So How Was Your Day?

Just a quickie: I just love how Milo is starting to tell me stuff about his day now. It's like he's a real person and everything, and we can actually have a conversation about something that happened to him. It's amazing. Last night at dinner:

Me: So, Milo, what'd you do today?
Milo: (Pause) I made snow angels!
Me: Wow...really? Wow, you made snow angels? That's new.
Milo: I layed down in the snow!
Me: Did Nora make snow angels too?
Milo: Yup.
Nora: I don't like the snow. (Nora did not in fact make snow angels, as it turns out)
Me: So what else did you do today?
Milo: I have a little bump on the head! I got the staples taken out!

Okay, those things happened days ago, but still...

Weekend

Christmas lights on the house: Check.
Basement cleaned up: Check.
8 bazillion loads of laundry done, folded, and put away: Check.
Sheets changed and beds made: Check.
Shopping: Check.
Grocery Shopping: Check.
Snow suits procured: Check.
Child-friendly butternut squash soup made: Check.
Children completely rejecting soup: Check.
Taking kids out to play in the oh so fun snow! Check.
Nora refusing to touch the snow: Check.

I got almost everything done, other than hang the wreath, because I can't find it, because it is not hanging in the storage location where it belongs, which means somebody put it away last year and it wasn't me, which means it is who knows where, but other than that, everything got done. Almost. What am I forgetting? Oh, rest. I forgot rest. But there will be time enough for that when the kids go off to college.

Traditions

This week we went to a Tudor Dinner, which is an annual tradition at my university with a 76-year history. It is sponsored by the philharmonic chorus and is quite elaborate, involving bowls of wassail, the presentation of a (fake) boar's head, lots of caroling, a full dinner, and flaming figgy pudding at the end.

The dinner is held in the great hall of our student union (which is nicer than it sounds -- the union is on a lake, and the great halls are quite elaborate and fancy). After appetizers and wassail, the choir sings some songs and then we all sing carols together before dinner. After dinner we also have group carols, and this is absolutely awesome. It sounds cheesy, but actually the sound of 350 people singing "Silent Night" together in a giant hall is a beautiful thing.

On the night of the dinner it snowed for the first time, which really added to the festive atmosphere. It was so pretty to see the snow falling on the lake while singing carols in the great hall against the backdrop of a crackling fire.

(Figgy pudding, as it turn out though, is not my favorite!)

On the 23rd there is a community Christmas Carol singalong at our local performance hall with the great organ. Everybody comes together to sing and the event is something that kids enjoy. It starts at 7, which is Nora & Milo's bedtime, but once they get a little older I think it would be a great Christmas tradition.

In addition, our neighborhood starts up a caroling group every year, and they go around caroling right before Christmas. I haven't had enough free time to join this group yet, but I enjoy hearing them when they go around the neighborhood.

I want to build traditions for M&N that go beyond presents and include special things we get to do at Christmas, like baking special things, putting up lights, and singing certain songs. Song strikes me as a great way to celebrate the season.

A Toast

Once upon a time when I was a beginning graduate student, my advisor and I wrote a paper together. We submitted the paper and then eventually got the reviews back. One of the reviews was a really nasty review. I particularly remember the phrase "this paper reads like it was poorly translated from German." The review was unhelpful and mean, and as a green researcher, it stung. I didn't realize reviews could be like that.

The second review was not memorable, but then I read the third. It was long, several pages, and it was critical, but extremely helpful. The critique was fair and appropriate, and the reviewer outlined a number of specific changes we could make to fix the paper. He also signed his review (reviews are almost always anonymous), so we knew who he was. This reviewer (I'll call him J) really put a great deal of time into thinking about our paper, and ultimately we made the changes he suggested which turned it into a much better paper.

I remember thinking about the contrast between the three reviews and deciding right then and there that I wanted to follow J's model of reviewing. J was a very prominent figure in our field, but he was so generous with his time and ideas, and that generosity ended up being extremely helpful to us. I decided that I wanted to be a scholar like J.

