Decision 2010

You will be able to infer, based on the video below that I won we chose a school for Piglet.

He will be at this school for one year and possibly three until we transfer him to a school that absolutely "dazzled" Mr. K. I'll introduce you to that school in another post.

For now, we are settled!

Touring

Mr. K and I have been touring schools for Piglet for several weeks now. We are leaning heavily towards a language immersion program and with this in mind, our breakfast conversation with Piglet goes something like this:

Me: Piglet, can you say cwahssan (croissant)?

Piglet: Cwahssan!!!

Me: Piglet, can you say fromage?

Piglet: Fromage!

Mr. K: Piglet, can you say "I am speaking a dead European language?"

Oh that Mr. K, he thinks he is so funny.

If he had his druthers, we would enroll Piglet in a Mandarin Chinese immersion program.

Yesterday.

He figures that it will serve Piglet well to know the language of our "future overlords."

And he may have a point.

But let's face it, "Ni Hao Ma!" does not have the same flair as "Bonjour Maman!" And to be honest, the school with Mandarin immersion is, as Mr. K put it, "kind of a dump." Some facilities are modern and new while two of the main buildings should probably be checked for asbestos and mold. Seriously. MVK never jokes about mold and I'm telling you that there was a dank smell that hinted at something more. Thankfully, the classroom where the three year-olds are housed is in one of the newer buildings but the four year-olds are in mold central so we would only have one year before having to decide what to do next.

The school of the dead European language is fantastic all-around. The grounds are lovely and well-maintained and the buildings are bright and clean. The children all appeared happy and confident, not to mention adorable with their "s'il te plait" this and "oui, c'est bon!" that. The teachers are all native speakers and the head of school who has a PhD, stated a very compelling case for language immersion. I was smitten from the get-go, imagining my Piglet being all French speaking and fabulous.

Because that right there is the truth.

The French language is freaking fabulous. Sure, it's not as useful as sayyyyyy Spanish or Mandarin, but who needs useful when you can have FABULOUS?! Just saying.

Besides, let's just call a spade a spade. Mr. K is a genius-level uber geek. Signs point to Piglet having inherited the geek gene. Odds are that while it would be an amazing gift for him to be bilingual, he probably wouldn't need it in his chosen career.

Did you catch that?

I just charted my 2.5 year-old's career path.

NO, I DO NOT HAVE CONTROL ISSUES.

Thank you very much.

Moving on!

While we cannot believe that the time has come to consider preschools for Piglet, we know that he will probably be ready to start in January and certainly next fall. It's an exciting process for us and especially for Mr. K who loves to learn and loves that he will be able to share this journey with Piglet soon.

I am having so much fun touring schools and imagining Piglet making pipe cleaner art and handprint wreaths. Though I'm pretty sure my parents didn't go through this elaborate process with me. I think they just picked a place that was clean and where the people didn't seem like they would practice corporal punishment.

Ah, how times have changed.

Piglet, enjoy your last days of lounging and raiding the pantry. Change is a-comin'!


P.S. - To my new fan Liz, this one was for you. Now you can say "TWO freaking posts in October?" Put me out of my misery and hit follow already!

Oh Reality, surely you jest.

Okay. Where did we leave off?

Oh I KNOW.

I was about to embark on a sunny, dream vacation to celebrate my 20th friendaversary with my BFF.

And let me tell you, it was awesome! The best part? We discovered that we are perfect travel companions. Which is HUGE. You know how sometimes you are great friends with someone and then you go on vacation with them and you suddenly discover 1,000 annoying little things about each other that have you calling your spouse from the bathroom saying "OMG! She pouted all morning because we didn't go out to breakfast!" or "She spends all her time on the phone! I might as well be on this trip alone!"

Not with Jess. Not for one second did we get on each others' nerves or bicker or have a moment of tension. Miraculously, we seemed to be in sync for the entirety of our trip. No small feat! I think that this is due in large part to the fact that we both fundamentally believe that vacation has three finite goals: lounge, eat, and shop. Oh and also because we were drunk most of the time.

KIDDING! (not really)

It helps too that we share the same twisted sense of humor where even a CONVERSATION about the SkyMall catalog can send us into a crying fit of laughter. Meaning, there was no actual catalog on the plane, but just TALKING about it made our shoulders shake and eyes tear up because YES, a standing pig wearing a chef's hat and apron while holding a chalkboard is *that* funny.

Conclusion: we are ridiculous.

