Liz and Sam 

The Slide 

Liz and Sam and Claire

Liz cares for our babies for a couple days every week. We met her when she came to Boston from Italy where she had been lives. Josie (Ork-Ork), her mother, had been taking care of the babies for us went to Florida to care for her father for a few months, she handed the baton to Liz.

When she started caring for Sam and Claire, they were cranky babies, winter-bound in our tiny house. I think they conspired to give her a hard time. I have never experienced anything quite like facing two infants in meltdown without anyone else around. Often there is nothing one can do but focus on, walk with, and calm one of the babies, leaving the other to fend for itself. I am pretty sure that Liz has faced this dilemma more than once with Sam and Claire. Often I came home on Thursday afternoon and heard her euphemistically describe the problems Claire and Sam had that day.

As we moved through the winter, though, the babies grew bigger and happier. Instead of hearing about the problems the babies had, I heard more and more stories about the places they went and the games they played. When she comes into the house, Sam and Claire light up with smiles and shrieks. The babies told me that when Liz is caring for them, the time just flies by. She helped them make that transition from cranky infants into little self-sufficient toddlers. They appreciate that.

Sam and Claire are already planning their trip to Italy to visit Liz when she goes back home. Sam is secretly planning to hide in Liz's suitcase.

Sam plays with the ducklings 

Sam eats a banana 

Taking Claire's temperature 

Testing the ear thermometer on myself 

Make Way for Ducklings

Today we walked to Kendall Square, over the Longfellow bridge, and down Charles street to the Public Garden. It was a wonderful day. Blue skies, a slight brisk breeze. The babies ate bananas next to the stay off the grass signs. Sam especially liked watching the train crossing the bridge.

The ducklings from the children's book Make Way for Ducklings by Robert McCloskey are bronze statues in Boston's Public Garden. Whenever we walk by them, there are children petting and riding the statues. Sam and Claire visited them for the first time today. The ducklings were dressed up for Easter in fancy hats. Sam fed real ducks, geese and pidgeons.

Claire had a cold, so she mainly stayed in the stroller.

Oh yeah, Mom made biscuits.

Dad and Sam at the Public Gardens 

Updates and Corrections

• Claire did not blind Lynn. Claire's antics with her mother's glasses have not harmed their relationship. Mom keeps both Sam and Claire away from her glasses now.
• Lynn did not go to a progressive discipline meeting at the mother of twins club. It was a positive discipline class. As many of you pointed out, progressive discipline is what we would use on the babies if we were planning to fire them.
• We recieved two other business ideas related to the babies day off . One is to hire a babysitter to care for one of the babies and go out with the other one pretending that we don't have twins. The other is to bury the babies up to their necks while we are tending the fields. Kay suggests that we send them (Federal Express?) to Minnesota.
• Claire now uses the Radio Flyer wagon like a pro. When we first received it, we reported that it was mainly Sam's toy.
• We no longer have a problem with Claire biting Sam as was described in Miss Behavior
• Sam now crawls both up and down the stairs like a pro.
• We think Claire looks a little bit like Uma Thurman.

What's Mine is Mine

Sam's rules of Property

1. If I like it, it's mine.
2. If it might be mine, its mine.
3. If it's in my hand, its mine.
4. If I can take it from you, it's mine.
5. If I had it before, it's mine.
6. If I'm making something, all the parts are mine.
7. If it's mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.
8. If it looks like mine, it's mine.
9. If I think its mine, it's mine.

Exerpted without permission from Me, Myself and I: How Children Build Their Sense of Self--18 to 36 Months by Kyle D Pruett

Because they wanted To

There is this short story by Mary Gaitskill about a babysitter in Vancouver. She just moved to the city, she doesn't really know anybody there... she is sort of drifting. I read the story a long time ago, so most of the stuff I describe about it will be wrong. She meets a woman who has two kids in a laundromat. The woman asks if would be willing to babysit while her husband and she go to dinner. The babysitter doesn't have very much money left, she can certainly use the opportunity.

The woman has an apartment in a tall building in the city. The place is a little messy, cluttered with toys. They woman and her husband are rushed to get out of the house. She quickly shows the babysitter where the all of the stuff is and lets them know that they'll be back at 9:30.