Later he came to our university to give a talk, which I found really interesting, and then we took him out to dinner and stayed out late drinking wine and talking about ideas. One of my fondest memories of J is from a conference in Hawaii. On the last day of the conference we had a luau, and I remember him sashaying across the dance floor, a lei on his head, another around his neck, and a drink in each hand. "Amy," he said, "it's nice to see you let your hair down, both figuratively and literally!"

Three years ago in May J retired, and then that July he was out for his daily run, and he was hit by a truck and killed.

This week I was part of an advisory panel meeting for somebody's grant, and most of the members of the panel knew J well -- they had known him for decades. The last time J visited our town, he gave a very nice bottle of wine to one of our panel members, T. T kept the bottle of wine, waiting for an appropriate time to open it and drink it. This week, when all of us were gathered together, he brought the bottle to our meeting and at the end of the day, he opened it so that he could share it with the people who had known and worked with J. We raised a toast to J and then drank the excellent wine, sharing our favorite stories of him and fondly remembering all that he had done. He was an extraordinary person. It was a great way to end the day.

Milestone

Nora's budding art talents continue, and today she created her first actual picture. I sat there watching her as she drew a circle and then said "and here are the eyes, and the mouth, and the hair," drawing each in turn. First ever picture!

Now I was going to upload my adobe acrobat version in which I label these things so you can tell where they are, but the file got huge and blogger freaked out, so I will have to describe it instead. The face is tilted 45 degrees to the left. The eyes are the two dots at the top flat part of the face, and the mouth is the sole dot (or scrawl, I guess) below. The hair is that clump on the right hand side of the face, extending out quite a bit.

In the second picture Nora drew a "B" and said "B for Milo", and I was all, huh? The Twin Whisperer said "Oh that's because I always say 'B for brother Milo'." Okay. I have pointed out the "B" in this picture by adding a red arrow and a circle around it.

Now Nora is super into trying to make letters. She tries, but can't really, so she'll create some sort of scrawl and then hope that it's made a letter. If so, she'll say what she thinks it is, and if not, she'll ask "What letter did Nora make?"

Milo is not currently interested in drawing or writing. He is more into books right now. All he ever wants to do is have us read books to him. Milo's other current interest is to take empty boxes and put them over his head and then wander around the house laughing. This sort of thing is why Milo always has a bruise or a cut somewhere. The kid is so active, always on the go.

Milo and Nora seem to have created nicknames for each other. Milo is perfectly capable of saying "Nora" but half the time he prefers to call her "Noon-ah". Nora likes to call Milo "Milot". Sometimes she likes to call herself "Norup".

Conversations

I love it that the kids are actually starting to have little conversations with each other now. This morning I heard over the monitor:

Nora: Where'd Daddy go, Milo?

Milo: (Unintelligible -- I think he was just waking up)

Nora: Where'd Mama go, Milo?

Milo: She went to work!

Nora: She went downstairs! Mommy's downstairs!

Then tonight at dinner:

Nora: I don't like that moth on the ceiling.

Milo: It won't hurt you.

Calgon Take Me Away!

I'm dying here. Several projects have reached the critical stage: book chapter (due, in fact overdue, but fortunately more or less done), research talk (have to write), brand new grant that I'm doing with two colleagues (due Dec. 17 and we haven't started and I will have no time to work on it before Dec. 7), letter of recommendation (due Tuesday), class prep and grading (due Tuesday).

I was holding it all together (barely, sort of) until a brand new time-sensitive task landed on my desk and needs to be done this week as well. It's a big task, and super important (I'd rank it as more important than anything else I've got going on), but I didn't find out about it until Wednesday. Getting the task was a VERY happy surprise but that task has thrown everything else off.

Oh, that and the fact that our dining room table broke on Saturday night in the middle of eating dinner. I mean the leg literally broke right off, and our entire meal slid off the table, wine glasses full of wine and all, everything crashing onto the floor in a giant mess of food, wine, and broken glass. So now we have to buy a new table and that is not something I have time to shop for, but needs to be done quickly because we can't live without a table, but I don't want to just get any old thing because a table is a big deal and I want one we can be happy with long term, and and and!!!

