Trains.
The people-moving kind.
The ones whose whistles blow a two-year-old's mind.

Trains.
Where aboard ride friendly conductors
Who smile, offer to hold doors, and even carry strollers.

Trains.
The big silver ones whirling across the track
Out whose windows are construction trucks and an entire world in tact.

Trains.
Get on, get off, get on again;
Just say "choo choo," and your adventure will begin. ---SM




Above: The boys wait for the train to arrive.


Above: Two excited boys look out the train window


Above: Stroller in the front seat, babes and mom in the back!


Above: In all, 10 moms, 14 kids, and at least three babies in utero rode the train from Sunnyvale to Palo Alto, lunched, then headed home...

I hope these early spring pool pictures don't ruin anyone's appetite for more to come when summer strikes. Actually, with a new babe on the way, who knows how often we'll actually make it to the pool or the beach. That said, we're trying to soak up as much sun and water as we can when we can.

Thank goodness for Becky's continuous invitation to have us join her at her pool. With homemade smoothies, BBQ-d hot dogs, and a few chips to boot, we three toddlers and two pregnant mamas had ourselves a picnic and a pool party all in fewer than two hours!

Grant is the big swimmer in our family. The kid thinks he can swim so he launches off the steps and into my arms any chance he gets. The water in his face or accidentally swallowed doesn't seem to fase him much. We were in the pool alongside some lap swimmers, and Grant really thought he was doing the same stroke, I think! Meanwhile, Kellen prefers the steps and is quite happy there. He ventured out once in the inflatable tube, and then retired, with Ben, Grant, and bubbles, in the hot tub. ---SM

My family visited for Easter weekend. We had a great time playing in the yard, getting the baby stuff together---including moving the boys into their new room, setting up the bassinets (one for our room and one for baby's), and unboxing baby boy clothes and blankets. What a trip to see all these cute outfits again. I know it was only two years ago the boys were wearing these, but it already seems like ages ago. Actually, it's hard for me to believe babies come so small to fit in these clothes, though, I know they do.

One of the weekend's top moments, of course, was watching the boys experience their first Easter egg hunt with our church group at a local park. We arrived in style hauling the whole family in the VW. The boys got the hang of collecting the eggs pretty quickly; still, Kellen preferred playing on the playground over the Easter festivities. Grant lasted through the egg hunt, then promptly fell fast asleep for the afternoon on my dad's shoulder! ---SM


Above: After-church on Easter Sunday.

Calling all photographers: here’s a brilliant Easter-time idea (note: sarcasm ahead):

Step 1: Send an email blast to hundreds of parents.

Step 2: Invite them to bring their toddlers to your professional studio.

Step 3: Buy dozens of live springy animals like rabbits, ducks, and baby chicks, leave them in your studio the night before shoot-weekend.

Step 4: Get a call from the cops in the wee hours of the morning because the ducks escaped their crates and set off the alarms.

Step 5: Spend the next three days chasing the animals, the kids, scooping poop, and snapping pictures all at the same time.

OK, OK, here’s a brilliant Easter joke: What weighs more than 60 pounds, loves rabbits, ducks, and chicks, and can’t wait for a riotous hands-on experience? (answer: my boys)

Believe it or not, it all really happened!

Last week, I took the boys to get Easter pictures strictly because there would be live animals, and for selfish reasons, I had to see their reaction. I figured that even if they were scared, we’d get some pretty interesting pictures.

I gotta tell you, it was worth my entertainment alone that morning. I had a blast and so did the boys. Shy at first, the twins, who were the first clients of the three-day shoot, didn’t need much convincing to get themselves into the studio.

The photographer came out and said, “Hey, guys, do you hear that cheeping in the back?” And they perked up. “Those are ducks and you get to play with them!” Immediately, Kellen said, “Quack, Quack,” and Grant led the way down the hall and into the studio.

The next thing I knew, the boys were so gleeful that I could have sworn a toddler lottery exists and they had just won it.

Three photographers circled the room, alternating who would pick up the camera, who would chase the animals, and who would monitor the boys from squeezing the life out of the chicks. But the inevitable happened, despite the close monitoring, and when the boys got their hands around (note careful selection of previous preposition) every single rabbit, duck, and chick, a small riot broke out. Birds were quacking and cheeping, and so were the boys. So much was happening all at once that Grant got distracted and as the song goes, “‘twas the ending of el pollito.”

