Five years ago today, on March 28, 2003 ...

0328 going home (1)
Originally uploaded by MommyCheryl

We brought home our two tiny bundles of boy. I remember being a nervous wreck on the drive home because I had them in the back seat and they just seemed so precarious, so fragile and so my responsibility. We'd roomed in with them at the hospital the night before, a situation that resulted in zero sleep. Then Steph had to go to work and I waited at the hospital with them all day -- taking a break for my own medical appointment -- until she could come help me make the big move.

We got them home, took them out of the car seats and put them on our bed. Then we stood back and looked at them and each other and felt completely and totally overwhelmed. I called my sister and told her to come help. She did. And stayed for the next week, taking the night shift so that two new, overwhelmed and nervous mothers --including one with postpartum depression -- could at least get some sleep. Looking back, I can think of so many things I would have done differently. But I also know that I'm not the same person I was then and the person I was couldn't possibly have had the presence of mind to do anything differently. So I'll give myself a break. And just be so glad that five years later, they're bigger, sleep longer and I'm no longer petrified just to drive with them in the car.

What a difference five years make!

Daniel doesn't want to be our friend.

So, I've written before (quite a while ago, actually) about the troubled relationship Eddie and Chas have with the neighbor boy, Daniel. He's about 6 months older than they are and I sense a bit envious of both their toys and their maternal attention. He's kind of a sullen little guy. Anyway, today I heard him come to the front door as I was working on the program for the school auction. The boys had been out riding the new pedal cars they got for their birthday.

"I have a dad and you don't," Daniel said.
"Yeah. We have two moms," Eddie replied nonchalantly.

The conversation moved a bit out of earshot. But soon, Chas was back complaining that Daniel doesn't follow clearly stated rules of racing and doesn't want to be his friend, so he doesn't want to be Daniel's friend. Then Eddie comes in and says Daniel told him that they were supposed to have a dad, not two moms. I asked Eddie what he thought of that. "Well, it's wrong," he said. "A family can have a mom and a dad or two moms or even two dads or just one mom or one dad," he said. I told him he was absolutely right, then asked, "What makes a family?" I expected the word "love," but no.
"Four," Eddie said. Huh?
"Four people make a family," he said quite confidently. And then he reiterated that Daniel did not seem to understand the way families work. I agreed. And I must say, I felt both a twinge of sadness at knowing this is just the first of much teasing my boys will face, along with a twinge of maternal pride because frankly, both Eddie and Chas gave such perfect responses to the pipsqueak's homophobia.

Apparently copy editing is NOT a core value.

Got this invitation in the mail today. It's for the 125th anniversary of my old employer, The (Tacoma) News Tribune. I think it speaks for itself. (Click to see an enlarged version you can actually read.)

Birthdays and gunfire...

OK, they aren't actually related. But in the time since my last blog post, Eddie and Chas have turned 5. They say they actually feel different. More, fiveish. They had a great party with their friends at eh Science Center and will be having one with family this Saturday. The night before their actual birthday, we had the same meal for dinner that we had the night before they were born. I remember it so well only because I was throwing it up about an hour before they actually debuted. I think we'll make it a tradition.

And now for gunfire. There was a shooting at the Southcenter Mall last night. A couple of hours later, I got a phone call. My grandniece was not only in the mall, but near the shooting. She was with her Tolo date shopping for an outfit or something. The gunfire started and her date ducked behind a kiosk. She froze. At this point in the story I'm thinking she needs a new date. But it turns out that he quickly jumped back up and pulled her behind the kiosk with him. Now I'm thinking he is a fine choice for a date. Regardless, they were sequestered inside a cell phone store by the police for several hours. I haven't heard anything since then (she called her mom from inside the store) but I know she was pretty upset, naturally. About an hour after we heard, I turned to Steph and said, "You know, if I were still covering crime at a newspaper, this would have been a pretty cool 'get' for me." Then we laughed about how different our reactions were to this now than they would have been back in the day. Now we just got to be concerned aunties, notworrying about anything but Paige's wellbeing. It's kind of nice.

Swimming and Soccer = Exhaustion

So Thursdays are a little tough around here. Swim lessons at 11, followed by lunch, playground break and soccer at 2:15. Shortly after we got home, this is how I found Eddie:





It was a split decision, however, as Chas remains perky and alert:

Duck, Duck, Crash.

I think the worst thing about what happened to me tonight is what could have happened. I mean, not to be all melodramatic but, this is exactly the dumb kind of thing that kills people. And then Steph would have had to explain that I died from a Duck, Duck, Goose injury. What a humiliating way to go.

OK, here's the story. Eddie really wanted to play duck, duck, goose tonight. We've removed our coffee table in anticipation of a new sectional Thursday, so there's just enough open space to kinda sorta do it. All went well for the first few rounds. We called out things like "cow" or "giraffe" instead of duck and it was the height of hilarity. Then I tagged Eddie as the goose and took off running. But I was wearing my beloved winter crocs and somehow I tripped. I slammed face first -- hard -- into the arm of the loveseat that had been pushed aside (also in anticipation of the new sectional). My head snapped back quite sickeningly both for me and for Steph. I crumpled as Chas joyfully jumped on my back, clearly not recognizing that this wa not a funny-ha-ha kind of moment. I was seriously afraid I had broken my back or my neck and thought I'd be leaving the house in an ambulance. After a minute or two on the ground, where Steph gently eased me. My lip is quite swollen, I'm a bit nauseated and my neck and head are killing me, but I think I'll survive.

Actually, the first sign I had that I was alright was when I started to worry about having to tell the emergency room people that it was a Duck,Duck,Goose-related injury. Had I, in fact, injured myself any other way, I may indeed have gone to the hospital just to check things out. But a $75 copay coupled with the humiliation of having to explain it is just enough to keep me home with an ice pack. I will, however, be thinking of a good story to tell people about my fat lip and it will NOT involve D,D,G.