And I think M&N are either getting sick, or are teething, but they've both been insanely crabby today and I just about lost it with them about 100 times. I am so tired of hearing whining and crying. Honestly, sometimes toddlers suck.

Such is my venting session, now I'm going to bed for a while. Everything is going to be somewhat better by the end of the week. And come Dec. 17 (or whenever my grading is done, probably after that), I am totally going to take some days off. Like several days, in a row, completely off. I'm going to do something just for myself, like shopping or something, something I haven't done in ages. I don't know what, but it's going to be great.

Babies

The first 45 seconds of this trailer? That is so Nora and Milo. Can't wait for this movie to come out:

The Dream Versus The Reality

One of the reasons I looked forward to having kids was how we would create holiday traditions together, and the holidays would take on a new meaning. Thanksgiving and Christmas have not been that big of a deal for me in adult life. There were times when they were pretty painful, but mostly they were okay but just...non-events. If I wanted to see family, I had to travel. If I wasn't up to traveling, then I'd have to spend the holiday alone, which I did sometimes, and it was fine. I remember my first Christmas here I spent the day by myself touching up the paint in one of the upstairs bedrooms and eating Lucky Charms. It didn't bother me, but it's also not exactly your typical Norman Rockwell portrait.

I imagined that once we had kids, then we would have an excuse to stay home and create our own traditions, make our own big dinner, have our own exciting Christmas, and so forth. Having 4 people in the house instead of 1 or 2 makes it seem like a holiday is an "event" in the way that it's not when I'm sitting in my pajamas watching old episodes of Sex and the City on Netflix. I've been saying all month how excited I am about Christmas, how we're going to get a tree, and decorate everything, and the kids will know enough to be excited about stuff being different and novel (but still too young to understand about Christmas), and we'll make the same cookies my mom made each year, and it'll be great great great!

I felt the same way about Thanksgiving. We begged out of going to anybody else's house and instead planned our own nice meal, because I couldn't think of anything more awesome and cozy, just hanging out with the kids and Jake, cooking all day, listening to music, and enjoying being together. Jake is so fun and relaxing to be around that hanging out at home with him is automatically sort of festive. So that was my image of our Thanksgiving holiday.

In reality, just as I was heading out the door for a run, Milo tried to climb the back of our barstool and fell backwards, the stool crashing on top of him, gashing the back of his head open on the claw foot of our dining room table. So instead of spending the morning running in the cool 40 degree weather, I spent it in the overheated emergency room with one freaked out little boy. Who, to his credit, did amazingly well as the minutes stretched into hours and we skipped both his snack time and his lunch time. Despite that, Milo handled everything just beautifully, charming all of the nurses and doctors, even charming the guy cleaning the hallway floor, who chased after us to let me know how cute Milo was. He had a CT scan and two staples to the back of his head, and was declared good to go. It was a very rough day for him.

Then in the afternoon as I attempted to cook a giant dinner while two toddlers got increasingly cranky and clingy, I thought, why did I think I could do this? Why didn't we just go over to our friends' house, where M & N could play with their buddy Rueben, and I could have brought a few side dishes and called it a day? Instead I wanted to do this sweet family thing, but I forgot that anything with 2-year olds is not really sweet, it's hectic and annoying mostly, especially when they're fighting over the same toy and both decide to start screaming at once just as my gravy starts to boil.

And here I've been saying how much I'm looking forward to a family Christmas, but now I realize, it probably won't match my storybook image, at least not for another year or two until they exit the frenetic toddler stage.

At dinner Milo gamely tried the turkey, the green beans, the rolls, the squash, and the cranberry sauce. He wouldn't touch the mashed potatoes or the stuffing or the pie. Milo actually ate a substantial amount of cranberry sauce and roll, so that was a semi success. Nora would only taste the gravy, and refused to touch or consider anything else.

