An Extraordinary Day

Today, an extraordinary event happened: Caedance, my own little touch-me-not, just crawled up on my lap for a cuddle. I didn't have to chase her. I didn't have to coax her. Nor did a bribe have to be uttered (or an ultimatum for that matter). Just a sweet little girl, still little enough to know it IS in fact cool to climb up on your mama's lap for a snuggle. You are never too old for that.

And so I find myself gathering moments like these; precious and few. Hording them in the recess of my mind, diligently storing them where I can retrieve them later. My heart still catches a bit when I think of them being 6. All too soon, 6 will turn to 7, which will inevitably lead to 8. And from 8, well, it's not more than a breath away before The Kraken (else wise known as Hormones) will be released. At that point, perhaps my little gifts will not recognize me, or perhaps I won't recognize them; either way, the relationship will bend and change, prayerfully for the better.

I love every moment of the Present that we've been blessed with. Each new activity and new ability. Each shared thought and each stored memory. It's all golden. Every bit of it. But I still have a small garden of Past that I tend personally; keeping each bit of planted fragility cared for and watched over. On days when my little sweet wonders don't visit me for a cuddle, I visit my garden of memories to remember the days when one or both of them were constantly in my arms.

And even as they grow up and become more and more the women we continue to pray that they'll be; developing flowers that are beautiful in every way, I cherish the memories we've made and the memories yet to be made. And I'm forever thankful for each and every single day we have. Each and every one.

Happy Birthday!

I'm sitting on the couch in the living room, shrouded by memories of a very different night, 6 years ago. October 13, 2004 found me in a hospital bed. Waiting. I'd been doing a lot of that by that time: waiting. I was 34 weeks pregnant. Had pre-eclampsia, and was daily adding more symptoms to my list of slowly spreading damage being done by it.

My pregnancy with the girls was not easy. My blood pressure was the first traitor to Team Amanda. Before the end of my first trimester, I was on blood pressure meds to keep it to a reasonable level, which was high regardless. Next came issues with the girls. First it appeared that both had Downs Syndrome, which led to several weeks of waiting. When that panned out to be untrue, we spent 3 terrifying months unsure if they were conjoined, in which case we faced a very dangerous pregnancy & delivery indeed. When they were finally deemed "separate", it was then decided that they were in the same sack (mono amniotic/mono chorionic or mo-mo twins), which was presented to us in a  package neatly delivered with a 50% fetal mortality rate. On one or both babies. Several more weeks of near constant fetal monitoring brought us up to my 26th birthday. I got the best gift ever when they finally saw the world's thinnest membrane separating the sacks; they were not mo-mo twins. BUT (yes, that's right, there's more!), they did seem to show inconsistencies in growth in relation to each other, which put us at risk of Twin-To-Twin-Transfusion-Syndrome (TTTS). Several more weeks of monitoring were spent making sure that the structure of each umbilical cord was correct, and was sending nutrients to each girl equally. (In the end, we were fortunate not to have had any issues with TTTS. It's an incredibly dangerous and potentially fatal condition for the multiples that experience it).
All THAT having been navigated, things started "calming down" around 28 weeks. Sure, my blood pressure was still sky high (on meds),but after that obstacle course, I could handle it. Picture my frame of mind; after months of near constant worry about very legitimate and real problems, my girls had finally been cleared. We were on our way. My only task was to get to the magical 37 weeks and I'd be home free.
And then I went into pre-term labor. At 30 weeks. Thankfully, I was at one of my still several-time-weekly check ups when they saw the contractions that I didn't realize I was having. 5 days in the hospital and a new-found hatred of the demon that is "Magnesium Sulfate" later and I was back at home. Contraction free and sequestered to the couch. But I still had my freedom. Ha! They couldn't take that away from me! No more injustices could be done, AND I got to wear my underwear. So that THAT, hospital.
Exactly 30 hours later I was being wheeled right back into that place. This time to the Perinatal ward, which would be my home for the unforeseen future. It was there that I was diagnosed with Pre-eclampsia. My blood pressure continued to spike. I was on 6 large dose pills a day. I was spilling proteins like a float throwing candy at a parade. Every single joint in my body was filled with fluid. I had fluid accumulating around my spine and in my neck. Every day my coloring got a bit grayer and I felt a lot sicker. Sick from the inside. And somehow I was still supposed to grow these babies and keep them safe in an environment that was becoming more and more toxic.
After biding my time in the hospital bed, October 13th rolled around. Cue water break. Enter Labor. (Call for the epidural! Hey, I made it to 5cm before I went for the drugs). A nice night of sleeping. (Sigh. Thank you blessed drugs). 
On October 14th, 2004, my life changed. For the better. 
At 8:29am Caedance appeared, followed by Ashlyn at 8:36. I wish I could say that it was an easy delivery with no complications, but that would be a lie. I'll save THAT story for another entry though. Too many words have already been written.
My life has been made better by these two precious creatures that I call my own. They are constant blessings that I have the joy of counting every day. 

