The Count

Number of times I've been asked if they're twins: 11

Latest Inquiries:

"They're twins, aren't they?"

"They're not twins, are they?"

Palmyra

I took the bike mobile to Palmyra because it was PTB's turn to participate in the Branch Temple Trip and my turn to find something to do for two hours on the outside with two little boys. I thought the bike mobile would help. And it did.

We rode down the street so we could eat yogurt and crackers with cheese on a picnic table overlooking the Sacred Grove.

Then we continued down the street to take a bike mobile tour of the Log Cabin and the Frame Home, once inhabited by Joseph Smith. It was a sacredly quiet, sunny morning. I hope my boys could feel that reverence and awe of being in a very special place. I know I could.

The Frame Home

After our tour, we rode into Palmyra, in the hopes of finding ducks on the Erie Canal or a treat from the chocolate store on Main Street. Instead, we were met by a sign reading "Road Closed" and then another and then another. Hmmm, I thought, Maybe Palmyra is closed today? Fortunately, I persevered and eventually met a cop who kindly informed me that Palmyra was not only open, but having a festival all day long with a parade in the afternoon. Therefore, the roads were closed to all vehicles. Except bike mobiles carrying cute children. Just my luck! I hurried up a side street to Palmyra and came out right in the middle of a car show on Main Street. Old cars, fancy cars, new cars, and impractical cars lined both sides of Main Street for as far as the eye could see.

1929 Ford (my favorite)

After admiring some old cars and a few flashy cars, we continued to The Canal. One of my favorite things about the Erie Canal is the path that follows along the side. It's for walkers and runners and people pushing strollers and horses and dogs. But NO vehicles. Except for bike mobiles containing cute children. PTB and I had brought our bikes up to ride along the Erie Canal for my birthday and I had been looking forward to riding there with my boys ever since. This was the day. We loved it. And we did see lots of ducks.

We arrived at Lock 29. Locks fascinate me. Especially to see it operating. Or to be lifted by one in a boat. But there were no boats to watch that day. Instead, I allowed my boys to play on the nub allegedly used to secure boats. Sufficient Entertainment. It's amazing, the things that amuse little boys, huh?

Lock 29

Then it was time to head back. We rounded the pinnacle of the Temple's mountain (it seems like a mountain on the bike mobile) just before PTB came out. There was a transcendent glow about him and I was glowing red from exhaustion. A perfect ending.

Around the Burg

The Pocket Park

This is one of our favorite destinations on the bike mobile. Now you may be wondering what in the world a pocket park is. Don't be discouraged, dear reader, I'm about to tell you all about it. Perhaps after learning about this little gem, you'll make your way over to the Burg to try it out yourself. Our opinion is this: the pocket park is well worth any amount of travel or expense. We simply love this place.

Why we love it:

imagination.

pretend play.

relaxation.

friend making.

fine dining.

sunshine (about three times a year).

shade.

foliage.

running water.

Don't you love it already? Are you still wondering what a pocket park is?

Okay, okay. It's this little "pocket" tucked in the heart of Trumansburg where kids can find three mini buildings: a firehouse, a library, and a log cabin. These fine structures surround a mini courtyard containing a unique dining arrangement and various trees, perennials, and tiny patch of grass. All of this nestled right next to the village creek. It's right on Main Street, but has a stone half-wall built around it, to keep the noise of the almost-busy village out and your adventurous children in.

The main attraction, of course, is the mini structures. Each is a work of art. They are all built using impeccable design and very fine workmanship --roof lines, windows, ladders, closets, and lofts, to name a few. The firehouse has a loft and fire pole inside and a hose on the outside. The library is full of books --real ones and lots of them. The log cabin boasts a front porch and homemade (wooden)appliances in the kitchen.

Have I mentioned that we enjoy this place? Not everywhere can you experience the nearly life-like thrill of fighting library fires. Nor are there many places in this world for your children to relax with a banjo on a homey front porch just like they do in Tennessee (supposedly). Is it any wonder we've spent a good chunk of the season in this near-paradise? Should I tell you the number of emergency diaper changes I've carried out behind these buildings?