I keep vastly underestimating how insanely hard it is to deal with two toddlers. That said, despite everything, it was a great Thanksgiving. And, despite everything, I am still looking forward to our cozy family Christmas.

I just hope we stay out of the ER.

Striving

The potatoes are boiling, so I have some time here. Hopefully what I'm about to write will make sense, but, I just broke a fluorescent light bulb so perhaps I am suffering from mercury inhalation. Anyway...

I have a friend from graduate school who is one of the most cheerful people I know. Oh, sure, he's haunted by demons like the rest of us, but he's exceedingly cheerful about it. When we were students, I'd have him and other friends over for dinner and we'd sit up late into the night talking about stuff like our crazy professors, whether reality can be directly discerned, whether we were ever going to find jobs, and Buddhism.

My friend is the most enthusiastic Buddhist I know. He comes from a country in which most of the people practice Buddhism, and he is pretty serious about it to the point of trying really, really, really hard to adhere to certain dietary restrictions despite his incredible love of chicken. My cheerful friend attributes his cheerfulness to his ability to give up desire and live in the moment. He believes that attachment causes suffering and so he is not attached to any one person, thing, way of life, or...anything really. Because of this lack of attachment he loves all people, instead of just loving some people. His day-to-day journey is focused on leading a desire-free life, which enables him to accept what comes and take joy in every moment. He is a delightful person to be around, and he is incredibly generous in spirit and in action.

I would make a terrible Buddhist.

Many parts make a lot of sense to me, particularly the stuff about compassion, and about living in the moment, but I cannot wrap my head around the desire-less part of the whole thing. Part of what makes life so beautiful to me is the presence of desire, regardless of whether it is fulfilled. To me, desire is closely wrapped up in ambition, and in a sense of striving, trying, pushing, struggling to achieve something special. Desire is also about a sense of yearning, and I find that yearning to be poignant and meaningful. Life is exciting in part due to desire and the struggle to achieve -- at least for me. Even with something as commonplace as love, I've always embraced the struggle inherent in loving from afar, loving in a manner that could ultimately be unrequited, which is okay from my point of view, because the very act of loving, regardless of its consequences, is joyous. The painful parts of these experiences heightens the joyful parts for me.

One of my mentors refers to the type of struggle people engage in when becoming profoundly stuck in a problem as "intellectual agony", which he later re-termed "joyful agony." He wanted to capture how worth it he finds the agony that we experience when we, for instance, spend a week trying and failing to create a proof. I know exactly what he means, which is probably why I majored in math. That agony is terrible but the occasional epiphany that follows it is so sublime. It makes everything else worth it. And even without the epiphany, the agony itself is so deeply gut-wrenching that it reminds you that you're alive, that the very struggle itself is meaningful. I have many memories of maddening frustration as I worked and worked to try to understand something just beyond my grasp. It could be infuriating, but I also remember how alive I felt during those times. And how beautiful the crisp fall day would appear to me when I emerged from the bowels of some dusty building on the quad, how everything about the world struck me as almost painfully perfect, down to the very breeze hitting my face. All of these feelings are intimately related to desire to understand, to achieve, and the keen, joyful ache that such a desire evokes.

I'm not the kind of person who does well with setting modest expectations. The downside to this is that the disappointment that comes when I don't achieve what I set out to do is sharp and painful, and sometimes embarrassing. If I don't expect too much, then I can be pleasantly surprised if things go well and avoid harsh disappointment when they don't. This might lead to a more even-keeled, calm demeanor.

On the other hand, I think that at times my ability to whole-heartedly embrace my desire serves to push me a little bit more. It makes me try a little harder, work a little more, and it might make it a little more possible for me to achieve the things I go after. So, it's risky. I feel like I am wearing my heart on my sleeve in kind of a pathetic way. My cards are on the table. I want to do a good job as a mom and a wife, I want to do right by my family. But the scarier stuff is that I want to be able to have a family and simultaneously get tenure at my R1 university. I want to get the fancy high-stakes grant (oh, how I want this grant). I want to get my signature piece published in my field's top journal. I want to do work that really matters. That changes how people think. That changes how we teach. The kinds of things I want are likely to make me fall flat on my face, so it's kind of hard, and a little embarrassing, to put it out there like that. But I want these things.

