Oh, Kyan...

There is so much to say about Kyan that it would never fit in a single blog post. Before the twins were born I was terrified that I would never be able to love them as much as I love Kyan. I was reassured by all parents of more than one child that it was indeed possible to love that much more than once...I was still not so sure about that.
Kyan's birth was...traumatic...to say the least, but from the minute he was in my arms (before they whisked him away to the NICU) I was in love.

He has been a complete and utter joy from the very beginning. Ben and I constantly relate our Kyan stories to one another before we go to bed, and I can say that no one nor anything has ever made me laugh the way he does.

He has always had a smile that warms the heart. He is also very sweet, loving, and cuddly!

As Kyan has grown I think Ben and I have been most proud of his perseverance and his intelligence. He is an extremely observant child and will watch things very closely until he figures out how they work. His memory is amazing! He remembers things you promised him a week ago and holds you to it :)

Kyan was born in Hawaii and had his first birthday there. One of the reasons we came back to Oregon can be easily explained through that birthday party...It was about 8 adults and 0 children. We loved our friends there so much, but we didn't have family or friends with kids for Kyan to grow with. You can see that his second birthday, in Oregon, was a bit different:

The most amazing thing about Kyan recently, and there are so many amazing things, is his acceptance of and love for his brothers. Kyan's third birthday party had to be postponed because Mommy was in the hospital in pre-term labor. Mommy was in the hospital or in bed quite a lot for quite awhile and it was really, really hard for Kyan. I expected him to hold some sort of grudge against the twins when they arrived; I mean they caused us some serious trouble in utero and they really upended Kyan's life. Amazingly, however, he has never shown a bit of jealousy or animosity toward them. Even now they make his life more difficult, but he never gets upset at them (at me, yes, but not them).

I know I am so lucky to have three beautiful boys that I can love this much, but Kyan will always be my first born...my heart was lost to him on the day he was born, and though I willingly share it with my other boys, and will always love them just as much, he will always be my little baby boy...Um, I'm sorry, my BIG BOY!

My Mason...

Here's the thing about Mason: he looks at you like you are the only person in the entire world who matters. Not only that, the truly significant thing is that he really looks at you. His eyes communicate so clearly and his sweet little voice just tries to gurgle out, but it gets caught in this nasally drawl.

If Ronan is an old soul then Mason is brand spankin' new. He is completely unsure of the world around him, though he knows who he loves. Mason is not the easy one; he is very needy. I think this comes from his insecurities; he is not happy unless he knows exactly where his Mama is. The thing is, though, that as long as he knows exactly where I am, he is so happy and so at ease. He smiles these HUGE twinkling smiles.

Mason was born first, so I held him for fifteen minutes while they worked on getting Ronan out (he was breech). I just kept looking at him in awe and joy, so that when they told me to push Ronan out it was a bit surreal; it was like, "wait, I already have him."

bonding with Mason

Once they handed Ronan to me, who as a consequence of the rather traumatic breech extraction looked like a very angry old man, I suddenly had to turn my attention from this little person with whom I had just connected and meet my other little guy.

Meeting the angry old man :)

I kept looking back and forth and then I started to feel guilty because I couldn't just stare at Ronan the way I had at Mason; I was so worried that I already liked one more than the other.

I was so worked up about it, in fact, that I had Ben take Mason from me so that I could take a minute to connect just with Ronan. It only took a minute before I felt the connection with him, too. The thing is, however, that Mason radiates connection; it's like his aura is screaming, "please connect with me; I love you!"

Tonight when I put him to bed he was staring into my eyes. When I say staring, I mean STARING, almost the way one stares into the eyes of a lover. He looks into me with this sweet, trusting innocence that breaks my heart every time; seriously, I get tears of happiness and love in my eyes. When he stares he tries to gurgle out his meaning with sound, but it is like a whisper while his eyes are screaming his heart out.

It is amazing to see how different these two little boys are. I can't wait to watch them grow, side by side, into completely different people. One thing I have learned so far, being a mom of twins, is that the personality of the child himself dictates everything. I can do the exact same thing with one that I do with the other, but the outcome will be totally different, because their personalities are totally different. It's actually a reassuring feeling. I have always looked for ways to blame Kyan's shortcomings or bad behavior on myself: If I had only shown him this instead, or if I had prepared him better for the transition etc.. I've tried to do that with the twins, only to realize that it worked just fine for one, but not for the other. It's a good thing I'm a teacher and have studied Howard Gardner's "Multiple Intelligences" and worked on teaching to the individual, because truly I am going to have to tailor my parenting to each of these two teeming personalities!
So, here's to my sweet, innocent, little newbie; to my Mason John.

Life Inside the Womb

I have, to present to you, unequivocal proof that a child's behavior inside the womb will be expressed outside the womb as well. This, my friends, is Ronan:

 

This picture was taken during the second of my five pre-delivery hospital visits. This visit, thankfully, did not last more than a few hours. When the technician took this picture we both laughed for a good minute at least. She said she had never seen an ultrasound picture like it. In fact, during one of my later hospital visits I mentioned the picture to a different ultrasound technician and she had actually seen and heard all about it. Apparently Ronan's antics were passed around the staff room for a good laugh. 

