A Glimpse

Last year at this time we were packing our bags. Actually, we were packing our bags amidst many boxes since we were both leaving for a family vacation and getting ready to move out of our house. Actually, knowing us, there probably weren't that many boxes around yet since we still had a whole 30 days to pack up our two moving van loads worth of stuff. But, regardless, we were definitely packing bags and getting ready for our first family vacation as a family of FIVE. We braved a questionable weather forecast and took the 3 kids on a camping trip to Cape Cod for the weekend. Honestly, I don't remember many of the details (though it certainly did rain quite a bit), but I think we had a pretty good time (though we did leave a day early). We were thinking about heading back again this weekend, but we've decided to take the weather forecast more seriously this time, so we're staying home. Hopefully we'll make it out there sometime in the next few weeks.

I recently came across this video clip from our trip last June, and thought I'd share this glimpse of what our life was like one year ago. Zeben was 6 months old, and Luke and Jaz were a little over 4 years old. I am the one taking the video (and sounding ridiculous talking to the baby . . . I swear that's not what I really sound like!), and Lena is the voice you hear in the background. Disclaimer: this was my first time ever using our digital camera as a video camera. Some head tilting required.

What's even more fun than playing "I Spy?"

. . . Give up? Need a hint? Making up riddles, of course! Today while Zeben was napping, and Lena and I were sunning our pasty pale legs on the front porch, Jaz and Luke came out to share with us a new joke that Jaz had just made up.


"There were two guys and one guy said to the other guy, 'oh you need some gas in your truck?' and the truck guy said, 'yes,' and then the other guy said, 'well I'll just put some farts right in!'"

He followed it up with this stellar knee-slapper:

"Um . . . why is your body full of ketchup?"

Which he then clarified for us, "you know, it's not really ketchup, it's blood! Ha, ha, ha-ha."

We decided to teach the boys about riddles and proceeded to spend the next 45 minutes or so making up riddles (or trying to at least). Lena got us started:

"What can you always see but never touch?" The Sky

Lukas responded with this one: "What's blue and you CAN touch it?" The Ocean


I offered up the only riddle I remembered of the top of my head: "What's black and white and read all over?" The Newspaper/A book

To which Jaz responded: "What's red, white and blue and rhymes with brag?" A Flag

We were all laughing pretty hard for totally different reasons.


The best one I came up with was: "What has wings but no beak?"

Lukas guessed the answer, an airplane, almost instantly and was so pleased with himself (just about as pleased as I was with myself for having thought it up).

My favorite riddle that Lena came up with: "What has nipples but cannot nurse?"

Jaz was the one to guess the answer: "You!" (Mama/Lena).

The end result of all this riddling was a definitive conclusion that making up riddles is even more fun than playing "I Spy" (our usual default). So I'm guessing (no pun intended) that there will be many more riddles to come. There will, unfortunately, probably be just as many fart jokes to come as well.

Baby Daddy

Sometimes it's really hard to take care of two babies
at the same time.

I can relate.

Clothesline Love

Lena gave me a clothesline for my birthday a couple of weeks ago, and today we used it to dry our regular laundry for the first time (it's already been working wonderfully with Zeben's diapers).There's something so romantic about clotheslines. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's the intimacy of seeing all your clothes hanging up there together on the line. Blowing in the wind and seemingly coming to life and dancing through the air. Or maybe it's just that clotheslines are romantic by association. Just the idea of a clothesline conjures up images of cozy country houses, and warm sun, and soft worn quilts, and maybe that's what's romantic.
Regardless, I certainly enjoyed watching Lena hanging the clothes out to dry this morning. She enjoyed it too. In fact, after the clothes were dry and folded, she was just positively giddy with clothesline love. And none of the clothes turned out too crunchy or wrinkled as I had feared they might. All in all it was a success and definitely the start of a new trend in our home. From now on, we'll likely be doing the wash in conjunction with nice weather and hanging everything outside to dry.

"BikeMomto3"

I recently joined the www.bikeforums.com online community, and my username is "BikeMomto3." When we moved down into the "city" from the hills last July, one of my main goals was to become a better biker. And by "better" I not only meant that I hoped my biking skills would improve, but also that I would come to use my bike in better ways, not just for recreational purposes. Zeb was only 8 months old when we moved, so I was a little hesitant to really go all out with the biking last summer. I did dip into the world of bike commuters, and I biked around town with the 3 kids (Zeb in a seat on the front of my bike and Luke and Jaz in a trailer) several times. But I certainly didn't stop driving, and I didn't really consider my bike to be a good car substitute. I started researching alternative bike set ups (our neighbors enthusiastically bike their kids around on an xtracycle, which has been quite inspirational for me), but I didn't come to any conclusions.