I want to struggle. I want to work at things, to try to do something hard that I don't know if I can achieve or not. The uncertainty is scary (can I do it?), but the struggle makes me feel like my life is worth something.

I want, I want, I want.

Every Mom Thinks Her Kids Are Brilliant...

See this picture? See all that drawing and scribbling? And then see the big thing in the lower left corner of the magna doodle? That thing that looks suspiciously like an "M"?

Today Nora was drawing with the magna doodle, over on the other side of the room. Then she carefully produced that thing we see in the lower left corner, all by herself, and said "M for Milo! M for Milo!"

She is not yet 2. I think it's a pretty snazzy M for not yet 2.

**********

Speaking of Milo, tonight he was on the changing table seriously inspecting his toes. The kids are currently fascinated with getting the fuzzies out from between their toes these days. Go figure. Anyway, Milo's busy doing that but Jake is trying to change his diaper, thus interfering with Milo's intentions. Milo says, irritably, "I'm trying to work here!"

Awesome Stuff Middle Schoolers Say

Amy: Could you walk pi feet?

Kid: Pi feet...well, yeah, but it's gonna be like really really hard to figure out whether it is exactly pi feet.

Amy: Okay. So, is really really hard the same as impossible, or would it be possible?

Kid: Almost. Almost.

Amy: Almost possible?

Kid: You never know what, uh, technology's gonna come up with these days. Because they're coming out with iPhones and everything.

Getting Ready

This weekend we were once again blessed with gorgeous weather. Today it actually reached 60 degrees! Yesterday it reached the low 50s, and given that December is just around the corner, we'll take it. The Thanksgiving ingredients are procured (mostly), the kids are all worn out from spending the entire weekend in various parks, and our soup-of-the-week is sitting pretty in the fridge.

As the holidays approach, with the season of eating and all, I've ramped up my exercise schedule. Once the kids shifted to only one afternoon nap I started avoiding my weekend morning runs because I felt guilty about leaving Jake with them. But I realized, if I'm ever going to run, it has to come at the expense of something. It's not like I can create time out of thin air to secure an hour for working out, so if I have to do it as the kids romp around in the park with Jake, so be it. He doesn't mind and they seem fine, so I don't know why I was feeling so guilty. Today at the halfway mark I ran into 3 of my neighbors and joined them for the rest of the run. Everything goes so much quicker and easier when there are people to talk to.

This afternoon found the whole neighborhood seemingly in the park, enjoying that last gasp of nice weather. The kids played with a bunch of their friends, we talked to their parents, and then came home to a house fragrant with the scents of lemon grass and coconut milk. It gets dark early now; it's just about all the way dark by 5 p.m. I like this, because it represents the changing of the seasons and the warm, cozy feeling that comes upon us when winter is at the door. It makes us all come inside and spend our evenings at the hearth, one eye on the pot bubbling on the stove. (Well, okay...this scene would be better if we actually had a working fireplace. But still.) The kids munched on "appetizers" of cheese and meatballs while Jake and I drank mugs of mulled cider.

Autumn is such a great time of year, even late autumn like right now before the snows come. It's still warm enough to be outside without being in pain. It's warm enough for skirts and knee socks, for knee-length boots and short coats, for cotton sweaters and jeans. The time for mufflers, mittens, layers, long underwear, wool, and flannel will come soon enough. For now, we just enjoy the season.

A couple of pictures from last weekend (when it was colder):

What we think, what we say

You have to understand that this conversation occurs about 80 times a day:

Nora: Where's Daddy?

Me: He's at home.

Nora: Where's Milo?

Me: He's right next to you.

Milo: I'm right here!

Nora: Where'd Grandmom go?

Me: She's in Washington.

Nora: ...(brief pause as she tries to think up something else)...Where's Daddy?

Me: You already asked that one, kiddo.

Nora: Where's Daddy?

