Passive Aggressive T-shirt Retaliation

The twins will be here in less than two and a half weeks and I don’t know that I’ll ever fully be ready.  However, ready or not, I have no choice and my life will take on a certain new type of craziness for an indefinite amount of time.  I’m trying my best to gear myself up for the craziness that is bound to ensue shortly, but I know I’ll never really be ready.

Being pregnant with twins, I’ve noticed that people, strangers and friends alike, take more liberties in what they feel is permissible to say to my large and bulbous condition.  The other day I was on my way to the hospital for a non-stress test.  Being ‘high risk’ because of the twins, the hospital has recently become my second home.  I was waiting for the elevator to go to the maternity floor for my testing and as a family approached, I heard the elderly mom lean to her adult daughter and exclaim, “Oh. W.O.W.” As if my big belly somehow also impedes my ability to hear.

I don’t take things too personally, but I do find it amazing that people think that because you’re pregnant they can ask all sorts of nosey questions and drop comments regarding your ever-growing size.  And when they find out that you’re pregnant with TWINS, they suddenly are magically granted license for an additional barrage of more nosey comments and inquiries.  “Wow!  You’re huge!”  “Do twins run in your family?”  “Were you taking fertility drugs?”  “Can I rub your belly?”  “You’re about to pop!”  So, as a way to make me feel better about life,  I had a little shirt made up to answer any questions before they’re asked in these final days of pregnancy.

Maybe I should just make it my uniform during the remainder of my pregnancy.  You know, cover all my bases so I can avoid having to answer the same questions one more time.  And if you’ve asked or commented on one of the items addressed on my t-shirt, truly, no worries.  Just something fun for me to create because, heaven knows, the comments won’t stop after they come, either.  Maybe then, I’ll just need to order another t-shirt.

Mom, Were They Sad?

On a recent trip to Ohio, we stopped at Walmart to purchase a few groceries before making our final stop at my in-laws.  Being pregnant and feeling 60 weeks pregnant, a stop to the bathroom was in order.  While I took care of business, Michael and the kids waited outside.

Right in front of the restrooms were the “Have You Seen Me” posters with missing children’s faces.  While I was busy, my boys had many questions to ask Michael about why the pictures were displayed.  Michael did his best to answer their questions.

I returned from the restroom and we started on our way to shop for groceries.  Not far from the restroom, Thatcher turned back to me and asked, “Mom, were they sad?”

Confused, I probed for more details.  ”Thatcher, was who sad?”

“The parents of the children on the missing children board. Were they sad when their children got lost in Walmart?”

Needless to stay, he didn’t wander too far from the cart.

My New Method of Naming Children

My eyes are currently crossed as I go through the baby name book. Once you look at the same letter for thousands of names, the actual letter starts to look funny. So, I’ve changed my approach to naming these children.  I have decided to let them name themselves.  As I read the names in the baby book, if one of them kicks, I’m writing it down.

So far, I’ve got…
Barend (Junior High Version Bare End)
Einar (Junior High Version Einer Weiner)
Faddis (means deals in beans)
For (Though, For and Five may stand a chance, I doubt anyone would take them serious if their names were For and Five.)

So, maybe I’m not truly using the baby kick method, however, these are all legitimate names I’ve come across in the book I purchased today. It’s most definitely easier to come up with the names which I WON’T be naming my children than with the ones that I WILL. And my apologies to any parents reading this who have named their child(ren) one of these names–to each his own.

I’ll keep you posted what I (or they) actually decide.  Now, back to the M’s–until they start to look funny. And, if you’re interested in my naming rules, it’s pretty much the same as before and can be found here.

Excuse Me. How Many?

Twenty three days ago, my life changed.

Michael and I both love being parents.  We adore the stage of life where we are currently.  If Michael would have his way, we’d have 12 kids.  BUT I’ve about hit my crazy limit.  Well actually, it’s a well known fact that I’ve been crazy for years, but kids just up the ante when it comes to my crazy levels.  So, we discussed our stopping number.  My number was 4.  Michael wanted 5.

