Sonya made a “heart with sprinkles” and a stick twined with felt and little flowers at Miss Katya’s daycare. Unfortunately, the heart blew away from the stroller and some of the “sprinkles”, which are bits of colored Easter eggshells, came unglued. And then another parent came to my house and left with my stick, so I don’t have it anymore. But they were both lovely gifts!

This weekend, we had Sonya’s friend Ella come for a sleepover while her parents enjoyed a quick getaway. We took several trips to the playground, ate dinner outside, and passed the time enjoyably.

It still took a lot of energy keeping up with two potty-training toddlers. I don’t know how mothers of twins do it!

Over the past three years, I’ve really grown into my role as a mom, and I feel inspired, rewarded, and fulfilled— 90% of the time. The other 10% of the time, I want to bang my head against a wall.

I got breakfast this morning— just like I wanted. Scrambled eggs with cheese. Fresh-made scones. Raspberries. After that, it was a typical day. With an extra kid. I better get to sleep because tomorrow is a work-in-the-office day!

I am so grateful for my daughters’ grandmothers, aunts, caregivers, and my fellow moms who share this remarkable journey with me. I am humbled by my imperfection and stupidity— but I’m so grateful that I get a chance to be Sonya and Leena’s mom. They are my blessings and my treasures. Always. Forever.

We began a family ritual called Candle Time. Every night, we sit around the kitchen table and light a pair of candles, one for each of our girls to blow out. It’s our time to be together, enjoy a final snack before bedtime, and settle down for sleep. We share one thing we did today and one thing we look forward to doing tomorrow.

It’s become something that we all anticipate every evening. Sonya can say, “I want Candle Time.” Leena points at the beeswax tapers and razzes like she’s blowing out a candle.

It’s a nice coming-together at the end of each day. I hope Candle Time continues for years to come.

In the evenings, despite my best intentions, I often feel too tired to write anything beyond a few lines in this space. Instead, I do a little knitting, a little streaming video watching, and a whole lot of reading. Lately, I’ve been reading papers on Crohn’s disease, which is an inflammatory bowel disease that affects the GI tract from mouth to anus. Most unpleasant. The disease itself, of course— and reading the scientific literature on it.

By the end of next week, I’ve got to write a grant proposal for some research I’m going to start this summer. I just can’t seem to quit medicine altogether, even though my eyes start to pinwheel when I read phrases like “transmural infiltration of polymorphonuclear neutrophils.” Why can’t the paper just say “neutrophils [a type of white blood cell] invade the lining of the bowel wall?”

As an antidote for this sort of academic reading, I happily consume lots of young adult and teen books. I’m slowly working my way through the library’s collection. I had the good fortune of “discovering” Brian Selznick last month. I borrowed Wonderstruck, read it in three days, then went out and bought The Invention of Hugo Cabret because I had to read it immediately. I loved them both and I highly recommend them. Not just to read, but to own.

Sonya loves robots and clocks, so we read bits of Hugo together. She thinks that she’s the character of Hugo’s friend Isabelle.

They both have the same Parisian bob and love of adventure. I got totally sucked into both stories, and I look forward to more Brian Selznick! I find the interleaving of narrative and illustrations very cinematic and compelling. I can’t wait to watch the Martin Scorsese movie adaptation.

Last night, I went to a book signing by local author Catherine McKenzie. I got her latest novel Forgotten. It’s definitely not my usual pick. For grown-up reading, I prefer nonfiction, biography, memoirs, and trashy girl magazines. But I’m intrigued by the premise of the book. And it’s cool to read the work of an author I’ve met. But for the next seven days, my life is about neutrophil dysfunction in Crohn’s disease.

These two are fun to watch together. A lens in my mind flips back and forth, like the dials my optometrist uses on his giant machine, trying to get the world into focus. I see back to when Leena was newly born. Then, a turn of some dials in the brain, and I’m imagining what these conspiring sisters will be like another year from now. What schemes will hatch? What mischief will ensue? What am I in for?

They’re a formidable team that will quickly outsmart me. Without a doubt. On some days, I think they already do.

But I do my best to foster the natural connection these two girls already have. One of the sweetest afternoon habits is “couch cuddles.” They’ll just roll around and laugh while I worry that someone’s going to fall off, get hurt, chip a tooth. I don’t know.

This always seems to start when I’m knitting. It’s like they want me to watch them and do absolutely nothing else. Maddening.

But I think a little insanity helps.

* Just goes to show that an expensive camera does take better pictures, regardless of who’s taking them. Against my better judgment (maybe add “gullible” as a fourth thing about me), I allowed Sonya to take these pictures within arm’s reach. She took about twenty shots, and while most of them were blurry, they’re all maybe some of the best close-up portraits ever taken of me!

Unfortunately, now that she’s seen the amazing quality of the pictures she can take with the SLR, Sonya has demanded that she be allowed to use it. She’s said things like, “I being real careful.” and “Let’s trade!” and “First, Sonya get a turn, THEN Mommy get a turn.” These comments bridge the transition from special one-time use to full-time ownership.

Meanwhile, this has been a fun exercise— distilling out our essential characteristics. When Drex gets home on Sunday, maybe I’ll have him sit on the sofa and see what three things get captured by the portrait lens. What three defining qualities would you pick for yourself?

This afternoon, I sewed Leena a repurposed Imke shirt. She’s taking long naps, eating huge meals, and going through a growth spurt, so I made a roomy 18 month size.

I think it’s cute and funny, because it’s a sushi shirt. And babies don’t eat sushi.

This evening, just when I thought I might be at a psychological breaking point, two of my friends offered to watch the girls for a couple hours while I went out to dinner. It was a much-needed sanity break!