Happy Birthday, Ashlyn & Caedance!

Making Way For Autumn.

It's fall. Did I mention that I love fall? Because I do. I love it. Goodbye heavy, humid air of summer; hello crisp, clear air of Autumn. There's something bright and wonderful about a day that smells like coloring leaves. See ya next year, Chlorophyll.

 Some have said that the Fall is a season of dying, followed by a winter-long look at death, but I don't see it that way. To me, Fall is a reminder of God's awesome ability to wipe the slate clean. Slowly. With style. There's nothing "sudden" about Fall. It's an entire season of false starts and stops. Yesterday is 65, today is 90. Oh, Fall; you fickle thing. Leaves that were verdant green yesterday are tinged with yellow today. What could be more profound that driving through a wooded lane guarded by blushing trees?

Each season has its own unique smell, and I think the scent belonging to Fall may be my favorite. Words to describe it? Crisp. Clear. Woodsmoke. Apple. Corn husk. Change. Golden. God chooses to light Autumn with the flare of an expert light-technician. Do you ever notice the perfect slant of the sunlight? It's just enough to brighten the foliage of the trees while still allowing them to glow all on their own. And is there anything more breathtaking that viewing a darkened sky spotlighted by a setting sun? Or the horizon awash with hues of melon, blush, aubergine, over top a picture-perfect treeline done in charcoal?

I love the way Autumn arrives just as Summer takes a final bow; working together they ease the changing scene. Perfect segue partners. The brutish Winter could take some lessons from this graceful pas de deux. Instead it cuts in quickly, knocking off days or even weeks from Autumn's full schedule; cutting short the last days of a beautiful season. A still frame; yellow leaves frozen to branches; piles of colorful foliage gone brown under an early snow. Suddenly Winter.

I love this season. The bright days. The gray ones. The crisp air. The damp air. The way everything just declares itself; Fall. It may be too short for my liking, but I'm enjoying every day we have of it. Windows open. Sweatshirt on. In the woods or in a meadow. Hello, Autumn. Good to see you again, friend.

A day at a time....

Every day when I go to pick the girls up from school, I find myself holding my breath, waiting for what may come. Will it be a good day with two shining, smiling faces racing to the door to greet me? Or will there be tears of disappointment and negative notes in the folder? I know they are trying so hard to be good students, but the process of adjusting to this new role has been an arduous one for them. Some days are good. Some days are bad.

Today was a good day.

Actually, today was a really good day. First off came the smiling faces, eager to tell me that they'd had a good day. A good start. Second, when we got into the car and I checked the folders, there were no negative notes. No misbehavior noted, mis-focus reported. We were on a roll. We got home and the girls set to work on completing their homework: cutting out square pictures and gluing the ones that held a picture of something that started with 'S' to a Seal; and cutting out letters of the alphabet that will be used in class to make an alphabet snake. When I saw the amount of cutting involved, I inwardly groaned and readied myself for a long afternoon. Generally, the girls are not coordinated with scissors, holding them awkwardly and without much success. It takes them forever to get through even a small amount of cutting, and the end results are tenuous at best.

Imagine my surprise, then, when they were finished with all their cutting work in 15 minutes. Moreover, the items they cut were actually nicely done, albeit it a bit misshapen in places. Still, I was impressed. I was further amazed when they asked to practice writing the letter S. On their own. I got them our lined paper and they set to work. I was prepared to help them out, as I always do, but today they grabbed the pencil and got to work on their own. Pencils held in a far more confident grasp, making the motions on the paper. The result was some pretty great looking letters done by two girls who just months ago could barely even hold a pencil, let alone form a letter legibly. Color me impressed to the nth degree.

They've got a long way to go. I know that. But the excitement for me is in seeing the success they're having with the initial steps were making now. I can only imagine how much greater their strides will be with the tutoring they'll be getting. There is comfort in seeing them overcome some of this on their own though. It makes me realize that these struggles will not hinder them for long. They'll come through this and emerge on the other side as two kick ass students ready to blow expectations out of the water. I'm ready for that day. They're already starting to do it now. :)

Kindergarten Woes

No parent wants to hear that there is something "wrong" with their child. No one wants to think that anything about that precious gift could be amiss in any way. You find yourself looking at them, wondering how you could have "missed" it. Since it's been so terribly off for such a long time, apparently.