The children and the babysitter play the for a while. One game they like they like to play is to jump up and down on the bed wildly repeating the following joke: "why did the Chicken cross the Road? Because he wanted to!"

So 9:30 comes and goes and 10:00 and 10:30 and the parents haven't returned. So at 11:00 the babysitter leaves the children alone in the apartment. That's the end of the short story.

I thought about that short story today as I sat in a meeting with our General Manager about one of our accounts (if your reading this its not yours) and the clock slipped past the time I was supposed to leave to meet the babysitter and pick up the kids.

Fortunately I don't live in Canada where babysitters are irresponsible, so the kids were waiting with Liz when I arrived an hour late. Fortunately Lynn doesn't really read this blog. Otherwise I'd be in big trouble.

Drool 

Sam and Claire go to the Liquor Store

Liz cared for the babies today while Lynn went to work making the world safe for tracing your family history. Sam and Claire spent a lot of time outside with Liz.

I came home at 5:30 so Liz could hand off the children to me. Liz reported on their day. Claire declined to have her afternoon nap. What a surprise. Sam was fussy after he woke up from his. What a surprise. There was stuff about Claire I am not allowed to write in the blog. Liz cooked the babies a frittata.

After Liz left, Sam and Claire and I crawled around the first floor of our house. Claire and I held hands and walked back and forth from the front door to the kitchen and back. Sam and I chased one another back and forth in the kitchen.

Finally, I pulled the baby backpack out of the basement, put socks and a coats on Sam and Claire, and put Sam in the backpack. Sam didn't like it. He whined and complained and whined. I held Claire in my arms, put Sam on my back, and we went into the street. Sam and Claire and I calmed down once we got outside. There is way too much going on outside to be fussy.

We walked past the Chinese restaurant. We walked past the Monster toy and game store. We walked past Mayflower poultry. Sam looked. Claire looked. Claire waved. Then we went to 660 Liquors (at 660 Cambridge St.). The woman behind the counter said, "Look it's the Twins. They're getting so big. God bless 'em." Sam tried to grab a bottle of wine as we walked to the the coolers in the back.

We picked out a big bottle of Chimay ale made by Trappist monks who support the culture of life. As we paid for the beer, an old woman in the store talked to the babies in Portuguese. We walked back home. Claire listened to Cat in the Hat while Sam chewed on the cork.

Mom came home. We played some more, changed the babies into their pajamas, turned down the lights and put them to bed. Goodnight moon. Goodnight noises everywhere.

Reading is fundamental 

Sam's and Claire's favorite books

The Cat in The Hat

A very topical book for this long New England Winter. It is a Freudian allegory of the struggle between the id, the ego and the super ego. It is a favorite of Claire Emison's.

The Sun did not shine.
It was too wet to play.
So we sat in the house
All that cold, cold, wet day.

Sadly, the Cat in the Hat never comes to save our family.

One Hungry Monster, A Counting Book in Rhyme

This is a book about a boy who struggles with the appetites of as many as TEN hungry monsters begging and pleading to be fed. Could it be that these monsters represent what others expect him to want? Are they a symbol of rampant consumerism? The boy placates the monsters and still finds a way to fulfill his true desires.

Then from behind the toaster,
my secret hiding spot,
I take an apple muffin
the monsters never got!

Kleine Molli ganz groß

A sort of a feel good Bildungsroman from Tante Erin. Molli, a little bear, does everything herself for a day. She eats breakfast, paints, plays with balloons...
Spielen macht Hunger.
Es gibt Mollis Lieblingsessen.
Ein Löffel, eine Gabel -
aber ohne get es am besten.

That's not my puppy...its coat is too hairy

Every page has a part of the puppy to feel. Paws are too bumpy, tail is too fluffy, ears are too shaggy... you get the idea.

That's my puppy!
His nose is so squashy.

Every day brings a new discovery 

So Many Books... So Little Time 

Business Ideas

It snowed again in Boston today. It has been a really tough winter and the babies, Lynn and I are starting to get on one another's nerves. Yesterday I caught Claire looking on the internet for a family in Florida that might take her. I think Sam is capable of crawling south for the winter.