Goodbye Summer

Though New York seems to think Summer means 70 and raining --every day for four months straight, we're still going to miss it, because Fall and Winter promise to be a lot colder than 70. So, to take advantage of what could be the last of "swimming weather" (if you like to swim when it's 70 and raining.... I can't say I do) I let the boys don their suits, dig in the sand, and dip their toes in the pond today. Having performed our ritual Last Swim and followed that up with the typical Bathing Suit Biking, I'm packing away the swimming gear until July 2010 when we can expect temperatures to once again soar to 70 degrees.

Surprise

Dear PTB,

I know you loved the carpet on top of his head.

But I had to look at it all day, every day. And it was starting to look like well, a carpet.

I think you'll get used to this.

But if not, carpets do tend to grow rather speedily around these parts.

Love Always, The Big L

5 Minutes

When you're the mom of two (boys), adventures abound. I know. Sometimes, the wildest adventures of my life happen in a matter of minutes. Today it was 5.

Nolan is getting the hang of using the potty. I'm happy to report that we've confidently moved to underwear on a daily basis. He's also happy to report this... to everyone he meets. After doing his business, he frequently stands up, claps his hands together and says one of three things:

1. I'm so proud!

2. I'm ready for school!

3. I'm putting on my underwear!

With his newfound sense of pride, things are moving quickly in potty training.

Today they moved this quickly:

We're painting at the kitchen table when Nolan suddenly drops his paintbrush and darts out of the room. Gerret and I make it into the bathroom in time to find Nolan standing between his full potty and a puddle on the floor. "I need new pants, Momma." No kidding. His underwear and pants are wadded up behind the potty and upon investigation, I find strange patterns of wetness throughout. I shake my head in wonder. "Well, that was the right idea. Nice try." We clean the puddle off the floor and go pick out new clothes, leaving Gerret in the doorway of the bathroom. This is where the intense music picks up. After Nolan is clothed, I return to empty the bucket of the 75% that actually made it into the potty. But the potty's bucket is MIA. And so is Gerret. I call out to the Pook as I make my frantic way to the kitchen. "Huh." Gerret grunts from the bottom of the staircase. Situated precariously on the step above him is the bucket. I snatch it up, only to find that the deed has already been done. EMPTY BUCKET. That's when I notice the 75% ...shining in pools across the kitchen floor and soaked into the carpet of the lower steps. I'm standing in the middle of it all.

Our Canine Guests

The first time they escaped the confines of their backyard to vacation on our beach, I actually felt a bit tickled that they would grace us with their puppy presence. My boys love dogs. Nolan was so happy to see dogs in the backyard that he abandoned the red wagon and started running toward them before I could give him adequate warning. Immediately, our visitors were all over Nolan, playing with my son like he was just another object to battle over. I grabbed him out from under those playful pups. He was covered in slobber and had scratches on his neck and face. One scratch landed directly under his right eye. Needless to say, he was pretty upset. I had to curb my own emotions as I explained that they weren't trying to hurt him. Puppies like to play. Later, at lunchtime, he was rehearsing to me the events of the morning and upon describing his horrific experience with the puppies, said very earnestly, "Momma, I am NOT a toy."

After that, I just hoped our neighbors would be more responsible with their new pets, but the very next morning, traces of puppy could be detected on our front stoop and the following day, my cute little flower bed had exchanged impatiens for paw prints. I knew we had a problem. My drooping, broken plants were a constant reminder. I fought against a pang of anger every time I passed by the muddled stems of my flower bed.

My irritation festered for a few days until I just knew I had to let it go. As any sort of ill feeling, it was getting me nowhere. On the very day I decided to think kindly, the dogs reappeared. This time Olivia was outside with me, so she quickly ushered my anxious boys inside. I grabbed for the collars and made those puppies sit down. After holding them in their places for a short while, they calmed down and just looked at me sadly. Their eyes seemed so innocent and sincere. My heart softened. All I could do was say, "It's okay, you pups."

All was well. Olivia came back out to pet them and play with them. She genuinely enjoyed their company. They ran together and rolled in the grass. She threw them sticks and spoke of taking them to the pond. Then their master started calling through the hedge.