Me: I don't know, Nora, where is Daddy?

Nora: He's at HOME! Where's twin whisperer?

Me: She went home. She'll be back on Monday.

Nora: Where'd Milo go? Where's Milo?

Me: I don't know, Nora, where is Milo?

Nora: He's right there! ...Where's Daddy?

Me: OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD YOU KNOW WHERE HE IS NOW YOU'RE JUST MESSING WITH ME YOU LITTLE --

Just kidding. I just think that part.

Well, we have to buy a new dryer. And I am a week (and counting) behind on a book chapter. And I have to serve on an advisory board in a couple of weeks, taking me away from normal work for 2 days, and I also have to give a talk in the middle of that. Oh, and I've agreed to submit yet another NSF grant that is due super soon (Jan 7th) with 2 of my colleagues, and serve as the PI. When is all of this going to happen? I am letting Jake deal with the kids tonight so that I can stay late at work, but every time I do something like that I feel super guilty. I wish there were 2 of me.

But that isn't what I wanted to talk about...I am noticing that the kids are doing some interesting, weird cognitive stuff lately. For instance, they still don't realize that pictures in books are only pictures. So sometimes they want to hug the pictures of various animals, and if something in a picture really interests them, like a ball, they want to pick it up. Yesterday we were looking at a book with a picture of a drum and a mallet, and Milo wanted to pick up the mallet and bang the drum. I keep telling them we can't because it's just a picture, but they obviously don't get it!

The other interesting thing is their lack of understanding of relative size. Nora keeps trying to take her doll's clothes and shoes and put them on, even though they are way too tiny. She keeps asking me to help her put on her doll's shoe (which is big enough to hold my big toe, but that's about it). Yesterday at play group the kids had a doll house and it had a bridge that was about 3 inches wide and 8 inches long. Nora wanted to walk on the bridge (and even tried).

The other night at dinner Jake and I were talking about something or other and Milo piped up by telling us "I saw a wizard today!" I couldn't figure out what he was saying for quite a while. A wizard? A lizard? What was he talking about? He continued, "I saw a wizard in the park today!" The twin whisperer had taken them to a special toddler park, but we still had no idea what he was talking about. Regardless, it is a new milestone that Milo is starting to talk about something that happened to him in the past, telling us a story of his day. I thought that was cool. The next day I told the twin whisperer about it and she confirmed that indeed there is a giant stone statue of a wizard in the toddler park, and Milo had been fascinated by it. So he actually successfully communicated some interesting aspect of his day to us!

What Next?

We've got a giant load of diapers washing right now, and our dryer just broke.

Touche, dryer, touche.

23 Months

Milo and Nora are 23 months old, almost 2. It's hard to believe. I have taken few pictures since last time, which is an indication of how crazy the past month has been. Recently I was looking at some pictures and videos from when the kids turned 1 and I was struck by how many changes they have gone through. This time last year they were still babies, not yet walking, barely talking, not even old enough to fight with each other. And now, look at them -- running around like a couple of big kids, developing mad ball skillz, identify letters and shapes and numbers, and duking it out with the best of them.

Milo. He's friendly with people. He tries to make friends with other kids, including big kids. Recently he charmed a 7th-grader by asking him to make a basket. Once you hang out with him for an hour or so, he'll climb up on the sofa with you and ask you to read book after book. Milo is a little charmer these days.

A week or so ago Milo was walking in the reeds and weeds and a stick somehow got stuck up his sleeve and created a long, nasty scratch from his inner elbow to his armpit. It wasn't a deep scratch, but it looked pretty bad for quite a while and poor Milo was freaked out by the sight of it. It got so that whenever it was time to change his shirt, he'd start crying in anticipation of seeing that scratch. It really disturbed him. Milo is a sensitive kid with a strong imagination. I feel like I know what he's all about. I identify with Milo.

The kids have developed some imaginative play, and Milo puts that to use to pretend that he's going bye-bye, like he's going to the store, to school, or to work. This mainly involves putting some sort of bag over his shoulder (or alternatively, on his head) and walking around that way. Sometimes he'll also put my shoes on for that extra je ne sais quois.

