How many more ways can my children challenge my sanity by using their bodily fluids? Scratch that question; I don’t even want to know! Today was a disgustingly cold and rainy day. There should be some law in place that requires everyone to stay in bed, under the covers on days like this, but since no law is yet in place, we went about our day as usual. The boys ate a lot of lunch and were falling asleep. They were literally lying on the floor dozing off, so I got them ready for nap time, since it was close to that time anyway. Figuring they were so exhausted and they’d pass right out, I tried something I’ve only done a handful of times in the last few months. I sent them off to bed without being taped. They were so excited and filled with excitement and promises of all good things. Just this weekend, I caught them playing cowboys with their tape. They ripped it off, curled it into a lasso-likeness and were using them as whips. They were running around the room screaming “yee-haw! yee-haw!” Suffice to say, they were glad to have the opportunity to be tape-free today. Their little eyes gleamed as I repeated “Sure, no tape for nap time. You’re big boys now!” They eagerly climbed over the baby gate into their room (or attempted to). They were wearing skinny jeans today and couldn’t get over the gate unassisted. It was actually a hilarious site to see. Laughing at their unsuccessful efforts was probably what made them turn on me.

They went right into their beds, snuggled up to each other, and appeared to be falling asleep. I went in my room to put away some laundry, all the while, closely listening to the monitor. I heard giggles and checked them, but no big deal. They were playing with trucks and baby dolls – with their clothing on. Success. A few seconds later I heard Joseph say “Pee! Pee! Pee!” Jackson’s little voice quickly followed with “Good job, Joseph! Now you do poop!” I ran so quickly into their room, nearly swinging their busted door off the hinges once more. I found Joseph in the corner, standing over a heap of comforters (his own and his brother’s), with his very own little Christmas package in hand. He very excitedly said “Mommy, I did it! I peed in my own toilet!” Yes. He made a makeshift toilet out of blankets and used it. To his credit, his pants were still on. They were very angry with me for the duration of nap time, because their comforters were in the washer, and they just couldn’t understand why they couldn’t have them back.

They used the normal toilets numerous times today, with much success. By dinner and bath time, I was barely hanging on. I was exhausted and feeling defeated. I was proud of getting through the ordinary task of bathing three stinky children. It was music to my ears to hear the water draining and know that there was only about an hour or so left until they’d all be tucked into bed for the night. I took Joseph out of the tub and handed his wet, clean little body to Todd, who was waiting with a towel. Before he could even get the towel firmly around his body, he peed all over the floor. Joseph peed, not Todd, just to be clear. Back in the bath he went, while I grabbed the Lysol. He doesn’t usually impress me like this twice in one day, but today was an exception.

Taylor is back to school after having a few days off for the Thanksgiving holiday. We had a wonderfully fun, relaxing holiday weekend and had lots of fun as a family. On Monday morning, T was not interested in returning to school. She told me she wasn’t going because she wanted to “stay home and relax in bed and stretch out all day instead.” I suppose that’s a fair Monday morning comment, but she went to school anyway. I’m milking this Elf on the Shelf thing for all it’s worth and encouraging good behavior for the Elf’s benefit. Does anyone else do the elf thing? It usually works for us. Taylor had a mini temper tantrum during dinner the other night because she didn’t like that “all the leaves fell down in the yard and they accidentally raked them into her bowl of food.” For the record, I cooked with parsley. Then, she expressed her disdain for leftovers by saying “I’m not eating this stuff. It’s the exact same thing as last night and not something different!” We reminded her that Rocky the Elf was watching and would be reporting back to Santa that night, and she quickly sung a different tune.

I’m proud to say, bribery is not beneath me in my parenting game.