I could regale you with many tales from our trip, but perhaps the most memorable was our evening spent with the troubadour Paul who insisted on serenading us TABLESIDE whilst staring deeply into our eyes (Jess' were intermittently averted by the very arduous task of cutting asparagus). My strategy was to think of the most unfunny things possible, you know -- dead bunnies and JESUS ON THE CROSS.

Seriously. The whole evening was complete hilarity. Oh, One-Man-Show Paul with your Mark Cohn and Bruce Hornsby, you made our evening one of the funniest in TWENTY YEARS, for this we thank you.

If you're wondering how Mr. K fared, he was a superstar. I got texts all day long with photos and videos of happy piglets. He had a marvelous time with the whole Mr. Mom gig. In fact, he was so effusive about the whole experience, he had me wondering if perhaps he was enjoying my absence TOO much. When asked what made single parenting so fun for him Mr. K replied "I think it was being able to do whatever I wanted with the kids. I could even dress them in stuff that didn't really match!"

You'll excuse me now as I clean up the mess because MY HEAD JUST EXPLODED.

Ahem.

Jess and I returned in the evening around 7:00 p.m. and to say I hit the ground running would be an understatement. I no sooner set down my bags then it was "Juice! I need juice!" and "the babies need to eat!" My first full day after vacation went something like this:

9:00 a.m. - Playdate

11:00 a.m. - prepare trio for dr. visit and shots

12:30 p.m. - leave for dr.

2:45 p.m. - return home from dr. visit (during which the nurse started fanning me with the Twinks' charts because things got so crazy)

3:00 p.m. - drop off prescriptions at the pharmacy

3:30 p.m. - pick up dog from groomer due to "anal gland issues"

4:00 p.m. - take dog to vet for above mentioned problems

5:00 p.m. - return to pharmacy and pick up prescriptions

5:30 p.m. - make dinner, feed kids

6:00 p.m. - bathe babies

6:30 p.m. - last feed for babies

7:00 p.m. - bath for Piglet

7:30-10:00 p.m. - replace binkies, soothe babies, put Piglet to bed, clean kitchen, pick up house

Now how's that for a strong dose of reality?

Did I mention we had our own pool and 3,000 sq feet to frolic in just the two of us?

There's no such thing as a gradual re-entry when you are a mother!

So, if you're the jealous type...

You should skip this post.

Seriously.

Because it's gonna smart to read this one. A little. Okay, maybe a lot.

Especially if you have small children and are short on sleep.

Because my husband is all kinds of awesome sometimes.

And as I mentioned before, last year for my birthday, he told me to go away.

Without. The. Kids.

For FIVE days!

Not one to argue (ahem), I'm going.

TODAY!

And -- the best part? I'm taking my bestfriend with me. Five glorious poolside, coma-like-sleep, martini-stupor-filled and A&E movie marathon days. The weather's going to be hot like fire, but we honestly don't give a fart. Yep, I said fart. I live with four boys. It's part of our daily vocabulary. We are staying in a giant casita at a swanky resort and we have been waiting A YEAR for this vacation.

Correction. We have been waiting TWENTY years for this vacation, which is how long we've known each other, which is since we were 14 years old.

Annnnd now you know how old I am. Don't let it go to your head.

Presently I am running around like a terrifying organizer bunny with 'roid rage trying to get everything squared away before I leave at o'dark thirty tomorrow today. Curious what this involves? Want a sneak peek into the 'I dream of Container Store' brain of MVK?

Here's a sampling of what's on my list:

• Type up eight page user manual schedule for Twinks
• Fully stock fridge with the five items that Piglet will eat plus leafy greens for Mr. K.
• Clean and disinfect inside of suitcase
• Select outfits and make sure I pack the appropriate unmentionables to wear with each
• Pump, store in bags, date and freeze EXACTLY 262.5 ounces of milk, count it all again to make sure
• Send Mr. K an email reminding him of Piglet's classes and activities for the week. Also remind him to give Piglet daily vitamins.
• Double check and confirm hotel and car reservations
• Vacuum my purse

I sobbed a little as I bathed and put the Twinks to bed tonight, knowing that they will still be asleep when I leave in the morning so I won't have another chance squeeze their chubby thigh and kiss their round cheeks! As for Piglet, I told him I was going on a trip and he was staying home with Daddy for a few days. His response?

"Okay, mommy! BYE!!! I GO SEE CHOO CHOOS WITH DADDY! YAY!"

His little spirit was just CRUSHED as you can see.

Okay, off to check more things off my list. Only 3,842 more items to go.

HOLLA!

