Pink logs and other observations and activities

No go on the pictures still.  Something happened to the only computer that can attach pictures.  The computer I'm on now is so old (how old is it?), it has a floppy drive (remember those?).  So until I can recount our trip with pics (hopefully I'll still remember what happened on that trip, I think I have a mass exodus of brain cells daily), I'll have to fill in with little twin tidbits.

Really think twice before taking toddlers (especially ones named Micah) to one of those restaurants where they cook "teppan" style (at your table).  Because when you catch said toddler using both hands to literally toss his salad, and you ask what he's doing, and he says, "cooking," you have no one to blame but yourself.

Even little kids know when their dad has been working a lot.  Here is Micah's prayer from the other day: "God a food, Dad at work A-GAIN, uh, uh, uh, dove in trees, uh, uh, birds, Amen!"  While we are on the subject of prayers, Micah and Kara both insist on praying at least once a day, more if we let them.  Kara's prayers are usually short, with much unintellligible, though on day she prayed, "Gog (God), food, Micah, home, fafe (safe), amen!" Micah had been running errands with Dad, and she missed her twin.  Say it with me, "Ahhhhhhh."  Micah's prayers are often a verbal stream of consciousness, like this: "Thanka God, food, Dad, safe, fire engine, garbage truck come, cans, dump stinky diapers, (interrupted by a burp, followed by a giggle), uh, make an "x", uh Elmo, fire engine, Amen!" I guess the scary thing is that I understood it all.

We are still in potty training mode, and we consider it a special victory when the WTs go #2 in the toilet.  Consequently, the twins are particularly eager for us to see their, er, "productions." Micah called me in one day to see his "output" and Potty Coach Kara was in there as well.  As I walk in to take a glance, I notice a pink log floating in the toilet.  As I say, "What is that?"  Micah says, "Kara did it." Not sure what kind of coaching methodology this was, but she threw one side of a pink toothbrush case in with the other floating objects.  Needless to say, I made sure the WTs were far away when I took a chopstick and fished the case out and deposited it in the garbage.

Our daughter who was labeled "mentally retarded" in China is one clever cookie (though she refers to herself as "Momma sugar pie").  I was giving her a potty pep talk one day and showed her the underwear I had bought to use once training was complete.  Well of course she wanted to use them right then and there, but I told her no, she had to keep her diapers and pull-ups dry all the time first.  That set her off and she started to wail and drama queen it.  I decided to leave her to her drama (she was sitting on the toilet at the time), and went into the kitchen.  A few minutes later she announces she is done and I tell her that I'll be there in a minute.  Before I can make it to the bathroom, she turns the corner and shouts a very triumphant "Ha-HA!" That little stinker had  pulled the underwear over her pull-up, and her shorts over her underwear.  And that my friends, it called getting around the system.

I will not quit my day job to become an investigator.  One day I heard Kara crying so I went to investigate.  Both Micah and Kara were sitting in the hallway, and I immediately became suspicious as to the reason for her distress.  She had a mark on her, so I began interrrogating the only suspect I had.  "Micah, how did Kara get this owie?" (Micah feigns concern) "Ooo, oh,  yes." "How did she get  the owie?" (Now the suspect begins to look around, avoiding my penetrating gaze) "Oh, uh (smacks lips), uh (smack), she fell backyard."  "Micah, you two were not in the backyard today.  How did Kara get her owie?" "Oh, (smack), uh, (smack), she hit the door."  "She hit the door? "Uh, (smack), yes." Before I could ask the question again,  the suspect offers a third explanation, "She hit the wall, right here"  (runs over to a wall with a small spot on it and points to that spot).  Realizing I am getting nowhere fast, I turn to the victim whom I am sure will give up her brother as the perpetrator readily.  You can imagine my surprise, when on questioning, she made this statement, "Fall, whoa, backyard, like that   She corroborated his story! (well, at least one of them).  I had no choice, but to let the suspect go free.