That, in and of itself, is a very clear indication of where Ronan is going in life. This boy has huge, saucer-like eyes that bug out at any provocation:

In addition to his adorable eyes and their expressiveness, this boy can talk like no other 11 week old baby I've ever met! He lies on the floor under his little gym toy and goes to town, babbling away like he has an audience hanging on his every word. When I change his diaper his legs go straight up into the air, just like in the ultrasound photo. Those legs... I'm telling you, this boy loves his legs. They are LONG legs for a little guy and they are super skinny, too. When he's sitting in his bouncer he kicks those legs so hard that his socks come right off. It's as if he is certain he will get somewhere eventually. 

From day one, this boy made us laugh. Just one look at his cute little bug eyes and the expressions he can come up with is enough to send us over the edge. Not to mention the way he FEROCIOUSLY attacks whatever comes near his mouth...whether it be a pacifier, a nipple, Kyan's nose, Mason's arm...he even talks like he is trying to somehow suckle the air in front of his face!

 

What is most amazing, however, about this little guy is that he seems to be a very, very old soul. A woman in an ice cream shop recently said that to me as soon as she glanced his way; she said it in surprise and wonder. I usually don't listen to the myriad of comments I get about the twins from the entire population of our humble city, but this one mirrored my own thoughts. 

Ronan seems completely at ease with the world. It seems like he has been here and done this many times before. I mean, he was doing the pike position IN THE WOMB. If that's not proof that he's been here before then I don't know what is.

Ronan is the mellow one, or so we say, but when this boy is hungry there is NOTHING mellow about him. He screams with a ferocity and in a pitch that brings me running every time. The other day I was positive that something was attacking him, even though I knew that he had been crying in hunger just moments before. I find this to be more proof that he has done this before. It's like he knows that useless crying doesn't get him anywhere, and that a little fussing is way too easy to ignore. So, the boy doesn't fuss or cry unless he means business.

I knew when I saw that picture on the ultrasound screen that we would have a few laughs with that little guy (and, yes, at that point there was NO question as to his gender...) Here's to my little clown...Ronan Thomas.

The Family Goes to the Farmer's Market

I believe in supporting our local economy, and more than anything I believe in consuming food that is grown responsibly. I have been shopping organically whenever possible for as long as I can remember, but it wasn't until I read the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, that I truly understood the importance of eating local food. I have since lent Kingsolver's book to countless friends and family members and I have even taught the book to a group of Seniors in my English class. I can't say I converted the whole lot of them, but I affected quite a few, which felt like success to me!
So, I certainly want my sons to know where their food comes from and, even more importantly, know why it is so important to know where your food comes from! With this in mind we take an almost weekly trek to one of the many local farmer's markets. We live in an area that can boast quite a number of farmer's markets, and an amazing array of local food. As you can imagine, however, a trek anywhere with two month old twins and a three year old is an adventure!
We took this trek for the first time when the twins were two weeks old. It was my first adventure outside of the house after four months of bed rest and two weeks of recovering from child birth. I was nervous, but I had been lying in bed for months imagining what might be at the market this week that I was missing out on, so I really wanted to go.
Today's trip was a lot easier than that first one. We are becoming old pros at traveling with our brood! It all starts with loading us all into the van:

Kyan even snapped a picture of Ben getting things in the back of the van. The picture is actually quite nice...a budding photographer?

Once we were on our way things were great...until we parked the van and I got Ronan out of his car seat only to realize that he was sitting in a pool of poo...yep, a blow out! Luckily our van is an amazing vehicle that is MADE for us! So, I popped up the (changing) table and began damage control:

Now this is not exactly what the makers of the Eurovan had in mind when they designed this fabulous little table. More likely they imagined quaint campers sipping hot cocoa with their camp lanterns on their heads and playing cards, but we are a creative family and we have made this van our own!
While I changed Ronan's diaper Kyan was playing in the stroller:

Finally, Ronan was clean and we were on our way to meet our neighbors Lindsey and Quinn. Once we found them Lindsey and I were in desperate need of food, she being pregnant, and myself being a nursing mother of two. So we left Kyan and Quinn with Ben and went off with the twins to find food! While we were gone the kids had a great time dancing to the music and exploring the park with Ben:

When Lindsey and I returned we had done a quick but thorough job at procuring a healthy and delicious lunch (and then some):

After lunch we were on our way to buy veggies and other delights for the week ahead. In theory this is the part where I would talk to Kyan about the farmers and their hard work to bring us the food that keeps us healthy and strong, and in truth, before the twins came along I managed to do this now and then. The reality now, however, is that there is so much going on keeping the kids in check and pushing my Hummer of a stroller through the throngs of people, that I am literally running in and out of stalls and I am lucky if I manage to get out of there with ANY vegetables at all. I suppose I'll save the farmer talk for the dinner table.

Kyan and Quinn were further distracted by the fabulous octopus balloons that the balloon man made for them. Once the two of them perched at the foot of the stroller my wide load had reached titanic proportions!

