Innovations arrived via Federal Express Ground today. I took them out of the package and smiled. This company knows my boys.
The arrival of the sheets got me thinking about the items I have found invaluable to high-energy, creative twin boys. And I'd like to share a few of my favorites. No one has paid me or influenced me in any way in exchange for these endorsements.
Lets start with the sheets:

Halo Secure-Fit crib sheets: These sheets have deep pockets on either end to keep the sheets on. One side slips over the mattress. The other side Velcros into place. Parents of multiples can get discounts by calling customer service number.

Halo Big Kid's Sleep Sack Wearable Blanket: These are essential for children like mine who are climbers and they are much easier to use than crib nets. The larger sleep sacks have foot hole so toddlers can stand and walk, but they can't lift their legs over the sides of cribs.

Podee Baby Bottles: What can I say about these? They brought me sanity once I stopped nursing. Podee bottles have a long, flexible tube that leads to a nipple and reaches far down to the bottom of the bottle. Parents can push a stroller through a mall with bottles tucked in at their twins' sides and nipples in mouths. With two older kids who needed my attention and lots of events to attend outside the home, these were crucial for me. They kept everyone happy. It beats propping bottles or listening to one baby scream while the other eats.

Step2 Safari Wagon: This wagon has a deep leg well for tall toddlers like mine and seat belts to contain them. It also has an easily removable roof with cup holders for my coffee. One of the seats lifts for storage. The boys have holders for their sippy cups or snacks. I no longer see the Safari model for sale on their site. The closest is the Canopy Wagon, which appears to be the same product minus the sippy cup holder.


Baby Trend Double Snap-N-Go: This saved my back in those early months. The frame is light-weight and works with most brands of infant car seats. You just lift the car seat out of the vehicle, snap it into the frame and go. The basket underneath has plenty of room too. Unfortunately, my very-tall boys outgrew their infant seats by five months.

Starbucks: Drive-thru, drink-in, brew-at-home. I don't know how I would have made it through the first two years without Starbucks.

Halfway to 4

I feel like I should write something profound for their second birthday. Something poetic, insightful, wondrously quotable.
It has, after all, been a monumental year for Matthew and Jonathan. They learned to walk. They learned to talk. They exchanged bottles for sippy cups. They even learned that they are separate entities--that Matt is Matt and Jon is Jon.
Every day, their maturity and the skills that come with it enable Matthew and Jonathan to give us more and more glimpses into the people they are and the people they will become.
Yet, as we celebrated their birthday yesterday, I found I couldn't do it.
I couldn't write about those things.
All I could think about--honestly--is that 2 is halfway to 4 and that by 4, they will be potty trained, they will respond to reason at some level, they will no longer need a stroller and they will talk in sentences.
That doesn't mean I want to rush them.
No, not at all.
I don't want them to grow up too fast. I adore their little kisses on my lips, cheeks and nose. I long for their tiny hands around my neck. I cherish their nonsensical exchanges that result in fits of giggles.
And, wow. That unconditional trust only babies and toddlers have. That belief that mom is all-powerful, all-knowing, all-everything. That she is flawless. I see that in their eyes as they reach for me. They believe that I can make anything better. They really do.
No, I don't want to rush through that.
But they exhaust me lately as much as they exhilarate me.
And I find the exhaustion much easier to contend with if I have something to look forward to.
So, on their birthday, while I was chasing them around the house trying desperately to persuade them to keep their clothes and diapers on at least until our neighbors arrived for cake and ice-cream, I focused on the future.
I focused on how much easier it will become instead thinking about how hard it sometimes has been. With that in mind, I found I could laugh at our little strippers and I caught them.
They made it through the evening fully clothed.

Today they are two.

The shirt wars

Lately, they give me no choice.
I prefer to dress Matthew and Jonathan differently, but not because I worry about some identity crisis. I do it for my own selfish reasons: I find it easier to tell them apart. I'd rather look at their shirts as they run squealing away than wait until I catch up with them, turn them around and look hard into their faces.
But they are rebelling.
Within minutes of dressing the boys each the morning, one twin begins pawing at the other's shirt.
He wants it.
That's the only shirt he wants and he is obsessed. He won't leave his poor twin alone until he get it. And his twin can only run for so long.
The solution is simple if the shirt has an identical twin as well, but we don't have a lot of identical shirts. So, I do the next best thing. I open the shirt drawer and let him choose another favorite.
But as soon as that twin changes his shirt, the other twin begins pawing him. Then he starts stamping his feet and screaming and crying and trying to take his own shirt off and pointing at the shirt drawer saying, "Shirt! Shirt! Shirt!"
What can I do?
I open it and he grabs another.
Peace lasts for about 30 seconds.
Soon the victimized twin begins coveting his brother's shirt.
And so it goes.
The cycle repeats and repeats and repeats itself until finally, they end up in matching shirts.
And they are happy.
For a while.
Until one twin spills half his lunch on his shirt and has to change ...

