<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305</id><updated>2012-01-27T18:10:52.251-06:00</updated><category term='Twins Law'/><category term='photo contest'/><category term='news'/><category term='outside'/><category term='free'/><category term='tribute'/><category term='Color Career Counselor'/><category term='Shedd Aquarium'/><category term='jealousy'/><category term='Phil Lerman'/><category term='nature'/><category term='twins'/><category term='Abraham Lincoln'/><category term='Real Simple'/><category term='Shop it to me'/><category term='Jack Cafferty'/><category term='summer'/><category term='genetic testing'/><category term='Jeff Foxworthy'/><category term='Operation Shower'/><category term='road trips'/><category term='pets'/><category term='I&apos;ll Love You Forever'/><category term='alarm clock'/><category term='neighbors'/><category term='weddings'/><category term='TimeBanks'/><category term='animal rescue site'/><category term='talent'/><category term='engagement'/><category term='weather'/><category term='Vikings Hockey Club'/><category term='rbgh'/><category term='schedules'/><category term='Hallmark'/><category term='Woody Winfree'/><category term='Project Life Change'/><category term='possibilities'/><category term='faith'/><category term='roller coasters'/><category term='jelly beans'/><category term='rain'/><category term='Consumer Reports'/><category term='church'/><category term='college football'/><category term='community supported agriculture'/><category term='routines'/><category term='humidifiers'/><category term='Mom Corps'/><category term='The Emperor&apos;s New Clothes'/><category term='meetings'/><category term='Northern Illinois University'/><category term='Chicago Children&apos;s Theatre'/><category term='Nicor'/><category term='dolls'/><category term='cooking'/><category term='technorati'/><category term='Super Why'/><category term='mail'/><category term='test scores'/><category term='Gnomeo and Juliet'/><category term='Kiss My Math'/><category term='toilet training'/><category term='The Happiness Project'/><category term='Martin Luther King Jr.'/><category term='The Hundred Dresses'/><category term='affordable'/><category term='Chicago Parent'/><category term='nail polish'/><category term='creativity'/><category term='birthdays'/><category term='Peapod'/><category term='charity'/><category term='stores'/><category term='Gary Rubinstein'/><category term='Megan Meier'/><category term='Tide'/><category term='transitions'/><category term='antibiotics'/><category term='optimistic'/><category term='miracles'/><category term='shoes'/><category term='gas prices'/><category term='Poetikat'/><category term='NICU'/><category term='I Want A Hippopotamus for Christmas'/><category term='recycling'/><category term='family reunion'/><category term='Fiary Foals'/><category term='New Moon Girls'/><category term='September 11'/><category term='gift giving'/><category term='piano lessons'/><category term='waterfalls'/><category term='discipline'/><category term='University of Southern California'/><category term='concerts'/><category term='baby sitting'/><category term='washing machine'/><category term='dentist'/><category term='hockey'/><category term='smoke detectors'/><category term='vaccines'/><category term='hungry'/><category term='Ditka&apos;s'/><category term='genes'/><category term='Consumers Union'/><category term='Philadelphia Chicken'/><category term='Snow Dogs'/><category term='dog obedience classes'/><category term='funny'/><category term='gingerbread'/><category term='time change'/><category term='gardens'/><category term='Consumer Union'/><category term='Love/AVON Army of Women'/><category term='Pinocchio'/><category term='bicycles'/><category term='Randy Pausch'/><category term='Parenting the Gifted Child'/><category term='onteenstoday.com'/><category term='strength training'/><category term='I Love You More'/><category term='The Fairy Chronicles'/><category term='hiking'/><category term='Dan Zane'/><category term='baking'/><category term='James R. 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term='walking'/><category term='Independence Day'/><category term='Harris Theater'/><category term='advice'/><category term='advance team'/><category term='observations'/><category term='storms'/><category term='customer service'/><category term='autism'/><category term='Nickelodeon'/><category term='personalities'/><category term='colds'/><category term='family secrets'/><category term='blizzard'/><category term='pottery barn kids'/><category term='compost'/><category term='products'/><category term='right handed'/><category term='Radical Parenting'/><category term='snopes'/><category term='Wonder Pets'/><category term='Barak Obama'/><category term='family time'/><category term='cyber-bulling'/><category term='family theater'/><category term='Disney'/><category term='Spring Break'/><category term='Father&apos;s Day'/><category term='candy'/><category term='Coretta Scott King'/><category term='pearls'/><category term='school supplies'/><category term='heatwave'/><category term='Norad Tracks Santa'/><category term='responsibility'/><category term='Minnesota Wild'/><category term='attention'/><category term='Twice the Love'/><category term='IGo Green'/><category term='Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum and Library'/><category term='winter'/><category term='It&apos;s Hard to be Five'/><category term='lice'/><category term='Rhinoceros Tap'/><category term='couch'/><category term='recalls'/><category term='Motown'/><category term='North Pole'/><category term='Mommy guilt'/><category term='medical research'/><category term='handwriting'/><category term='glitter'/><category term='telephone'/><category term='pants'/><category term='meme'/><category term='Animal Welfare Society'/><category term='tooth fairy'/><category term='UNICEF'/><category term='stress'/><category term='princess'/><category term='traditions'/><category term='reindeer'/><category term='Rose Bowl'/><category term='golf club'/><category term='A Full Cup'/><category term='danger'/><category term='television'/><category term='D-List'/><category term='crayons'/><category term='parents'/><category term='Jersey Boys'/><category term='coyote'/><category term='food'/><category term='surveys'/><category term='santa claus'/><category term='optimism'/><category term='religion'/><category term='vote'/><category term='commuting'/><category term='Center for the Gifted'/><category term='Shift Happens'/><title type='text'>Two Times The Fun</title><subtitle type='html'>General observations about the joys and sleeplessness that comes from being parents of twin girls.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>866</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-94221983673871915</id><published>2012-01-27T09:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T09:13:14.484-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Girl Scouts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leukemia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brownies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Cancer Strikes the Brownie Troop</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When the email came across, I'm guessing no one imagined it was to inform us&amp;nbsp;that Mariyah had leukemia.&amp;nbsp; The girls were at a sleepover birthday party when I received the email.&amp;nbsp; I thought about how to tell them, but they already knew when they came home.&amp;nbsp; The sleepover was at the home of a Brownie Troop leader.&amp;nbsp; She told the girls since her daughter already knew.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Of course the Brownie families are in shock.&amp;nbsp; Mariyah always seemed so healthy.&amp;nbsp; When we talked about her symptoms, there wasn't anything that really jumped out and screamed "She's really sick."&amp;nbsp; Her parents said she was sick quite a bit during the past year, but more like a flu than anything else.&amp;nbsp; Her doctor decided she had been sick too often and admitted her to the local children's hospital to run a bunch of tests.&amp;nbsp; When those all came back negative, he said, "We have to consider this possibility and run the tests."&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It scares all of us as parents.&amp;nbsp; Even as we rally to create a calendar filled with ways we can support them from cards to a basket of videos to taking her sister to troop activities, we're all aware that this is a long haul.&amp;nbsp; Mariyah is currently in the hospital for her first round of chemotherapy.&amp;nbsp; Her treatment schedule will take between thirty and thirty-six months to complete, assuming each portion goes well.&amp;nbsp; Any complications will lengthen the schedule.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The prognosis is good, but this is with her for life now.&amp;nbsp; I recently read an article about the long-term health complications of childhood cancer survivors.&amp;nbsp; "Normal and healthy" isn't really an option in their lives.&amp;nbsp; It's more like "in long-term remission."&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The Brownies are taking it better than the parents.&amp;nbsp; I think it's one of the advantages of being young.&amp;nbsp; They know she's sick, but in their world parents and doctors fix everything.&amp;nbsp; The most they all know about being sick is the occasional ear infection that is cured with some icky medicine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;For us parents it's just frightening on so many levels.&amp;nbsp; We're banding together to help Mariyah's family and holding our own daughters a little tighter while saying a prayer that they stay healthy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-94221983673871915?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/94221983673871915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=94221983673871915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/94221983673871915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/94221983673871915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2012/01/cancer-strikes-brownie-troop.html' title='Cancer Strikes the Brownie Troop'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-4456322119706115432</id><published>2012-01-23T09:45:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T09:46:09.782-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coretta Scott King'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Abraham Lincoln'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='history'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='age'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Martin Luther King Jr.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Me &amp; Abe Splitting Rails</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls are studying about Martin Luther King, Jr.&amp;nbsp;in school.&amp;nbsp; When we drove home from church yesterday, I told them about the time I met his wife, Coretta Scott King, at a conference.&amp;nbsp; I was on the board of the group so I had the opportunity to sit with her at dinner and talk about many different topics.&amp;nbsp; The girls were very excited about their connection to history.&amp;nbsp; They had lots of questions, which I answered as best as I could.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;After the conversation slowed, the blond twin said, "Have you met anyone else famous?"&amp;nbsp; I told&amp;nbsp; her I met some other people she might study about and when they started learning about them, I'd tell them those stories.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She said, "Well, we're learning about Abraham Lincoln.&amp;nbsp; Did you ever meet him?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I protested, "I'm not that old.&amp;nbsp; He died more than 100 years ago."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She calmly replied, "Oh, did you ever meet his children or anyone in his family?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I said, "No.&amp;nbsp; I have no connections to Abraham Lincoln."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She said, "That's okay.&amp;nbsp; It's so interesting that you meet Coretta Scott King. I'm going to tell my teacher at school tomorrow."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She and her sister started a new conversation about what game to play at home.&amp;nbsp; As we drove home and all I kept thinking was "the blond twin thinks I'm old enough to have met Abraham Lincoln."&amp;nbsp; A day later I'm not sure I've recovered from the fact that she thinks I'm that old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-4456322119706115432?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/4456322119706115432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=4456322119706115432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4456322119706115432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4456322119706115432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2012/01/me-abe-splitting-rails.html' title='Me &amp; Abe Splitting Rails'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7602906307279551604</id><published>2012-01-21T08:47:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T21:53:03.476-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleepover'/><title type='text'>The Joys of Sleepovers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls just started sleeping at friends' houses.&amp;nbsp; They've spent the night with their cousins since they were infants.&amp;nbsp; They are completely comfortable spending the night with any relative.&amp;nbsp; They just started spending the night at their friends' houses and so far, so good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We like this development.&amp;nbsp; Whenever the girls spend the night somewhere, we have a night to ourselves.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes we go out to dinner or to see a movie.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes we just stay home and watch TV in our qiuet house.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Of course, we do reciprocate, but it's not the same for those parents.&amp;nbsp; When their friends spend the night, their parents still have one or more children at home. When the girls spend the night, we have a quiet house.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This is one of those times when having twins is an advantage over have two children of different ages.&amp;nbsp; It's an advantage we're enjoying greatly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7602906307279551604?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7602906307279551604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7602906307279551604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7602906307279551604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7602906307279551604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2012/01/joys-of-sleepovers.html' title='The Joys of Sleepovers'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-546698208542799549</id><published>2012-01-20T08:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T08:34:40.236-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='car'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='number'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='license plates'/><title type='text'>Learning a New Number</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Since I bought my first car ( a baby blue Pinto from my Aunt Linda), I've had the same license plate number.&amp;nbsp; When we married, my license plates moved to the car my husband currently drives.&amp;nbsp; I've had numerous home and work phone numbers, different addresses and different bank account numbers.&amp;nbsp; I've always had the same license plate number.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Last night someone stole my license plates as our car sat in the train station parking lot.&amp;nbsp; My husband completed the required police report.&amp;nbsp; Today he's planning to get new license plates.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now I have to learn a new license plate number.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Actually, I have to learn two license plate numbers.&amp;nbsp; I drive a mini-van with his license plates on it. I've never learned those numbers. Whenever someone asks, I have to go out and write down the number. Really, how often do you need to know your license plate number?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Still, there's something sad about knowing that my plates are probably being used on a car involved in activities the driver doesn't want traced back to him/her.&amp;nbsp; With my luck, we'll be watching the news one night and the announcer will say a car with my plates was involved in a crime.&amp;nbsp; Ick.&amp;nbsp; Ick.&amp;nbsp; Ick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I realize there are worse things than having your license plates stolen.&amp;nbsp; It's just a little odd to think that a number I've had since I was 16 is no longer mine.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-546698208542799549?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/546698208542799549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=546698208542799549' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/546698208542799549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/546698208542799549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2012/01/learning-new-number.html' title='Learning a New Number'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-4855297618926069585</id><published>2012-01-16T10:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T10:04:33.665-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self control'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='talking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school policies'/><title type='text'>X Marks the Spot</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls brought home their second quarter report cards last Thursday.&amp;nbsp; As expected, their marks were good, except for the brunette twin's "work habits and social skills."&amp;nbsp; In that area, the brunette twin had an X for "demonstrates self control."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Of course this concerned us so I immediately emailed their teacher.&amp;nbsp; Today she responded with "She's a hard worker and good student.&amp;nbsp; She just spends too much time talking.&amp;nbsp; She needs to stay on task and not talk to her group so much."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I laughed when I read her email.&amp;nbsp; My husband laughed when I told him.&amp;nbsp; Given that the brunette twin recently declared talking as her favorite hobby, this is not surprising news. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We will work with her on it because the teacher brought the issue to our attention.