Tonight’s bedtime adventures included an eclectic mixture of excuses from all three kids…leading up to bedtime and after I closed their doors and said goodnight. Sometimes, they go to bed nicely, but other nights go like this:

Can we have bacon tomorrow? One more hug. What’s your favorite book? Mommmmm, there’s a giant booger that’s really stuck up in my nose and it won’t come out. My water isn’t the right temperature. Can we watch the balloon parade now? He’s touching my hair. He’s touching my leg. I want my blanket. That’s not my blanket; the other one is mine. Can I have more milk? Where is Ranger? I have one more poop that is stuck; can I try to get it out now? What happens if we run out of toilet paper? My penis has a boo boo. Can we go outside? One more kiss. I hear my brothers talking. Where is Tay Tay; we go see her now? I still have a cough. Do my brothers have a cough too? Is Dad going to shave his beard? Oh no; Nemo’s missing! One more kiss? My pajamas are too hot. Can we play with Emma soon? Did I like turkey when I was a little baby? How come it can’t be my birthday tomorrow? Give me back my pillow! Can I come in your bed, Mama? Joseph, wake up! Don’t go to sleep yet. How come there are two brothers and only one sister? Can we have a sister too? Can we have a cat? I have a boo boo too. I smell something. My socks are too little for my feet.

This kind of stuff makes me nuts, especially after a long day. However, when the quiet finally creeps upon the house and the sound of silence is too much for me to handle because it’s not natural, I creep into their rooms and look at their little sleeping bodies, and my Mommy heart is happy. I wouldn’t mind a full night of sleep, but I am happy.

Did you know that November is Prematurity Awareness Month? In fact, November 17^th happens to be World Prematurity Day. I never knew any of this, and did not know too much about prematurity, as a whole, before my tiny men entered my life. Each year since then, I have been so honored to share my own birthday (I’m 30-again today) with this awesome day, and spread awareness.

As most of my readers know, my twin boys were born via emergency C-Section at 34 weeks, 5 days. For reference, “normal” gestation time is 40 weeks. I managed to keep the boys in for quite some time, and did everything I was supposed to do, but they had their own plan, and my body could not safely keep them inside any longer. No matter what anyone tells me, and despite being a logical person and knowing this was not my fault, this is guilt I will always live with. Although 34 weeks is longer than some stories of prematurity I have heard, my own preemies definitely had their issues. No two stories are the same. When my boys entered the world, I got to see them briefly, and then they were immediately brought down to the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit), each with their own team of doctors and nurses. They spent eleven days there, fighting for their little lives. Seeing them so sick completely tore us apart. What was even worse was when I was discharged and sent home. Not only did I have to leave two huge pieces of my heart behind, but I had to figure out how to split my time between my sick preemie boys, and my beautiful 22-month-old daughter who was at home and still needed Mommy around.  I had to do all of this while recovering from a major surgery. All three of them needed me, but they were not all in the same place. Taylor did not much understand what was going on, but thankfully, she is and always has been a trooper.

The boys had a host of complications between them. They had trouble feeding for quite some time, and had to be tube fed. Joseph had a heart murmur that was detected in NICU that needed testing, ultrasounds, and follow-ups when we finally left the hospital. I remember sitting in the ultrasound room, trying to keep my five month old still so they could get images of his heart. All the while, trying not to think about Jackson and Taylor who were hanging out with my dad, just outside the hospital doors. I remember telling myself that my baby needs me to be strong, and this was not the appropriate time or place to lose it and cry. I did, however cry later that night when everyone was in bed.

Both boys had jaundice and had to be under phototherapy lights for a portion of each day. Jaundice happens when a baby has an underdeveloped liver and they can not get rid of the biliruben (a waste product) from their blood. For a while, both of the boys had a yellow look to their skin and the whites of their eyes. To deal with how scary it looked, we used to pretend that they were relaxing on the beach. They had to wear funny looking, foil-like sunglasses. Pretending they were a world away, in the Caribbean, enjoying a snooze on the beach made us laugh, even for a second. Jackson had a pneumothorax that required bedside surgery. A pneumothorax is a collapsed lung / accumulation of trapped air. I happened to be alone in my hospital room when the neonatologist came in to tell me that Jackson had this and urgently needed surgery. I could barely understand her and had to have her repeat it again before I gave her permission to do the surgery, signed the papers, and called family members. This sounded really scary to us, and although it was immediately necessary, it was something that was almost routine for the doctors who take care of preemies all day. He was put on a ventilator, which absolutely broke me down to see, but it helped him to relax, as the machine did all the breathing for him. They did chest x-rays and inserted a small tube into Jackson’s chest (it kind of looked like a thick milkshake straw) and that tube helped the air escape from where it shouldn’t have been. It was left in for a few days until his doctors were positive that they had gotten everything out, and was then removed. He still has a small scar on him, and it is my favorite part of him to kiss. It is his battle wound and he won the battle.