Notice the heads turning to watch us pass and the wide space around us?
It seems that wherever I go, even if I only have the twins, let alone Kyan and Quinn AND the octopus balloons in tow, I draw stares and FAR more comments than I have time for. The most common being, "My, you've got your hands full," in several varying arrangements. Why yes, I do. Thank you for noticing.

In the end Quinn and Kyan got pretty tired, I never found my sugar snap peas, and we had a minor tantrum over kettle corn, but all in all it was a good trip. There were no huge lessons for Kyan today, but I truly believe that living a sustainable life and having the market as a part of our routine is teaching our son the value of the food on his plate and the people in his community. Maybe one day he, too, will be lugging far too many children around a crowded market just to get an extra tasty batch of sustainably grown green beans and some fabulous Oregon berries!

I am...

I am many things. I will not quibble over which of these things is more important, but I will say that the majority of my life right now is focused on just one of those things: I am the mother of three boys.

I think it is true that most women who anticipate having children cannot help but fantasize about putting their little girl in pig tails for the first time and teaching her to love herself and her body and preparing her to thrive in a man’s world (which she, by the way, will single handedly transform into a women’s world with her independent, witty, and magical influence). I will freely admit that I was one of these women. So, when I imagined the other alternative, having a boy, I did not dread it by any means, I simply did not have a preordained dialogue about it in my head.

I have a cousin who has three boys and a best friend who has four boys. Both of them started their families long before I did. I used to bring them both up in polite conversation with other women; my reference almost, but not quite, bordering on a “see what could happen to you” commentary. I can’t say what I thought was so scary about having a brood of boys, and perhaps it wasn’t that it was scary to me, it was, again, that I didn’t have a story in my head to go along with it. I imagine this is because I am a woman and as a woman it is possible that I may have wanted to redo my own life through the life of my daughter. Come to think of it, maybe all mothers of daughters feel that way and maybe that is one of the inherent problems between mothers and daughters, because you must admit most mothers and daughters have some issues, but I digress…

Right before I entered the room to have the gender determining ultrasound with my first pregnancy, I heard the patient ahead of me find out that she was having a girl. When I listened to that discovery, her happiness, her husband’s nervous laugh, the doctor’s congratulations, I knew that I would not get the same news. I knew in my heart that I was having a boy. It was even possible that I knew in my heart that I would never get the news that I was having a girl. So when the doctor brought up the screen that, not so subtly, showed the sex of our unborn baby, and let us read the results for ourselves rather than declaring it for us, I expected to feel a sense of defeat or sadness, but I felt nothing of the sort. Instead I felt the “mother” in me for the first time. I felt my hackles raise to defend my unborn son against the part of me that I expected to be lamenting that this child would never have pig tails. That part of me only lasted long enough to say goodbye to that cute pair of brown and pink mary janes I had seen just the other day. I loved my son. That was all. No argument. No lamenting. Thank you very much.

So, when we considered the option of having another baby I, of course, knew that there would be some part of me wishing for a girl, especially since I already had THE perfect little boy. However, I also knew that I was wiser now and knew that the sex of my baby did not matter nearly so much as the health of my baby. Though I will interject to admit that, upon finding out I was actually having TWO babies, I said to my mom, “If one of these babies is not a girl I will cry!” I was pretty sure one of them was a girl. I insisted that I felt it; you know, the feminine manifestation of my second chance on life. So when the ultrasound technician declared that Baby B was a boy, I knew that meant that Baby A was a girl. It took her awhile to get A to show its stuff, but when it did “it” was a he, too. Again, I expected this rush of regret and pain…how would the world ever be reclaimed from its male domination if I could not birth and raise the perfect daughter…and, again I was wrong. I did say to the technician, and my husband (who weren’t actually listening to me), “Really? So, I will never have a daughter? Really?” And, just like that, it didn’t matter. Maybe my boys could change the world; In fact, I was sure that they would.  I immediately began imagining myself as the Queen of England proudly declaring that I was delivering, not one, but TWO heirs for my royal husband, in addition to the one I had already produced. (So I read a bit too much historical fiction…)

Now, as I sit typing, my boys are still so tiny that there is no telling what they will do for the world. My three year old, Kyan, is strong, confident, dramatic, and very intelligent. My twin boys are only 10 weeks old, but already I see who they may one day become. Mason is sweet, sensitive, and loving. Ronan is silly, outgoing, and at ease with the world. I can’t say I ever imagined myself with three boys. I wouldn’t have known how to imagine that. I didn’t have a script in my head that prepared me for this, but the lines are slowly writing themselves. Only yesterday I shook my head and twisted my stroller pushing hands together as I watched my 3 year old balanced on the tip of my husband’s skateboard as they both took off down the street (wearing helmets, thank you very much!). I explained to a neighbor as I passed that I did not approve of this activity! Yet, I watched also with a sense of pride…maybe this physical precipice that young boys seem to walk upon is their necessary journey…one that I can’t quite understand because it was never mine. Maybe my husband was looking at my boy’s little skate shoes as I looked at the pink and brown mary janes, and seeing his bravery on the skateboard as I would see a daughter’s confidence in her physical self. All I know for sure is that there is nothing, NOTHING, so beautiful as my three little boys.