Beware the quiet.  You would think I would know this one by now.  (Remember what I said about my brain cells?)  I had one of those eerily quiet moments one day, so I went to investigate.  I came upon a rather comical scene.  Kara was scolding Micah, who was standing on a chair reaching into the candy jar.  She was saying, "Micah, get down!"  That was followed by an "Oooooo."  When I let my presence by known, Micah was under the table furiously trying to unwrap something.  Kara was getting off the chair with a piece of gum (foil and all) in her mouth trying to look innocent.  When I called Micah's name, he tried to throw me off with the "answer a question with a question" technique.  When I asked what he was doing, he held up the contraband item and asked, "Uh, is this a lollipop Mom?" Nice try, kid.

Hey, a shout out to my readers from Norway.  It might interest you to know that my kids are part Viking, part Samurai.  That kind of makes things make sense, doesn't it?

Simple theology by Kara and Micah's new occupation

I know, I know, I promised pictures! Sorry, maybe this weekend?

I just had to blog about my daughter's profound spiritual insight.  Last week my community group (basically a Bible study group) was discussing how we can be more "others oriented" (I'm just plain oriental).  I got the answer the day after our discussion.

Kara climbed onto the couch with our hymnal, opened it up (upside down of course), and started singing this song, "Jesus, me! Jesus, me! Jesus, me, Karlaaaaaa!" (she and Micah both call her "Karla.")  As I heard her song, it hit me like a thunderclap, that's the way to be others oriented! If we go around singing "Jesus, me!"  and thinking about Jesus first, our song will become "Jesus, others, me! Jesus, others, me!" What a sage I have for a daughter!  Oh, and what song was Micah singing later that day?  It went like this, "I am cute! I am cute! I am cuu-ute!"  Okay, one out of two twins, not bad.

Micah has a new occupation.  I discovered it when I was busy in the kitchen and heard Micah huffing and puffing.  He'd run in, pick something up, and run out.  At one point he ran in and (acting out of breath) said, "Mom, (huff puff) I (huff puff) do hard works!" "Hard works, huh? Good job, babe," I murmur, just glad that he seems to be keeping himself very occupied.  I think Kara was minding her own business, probably wanting to disassociate herself with the activities on hand. 

This running around by Micah went on for some time.  I did hear some minor crashing type sounds, but nothing out of the ordinary.  Finally I decided to investigate.  I discovered that his "hard works" consisted of putting anything that wasn't nailed down into a large laundry basket.  Micah announced, "I dumpa garbage.  I do hard works!"  His "garbage" included a pair of my shoes, lots of blocks, cars, coasters, a Bible, a remote control, some laundry, a few cups, throw pillows, a DVD, more shoes, I think a math book, and lots and lots of toys that were "dumpa-ed" in there.  Hey, I was just happy that I did not find Kara at the bottom of that pile!

Totally off subject, but I heard that there was such a thing as a "fashion blogger."  I heard a self-proclaimed fashion blogger say that in order to keep up her blog, she has to go shopping almost every day so she can blog about what she's bought.  I have often thought I live in an alternate reality.  Now I'm sure of it!

BTW, our youngest son very recently turned two.  It's hard to miss out on that milestone, but we're looking forward to celebrating his next birthday with him at home with his family!

Pictures next time, really!!!!

Potty training the pair and Froisland child #6

OOOps! Guess I didn't post at all in August. I really think I had a summer. I know there was a summer, I just don't remember having one. Because here it is, time for school and all the frenzy that fall brings. I think someone stole my summer.

August was a blur, owing to a 10 day trip we took back east. I'm just mentioning it now, as it deserves a blog entry of its own. I'm just waiting for technical difficulties to clear up so I can post pictures of my trip. It was an adventure, are you surprised?

So, we are working on pottty training the twins. We were not planning on potty training them at once, because well, that's just plain crazy. Which is what we are. We started with Kara, then Micah (who misses nothing), caught on to the scam. He gets people to read book after book to him while they wait for action, he drips a little in the potty, his parents cheer, then he gets "em-nems." Kara is definitely in it for the "em-nems" (M&Ms) as well as hearing whichever poor sap is on "potty surveillance" recite "Hey Diddle Diddle" a ba-jillion times or sing "Wheels on the Bus" a ga-trillion times.