&amp;nbsp; Still, it was good for a laugh this morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-4855297618926069585?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/4855297618926069585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=4855297618926069585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4855297618926069585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4855297618926069585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2012/01/x-marks-spot.html' title='X Marks the Spot'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-6383245584963330734</id><published>2012-01-14T13:09:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T13:10:07.524-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='golf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-confidence'/><title type='text'>Driving Towards Self-Confidence</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Originally Published on the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://thechicagomoms.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Chicago Moms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt; blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When our girls arrive at a driving range to hit balls, people look at them with the “isn’t that cute” look. I agree that it is really cute to see them carrying their golf bags as they head towards the practice mats. I saw that look again when we arrived at the covered sports dome in our area. Several retired men and one woman were hitting golf balls across the astroturf that doubles as a soccer field. They stopped and gave the “so cute” half smile when the girls walked by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls took out their clubs and started hitting balls. The “isn’t that cute” look on the man practicing his putting behind us turned dark when I critiqued their efforts with an annoyed clip of “Focus. Line up the ball. Keep control of your club. Make an effort, please?” Now the retired man behind me was giving me a disapproving look. It was clear that he thought I was being too hard on the girls. After all, what did I expect from such young girls? At least, that’s what I’m sure he would have said if I had been talking to him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Our brunette twin responded by whacking the ball across the AstroTurf. It arched. It floated. It went far. It was pretty to watch. It was what I had watched her do many, many times during her golf lessons. I knew that was what her practice shots should look like.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I said, “That is pretty. It is exactly how I know you can hit it. Now do it again.” She proceeded to hit four or five just like it with a big smile on her face. The girl can golf when she makes an effort and she knows it. Of course, she also knows she’ll get compliments from strangers just because she’s a young girl on a golf course. I’ve stood there when people tell her what a nice job she’s doing when she takes a terrible stroke. I disagree — just because she’s on the golf course doesn’t mean she deserves a compliment — but I don’t say anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I’m happy to compliment our girls, but they have to earn it. They don’t live in a house where we tell them they are perfect or that everything they do is wonderful. We push them to the limits of their abilities because we think they can do it. Until they achieve something, they don’t hear empty praise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Too often I hear parents telling their children that everything they do is great, perfect, wonderful, awesome. I’m all for building their self confidence, but real self-confidence comes from earning praise through real effort. Notice I didn’t say earning praise comes through success. Our girls don’t always succeed, but at least they truly try.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;There’s no point making them think that think that they will get anything without hard work and focus. When they truly earn something, we celebrate. When they need help, we provide it. In between, we teach them that only through learning and practice will they get to be good at anything. As I watched the girls hit golf balls across the astroturf, I knew they understood the lesson, even if they didn’t understand how important it was yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-6383245584963330734?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/6383245584963330734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=6383245584963330734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6383245584963330734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6383245584963330734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2012/01/driving-towards-self-confidence.html' title='Driving Towards Self-Confidence'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-1565095715068380169</id><published>2012-01-11T10:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T10:58:18.584-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Disney'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='princess'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>To Princess or Not to Princess</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We're headed to the Magic Kingdom soon and will be having lunch with the Disney princesses.&amp;nbsp; This sent the girls into decision mode.&amp;nbsp; Should they dress as princesses?&amp;nbsp; Or are they too grown up for princess dresses?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;At first they were firm in their decision not to dress as princesses.&amp;nbsp; They decided that they were too old to wear a princess dress.&amp;nbsp; Of course, the fact that the second grade girls made fun of other girls wearing princess costumes for Halloween probably influenced their decision.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Last week they changed their minds.&amp;nbsp; They decided that they needed to be princesses after all.&amp;nbsp; The local Disney store doesn't carry dresses in their sizes, so we turned to eBay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I had to influence their princess choices based upon the dress sizes available, but eBay had dresses to fit them.&amp;nbsp; Last night they tried on the dresses and giggled the whole time.&amp;nbsp; These aren't the official Disney versions, but they are still adorable dresses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I have to admit I'm glad they decided to wear princess dresses.&amp;nbsp; Too soon they will be considered too old to wear princess dresses.&amp;nbsp; I strongly believe they should do everything each age allows.&amp;nbsp; They will grow up fast enough.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-1565095715068380169?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/1565095715068380169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=1565095715068380169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1565095715068380169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1565095715068380169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2012/01/to-princess-or-not-to-princess.html' title='To Princess or Not to Princess'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7368840647306691454</id><published>2012-01-10T11:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T11:28:26.739-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blond'/><title type='text'>Another Day, Another Blond Moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The blond twin was putting her dishes in the dishwasher after breakfast when I said her name loudly.&amp;nbsp; She completely ignored me -- shocking, I know that a child would ignore her mother.&amp;nbsp; She had her not-quite-empty juice glass in her hand.&amp;nbsp; As she started to turn over the glass, I saw Oreo licking the inside of the dishwasher door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I was just a step or two away from being able to pull the dog away from the dishwasher when she poured a bit of her juice on his head.&amp;nbsp; I said, "Really?&amp;nbsp; Didn't you see the dog licking the dishwasher door?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She said, "No, but now he'll smell good."&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I just sighed and tried to get the juice off his head.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;She smiled and ran upstairs to brush her teeth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I know it's a negative stereotype, but some days she is just so very, very blond.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7368840647306691454?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7368840647306691454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7368840647306691454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7368840647306691454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7368840647306691454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2012/01/another-day-another-blond-moment.html' title='Another Day, Another Blond Moment'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-349598775036321095</id><published>2012-01-09T07:47:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T11:32:36.334-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='danger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Throwing Caution to the Wind</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The blond twin is a danger to herself. She is constantly close to hurting herself because she's not paying attention. She's either walking into something or tripping on something or dropping something on her feet because her mind is one place and her body is another.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Last night we were making whipped cream when I let the girls taste it in the bowl.&amp;nbsp;The brunette twin stuck her finger on the side of the bowl and swiped some whipping cream.&amp;nbsp;The blond twin stuck her finger in the middle of the moving mixer blades.&amp;nbsp;As her finger headed towards the moving blades, I quickly said her name a couple of times.&amp;nbsp;When that didn't work, I tapped her on top of her head just as her finger touched the moving blades.&amp;nbsp; She jumped back, put her hand on her head and said, "Why did you hit me?"&amp;nbsp;I put her&amp;nbsp;on the couch on time out until I calmed down. She had no idea that she was so close to harming herself.&amp;nbsp; She didn't put her fingers in the blades, so they didn't get caught in the moving blades, but she was really, really close.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Why did I let them put their fingers in the bowl with the mixer still on?&amp;nbsp; Well, at the time it didn't seem so dangerous.&amp;nbsp; I swiped the side of the bowl away from the moving mixer.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin did the same.&amp;nbsp; I didn't think about all the ways the blond twin might hurt herself when I said, "Sure, you can have a taste."&amp;nbsp; My mistake, and believe me I am aware of the mistake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girl just frightens me with her lack of focus. Most of the time she hurts herself and she doesn't even realize it. I looked at her arm last week and asked why she had a bruise on her forearm. She said, "I don't know.&amp;nbsp;I think I hurt it getting out of bed." I didn't pursue it. I realize she doesn't really know. She's just coming up with something so I stop asking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I try to think of her lack of focus as a cute personality quirk, but I can't.&amp;nbsp;One day she'll be driving and it frightens me.&amp;nbsp;The good news is she'll probably spend most of her time behind the wheel with her twin in the passenger seat. This is where the brunette twin's cautious nature will come in handy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Until then we'll need to be on guard to keep the blond twin safe, even if it does mean a head swat once in a while to keep her finger out of&amp;nbsp;moving mixer blades.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-349598775036321095?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/349598775036321095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=349598775036321095' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/349598775036321095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/349598775036321095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2012/01/throwing-caution-to-wind.html' title='Throwing Caution to the Wind'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-4175764003619833720</id><published>2012-01-08T14:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T14:09:57.658-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lottery'/><title type='text'>My New Favorite Response</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Today we were standing in the Plush Horse ice cream shop when the brunette twin, hugging the giant stuffed horse, said, "I want a pony."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I turned to her and said, "As soon as I win the lottery, you'll get a pony."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This is my new response to all requests.&amp;nbsp; When I win the lottery, you can have anything you want.&amp;nbsp; It's a non-confrontational way to get out of the conversation, especially since we rarely play the lottery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-4175764003619833720?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/4175764003619833720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=4175764003619833720' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4175764003619833720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4175764003619833720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-new-favorite-response.html' title='My New Favorite Response'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-5820713369606712728</id><published>2012-01-02T21:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T21:40:02.731-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Quote of the Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Two days in and we have a winner...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette Twin: "I like to talk.&amp;nbsp; It's my favorite hobby.&amp;nbsp; I really, really like to talk."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-5820713369606712728?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/5820713369606712728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=5820713369606712728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5820713369606712728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5820713369606712728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2012/01/quote-of-year.html' title='Quote of the Year'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-6338302346022468656</id><published>2011-12-31T20:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T20:20:24.428-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year&apos;s Eve'/><title type='text'>Peace and Happiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This has been a miserable year.&amp;nbsp; It would be too depressing to go through the list of reasons, but we can agree that Marlene's and Dad's deaths would rank as the top two on the list.&amp;nbsp; All the other things just compounded the sadness and stress.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I hated 2011 and am quite glad today is New Year's Eve.&amp;nbsp; I just want to eliminate so many unhappy memories, but I know that's not possible.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;They say&amp;nbsp;that what doesn't kill you is supposed to make you stronger, but I would like to opt out of that concept.&amp;nbsp; I don't want to get any stronger in 2012.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;What I want for our family, and what I wish for you, is peace and happiness in 2012.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-6338302346022468656?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/6338302346022468656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=6338302346022468656' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6338302346022468656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6338302346022468656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/peace-and-happiness.html' title='Peace and Happiness'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-3769482870779774424</id><published>2011-12-29T10:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-29T10:28:00.081-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Museum of Contemporary Art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Art education'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Learning Our Art Preferences</title><content type='html'>Recently a daily deal site had discount passes for the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago. My husband emailed and said, "We should go at least once," so I bought passes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we can sum up our visit in the words of the blond twin who said, "It's a bunch of towels with a rope. This is art?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We try to expose the girls to as much as possible. We figure if you live in the Chicago area, you should take advantage of the opportunities the area provides. I have to admit we all seemed to agree with the blond twin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a really cool exhibit in the foyer called Sonic Arboretum. It featured a collection of horned speakers, creating a sound garden playing an original work designed just for the foyer's acoustics. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did we learn? I was glad the museum was packed because I like the idea of a modern art museum, even if modern art isn't our taste. Still, I'm glad we went to expose the girls to the concept. It's great to have the opportunity to visit so many different art museums and learn about our personal and family preferences for future outings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-3769482870779774424?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/3769482870779774424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=3769482870779774424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/3769482870779774424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/3769482870779774424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/learning-our-art-preferences.html' title='Learning Our Art Preferences'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-8261894720148302847</id><published>2011-12-28T09:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T09:46:00.230-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Twinies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The blond twin wrote this adorable poem for her sister's Christmas card.