Communication 101

Communication 101, originally uploaded by cheryl.

People are often surprised when I tell them that my four-year old twins don't talk much, especially when I tell them that Sawyer does not have any functional speech at all. Not yet, anyway.

But just because he does not have the words yet, does not mean that he doesn't communicate. He does. His way, in this and so many others, is merely different. It's his own.

Most four-year olds would probably say "Juice, please" or "I want some juice" or something else along those lines. Sawyer doesn't have any of those words just yet.

But his way is just as effective.

Get the juice you want out of the refrigerator. Get your specific juice cup (the boys all have two cups each in the same color - one for milk and one for juice - that stay in our refrigerator at all times). Set both of them on the counter together, and then go find Mommy and pull her into the kitchen.

Sometimes he skips that last step. He just waits for me to notice. But I just take that to mean he's only a little thirsty. If he really wants it now, he'll drag me in there to it. Or he'll pick up the juice and the cup and bring them to me wherever I happen to be.

One thing Sawyer certainly is not, is bashful. If he wants something, he's going to find a way to let you know about it. Trust me.

Turkey Day

Three Turkeys, originally uploaded by cheryl.

Thanksgiving is our travel holiday. We circle the state, or so it seems, every year to visit two different sides of the family.

But let's back up a moment. Thanksgiving week is a good one. There are only two days of school. Connor was ecstatic about this part. The bad news is we were home all day on Wednesday together. For hours and hours and hours. Boredom quickly ensued, even after we rotated toys around (the boys have way too many, half are kept in the large hall closet, half are out in the play room).

Wednesday night was prep time. I baked. And baked and baked. Or maybe it only felt that way because I didn't start until 9 o'clock that night, after the kids went to bed. Could be. Anyway, I was up until after midnight baking the two batches of cookies (two Thanksgiving dinners, remember).

I certainly didn't want to be up doing it in the morning. To make it to our first Thanksgiving dinner on time (about three hours away), we had to leave around 9 o'clock in the morning. Getting everyone up, dressed and fed was enough of a challenge for the morning.

Josh complained about forgetting his sunglasses about 10 minutes into the ride. Another 20 minutes or so, and that was no longer an issue. It was a very wet Thanksgiving in our part of the world. It stormed and rained and stormed some more, all day long.

Our first Thanksgiving dinner was bittersweet. It was at my grandmother's house, the one who passed away last weekend. All the food had already been bought and plans had already been made. My two aunts and one cousin, the ladies who always host and prepare holiday meals, decided to go ahead. It was good, of course, to see the extended family again. It was sad, to think of holidays past when my Grandmother was there with us.

The boys did fairly well here. They were a bit noisy, put their faces on too many glass panes for Grandma (to the boys, meaning my mother)'s taste. And they didn't touch very much food at all. But it was a pretty typical outing for them. Grandma was prepared with toys for them to play with, and snacks, too.

Connor had a great time. Uncle Brian and Cousins Austin and Kyndal were also there. The three amigos made a day of it, laughing and joking (see here for proof).

And then we were back on the road. A little longer than was planned, actually, because about 20 minutes after we left I realized I'd left my camera behind. It was still in the very crafty hiding place I had found to keep the kids from bothering it, tucked away on the side of the television stand. So back we went, adding a 40 minute detour to our original journey. The trip should have been a little over an hour. It may have been closer to two.

Another house full of people awaited. This one was hosted by Josh's aunt and uncle, and included Grammy (Josh's mother)'s extended family as well as the uncle's extended family. It really was a house FULL. The boys do better here. There's a basement with toys (and this year, a computer that was left on and quickly discovered by Xander). They ate a little, played a lot, and the evening passed quickly.

Twelve long hours after we left our house, we were headed back toward it. It would be well after 10 o'clock when we made it home. A long day, but a good one. It's not often you get to visit with that much family, or enjoy that much good food, on a random Thursday!

Little Moments ...

Life ... it keeps moving much too quickly these days.

Sometimes I feel like there's no time left in any of the days, and if there is, sitting down in front of the computer is the last thing on my list. Or perhaps, more accurately, fighting Xander and Connor for the computer is the last thing on my list. It's just not worth it, and by the time I get everyone in bed, sometimes I'm ready for bed.

Here are the little moments, those things I don't want to get lost in chaos of our lives right now ...

Xander is a chatterbox. Who knew? You can't always understand every word he's saying, but the truth is, he's always saying something. He also loves to sing. His teachers tell me he loves to sing the months of the year - and guess what - he actually knows which one is which. I learned that the other day during story time, when he wasn't really paying attention to the story and was lining up the calendar months from the classroom calendar. In order. He's also a fan of Special Agent Oso, so if you hear "Three special steps..." this is where it's coming from.