The games that they play

They are not even two yet.
Not quite.
I have a few weeks left.
But it seems that Matthew and Jonathan can't wait.
They are playing like devious preschoolers.
They have always interacted with each other.
As newborns, we would place them on opposite ends of the crib, all swaddled in their receiving blankets. Fifteen minutes later, we would find them in the middle of the crib, side-by-side with blankets undone and heads touching.
By four months, old, the grunting had begun. They were like tiny caveman, exchanging grunts and giggles.
People stared.
Games of chase came with toddlerhood. Shouts of "Go, go, go," from one twin would trigger laps through the kitchen, dining room and living room with one toddler fast on the heels of the other. They even set up obstacle courses of sorts and took turns completing them.
The most popular went like this:
lay down and kick the safety gate; run to the recliner and slap hands on the leather (laugh); run over to the pillow they had thrown on the floor in just the right spot and jump.
Laugh like crazy and start over.
They were amazing and we were proud.
But, in the past few weeks, they have taken their level of play up a few notches. And it's all about games.
There is the usual stuff: tag, wrestling, cheering each other on as they run and leap into their bean bag chairs.
Then there are the creative ones: beg mom to let them color, "accidentally" throw a crayon on the floor, wait for her to pick it up and then pelt her with orange, green, blue and pink as she squats; grab sippy cups and dance with them, chanting "Aye, aye, aye," which, for some reason, makes them each laugh so hard, they can't breathe; "set" the table when mom isn't looking; set up Hot Wheel tracks all by themselves by sticking one end into the sofa and creating a ramp.
If that's not enough, they have both developed the cackle, that cackle the says, "Hee, hee! We've just pulled one over on mom. Let's watch her turn red and growl when she sees it!"
My babies didn't do this.
The worst part about this new phase of theirs is that I get absolutely nothing done.
Not a thing.
Not because they are into everything, moving nonstop and fearless.
But because I can't stop watching.
I am amazed and proud.

Christmas 2008

In celebration of Christmas (and because I lost my anonymity anyway when I linked this blog to my professional site), I'm throwing on photos of the whole family on Christmas Day (Minus my grown stepdaughter who celebrated with us earlier in December and spent the holiday with her mother).

In the photo of the twins playing together, Matthew is on the left. Matthew is lying on his dad's chest. Jonathan is looking up at him in the other photo. Jonathan is on the right in the photo with me. The other children are our 8-year-old son and our 7-year-old daughter.

Merry Christmas all!
Have a wonderful and fun-filled New Year!

The results are in

It's official.
The boys can hear and understand spoken language just fine. They use plenty of inflection. They know at least 20 animal sounds and say them clearly. They even know many of their letter sounds.
Matthew and Jonathan can verbally communicate with others.
When they want to.
The trouble is that like many twins, particularly identical boys, they really don't want to most of the time. They use the smallest parcel of language possible to get their messages across and, at 23 months old, they still refuse to put two words together.
Really refuse.
They shake their heads "no."
"Twin language," the therapist wrote on the form in the evaluation room of the early invention program. They understand each other and have no urgent desire to please us grown-ups with their linguistic skills.
That's why they just stare at folks who try to get them to wave "hello" or "good-bye," yet they holler "bye-bye" and shut the door behind me when I take them to the sitter's (They love going there!). That's why they say only the first sound of so many words. That's why I am frequently puzzled when they open the fridge and ask for milk by some term they came up with entirely on their own.
No therapy necessary, she said. They will figure it out. But we really should teach them sign language if we want to lessen the frequency of tantrums as they struggle with the realization that this isn't going to work forever, she said.
The other therapists had a few things to say too. Mostly, they wondered how we do it. The room was like a preschool, filled with countless cool toys and contraptions that drew Jonathan and Matthew like magnets.
But the force wasn't strong enough.
Within 20 minutes, they were grabbing clipboards, standing on chairs, stealing shoes and flipping through notebooks of the three blissfully ignorant therapists. Their antics earned Jonathan and Matthew a ranking of 36 months for gross motor skills and 31 months for fine motor skills.
They made it only to 21 months for adaptive motor skills because I have, thus far, refused to introduce the potty. "I'm not potty training them until they can at least say the word 'potty,'" I told the therapist.
"Okay," she said. "Here's the sign."