Milo is getting a little more aggressive these days. Sometimes he'll decide that it is a good idea to push, hit, or kick Nora. He sort of does it as an experiment, not really in anger all that much. We respond appropriately (I hope) and he knows he's not allowed to do it, but it is admittedly still a bit puzzling. Milo is also extremely possessive of his toys. Anything Nora wants that Milo views as "his" (like any ball, ever) is totally off-limits from Milo's perspective. If Nora happens to wander by and so much as glance at one of our 800 balls lying around the house, Milo will pitch a fit. At the same time, with practice and adult guidance, Milo can and does share. Recently Nora was crying about something, I don't remember what, and Milo bent down and picked up one of his balls and brought it over to Nora, offering it to her. I guess he figured that holding a ball always makes him feel waaaaay better, so maybe it would help Nora too.

Milo's favorite exclamation whenever he drops something is "Oh damn it" (believe me, we're working on that). His favorite thing to do is play with balls, or alternatively, cuddle up to read a book. Milo's favorite person is still daddy, and his favorite kitty is Caspian, and his favorite food seems to be all of them, but french toast might be the final winner. Milo still takes a solid 3-hour nap, and remains the sleep champion of all babies and toddlers. Milo remains a pretty happy go lucky kid who is fairly independent and confident.

Nora. Nora has learned to give kisses and she loves doing that now. She will even kiss Milo, which he thinks is hilarious. Nora is such a people-oriented person. She really likes to interact with us, talk to us, hold and be held, give us kisses, and get tickled. Nora is shy and intensely suspicious around new people, but she warms up in time. She's not a wildly affectionate kid with people in general, but she is so affectionate with us, her family.

Nora can now recognize the words "Nora" and "Milo", and she has just this week started spelling out the letters in those words. (Sometimes accurately, sometimes not). In fact, any time she sees an "M" anywhere, Nora will say "M for Milo!" Tonight at dinner Nora pointed at the table and said "T for table!" Where does she get this stuff? Nora really enjoys coloring with crayons and instructing us to make various shapes and letters.

Nora is also starting to get into some imaginative play. She will take a block or some other object and pretend that it is a cup and that she is drinking coffee. She also likes to pretend talking on the phone, complete with "Hello, how are YOU????" Nora likes to pretend to cook with her own pot and spoon when I am cooking at the stove. Neither kid has any interest in dolls yet. I'm going to give them each a doll on their birthday (which I have been saving since a year ago, because I bought them for their 1st birthday but didn't give them to the kids since they didn't seem interested yet). Nora isn't into balls like Milo is, but she's not into dolls either, so she's really more of a creative drawing/reading/coloring type, I guess.

Nora's sleep has improved since I put her back on reflux medicine. I'm glad for her sake and for mine. Currently she's struggling again due to some teeth coming in, but in general at least the up-all-night-burping-spitting-up stuff has gone away. Nora is a solid hour-and-a-half napper, but that's about it, so we always have a lot more alone time with Nora because she naps so much less than Milo. Nora spends most of that time asking over and over again where Milo is. Nora has a strong need to repeatedly locate everybody in her world. She wants to keep track of us all.

Nora's favorite food is probably strawberries, or any kind of fruit. Her favorite book is Stellaluna. Her favorite toy at playgroup is the trike, which is too big for her, but she likes to get on it and steer around. Nora also loves to jump, and to hang from her arms. Nora loves to wear her sunglasses, and to put her hair up in a bow or a rubber band. Like Milo, Nora is a big talker and can endlessly keep up a running monologue.

The last month has been crazy busy. I'm even late with this update, since they turned 23 months a couple of days ago. I feel like I have no time for anything and it's all starting to reach a head, but having M&N around definitely keeps me grounded and takes my head out of work, which is a good thing. I can't believe they're going to be 2 next month. I guess that whole thing about time flying really is true. The days crawl, but the years fly.