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Just you and me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Just you and me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;together forever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I just want to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Thank you for being there!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Always at school&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I think about you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;so thank you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Just us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-8261894720148302847?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/8261894720148302847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=8261894720148302847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8261894720148302847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8261894720148302847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/twinies.html' title='Twinies'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-2131999740139633054</id><published>2011-12-26T21:39:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T08:32:21.841-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Santa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Christmas Snapshots</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard at Our House Christmas Eve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;"I made you all presents," announced the blond twin. She wrapped special items from around the house for each of us.&amp;nbsp; She included a few coins as well.&amp;nbsp; She wrote lovely poems in each card.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin opened her package to find her favorite joke book.&amp;nbsp; She shrieked like it was the most exciting book ever, even though she's been reading it for a year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard at Our House Christmas Morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;"See, Santa doesn't listen to parents.&amp;nbsp; He always gets us what we want," said the brunette twin after opening presents.&amp;nbsp; For months Mom and Dad said, "No DS games in this house."&amp;nbsp; Despite that parental stand, Santa brought the DS that she and her sister listed as their number one item in their letters to Santa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard at Mom's Christmas Afternoon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;"Oh, Shari.&amp;nbsp; It's beautiful," Mom said when she opened her gift from us.&amp;nbsp; I made a quilt from Dad's shirt sleeves so he could still put his arms around her.&amp;nbsp; It was the only moment I saw her tear up the whole day.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard at Our House Christmas Evening&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;"This is the best Christmas ever," said the blond twin.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;You know what?&amp;nbsp; She was right.&amp;nbsp; I was worried it would be sad since both Dad and Marlene died this year, but it wasn't.&amp;nbsp; We were all together and ready to put the sadness of the past year behind us. I know New Year's Eve is the official&amp;nbsp;time to start fresh, but we did our best to start fresh on Christmas. It was a really nice, relaxing, laughter-filled&amp;nbsp;Christmas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-2131999740139633054?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/2131999740139633054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=2131999740139633054' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2131999740139633054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2131999740139633054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-snapshots.html' title='Christmas Snapshots'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7541890630649917981</id><published>2011-12-22T08:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-22T08:30:21.285-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parentin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Are You Buying Us Presents?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls are nervous.&amp;nbsp; They pretend not to be, but they are worried.&amp;nbsp; A few weeks ago they bought us presents from their school's holiday shop.&amp;nbsp; They excitedly wrapped them and&amp;nbsp;put them under the tree.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Several times since then they've asked, "Are you buying us presents?&amp;nbsp; There's nothing under the tree with our names.&amp;nbsp; You have presents.&amp;nbsp; Aren't we getting anything?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We just laugh and say, "Santa will bring you presents so we don't have to."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;They don't find this funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We find it quite entertaining.&amp;nbsp; First, we didn't plan to start this angst, but it works in our favor.&amp;nbsp; Whenever they are misbehaving we remind them that they don't have any presents under the tree yet.&amp;nbsp; Second, they waiver between "of course Mom and Dad are buying us presents aren't they?" and "when are you going to wrap our presents?"&amp;nbsp; For whatever reason they really have a lingering doubt that we're going to buy them presents.&amp;nbsp; It's interesting to listen to&amp;nbsp;them try to explain the lack of presents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Since Christmas is only a few days away, I suppose it's time to wrap their gifts and put them under the tree.&amp;nbsp; It's time to stop their angst and let them start trying to figure out what is in each box.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7541890630649917981?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7541890630649917981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7541890630649917981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7541890630649917981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7541890630649917981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/are-you-buying-us-presents.html' title='Are You Buying Us Presents?'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-8559508811477428138</id><published>2011-12-19T13:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-19T13:51:28.913-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bangs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='activist parent'/><title type='text'>The Eyes Have It</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls have been begging for bangs for a while now.&amp;nbsp; I resisted because I know bangs = ongoing maintenance.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;After months and months and months of reminding me that I promised to think about it, I finally called them into the bathroom.&amp;nbsp; I took the scissors and cut their bangs.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;They giggled and kept trying to look at their hair while I snipped.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin turned her head at just the wrong moment.&amp;nbsp; I snipped the hair a bit shorter than planned.&amp;nbsp; The blond twin stood "like a statue" when it was her turn.&amp;nbsp; Her bangs fell right where I planned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;They were so happy to have bangs they couldn't stop looking at them.&amp;nbsp; They still walk by the mirror and admire their bangs.&amp;nbsp; I'm happy that they're happy for now.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Who knew something so little could make them so happy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-8559508811477428138?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/8559508811477428138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=8559508811477428138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8559508811477428138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8559508811477428138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/eyes-have-it.html' title='The Eyes Have It'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-8520685838817509948</id><published>2011-12-16T18:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T18:13:53.595-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work at home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Truth be told</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard on the way home from piano lessons...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "It has been a long week.&amp;nbsp; I'm glad it's Friday because I'm tired."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Why are you tired?&amp;nbsp; It's not like you do anything."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "Really?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette Twin:&amp;nbsp; "All you do is sit at the computer all the time."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "Who cleans?&amp;nbsp; Who cooks?&amp;nbsp; Who takes you to school?&amp;nbsp; Who walks your dog?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Dad."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "Don't I do any of it?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Only when Dad's not around."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-8520685838817509948?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/8520685838817509948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=8520685838817509948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8520685838817509948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8520685838817509948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/truth-be-told.html' title='Truth be told'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-1217389772935104792</id><published>2011-12-13T17:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T17:51:17.942-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='handwriting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Handwriting Lessons</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I have what would politely be called messy handwriting.&amp;nbsp; I could give a long list of reasons from being left-handed to never really caring.&amp;nbsp; My handwriting is so distinctive that few people need to look at the mailing label to know an envelop is from me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Imagine my surprise when the blond twin said, "Hey Mom, does this look like your name?"&amp;nbsp; She had copied my first name from my signature on her assignment notebook.&amp;nbsp; It was a perfect copy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I could say I'll clean-up my handwriting so it's not so easy to copy, but odds aren't good that's going to happen at this point.&amp;nbsp; It's more likely start signing school forms with my first and last name.&amp;nbsp; Eventually she'll master that too, but at least it will buy me some time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-1217389772935104792?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/1217389772935104792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=1217389772935104792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1217389772935104792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1217389772935104792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/handwriting-lessons.html' title='Handwriting Lessons'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-1680590465251899523</id><published>2011-12-12T10:16:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T10:16:31.354-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='timetoplaymag.com'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gift giving'/><title type='text'>Expert Advice on Managing Your Children's Holiday Gift Expectations</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;This was originally posted on the &lt;a href="http://thechicagomoms.com/2011/12/expert-advice-on-managing-your-childrens-holiday-gift-expectations/"&gt;Chicago Moms&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the Chicago Moms/Chicagonista holiday party, Timetoplaymag.com Editor in Chief Jim Silver pulled up a chair to chat about what was hot for kids this year. He asked what was in our girls’ letter to Santa. I replied, “More than they will get, of course.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me that for every gift-giving occasion, he always has his children write a list for twice as many items as he’s planning to give them. For example, if he’s thinking about buying three things, he’ll ask his children for six ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said that it was a good life lesson because if you always get half of what you want, you’re doing well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about it a lot since the party last night. First, Jim had a great idea about the list. I tend to say that they should only put what they really, really want on a list. Something like, “Santa cannot bring you everything because there are so many kids in the world” is usually part of the conversation. After thinking about what Jim said, I think I’ll ask the girls for more. I think that limiting their lists builds their expectations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, because they have so many relatives, the girls tend to get most of what they want. It’s true that they don’t get everything on their lists, but it’s pretty close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fom now on we’ll definitely encourage them to put down twice as many items as we think they will get. It will be good for them to learn that not everything on your wish list ends up under the Christmas tree, but if you end up with half it’s a good haul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclosure: &lt;em&gt;I did win a doll during the holiday party. It didn’t have anything to do with Jim’s advice, but I thought I’d disclose it anyway because timetoplaymag.com was a party sponsor.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-1680590465251899523?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/1680590465251899523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=1680590465251899523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1680590465251899523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1680590465251899523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/expert-advice-on-managing-your.html' title='Expert Advice on Managing Your Children&apos;s Holiday Gift Expectations'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-3308230952610239955</id><published>2011-12-08T11:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-08T11:16:19.125-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eye glasses'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>The Missing Three</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls wear glasses to school.&amp;nbsp; They have very weak prescriptions, so they don't wear them when they are running around on the playground.&amp;nbsp; They do have to wear them in class or when they are reading at home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This morning I said, "Get your glasses.&amp;nbsp; I want to clean them before you go to school."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The blond twin couldn't find either pair of her glasses.&amp;nbsp; It was an interesting development since she supposedly wore one pair at school yesterday.&amp;nbsp; She frantically ran from place to place looking for either pair of glasses.&amp;nbsp; She prefers the blue frames, but was desperate to find either pair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The brunette twin handed me her glasses to clean.&amp;nbsp; She was a little smug because she had her glasses and her twin couldn't find either pair.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin put the clean glasses on her face and walked away.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;A few minutes later I said, "Where are your glasses?"&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin looked at me and said, "I don't know."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Somehow between her trip from the kitchen to the powder room to the dining room, she took off her glasses.&amp;nbsp; Not only did she put them down, but she didn't remember doing it.&amp;nbsp; She started looking for her glasses.&amp;nbsp; A few minutes later&amp;nbsp;she announced, "It's the strangest thing.&amp;nbsp; I cannot find my glasses." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Yes, she lost her glasses.&amp;nbsp; No, I don't know why she took them off her face and neither did she.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We were all looking for any of the missing glasses when the clock chimed.&amp;nbsp; We had to leave for school.&amp;nbsp; It was too late to keep looking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I don't know what they think they are doing after school, but there will be no fun for them until they find their glasses.&amp;nbsp; In fact, there might not be any fun even if they find their glasses.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-3308230952610239955?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/3308230952610239955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=3308230952610239955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/3308230952610239955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/3308230952610239955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/missing-three.html' title='The Missing Three'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-2431678609931154729</id><published>2011-12-06T08:54:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T12:51:24.792-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='plastic bags'/><title type='text'>The Plastic Advantage</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I was at a Christmas party last night when I realized I couldn't find my coat check ticket.&amp;nbsp; I dumped my purse and still couldn't find the little pink ticket.&amp;nbsp; When I talked to the coat check woman, she said, "Can you identify the coat?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Sure, it's a long, black wool coat.&amp;nbsp; I described the collar and buttons.&amp;nbsp; She still had&amp;nbsp;multiple coats that fit the description.&amp;nbsp; She asked, "Do you know the brand?"&amp;nbsp; I had to admit I owned the coat for so long I just didn't remember.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Then I remembered something unusual about my coat.&amp;nbsp; I said, "I have plastic bags in the pockets."&amp;nbsp; She said, "What?"&amp;nbsp; I replied, "We have a dog and I have plastic bags in the pockets."&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She laughed as she went through the pockets of the coats she thought were most likely mine.&amp;nbsp; She handed me the coat and said, "Well, that's the most unique way to describe a coat."