I'm baaaaaaaack!

Miss me?

Did you??

Did you?!

(I know that *some* special people did because they keep leaving "comments" in Chinese and passing on interesting links.)

Anyway, I missed you all. A whole LOT.

I have a list of excuses as long as my last receipt from Target, but would you believe the most compelling one has nothing to do with Piglet or the Twinks? In fact, it has to do with Mr. K and his (failed! gasp!) attempts to replace my hard drive.

Replace my hard drive. (giggle giggle snicker)

It seems that my MacBook Pro was low on space and it should've been an easy fix. But, OMIHOLYLORD. It was *quite* the ordeal. One ding to my clamshell and FIVE WEEKS later, I finally got my MacBook back. I learned me a very valuable lesson. If you get some sort of message saying that you might be low on disk space due to blahblahblahblahwahwahwahwahblahblah, DO NOT. I repeat, DO NOT read the message to your nerdy, husband who has OCD tendencies about these things unless you intend to relinquish your computer for weeks on end and live with a cranky, frustrated spouse. Don't get me wrong, I know I am lucky to have a nerd at my beck and call and now my MBP is lightening fast and I can store as many damn videos and pictures as I please. I am very grateful.

BUT -- damn, that took for-freaking-ever. And a blogger needs her 'puter.

JUST SAYING.

A short update on we folks here at Maison Piglets. The Twinks are fast-approaching six months! SIX! And they are getting fatter than ever, tipping the scales at nearly 17lbs apiece. Piglet is almost completely potty trained! As in, wears days of the week undies and runs around the house bellowing "I go pee pee! I go pee pee NOW!" I swear, when we are home, the child is naked from the waist down for approximately 77% of the day. It's become clear that THE accessory to have at our house is a pen.is. And if that's true, I am completely out of luck because I don't think J.Crew got those in their last shipment. Same goes for Nordstrom. Maybe I should look online?

Anyway, our summer flew by and culminated with a one week vacation to the beach with my family. What we learned is that there will not be any "vacations" for us for approximately 9.5 more years. At least. Going on "vacation" right now just basically means that we are relocating the hamster wheel and its accoutrements elsewhere.

I will now pause so that you can all get a good, clear mental picture of Mr. K and me running on a giant hamster wheel, wood chips flying, our three piglets cracking the whip whenever we stop to catch our breath.

Got it?

Anyway...seriously.

Being away from the comfort and convenience of our home was a total nightmare special challenge. From packing up all our crap to then trying to jam it into our car to the two hour (in traffic) car ride there, it was so challenging and exhausting and I would just as soon stay home and look at a freaking postcard while listening to some New Agey ocean sounds on CD.

What we learned is that raising twins and a two year-old is unbelievably difficult. And traveling? Forget it. At least for awhile.

(Insert diatribe about how I'm "not complaining" and I know "how lucky" we are, how I "never take my children for granted.") I could write it all out again, but do you really want to hear it?

Really?

Reeeeeally?

I don't believe you!

But rest assured it's what's in my heart. I love my kids and family but, in the words of Mr. K, "I'll be a monkey's uncle" if this isn't the most stressful, exhausting time of our lives.

To make up for being silent so long, and to give you and idea of what we've been up to, I compiled the following snapshots from the past two (hang head in shame) months just for you. Where words fail, photos speak. And where photos fail, you can fill in the blanks!

Enjoy.

Oh how I've missed you my bloggy friends, I'm so excited to be back!

Milking it

You knew this was coming. So many of you commented about the milk picture that I thought I should dedicate a short entry just to this subject.

To Gabby who wondered if I'm taking Domperidone to increase my milk supply: would you believe the answer is no? No Reglan either. Or Fenugreek. Or Mother's Milk Tea!

I do, however take a daily dose of Starbucks which I chase with an every-other-day dose of booze. :) Whatever it takes, right?

In all seriousness, I do feel *extremely* fortunate to have a milk supply that can support two giant, growing babies. There's a certain sense of pride that comes with looking at two babies who are all rolls and dimples and knowing I made it so. My inner dialogue usually goes something like this: I DID THAT! MADE THEM FAT! That roll over there? ME! Those three rolls down below? ME TOO! Those dimples everywhere? ALL MOI! SQUEE!

I also sometimes think this when I look at myself too closely. Though it's with much less triumph and I usually pass the blame to Haagen Daz. Damn them!

When Piglet was a baby, I would literally drown him in milk. Poor thing. It was always too much, my body just couldn't help itself! And now I know why my body did this -- in preparation for Les Twinks. See? EVERY PART OF ME IS A PLANNER.

