there were never such devoted sisters.

My girls have been fighting a lot lately. Like, A LOT. I guess I kind of get it…for three and a half years they have done everything together. It all started when they were conceived at the same time. Kind of crazy if you let yourself think about it. Two eggs? Both fertilized? Are you kidding me?

Then when they came out, they had to share us and the attention. No sooner would I be gazing into one pair of dark eyes than the other one would need something.

They still take baths together. Here’s a shot from before they could even sit up on their own. Glad those days are over.


They shared a crib when they first came home from the hospital…until they started rolling over. It didn’t matter how far apart we placed them, they always seemed to find each other by the morning.


They still have never spent one night apart. And they are getting on each others nerves. And that gets on my nerves.

It also makes me think of my own sister. She is almost four years older than I am. Funny how back then, those almost-four-years meant I thought braces were cool and I was a tag-a-long and she got to do everything and she basically hung the moon.

Yeah. She’s the one with the cool braces. I’m the…other one.

I just saw her last weekend. Seeing her reminded me to remember to miss her. And missing her I am. I don’t like my town as much without her in it. And it makes me think about my girls and how they are together almost too much…but how when they grow up, they won’t be.

Our almost-four-year age difference is pretty insignificant now. I know better than to think braces are cool and we do things together now rather than me tagging along. One thing hasn’t changed, though…I pretty much still think she hung the moon.


You didn’t seriously think I could end with that last picture, did you?

plotlines in my life

Tonight our oldest twin tearfully refused a bath for fear that her “fingernails might come off”. They were freshly painted yesterday by her Nanny…I knew what she meant. You have to pick your battles. These days, it seems I’m losing the ones I pick but whatever. She’s asleep now…dirty hair; fingernails intact.

Now that they are all sleeping (husband included), I thought I’d take a moment and offer a few updates.

I talked with the bride. Turns out she’s a really gracious and forgiving person. Good thing. I guess I already knew that, but it’s still a relief to have talked with her and offer my appropriate apologies for my lack of…well, just for my lack. I’d post a photo from her wedding here, but I wasn’t there. So this is me. Moving on. Starting now.

The movie we were waiting for? Well, it came. They were scared of the Beast, but held out hope until he turned nice. And we had a real movie night (or day, really). It is so refreshing to watch something other than Dora. I was pleased to discover I remembered so many of the songs after 15 years or so. Two girls weren’t so pleased. I think “Shhhh, Mommy. We can’t hear” was the exact phrase. At least it’s in English.

And then there is my daily struggle with Good Mom. If only she would disappear into the archives like that blog post did. But she doesn’t. Instead she hovers, lingering in my days the same way the smell of a dirty diaper lingers in the room after it has been taken to the trashcan outside. She weaves her way into my thoughts and leaves me feeling helpless to ever becoming more like her. Turns out Good Mom may be a good mom, but she isn’t a very good friend.

I remember the words the Lord speaks to me, gentle and true. He brings life and hope and clarity.

And He doesn’t hover. I like that.

returning to thursday nights


Coming home from school was always a part of the day I looked forward to when I was a kid. I remember sitting in my first grade classroom at the end of the day and hearing the big orange-yellow buses pull up in front of the school…lining up in predictable order to take us home. There seemed to be at least a small bit of excitement about going home every afternoon. There was sure to be Mom who would always have some type of snack for us. There was also another aspect to the after school routine at our house…TBS.

Every afternoon at 4:05, reruns of The Brady Bunch aired on TBS. (Remember when TBS did everything on the five?) Except I’m not sure if I knew at the time that they were reruns. Thus began my association of comfort and safety with a TV show. Shameful, I know.

It wasn’t until years later that I became so hooked on another show. Not that I didn’t watch TV during all those years…but I don’t remember another show I really attached memories to like I did The Brady Bunch. Until the spring of 2002 when The Man and I began to watch the end of season 4 of Survivor with my sister and brother-in-law. It wasn’t so much the show itself at that time. It was the fact that my sister and I now lived in the same town (which hadn’t been true since I was in high school). And now we had a night, Thursday nights. That was our night…to hang out, eat dinner together, play with our nephews, and after they were tucked in, to turn on CBS and watch random people outwit, outplay, outlast.

We watched several seasons on Thursday nights together, until one particular Thursday afternoon I took a pregnancy test that turned out to be positive and 9 months (or so) later, we had twins. Evening outings became a thing of the past and our Thursday nights with my sister became Thursday nights at home. Watching Survivor, just the 2 of us…well, it wasn’t the same. And so we stopped.

Thanks be to a certain female contestant on Survivor China premiering tonight for resurrecting our desire to watch. She happens to be a co-worker and friend of my parents. So I’m making a chocolate chip pie and inviting friends over to watch not-so-random people outwit, outplay, outlast.

It won’t be the same as it once was…the glory days of the early seasons with my family. But it will be fun to have someone to cheer for.

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