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Score one for plastic bags.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-2431678609931154729?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/2431678609931154729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=2431678609931154729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2431678609931154729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2431678609931154729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/plastic-advantage.html' title='The Plastic Advantage'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-8784250832598941970</id><published>2011-12-05T09:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T09:35:04.920-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='multitasking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing older'/><title type='text'>No More Multitasking</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I've come the the realization that I cannot multitask anymore.&amp;nbsp; I realize numerous studies have shown that you're not really more effective when you multitask, but I still continued to try.&amp;nbsp; If I have to sit on a two hour conference call, shouldn't I be able to answer emails, write blog posts and shop online as well?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The problem is my memory isn't very good when I multitask.&amp;nbsp; Unless I'm truly focusing on something, I forget that I've done it.&amp;nbsp; There are lots of examples.&amp;nbsp; I keep putting the same entry in the checkbook multiple times.&amp;nbsp; It seems that I put in the entry when we spend the money and when it clears the account.&amp;nbsp; I cannot count the number of times I've gotten in the van and then gotten out to make sure I've really locked the front door.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;There will still be some multitasking.&amp;nbsp; I'll make dinner and listen to the girls practice piano for example.&amp;nbsp; Maybe I'll still answer emails while I'm on conference calls.&amp;nbsp; It's just that for important things, I need to start concentrating.&amp;nbsp; I think it's one more sign of my old age catching up with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-8784250832598941970?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/8784250832598941970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=8784250832598941970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8784250832598941970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8784250832598941970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/no-more-multitasking.html' title='No More Multitasking'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7205982465022364948</id><published>2011-12-04T18:54:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T18:57:42.976-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oreo'/><title type='text'>Life Without Bars</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When we brought Oreo home, he didn't want to go into his crate.&amp;nbsp; He spent nearly two months locked in a crate in the animal shelter.&amp;nbsp; The first night we put him in the crate, he tried to break out.&amp;nbsp; For the first few nights, I would wake up at night from the noise&amp;nbsp;he made trying to get out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Eventually he settled into his crate.&amp;nbsp; He dutifully went in every night right after his last bathroom break outside.&amp;nbsp; He would walk right in the door and into the crate.&amp;nbsp; When the weather was bad, we'd find him huddled in the crate.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Lately he has been spending more time in the girls' room after they go to sleep.&amp;nbsp; He'd stay up there on the rug next to their bunkbed long after they went to sleep.&amp;nbsp; It's almost as if he thought he'd get to stay there if he was quiet.&amp;nbsp; Every night we'd call him downstairs and he's sleep in the crate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Everything changed Thanksgiving week.&amp;nbsp; Oreo was sick.&amp;nbsp; The kind of icky dog sick that resulted in lots of messy clean-ups.&amp;nbsp; One night I awoke to hear him howling in the middle of the night.&amp;nbsp; He'd never done this before, so I came downstairs.&amp;nbsp; He was huddled in the corner with a mess in his crate.&amp;nbsp; I took him outside, cleaned-up the crate and went back to bed.&amp;nbsp; He slept at the top of the stairs while his crate dried and his blanket was washed.&amp;nbsp; The next night he went back in the crate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;A couple of nights later I heard him howling again.&amp;nbsp; I went downstairs to see him trying not to step in the mess.&amp;nbsp; I took him outside and cleaned the crate again.&amp;nbsp; He ran upstairs and slept at the top of the stairs.&amp;nbsp; When I crawled back into bed I told my husband that I just hoped Oreo didn't get sick on the carpet before we woke up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;He didn't get sick on the carpet.&amp;nbsp; He did run downstairs and get sick in the foyer, a place he'd been sick previously that week.&amp;nbsp; Since I had seen it enough during the day, I'm pretty sure he was sitting next to the front door when he got sick.&amp;nbsp; It was his standard place to say, "Um, hey.&amp;nbsp; Get me outside now!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The rest of the week he'd run&amp;nbsp;to the corner at the top of the stairs when it was bedtime.&amp;nbsp; Eventually we decided to let him spend the night there.&amp;nbsp; We discussed it a lot.&amp;nbsp; Even though everyone told us we'd eventually be able to get rid of the crate, we were skeptical.&amp;nbsp; We weren't sure what he would do outside the crate all night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We also knew that once he was out of the crate, he wouldn't go back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Turns out he positions himself at the top of the stairs and he stays there until the girls come down in the morning.&amp;nbsp; Even when Tom wakes up and rushes out the door at 5:30 a.m., Oreo stays put.&amp;nbsp; He's not going anywhere until the girls wake up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I have to admit I don't miss having the big metal crate in the living room.&amp;nbsp; It's in the basement, though, just in case we need it again.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7205982465022364948?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7205982465022364948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7205982465022364948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7205982465022364948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7205982465022364948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/life-without-bars.html' title='Life Without Bars'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-237292723978365211</id><published>2011-12-02T16:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-08T11:19:32.253-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing older'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changing roles'/><title type='text'>Treading Carefully in New Territory</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When we were kids, my cousins all moved to fun locations that made for great vacation memories.&amp;nbsp; It also meant that when Gramma or Grampa (on either side) needed help, they had to call us.&amp;nbsp; They weren't able to spread the calls among the family because we were it for little things like mowing the lawn or big things like emergency room visits.&amp;nbsp; We never just went over for a visit.&amp;nbsp; There was always an "as long as you are here" list.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Mom hated those lists.&amp;nbsp; She'd always tell us she was never going to make a list like that.&amp;nbsp; We laughed because it seemed like a long time before we'd have to deal with the possibility.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now that Dad is gone, we are keenly aware that we are treading into new territory with her.&amp;nbsp; It was one thing to offer help when Dad was sick.&amp;nbsp; He wasn't about to have strangers in his home doing anything.&amp;nbsp; Thankfully my brothers are quite handy.&amp;nbsp; There's no way I would have been able to fix the leaky shower in the upstairs bathroom or plow the driveway after the blizzard last year.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Mom was happy to have the help and Dad was happy not to have strangers around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It all worked well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now we're in a new place with Mom.&amp;nbsp; She needs help.&amp;nbsp; There's no way she can handle the house all by herself.&amp;nbsp; The problem is she doesn't want to become my Grams who always had a list when you visited.&amp;nbsp; Just the other day she said, "I wish you would just&amp;nbsp;come over to visit. I wish I didn't always&amp;nbsp;have&amp;nbsp;to ask for help."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It's important to understand that she wasn't asking me to repaint the house.&amp;nbsp; She simply needed help getting&amp;nbsp;Christmas decorations down from a cabinet above the fridge.&amp;nbsp; Even with a ladder she's not tall enough to do it easily.&amp;nbsp; It's one of the disadvantages of being 4' 10" tall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We're starting to figure out the system, but not without some growing pains.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Last week I called Mom to say I had a few hours and see if she needed help.&amp;nbsp; She said she was fine.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;A few hours later we make plans to go to a restaurant near her house with friends.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I called back and said, "We'll be down the block about 6:00 p.m.&amp;nbsp; Do you want us to come over and do anything since we're nearby?"&amp;nbsp; This time she asked us to stop by and move some empty Christmas decoration boxes upstairs and out of the way.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;What was the&amp;nbsp;difference?&amp;nbsp; The first&amp;nbsp;call was simply to offer help.&amp;nbsp; With the second call we were going to be in the neighborhood.&amp;nbsp; It was a drive-by, not an intentional destination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;At some point we'll find a way to help Mom and let her keep her independence.&amp;nbsp; It is not easy because every time we help it's another reminder that Dad isn't around to help anymore.&amp;nbsp; After more than 50 years, Mom is really on her own.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-237292723978365211?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/237292723978365211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=237292723978365211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/237292723978365211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/237292723978365211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/treading-carefully-in-new-territory.html' title='Treading Carefully in New Territory'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-6420810977187789640</id><published>2011-12-01T13:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T13:06:24.327-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='basement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oreo'/><title type='text'>Where is that sound coming from?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I was on the phone with my husband when the sound started.&amp;nbsp; It was a small whine that I couldn't identify at first.&amp;nbsp; It took a minute to realize it was Oreo.&amp;nbsp; The problem was I couldn't figure out where he was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I walked to the front door and he wasn't there.&amp;nbsp; I was still on the phone as I wandered the first floor looking behind chairs and under the dining room table to see if he was there.&amp;nbsp; After a few minutes I yelled upstairs to the girls.&amp;nbsp; They couldn't find him up there either.&amp;nbsp; It wasn't until I stood in front of the basement door that I solved the mystery.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I opened the door to see Oreo sitting in the dark on the top stair just whining.&amp;nbsp; His ears were down as he jumped through the door.&amp;nbsp; I told my husband that I don't know how he ended up locked in the basement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;A little later that morning, I went downstairs and found lots of dog food on the stairs. When the brunette twin brought up his morning meal, she must have dropped some on the stairs.&amp;nbsp; My best guess is he went down the stairs to clean-up the mess and ended up behind a closed door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Oreo has never been fond of the basement.&amp;nbsp; He will go down a few stairs if we're in the basement, but he doesn't usually wander around by himself.&amp;nbsp; Somehow I doubt this latest incident will help with that fear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-6420810977187789640?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/6420810977187789640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=6420810977187789640' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6420810977187789640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6420810977187789640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/12/where-is-that-sound-coming-from.html' title='Where is that sound coming from?'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-8315925213535137909</id><published>2011-11-28T12:20:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T12:23:51.658-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick'/><title type='text'>Thanksgiving Fun Results in a Sick Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;"You're punishing us for being sick," was the last thing the blond twin yelled at me before she stomped up the stairs this morning.&amp;nbsp; I replied, "Nope.&amp;nbsp; Sick girls don't get to play.&amp;nbsp; If you stay home from school, you have to spend your time in bed, resting.&amp;nbsp; It's what sick kids do."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls had a very fun Thanksgiving break.&amp;nbsp; We topped off the long weekend with a trip downtown to see the decorations and have dinner at Macy's Walnut Room.&amp;nbsp; It was all great until we came home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Last night the girls just lost their minds.&amp;nbsp; They were so tired they could hardly get themselves ready for bed.&amp;nbsp; They complained about headaches and sore throats.&amp;nbsp; A few fake coughs were thrown in for effect.&amp;nbsp; I don't think they are sick today as much as they are so overtired they just cannot function.&amp;nbsp; I let them stay home from school because they both complained about their stomachs hurting.&amp;nbsp; The girls started saying, "I think I'm going to puke." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I sent them into their beds.&amp;nbsp; I told them if they were not sleeping then they had to read quietly in bed.&amp;nbsp; Sick girls don't spend the day playing games or running around.&amp;nbsp; They rest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The brunette twin came down to ask for a snack.&amp;nbsp; She asked for a treat, which caused me to say, "Gee, I don't think that's such a good idea.&amp;nbsp; I wouldn't want the treat to upset your stomach any more."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Yeah, there's a pretty good part of the day educating them to&amp;nbsp;the idea that if you are sick, your world changes dramatically.&amp;nbsp; No fun.&amp;nbsp; No treats.&amp;nbsp; Nothing but rest and a bland diet.&amp;nbsp; I'm sure they will be thrilled to find out they are having a bagel with butter and a banana for lunch.&amp;nbsp; If they are hungry later they can have some yogurt.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It's not punishment, it's tough love.&amp;nbsp; If you're sick, you get treated like you're sick.&amp;nbsp; If you're pretending to be sick so you can stay home, you get treated like you're sick.&amp;nbsp; If this doesn't make them want to go to school tomorrow, then nothing will.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-8315925213535137909?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/8315925213535137909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=8315925213535137909' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8315925213535137909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8315925213535137909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/11/thanksgiving-fun-results-in-sick-day.html' title='Thanksgiving Fun Results in a Sick Day'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-6530527424999497686</id><published>2011-11-23T16:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T16:32:21.380-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='computers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>What is the Password?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Our laptop is password protected so the girls cannot log on without our knowledge.&amp;nbsp; In her quest for more independence, this drives the blond twin crazy.&amp;nbsp; She has started trying to figure out the password.&amp;nbsp; It's her mission now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She comes up with all kinds of possible password combinations that are both funny and intriguing.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes the words are a glimpse into her attitude.&amp;nbsp; Other times she gets a little too close and I have to redirect her thinking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Today Daddy might have put an end to it.&amp;nbsp; At lunch she made a guess and said, "I think I'll try a few ideas next time I want to log on."&amp;nbsp; Daddy said, "If you put the wrong password in too many times the computer locks and we cannot use it any more."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;He is so smart isn't he?&amp;nbsp; The blond twin immediately decided to put the password issue aside.&amp;nbsp; Now instead of trying different combinations in the computer she's trying to catch my off-guard by asking me at random times.&amp;nbsp; When she thinks I'm distracted she says, "Mom, what did you say the password was?"&amp;nbsp; So far I've been able to just smile and laugh.&amp;nbsp; Of course, one day she'll get me at a weak moment and I'll tell her, which means I'll have to change the password and we'll start the game all over again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-6530527424999497686?