My mom accompanied them home and politely interrogated the neighbor. "How old are they?" "Where did you get them?" "What was their cost?" "Were there any more?" "Are you sure you want two?" Adding, for good measure, "I'll bet they would enjoy having kids to play with and a pond to swim in."

And I haven't seen them since.

Around the Burg

Every Wednesday evening (4-7pm), June thru October

Located at the "Village Park" (you know, that patch of grass on the corner of Main St. and 227)

Like everything in T-burg, the Farmers' Market is not too huge, but brimming full of goodness. An opportunity to meet local growers, buy fresh food, listen to live (and local) music, browse handmade goods, grab something for dinner, and mingle with your neighbors. Also, a chance for your children to roll down a grassy knoll. Really, the Farmers' Market is an all around good time.

Each vendor is required to sell items that he has grown, produced, or crafted himself. It's amazing to walk by each booth and admire the work and the worker all at once. These are not indolent people. With the fruits of their labors displayed proudly before them, the admirer can plainly see that these fruits are the product of much toil. And are they ever worth it! It is all sooooo much better than anything in the grocery store. The melons are the most juicy, sweet things on the planet. There is an amazing assortment of vegetables and fruits. Some vendors deal in dairy, while others have homegrown meats. You can even find plenty of honey, jams, breads, and pure maple syrup.

The market smells good, has a great beat, looks welcoming. What's not to love?

If I were a Rich Girl

I would buy up every single one of their dresses and wear one each day for the rest of my life.

Just saying.

Artwork that Inspires

I once read about a woman who hung pictures around her house to represent characteristics she hoped her children would consider (and implement). For example, she displayed a picture of pioneers traveling in a snowstorm to represent perseverance in times of trial. She also had individual photographs of all 29 of her grandchildren lined up across the mantle, intending to send the message that they were a very important part of her family. I tucked this idea away for later use, telling myself that right now, I just don't have wall space or money for nice artwork depicting honorable characteristics.

A few months later, I came across an old box of pictures rotting in the depths of my mom's storage closet. I rescued the box and slowly started going through the mildew. The musty box turned out to be full of photos of my ancestors. For the first time, I saw people whose names I had heard and read throughout my life. I had honored and felt connected to these people for so long. Some of them I had met as a child and many others I had heard stories about from my grandma. And suddenly, I was looking right at them, visiting the places they lived, meeting their families and even sometimes their horses. Since then, I've made it my responsibility to preserve these priceless photos. I've been putting them in archival quality sheet protectors in a binder and plan on digitizing them. So, they've gone from a moldy box in a dark room to a book on a shelf. That feels more comfortable to me.

Except for that picture up there. I was nearing the bottom of the box when I happened upon a sturdy gray envelope containing a picture of Gram and Pop, my great-grandparents. I was about to slide it into a sheet protector when I discovered a slit on the back of the envelope. It was made to be turned into a funny little card-stock picture frame! I tried it out and thought it was kind of cute. I even placed it on a dresser in my room and left it there overnight.

A few days later, Nolan was playing near that dresser and noticed the little picture frame. He brought it to me and pointed to Gram and Pop, asking who they were. I told him they were his grandma's grandparents and rehearsed some things I knew about them. He was genuinely interested and I was genuinely proud to tell him that these people were his people.

I don't have great artwork to teach my children lessons (yet), but opportunities to teach principles of happiness come anyway. Especially with my great-grandparents reminding us who we are, where we've come from, and what great things are expected.

Blackberries and a Frog

We were picking blackberries today, my boys, my pink sister, and I. As I reached into the depths of the bush (where black treasures were plentiful), something cold hit the back of my hand. Assuming it was a leaf or a bug flying by, I didn't even look; just went on picking, but as I carried out a handful of berries, I noticed the intruder was still stuck to my hand. A tree frog! An orange one at that. Every tree frog I've ever happened upon in my 25 years on earth has been bright green. Still awesome and small and sticky, but green, not orange like this little friend. He was so cool and he was totally comfortable hanging out on my hand as I walked to the house to grab my camera. He was even happy to stick to Gerret's hand and climb his arm, which elicited smiles and giggles. Nolan refrained from getting too close, claiming that he didn't want to get peed on. Who can blame him? I got peed on twice.