In August, we found out we were expecting again.  I was quick to assure Michael that this was it.  No more pregnancies.  Last kid.  I’d reached my limit.  And somewhere in the pleasant debate of a conversation, he mentioned that he’d pray for twins.

So, twenty three days ago, I went in for my ultrasound and awkwardly waddled onto the ultrasound table with my pregnant belly, dreading having to sit on the strip of crinkly tissue paper that I stick to EVERY TIME.  I laid down on the table and the ultrasound tech squirted my belly with the warm oozy goop.  Impatiently, I waited for those magical words that every mother longs to hear.  ”It’s a GIRL!”  or “It’s a BOY!”

Instead, I heard the new definition of  ’Crazy‘–”You have twins!”  Surprise!



My tears started simultaneously with Michael’s laughter and we continued on that way for what seemed like forever.  In the midst of the shock, I think I uttered something to the ultrasound tech along the lines of, “Are you kidding?”  But, the pictures on the screen validated the truth behind her words.


“Michael, Did you pray for this?  Did you?”  I stammered.  He assured me that he wasn’t seriously praying for twins, though I’m still questioning that one.  And here we find ourselves 23 days later.  Honestly, I’m still trying to grasp the supposed simple truth that in just a few short months, our family will grow by 2 little boys and our lives will be changed, once again, for the better.

My friend said it best– “God has a way of undoing our ‘no-nevers’.”  It’s true.  Though the thought of twins is undoubtedly overwhelming, I know that many others have blazed the twin-raising trail and have lived to tell about it.  I take comfort in the fact that God knew each of my children’s names before one of them came to be.  And I can surely rest in the knowledge that He planned BOTH of these two boys to be part of our family long ago.

Bring on the crazies.

Lessons from a $6 Chocolate Advent Calendar

Pinterest tries to beckon me with thoughts that my mothering is inadequate.  I bombard myself with thoughts that my decorations aren’t Christmas-y enough or that my activities aren’t pin-worthy enough.  I look at every dinner I make and doubt that anyone would ever care to read a blog post about what’s been created.  And those bloggy Christmas home tours?  They only leave me wishing that had the energy, finances, and time to create similar decor masterpieces.

But, I’ve been thinking about such things and my thoughts have been morphing.  I realize that though these things aren’t inherently wrong, I’ve got 3 little beings that don’t care about all the fancy frazzle that comes with the Holiday Pinterest hubbub and fancy Christmas decorations.  My kids just want me.

This year, I bought a $6 chocolate advent from  At first, I successfully guilted myself into thinking that if I were a good mother, I’d have crafted some fancy advent that was far more special than just clicking the ‘One-Click Button’ on Amazon.  Because you know what? It’s all I had the energy to do.  And do you know what?  It’s sufficient.


That plain $6 chocolate advent has taught me something this Christmas season.  It isn’t about me trying to win ‘AMAZING’ status with my kids over super crafty Christmas projects or doing activities that millions of people will want to ‘pin’.  My kids really don’t care.

Simple as it may be, the chocolate advent is something that they have anticipated every night.  It’s probably because it involves chocolate, but I have a suspicion they may even like it more than any fancy-dancy advent calendar that I took my time to craft.  And you know what?  I’m okay with that.  I’m okay with the fact that my $6 purchase was the very best I could do.

Come to my house, and you’ll see quickly that my tree won’t win a spot in any Better Homes & Gardens competition.  And our ole’ Elf on the Shelf’ may just stay in the same spot for days (I just chalk it up that he was extra tired from his nightly activities and couldn’t move to another place in the house).  Instead of focusing on my short falls and Pinterest fails, I’m trying to focus on what my child hears when he asks me for the thousandth time this week, “Mom, will you play Richard Scarry Memory with me?”  Instead of hearing, “Just a minute…,” I want my kid to know that I chose this holiday season to sit down and spend time with him instead of being too busy wrapped up in the hustle of a meaningless Christmas.

I hope that my life, instead of pointing my children to empty busyness, will direct them to sit quietly at the throne of the very Reason who came to earth.  For me.  For them. For All.  Because He is what Christmas is all about.  And I hope that my chosen priorities will cause my children to reflect on what and who’s important, not what Pinterest tells me is so.


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