Our trip back east set us back a bit, but we're pressing on. The WTs can be very cute in encouraging one another. Micah was in the bathroom with Kara today, feeding her pretzels while she sat. Pretty soon I hear, "Yea Kara! Good job!" I'm familiar with those phrases as Micah will personalize them for me when I emerge from the bathroom. Hey, who doesn't like a little positive affirmation?

By the way, Kara just turned three (or "fwee" as she says). Micah thinks he is now three as well. He may be wrong about that, but if you ask him where he lives, he'll tell you "California." If he gets injured and you ask where he got his "owie," he'll tell you "California." It's his new word. I also heard him utter the word "sacrifice" the other day, and I am reminded that he is two going on twenty. He revealed at the dinner table that "I the heartbreak boy."

Now about child #6. Where do I begin? Well it's actually kind of tough because I'm not sure what I can reveal at this point. What I can say is that God has produced miracle after miracle and is continuing to wow us.

The first miracle occurred the end of June. For those of you who know the book of Esther, I liken it to the night the king couldn't sleep. After that point, everything in the story changes.

We had just met with our social worker two weeks earlier. We were discussing moving forward on a second adoption, once again going to China for another girl. We were going to try to expedite things a little so we could combine post-adoption meetings with pre-adoption meetings. We were looking at getting paperwork into China by October. That was our plan.

Back to the night I couldn't sleep (I guess the "queen" couldn't sleep?). I decided to work on some adoption paperwork, but took a sidetrip to our agency's portal. On the portal there are pictures and information about certain adoptable kids (information only available to adoptive parents). I'd seen this particular little face before, but kept passing it up. "Something/One" made me click on the picture just "out of curiosity." I was hooked. I was looking at my future son. Yes, my future son. That was a miracle. I wanted a girl. I did not want a boy. I have three boys. Little boys require a lot of energy to manage. You want to hear the clincher? Can I give you a really big laugh? This little guy is just a few months YOUNGER than Micah! Yes, the wonder twins will become the wonder triplets (at least I can still call them "WTs"). Didn't I tell you we were crazy?

Much more to this story, but this queen needs to sleep!

Next blog entry, pics, I promise!

Prince Charming or Prince Challenging?

Our littlest guy can pour on the charm. I mean really thick. Thick like molasses in February. It's hard not to admire his skills. We were at a restaurant the other day and I was able to watch him in action. He has the precision of a Navy SEAL as he zeroes in on his target(s). Pretty young ladies in particular seem to fall prey to his wiley ways. He puts on this coy routine that involves closing his eyes and turning that muppety moppity head of his. Simple but effective. He gets the standard response, "Ahhhhhhhhh, how cuuuuuuute!" Yes, sometimes I just roll my eyes at the spectacle.

We at home, of course, get to see the other side of him. Usually he is pretty even-tempered, but he went through a two week phase in which he threw some King Kong sized tantrums. Three to be exact. Tantrums are not something we are used to. I am definitely a "don't give the drama to your mama" kind of person. So I was caught off guard by his performances (none of which occurred in the privacy of our own home, OF COURSE). Oh, can I also add that the father was absent for each one?

The first volcanic explosion happened at the beauty salon (no, I did not ask for it by taking him there). I took the WTs to my hairdresser to get shorn. I had Kara go first so Micah could watch and be comfortable about what was transpiring. This was not his first haircut, but his hair has been cut before by a friend (an adult friend, that is). Kara was fine as I expected, and all was going well. To save time, my hairdresser asked another gal to cut Micah's hair. That little change tripped some kind of switch and the haircut hellion was born. He absolutely flipped out, and he was even sitting on my lap. I don't know, maybe he thought he was Samson and he'd lose strength if his hair was cut. It took three of us to hold him still, and the end result was that he looked like a Beatles Muppet.

The second bomb went off in the doctor's office. Let me just say that all my kids have loved Dr. Ng. Not a one of them ever gave him any grief, Micah has been fine all the other times we've seen Dr. Ng. But this was a day in the two weeks of terror and he must have felt compelled to perform. Once again, Micah sat on my lap for supposed comfort and he still squirmed and wormed and twisted and resisted. I even had all hands on deck with the sibs present. I apologized for Micah's behavior and told Dr. Ng that the 3OS (older siblings) had been "textbook kids" and had always been good for him. He said, "No, you had three unusual kids (make that four) and now you have one textbook kid. He's acting normal." Did I say the kids love Dr. Ng? The parents think he's pretty fantastic too.