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/6530527424999497686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=6530527424999497686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6530527424999497686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6530527424999497686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/11/what-is-password.html' title='What is the Password?'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-6691880275209319340</id><published>2011-11-17T19:42:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T19:49:25.183-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='traditions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Fast Forward Please</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The holidays are coming and I'm dreading them.&amp;nbsp; I mean every single activity between now and 2012.&amp;nbsp; This hasn't been a particularly happy year with Marlene and Dad both passing.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Marlene's birthday was December 16, which means we'll all be thinking about my brother,&amp;nbsp;her children&amp;nbsp;and her extended family on that date.&amp;nbsp; She LOVED Christmas and knowing that she won't be here makes it even harder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Dad always cooked a Fillet Mignon roast with carrots and potatoes on Christmas.&amp;nbsp; There was a side of smoked sausage, some green beans, a salad&amp;nbsp;and rolls to round out the meal.&amp;nbsp; This year we're talking about who will make the roast, as if having the same meal makes it the same celebration.&amp;nbsp; I realize there's a lot to be said for continuing traditions, so we'll make the effort.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;If I could tell the truth, though, I'd like to fast forward to 2012. I want to skip all of it and start over on a cold, crisp January day. The kind of day when all good things are possible and everyone feels optimistic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We're a long way from that now.&amp;nbsp; We'll do a lot of Christmas stuff like Breakfast with Santa and carolling with the Brownies.&amp;nbsp; We'll smile for the photos and make sure the girls have a Christmas to remember.&amp;nbsp; They are filled with wonder and awe.&amp;nbsp; The magic of Santa still looms large, and who knows how much longer that will last.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;No matter how I feel, they still deserve a wonderful&amp;nbsp;Christmas.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-6691880275209319340?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/6691880275209319340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=6691880275209319340' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6691880275209319340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6691880275209319340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/11/fast-forward-please.html' title='Fast Forward Please'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-5603338445519724951</id><published>2011-11-15T20:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T20:34:08.098-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='student council'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='elections'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>And the winner is...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls came home from school just bubbling with excitement.&amp;nbsp; Their class needed to elect a class representative and alternate for their student council.&amp;nbsp; They begged us to let them both run.&amp;nbsp; We signed the forms and returned them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Yesterday they announced that only three kids were running.&amp;nbsp; The good news was one of them would win.&amp;nbsp; The bad news was it was highly possible that only one of them would win.&amp;nbsp; Walking home from school we talked about what would happen if only one of them was elected.&amp;nbsp; We discussed different ways to react when one girl's name wasn't called.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin cried a little when she realized she might not win.&amp;nbsp; By the time we got home they had mastered the art of congratulating the winner when it wasn't them.&amp;nbsp; At least I hoped so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls ran out of school today with big grins.&amp;nbsp; The blond twin said, "Let's talk about the election when we get across the street."&amp;nbsp; As soon as we crossed they said, "We both won."&amp;nbsp; It was a tie, so their teacher flipped a coin.&amp;nbsp; The blond twin became the representative.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin seemed thrilled that she won at all.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Their friend Marcus wasn't too happy.&amp;nbsp; They said he cried, but they told us they congratulated him and said, "Good job!"&amp;nbsp; I doubt that made him feel better, but it did make me feel better.&amp;nbsp; They really did listen and learn. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now that the big election is over the girls will attend student council meetings.&amp;nbsp; They have to take notes and report back to their class.&amp;nbsp; It's their first opportunity to be student leaders.&amp;nbsp; They are taking this very seriously, so I hope it lives up to their expectations.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-5603338445519724951?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/5603338445519724951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=5603338445519724951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5603338445519724951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5603338445519724951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/11/and-winner-is.html' title='And the winner is...'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-1800628538658488266</id><published>2011-11-12T21:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-12T21:17:08.612-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Girl Who Never Made Mistakes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gary Rubinstein'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reading'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beatrice Bottonwell'/><title type='text'>The Girl Who Never Made Mistakes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;One of the nicest things about blogging is I'm offered opportunities to review different books.&amp;nbsp; When I received an opportunity to review "The Girl Who Never Made Mistakes" by Gary Rubinstein, I jumped at it.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;If there is one thing our girls need to learn it is that making a mistake is not the end of the world.&amp;nbsp; They take every error as a personal failing.&amp;nbsp; It is as if a small mistake shakes them to their core.&amp;nbsp; My hope was they would read the book and take the lesson that mistakes are a part of life.&amp;nbsp; Everyone makes mistakes, and it's okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When the book arrived, the girls grabbed it and ran off.&amp;nbsp; Of course, part of the deal for receiving a review copy is that I'm supposed to blog about the book.&amp;nbsp; This is where the problem began.&amp;nbsp; You see, somehow, someway, the book disappeared.&amp;nbsp; I looked for it so many times that I was beginning to think I had imagined the book.&amp;nbsp; A very nice intern at the book publishing company sent a gentle reminder asking when the blog review would be posted.&amp;nbsp; Several weeks passed and I still couldn't find the book, so I broke down and asked the girls where the book was hiding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The brunette twin said, "I don't know where it is, but I read it and it was really good.&amp;nbsp; There was a girl named Beatrice who never made a mistake.&amp;nbsp; She did everything right.&amp;nbsp; It was like she didn't know how to make a mistake.&amp;nbsp; Then she took her hamster out and her hamster really liked salt.&amp;nbsp; Beatrice didn't realize that she brought her hamster pepper instead.&amp;nbsp; It was her first mistake and it was in front of a lot of people.&amp;nbsp; She realized it was okay to make a mistake and laughed." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I was pretty impressed with her recall of the details.&amp;nbsp; I said, "So, what was the point of the book?"&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin said, "Don't get upset when you make mistakes.&amp;nbsp; Everyone makes them."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now, since I cannot find the book, I'm not sure she got it all right, but she did get the main point.&amp;nbsp; Any book that makes that much of an impression after one reading must be worth reading.&amp;nbsp; If only I could find the book and read it for myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-1800628538658488266?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/1800628538658488266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=1800628538658488266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1800628538658488266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1800628538658488266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/11/girl-who-never-made-mistakes.html' title='The Girl Who Never Made Mistakes'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-2627891077067460635</id><published>2011-11-10T17:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-10T17:55:04.564-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prayer blanket'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Prayer Blankets</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Our church creates prayer blankets for people who are facing a challenge.&amp;nbsp; It could be something like grieving after the death of a loved one or like recovering from surgery.&amp;nbsp; Whatever the challenge, several members gather with two different types of fleece to pray and create the blankets.&amp;nbsp; The team starts tying the knots and prays over the blankets.&amp;nbsp; At church the next Sunday the&amp;nbsp;congregation finishes the knots and prays again.&amp;nbsp; It's a lovely activity for all ages.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Since Dad and Marlene died, the brunette twin has been talking about making prayer blankets for Mom and Steve.&amp;nbsp; She brought up the topic a&amp;nbsp;few weeks ago and just kept talking about it.&amp;nbsp; When I said that we were going to the store to buy fabric, the blond twin added that we needed a prayer blanket for my husband's&amp;nbsp;Mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls&amp;nbsp;looked at every&amp;nbsp;possibility and color combination.&amp;nbsp; In the end they chose six lovely fabrics to&amp;nbsp;make the blankets.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I told them that if they really wanted to&amp;nbsp;give prayer blankets, they would have&amp;nbsp;to help make them.&amp;nbsp; We weren't going to drop off the fabric and leave.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;They were so excited to make the blankets.&amp;nbsp; They told everyone the stories behind the blankets, cut the&amp;nbsp;fabric and helped tie knots.&amp;nbsp; They giggled when they planned how to give the blankets to everyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;These are the moments that make all those frustrating moments worthwhile.&amp;nbsp; Somehow we're raising thoughtful, considerate little girls.&amp;nbsp; It's something we hoped would happen, so seeing it come to life in them is one of the great joys of my world.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-2627891077067460635?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/2627891077067460635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=2627891077067460635' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2627891077067460635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2627891077067460635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/11/prayer-blankets.html' title='Prayer Blankets'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-6354222164412509738</id><published>2011-11-07T15:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T15:53:46.290-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>What Time is It?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I was sitting at my desk working on a PowerPoint presentation when I glanced at the clock.&amp;nbsp; I stared for a minute trying to figure out the "what's wrong with this picture" feeling I was having.&amp;nbsp; Suddenly it hit me.&amp;nbsp; My calender entry didn't pop up.&amp;nbsp; The girls school day ended five minutes ago.&amp;nbsp; I was late to pick-up the girls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Not having time to walk Oreo up there as I usually do, I grabbed my purse and raced out the door.&amp;nbsp; Oreo was on his front porch tie-up as I pulled out of the garage.&amp;nbsp; He ran towards the van, but I was already out of the driveway.&amp;nbsp; Plus, he's tied-up, so he didn't get very far. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;As I was racing towards the school (carefully, of course), my mobile phone rang.&amp;nbsp; Another mom said, "I have the girls.&amp;nbsp; Do you need me to put them in the car and bring them home."&amp;nbsp; I told her what happened and by the time she stopped laughing I was there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Neither girl was happy with me.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin cried because she thought I forgot them.&amp;nbsp; The blond twin was just mad that I made her sister cry.&amp;nbsp; She said, "I knew you wouldn't leave us here, but I didn't like coming out of the door and not seeing you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I switched up their normal after-school routine just to give myself a chance to calm down.&amp;nbsp; They happily went to play in their bedroom, thrilled that they didn't have to do their homework first.&amp;nbsp; I started working on a back-up system just in case my work calendar entry doesn't pop-up again.&amp;nbsp; I knew that sooner or later I'd be late for school pick-up.&amp;nbsp; I just didn't think it would only be four months into the school year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-6354222164412509738?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/6354222164412509738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=6354222164412509738' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6354222164412509738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6354222164412509738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/11/what-time-is-it.html' title='What Time is It?'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-919159223939101639</id><published>2011-11-01T14:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T14:20:35.504-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brownies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Next Time I'll Be Completely Biased</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I am in so much trouble with the brunette twin.&amp;nbsp; They had a costume party at their Brownies meeting.&amp;nbsp; At the end the moms were asked to clap for each girl to choose the best costume.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It's hard to believe I didn't get this right, but I didn't.&amp;nbsp; When the girls showed off their costumes, all the moms clapped politely.&amp;nbsp; No one clapped more for her daughter than for anyone else's daughter.&amp;nbsp; We thought we were showing how to be on the same team.&amp;nbsp; Everyone looked great.&amp;nbsp; No one costume was better than the others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;As soon as we buckled into the minivan, the brunette twin said, "Why didn't you clap louder for us?"&amp;nbsp; I said, "We all clapped the same for everyone.&amp;nbsp; You all looked cute."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;"We're your babies.&amp;nbsp; Next time you clap more for us than for the other girls," the brunette twin said angrily.&amp;nbsp; I mean she was really, really mad at me.&amp;nbsp; I got that message loud and clear.&amp;nbsp; I apologized and said I would clap more for them than the others next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;From this point forward my job is to be their head cheerleader.&amp;nbsp; I will clap loudly when required and embarrass them by calling out their names when appropriate -- or not.&amp;nbsp; This is one job I can be really good at with just a little practice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-919159223939101639?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/919159223939101639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=919159223939101639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/919159223939101639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/919159223939101639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/11/next-time-ill-be-completely-biased.html' title='Next Time I&apos;ll Be Completely Biased'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7215568245099177984</id><published>2011-10-30T19:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-30T19:40:16.417-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family time'/><title type='text'>Relearning Nothing to Do Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It was about a year ago that Dad started getting really sick.&amp;nbsp; Since we never knew what Mom and Dad would need and when, we got into the habit of making sure everything was done as quickly as possible.&amp;nbsp; There wasn't a lot of time to just sit and read the paper on a Sunday because we were running here and there -- either for us or Mom and Dad.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now that Dad is gone, we find ourselves trying to re-establish some kind of a normal routine.&amp;nbsp; This afternoon we found ourselves sitting on the couch reading the newspaper and catching up on a few shows we recorded.&amp;nbsp; It was the kind of Sunday afternoon that would have been normal a while ago.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Today I found myself trying to relax.&amp;nbsp; Every time I settled in, I felt like I should have been doing something.&amp;nbsp; It was as if I had forgotten how to relax.&amp;nbsp; I kept waiting for the phone to ring or to remember that there was something I needed to do.&amp;nbsp; It took a while before I realized I could just do nothing.&amp;nbsp; It was okay to spend an afternoon just hanging out at home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It's another step towards our new normal.&amp;nbsp; The constant worry about Mom and Dad is gone.&amp;nbsp; It's replacement isn't fitting comfortably yet, but I'll spend more time relaxing on Sundays until it finally fits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7215568245099177984?