This summer, I am newly motivated to meet my original goal. Zeb is bigger and more able to enjoy biking (and not quite as liable to fall asleep after five minutes on the bike!), and gas is just way too expensive to justify driving anywhere in biking distance. I really think that before long everyone's going to be driving less and biking instead.

Zeben and I have been biking all over the place for the past several weeks. I have been trying to stick to a rule of *only* biking or walking if our destination is within 3 miles of home, and I've been mostly successful (there have been a couple of runs by car to the new food co-op, but I think I've figured out a way to get there by bike the next time I go). My legs are getting stronger, and I'm becoming a much more confident biker on the road. Biking is bringing out this huge amount of passion in me, and I feel so inspired and energized.

I love having Zeb in the little seat on the front of my bike! It's so much fun to notice the things he notices (birds, dogs, and squirrels for the most part), and to have little conversations with him as we get where we're going. He loves biking, and asking him if he wants to go for a bike ride gets an enthusiastic, "YeAH!" Sometimes he tries to move my hands out of the way so that he can steer, but otherwise he's a very pleasant passenger, and I find that I much prefer riding with him than riding by my lonesome.

Luke and Jaz are not the best bike passengers with our current set up. They're really getting to be too big for our Burley bike trailer (that we bought when they were about Zeben's age), especially when they're in there at the same time. And they think riding in the trailer is boring. I can't say I blame them too much since it's not much of a view from down there, and I also don't really love the experience of riding with the trailer. I feel nervous about a driver's ability to see it when I'm riding in traffic, and I also don't like that the boys and I can't even really have a conversation while they're back there (because they can't hear me). I've been spoiled by having Zeben up front where we can really share the experience.

I can't wait for our new family bike to arrive in the next couple of weeks. I'm really hoping that I will be able to bike most everywhere we need to go, perhaps to the extent that we can officially become a one-car family, and that I can truly live up to the name "BikeMom."

The Grass is Always Greener

Our house is surrounded by gorgeous flower gardens that our landlords designed and created. It's really pretty amazing. We do our best to try and keep the plants alive (or at least we try not do them any harm), but we really can't take any of the credit when passersby exclaim over the beauty blossoming around us. In the back, we have a sweet little "postage stamp" of a yard, big enough for our sandbox and a bit of scraggly grass. And it's really all the kids need to keep them well occupied for a day of outside play. But. It's nothing compared to the yard at our neighbor's house across the street.

Zeben looking wistfully over at the neighbor's yard

Not only is their grass greener and more plentiful (and mowed with some regularity), but they seriously have one of the most amazing set-ups that I've seen in downtown Northampton. They have a huge vegetable garden, a greenhouse, a chicken coop (with real, live, free-range chickens!), and an enormous trampoline. Luckily for us, they are also wonderful neighbors, with two kids (ages 4 and 7), who have welcomed us to share the glory of their yard whenever we like. And we take them up on their offer quite a bit.

Really? I can go over there?

Since before he could walk, Zeben has been filled with an unquenchable desire to play in the neighbors' yard. Seriously. Soon after he started crawling last summer, he headed down our driveway toward the street. Curious about what he would do, we decided not to swoop in and redirect him, and instead we just watched (and followed closely behind, of course!). He made a beeline for the neighbors' house, and made it all the way to their gate without once pausing or looking back to see where we were. Surely, this had something to do with the fact that for months he watched his brothers skip across the street first thing in the morning while he remained helplessly strapped to my back, protesting the incredible injustice. But, since learning to walk, he has come to love the neighbors' yard just for what it is, having nothing to do with his brothers and the many hours they spend playing there themselves.

She said yes! I can go! I'm gone!

The first thing Zeben likes to do when we get to the neighbors' is to visit the chickens (or "Kuh-kuhs"). These days, they're usually confined to the chicken tractor (to keep them out of the seedlings in the garden), so Zeben doesn't have to chase them all around the yard to get a good look. He can stand there staring at them for half an hour or longer if given the opportunity.

When he tires of watching the kuh-kuhs, he starts yelling, "bup! Bup! Buh-dup!" (that's Zeben for "jump"), and running toward the trampoline. We let Zeben on the tramp for the first time a couple months ago, and it was quite evident that he had previously spent a lot of time watching the big kids jump on it. He knew exactly what to do. And he loved it. And now he asks to jump at least once a day, and on the days when I say "yes," it is absolutely the best part of his day.

