Sorry, Kids

In two weeks we will be celebrating in big style the birth of our wee one. One whole year of loving on this miracle of ours, and I can hardly believe it. It is no denying we have learned our way through life with Prune Belly Syndrome, but as I begin to reflect on this year I have realized I learned so much more than a rare condition. I have learned life with 2 kids under 2. So here is what the first year of *almost* Irish twins has looked like from my seat:

the poop threshold

The poop threshold. Ahh. Some of you moms are nodding your head as you read this. And some of you are going back to see if you read that right. What is the poop threshold? For us this is our back door. We will be ready to leave (maybe even a few minutes early so Mom can stop and get Starbucks), yet when my kids cross the threshold of our back door they poop. Both of them. Without fail. Every. Single. Time.

So. Back in we go to change little sister only for big brother to think he knows how to do it himself. And then Mom slips and falls while running into his bathroom. She soon discovers it was his poop he smeared on the floor that she fell on. 

So. In goes everyone into the bathtub. (Baby girl has to take a bath too, because I'm only running bathwater one time today.) Mom calms down a little bit with the smell of that lavender baby shampoo. All get washed up, redressed, and out the door no more than 30 minutes late.

literally, about 5 seconds later I bet he pooped

like brother, like sister

AnnLouise (Scout...what are we calling her? A year later we still don't know.) is nearly 1 year old. She thinks she can do what her brother can do. Naturally. She loves hammering on his tool bench, driving trucks over your feet, and riding 4wheelers. My mom gave her a very sentimental doll for Christmas handmade by my old Amish friend I used to hang out with in Arkansas. So thoughtful. I could've cried. Yeah, AnnLouise has driven trucks over that poor doll, but though I try my best she has yet to care if that little thing is covered up with her matching blanket.

Friday night family movie & popcorn

driving Sister around

monogrammed clothes

These are super popular...for the first baby. When Henry was born, I wanted everything monogrammed. He always looked so cute, and his 4 generation pictures were perfect with his monogrammed onesie. 

Pullin 4 generations

Little sister came along, and she has everything monogrammed too. It is just kind of weird on her to say HVP and be in blue. She rocks it though.

(We won't talk about the 4 generations pictures with AnnLouise. Oops. It slipped my mind. Then my grandpa died. I'm kind of regretting not getting on those pictures now. I'm mom failing the mess out of this first year.)

We're no longer 5 minutes late everywhere we go!

Nope. We're not 5 minutes late everywhere we go anymore. It is more like 30 minutes. On a good day. (See "the poop threshold" above.) I don't even apologize anymore. Those words are lost on my friends and folks at church. They don't believe I'm sorry. Mostly because I'm not. I can't be sorry that much of every day and still have any self-confidence left.

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

Henry is at that ripe age that he likes to run away. He's not yet packing his bag and purposely wanting to leave his parents' house. He just runs away from me without consideration of any consequence from either me or the outside world. He literally believes the world is his playground.

Last week I was going to ENSURE they didn't get out of the house while I took a shower. It was one of those days. I didn't feel well. Cash was busy at work. It was Tuesday, and we don't go to MDO until Wednesdays. Henry had already tried the runaway method that morning. All the things.

But I was leading Bible study that night at church and had to get in the shower so they wouldn't kick me out when I got there. To keep the kids from running out the door when I was in my 45 second cold shower, I locked both my bathroom door and my bedroom door and kept them in the bathroom with me. I was pretty impressed with myself as I washed my hair for the first time in a few days week. 

Well, until I peeked out the shower and saw 4 tiny hands having the time of their lives swirling around in my toilet. Four tiny hands and my towel. 

So. Into the shower we all went. The rest is history. 

sorry, kids

All this to say, I'm sorry, kids.

The family that has it all together. All on the same page at the same time. Obviously.

Mom is sorry she doesn't make the cute Mickey Mouse pancakes like your dad does on Saturday mornings. I'm sorry I simply give you oatmeal and a banana every day.

Mom is sorry that your closet on Pinterest looks better than in real life. The good news is Mimi brings new clothes over fairly often. (Thanks, Mimi.)

Mom is sorry that she has semi-lied about why we go to church. It is very true I take you to church because we all need to love Jesus more. It is also very true, and I'm sorry I never told you, that Mom will give more than 10% to the church to keep the nursery open.

Mom is sorry she has a mere 3 episodes of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse recorded and pretends like it is a new one every time she wants to sit down and taste the bottom part of her coffee.

Your dad thinks I should apologize for not giving you actual medicine and pouring essential oils all over you instead. I don't know I'm sorry about that. Give Mom a little bit of a break.

Mom is sorry that she wears high-waisted mom jeans and cut bangs and has the Armada and not the Infiniti. I know I'm not cool. But, really, something you need to know now is that Mom was never that cool. So you were kind of setup to have an uncool mom to begin with. (You can mourn with your dad. He was tricked too.) And before you think it is all okay because mom jeans are popular, let me admit something: I wear them for the comfort. I tuck my t-shirts in too because I just like it like that. And gosh, I know wearing tennis shoes with straight leg pants is not going to win any fashion awards, but I have to chase you both a lot. Right now it is not about thriving. It is about surviving. And let me tell you two something, your mom is surviving comfortably.

Scout & Mommy

Mom is sorry that she kisses you all the time. My older friends say this goes so fast. I had a dream one night that Henry was 18, and I woke up scared that it really had gone as fast as they said it would. I love you little things. You are a lot of work. I only have one year down with the two of you, so I know I will learn even more. But my goodness. If you could know how much I love you, you wouldn't squirm away from me when I kiss your face 57 times. 

I probably have a lot more I could apologize to y'all for, but you are 1 and 2 and there are a lot more things in life I'll do wrong. Undoubtedly, I will embarrass you at Kindergarten drop off when I cry, the night your prom date comes by the house and I take 384 pictures (and will be posting them to Instagram even though it will be irrelevant by then), the day we move you into your dorm and I call the Hogs even if you don't go to the U of A. (But you will.) There will be lots in life I do wrong, but probably a thing or two I do right too. So give your ol' mom a break. And, seriously, quit playing in the toilet. I could really embarrass you one day with those pictures.