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7215568245099177984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7215568245099177984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7215568245099177984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7215568245099177984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/10/relearning-nothing-to-do-time.html' title='Relearning Nothing to Do Time'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-2945586709374987272</id><published>2011-10-28T11:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T11:59:45.567-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oreo'/><title type='text'>Front Porch Dog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We use a tie-up to put Oreo outside attached to the play set whenever we're working in the yard or just think it's a good day for the dog to be outside.&amp;nbsp; It's strong enough to keep him in place, and he still has a lot of room to explore. Recently we moved the tie-up to the front porch because the backyard is one big mess from the patio project.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It turns out he LOVES being on the front porch.&amp;nbsp; It's his personal playground.&amp;nbsp; The tie-up is long enough that he can wander into the front yard and explore the front garden when the mood strikes.&amp;nbsp; Other times he just hangs out on the concrete watching all the neighborhood action.&amp;nbsp; Now, I wouldn't say there's a lot of neighborhood action, but for Oreo, the squirrels, walkers and&amp;nbsp;cars must be fascinating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;He recently started asking to go outside.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes he sits by the front door and talks to me.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes when we come back from a walk he'll plop down next to the tie-up.&amp;nbsp; He won't move until I attach him to the tie-up so he can roam.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes I'll find him stretched out in front of the screen door.&amp;nbsp; I'll open the door and try to bring him into the house, but he walks away.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I've learned to just leave him on the front porch.&amp;nbsp;It keeps him busy for hours on end.&amp;nbsp; As long as it's not raining, he can spend as much time as he wants on the front porch.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-2945586709374987272?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/2945586709374987272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=2945586709374987272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2945586709374987272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2945586709374987272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/10/front-porch-dog.html' title='Front Porch Dog'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-4316296413389102044</id><published>2011-10-24T12:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T12:27:54.266-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='You&apos;ve Been Boo-ed'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>We've Been Boo-ed</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;***Orginally posted to the &lt;a href="http://thechicagomoms.com/"&gt;Chicago Moms&lt;/a&gt;***&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The first time it happened, we didn’t even know we’d been boo-ed. We opened our front door to find an orange, plastic pumpkin with treats and a poem. The second time it happened, the doorbell rang. By the time we opened the front door, the goblins were gone. The treats spilling out of orange, plastic cups sat on our front porch with a ghost and a poem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now it’s our turn. We’re going to boo several friends this weekend. I went to &lt;a href="http://www.beenbooed.com/"&gt;You’ve Been Boo-ed&lt;/a&gt; to print out the neighborhood version to include with our pumpkins. We have several extra pumpkins from different parties that we can fill with treats. The only argument in our house is who to boo. The poem asks you to boo two other people. Since we’ve been boo-ed twice, we figure we’ll boo four households. Of course, we have six potential families, so we might just boo them all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Who will you boo? It’s easy and fun to spread a little Halloween fun. Why not join in the fun?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;UPDATE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We boo-ed several families last night.&amp;nbsp; It was very fun for the girls.&amp;nbsp; They ran up to each house, dropped the treat and rang the doorbell.&amp;nbsp; At the first house, the brunette twin fell, but she jumped up and ran into the car.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin had a scare at her final house when the motion detector lights went on.&amp;nbsp; She went from sneaking up to the door to standing in the bright lights.&amp;nbsp; The blond twin couldn't stop giggling when she went to boo her friends.&amp;nbsp; She was completely out of breath when she slammed the car door.&amp;nbsp; I only hope it was as fun for the recipients as it was for us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-4316296413389102044?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/4316296413389102044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=4316296413389102044' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4316296413389102044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4316296413389102044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/10/weve-been-boo-ed.html' title='We&apos;ve Been Boo-ed'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-5330035015642281291</id><published>2011-10-20T13:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T13:56:48.223-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='privacy'/><title type='text'>Privacy Issues</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The blond twin recently decided that she wants her privacy.&amp;nbsp; Not from us or her sister, but from everyone else.&amp;nbsp; She has started complaining when we tell embarrassing stories or share her grades with other.&amp;nbsp; Last weekend she expanded it to all medical issues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The blond twin has bloody noses from time to time.&amp;nbsp; On Sunday she stayed home from church because she was afraid it would start bleeding again.&amp;nbsp; It started just before we were supposed to leave and she took the opportunity to stay home with Daddy.&amp;nbsp; (Ok, maybe she just wanted to stay home with Daddy.&amp;nbsp; It did cross my mind.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;At church several people asked.&amp;nbsp; Most of the time I said she wasn't feeling well.&amp;nbsp; I told a couple of people because I thought they might have some advice for us.&amp;nbsp; It turns out they did.&amp;nbsp; When she found out I told them why she stayed home she was MAD.&amp;nbsp; Really, really mad.&amp;nbsp; She said, "It's my body and you don't get to tell them what's going on unless I say so."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Did I mention she was mad?&amp;nbsp; Two more times this week she reminded me that I was not allowed to tell anyone something about her.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It's an interesting turn of events because both girls have growing concerns&amp;nbsp;about their privacy, but in different ways.&amp;nbsp; The blond twin doesn't want anyone outside the immediate family to know anything.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin has taken to hiding when she changes clothes and shutting the bathroom door as she gains some modesty.&amp;nbsp; She hasn't said she doesn't want me to tell anyone what is happening with her when she's sick, but I'm sure it's coming.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-5330035015642281291?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/5330035015642281291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=5330035015642281291' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5330035015642281291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5330035015642281291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/10/privacy-issues.html' title='Privacy Issues'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-8636742598807330796</id><published>2011-10-17T12:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-17T12:20:27.039-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>The Worst Ten Minutes of the Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Each night we make sure the girls' backpacks are ready, clothes are set out and lunches are made.&amp;nbsp; So why is it so hard to get them out of the house in the morning?&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Some days the problem is obvious.&amp;nbsp; The girls spill something on their clothes and need to change at the last moment.&amp;nbsp; The girls cannot get their shoes untied.&amp;nbsp; The girls have to go to the bathroom at the moment we are supposed to walk out the door.&amp;nbsp; The girls cannot figure out which fashion scarf to wear with their denim jackets.&amp;nbsp; You get the picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Other mornings run like this morning.&amp;nbsp; We were five minutes late getting out of the house and I cannot even tell you why.&amp;nbsp; The backpacks were packed.&amp;nbsp; Lunches were ready.&amp;nbsp; The girls were moving at a reasonable pace.&amp;nbsp; Still, we didn't get out of the house on time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now that the weather is getting colder -- and it's soon to be snowier -- we need to push our out-of-the-house time back.&amp;nbsp; We cannot leave five minutes late and make it to school on time.&amp;nbsp; Even though there's a 10 minute window during which the girls need to be at school or they are late, I don't like to cut it close.&amp;nbsp; I'm not interested in finding out whether or not the school's clock syncs with ours.&amp;nbsp; I want to be there as soon as the school doors open.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Leaving five minutes earlier means adjusting the schedule so we can leave on time. The problem is that no matter how well I plan, there are some things that are out of my control.&amp;nbsp; The ten minutes it takes us to go from "let's leave" to actually locking the front door will still be the worst ten minutes of the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-8636742598807330796?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/8636742598807330796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=8636742598807330796' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8636742598807330796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8636742598807330796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/10/worst-ten-minutes-of-day.html' title='The Worst Ten Minutes of the Day'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-5975917034932737477</id><published>2011-10-13T16:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-13T16:49:18.290-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oreo'/><title type='text'>I'm Going With</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When we first adopted Oreo, he wasn't happy about getting into the mini-van.&amp;nbsp;It was a battle just to get him near the vehicle and getting him in wasn't any easier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;His first long trip in the mini-van didn't go well until we let him sit between the girls' seats.&amp;nbsp; Since then, he has been a travelling dog.&amp;nbsp; His seat is now in the back by the window.&amp;nbsp; Whenever he's in the mini-van, he heads right there.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes he sits there even after we've come home and gone into the house -- just in case we decide to go someplace else, he's ready.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now we've gotten to the point that if the mini-van is outside and he sees it, Oreo will not go in the garage.&amp;nbsp; He sits by the front door wagging his tale as if to say, "Nope.&amp;nbsp; I'm not going in the garage.&amp;nbsp; I'm going with."&amp;nbsp; He's like a child who is afraid he is going to miss something.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It's really annoying when you are trying to get out of the house and you have to negotiate with the dog to get him into the garage.&amp;nbsp; It&amp;nbsp;used to be that any treat would send him happily wagging his tail into the garage.&amp;nbsp; Now treats are just ignored as he sits by the door waiting to go into the mini-van.&amp;nbsp; Eventually he does go into the garage, but he's not happy about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Of course, as with so many things, there is an upside to his wanderlust.&amp;nbsp; Once in a while Oreo will get out of the house or off his leash.&amp;nbsp; He doesn't go far.&amp;nbsp; Usually he runs around the house like it's a racetrack.&amp;nbsp; We don't chase him as we already know we cannot catch him.&amp;nbsp; We used to hold a treat and call his name until he ran around enough that he was tired and came back.&amp;nbsp; Now we just pull out the mini-van and open a door.&amp;nbsp; He runs right in and plops down on his seat.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes&amp;nbsp;we drive around the block and come back.&amp;nbsp; Other times we just drive into the garage and close the door.&amp;nbsp; Either way he's happy because he got to ride in the mini-van.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-5975917034932737477?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/5975917034932737477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=5975917034932737477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5975917034932737477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5975917034932737477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/10/im-going-with.html' title='I&apos;m Going With'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-5199707394731351342</id><published>2011-10-10T10:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T10:29:49.624-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Best When?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard at our house...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Did you get this at Best Buy?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "Did we get what at Best Buy?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond Twin:&amp;nbsp; "The honey."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "Why would we buy honey at Best Buy?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond Twin:&amp;nbsp; "On the back it says best by."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom (laughing):&amp;nbsp; "No baby, that means it tastes best before that date.&amp;nbsp; It's not buy like you purchase something.&amp;nbsp; It's by like a due date."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Ohh, that makes sense.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I thought it was funny that you'd buy honey at Best Buy."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-5199707394731351342?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/5199707394731351342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=5199707394731351342' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5199707394731351342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5199707394731351342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/10/best-when.html' title='Best When?'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-4344689707899844173</id><published>2011-10-09T09:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-09T20:58:08.785-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Role Reversal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When we rehabbed the family room, we added a surround sound system.&amp;nbsp; It really spoiled us.&amp;nbsp; There are a few songs I think sound much better when played a little louder than normal.&amp;nbsp; A few of them happen to be songs by artists the girls really like.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Every time I turn up a song, the girls start saying, "Mom, turn it down.&amp;nbsp; It's too loud!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Really?&amp;nbsp; I thought it was my job to tell them the music was too loud.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Knowing that it annoys them when I turn up the music, I often use this as a discpline technique.&amp;nbsp; When they start fighting, I'll crank up a song until they cannot hear each other anymore.&amp;nbsp; They stop arguing and yell in unison, "Mom, turn it down.&amp;nbsp; It's too loud."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;There are some benefits to this role reversal after all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-4344689707899844173?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/4344689707899844173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=4344689707899844173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4344689707899844173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4344689707899844173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/10/role-reversal.html' title='Role Reversal'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-8961871615695017843</id><published>2011-10-07T14:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T14:20:06.380-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Letting People Know</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;A neighborhood friend, whose daughters play with our girls, stopped by the other day.&amp;nbsp; She said, "What is going on?&amp;nbsp; I haven't talked to you in forever."&amp;nbsp; I went on to tell her about Dad's death and all the other stuff going on.&amp;nbsp; She said, "What a crappy summer for your family."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She's right of course, but I realized something as I was talking to her.&amp;nbsp; There's no avoiding what happened.&amp;nbsp; If I don't get out and tell people, then there's no way to reconnect with everyone.&amp;nbsp; The girls' closest friends and their families all know.&amp;nbsp; I told them about Marlene and Dad if for no other reason than I didn't want them to be surprised if the girls mentioned it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The reality is that I have been trying to avoid it, but it's really not possible.&amp;nbsp; I recognize now that it's best to tell people on our terms -- when and where we want -- rather than during random conversations.&amp;nbsp; I had an awkward exchange with another Mom at the grocery store one day.&amp;nbsp; How's your Dad?&amp;nbsp; Well, he died.&amp;nbsp; How's your brother?&amp;nbsp; Well, his wife and father died within a few months of each other, so not well.&amp;nbsp; He's doing the best he can.