Both boys also had apnea and bradycardia events. This meant that they would basically stop breathing and because of that, their little heart beats would slow way down. Their monitors would beep away, alerting us and the nurses / doctors that it was happening. Sometimes at night, I still hear the beeps from the monitors going off in my head. These “episodes” usually lasted about 15-20 seconds each, and would be corrected by the nurses moving them around, undressing them, smacking their feet, etc. At one point, near day 9 or 10 in the NICU, we were told that Joseph was doing well and that he would be able to come home. As if on cue, he had a brady episode, so he was not able to leave with us. We still think that he refused to leave without his twin and this was his way of ensuring that wouldn’t happen. As it turned out, we got to bring both of our boys home on day 11. Together.

The boys had a host of other “minor” issues that were directly related to being premature, but we tackled each one of them head on as they came up. We followed up with a few specialists once we left the NICU and are now at the point where the boys see their pediatrician for their well visit once a year. They also have an ENT who they see because of complications that cause them to easily get croup, but we think we are nearing the point where that decreases. Time will tell.

Having my two sons born so early and in the NUCU was the hardest thing I have ever had to deal with. It was painful to watch them struggle. It was painful to know that they were hurting and not being allowed to pick them up and snuggle them. We were not able to hold them for days, and while I know this was medically necessary, it was still very upsetting and almost made me lose my mind. I carried them inside me for 34 weeks and then could only watch them through a plastic box. I felt like a spectator in their lives and had to rely on the doctors and nurses for knowing what they needed and when they needed it. However, I was never so thankful for their profession. The nurses and doctors took care of our sick children and loved on them like they were their own. They changed them and fed them when we were not there. They hugged them and sang to them. They called from their scheduled vacations to check on their progress. They cried with us when we were able to go home as a family of five. They were so supportive and compassionate and I will never adequately find the words to thank them, although I have tried numerous times. NICU doctors and nurses are incredible people are true heroes in this world. As painful as it is to write out, I can easily say that my sons would not be around today if it weren’t for these amazing people.

Here are a few “Dos and Don’ts” that were compiled by us, and a group of friends who also had preemies.

DO – Wash your hands every single time you enter the NICU / house. You should not pick up a preemie without making sure your hands are clean. They already have compromised immune systems and do not need “extra germs.” We had to pay hundreds of dollars for each boy, for a three month time period, for a shot the boys needed to keep them healthy and protect them from RSV. Insurance wouldn’t cover more than three months and their pulmonologist really thought they would benefit from six months. People not wanting to use hand sanitizer after we are voluntarily paying to stick our newborns to keep them healthy was just insulting.

DO NOT – Come over to visit if you even think you are sick. Again, germs are not good for little fighting bodies.

DO – Offer to bring meals, grocery shop, etc. Even if the parents don’t take you up on the offer right away, it means the world to them to know that you are there to help.

DO NOT – Show up unannounced. This is not meant to be mean, but when bringing home new babies (or a baby), it is a tough enough transition to begin with. When you add in the fact that they are sick preemies, it is often better for the parents to plan. Also, they will probably be really angry if they had just managed to get three kids to sleep and you ring their doorbell.

DO – Text, call, and ask how they are doing. Caring for sick newborns is scary and seems isolating to the parents. Check in on them and let them know that you care. Let them know that you are thinking of them.

DO NOT – Shy away from the parents because you don’t know what to say. Sometimes just talking and having normal conversation will brighten up their day.

DO – Ask questions. It is okay, really. If you want to know what the tubes, scars, etc. are, just ask. I, personally, would rather you ask a question instead of just assuming. I don’t mind explaining.

DO NOT – Choose this time to talk about serious, / non-life threatening matters. Trust me, parents of preemies have enough on their plates. This is not the time to hash out unresolved family drama.

