Playtime at the Playplace

A lot of people ask me if the girls recognize each other and play together. Do they ever.  Well, I suppose you could call it “playing”.  It’s more like this…

Hello, Nora and Tessa.  How’s it going?  Looks like you two are playing together.

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Yes, mom.  We each have a toy to chew on.  It’s great fun.  We love toys.

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Hey!  Tessa thinks that the toy Nora is holding looks like more fun than this green bowl.  Could I play with that toy?

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Lemme see that toy.  That is not a question.  It’s a statement.

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If I could just get a hold of that toy.  It would be mine.

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I’m getting close…

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Foiled again!

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Now, I am going to make my opinion on this matter known to all.  See the expression on my face?  Nooooot happppppyyyyy….

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Forget about the toys, says Nora.  How about I play with your face!?!?!

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Getting closer…

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What’s going to happen next???

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Was that a flash?  Oh, hello mother.  We forgot you were there.

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The toy is mine.  Sorry baby Tessa.  Better luck next time.

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So, that’s playtime/grabfest on Walmer Street.  Just wait until you see the battle that goes on in the stroller…

TESSA CRAWLS!

It’s official.  It may be a belly-draggin’, deep gruntin’, pseudo-rollin’, army crawl—but it is definitely a Point-A-to-Point-B mode of transportation.

Congratulations, Tess.  We are baby-proofing this weekend.

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In other news…

NORA FLIES!

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…with a little help from Aunt Gana.

Weathering the Weather

I love spring.  Fall is my favorite season but I do love the spring.  The glorious feel of warm air on your bear skin after so many months of layers and layers of clothing is unbeatable.

For what seemed like months and months we’ve been bundling up with big sweaters, thick socks, hats, hoods and gloves.  You’d think we lived in the arctic tundra instead of just Kansas City…

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Hello?  Are these kids about to go walk (crawl–ok wiggle, really) on the moon???

Finally, spring is upon us.–the buds are budding, the leaves are sprouting, the daffodils are popping and we’ve busted out the summer gear.  It’s time for sunglasses and sandals, bonnets and beachgear.

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Summer fun–bring it on!

A good-bye to Grandpa Bailey

My grandpa, Morris Everett Bailey, died this morning. Grandpa would have been 92 this April. He lived a good, long life in Nebraska as a husband, a farmer, a mason, a father, a grandpa and a great-grandpa.

My memories of my Grandpa are filled with jolly laughs, kisses sweet with chewing tobacco and a fiery spirit.

Morgana and I used to spend a couple of weeks in the summer with Grandma and Grandpa and during the year we would see them what seemed like about once a month. During our visits Gana and I would kick around the old dirt roads of Schuyler.

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We’d help light the fire in the trash can to burn the trash away so only flickering ashes were left. We’d visit the neighbors and play with their kittens and dogs and poke at the minnows in Norvall’s broken down ice chest. We’d wander along the cornfields that edged our grandparents property.

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We’d play kickball in the basement of their house. We’d help pick sour cherries from the cherry trees. We’d skip down to the local filling station and buy candy bars. We’d ride on three-wheelers with our cousins. We’d pull dusty bikes out of the basement and ride around the quiet streets of Schuyler.

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We’d go swimming.

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We’d have “dinner” for lunch and “supper” for dinner. We’d go down to the dimestore and play with the plastic toys and stop by Don’s Bakery on the way home. We’d get stuck waiting for the train to go by on the way home.

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We’d play with the plastic fruit and gingerly touch the coveted “roadrunner” broaches Grandma kept in their bedroom. We’d look in the makeup mirror that would magnify in exponential measure any blemish or mark you had on your face. We’d play Uno. Grandpa’s hearing aid was constantly beeping. He would yell “Helloooo!” into the phone, followed by the high pitched chirping of the hearing aids he always wore. Once he fell asleep with the TV remote in his hand and just kept turning the channels and turning the channels in his sleep. It was hilarious. During the fourth of July we’d go down to the park and watch the fireworks and eat ice cream and drink pop.

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At Thanksgiving Grandma would pull out a table so long that it stretched nearly the entire length of their living room and we’d scoop up handfuls of nuts and mints until we were sick (literally). During holidays and birthdays we’d unwrap presents and have cake or pie. Grandma always said she’d put bricks on our heads to keep us from growing up too fast. I wonder what Grandma and Grandpa would say about my girls now…

I always remember crying when we’d leave to go home. It was fun there. And we loved our grandparents.

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Schuyler, Nebraska is a different place now. New families have moved in and the old farmers have died off and many of their kids and grandkids have left for bigger towns. The dimestore and Don’s Bakery are gone. Grandpa’s house provides a roof for another family, another generation. But for me Schuyler will always be the middle-America town that I used to love—a place of youth and innocence and fun during our summers as kids.

After Grandma died we’d take trips to the cemetery to see her tombstone. On Saturday, Grandpa will be laid to rest next to her. Finally they will be reunited after 12 long years apart. I’m happy for their reunion. As grandparents they could not have loved us more. We’ll miss you, Grandpa Bailey. Love you.

A little one on one time…

In the seven (plus) months we’ve been with the girls, it is rare that I’ve only been with one girl at a time.  When they were first born I would take one out for a bit–like to Target or church–while someone watched the other, and then I would alternate and take the other somewhere else.  But they were so little then and now that their little personalities are really blossoming, it’s a whole new ballgame.

A couple of weeks ago something funny happened.  When I put the girls down for a nap on Saturday Nora wasn’t tired and just played in her crib grabbing her toes and giggling.  After about 20 minutes I scooped her up and sat down in the big rocking chair in the nursery with a couple of toys.  We just hung out with a stuffed monkey and a couple of books while Tessa slept.  It was so neat.  Normally, it is tough when both babies don’t nap at the same time but this was such a unique opportunity to bond with Nora that I couldn’t pass it up.  It was great.

Later that afternoon–you guessed it–Nora was zonked and Tess was gearing to play.  It was cool outside but partly sunny and so we spread out a blanket in the backyard and just played and played.  It was great Tessa time.  Luckily, I got some pictures.

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Such sweet babies.  And such a treat to get to know each one better, separate from her sister.

I have always maintained that I would treat the girls as individuals–like sisters.  I imagine that it is difficult as a twin to break apart from your “twinness” from the “unit” that is the two of you.  It’s even more difficult as a parent of twins to find the time, the energy to know my girls separately as I have come to know them together.  But it is so so important.  It was a great lesson to learn that weekend.  And such a sweet treat.

A day in the park…

This weekend brought warmer weather and a day at the park for the family.  A first of many times.  We had some lunch and hopped on the swings for a great time.  It was so much fun.

Nora:

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Mom and Nora:

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Tess:

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It’s almost baseball season…Yippee!

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Framable…

We take hundreds of pictures of the girls.  The beautiful thing about a digital camera is you can take so many pictures and pick and choose what you want to print (or post).  It’s terrific.  There are so many pictures that it’s hard to choose what to keep and what to cut.

For example, keep:

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Cut:

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All in all, we have some great shots.  These are a few worth framing:

Baby Love…

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Tessa and her rattle…

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Tess stands tall…

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