&amp;nbsp; So sorry, time to get some bananas before dance class.&amp;nbsp; She was sincere, but let's just say the cereal aisle isn't the place for that kind of update.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;A lot of people know something is going on because we've been so out of touch.&amp;nbsp; Usually we're organizing groups for free concerts or play dates or library events.&amp;nbsp; We haven't done any of it because we didn't know what was going to happen two or three weeks in advance.&amp;nbsp; Those days are over, so it's time for me to get back in touch and work through all the conversations so we can all move on.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-8961871615695017843?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/8961871615695017843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=8961871615695017843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8961871615695017843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8961871615695017843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/10/letting-people-know.html' title='Letting People Know'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-5280182284027271286</id><published>2011-10-06T08:37:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T08:40:59.919-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='car seats'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>The End of the Booster Seats</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard in the minivan...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Hey!&amp;nbsp; Mom! Didn't you say that we'd be out of booster seats when we turned eight?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom starts laughing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond Twin:&amp;nbsp; "We don't need to be in booster seats?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "Nope."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Why are we still in booster seats?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "I was waiting for one of you to remember that you could get out now that you are eight."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Let's get them out of the van today."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "Okay.&amp;nbsp; Remind Daddy when we get home."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Oh yeah.&amp;nbsp; It will be the first thing I tell him."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-5280182284027271286?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/5280182284027271286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=5280182284027271286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5280182284027271286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5280182284027271286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/10/end-of-booster-seats.html' title='The End of the Booster Seats'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-5615033355614356321</id><published>2011-10-05T14:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T14:55:24.837-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='public schools'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='math'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Making an Effort</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;After the school tested the girls -- yet again -- to see if they should move into the advanced math class, the principal called.&amp;nbsp; She said one girl was clearly ready and the other was one point below the required score.&amp;nbsp; She said one girl would be moved in January when they make the across-the-grade-level adjustments.&amp;nbsp; I expressed my concern that by January the girls would be so far behind that they wouldn't be able to catch-up.&amp;nbsp; (Ok, one girl in particular, but I'm assuming that the other girl will test in.)&amp;nbsp; We talked for a bit about what the school was going to do to keep them challenged until a move was made.&amp;nbsp; I felt better when I hung up the phone.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It seemed like we were making progress until I explained it to my husband.&amp;nbsp; When the words started coming out of my mouth I realized how crazy it all was.&amp;nbsp; If one twin was ready, then she should be moved now.&amp;nbsp; What was she going to do until January?&amp;nbsp; Sit and review stuff she already knew?&amp;nbsp; This morning I emailed the principal asking why January was the transfer date.&amp;nbsp; I also asked her what the advanced class was doing now through January.&amp;nbsp; I told her we'd home school the girls in math until a transfer was made.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;To her credit she called me a bit ago.&amp;nbsp; She said they were going to move up the transfer dates to the end of the first quarter -- about three weeks from now.&amp;nbsp; One twin would go for certain.&amp;nbsp; The other twin's transfer depends on her next test score.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I talked to my husband and we're okay with this.&amp;nbsp; First, the one twin will be moved up quickly.&amp;nbsp; Second, once, she's in the program, we'll be able to work with her sister based upon the homework that comes home every day.&amp;nbsp; They might not both be in -- depending upon the&amp;nbsp;next test -- but that doesn't mean they both won't benefit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Of course, we're not telling the girls about a possible transfer until it happens.&amp;nbsp; They said they would be fine being separated, so that's not a concern.&amp;nbsp; We just don't want to get anyone's hopes up only to have them dashed again.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-5615033355614356321?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/5615033355614356321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=5615033355614356321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5615033355614356321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5615033355614356321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/10/making-effort.html' title='Making an Effort'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-2137580254801751091</id><published>2011-10-03T12:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T12:59:07.061-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='public schools'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='math'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Public School Frustrations</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I am so frustrated with our local public school that I have a headache.&amp;nbsp; Our school has an advanced math class that requires certain test scores at four different data points for placement.&amp;nbsp; Our girls missed placement by less than one point&amp;nbsp;on one of the&amp;nbsp;four data points, and one full point on another data point.&amp;nbsp; Yes, because they missed one mark by .4 and .8 and another mark by one point, they are not in the advanced class.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The standard class is dong work the girls mastered in the first semester of first grade.&amp;nbsp; This class won't be doing the same work the girls were doing at the end of first grade until the end of second grade.&amp;nbsp; Of course, this didn't sit well with me.&amp;nbsp; I asked what the school was going to do to differentiate the standard math class since it didn't make sense that children who missed the advanced class by a point or two should do the same math as students who scored in the 70th percentile.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;After speaking with the principal, I learned that more than 20 second grade students are in the same position as the girls.&amp;nbsp; To me, this says the school needs to work to meet the needs of these students.&amp;nbsp; To the school, this means they need to "consider options."&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The problem, as the principal explained it, is if they start another math level in second grade, it won't carry over to third, fourth or fifth grades.&amp;nbsp; Of course, I said, "Why not?"&amp;nbsp; She said it's still in discussions, but it's not really what the math teachers think would be most beneficial.&amp;nbsp; After our conversation, I realized that the only option that interests me is the option to move them to the advanced math class if they meet the first quarter standard after their next assessment test.&amp;nbsp; Of course, we could end up in the same position where they miss the advance class by a point -- or by a fraction of a point.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;In other words, we're going to have to home school the girls in math if we want them to advance.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I understand that public schools are about providing a minimum education to all students, but public schools are leaving behind a whole class of students who are really bright.&amp;nbsp; In political campaigns and on news shows, we talk about the need to provide our students with more advanced math, but when faced with a cohort of students who need more advanced math, the answer is to simply wait until the next test.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;After all, why spend resources on students who already test at the top of the class?&amp;nbsp; It's more important to focus on the bottom so the overall test scores look good. No matter what educators say, this is the reality of public education today.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-2137580254801751091?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/2137580254801751091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=2137580254801751091' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2137580254801751091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2137580254801751091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/10/public-school-frustrations.html' title='Public School Frustrations'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-1436721086132725099</id><published>2011-09-29T09:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T09:32:23.733-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='night terrors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Banned Books in Our House</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls are really into chapter books these days.&amp;nbsp; There are a couple of series they really like, but the blond twin is no longer allowed to read one of their favorites.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;For the past few nights, she has been waking up a lot and crying.&amp;nbsp; We thought she had outgrown night terrors, but this week they&amp;nbsp;returned in a dramatic way.&amp;nbsp; The first night she was up we thought she ate too many apples when we went apple-picking.&amp;nbsp; The second night we thought she might be getting sick.&amp;nbsp; The third night she finally admitted that she couldn't sleep because of the Goosebumps book she was reading.&amp;nbsp; When she was little, every scary creature or wicked witch kept her up at night.&amp;nbsp; We thought she outgrew this since she no longer woke up every time she watched a new movie.&amp;nbsp; It turns out the night terrors simply&amp;nbsp;adapted to her new interest.&amp;nbsp; Scary books brought&amp;nbsp;back her night terrors.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Let's just say it's really, really no fun when she has night terrors.&amp;nbsp; No one sleeps much and we're all physically and mentally exhausted the next day.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;To prevent this from happening again anytime soon, she is not allowed to read the Goosebumps series.&amp;nbsp; We explained that she is welcome to read any other chapter book, but since the Goosebumps books keep her up at night she cannot read them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The brunette twin didn't like this development at all.&amp;nbsp; She loves the Goosebumps series.&amp;nbsp; We told her that as long as it didn't keep her up at night she could read the books.&amp;nbsp; She is not allowed to share them with her sister either by telling her about the story or reading any part of it to her.&amp;nbsp; If she feels the need to share, she has to talk to Mommy or Daddy where the blond twin cannot hear it.&amp;nbsp; She agreed to the plan.&amp;nbsp; As long as she can read her books, she's a happy girl.&amp;nbsp; Plus, when the blond twin doesn't sleep, the brunette twin doesn't sleep.&amp;nbsp; And if there's one thing the brunette twin loves as much as her sister it's a good night's sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-1436721086132725099?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/1436721086132725099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=1436721086132725099' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1436721086132725099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1436721086132725099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/banned-books-in-our-house.html' title='Banned Books in Our House'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-6900627149535049192</id><published>2011-09-27T09:53:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T09:56:19.011-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The New York Times'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='What if the Secret to Success is Failure'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Does Failure Drive Success?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;***Originally posted to the &lt;a href="http://thechicagomoms.com/2011/09/does-failure-drive-success-rtp/"&gt;Chicago Moms blog&lt;/a&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;At our daughters’ elementary school, there is a lot of talk about character education. Schools have latched on to the idea that being a good person is as important as being a smart person. I like the idea because I think anything that helps kids understand that hard-work, personal connections and good character are important for future success builds a solid foundation for a well-lived life. We talk about this at home, and it’s helpful that the school reinforces it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;A recent &lt;em&gt;New York Times&lt;/em&gt; article &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/18/magazine/what-if-the-secret-to-success-is-failure.html?pagewanted=3&amp;amp;_r=1&amp;amp;sq=failure&amp;amp;st=cse&amp;amp;scp=1"&gt;What if the Secret to Success Is Failure?&lt;/a&gt; brought all my random thoughts into one nicely packaged story. The article tells the story of two very different high schools and how each principal is looking at using character education as a major component of education reform.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;In a nutshell, the principals looked at their most successful students and found that grades don’t correlate to higher education success. We all can relate to this idea. We all knew people in high school who were supposed to change the world and didn’t quite meet expectations. We also know people who seemed above average, but no one predicted their future success.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;There were many parts of the article that I really agreed with, but perhaps this statement is the one all parents need to consider: “Cohen and Fierst told me that they also see many Riverdale parents who, while pushing their children to excel, also inadvertently shield them from exactly the kind of experience that can lead to character growth.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It’s an institutional challenge parents who agree with them — like us — face. When our daughters came home with paper after paper with “fantastic” or “perfect” on them, I asked for more challenging work. The teacher was a bit taken back. She said that most parents would be thrilled their children found school so easy. I explained that if it was so easy that they weren’t getting any questions wrong, they weren’t learning anything. She said she never had a parent with my attitude. She also stepped up the work to challenge them more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We’re parents who try to shield our daughters from a lot of hardships. They don’t watch the news. They aren’t food insecure. They have a nice, middle-class house in a good school district with plenty of opportunities to participate in programs at the library, park district and school. Still, I do believe that there is something to the idea that they have to build character through struggle. When they struggle to learn a new piano piece, I secretly take pride in their frustrations. I don’t want to tell them that I think it’s good for them to become frustrated, but we do talk about how important it is to keep working on it until they finally figure out the music. When they have to ask me how to pronounce a word or what a word means, I know they are reading a book that challenges them to learn something new.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;As the article points out, we have a biological need to protect our children. This hasn’t changed since we had to protect them from wild animals and harsh conditions. Now, though, our instincts to protect our children might just prevent them from creating what the authors describe as a good life that’s not just happy, but also meaningful and fulfilling. It’s a personal and cultural shift that requires all of us to look inside to see how we can balance our need to protect them with the need for them to build character — even if it means they suffer a little once in a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-6900627149535049192?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/6900627149535049192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=6900627149535049192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6900627149535049192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6900627149535049192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/does-failure-drive-success.html' title='Does Failure Drive Success?'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-1381562791313038224</id><published>2011-09-25T20:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T20:41:46.780-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Brunette Appreciation Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We're going to declare brunette appreciation day for all the time she spends keeping her twin occupied.&amp;nbsp; Really, I know she loves her twin, but keeping her busy is a full-time job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I remembered this today while we were driving to apple picking.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin saw quietly reading a book.&amp;nbsp; This meant the blond twin was on her own to entertain herself.&amp;nbsp; There were so many, many things she could have done from draw pictures to read a book.