It's never too early . . .

. . . to impose your dreams on your unwilling children. At least, that's according to Nu.

Today, he announced that he and his brother would take the kids out to "train" them in their soccer skills. This is not the first time (or even the 2nd) that they have taken the kids out to a soccer field to drill them on the basics. To prepare his twin 2-yr-olds, Nu brought 7 soccer balls, a ball pump, cones (for running drills), and soccer jerseys for each of them.

Thanks to some friends' generosity, Alex sports Zidane's jersey and Sasha has Ronaldinho. He wanted to get them some cleats, but I convinced him that we could hold off for a few more months. The kids were excited to play some soccer with daddy. They were eager to bring their own soccer balls. They played enthusiastically. . . for 10 minutes. After that, they were lured away by snacks, leaves on the ground, butterflies, their water bottle, and pretty much anything else that crossed their line of vision.

Alex was particularly fond of the soccer ball pump and tried to "fix" all the soccer balls in Nu's bag. When asked if she would like to play some more soccer, Sasha said, "No. I want to eat." Conclusive confirmation of her mom's genes--as if we needed it.

I came along to provide snacks, enjoy the beautiful day, and to ensure they weren't pressured into sprinting tests. Alex was more participatory than Sasha and demonstrated some impressive ball-handling skills. Sasha can run pretty fast and enjoyed running over (not around) the cones. In the end, Dad and Bro gave up and played some soccer themselves while the rest of us ate our sandwiches in the shade.


Sasha: "How long do we need to hold this pose?" Alex: "My cheeks hurt, daddy."

Palin Debate Chart

Note: I make no claims as to Palin as a good VP candidate. I just think this chart is really funny!Props to Anna and Nu for sending this to me. Well worth the time lost at work.

How to Create a Diva

Step 1: Paint her nails--preferably with pink Wet-N-Wild nail polish.

Step 2: Tell her that a pink mani/pedi coordinates well with her pretty dress.

Step 3: Allow her several minutes in front of the mirror to admire her new look. Listen to lots of "pretty, pretty. Pretty nails and Pretty dress. I'm pretty!"

Step 4: After her West Side Story moment, watch as she flounces around the house telling her brother, dad, and stuffed animals just how pretty she is.

Step 5: Regret the damn nail polish when it starts to chip and she falls apart on the living room floor. "My pink is coming off!!!!!! Paint my nails! PAINT THEM!"

Step 6: Begin saving for her MTV Super Sweet Sixteen TV appearance.

"Have you seen my pretty nail polish, Baba? I'm pretty!"

My new geeky addiction

I'm not great at math. In high school, I never understood probability and statistics. Like what are the chances I'll flip a coin and get tails 10 times in a row? Or, say . . . what are the chances of getting pregnant with twins two times in a row? But I digress.

While I cannot create or use statistical formulas, I do understand the value of statistical analysis.
In one of my classes, we're looking at the difference between causation and correlation. In other words, things that happen together sometimes cause each other and sometimes don't. While preparing for my students, I stumbled across this website from George Mason University:

www.stats.org

They critically analyze news stories about research studies and give some perspective to all those scary reports about hot-topics like cancer, vaccines, and toxins. The blog is now my new fave.

It's like the adult version of the urban-myth-buster website, SNOPES, but it's not about email scams from Nigerians trying to move millions into my bank account. Both are great ways to waste more time online. Enjoy!

Palin and Clinton

We all knew that Tina Fey would make a great Sarah Palin, but in this SNL clip I can't even tell them apart!

They're finally asleep!

Day Four of Big Beds and it's been a wild ride. While moments have been crazy, it's mostly due to the extreme excitement about their new beds, blankets and pillow. I only wish I could get so excited about bedding--oh, the thrills of being 2yrs old.

Here's a recap . . .

Day One: Kids wreck their new room. Mom rethinks her decision to move away from cribs.

Day Two: Kids again spend 2+ hours bouncing around the room and fall asleep in a heap. Mom goes in to give 34 stern lectures during that time. Mom also google-searches Gypsies in the market for two new recruits.

Day Three: Alex starts to show the strain of continued sleeplessness at school and at home. Possibly due to extreme fatigue, kids go to bed after only 90 minutes of bedroom gymnastics. Is this a light at the end of the tunnel? Mom peeks in to find them asleep--both in Sasha's bed. So cute I forgive the first days of madness.


Day four: Kids fall asleep after only 20 minutes of quiet talking. Extreme exhaustion is finally working in mom's favor!

The next kids will be in cribs till they're 12

We moved to BIG BEDS today and I was very nervous. We have plotted the move, bought the furniture, PAINTED the furniture, and spent the last two weekends dismantling our office to make room for our rapidly expanding family.

Alex and Sasha were pumped about the new beds. We talked up the sheets, the wall decals (not yet arrived) and the new privilege of sleeping with a PILLOW for the first time. They actually said, "Thank you mommy! Thank you daddy! I WOOOOVE my new bed!!!!!" It was very touching.



Since we took everything out of the office (their new room), we thought it wise not to move any of their toys in until the sleeping patterns were well established. In this room the kids have beds and an empty dresser and . . . nothing else. Every item that could distract or destroy was removed from the room. Or so I thought.

The kids start their first big-bed nap and I hear a lot of activity. I went in a few times and remind them to go to sleep, but ultimately had to wait for them to calm down and sleep themselves. At various times . . .

Alex terrorized Sasha by trying to sleep next to her.

Sasha laughed hysterically at her stuffed animals.

They both ran several hundred laps around the room.

At one point, I heard a mysterious heavy banging sound. It crossed my mind to investigate, but I remembered that I had stripped the room bare (such a prepared mom!). They were probably just kicking the wall or something--no worries.

Eventually, I heard the sweet sound of *silence* and thought what every parent thinks right before disaster strikes, "That wasn't so bad. I'm a really good parent. Maybe I should write books about this and make millions helping other families with daunting transitions."

I peeked in the room after an hour of quiet and found

1. Kids alive and well. Check.
2. Kids sleeping snuggled adorably with stuffed "amimals". Check.
3. Kids sleeping in correct beds. Sheets still on them. Check. Check.

4. Flimsy window shades completely destroyed. Metal bar removed from shades to bang gashes in the week-old dresser and bed frames.


















Clearly, no one should buy this book.