sandbox

I have been so excited about getting the boys a sandbox. They love to play with rice in our old plastic swimming pool, but that kind of play isn't working out so well anymore: in the house, the rice throwing is just too intense for me to deal with, and outside, cleaning up all that grain is just a hassle.

"fwow!" squeals Max as he throws the rice...

Last summer, my parents got one of those turtle sandboxes, so I trolled craigslist until I found one.

july - the boys were 11 months old

Sadly, it turned out to be a flop. It's way too small, and they're just too young to take turns being inside the box - this new toy is just too exciting for that. When they both sit in it, they can barely access the sand.


Plus, Shoghi acted like it was water, and kept diving in - mouth first. I know it's normal, and a little sand in the mouth doesn't freak me out, but gobs of it? Making him choke? It was gross, and disturbing. I know he'll stop doing it after the novelty wears off, but that day it just overwhelmed me.

As quickly as the box got set up, it got fenced off.


I think the only solution is to get another one - you just have to roll with where they are, and I know the sand play will be gret for them. They will also benefit from each having his own play space. Just because they shared my womb doesn't mean they have to share everything!

january, a month of constant vigilence

January has been quite a month! The boys are both now solidly walking, talking up a storm, and signing quite a lot! We endured two rounds of colds, our first case of impetigo, and the emergence of 6 out of our 8 canines (Max still hasn't hatched his bottom two). This has led to extreme sleep disturbances, and an average of 4 hours a night of sleep for me, as I spent my nights shuttling between my unhappy boys. For the first time in a very long time, I actually had to enlist my sister's help during the night on at least two occasions. By the end of the month, it also became clear that it was time to try reducing to one nap a day - we're still in the throes of that transition.

some beautiful weather this month meant a lot of time outside.
shoghi discovers soil for the first time.

the emotional needs of toddlers can be so intense. thank god i'm in the habit of babywearing. i honestly don't know what i would do without my carriers.

This was our third month since our dear Emilia retired from caring for my boys in order to welcome her own sweet baby. To say I've missed her is an extreme under-statement; in short, the household fell into complete disorder, I had to close Bamboo Village Press and completely abandon my other brand new business Good Karma Marketing. If you are one of the many friends or family who has emailed, commented, left voicemail, or sent a message via facebook, you may suspect that I have been ignoring you - in reality, I just haven't had any time. I haven't listened to voicemail for about two weeks, to be honest. I guess I'm a little shut down these days.

This month, I was inspired by several of my mama-of-multiple friends and a visit to All Roads Montessori School to give the boys more opportunities to participate in learning about daily life. Miriam is a mom of triplet girls who sent me a very helpful intro to setting up the house in Montessori-style, following a visit from my friend Jolene who planted the idea that I could use this method at home.

we took these lights down and the boys were both so fascinated, i decided to put them in a basket on the shelf. they carry the basket to the table and i plug them in. we've talked a lot about colors this month, so this activity was a good match.

These inspirations have mostly involved changes in mealtime and cycles of activity. I've deliberately refrained from using the word "help" when we're tidying up or doing other chores - I want them to get a sense that it's just a part of the day, and that they are responsible participants, not helpers. I've capitalized on their obsession with sweeping and vacuuming to make these a part of completing meal times and activities involving messy play (like rice or bean play).

any excuse to sweep
much fighting ensues over whose turn it is with the broom. i hope to get two child-sized brooms this month

Jen described in a recent post how she does meals with her twins. Until that time, I'd been resigning myself to the bowl-hurling, and had convinced myself that they weren't ready for dishes - for the most part, I was putting their food right on the table, which seemed logical after they both graduated from highchairs with trays back in December. Then I started serving them on those plastic plates with little divided sections, and they LOVED it.


At the same time, I realized that this was going to require me to be at the table with them at all times, not preparing each different dinner item as the meal progressed (i.e. as they rejected the last thing). They both really love seeing all their food at once, and generally go for the fruit first, but don't complain when it's done. I did a lot of praising - basically a running commentary of "wow! Max is keeping his plate on the table!" and "Shoghi, I love how you're eating with your spoon!"

All of this work has yielded real fruits: we have very little food throwing, and virtually no plates end up on the floor anymore (wish I could say the same about spoons and forks, but you gotta start somewhere, right?). I do preempt the throwing, though... if I see them gearing up, I say "oh, it looks like you're done. Let's move your plate" or something along those lines. I also tell them that I'm going to help them to remember how to do something, rather than just taking it away.

messy baby/clean baby.
some things never change!

In celebration of this amazing mealtime transformation, and after visiting the Montessori school, I got some small ceramic plates and cups from Goodwill and that's now what we are using at the table. They seem to love their open cups, and like watching me pour their milk (which I give about a tablespoon at a time).

our new place settings

The other major change has been that I basically follow them around now during their active time, and draw their attention back when they're finishing an activity. I tell them that I see they're finished with it, and tell them that we'll put it back on the shelf. I didn't really think they were even hearing me, but last Monday at the doctor's office, I told them we were going to put the toys away before leaving the exam room, and Shoghi actually picked up a toy and put it away! I was so shocked and excited!