Connor loves his new scooter. He wants to ride it all the time. And take it with him everywhere he goes. It doesn't matter if it's cold or raining outside, he still wants to ride. And secretly, I think he likes to ride in hopes he can catch our neighbor and his play friend, P, outside again. He loved the afternoon a few weeks back when the boys got to play outside for a few hours after school!

French fries are the bane of my existence. Xander wants them every single day after school. You know, as we drive past all the fast-food places on the way to the car line at Connor's school. We stop about once a week, just for a little snack. But that's not nearly enough. I hear "French fries?" every single day. Every. Single. Day.

Sawyer is obsessed with Mountain Dew. Or any carbonated drink. Or any drink, really. He will drink you out of house and home if you let him. He will sneak into the refrigerator if you leave it unlocked, climb up to the very top shelf (where we tend to set our open drinks) and sneak it back into the play room. And it will disappear. You'll find empty cans scattered around the house if you're not careful.

Xander is no longer content to sit in the back seat of my truck. If Connor is not with us (like when I'm taking the twins to their school) or if Connor is simply too slow to get in, Xander will hop up in his car seat and stake his claim. Screaming and hitting quickly follow. It's funny how similar these two are in personality. It's not funny how much they constantly butt heads.

Connor is big on telling stories. I couldn't tell you half of them, but sometimes I seriously wonder what really goes on at his school from what he tells me. Sometimes it's that his friends eat all his lunch, or that they simply don't serve lunch. Other days it's how someone ripped his art project, or how his friends talk too much and get him in trouble. His teacher swears he's good in class, listens and doesn't talk any more than any of the other kindergartners. Perhaps he just has a big imagination these days.

Sleep. Also the bane of our existence. The twins have never had what you would call regular sleep patterns. Lately, they've been worse than normal. Xander has been up much earlier than he ever has before. He averages about 6 a.m. - sometimes earlier, hardly ever later. Sawyer is all over the place. It depends on when he falls asleep. He really only requires about 6 to 8 hours a day. And if he falls asleep at 6 p.m. after a hard day, he's going to be awake at 1 a.m. for the day. Good times.

And those are the things I can think of right now. Perhaps I will think of more later. I need to do a better job of writing them down, or writing about them in the moment - instead of waiting for more time (which never seems to come) or for the perfect photo to go along with it. Such is life ...

In Loving Memory ...

Funerals are hard. They're even worse around the holidays.

My grandmother passed away over the weekend. This particular illness only lasted a few weeks, but her health had been declining in recent years. She was 94, and her body and her mind had not been her own for some time.

On Monday, the boys and I made our way across the state to say our good-byes. We traveled with my brother, Uncle Brian, and his son Austin (Kyndal was sick with the stomach bug and stayed home in bed).

The more I think about it, the more I tend to agree with my grandmother that funerals aren't necessary. She didn't want one. And she didn't have one, at least not in the traditional sense of the word. Immediate family gathered together at the funeral home for a very brief viewing, immediate family made the procession to the cemetery for an even briefer service, and she was laid to rest next to other family members who have passed before her.

With three kids along, I spent most of my time keeping my twins at a safe distance from the others. Social skills are not their strong suit, and understanding sadness and solemness is not something they have just yet. Connor, though not fully understanding the event, was calm and quiet with Uncle Brian and Austin. I was not sorry to be otherwise occupied with the twins. It was a welcome distraction from a sad day. We stood at the edge, enjoying abnormally warm weather, the strong winds and watching the sun peak out from behind the fast-moving clouds. The cold and the rain stayed away this day.

This final chapter is not how I will remember my grandmother.

No. I will remember her as she was - strong and kind, selfless and devoted to her family. I will remember Sunday dinners around her table, her house filled with family every single weekend of my life (at least until I started a family of my own). I will remember holidays, when the house was packed from one end to the other with several generations and branches of the family. I will remember five-gallon jugs of lemonade and fresh strawberries and pot roast nearly every week, because she knew how much I liked it. I will remember sitting under the shade trees in her front yard, spending lazy Sunday afternoons surrounded by aunts and uncles and cousins. I will remember her smile and her laugh and how she was always the center, the heart, of our family.

I will think of all the stories I remember being told. I will remember how she was up before the dawn every single day, making not one but two different breakfasts for her family - one for a son who worked first shift at a factory more than an hour away and one for the other children still at home. I will remember how much of the food, so lovingly prepared by her hands, also grew and was harvested by those same hands in their family fields. I will remember her drawer full of flour in the kitchen, for biscuits and baking and so many other goodies she made. I will remember how even as she got older and was attacked by a fox on her farm, how she grabbed a nearby tobacco stick and beat that fox to death. Yes, really.

I will remember her love, her spirit and her presence in my life. That's the grandmother I will always remember.

Just Because ...

That would be Xander, enjoying recess his way. Just because.

Special thanks to Mrs. D, the boys' speech therapist at school, for sharing the photo!