Things I learned while visiting my mom with the kids (without my darling husband)

In car DVD players are God's gift to parents.

GPSs and pacifiers are tied for a close second.

It is not a good sign when you're 15 minutes in to a 3.5 hour drive and one of the children says "want get out!"

It is possible to evade the husband's ban on no more artsy bowls by having your mother give them to you when you arrive at the house.

The same technique is possible when shopping at a craft show with a very small budget.

It is a good thing that our television is behind closed doors, and only opened occasionally.

It is also a very good thing that our videos and cd are under lock and key.

My mother is extremely tolerant of small monsters tearing apart her house, as long as there's clean up time at the end of the day.

Ilan is ready to move to a bed. Nadav will be ready when he's 20 and there is a deadbolt on the door.

I need to carpet their floor or lay down a rug before I move them to beds.

Miss Audrey looks absolutely fantastic. Mr. Bill is awesome as always. Pete and Jack are respectful sweet boys who love my mother. Which I love.

Ilan is a mutant who won't eat pizza or ice cream.

Gavriel is a mutant who won't eat anything besides pizza or ice cream.

Nadav will eat anything.

I need to invest in sugar pills so when the twins demand "medicine" at 5am I have something to give them besides Motrin and feeling extremely guilty for drugging them for no good reason other than my sleep deprivation.

Gavriel is ridiculously cute when he's co-sleeping as long as it's in a king size bed. He's also ridiculously cute when he gets a new stuffed animal. Even if it's not the one I would have picked. And he thinks it's hilarious that I woke him in the nighttime to change him and he has no memory of the event.

All of my children adore candy, books, and Bubby. Especially Bubby.

Miracles are possible when you have your mother behind you.

Five years ago if you told me that this weekend I would take my three children under 6 for a road trip to Maryland, have the two small ones stay in beds for the first time, stay there with my mom until Monday, loaded up the car and driven home alone, I would have looked at you in disbelief. Then I would have laughed until I cried.

Miracles can happen. With help from mom who gutted the junk room and made a wonderful bedroom for the twins, not to mention changed diapers all weekend, good friends who packed up most of the trunk, and three really awesome kids. They really can happen.

Maybe he's really 4 or 5?

These are the things I heard from Ilan tonight:

When picking him up at day care: "I want to say goodbye now"

When I drop a tissue next to the garbage can: "oh no, what happened?"

When I tripped over my shoes: "Ima, are you okay?"

While watching Superman try to save Krypton: "Ima, he's scared. Ima, he's funny! Ima, he's superman!"

Did I mention he won't take off the Abraham Lincoln hat?

Motherhood is hard as hell.

And I can say hell, because I'm a mommy and we get special dispensation.

It's freaking hard on the best of days. Relentless, all-encompassing, all-consuming. Unlike the idyllic portrayal of pregnancy and motherhood in the media, the invasion doesn't stay limited to our uterus, but quickly expands to affect all parts of our body. Our breasts are no longer our own. I suddenly needed glasses for the rest of my life. Although my feet never swelled in pregnancy, I went up half a shoe size when it was all over. In my case my back was so strained I couldn't bear the weight of a baby more than once. Things no one tells you about, and you never hear about in the cute pregnancy movie.

And then motherhood arrives, and it's even worse. We're already weakened from carrying a huge load for nine months, and we suddenly have a parasite attached to us 24/7. Only in this case the parasite screams, and demands, and bewilders. And thankfully continues to grow, and learns to smile, and sleeps once in a blue moon. But as it grows, the demands on us grow as well. Mobility. Speech. Appetite. Cogent thought. And we, the mothers, can barely catch our breath. Suddenly saddled not only with the physical well-being of another person, but also the emotional and spiritual well-being, it's no wonder I have trouble sleeping some nights, wondering if I made the right call during the playdate, if I said the right thing when my son was struggling, praying for wisdom the next time a hard question comes my way.

It's no wonder that mothers worldwide take a deep sigh of relief on Monday morning. The rest of the world goes to work, and we have finally have a moment to shower. To go to the bathroom alone. Perhaps even for a cup of coffee. And these are the mothers who are blessed to work only inside the home, those who leave to go to another job keep running without even that moment.

Yes, it's hard as hell. So is being president of the united states. But I bet Barack Obama wouldn't give up his job even on the hardest of days.

Neither would I.