I have a few ideas for removing the stress of our enforced togetherness. I would like input and ideas from you as well.

1. Babies' day off. I get the sense that Claire and Sam need a break from our constant togetherness as much as Lynn and I do. An obvious solution would be to give them a vacation from their parents. All we need to do is fill twelve baby bottles with milk, open three cans of green beans and toast ten pieces of bread and put it all up into their room. Put the CD player on auto repeat of the muppet movie soundtrack. Pull the toys out and let them have at it for the day. "OK Kids, here's the deal: you don't bother us, we won't bother you." I've just started to discuss this possibility with Lynn. She is skeptical now, but I think she'll come around.
2. The Baby Kennel. A friend of mine runs a doggy day care in Salt Lake City. The idea is that you drop off your dogs when you need to travel or even if you need to be out for half of the day. They run the dogs together; the doggy day care allows them to form into a sort of a pack. They have a grand time. I figure that this concept could be run in reverse. Instead of traditional day care, where you leave your kids on a regular schedule because of commitments to work, there could be a sort of baby drop off day care center where you could leave your children for an indeterminate period of time. They, too, could let the children bond together in a natural way like dogs in a pack or the Lord of the Flies.
3. The Baby Walking Service. This is sort of a variation on the previous idea. Around here you see day care centers with these stroller-wagons that hold twelve children. When the weather is good, the day care staff carts the kids down the walking path. Instead of all the overhead of day care--insurance, trained staff, rent--one could have a sort of a baby walking service. The wagon-stroller could go on a predetermined route. It would have a distinctive sound--like an ice cream truck--when parents heard it, they could get a twenty dollar bill out, bundle their child in a snow suite and put him in the wagon. It would come back around in an hour or two. I know that there is some way RFID could be used as part of this business model.

Sad sad Sam 

Claire took the medicine bottle 

Sam 

Sam

Claire and I have a special relationship. Not only are we a father-daughter pair, we are also friends. We read together, hand legos back and forth, walk around the house looking out the windows at the never-ending Winter. Sometimes we just hang out doing nothing. Claire is my girl.

And yet it is Sam who breaks my heart. He is a highly mobile boy. In the evenings he often does laps crawling through our bedrooms. He doesn't keep eye contact like Claire does when he is interacting with you. When he's happy, he gets this aw-shucks grin on his face and goes back to his current job. When Claire is happy, she gets an enormous toothy grin, like a hyena baring its teeth and squeals with excitement. When she is upset, her body goes rigid and she screams louder than any other being her size.

When Sam is upset, it is like his soul has been irreparably wounded. He sticks out his lower lip. His eyes get really big. He begins to cry and then he wails like a hurt bear cub. Even when you have properly soothed him, he retains a residual melancholy as if your taking a quarter, or a pen or a pair of scissors away from him has shattered his illusion that the world is a habitable place.

I stayed home with Sam and Claire today. They didn't have a very good morning nap. After lunch they went to play group. When we made it home from play group it was three o'clock and they were ready for a good afternoon nap. After about thirty minutes, Sam starts to wail. He is, as is almost always true in these cases, sitting up in his crib watching the door crying his eyes out. Claire is dead asleep. I take Sam out of the room to keep from waking Claire. He's only been down for thirty minutes and he didn't have a long morning nap, so he will have to go back to sleep.

When I am carrying him around he is fine (accept for the residual melancholy). When I lay down with him in our bed, he starts crying again. I snuggle him into my shoulder, rub his back and sing to him and he slowly calms down. Every fifth breath is still a gasp to hold back his tears. If I stop singing or talking or I stop petting him, he starts up again. After about fifteen minutes he finally falls off to sleep, a warm bundle at my side.

Sam pulls the top to his bottle off the kitchen counter 

Accidents are bound to happen

We have been giving the babies dextromethorphan for their coughs. We didn't get a dropper to use with bottle, so we have been using the dropper that came with the tylenol. Sam doesn't like cough medicine. Claire, taking after her dad, likes it just fine.