Even though the girls have been adoring, sweet, and well-behaved— geez, I hate to complain— it takes a great deal of focused energy for a grown-up to maintain the level of constant exuberance required by young children.

I totally lost it with a mom I met on my walk home from Sonya’s daycare this afternoon. She was pushing an umbrella stroller. Her daughter, who was asleep, looked about Sonya’s age. This mom told me I was so lucky because I had two boys. Before I could say anything, she said she was 43 and wasn’t going to have any more kids, and she was disappointed that she “only had a girl.”

That is a literal quote. Unbelievable.

I told her my sons were actually daughters. Then she said, “I’m sorry! That’s too bad! I thought they were boys.”

Literal quote.

And then I lost it.

I’m not sure what I said exactly. I think I refrained from name-calling or profanity, but I definitely gave her an Angry Raging Pissed Off Feminist Speech that practically made her eyes goggle out of her head on springs.

If this woman ever sees me again, she will quickly roll her umbrella stroller to the other side of the street.

This was one of those kind of days.

But I think, even if I’d gotten more sleep and hadn’t spent the morning cleaning eggs off of every surface in the kitchen, I’d have reacted the same way.

There aren’t very many things that make me fly off the handle— but people WITH daughters who STILL wish their daughters were sons— they make me absolutely crazy. Someone who tells me it’s too bad that I have two daughters instead of two sons— THAT makes me ABSOLUTELY bonkers.

Because I wouldn’t trade my girls for any boys.

Or any other girls, for that matter.

Now I better get some rest.

I’m a very sound sleeper, and last night I stayed up past midnight working on this story that needed to come out on paper, so I wasn’t eager to get out of bed this morning.

I vaguely recall hearing a dull thud, but there wasn’t any baby cries, so I think my subconscious filtered it out as house noise. Then I rolled over and went back to sleep. Eventually, I realized there wasn’t a warm body next to me anymore. Sonya must have gotten up! I launched out of bed to go find her and almost stepped over my two daughters in the kitchen.

Sonya casually looked up and said, “Good morning, Mom! You all done sleeping?”

My brain was having trouble processing what I was seeing. Leena had been sleeping in her play pen in the toy room! She can’t climb out! Drex isn’t here!

“Sonya, how did Leena get out?”

“I help her, Mom.”

I was still confused. Excited to share the story, Sonya lead me to the toy room.

Here’s what I think happened. Sonya dumped all the stuffed animals out of the giant zoo bucket. She turned it upside down. She pushed it to the edge of the toy bin. Then she tried to get Leena to climb onto the bucket.

Apparently, that didn’t work.

So then Sonya climbed onto the radiator next to the playpen, and pushed the top of it with her legs, trying to tip it over. It just slid on the floor. She kept kicking it and managed to unlock and collapse one of the sides. She was then able to assist Leena to freedom.

The two of them went to the kitchen. Sonya got the box of Cheerios down from the counter, poured it into a bowl, on the table, and all over the floor.

“I not reaching the milk or peebub butter,” she told me. I got them for her.

“You can go now, Mom,” she said.

I gladly went to take a shower. I listened to the pleasant clatter from the kitchen as I was getting dressed. No running water. All the cupboards are locked. Excellent. I went to reread what I wrote last night. Turns out, it was pretty awful.

“My stove not working,” Sonya said, coming to find me in the living room. I heard Leena crawling towards us down the hallway, making her endearing little huh huh huh huh noises.

Finally, my lack of providing quality adult supervision came to bite me. I knew it eventually would. Following the trail of slime Leena had left in her wake, I saw that all around the toy kitchen and into her wooden pot, Sonya had managed to crack half a dozen eggs.

“Leena and I making scrambled eggs for you, Mom.”

I took a deep breath and tried to think of the right thing to say.

I went over and turned the knobs on Sonya’s burner. “Your pilot light is out,” I said. “Better use the big stove. Let’s scoop these eggs into my frying pan and we’ll scramble them up. Then we better walk over to Miss Katya’s daycare! It’s almost 8:30!”

One of my readers Maggie suggested making Sonya something out of Daddy’s old clothes to help her feel connected to him while he’s away. That was a wonderful and well-timed suggestion! After weeks of waiting for a part to arrive, I just picked up my sewing machine from the repair shop! It works just like new!

Sonya has been really happy about wearing this Imke shirt all day! It’s made from two of Daddy’s repurposed T-shirts. [He's seen wearing one of them here].

Sonya sat next to me while I was sewing, bouncing up and down in her chair, intermittently clapping her hands as I did the shoulder seams, attached the neck band, put in the sleeves, and closed up the sides. She wanted to put it on immediately! Finishing the hems was absolutely out of the question.

It was a really easy and quick pattern to make, even though I had to rip a few seams because I kept forgetting one of the fundamental rules of sewing— RIGHT SIDES TOGETHER! Nonetheless, the end result looks pretty professional— except I need a serger to finish the edges with a polished overlock stitch.

“I want to make another one Mom! With Daddy’s Iron Man!” Sonya said. She was referring to Daddy’s favorite t-shirt, with a silver foil-printed Iron Man on it.

Don’t worry, Big D. I told her no. But then she threw this curveball—

“Maybe Leena need a Daddy Iron Man shirt?”

True. Leena does need an Imke shirt so she can be wrapped in Daddy’s love, too. We’ll do more cutting and sewing tonight. We’ll try to stick with worn-out old athletic shirts, though. They’re really soft, and despite many washes, they have the added bonus of retaining traces of Daddy’s scent.

“I smell him, Mom!” Sonya said, pulling the fabric to her face and taking in a deep breath.

This is our first project out of the colorful book Sewing Clothes Kids Love. It certainly delivered on the title’s promise!