Grammy and Grandpa, August 13, 2012

We make frequent trips to Orlando to pick visiting friends and family up at the airport, but I think this was the first one Devon really understood.  It's hard to explain long distance living to a toddler.  One day people come, later on they go.  It doesn't make any sense to someone who has yet to comprehend how very big the world is and how sometimes we have to live apart from those we love.

"Tomorrow we are going to the airport to pick up Grammy and Grandpa!" I said to him the night before.

"Talk A-Grammy?" Devon said, pointing to my iPhone.

"Grammy and Grandpa are coming to our house, Devon!"  He paused to think on this a moment, and the flush of recognition slowly spread across his face.  Perhaps he was thinking of Christmas, the last time we were all together.

"To o-UR  ho-USE!" he shouted, turning up the ends of every word like question marks in his excitement.  He ran a few energetic circles around, stopping to show me the guest bedroom where they would be sleeping, the basketball hoop where they would throw balls for him, and the stroller they would use to take him "swimming in the cool".

 We waited in the cell phone lot for an hour, long enough for a late afternoon Florida downpour to subside and lightning to move far enough away for the luggage to be safely unloaded.  The interior of our roomy van was starting to feel a bit cramped, with me hopping over the seats from middle to back to front again because I didn't want to open the door and get wet.  Bottles of water I brought for the travelers were emptied into sippies so the kids had something to do while they waited.

Devon kicked his legs in excitement as he saw Grammy and Grandpa swing their suitcases into the back of the van and climb into the car next to him.  There weren't many quiet minutes to contemplate the joy of finally being together.  In the Cracker Barrel on Semorran Drive they plunged headlong into the three toddler lifestyle, moving plates away from grabby fingers and spooning soft mashed carrots into hungry mouths.

Just like that, life got a little easier.  We're used to two adults and three children in our house, or what is commonly called "zone defense."  Normal means being outnumbered.  When the count shifts to four adults and three children, it shows.

Grammy sits by Devon as he eats his "cheevies and yorgitt", making sure he takes little bites and doesn't slop on the floor.

There are extra hands to push the strollers, so Mommy and Daddy hold hands on their nightly walk.

Grammy and Grandpa open their suitcases and lots of new things appear.  Devon, usually averse to anything touching his head, suddenly won't leave the house without his new Cars cap.

It helps that Grandpa always wears his cap, too.

When Devon grabs a comb and tries to comb his hair, Grandpa shows him how you have to remove your hat first.

Devon gets Big Boy Underwear!  The adults sit around in a semicircle as Devon sits on Froggy Potty, staring at him like the goose that lays the golden eggs.

The girls get new outfits!  Twins are just so much fun to dress.

Thanks to the new Bubble Puppy, Mommy can press a button and make bubbles while holding a girl with the other hand.

Melina isn't sure what to make of her first bubble time.

She soon decides she likes it.

Carrie and Melina get wonderful handmade blankets from a dear friend.  Before I graduated from college, started work, bought a house, and had three children, I really enjoyed quilting.  It means a lot to me when other people handmake things for my kids to enjoy now that I don't feel I can spare the time.

Grammy gets the kids hooked on 50's dance music on Pandora.

When the girls get sick, she holds them.

Grandpa puts together the girls' new wagon on their birthday.  It takes an hour and a half and two calls to the Radio Flyer hotline.

When he's not doing something with the kids, Grandpa is behind the video camera.  Devon climbs up into his lap and begs to watch the footage he's just captured.

That explains why Mommy's such a whiz with her camera phone.  Yep, it's all genetic.

We enjoy our favorite evening walk at the Jaycee beach boardwalk.

We watch some parasurfers and marvel again about actually living in a beach town.

It's so nice to have extra hands to hold the camera and take a picture.  So many times I am enjoying a perfect moment with my family and wish I had a spare hand to take a photo.

Or twelve.

Two weeks go very quickly in a house with three toddlers.  We go out to eat a few times on our last weekend together, remarking on how the kids have grown even in such a short time.

We talk, laugh, and enjoy our time together, even as the shared meal starts to feel a bit like The Last Supper.  Grammy and Grandpa have to go home.

The reality hit Devon hard this time.  We loaded the much thinner suitcases in the van and drove them to the airport.  Devon's usual bouncing good humor was periodically interrupted by pensive moments I rarely see in a toddler.  Devon watched as we unloaded at the Southwest gate and kissed goodbye, removing his shoes and pushing his hands into them.

As we pulled away from the curb, Devon's suspicions were confirmed.  "Grandpa!  Grandpa!" he called, clapping the shoes on his hands together and starting to cry.  I watch in the rear view mirror as my son, now just old enough to understand, discovers loss for the very first time.

He didn't wake up the next morning asking "Where did the Grammy go?  I don't know where the Grammy is!" like he usually does.  He gets it now.  We can't always be together.

It isn't any easier on the adults, none of whom are strangers to living apart from family. Years ago it was my mom looking forward to visits from my Grandma Meth.  She was the one being picked up from the airport bearing gifts, wisdom, and a pair of extra hands.  The two little girls in the picture were myself and my cousin Naomi.

We enjoy our times together, saving up pictures and memories to get us through long months apart. 

Happy Birthday! August 1, 2012

.

Carrie and Melina celebrated one year of life on Wednesday.  Grammy's side of the family, the Meths, would also call this birthday their Golden Birthday, meaning that their age (1) equals the day of their birthday (August 1st). That means their birthday celebration is supposed to be extra special.  I can't imagine how much more special you can get than my sweet girls crawling pertly around in their pink tutus and "I'm the Birthday Girl" cupcake shirts, squealing like they know that today is all about them.

We tried for some good pictures of the girls in the morning light, but they weren't feeling very poseable.  No surprise there.  Although they aren't walking by one like Devon was, they're getting more and more mobile all the time.