This morning at about 9:30, Lynn called me at work to say that Sam had pulled the baby tylenol off the bathroom counter and poured the bottle onto his shirt and into his mouth. I told her she should call the pediatrician and ask him what to do. The pediatrician's office said she should call 911 instead of them. 911 patched her through to poison control who determined that the dose wasn't large enough for it to be a serious issue. Meanwhile it occurred to me that she might need the car, so I call her back. She doesn't answer (because she is on the phone to poison control). I call her cell phone. She doesn't answer that. I call again and again. Finally she picks up and lets me know that everything is all right.

Later that day, I get home from work. We feed the babies hash-browns with cheese, green beans, and canned peaches. They eat about half of it and throw the rest on the floor. After dinner the babies are playing with us on the kitchen floor. Sam tries to crawl up my body as I eat an egg sandwich. Claire is grabbing at Lynn's glasses on the other side of the room.

All of a sudden Lynn lets out a blood curdling scream, grabs her right eye and curls up in a fetal position. Claire has pulled off Lynn's glasses and managed to stick the ear piece into her eye. I grab Claire and take her into the front room. She starts screaming. Sam starts to scream. Lynn says she is scared to take her hand away from her eye. I take Claire and Sam upstairs. I step on Lynn's glasses. Claire gets REALLY upset. Lynn manages to sit up and pull her hand away from her eye. She has a mark on her lower eyelid and her right eye is bloodshot. Her eye hurts. Otherwise she seems OK.

Both of us go upstairs and walk around with the babies. It takes about an hour to calm Claire down. They go to sleep at their regular bedtime: 7:00.

A nice relaxing day with the children.

The Chair 

Another Outing for Sam and Claire

Instead of going to the Science Museum, or taking a walk to the coffee shop for our outing on Saturday, we went to the Container Store next to the Chesnut Hill Mall. We went there because Lynn wanted to get a container for the Sam's and Claire's bath toys--something that could attach to the side of the tub with suction cups. One could also say that we went to the Container store because Sam's and Claire's Mom is a crazy woman who, like a dog with a bone, cannot let an idea go once she has sunk her teeth into it.

Needless to say, there were no such suction cup baby bath toy boxes at the Container Store. We wandered around the place gawking at this slice of Dallas, Texas imported to Newton, Massachusetts. There was one section of the store where they were (no joke) showing videos about the store to a family of prospective franchisees. "The Container Store invented the packaging segment in the retail industry."

Although we bought two cute plastic little kid chairs there, the whole exercise was so demoralizing that we skipped our "fun outing"--walking through the Chestnut Hill Mall with the babies. It is just as well since we they wouldn't have let us part in the Mall lot since we didn't own a Lexus or a Mercedes.

Next we went for a leisurely shopping experience at the Market Basket grocery store in Union Square. That took an additional hour and a half. It would require another whole blog entry to properly describe it. We arrived home exhausted, defeated. The kitchen floor was littered with our groceries in their canvas bags. Sam and Claire crawled through them picking out their favorite items to chew or bang on.

To salvage the day, we sat the babies in their respective new chairs. They liked sitting in them at first; but they seemed nervous. Sam was trying to find a way to scoot out of the chair and get back to his tasks. He is pretty good at getting himself out of difficult situations--he can climb off of the couch and the bed--so we let him try to figure it out. His eventual solution was to plop forward on his forehead, giving himself a nice little bruise. As I scooped Sam up to hold him as he screamed and Lynn tried to console him, Claire followed Sam's example and dumped herself onto the kitchen floor.

Claire learns new skills 

Changes

Sam grew one foot overnight. I didn't notice until I was about halfway to the T that he had made it out the door with me and was following twenty feet back. He was quite a trooper to crawl through the snow for all of that way. Claire has started to add things to the grocery list. She does a remarkably convincing job of copying Lynn's handwriting. We noticed this last week when we made it home and discovered that over half of our grocery bill was accounted for by banana yo-baby and oreos. One of the babies - we're not sure which - is making long distance calls to Thailand. We have also started to recieve mail order packages that neither Lynn nor I remember requesting. I told Claire that we were on to her. Her response was to grab my nose, grin and say EEEEeeeee! I haven't talked to Sam about it.