I called over to one photographer to take a look, and she gently took the bird from Grant’s hands. I heard two final gasps of air surrounding two weak “cheap. . . cheap” sounds, then the poor thing was out cold. I felt awful, except I also felt like that is sort of the risk you take combining two fledgling types---the chick and the toddler. But my guilt was relieved when Becky reported several hours later (after taking her son to the same studio) that the bird survived and several more were on order to last the rest of the weekend.

When another photographer joked that he needed to give the animals some Xanex to prepare them for the rush of toddlers to come, I looked at him and thought he was the one who would be needing it. But patience all three photographers had, that was for sure. They knew what they were getting into, and it turned out to be a great celebration for all!

Whew. ---SM

Obviously, with twins, most things come in twos: twice the diapers, twice the outfits, twice the shoes, twice the food (twice the tantrums lately), and so on. But this weekend, we celebrated “two” as a birthday, and it was kinda cool because we got to see how los dos hermanos had very different takes on what it means to be their age. Cases in point:

Cake.
What we thought would be a giant hit, was only half so. When Grant saw his birthday cake, he couldn’t wait for the birthday song to finish. He poked his little index finger straight into the frosting and on through the cake, pulled it out, licked it, then raised his eyebrows and smiled. When he finally got a piece of his own, he ate every morsel. On the other hand, Kellen refused to even take a bite---quite content with carrots alone, thank you very much.

Presents.
Kellen held onto his new wooden train the entire evening. When he’d head to open another present, he’d tuck the train under one of his arms so that he could use both hands to unwrap. He’d also say, “Choo-choo” as if to ask if the gift was going to be another train.

Grant, however, preferred to relish in each item, giving concentrated attention for several moments before moving on. Among his favorites were his new gorilla action figure, his Construction Truck Big Book, and a combination of the giant fire engine and construction digger that also play music. In true Grant fashion, he got down to the beat. He really got down.

Balloons.
Thomas the Train primary colors made up the balloon bouquet that had the boys running wild circles. All around the downstairs part of the house---through the kitchen, living, and family room, my dad chased the twins until he got dizzy. Still the boys continued chasing each other, and the balloons proved an excellent locating device. We simply watched for a moving balloon then followed its string down to a little hand and a great big grin.

Happy Birthday!---SM

So...

I bought a baby doll for the boys last week as a behavioral simulation before the real baby arrives. Since my friend Becky has had such success with her son to prepare for their new arrival and my boys loved ooh-ing and goo-ing over baby Hattie who visited last weekend, I figured it could be a fun experiment.

Despite Justin's strict disapproval, the boys love the thing (maybe I should have bought two, but I thought one would be more realistic). They hold it, fight over who gets to hold it, hold its hand in the car, etc.---just like real siblings! Fortunately, it came with two bottles, so they each can hold a bottle and feed it, too. Mostly, they love to press the stomach to have it cry, laugh, and say "mama."

Unfortunately, Target only had girl baby dolls, so I got the one in the purple outfit over the pink ones (couldn't find a purple picture online, so the pink one is below). I always forget to call it a boy because it looks so much like a girl, so I'm constantly referring to "her" and "him" in the same sentence. (For example: "She looks tired; go kiss him goodnight.") I'm hoping the twins don't end up suffering from long-term pronoun confusion, but according to Justin, who both rolls his eyes and cracks up to watch how gentle the boys are with the doll, that's the least of my worries! My next step is to break out our boy preemie outfits the boys wore and dress the doll, my last-ditch attempt to make the pink-cheeked, red-lipped little being look a tiny more masculine.

Probably the funniest moment was when the twins dumped the doll in one of their own cribs, then tried to pull it out through the wood bars. They got both legs stuck and ripped the hat from the outfit. Thank goodness my mom was there to rescue the poor piece of plastic before its dismemberment! ---SM

After at least three hundred and two readings, the boys still love, "The Pigeon Loves Things That Go" book that their cousins gave to them last year.

Here's a short video of them taking a reading break while thawing out after their Sunday nap.---SM

Ahh...there's nothing like swimming in March. Better than that, swimming in March with your friends and your kids and eating food hot off the grill. I like that. ---SM

Here are a few highlights...

...And the video of Grant rocking out to Fergie's song, "Glamorous," as we drove the VW bus to the Shipley's pool.