In a similar vein, Max has learned to pick up his juice cup or any snacks he has (intentionally) dropped onto the floor from their small table (which I use for snacks) and put them back onthe table. He stands there and applauds for himself, which is totally darling.

This constant attention to what they are doing, and my running narrative of what we are doing and how we are finishing, has definitely contributed to my lack of time to get anything done. By the time the boys are in bed and the kitchen is cleaned up, I have just about done everything I can for the day. I watch an hour or so of TV with my sister and then head off to bed, only to be invariably woken an hour or two later to attend to one of the boys... and so it begins again.

In February, I'm counting on better sleep, unless our 2-year molars decide to show up early (there's been a lot of chewing on fingers this week). I will definitely have to do some kind of modified sleep training for Shoghi, who has reverted back to his persistent, angry wakings of a year ago. Plus, I have got to get rid of his nighttime bottle once and for all... and so the story goes.

we discovered planes this month: "A PLANE!!"

I'm glad to leave the stress of January behind, and look forward to this month which will bring a visit from my parents. Be well, Internet friendlies!

pool in the kitchen

If there's one thing I know about getting through the day, it's that late afternoons before dinner time are of critical planning importance. No matter if the little fellas wake up from afternoon nap at 2:30 or 4, they whine, cling, and cry their way through until dinner is on the table. By this time, I am also tired, and sadly, I rarely have a solid dinner plan. I do a lot of wandering around the kitchen, looking blankly into the cabinets the same way a person like me might look under the hood of a car, dumbly expecting the solution to emerge with neon lights and a happy little tune.

As I enter this new year, I have rededicated myself to planning this time of day ahead of time. I have reserved Sunday nights for menu planning, and unlike many of my friends who only make dinner menus, mine will include all three meals plus snacks. How much easier is my life going to be when I know what needs to be cooked when, which snacks to pack up or set on their little table, and what meals are on the way? It is a relief just thinking of it.

Last week, the whining was really wearing me down. Typical meal-prep video distraction was not working. I was too tired to try to make dinner with one 30-pounder on my back and another 20-pounder in my arms.

making dinner is challenging with only one hand.

I ran out in the rain and grabbed the summertime wading pool, flicking off those ugly Portland slugs as I jogged towards the door. I carried it in over the pulling hands and whiny cries and dumped it on the floor, then put two small bins filled with warm, soapy water into the pool right in the kitchen and let the boys go at it.


We turned up the heat, stripped off their clothes and dropped in some toys, and I bought myself 20 minutes to get dinner ready. Granted, it resulted in a wet floor and extra cleanup for me, but this is definitely a trick to remember for hard days that I will no doubt be using again.

dead mall

People often say to me "I don't know how you do it." I'm sure most of the time, it's meant as a kind of compliment, or as a form of support. Sometimes it touches a nerve, though, as if I am up against some kind of impossible task -- this version of hearing is more of a reflection of my own self-frustration at not doing better at coordinating our daily life. It shouldn't seem so daunting to take care of two kids. I shouldn't be so lazy, tired, or whatever other self-defeating word comes to mind.

The fact is, just like most of the parents I know, I'm making it up as I go. I have a lot of good moments, though sometimes the bad moments seem much louder. I have routines that have worked for several months, and new possible additions several times a week. Toddlers have their own timelines for development, and what might work for one of my twins might not work for the other.

Although it's been a mild winter here in Portland, it's been nearly impossible for me to bring the boys outside to play more than twice in the past 3 or 4 weeks. They still resort to crawling when they're in a new environment, and all the rain has just made it too wet and cold for them to get that wet. Besides, they both have colds.

We all get a little stir crazy at home, but with all the school kids on vacation, I haven't felt comfortable taking them to the science museum's discovery room or the play area at the big mall. Being by myself, I just spend all my time corralling the boys, and that's really no fun for any of us.

Last week in a moment of desperation, I loaded us up and went to our closest mall where our Target is located. We almost never venture outside Target, the mall is just a vast, dark, one-story ghost land. When you google this particular defunct shopping center, deadmalls.com is one of the first entries.

Imagine my happiness, then, to realize that this is the perfect location for the boys to blow off some steam. We park the stroller at the tiny play area, but I let the boys run around. When other people are around, they don't seem to mind the squeals and squeaky shoes - they ask questions about twins and tolerate the boys with a smile.

Here's Shoghi at the entrance of the weird Asian-style portrait studio shopfront. His newest word is "flower."




At this mall, I can let the boys run around in the halls in opposite directions. It's great to be able to let them have such a wide berth.

Max, so confident on his legs now, walks towards the door to Home Depot.