I think that's about as close as I've come to capturing joy with my camera so far.

Belated Rainbow Happenings

Two weeks ago, we took the kids to the 25th (or 26th?) Northampton Pride March and Rally. I remember being surprised when I first learned that our town even *had* a Pride March because a) it's such a small city (I spent my babydyke days chanting my way through the Boston Pride Parade, and laughed to think of what a Northampton Pride March would look like) and b) everyday is like a Pride march here! I mean, not exactly like a pride march, but we definitely live in a bubble. It's a fabulous bubble where lesbians abound and queerness surrounds, and it's not like we need to have a *march* to let people know, "we're here, we're queer, get used to it!" But, being the lovely group of queer folks that we are, we apparently still like to take to the streets and celebrate our queerness. And, it's no small affair either! This year there were apparently about 7,500 people there! It was a crowd. A very happy, cheerfully queer crowd.

I love bringing the kids to Pride because it's one of the only times when we really celebrate the fact that we're a queer family. It's just so regular for Luke and Jaz that they don't realize that our family is different from most. This year was the first time when I feel like they started to get it--not necessarily that our family is different--just that it's kind of special to have two moms at Pride. I also love bringing the kids to Pride just to expose them to the larger queer culture. I love that they get to see all the folks in drag and the nearly-naked gay boys dancing on the floats, and the dykes on bikes and the Trannies, and the gay marching band . . . and that they get to see how happy everyone is and how much fun they're having. And there were times when both Lena and I got a little teary, watching the group of "Catholic Parents Who Love Our Gay Children" march by, and the 80-year-old lesbians (what must Pride be like for them?), and the countless gay youth marching with their high school G/SAs.

Zeben was most impressed by the arch of rainbow balloons that are carried at the front of the parade and then tied down at the rally when the march is over.

It reminded me of how much Luke and Jaz loved the rainbow balloons when they were Zeb's age, and it was fun to find an old photo of them at Pride in 2004.

But I do want the kids to know that Pride is about more than just rainbows. The energy at Pride is so different now than it was when I was 16, marching through the streets of Boston ("2, 4, 6, 8, Don't Assume Your Kids Are Straight!"). It felt so important then. It was about making change happen and being part of a movement. And now it sometimes does feel a little bit like it's just about the rainbows, at least once the march itself is over. The rally is mostly a collection of booths where vendors sell everything rainbow you could ever want to buy, and gone are the days of motivational speeches and brave testimonies. Some of this is surely due to the fact that we've won a huge part of the fight (gay marriage is legal here now), but there's still a lot more fighting to do. And it's sad to see consumerism slinking its way in to what was once a purely activist experience.

On the way home, I was trying to start a conversation with Luke and Jaz about all of this, wanting to impart on to them what Pride is really about. They listened, but didn't say much. I asked them if they had any questions about anything they had seen, wondering if this would be the year when they'd realize exactly what it meant to be Transgender or what they'd thought of some of the more sexually explicit acts (there was nothing inappropriate, but definitely lots of stuff that the kids aren't used to seeing).

Lukas spoke up, "Actually, Mom, I did have one question about the Pride parade."

"What is it?"

"Remember that man who we saw doing a kind of dancing? The one who didn't have his shirt on? He was just wearing, like, underwear? And he was dancing?"

I braced myself.

"Well, I noticed he was dancing on the back of that truck, and do you think that was very safe? Because it didn't really look very safe to me, with the truck driving and him standing up and dancing!"

It was all I could do not to burst out laughing! That's Luke, always keeping safety at the top of the list!

In other Rainbow News, we have finally (after *years* of talking about it) made the switch to cloth toilet "paper." I hope this isn't too gross to mention here. But our new cloths are rainbow colored (organic flannel), and they're really quite lovely. Since we're already washing Zeben's cloth diapers, it's really not a big deal to add "Family Cloth," as it's most often called, to the mix.

Lena cutting an old diaper into small squares to use as Toilet Cloths (TC?).

Which would you prefer?

I guess I wouldn't feel quite so bothered by the Rainbow merchandise at Pride if they were selling rainbow-colored cloth TP! Maybe we can make Pride into a different sort of activist event!

A New Perspective

My baby is 18 months old today. We had carrot cupcakes after dinner and sang "Happy Half-Birthday To You," and Zeben gleefully blew out his one-and-a-half candles, and clapped for himself. I've always been into celebrating half-birthdays, but no one else in my life has ever really been that into it (until Luke and Jaz, of course). I guess I'll just take any excuse for a little party.