Today I received a call to set up our first meeting with the teacher, OT & Speech Pathologist, and principal. We'll be discussing what test results have been gathered and what these results show for the girls. My job during this meeting will be to sit and listen, and try very hard not to take what they're saying as anything other than helpful advice to get the girls on track for success in school. Currently, my brain is torn between being grateful for early detection, and wondering how much of their "issues" stem from being in school for only 2 short weeks and still being unsure about it.

I wasn't surprised when they told me the girls would need to be evaluated for fine motor skills. They made it clear at a very early age that they do not like doing anything that involves those skills. They always hated coloring. Painting. Drawing. Playing board games. All of it. I realized that this would be a problem, so I began using every trick in my teacher's brain to get them interested. To make it fun. Shaving cream. Pudding Paint! Water works. Chalkboards. Dry erase boards. PlayDoh. All of it. And none of it established any sort of real interest. Everyday I declared a "Mommy's Choice" activity time, in hopes of getting them to focus and practice at the same time. My choices were usually worksheets, or cutting and gluing activities. The girls would respond by crying. "Mommy, I don't want to color!" or "It hurts my hand!". We pushed through the tears, and I think we made a lot of progress. Both girls were writing their names by this past May (something they'd never been able to do), and even began writing words and drawing a lot more on the chalkboards without being asked to. But pencil/paper work still makes them struggle.
I'm glad for the extra help they'll be getting with this, and hoping their OT will have better luck getting them to strengthen their hand muscles and make writing easier.

The speech therapy came out of the blue for me. I didn't know there was any concern until their teacher asked if I'd spoken to the Speech Pathologist yet. I wasn't sure what the issue could be, and was hoping it wasn't some aspect of their speech that is a holdover from their years of speaking Twinese. (I'm very protective of their twin language. They don't speak it much anymore, but vestiges of it still remain, and I'd like to keep it that way for as long as possible. Call me crazy. But that's just the way it is.)The issue, it would seem, lies in their reluctance to make eye contact or have a conversation. At home, they do both and they do it well. Ashlyn in particular has become quite the chatter-bug, talking up a storm and constantly looking at us to make sure she's got our full attention. Caedance, our quiet "Observer" has even gotten more talkative. Both have shown a lot of improvement since they've started school. But that's at home. I do know that they are not likely to speak with someone they don't know, even in the "safety zone" of school. I know that they are very used to having strangers come up to them, but are reluctant to speak to them, let alone hold a conversation. A big part of me doesn't see this as a particularly fair assessment of their abilities. I mean, I'm really glad the school is getting on the ball and picking out needs to get the kids up to speed, but in the first few weeks of school, isn't it a bit normal for a student (in a very new environment) to need a little time to sort out her surroundings and work out her place in it? It makes me sad that the expectations of Kindergarten have changed so much that children must be quickly guided into the proper channels rather than giving them any sort of time to independently sort through things on their own. This is the new system though.

So our meeting will be set up and a plan will be created. The fact that the girls need some extra help doesn't bother me. Not at all. I guess my only "issue" is the timing. Seeing so much improvement on our side gives me a feeling that they are heading in the right direction. But I don't want them to struggle. They are both smart and able. And can be quick learners when the mood strikes them. I want them to succeed, so I guess this will be the first step towards that.

We'll see.

ARRRGGGGHHHHHHH!!!

I'm looking for the Do-Over button on today. It's gotta be here somewhere.....
If not a Do-Over, than perhaps a mind eraser? That would work too.

I missed out on a huge opportunity today. It wasn't an opportunity to make money or obtain something new; but a chance to show calmness in the face of pure and utter frustration. And I blew it. Big time.

When the girls came home from school today, I was dismayed to see some rather unwelcome "behavior" issues with Ashlyn. Being only the 7th day of school, it was both disappointing and a bit upsetting. This is a first for me. I've always been the on the note writing side of the fence, so being the receiver of such a notification was both unpleasant and uncool. (My sincere apologies to my past classroom parents on notes sent home. I hope you took it all with a grain of salt.) I definitely want my children to behave well in class. Rules are there to protect everyone, and they need to be followed. I am a stickler for that in our house too. Break a rule, lose a privilege.