Things Kids Say

(Milo throws a football up to the ceiling)

Nora: Wow Milo! ... What a good idea, Milo!

(Nora goes up to the cat, Sam, and pets her)

Nora: How are YOU, Sammy? I'm fine!

(Jake and the kids are outside and Milo looks into the window well that houses our basement egress window)

Milo: Bye bye! Bye bye!

Jake: There's nothing down there. What are you saying bye bye to?

Milo: There's a guy!

Jake: What guy? Do you mean the little Buddha statue?

Milo: (Points to the window) Guy in the window, going bye bye!

What are you seeing Milo? The kid creeps me out sometimes. He also sometimes points into the sunroom and says "There's something in there!" What does he see that we cannot see?

November Gift

The weather was unbelievable this weekend. Unbelievable! It was 70 on both Saturday and Sunday, with clear, sunny skies. It was so gorgeous. It felt like September, not November. On Saturday morning we went to the arboretum, which is what's featured in the pictures above. The leaves have mostly fallen from the trees but the warm sun made the day beautiful nevertheless. Saturday afternoon found Jake and the kids outside again, at the park, while I made a dinner of greek tomato soup with orzo and feta.

This morning Jake took the kids to another park where they ran into about a dozen neighbors and friends. This afternoon the neighborhood had a giant leaf-raking party in the park. We cleared away all of the leaves from the flat area on the field that we will eventually turn into a skating rink when the weather gets cold enough. Nora and Milo had fun running around with a bunch of kids, and Milo befriended a middle schooler by repeatedly imploring him to make baskets. He was only too happy to oblige. Later he ran up to his mom to tell her how smart Milo is, and what a good talker he is. These days, when Nora sees somebody on the street she'll shout "HI!!!! How are YOU????" with the utmost enthusiasm.

While I was outside with the kids, Jake made a delicious fall pasta with roasted squash, onions, and escarole. We had mulled cider with it to complete the fall medley.

This weekend I had to create syllabi and course proposals for 5 new courses to put up for departmental approval. I'm happy that I was able to get all of that work done during the kids' naps and after their bedtime. Now it's Sunday night, I'm done with that service task, and I think I might actually do something mindless for an hour or two before bed. Ah, the luxury.

November Already?

Halloween was our coldest day to date but the kids still had fun. Milo in particular was completely awed by the mayhem at the park, all of the amazing people to stare at, all of the commotion to observe. I took the kids trick-or-treating to a few houses, mainly just friends' houses, because it's kind of a pain to simultaneously herd both kids in the same direction and help them up and down the porch steps. They were somewhat amazed by the fact that they got to pick candy out of a bowl. They had no idea what the candy was, but they liked the concept of picking things. Sometimes they even said "trick or treat", but usually it was after the fact. All in all they had a great time and a fun day. I used our pumpkin seeds to make a pesto sauce with pumpkin seeds and parsley, and then I cooked the pumpkin and made a chocolate pumpkin pie. Milo has been eating the extra pumpkin puree that I didn't use for the pie, which is very sweet and delicious.

Nora has a cough that worries me. It seems to be getting worse and worse. Milo seems to be on the mend.

Today we interviewed a potential Twin Whisperer replacement since she is only going to stay with us through December. We like the new lady a whole lot and I would be happy if she agreed to take the job. She didn't agree to it on the spot, though, so I'd better not get my hopes up. A part of me also worries that maybe I should have them in some sort of program childcare where they'll be getting more structured activities. My friends' kids who are in those programs know more stuff than the kids who aren't, like their letters and numbers and songs and so forth, but...does that matter? Nora & Milo would probably catch up once they hit preschool and school anyway, so is it a big deal right now if they can't count to 10 yet? Why am I worried about these things?

I have to give a talk at the end of the week that I haven't written yet, and I have a book chapter due in 2 weeks that I haven't written yet, and I've got to travel to the Twin Cities and back in the span of 24 hours, and tomorrow night there's a school board meeting that I'm supposed to attend (which is just going to piss me off, because those people always do), and, and, and --

November is the month for worrying.