Todd and I went through the scariest time of our lives when Jackson and Joseph were born and being treated in the NICU. We will forever be thankful for the people who made this time easier for us. My parents were (and still are) an invaluable source of help and support. Our friends, checking in with us, sending gifts, visiting, etc., helped to keep us sane. The group of moms of multiples friends I have online helped me get through this. I consider some of those women my best friends and could not have done this as gracefully without their support and encouragement.

I am happy to answer any questions you may have about prematurity. I am not an expert, nor am I a medical professional, but I have been down that road. To all preemie parents, know that it gets better. Keep your heads up. You can contact me via blog post or at twinsandtiaras@gmail.com

I am including just a few pictures from their NICU stay because the rest of them are still too difficult for me to even look at. I hate thinking of them that way and am so thankful that they are big and strong today!

 

 

 

 

So, some people have been asking me how toilet training has been going for the boys. They have been going pretty consistently when we sit them down to use the bathroom, but still will go in their diaper or their pull-up. I’m not too concerned yet and am just pleased that they are so willing to try.

Tonight, however, I wanted to throw in the towel. As Todd spent nearly two hours on the phone with our internet and cable provider, I got the kids ready for bed. Part of this included using the bathroom. They sat down side by side on their little toilets and did what they had to do. I was sitting on the floor getting diapers, pajamas, (and duct tape) ready when Jackson came running out of the bathroom, climbed on me, and grabbed either side of my face with each of his two little hands screaming “I did it! I did it!” I was congratulating him and praising him while trying to figure out why my own pants were wet. Surely, I didn’t pee myself? I am getting old. I am super sensitive to smells. As I was wondering about my wet pants, I smelled urine up close and instantly realized that one of those cute little hands that was on my face was wet. With urine. With my son’s urine. I had a mini panic attack, refrained from barfing, and then went to investigate the bathroom situation. Apparently, Jackson swirled his hand around in the mini toilet bowl, accidentally dumped it over, and then walked through it as he came out to see me. This explains the wetness on my own pants. One of his socks was saturated, and he kindly transferred it to me. After stopping Joseph from doing the same thing (he had his hand in the bowl splashing, but didn’t have a chance to do anything else) I hosed them down, cleaned the bathroom and put them to bed. I hope they read this post one day and buy me something pretty.

I say this often, but it’s a good thing they are cute.

My kids are tricky little jokesters. As they get older, their personalities come out even more, and they really are funny little people. We woke up Taylor around 11pm to see if she needed to use the bathroom before we went to bed. People think we are crazy, but this works well for us, and she usually goes right back to bed. I’ve learned to go less on opinion and more based on what works for my own family. She said she didn’t need to go. As Todd and I got into bed, relieved that we were done for the night, we hear T’s door crack open. She tip toes down the hall and runs into our room saying “I tricked you! I really tricked you guys! I do need to pee tonight!” After a bathroom break, a sip of milk, and checking to see what episode of FRIENDS was on, she went back to her room. She requested a pajama change because she was “too sweaty” tonight and wanted to wear her mermaid nightgown. We compromised (added pants underneath because it’s cold here!) and she went back to bed.

Done! Right? Wrong.

Fast forward a few hours later. It’s now 1 AM, as in asscrack of the morning. Everyone has been sleeping for quite some time, but Mom can’t turn off her brain and is still awake. No surprise there. I hear cries for Mama coming from the boys room. I ignore them at first to see if it’s just someone talking in their sleep (Jackson does that often) but he keeps crying that he needs me. He was half asleep when I went in, but I scooped him up and held him against me for a nice long cuddle. How many more times will I get to do this before he’s “too big,” before he turns me away? Before it’s no longer appropriate to inhale the sweet scent of the baby shampoo in his long hair? I cherish the moments even though I’m exhausted. I noticed that he had begun to rip his duck tape off (yes, we still need to tape them at naps and night because since they are learning letters and numbers, they will write their names and social security numbers on the walls – and we don’t allow writing utensils in their room… Anyway, I asked him why he removed his tape and half of his pants and in his half-sleep stupor, he informed me that he was too cold in these pajamas (he chose footless ones) and that he wanted to be so warm instead. He said “I need to be warm and have pajamas on my feet in case I go outside.” I told him it was 1 am and we had no plans of going outside just yet and he said “It’s okay, Mama. I go outside maybe later and my feet be warm.” After changing him into pajamas of his choice, singing the Paw Patrol theme song while doing so, I double checked that the doors were locked, alarm and sensors were on, and gates were up. He’s not going outside to play on my watch, even if his little feet are warm. I tucked him back into his bed (brother’s bed actually) and went back to my room when I heard him screaming “Joseph! Joseph! My feet are warm. Wake up and play outside now!” I ran back in there and encouraged him to leave his sleeping brother alone but that didn’t work out so well. For now, I’m hanging out with two little men, trying to get them to fall back asleep so they don’t wake everyone else up or destruct the house for hours tonight. Here’s to another round of Paw Patrol and a few blanket tents being built. Maybe I’ll be able to sleep in tomorrow… ha!

