Hit Me!

A brilliant piece of advice Nate and I received from his coworker, Josh: Get the twins boxing gloves for Christmas. You see, Josh and his brother were given boxing gloves as children and were instructed to "fight it out" when they were feeling confrontational.

We found a close substitute for boxing gloves, the Hulk Hands. And they're way funnier looking. And they make growling noises. "Hulk mad! GRRR. You won't like me when I'm angry!"

When the kids get testy toward each other, Nate and I reach for the handy dandy Hulk Hands and next thing you know, the kids are having fun and can't remember why they're fighting in the first place.

Best case scenario - they gang up and beat the crap out of Daddy. Way to work together as a team, boys!

It's Working, It's Working!

So, the sticker chart was the best decision I've ever made. For ONE MONTH STRAIGHT, I've had the pleasure of taking two wonderful kids to school each morning. If whining begins, I remind them that they need a Cookie Monster sticker to go next to the Oscar sticker they earned the morning before. Lickety split, that does the trick. They'll even behave for a simple, plain yellow star sticker.

So, I'm getting to work on time, sometimes early, sometimes even early enough to stop by Starbucks, because Mom needs her "sticker" too, right?

Life is good, and it's Friday, so we're heading for ice cream in a few short minutes.

The Best Part of Waking Up...

...is a smiling child. Or two.

Mornings have been rough - really, really rough - at the Reynolds household. Nate leaves for work before the rest of us get up. So I'm left - totally outnumbered - to get two temper-tantrum-minded toddlers ready, feed the dog and stray cats, and get myself reasonably presentable for another day at the office. I am habitually 5-10 minutes late every day. Thank God I don't have to clock in at my job.

Out of desperation, I created a chart on which the twins can earn stickers that lead to ice cream at the end of the week. And, so far, it's working! We instituted the chart almost two weeks ago, and I've had almost two weeks of wonderful, peaceful mornings. It makes me thankful for these great mornings when shoes get put on dutifully, animals are happy (because it's quiet!), faces are smiling, and I have plenty of spare moments for the important stuff - hugs, conversations, laughs.

Plus, as most people know, I'm a morning person. So I really like things to go smoothly in the morning so I can continue with the happy mood in which I awoke.

So, cross your fingers, say a prayer and wish me luck that the ice cream chart will continue to motivate the twins and keep me from pulling my hair out.

For Those About to Rock

Nate and I got each other a Wii for Christmas. So did Jenni and Brian. That escaladed into the wonderous discovery of Rock Band.

Oh, Rock Band, how we love you. We spent hours and hours rocking out New Year's Eve, trading instruments and fighting over who had to sing the crappy heavy metal songs. Even the kids got into it with their own guitars (thanks, Kelby!), drums, keyboard - you name it, we were representing into the wee hours of the night. The kids were thrown so far off schedule they didn't know what day it was. But it's worth it every now and then.

Happy New Year!

Learning a Thing or Two

I'm in the marketing profession, and I could never in a million years come up with the catchy slogans and phrases the twins throw around.

I could learn a thing or two, because they're on to something. Their phrases either get our attention or woo us into doing what they say.

That's marketing at its finest.

My favorites:

"I want to hold you!"

"There's a chicken in my ear."

"Oh, Jesus." (Part of a song we sing at church.)

More to come when I remember them.

Ho Ho Ho

After being vehmently terrified of the whole Santa concept, the twins changed their minds Christmas morning when they got 800 new presents.

Christmas was busy but wonderful. Family, food, cranky napless twins. Doesn't get much better.

Their favorite gifts were probably their cowboy boots and cowboy hats from Grandpa Johnson. They got dinosaurs, cars, an awesome kitchen, games, etc. etc...

Now, a week after Christmas, the twins are singing "Santa Clause is Coming to Town," a previously banned song due to the Santa phobia, in hopes Santa will come again. Hmmm. How do you explain to a 2-year-old that it ain't gonna happen?

I'm Thankful For...

I'm thankful for the first successful road trip since the kids were born. We went to Grammi and Papa GB's house for Thanksgiving - a 6-plus hour trip - and E and O were darn-near perfect BOTH ways. We were so proud of them and so happy to have a relaxing Thanksgiving weekend away from home. Plus, the trip managed to improve their level of potty-training. We thought it would do the opposite, but Owen is almost completely trustworthy in his big-boy Elmo underwear and rather enjoyed the public restroom adventures.

We went to the Fort Worth zoo - E and O's first REAL look at their favorite animals, since Amarillo's zoo features mostly the barnyard variety of animals. Elephants, zebras, giraffes. They had a blast. The weather was beautiful, and we had the park to ourselves because we were smart enough to go on Thanksgiving day. We had Grammi's big T-giving feast on Friday. Great weekend!

New President, Changing Times

On November 4, we were glued to the TV as Senator Barack Obama beat out Senator John McCain in the race for the White House. In January, he will become the first black president in U.S. history. He proposes many changes to the country, many of which Nate and I worry about when it comes to the twins' future. Will we be able to afford to send them to the college of their choice?

Of course, the twins weren't one bit interested in the election. They wanted to watch Dancing With The Stars instead. And they don't understand the big deal about a black president. To the young and innocent, color means nothing. E and O play harmoniously with friends of all skin types and economic backgrounds at school. Never in a million years would those kids think twice about befriending someone who didn't look or dress exactly like themselves. When they're older, society will probably teach them to think differently. Sad.

We are hopeful that Obama's term will bring about good things, and we will support our new president as every good U.S. citizen should. It's a basic courtesy too many people did not offer President George W. Bush. Like him or not, we should all respect our president. I want my kids to learn that.

Boo!

October 31st was the twins' first comprehensible Halloween, and BOY, did they love it. Mom made their monkey suits, and we ran up and down the neighborhood until E and O were literally too pooped to party.

I don't know how many people came up to us wanting to take the twins' pictures. Complete strangers! The costumes were really good. Mom should open up a side business. One thing's for certain: We'll never again be content with store-bought costumes. Mom's going to find herself hunkered over the sewing machine every forseeable September.

Night Night, Spank Tight

Bed time has a whole new meaning at the Reynolds house since we implemented BIG BOY BEDS. Of course, we had no choice - Evan and Owen were fully capable of climbing out of their cribs and potentially injuring themselves. But Nate and I long for the days when bed time meant ... well, bed time.

Now, the words "bed time" mean to the twins: "We can bank on at least another 45 minutes of playing in our rooms and acting like monkeys. We can expect Mom and Dad to come in periodically waving their index finger and threatening spankings. Spankings, schmankings. Dad's the only one who can deliver a halfway effective smack. Mom's a push over. And the sting of Dad's spankings wears off quickly, so we can get back to playing in minutes. Maybe we can get in a full hour of rough housing before we fall asleep from sheer exhaustion. NOT because Mom and Dad TOLD us to go to bed."

Gone are the days when bed time meant Nate and I could finally, for a blessed hour and a half or so, sit on the couch and stare at the TV with no one to scold, no one to spank, nothing to clean up, nothing to do but relax.

Sniff. We really miss the old bed time.