The 18-month mark is pretty significant for me because, as I recall, this is when it all went bad the first time around. Here's an excerpt from the journal I kept during Lukas and Jasper's toddlerhood:

This is really hard. It was seeming like as the boys got older, the twin aspect of their existence got easier and easier. They started playing together, entertaining each other. . . they could walk and communicate their needs. We were doing great.

And now we're just about at the 18-month mark and we are just DROWNING. I feel like it was easier when they were newborns. They still play together, but they fight together too. If we don't have two of any given toy, I'd rather not have one at all. I am just so exhausted. They can make mischief together so quickly (four little hands pulling everything out of a drawer, faster than my two hands can put it all back in). There is so much jealousy all the time. I feel I cannot possibly meet their needs. They want to nurse all the time, all the time, all the time.

They are still not sleeping through the night (they wake 3-4 times each)--although they are nightweaned now--and I think the sleep deprivation is really starting to get to me. I don't have the patience I want to have.

Of course there are still sweet and wonderful moments, and my boys obviously care about each other very much (they call each other "Duke" and "Jas"), but I am finding myself in that state of wishing I didn't have twins more and more and more (this does not mean that I wish I didn't have my children, just that they had been born one at a time).

I admit that I am a bit scarred from that time in my life. The whole thing of it was just so unexpected; I still thought that mothering would just get easier and easier as the kids got older, and then had the rude awakening at 18 months, and realized that there was no truth to that at all. I really have to search hard to find happy memories from that section of Luke and Jaz's development (in keeping with their insane status, they managed to break our film camera, our digital camera and our video camera all right at about 18 months, so we have no documentation of the months of misery). So there's part of me that's been sort of dreading going through this stage again with Zeben.

But, of course, it's completely different this time. Some parts are actually remarkably the same. Like the totally unreasonable tantrums and random meltdowns and ear-piercing screaming stints. The times when Zeben yells at me to pick him up and then arches out of my arms only to demand that I pick him up again . . . it's definitely familiar. BUT--and it's a really big but--there's only one of him. Instead of spending my days managing the relationship of two one-year-olds, I spend my days (while Luke and Jaz are at preschool), in total bliss with my one one-year-old. We've been going on a lot of long bike rides, with Zeb in the seat on the front of my bike. We've been spending a lot of time playing at the parks, and just sitting, watching birds. Life is calm when it's just Zeb and me, despite his 18-month-old state of disequilibrium. I have no trouble meeting all of his needs, and I love being able to meet them so entirely. And he is learning new things (words, mostly) everyday, and it's really quite fascinating to witness his rapid development right now.

I think the other part of the difference the second time around is just that we've done this before. I know how fleeting this stage is, I know that really, Zeben is still a baby, and I know that I will miss this part when he's 3 and doesn't need me the way he does now. He nurses all the time, he empties drawers, he doesn't come close to sleeping through the night, but I just feel so much more Zen about it all. Mothering Zeben still feels easy breezy compared to mothering my five-year-olds, and I'm guessing that this is a trend that will continue throughout Zeben's childhood.

Here I am, with one-and-a-half-year-old Luke and Jaz, tandem nursing standing up. Looks totally peaceful, right? I think I did sort of enjoy the craziness of it all.

And here I am with my current one-and-a-half-year-old nursling. So much simpler. . . But wait, what are those hands doing on my shoulder?

I remember being so excited to have just one baby, and everyone reminding me, "well, but you'll still have your twins even if you have only one baby." And thank goodness I still have my twins. And, yes, they do still make things a little crazy. But, compared to nursing two toddlers while standing up, nursing one toddler with a 5-year-old strapped to my back is a piece of cake.

Lukas needed some time in the Ergo after a sandbox incident, and Zeben needed to nurse. This is multitasking at its finest (note that I am not only nursing a toddler while wearing a five-year-old, I am taking the picture too!). My one wish for the rest of Zeben's toddlerhood is that I am able to keep my current perspective and enjoy him through all the crazy moments to come.

My Favorite Number

For as long as I can remember, my favorite number has been 28. I don't exactly remember why or how I came to choose this number as the best number, but I believe that it had something to do with it being fun to write (all those curves) and unique (everyone else's favorite numbers were between 1 and 15, or so it seemed), and the fact that my mom had been 28 when I was born. 28 is the number I count to before making myself get out of bed in the morning. It's the number that makes me smile when it appears randomly on a license plate, a bus, or a rugby jersey. And, now, finally, after years of anticipation, I am 28 years old.