Taylor,

It is beyond my comprehension that you came into this world five years ago today. I still remember the look on Daddy’s face when he saw you and held you for the first time. I remember the weight and warmth of your tiny newborn body in my arms. I instantly felt like a Mom and immediately felt a bond with you like I have never experienced before. It was the best day of my life. I became a mom on November 7, 2011. I had a daughter. Through the last five years, you have kept us on our toes. You make sure your presence is known wherever you go, and you dazzle everyone around you with your beauty and your humor. You are easily the funniest person I know. You don’t know this, but even though you can be tough on me sometimes, you help me get through the toughest days. Everything I do is for you (and your brothers) and it is a privilege to be your mother. You are an amazing big sister, an adoring granddaughter and niece, a loyal and compassionate friend and an all around awesome human being.
You love having special alone time with Mommy and Daddy, even if it’s five minutes in the middle of the night when you get up to use the bathroom.

You have been, and might always be, obsessed with ponies. Rainbow Dash is your favorite, but you call Pinkie Pie the “Haywire one.”

You would probably eat pizza and mozzarella sticks every single day, if I let you.

You are obsessed with Ranger and you call him your baby. He loves you equally and you two are the best (and cutest) team.

You are fiercely independent, but still need (and want) us around, so thanks for that.

You have opinions on everything and you make sure everyone knows what they are.

Chocolate milk is your fuel. I recently introduced you to the beauty of KitKats and you love those too!

Your favorite color is red.

You want to be a doctor or a pony trainer when you grow up. Some days, you want to be a veterinarian.

Anything that has glitter or sparkles on it makes you light up.

You are so so smart. You learn and retain information so well; often times teaching Daddy and I a thing or two.

I hope you are always as carefree, strong-spirited and loving as you are today. I love you to the Moon and Back, my sweet girl. Happy 5th Birthday!

I have never been more proud of my daughter than I am today. She will be five years old next week, and is already so wise beyond her years that it isn’t even funny. She has a kind heart and a gentle soul and I am in awe of the person she is becoming.

We have had quite a few very cold mornings around here lately. After I strap the kids in their car seats, they each get a blanket on top of them and have their winter coats nearby for when we get out of the car. We don’t use coats in car seats because of safety issues, so we keep warm this way! As we were driving to school today, we naturally had to stop for a million school busses, kids crossing the road, school drop off lines, etc. Taylor always loves watching the kids walking inside the various schools we pass and comments about their outfit choices, backpacks, or the fun characters on their lunch boxes. As we were stopped waiting for a bus to pick up children, Taylor sighed heavily and sounded very upset. I asked her what was wrong and could see the concern on her face. She said “I’m just trying to figure out why that girl out there looks so sad. I think she’s shivering. Where’s her coat, Mommy?” Sure enough, there was probably an eight year old girl in the crosswalk who had her arms tightly wrapped around her body, clearly trying to stay warm. I took a mental note of the 40 degree temperature, thankful that it wasn’t even lower today, and drove on as I explained to Taylor that sadly, not all children have coats. She could not wrap her head around this concept and wanted to know why the girl didn’t remember to take her warm coat out of the closet before school this morning. I took the opportunity to discuss with Taylor that we are very fortunate to have the things we have, but not all people are that lucky and that yes, some people don’t even have coats to wear. This obviously made her very sad, but she understood. She said to me “Mommy, can we please go buy coats for all of the kids who don’t have one and give them mine that don’t fit me anymore?” Break my heart. She rattled off the names of some of her friends who have “lots of coats and warm blankets” at home and said her friends would want to help her get coats for other kids. So, before 8:30am and before having any coffee in my system, Taylor and I planned out a coat drive. Her little face lit up and she is so excited that this was her idea and that she will be helping other children. She can not wait to see how much she can collect for others. Her expectations are high, and we will support her in this however we can.