The Potty

This morning, Gerret made his typical "poo poo" announcement before doing the job, but instead of staying where he was, which would also be typical, he made a bee-line for this:

And surprised me by actually sitting down on it. Then he did the job and stood, repeating his "poo poo" announcement as he breezed on by me. Just in case I didn't get it.

Going in the diaper while on the potty is the step before going in the potty without the diaper. Isn't it? Should I be excited that he's beginning to express more interest in the potty than his older brother? Or nervous? I think training one kid at a time is more than I can handle.

Around the Burg

Introducing: Life's So Sweet Chocolates

Trumansburg is not very big, yet somehow big enough to boast its own candy shop. And this isn't a shop that sells the overpriced chocolates of a faraway factory. No sir. Life's So Sweet Chocolates specializes in "classic and unique handmade chocolates". You heard me: handmade. They sell their very own, made-in-the-back, truffles, fudge, chocolate mint frogs, and dipped passion fruit. That list is not exhaustive. They always seem to have something new and mouth watering. Of the chocolate variety, of course. On my most recent visit, I tried their lavender white chocolate. It actually tasted a bit like the smell of lavender! Quite the experience. Another adventure I once had in this quaint shop was a sample of their aztec truffle -a snappy little chocolate featuring hot peppers. Don't worry, it isn't all "unique". This sweet shop offers something for everyone. Normal kinds of chocolate, cute shapes, organic made kinds, frozen treats, fancy jelly beans, wild adventurous chocolates and gummy candies. They also have a lollipop tree which is a main attraction for Gerret. All this contained in a tiny (but beautiful) store on T-burg's main drag. One of our favorite destinations on the bike mobile.

What to Expect When You Unexpectedly Find Yourself Expecting

Disbelief.

For quite a while.

Then disbelief mixed with denial which gives way to the kind of acceptance that makes you laugh often and spontaneously. You empathize a little bit with the parents of "miracle babies", but more often with pregnant teenagers. You feel relieved to at least have the total support of one loyal fan. You feel nearly ashamed to admit your circumstance to anyone. You experience some anger, some amazement, some sadness, and sometimes recognize God's hand in it. Mostly, you just keep going, because that's all you can do anyway.

And then one day it's all over.

Or all begun.

You've got to keep him alive and try to make him thrive. You admit that he's cute, but in the same breath admit that he's difficult. It's difficult. And you spend some months just feeling like that. Difficult. And maybe you consider yourself a little inadequate, overwhelmed, and defeated. You might cry some. Or a lot.

Things get better. Sleep comes slowly. He learns to only scream sometimes, not all the time. He grows; becomes less dependent. His brother adores him. Thankfully. And he keeps getting cuter.

And then one day you are caught off guard all over again. Suddenly, it feels like you were expecting him from the very beginning. You sit and watch him from time to time, purely amazed that he almost wasn't and count your blessings that he is. Because he fills in cracks and crevices in your life that you never would have known were there. He makes you want to be better and do more. You remember all the feelings and experiences of the journey, but you feel a new reverence for where you are and mostly for him. Like he was meant to be. Truly a miracle. That's when the gratitude overflows and you feel compelled to write about it.

First Day Back

I told PTB last night that I was done blogging for this month. I've been busy in the garden and I just haven't felt like typing anything.

But here I am a day later. Maybe it just took me saying, "enough" to come back to it. Not that I have anything more to say than: School is in Session!!. The boys missed their aunts, but were delighted to see a school bus again. Especially one that returned two cute little aunts at the end of the day. And from the looks on those girls' faces and the way they sprinted off the bus, perhaps The Aunts felt a little lonely at school without two brown eyed puppy dogs following them around. It was a happy reunion. It's nice to be back in the swing of something. We can always use a bit more of a routine.

Willy the Cat

All furry and mostly patient
We adore you
When we have stickers
We adorn you