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Take a look at my friend Liz's blog this week. www.damomma.com She makes a remarkable statement to struggling mothers everywhere. Read it. If that's you, and I freely admit that some days it's me, read it. Read the comments. And know that you are not alone. It is the hardest job no one will ever pay you for. It is relentless. It is demanding. And wonderful. So so wonderful.

Let's play guess the bed!

I'm sure you can do it. Of course, the fact that one is a bed, and the other two are cribs is a give-away, but I bet you can tell the difference anyways.

Just to help out:

A. Exhibit A has a super light blanket for a sweaty sleeper. Mounds and mounds of stuffed animals thrown together haphazardly, some absconded from big brother, some from Ima and Abba. Roughly a dozen pacifiers and no fewer than three loveys are hidden under the piles.

B. Exhibit B has a dozen webkinz and assorted stuffed animals lined up neatly along the side of the bed. Ima shirt #1 is laid neatly across the pillow, topped by Ima shirt #2, topped by green snuggly, topped by lovey begged for when brothers received similar. At least two books in the bed, probably 5 or more under the covers hiding. The animal lineup changes, but the pillow contents never vary without causing undue distress.

C. Exhibit C is a warm snuggly fleece blanket, accompanied by a single pacifier, Cookie Monster, and Grover, laid out waiting for a hand to snuggle them when said occupant lays down the same way each night.

I know you can do it.

Dontcha just love all those behavioral psychologists who claim that if only we raised them all the same way, they'd all be identical?

I'm just the chauffeur and the cook!

I knew independence was going to happen, I just didn't think it would happen so quickly!

I grew up with my mother talking about the craziness of multiple carpools, and the driving around, cooking big meals for us every day, and her joking how she was the chauffeur, the cook, and the maid. I never meant to make her feel like that, but the truth is, kids are pretty needy, and so I suppose it happened regardless of our intentions or level of gratitude. We reach that level of independence all too quickly where we depend on our parents more for practical matters and less for wisdom and guidance. Of course I hope that they will always welcome my teachings and direction, but I also know that at a certain point they will want to spread their wings without me. Or at least, without me hanging on too tight.

I always figured I had more time before I get to that stage. After all, the twins are only two, they are still pretty dependant on us. And even Gavriel needs us.

Doesn't he?

Fast forward to bathtime last night, where my darling husband was supervising the twins in the bath. Keeping them from going under, or whacking each other with the rubber duckies. All of a sudden I overhear from the bedroom...

Nadav: Why?
Ilan: Because!
Nadav: Why?
Ilan: Because!
Nadav: Why?
Ilan: Because!

This went on for a LONG time.

Raising twins has always been an adventure. Challenging on the best of days, and all encompassing and exhausting on the hard ones. And while I was laughing over this conversation, and grinning at Ari, I was also marveling at the independence that having a twin provides. They have each other to be there for one another, to answer those eternal "whys?" They always will. I just hope they let us guide them once in a while. Or at least let us in on the joke.

postscript.

Overheard from the adult Lowells in the house.

Ari:
"I'm moving to a deserted Island. Alone. You can't come with me and I'm not leaving a forwarding address." (as Ilan is screaming at 3am)
"I'm buying cake. And eating the entire thing alone." (as Ilan is screaming for chicken during dinner)
"Where is the eject button?" (as Ilan is screaming in the car)

Shana:
"Um Ari, I have this really important, um, conference, yeah, a conference I need to go to, so I will be gone from tomorrow until next Thursday. Don't worry, I'll get a sitter for an hour or two. BYE!"
"Ari love, if I make the shabbat chicken will you do Friday carpool for me?"
"Um Ari, can you do the chicken?" (only after he gets home from carpool...)

Both of us:
"No! We don't want to be superheroes again, Gavriel!"
"Did Ilan just say what we think he said?"
"Oh #$%^, where's Nadav? It's too quiet in this house. Go search all the bathrooms, electronics, and outside doors."

Yes, my friends. They can open doors now. Be on the lookout on Revere and Windsor for little legs running. We are in SUCH trouble, and calling the locksmith in the morning.

Overheard in the Lowell home...