I have already been in contact with a woman at a local organization, who will gladly work with us through this collection, and am very eager to help Taylor with this. It makes me so proud to see her heart in the right place and to see her figuring out ways to take action. She’s a problem solver, as my mom always tells her, and she just means so well. If you are local and would like to donate coats or any winter gear (new or gently used) we have a drop off bin on our front steps already! If you would like to contribute a gift card that we will use to purchase new coats, we will gladly accept that too. I can be reached at twinsandtiaras@gmail.com with any questions! For my non-local followers, I’m sure there are lots of organizations closer to you that would love your coats as well. Please consider looking into it.

In honor of our birthday month, Taylor and I will be collecting coats, hats, scarves, etc. for the entire month of November. All sizes are welcome (infant through adult). Please help us help others and keep T’s beautiful spirit up. Thank you.

The boys had their three year old physicals this morning. It still feels weird to say that. Three years old. How did that even happen? It’s like I blinked and my tiny four pound preemies with health issues are these big strong boys now. It’s frightening and wonderful at the same time. As expected, the boys are perfectly healthy. I was told that I’m doing a great job with them, which is always wonderfully reassuring to hear. I am in my own head a lot and worry about the numbers, but their pediatrician says they are perfect. They might always be on the smaller side, but that’s just who they are and since they are growing on their own preemie curve and gaining weight appropriately, he has zero concerns. They are the same size as an average two year old, which is a little bizarre, but as long as they are healthy, I’m okay with it! They did very well with their vaccinations and examination. They were actually really well behaved. Although, when the pediatrician was discussing our status on toilet training, Joseph contorted his face into some weird shapes and turned eleven shades of red. I asked him if he needed to poop, but before the words could even come out of my mouth, the stench permeated the exam room. I had to do a quick change and have the lovely nurses dispose of the bomb-diaper outside. I guess he just wanted his stance on the subject known to all.

I took them out for a special date when we were finished. We went to a donut shop where the boys each asked for a “Nemo donut.” Thankfully, the people there obliged and gave them the orange donut with sprinkles without batting an eye at their request. Whatever keeps them happy. They split a chocolate milk and as they were enjoying their snack, we had a chat with an older gentleman who was also a fraternal twin. He assured the boys that they had a lifetime of chocolate milk sharing left to go.

When we got to school to pick up Taylor this afternoon, the boys were all sugared-up and ready to go. I should have known what was coming. As I was signing her out, all of the lights in the entire main area of the school, including the hallways, turned off. I thought that was a bit peculiar and as soon as I heard the fit of giggles, I knew why. The boys found the main switch and decided to go with mood lighting for the school. Fantastic. They didn’t stop their fun there, either. I got three kids in the car and buckled up. I stepped out of the back seat of the car and shut the door, only to find that my keys were missing from my pocket. Not only were they missing, but I happened to look through the window just in time to see Jackson grab them out of his own hoodie pocket. He pick pocketed me! Little weasel. I have never been more thankful for the keyless entry feature on my car. I was not in the mood to wait for roadside assistance, or the cops, today!

Nap time was mostly a bust today. The boys are pretty uncomfortable because of their shots, and they just didn’t want to / couldn’t relax. It didn’t help that they took turns crapping their pants. Each time I went in to check on them, one of them would be standing off to the side holding his own nose, telling me that the room was stinky. I am hoping that with some Motrin, they will be comfortable enough to sleep through the night tonight.