I was born on Mother's Day in 1980. I came three weeks after my "due date," and was, of course, simply the best Mother's Day present my mother had ever received. My birth announcement:

I've always loved the fact that I was born on Mother's Day. I've always been so infatuated with mothers and babies, and it was just "cool" to have been born on a holiday--regardless of how legitimate or significant the holiday was. When I was six, Mother's Day once again coincided with my birthday, and I took it upon myself to map out all of my impending birthdays in order to figure out which birthdays would fall on Mother's Day in the future. This was actually fairly complicated math--I can't even begin to imagine figuring it out now with my mushy breastfeeding brain, but I could do it at age 6--and, as I recall, the results were fairly disappointing. I wouldn't have a birthday on Mother's Day again until I was 17. What a long time to wait. And, truth be told, I can't imagine that it was nearly as exciting at 17 as I imagined it would be when I was 6. But my 23rd birthday also fell on Mother's Day, and it was quite special indeed since it was my first Mother's Day as a mother. Luke and Jaz were almost 3 months old, and I couldn't have wished for a better birthday-Mother's Day collision.

So it is perfect that my 28th birthday would also fall on Mother's Day, since 28 is my favorite number and having my birthday on Mother's Day has such a special history for me. And it was such a perfect day. Lena let me sleep in, and when I did wake up, it was to kisses from Luke and Jaz and a smiling Zeben sweetly asking to nurse. It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day (I've had many, many rainy birthdays), and Lena had filled our house with flowers cut from the garden (lilacs, and daffodils, and tulips, oh my!). It smelled amazing. Right away, the kids presented me with the cards they had made.

From Lukas. (Lukas, Zeben and a rainbow (I love rainbows)).

The oustide of the card from Jaz. (Jaz and me playing soccer).


The inside of the card from Jaz. (Jaz and me riding an elephant (I love elephants)).

From Zeben

After the cards, there were gifts to open, all wrapped beautifully in playsilks (no trash!). Lena gifted me with a clothesline (which she later set up for me and it's fabulous), a bike rack for the back of my bike (no more need to wear a backpack while riding!), and tickets to an Ani Difranco concert in July (I can't wait!). The boys gave me some fabulous kitchen gadgets that I really needed (including a way-cool shot glass with teaspoon and tablespoon measurements), and a new bath pillow. I loved everything.

I got to do everything that I wanted to do on my birthday. I ate all of my most favorite foods, saw several of my most favorite people, and did many of my most favorite things. I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful 28th birthday, and I have high hopes for the rest of this year. I am definitely going to work as hard as I can to live all of my dreams and enjoy being 28 for as long as it lasts.

Let the Games Begin

Today was the first day of the rest of our lives. More spec- ifically, today was the first day of t-ball. We signed Jaz and Luke up to play through the town's recreation department, and in doing so signed away our Saturday mornings for the next 10 years.

There isn't anything much cuter than a group of 4 and 5-year-olds playing baseball. Adding to the cuteness factor is the team uniform of t-shirts 4 sizes too big. I don't entirely understand this part of the plan, since I can't imagine Luke and Jaz will want to wear shirts that say "t-ball" on them when they're 12 (which is when the shirts will actually fit). Perhaps the point is just to exemplify the fact that the kids are probably too little to really play the game. Whatever the reason, it is extra endearing for sure.

Here are some shots of Jaz, the all-star player in the infield:

Clearly, he is having a great time.

Things did pick up a bit, and he got a chance to practice catching and throwing. I love the look of concentration on his face.

But what about our other all-star player? Didn't I say that we had signed Jaz and Luke up for t-ball? True to form, Luke was excited to watch Jaz play but had absolutely zero interest in playing himself. He sat in my lap and ate rice cakes instead. But he kept his eyes on the game the whole time.It's a shame that you have to be four years old to play, because Zeb would have happily taken Luke's place on the team.It was all we could do to keep him off the baseball diamond.

Towards the end of practice, Luke was starting to warm up a bit and decided he was ready to put on his shirt and hat. Progress! He happily danced around on the grass next to the diamond and seemed totally comfortable. He says that next week he'll be ready to play. We'll see.Jaz was so proud of himself, and so pleased with the whole scene. He's already counting down the days until next Saturday. The boys' team name is "The Red Sox," which thrills them to no end, but I think it also confuses them a little. On the way home, Jaz asked, "so, does this mean that we'll always be on the Red Sox team? And then when we're dads we'll be on the Red Sox on tv?" Umm, not exactly . . . but a boy can dream, right?