Gavriel:
"Ima, maybe Hashem ate my extra missing candy and was punishing me for something I did wrong" (Yes, we talked about how Hashem doesn't punish little boys)
"Ima, I want to help you, I want to do mitzvot and be a tzadik"
"Ima, I think we should stop for a slurpee. And candy. And maybe another snack. Ima, can I have chocolate milk when we get home?"
"Ima, I voted for chocolate. You could vote for chocolate or twizzlers. It was election day Ima."

Ilan:
"Get out of my way"
"me do it!"
"me want dinner, me want chicken now"
"me want something else" (in middle of night, demanding an extra stuffed animal in the crib)
"Dav!" (when asked by Ari in the morning who should be changed first)
"me want more cookies please!"
"dav hit me! he hit me!"
"you okay Ima?" (asked me after I tripped)

Nadav:
"more please!"
"my shoes"
"me too!"
"me fun!"
"hop pop!" (read hop on hop Gavriel!)

It may not seem like a lot from Nadav, but some of those sounds are brand new, and we are extremely proud of him trying so hard to speak. As for the other two, well, Ilan clearly is making his wishes known on a daily basis, and is often looking out for others, especially Nadav. Gavriel is doing great in first grade, and continues to grapple with our teachings, our religion, and the modern world we live in. Man, we're busy, we're tired, but we're having fun too. At least once or twice a day Ari and I just glance at each other, saying with our eyes, yes, they're totally nuts and drive us crazy, but they are so cute and sweet too.

Well, in daylight, at least.

Better than nothing, so no griping!

Random yet important

Please forgive the mish-mash of topics. Life has been a bit hectic lately. Yes, it's always hectic.

Bzzzzzz...
Poor Ilan was stung by a bee this week. He reached down to get a book and a dying bee stung him. He was so shocked that an animal hurt him, that all he could say was "bzzzz hurt me!" It reminds me of the time Gavriel saw his first elephant at the zoo. He was terrified and shocked at how big it was, compared to the ones in his books. It always reminds me that they have no frame of reference for anything beyond what we teach them. Lions are no more fierce than puppies, and both are inventions of literature in our home.

While I was away...
My loving husband held down the fort while I went to Ottawa to volunteer for a very important conference sponsored by the Coalition for Breech Birth. www.breechbirth.ca It was monumental, and the perfect blend of practical medical information and the emotional face of what is wrong in our health care system. I also got to meet, have lunch, and get a hug from Ina May Gaskin. Google her. She is the mother of modern midwifery and a living icon. I was also given the opportunity to hold the Mother's quilt, similar to the AIDS quilt, with squares memorializing mothers who have been lost to childbirth. It was a very emotional moment, and I could feel the pain of those families who had made the beautiful patches.
The conference really was AMAZING, as was my opportunity to meet and chat with outstanding birth practitioners from Israel, Australia, Germany, the UK, Canada and the US. By this point, I think I can safely catch a breech baby, but think maybe I'll leave that one to the experts. I also was privileged to see my good friend Robin perform in an outstanding play, Birth, by Karen Brody and the BOLD initiative. I spent most of intermission processing my emotions from the play, but also just sitting and being so proud of being this woman's friend. The best part, however, was while waiting in the airport to fly back home, I was told by two separate midwives and an OB also waiting for their flights that they now feel energized to go home and tackle their hospital's anti-breech anti-VBAC policies. I feel like that is the best we could have hoped for from the attendees.

Moving on to reason number 457 why I deserve to have a daughter:
Gavriel: (while running and whooping through the house) I'm spike! I'm nightcrawler! I'm an x-man!
Ilan: (chasing after him and jumping in front of me) Me an x-man too Ima! Me an x-man!
Nadav: me too!

Why I love Jewish day school:
Gavriel this am early in my bed: Here Ima, hold Foxy (stuffed animal), she'll help you have good dreams.
Me: oh really, what did you dream about?
Gavriel: Me and Abba, and Ilan and Nadav, we were, how do you say it? The ones that give you a bracha in shul? Oh right, we were Cohen's. And we were in the Beit Hamikdash. Oh, but not the regular ones. We were the Cohen Gadol. So we got to talk to Hashem. Ima, do we get to have the special clothes too?

later in the day...
Me: Gavriel, please stop disciplining your brothers. You worry about taking care of you, and your Abba and I will take care of them.
Gavriel: But Ima, I want to be a tzadik. I want to do lots of mitzvot. So I'm helping take care of them.

And that's the way we roll folks. Hang on, some fun pictures coming soon.