Also, this handsome fellow has a procedure that requires anesthesia tomorrow and Mommy is a nervous wreck, even though I know he’s going to be in great hands. Please keep us in your thoughts!

Happy Halloween! Okay, I might be a day late, but there was a lot of candy that needed to be examined… Right. That’s what I’m going with. Yesterday was one of those magical days that, again, makes being a parent worth every moment of sleeplessness. The night before, the boys were truly awful and were awake from 12:45am until around 5am. They weren’t even playing nicely. They were being destructive and woke all of us up. I had a feeling Halloween would be terrible because of this, but although we are still a bit sleepy, it was just perfect.

The boys are obsessed with dogs, so even though they were Dalmatians last year, they went as brown dogs this year. They thought they looked just like Ranger! I found their costumes on a Moms of Multiples resale page, saving me at least $40, so that was huge. I think they were adorable, and they kept the kids warm without needing coats last night, which was another added bonus. I have this gigantic basket sitting in my garage. It was used for one of my baby or wedding showers and has just remained there since. I had the idea to stick the kids in a basket with a “Puppies for Sale” sign earlier in the morning, but didn’t know if it would be more work than it was worth. I decided to go with it and do a mini photo shoot and I am so glad I did. It was so very well received. I got lots of compliments and the pictures of the boys and Ranger in the basket are definitely some of my all time favorites. They perfected their puppy panting faces too!

Taylor had a small parade at her school. Each of the classes made their own costumes, and her class was a bunch of Hula dancers. They even made their own ukuleles, which were adorable. They marched through the school, sang some Halloween songs and were generally adorable. She was quite proud of herself and the hard work she put into her school costume.

For trick or treating, Taylor decided to be a witch. She was dead-set on being creepy and scary and was threatening to turn her brothers into toads, rocks, and snakes. As soon as she put on that dress, it was like she transformed into a grown up. There was not one bit of creepiness on that girl, and she looked too gorgeous to be scary at all! She loved her dress and had so much fun wearing it.

We kept on with our tradition of trick or treating with some of our best friends and neighbors. We now have six kids amongst the two families and it is always so much fun. The kids adore each other and were so respectful of each other. We had a bunch of falling down episodes from costume malfunctions, where candy was strewn about the street. Each kid stopped, helped collect the candy for their friend, and waited as they got re-situated. They took turns ringing the door bells (a huge deal when you are five and under) and just had such a fun time. Watching them all interact with each other and the neighbors they visited was magical. Their faces were innocent and full of happiness and it made it all worth it for me.

We had to remind Taylor not to read too much into what she was getting in her treat bag. We got to a few houses where she politely said Trick or Treat and Happy Halloween, but then she would dig through their candy bowl examining things and saying “Is this healthy?” Nothing about Halloween is healthy, my sweet girl. Jackson had no problem grabbing fistfuls of candy when prompted and actually ate a few pieces with the wrappers still on, as we were walking around the block. Joseph was naturally very methodical about everything he did. He was on a mission and tried to collect only candy pieces that were wrapped in blue. We got to one house and he looked in the bowl, looked at me, and with the saddest little face said “Mommy. There’s no blue for me here. I really like blue.” I quickly explained that it was okay and he didn’t need everything to be blue, but our neighbor felt badly and dug through and found him a Rice Krispie treat (blue wrapper) and handed it to him. He literally cheered out loud and then began kissing the small blue wrapped treat. These kids do have the tendency to be adorable sometimes.

Jackson gave us a bit of an issue at bedtime and took a while to go down. Taylor was up way more times than I would have liked throughout the night, but all in all, it was a good night. We had a bit of a rough morning. Taylor couldn’t get enough carbs and required both cereal and extra toast this morning, probably to counteract the sugar. As I was brushing and braiding her hair this morning, I noticed a weird clumpy texture. She may or may not have somehow gotten half of what looked like a chewed tootsie pop matted in her hair — and then slept on it. Whoops. I did what I could and sent her off to school. I’m hoping the chlorine from swimming will help wash some of it out before I get my hands back on her tonight. The poor girl didn’t even want to get out of the cozy comfort of her car seat this morning. We all survived though, and the kids can’t wait until next Halloween!