The particular offenses today were of the "Lack Of Attention" variety. In my book,this goes right along with two main features of the girls: they're 5 and they're in Kindergarten. These two reckonings go hand in hand, if you ask me. I would be surprised if their focus didn't wander from time to time. In this case, Ashlyn wasn't participating during seat work, and then later she didn't participate in small group work. Both worksheets were sent home to me. Allowing me a moment to vent, please bear with me, neither worksheet was something I would (in my teaching experience) classify as group work or really, 2nd week Kindergarten stuff. Firstly, they were both multi-sectioned things in which the student was expected to switch mental gears a bit from activity to activity. Secondly, it mixed more complex elements (like naming the letter that comes before the listed letters in one section, and writing the answer in upper case). Hey...make my kid think. Challenge her. Absolutely. I want her to stretch her brain. BUT.....but.....can it really surprise anyone that a 5 year old might have some trouble sitting still and trying to stay on task when it was easy to become lost in the many facets of this one worksheet?

That being said (and as I said, that's my vent moment), expectations are expectations. So I worked through each sheet with Ashlyn, who bemoaned the entire long duration of it. During this time, I lost my patience a few times. (It was so hard not to when I was trying to get her to work through some of the more difficult concepts on the worksheets and Caedance was nearby goofing off rather than working on her tasks). In the end, I did get her through both sheets. And we then spent time talking about how school work is not a choice she can make, and when she's in class, she'll do what her teacher asks her to do. Period. Not decide that the worksheet is for the birds and draw mice instead.

Looking back on it, I wish I had handled it better. Truth be told, we're still trying to get into a smooth rhythm with all this. Doing homework every day is a bit new for me, and I'm finding it a challenge to work with both of them simultaneously when they both have unique needs with things. Working with them separate is the best way to handle things, but keeping the other on task is sometimes hard. Because they've never had to do it. Because they've never been in this situation. So we've got a learning curve going on. All of us. They've got their hands full acclimating to this totally new environment of school with a new set of rules and expected behaviors. And I've got my hands full working through the mechanics of it all; meeting each of their needs so that they can use the homework to help them...not just waste our time.

We'll get there. I know. I knew there would be an adjustment period. But somewhere in the back of my mind I still hoped that it would go so much smoother than this. I was subconsciously hoping that mine wouldn't the students drawing mice during lesson times. But...alas....mine were the children squeaking at the principal during registration, so why wouldn't they be the mouse drawers in class?

The Invention Of Standing In Line

Every morning the students at Franklin Elementary are supposed to stand in line and wait until they are called to go into school. Line by line. Class by class. I am one of many parents who feel the need to watch over this process, making sure that my children are able to follow the "Stand In Line" protocol. What I have found is that when you're 5 "Standing In Line" can mean many different things.

For example, to "Stand In Line" may mean hopping vigorously up and down as fast as you possibly can. Standing in line my also mean whacking your brother ceremoniously about the head as many times as you can before you get caught. (There is a set of twin brothers in the girls class). And then again, standing in line may look curiously like skipping around your comrades, choosing to sample the view from any number of other lines before alighting back to your own.

For Ashlyn and Caedance, the definition of Line is blurry. This week I observed the fact that they will not stand front to back of each other. They will only stand side to side. School policies aside, (and I am a big supporter of walking nicely in a single file line), this has actually tugged at my heart strings a bit. At first I was annoyed, thinking "WHY can't they stand correctly? What is so hard about this?" I found myself walking up to them, pulling one behind the other and holding up a hand that clearly read, "Stay". I'd look on in absolute dismay as the other students stood in a beautiful straight line (after the aforementioned line-dissenters were corrected), and mine continued to stand in stony, resolute silence; side by side.

After dropping them off today, I got to thinking about the whole Side-By-Side thing and a light bulb lit up inside my head. PING! (That's the sound of a light bulb going on in my head, mind you). They weren't being deliberately disobedient. Nor were they ignoring directions. Rather, they were facing the situation in the way they know best; in the ONLY way the know, really. Together. Shoulder to shoulder, as one. Every single aspect of their lives thus far has been joined. They've done everything together both by choice and by circumstance. I've been amazed many times at their lack the word "I" and the constant repetition of "We". They are a unit. They think of themselves as such. And to those who may cry foul and decree that my children do not have a sense of self-identity and independence, may I kindly say you are quite wrong. They are quite independent of each other. I think, I truly do, that theirs is a twinship that is very delicately intertwined. It's not a co-dependency at all. I think they do genuinely feel connected to each other and it's that connection that allows them each to be independent and to go out and explore and try new things.

It's a process that works for them and has helped them blossom into the unique and slightly quirky little sprites that they are. I appreciate that greatly and have no desire to change it. However, there are rules in school, so we'll be working on the line up thing. But at least I have a better understanding now of why they're doing what they do. A bit of an insight into something I thought was simply misbehavior, but I now see was actually just yet another glimpse into a bond that I'll never truly understand.