The last atom splitting episode took place at my in-laws' house. I love my in-laws, I enjoy spending time with my in-laws, I felt really bad for my in-laws. They had to concede that they were biologically connected with the toddler terrorist. Our visit had been going very well, one of my sisters-in-law and her daughter came up so we were able to spend time with them as well. As we were cleaning up to go, I did the unthinkable... I asked Micah to pick up a block. That little stinker plopped himself down and said, "No." The battle lines were drawn. Now remember, I am a parenting veteran. This kid is the youngest of five. I even have a master's degree in psychology. I have a teaching credential. I taught preschool for 13 years. Did any of that help? Not one little bit. It was brutal, it was ugly, it was loud. I was sure animal control was going to show up to pick up the deranged animal that was loose in the house.

Finally, after making him pick up that block, I took him (as he was kicking and screaming) out to the car. I had to force him into the carseat and then I shut the door. I admit, that was satisfying. I then went in to get Kara (the 3OS were with my parents), who was showing everyone that she was the sweetest, most well-behaved child on the planet. Micah fell asleep for the last five minutes of the 10 minute ride to my parents' house where we were spending the night. I thought that for sure he would go back to sleep once I put him in his bed. Silly, silly woman am I. He revved up his engines and away he went with tantrum part 2.

I let him scream and cry, knowing he needed the sleep. I'd wait him out. Well after an hour of his theatrics, I started nodding off on the couch. Kara was walking around and reached for something on the counter, accidentally knocking a glass onto the floor. I jumped up and raced to move her so she wouldn't get cut by broken glass. When that glass hit the floor, something magical happened. It broke the evil spell my cherub was under. Yelling ceased from his room. Instead, the questions came. "Mommy, what was that?" "It was glass breaking, Micah." "Oh. Get out?" "No, not yet. Mommy has to clean up the glass." "Oh. Okay. Glass break?" "Yes, the glass broke." "Oh. Kara did it?" "Yes, Kara did it. It was an accident." "Oh. Get out?" "Almost, I'm still cleaning up." "Oh. Okay." When Micah was finally released from his prison, he was all sunshine and roses. He also had the nerve to look me in the eye and say, "Micah. Good attitude." I have met my match.

Here's a picture of two blanket burritos.

And here is the family, not yet complete...but that's another story...

The robbers' den and twin tidbits

The twins have found a new hiding place to take their spoils - underneath the kitchen table. I didn't say it was a clever hiding place, especially since I spend the majority of my day in that room. However, they do know that Mom must use the restroom at least once per day...

The other day I found them there with a small baggie of contraband pita chips. I guess I should be glad that they were at least sharing. Before that they managed to stage a major coup. Mom had an absolute lapse of common sense and left a half gallon of chocolate soy milk and a gallon of nonfat milk on the table (the "roof" of the den) to take a phone call. I left the room briefly (which is an eternity when wonder twin power activates). When I returned I found Micah taking swigs from the half gallon while Kara was stashing other stolen goods in the gallon. Two pens and a plastic spoon came out when I poured the milk out into another container.

Hmmm, is Micah trying out for clown camp? Perhaps channeling his inner mime? Is Kara painting on her war paint to do battle against the mom? Try eating Desitin from the diaper bag.

Must be the cod liver oil. Mmmmmmm.

The WTs have each other's backs. When one needs assistance, the other will come for help. Micah will give the whole explanation, "Mommy! Kara! Uh, uh, stuck! Couch! Come here!" (That's for when Kara gets herself wedged between the couch and wall. Happens fairly often). Kara will take what I call the "Lassie" approach. She'll run in and say, "Micah! Uh oh!" and then she'll start going into the other room. She'll stop to make sure you are following her, then run to where Micah is. Which is usually stuck between the couch and the wall. Funny though, Micah didn't say anything when Kara was stuck between the front door and the security door. (There is a big gap between the doors.) Maybe it's because he trapped her there. I heard the front door close (we often leave it open for air flow since we have the security doors) and a muffled voice. I turned the corner to see Micah in front of the closed door with (no kidding) hands over his mouth giggling gleefully.