EVERY.

PART.

If you weren't convinced of that before, you should be now.

It's real and it's deep, people.

REAL and DEEP.

I do have to send a shout-out to all nursing, pumping moms. Even when you make a lot of milk and under the best of conditions, this crap is hard. Yes, sometimes it's serene and sweet but it can also be grueling. It takes serious dedication and commitment and I salute you. I am with you in the trenches every day!

Coming soon to a blog near you, "My doula, my dealer" in HD.

But in the meantime, here are some recent pictures to whet your palate. (Apologies for the use of the word "whet," have been watching period movies again!)

P.S. Yes, I really *am* doing what you think I'm doing in that picture. Dude. You KNOW I'm a multi-tasker!

OH EM BEE.

OH. MY. BLOG.

I did it again! I made you feel unloved and abandoned!

I'm sad.

I'm ashamed!

I'm sorry.

Aaaannnnd, I was maybe a little busy.

Sometimes while I'm sitting at a red light, I find myself daydreaming about blog entries. Of course, frequently, by the time I get in front of my laptop (which is usually hours later), the blog entry idea is gone.

POOF!

Not to be mistaken for POOP! which also occurs frequently.

What I really need to do is use the memo recorder app on my iPhone to remedy this problem. I just can't bring myself to do it though because I feel like Piglet would be in the back seat in his furry throne car seat thinking "Wow, my mom's kind of a tool."

Anyway, even though not all of them made it out of the ol' thinking cap, here are some the the headlines that survived:

He pooped!

I survived!

Bags.

Loved ones.

Chubba bubba.

Party house.

My doula, my dealer.

Vice and make it a double.

More from Mr. K

Eat, Play, Sleep (newly added!)

If any of these catch your fancy (please forgive, as I only have boys, I need to flagrantly use the word 'fancy' as much as possible), leave me a comment and tell me which ones. Based on popularity (because pssht, popularity is *everything*), I'll write my next blog entry.

For now, where words fail, pictures speak.

Here's a glimpse into life at Maison Piglet over the past month.

Enjoy.

Oh WHOOPS! How did that picture of Mr. K's arse, butt, BOTTOM get in there?

And yes, that moo juice? It's from one session. And dems 10oz bottles.

YOU HEARD ME.

The one you've been waiting for.

So, Father's Day was fast-approaching and though I wracked my (addled, sleep-deprived) brain, I was at a loss for inspiration.

Afterall, how would I *ever* top the Mother's Day gift(s) I'd been given this year? I mean, REALLY. How does one top that? I was faced with a mind bender.

During the week leading up to Father's Day (hereafter referred to as F.D.), I looked to my children for inspiration. Dems cute, dems full of ideas (especially that wiley two year-old) and dems who I spend most of my waking hours with. In between the shrieking (Piglet), spitting up (Twinks) and meltdowns (ALL), I searched for the perfect idea, but remained at a loss.

That is, until the morning before F.D.

I thought I'd capture Piglet on video giving a little tribute to his old man. You know, a little improv plus some "I wuv you daddyyyyy!" or "Appy Ather's Day Daddyyyy!"

Instead, I got this:

Pure genius! Just the inspiration I was seeking! My Piglet is such a clever little boffin.

So on this momentous occasion, Mr. K's first Father's Day with THREE children, I presented him with this:

Note that I sprung for the Ultra, Double Roll, jumbo pack with NEW Cotton Comfort. So posh!

And this:

Sorry for the poor quality, off-center picture, but hopefully you can at least make out the text.

Because we are all for saving trees, I went with a punchcard format instead of individual coupons. Next, I'm going to laminate it!

I also want to give a shout-out to all my hilarious FB friends who egged me on and suggested coupons for things such as nail trims, shaving cream and toilet scrubbing! Bahahahahaha.

Lest you think I am all about revenge and grudge holding (though you are mostly correct), let the record show that I did surprise Mr. K by booking him a 90 minute massage this morning.

Afterall, SOMEONE has got to lead by example around here. Before he departed for his massage, I reminded Mr. K. that this was not only a gift but ALSO a TEACHABLE MOMENT. As in -- I'm trying to teach you how NOT to screw me on Mother's Day again.

Because if you do, I guarantee you, your next F.D. will most *certainly* be more of an F.U.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY HONEY!!! THANKS FOR BEING AN AMAZING DAD TO OUR PIGLETS! LOVE YOU! MMMMMMMMWAH.