Melina, especially, has put horizontal progress on hold in favor of vertical.  This past week she's amazed and alarmed us by scaling the rocking chair, the coffee tables, the toy keyboard, and the ottoman.

Devon got to pick out the cake at Publix with Grammy and Grandpa.  We proposed waiting until the evening to dig in.  He respectfully expressed his disagreement.  Apparently you can't tell a two-year-old that we're going to look at the cake and not taste it yet.  Everyone decided that a cupcake after lunch wouldn't hurt!

 Craig texted me a "Happy Birthday Melina and Carrie" right on the dot to commemorate their entrance into the world at 2:11 and 2:12 respectively.  What were we all doing at the time?  The girls were napping and I was cleaning the kitchen like a madwoman in order to get the crumbs and sticky spots up so we could celebrate in a clean house.

Craig asked me at dinner what I was doing at the moment they turned one and I said I was mopping the floor.  "Hmm." he said.  "In a way, that's totally appropriate!"  I had to think for a moment before I figured out what he meant by that, and when I did I was so shocked I almost dropped my fork.  Not only has Craig never talked about my c-section even when I ask him about it, but he also NEVER talks about anything medical while people are eating. 

The fact that he made a joke about it and I could laugh just shows how much people can heal in one short year.  All the scary parts have been wallpapered over in my mind and I can honestly say that all I feel about that day is peace, love, and gratitude that my babies are here and so healthy.

After dinner we gathered around them in their high chairs for some pictures.  Carrie and Melina held court like royalty, looking from one smiling face to another.

"Oh!" said Carrie.  "Party?  Cake?  Pictures?  For me?" She still starts every morning with a gasp of interest and pleasure, looking like she can't believe her good fortune.

"Yes!"  said Melina.  "I love this!  Keep it coming!"  She's still the party girl, starting every day with her trademark wide-mouth smile.

That's right, sweet girls.  Today is all about you.

Craig, Grammy, Grandpa, Devon and I made a semi-circle around them, smiling and cooing, offering one toy after another to make them smile for pictures.

People often say they have the same smile, but they rarely have the same smile in any picture.

 

Devon got to get his beloved step stool and join the fun.  This was a big deal.  For obvious reasons, Mommy doesn't usually let him carry it around the house and stand on it to reach for things, even though he really enjoys it.

"Carrie-and-a-Weena!"  he shouted.  "Carrie-and-a-Weena!"

We're still waiting for the day he can tell them apart.  Every once in a while he comes out with "Carrie!" or "Weena!" and we clap with surprise, thinking he's finally realized that they have individual names just like he does.  Then he points to the other twin with the same name.  He does this for every set of twins he knows, too:  Kaywee-and-a-Wywee, Wobber-and-a-Wyann, Cowee-and-Addison, etc.

Weena got a birthday kiss...

 ...and then it was time for cake.

When we put the cake on the table, all three kids started shrieking and reaching for it, looking like a pack of hyenas reacting to a haunch of venison tossed in their midst.

We sang to the twins, Craig singing "Happy Birthday, Melina and Carrie" and me singing "Happy Birthday, Carrie and Melina" to even things out.  Then we mouthed a count of three and placed a cupcake in front of each child.

Carrie and Melina prodded them skeptically.

Devon dug right in.

 On his first birthday, he took a cautious handful of frosting, wiggled his fingers, and started to cry. He and cake have really patched up their relationship since then.

It was as if he showed his sisters what to do.

They went for the tops first,

Melina sucking rhythmically on her fingers like she was nursing.

Carrie decided that was a good approach.

Then Melina discovered the soft, spongy vanilla cake underneath.

I've never seen this happen at a one-year-old party.

They 

ate

the 

whole

thing!

When we finally took them down from their high chairs, only a small smear of frosting remained on each tray.  Carrie managed to get a lot of cake on herself.

Melina kept her outfit pretty clean but managed to spread cake on her high chair and sprinkle it on the floor. The general consensus was clear: life will never be the same now that Carrie and Melina know that there is cake in the world.  Every meal since then they crane their necks avidly around as if looking for more cake.

It seemed like a good time to give them their baths and clean the kitchen again.  Then, we sat around opening presents.  Carrie and Melina seized the tissue paper and flapped with delight.

By this time it was getting late, dark even on a long Florida summer day.  Did that mean we put the kids to bed and promised to continue tomorrow?  Not a chance!

We began celebrating with those who wanted to be part of the celebration via Skype: Mama and Papa in Nashville, Great Auntie Esther and Auntie Naomi in North Dakota, and Uncle Tim and Auntie Bojana in California.

Everyone sent gifts and cards for each of the girls. One special present was scheduled to arrive in another week, but a noon doorbell announced its arrival, giving Mommy and Grandpa enough time to sneak it in the house and put it together for a surprise unveiling. Their new wagon was an instant hit.  All three enjoyed climbing in and out, in and out.  Then they realized that it wasn't just meant to sit on the living room floor, but to take them outside on their nightly walks.  Even better!

"Just hang in there until they turn one," so many people have told us.  "Everything will get so much easier!"  I suppose there were a few high-fives and shouted "We made it!"'s today, as well as a few nostalgic sighs.  This year they've each quadrupled their body weight, sprouted hair that still refuses to lie flat, and smiled at Mommy and Daddy for the very first time.

Now they're getting so big!  Sometimes during playtime they each decide they want the same toy, gripping it and rolling over and over each other in a struggle like cats.  It makes me wonder how I survived nine months with that going on inside of me, but it was worth it.

Now in the morning I go in to get them and find them standing up in their cribs.  I reach for my girls, calling to them in my delighted Mommy voice:

Carrie!  Melina!  My sweet girls!  My two babies!


For me?