Merry Christmas

I feel that the husband and I went through a rite of passage this year, it felt like the first christmas where we were the adults of our very own family (technically, it's the second). On Christmas Eve we put the girls to bed and prepared our home for the big reveal the following morning. This mainly consisted of me drinking wine and eating edamame while sloppily wrapping gifts. George deftly assembled the BIG gifts, a rocking horse and an inch worm, while sipping his single malt. (Those of you of my generation should have fond memories of riding the inch worm until you were too old and too large and it groaned under the weight of your growing frame as you rode it around the neighborhood--sort of like when the sit-n-spin no longer spun cause your ass was just too big!)



Thankfully the girls are still too young to lose sleep over Christmas or to have specific ideas of what a proper pile of christmas loot should be. However, unlike last year, they are old enough to be excited and sense the shift in the atmosphere that says "HOLIDAY". We weren't disappointed. They wandered around the transformed living room as if it was a magical place and happily ripped open gifts and enjoyed their new toys--especially the play tent.









The weather over the holiday weekend was cold and rainy which meant almost 80 straight house-bound hours--a lot to take with two toddlers alternating between joyously bouncing off the walls and throwing temper tantrums. We were rewarded for our patience on Sunday with 50 degree weather and a lots of sunshine. We packed the girls up and were out all day visiting the children's museum, the park and having dinner out with friends. (Can I repeat that in all caps, please, for the sheer novelty of this most simple social activity after almost two years of isolation, DINNER OUT WITH FRIENDS!!!!)

What you don't see...

Ahhhhh, the happy family! Cherubs in fuzzy pajamas staring in wonder at pristine snow. Cherubs in snow gear snuggling on the loving lap of their doting mother.

But what you don't see is that in between snapping the photo of the girls in the window (exhibit A) and snapping the photo of them on my lap (exhibit B) is the utter chaos and frustration that hubby and I went through to get from A to B.

Heating in Brooklyn brownstones, and probably most NYC dwellings, is based on old-school steam radiators which swing wildly between "no different than being outside in the cold in your underwear" to "hellish hot swamp". Our apartment was in hellish hot swamp mode and the physical exertion it took to wrangle two toddlers into snow gear had us in a torrential downpour of sweat, panting in desperation, and cursing each other for thinking that a snow experience was some mandatory parental obligation.

The girls were finally ready but we still had to wrap ourselves up in multiple layers to lead our little ones into the great blizzard. Meanwhile, the Cherubs were frantically clawing at their necks in a futile attempt to free themselves of their warm waterproofed outer shells. Poor things were crying in frustration as they began to overheat. But we were too invested in the experiment, we couldn't back out!

As we opened the front door a blast of cold air greeted us and we all smiled, it had been worth it! We tottered down the stoop, through the gate and onto the sidewalk. The girls were giggling, enthralled, fascinated. Hubby and I were smug and delighted.

Then, a child fell, felt the cold wet snow, and FREAKED out! The fallen child's wails of despair freaked out the standing child and both turned to the now not so smug parents crying "carry me!"

Which leads us to B, mama pinned underneath two children on a cold wet stoop. Happy Holidays!

Sunbathing

Reading a friend's blog recently, I was reminded of my own looming anxiety about being trapped indoors for a long northeastern winter with two restless children. So far it hasn't been too bad but winter only officially arrives next Monday and the coldest, darkest days are still ahead of us. Living very close to several good friends will provide some respite, as will playdates and indoor activities, but I'm already living for the spring! Last Saturday might have been one of the last days when strolling with the girls around the neighborhood wasn't an invitation to hypothermia. We did a little sun worshipping outside the library with some older Russian gentlemen before heading inside to read stories and let off a little cabin fever steam.

Slacker Mom and Brilliant Children

Slacker Mom

Once again I've been called out for being a slacker with my posting. It's true! But I have a good excuse, really. Recently I've been given additional responsibilities at work, that I dearly desired and asked for. But this means when I'm at the office I actually have to work like a little demon with nary a spare moment for blogging. Sigh! On top of that my little angels are night owls and generally don't hit the sack until 10pm (sometimes 11--ouch!), my reward, however, is sleeping in until 8.30 or 9 on the weekends which is not a normal occurrence for a mother of twin toddlers.

Thanksgiving was fantastic low-key fun with my sister and her husband visiting us from Dallas. No pictures exist since Mama started drinking at 1pm. (I was compelled to take advantage of the 4 to 2 adult-child ratio in a constructive way.) I'm not embarrassed to admit my focus was to guzzle as much alcohol as possible and I was not at all concerned with capturing that special day on film. C'est la vie.

I thought I should also mention that my children are BRILLIANT. Ahem...at 22 months they identify letters and shapes.

Brilliant Children
For example, when I said "Pinot Noir" in conversation with my equally lush sister over the long Thanksgiving weekend, in the context of "what should we drink next", my girl Mimi thought she heard "piano". She ran from the room yelling "piano, piano", ZZ quickly followed, also yelling "piano, piano." "Mama, P for Piano, P for Pig, PPP," pointing to the letter P on their play mat and picking up their "P" book and showing me the images. This means that it's not just the shape of the letter P they recognise, but they are associating the letter with its sound! AMAZING! They were barely talking 6 weeks ago and now they are on the verge of spelling. They identify all of their colors and shapes with ease, but what freaks me out, dear reader, is that my girls can differentiate between a pentagon, hexagon and octagon--seriously freaky! They are getting numbers, sort of, some correct verb usage and using plurals where appropriate. Their language is flourishing.

Here are the best of our most recent photos, enjoy.

Party Dresses





MiMi's Smile



ZZ at Bar Tabac



Snack Time