I finish this with a shot of our cool crew:

Oh, and by the way, we're expecting again! Well...sort of. We have officially started the process to adopt again. Yes, we may be experiencing triplets. I've been told I'm crazy, and I'd have to agree.

Two twos - a study in contrasts

When Micah turned two on May 23, I found myself with two two-year-olds. Some people think that things must be even crazier now, but in actuality, things are getting a little easier. True, there are many days that I turn the corner and see scenes like this:

We also have our share of hair-raising experiences:

As well as moments (many, many moments) of comic relief:

One day I had just the WT 2-2s and I noted that they are very different people. In particular, I noted differences in the following areas:

Eating: Micah is a very neat eater. At dinner he was holding his ear of corn gingerly, turning it over and over to figure out where to take a bite. He'd ask, "Eat this? Here?" Meanwhile I look at Kara who has decided to make ketchup handprints, complete with a "Hah!"

Songs: Kara insists on having "Mr. Sun" sung ad naseum when it's time to go to bed. You know, it's the song that asks "Mr. Sun" to "please come out so we can play with you." Micah's favorite song is "Little Bunny Foo Foo." It's the song that talks about LBFF having a bad attitude and bopping things on the head until he gets turned into a goon by the good fairy. Oh yes, it's "POW! She turned him into a goon."

Favorite food: Micah is a confirmed carnivore. He cannot get enough "shoo-shaw" (known to the common man as "sausage."). Kara has never met a fruit or vegetable she hasn't liked.

Entertainment: Micah really enjoys videos. He watches them with much interest and makes comments while he's watching so you know he understands what is going on. Right now he is really into "Bob the Builder." Kara is interested in the theme music. Actually the thing that she enjoys watching the most is packed with action, high drama, and a satisfying resolution. She loves to watch microwave popcorn pop.

Reading: Micah is obsessed with "Cowardly Clyde." It's a long book that we take turns reading so as not to wear out our vocal chords. Micah has much of it memorized and will quote from it (his newest quote is, "Ogre turn to be horrified."). Kara likes her books short and simple. It's a winner if it has a beat to it. Her favorite is "Hand hand fingers thumb." It is a literary masterpiece that contains lines such as, "Dum ditty dum ditty dum dum dum." The last time I read "Cowardly Clyde" Micah was sitting to my left, soaking up every word. Kara was on my left. A few pages in and Kara flipped herself backward and started to snore.

Favorite activity: Micah likes to swing anything that resembles a sword and shout "En garde!" He also pretends to get hit and does an impressive Shakespearean death scence (complete with sound effects, "Uhhhhh!). Kara likes to try on shoes. Anyone's shoes.

Physique: Kara is delicate, somewhat wirey. Micah is a chunky monkey.

These two twos are definitely two of a kind!

Sous chefs

We do a lot of cooking and baking in this household. The picture above is our fantastic five in the space where our new oven would go.

Here the oldest three are showing off the Red Velvet cake they made from scratch (someone snuck into the picture). They're on their way to becoming accomplished bakers. Then there are the budding sous chefs...

They are honing their skills in the following areas:

Testing the freshness of ingredients - cinnamon, pepper, cumin, chili powder, and lemonade powder. Here are the twins reacting to the lemonade powder.

Here the WTs are learning about portion control. Hopefully they realized that dumping a whole box of Kix cereal on the floor is not an example of an appropriate serving size.

Micah likes to test the ripeness of oranges by shouting "Boing!" and bouncing the oranges on the ground.

The WTs both know about viscosity. If you are not quick enough when washing their hands, they'll lick the handsoap and exclaim, "Honey!"

Even though James and I do not drink wine, apparently the WTs are practicing wine tasting. They enjoy swishing and spitting out their water, only they like to redrink it.

Micah understands the need to taste test your food. Thankfully when he decided to take one of my teaspoons and drink a spoonful of toilet water, no one had "created" anything in the bowl!

Who knows? One day they may become celebrity chefs. They sure look the part!