&amp;nbsp; Of course, she wanted to talk to us.&amp;nbsp; Since Daddy was driving, this meant I chatted with her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;For more than an hour we jumped from topic to topic to topic to topic.&amp;nbsp; Her brain moved at a rapid pace and everything she was thinking came straight at me.&amp;nbsp; I really had to pay attention to keep up with her.&amp;nbsp; By the time we got to the orchard, my mind was mush.&amp;nbsp; The girl had worn me down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;On the way home, the blond twin read a book.&amp;nbsp; When given the option of chatting with Mommy or sitting quietly, the brunette twin decided to sit quietly and relax.&amp;nbsp; Just one more reason we're going to host Brunette Appreciate Day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-1381562791313038224?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/1381562791313038224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=1381562791313038224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1381562791313038224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1381562791313038224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/brunette-appreciation-day.html' title='Brunette Appreciation Day'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-5885531026013371404</id><published>2011-09-24T09:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T09:55:02.479-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='piano lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='late'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>What Time is It?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard at our house about 9:35 a.m.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "What have you been doing up here?&amp;nbsp; Move it.&amp;nbsp; We're going to be late for piano lessons.&amp;nbsp; I'm tired of being late all the time.&amp;nbsp; Get moving."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard at our house about 9:40 a.m.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "Seriously, what are you doing?&amp;nbsp; Decide what you are going to wear.&amp;nbsp; Floss and brush your teeth.&amp;nbsp; Brush your hair. When you're done in the bathroom, get your music together and in your piano bag."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard at our house about 9:45 a.m.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "Girls what do I have to do to get you moving?&amp;nbsp; Piano lessons start soon.&amp;nbsp; We need to leave right now.&amp;nbsp; Are your piano bags ready?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond twin:&amp;nbsp; "Um, Mom, remember that Miss Anna changed piano lessons so she could sleep in."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "Oh, that's right. Piano lessons don't start until 10:30 now.&amp;nbsp; We're really not late for a change."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Yeah.&amp;nbsp; We're not late!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-5885531026013371404?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/5885531026013371404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=5885531026013371404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5885531026013371404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5885531026013371404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/what-time-is-it.html' title='What Time is It?'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-869959067140629267</id><published>2011-09-22T18:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T18:30:19.854-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='back to school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clothing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>The First Clothing Casualty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This is a great time of the year.&amp;nbsp; The girls are back in school, with new socks, pants, shirts, etc.&amp;nbsp; All their drawers are stuffed and their hangers full.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;From this point on it only goes downhill.&amp;nbsp; Usually it's a shirt that goes first.&amp;nbsp; Something ends up as a permanent stain in a place we cannot hide.&amp;nbsp; This year it was a pair of grey pants.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It is hard to understand exactly how the blond twin ended up crying on an asphalt driveway, but there she was on the walk home today.&amp;nbsp; She managed to skin her knee and rip her pants in one quick movement.&amp;nbsp; She shrieked and moaned until I finally sat on the ground holding her.&amp;nbsp; This didn't work to her advantage as I did point out that for all the noise, there were no tears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She did manage to work it with her sister, of course.&amp;nbsp; Within moments the brunette twin was carrying her sister's backpack and lunchbox.&amp;nbsp; A few steps later the blond twin had her arm around her sister with her head on her shoulder.&amp;nbsp; The blond twin was leaning on her sister as if it was too painful to put her leg on the ground.&amp;nbsp; Seriously, she was working it.&amp;nbsp; The blond twin had so little blood on her scrapped knee that it didn't even show up on her light grey pants.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We had to call Daddy to tell him about the traumatic event that took place.&amp;nbsp; I tried not to laugh as I talked to him, but I was only partly successful.&amp;nbsp; We went another block or two before the brunette twin summed up the whole event in a few words, "Well, at least she didn't chip her front teeth."&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-869959067140629267?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/869959067140629267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=869959067140629267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/869959067140629267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/869959067140629267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/first-clothing-casualty.html' title='The First Clothing Casualty'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7752683892529002471</id><published>2011-09-21T13:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T13:01:39.402-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='television'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grandmother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All My Children'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soap operas'/><title type='text'>The End of All My Children</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When I was little, my Gramma Latimer watched stories all afternoon.&amp;nbsp; I'd sit with her and she'd tell me the storylines of each soap opera.&amp;nbsp; I didn't watch all of them regularly until college.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It was in college that we'd gather in the common area of our dorm to watch All My Children.&amp;nbsp; It was such a don't miss appointment that we'd schedule classes around it.&amp;nbsp; Long before VCRs and DVRs and Soapnet, I lost track of the show when I started working.&amp;nbsp; Strangely, companies frown upon employees watching TV during lunch breaks.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I picked up the soap again when I started working from home.&amp;nbsp; Before the girls, I spent the day by myself working at a computer.&amp;nbsp; All My Children was entertaining and mindless background noise.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This week All My Children ends.&amp;nbsp; It's sad because it's like my last connection with Gramma is gone.&amp;nbsp; It's time, though, for soap operas to fade to black.&amp;nbsp; Real life is so much crazier than anything they could get away with on network TV.&amp;nbsp; Times change. TV tastes change.&amp;nbsp; My memories of sitting in Gram's living room eating shortbread and watching&amp;nbsp;"stories"&amp;nbsp;stay, whether All My Children is on or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7752683892529002471?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7752683892529002471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7752683892529002471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7752683892529002471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7752683892529002471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/end-of-all-my-children.html' title='The End of All My Children'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-919588661537936343</id><published>2011-09-18T20:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T20:52:35.256-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='denim jackets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='activist parent'/><title type='text'>The Case of the Missing Denim Jackets</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This is the perfect weather for a cute denim jacket.&amp;nbsp; Last year, the girls had two really cute, embroidered denim jackets.&amp;nbsp; They were just adorable in these jackets.&amp;nbsp; I'd like to see them in the jackets, but I can't.&amp;nbsp; Somehow, some way, the jackets went missing this summer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;What?&amp;nbsp; You don't understand how we can lose two denim jackets in the middle of one of the hottest summers on record?&amp;nbsp; Well, neither do we.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Once we discovered both jackets were missing, we tore apart the house.&amp;nbsp; We moved to the minivan and garage.&amp;nbsp; We started calling people at whose homes we might have left the jackets.&amp;nbsp; No luck.&amp;nbsp; Now we're feeling really crazy.&amp;nbsp; It was so hot we kept the air conditioner running for weeks on end.&amp;nbsp; There were only a few times we even considered taking a jacket.&amp;nbsp; Still, the denim jackets are missing in action.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls do have other jackets, but those are nearly too small.&amp;nbsp; The denim jackets should fit perfectly.&amp;nbsp; If only we could find them they'd be adorable on the girls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-919588661537936343?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/919588661537936343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=919588661537936343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/919588661537936343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/919588661537936343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/case-of-missing-denim-jackets.html' title='The Case of the Missing Denim Jackets'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-8171024478573723702</id><published>2011-09-15T10:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T10:59:54.171-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='activist parent'/><title type='text'>Eight is Great!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard at our house...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Mom, what does it take to be eight?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "What do you mean?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Well, today's our birthday and we're eight.&amp;nbsp; How do you act eight?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "Just like seven with one extra day."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Happy birthday baby girls!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-8171024478573723702?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/8171024478573723702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=8171024478573723702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8171024478573723702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8171024478573723702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/eight-is-great.html' title='Eight is Great!'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-599998809657227596</id><published>2011-09-14T12:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T16:35:36.157-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vanessa Van Petten'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Radical Parenting'/><title type='text'>Inside the Mind of Teens</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Our girls aren't teens yet, but they are getting there quickly.&amp;nbsp; I like to read Vanessa Van Petten's Radicalparenting.com so I can start to understand what's going on with teens today.&amp;nbsp; Vanessa recently wrote a new book, which adds to her vast collection of teen insight.&amp;nbsp; She wrote the article below to help people understand what her books explores.&amp;nbsp; If you have a chance, check out her website and book.&amp;nbsp; For full disclosure, I didn't receive any money for posting this.&amp;nbsp; I just wanted to help out a blog pal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;*********************************&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Inside the Mind of Teens&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;by Vanessa Van Petten, creator of RadicalParenting.com and author of the parenting book, “&lt;em&gt;Do I Get My Allowance Before or After I’m Grounded?&lt;/em&gt;” (http://www.radicalparenting.com/books-and-products/book-youre-grounded/)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When I was 16 I thought it was my Dad’s goal in life to make me miserable. I was convinced that he had a running list of all the ways he could embarrass me in front of my friends, trick me into doing more chores or make my curfew earlier. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Our relationship would have continued to devolve until one day I saw my Dad reading a parenting book. I flipped through it while my Dad was in the bathroom and realized a lot of the things he did that drove me crazy he was getting right out of this book! I looked at the other parenting books on our shelves and realized that they were all written by adults. I wondered—has anyone ever asked teens to write to their parents?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9a2jw-xhTg&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I decided to build a website where teens could answer questions and write to parents called RadicalParenting.com. I couldn’t believe how quickly it grew and how happy both teens were to get their voices out and parents were to have a new outlet for connecting with their kids! We now have over 120 teen writers who give advice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Teenagers, when given a neutral space LOVE talking to parents and often offer some of the best insight because they are going through it themselves. We have also be so excited to help parents who feel like they cannot reach their kids and teens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I think teens and parents can work together to overcome their differences and learn to work best together. We have just come out with our book: Do I Get My Allowance Before or After I’m Grounded and it is a radical approach to parenting because it is written from the kid’s perspective! We would love for you to check it out—if you are brave enough to see what kids have to say!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;What is this book about?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So, you have to forget the old parenting book approach - this book gives parents a totally new way to reach their teenagers because it's the only book that tweens and teens helped write - so we are hearing first-hand advice that actually works! It gets right to the heart of the problems and offers straightforward prescriptive - and effective advice. This is a very different approach to parenting that tackles these modern problems.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;What makes this book different?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Before now there has only been resources written from one side of the family equation....the adults. This is the first book that gets both sides talking. What's more, the book goes a step further by using techniques that human lie-dectectors use: What does a teenager's face look like when they are lying? What questions do parents need to ask to get the truth?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;You are not a parent, what experience helps you write this book?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Actually me not being a parent is what makes teenagers feel comfortable opening up to me about what they really need from their parents. It allows me to be a translator for what parents need, what teens need and then bringing the two together so they can be on the same side.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;You are not a doctor, what experience helps you write this book?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;There are already amazing resources out there from doctors and psychologists, we take a very different approach to parenting. We believe that for most families there are really simple miscommunications happening that we just need to decode. With this book, I teach parents what kids really mean when they say, "I don't care" or "Can I have a later curfew." This is advice from teens in the trenches of family life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Here is what Publisher’s Weekly had to say:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;“Van Petten, founder of the popular Web site RadicalParenting.com, offers parents a candid view of the contemporary teen’s world in this eye-opening text. Van Petten uses actual stories about teens and their often anxious, angry, or befuddled parents to introduce each chapter. Pointing out that she is neither a parent nor a teen (nor a doctor, therapist, or counselor), the college-grad author has nevertheless earnestly investigated her subject and includes current research on teens as well as hundreds of “real quotes, interviews, e-mails and advice from actual teens.” Van Petten explores a variety of timely subjects, including peer relationships, teen/parent communication, bullying, technology, and “risky business” (smoking, drinking, sex, and more). Her outlook on technology and “Internet savvy” is particularly incisive, emphasizing not only the hazards of “time-suck” activities (i.e., Facebook, chatting on IM, and texting) but also the many social and academic benefits of the digital universe. Like a crafty spy, Van Petten comfortably segues from parent to teen perspective, and while noting that each adolescent is unique, she skillfully opens doors to the collective teen psyche. “&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;–&lt;em&gt;Publishers Weekly&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Vanessa Van Petten is one of the nation's youngest experts, or 'youthologists' on parenting and adolescents. She now runs her popular parenting website, RadicalParenting.com, which she writes with 120 other teenage writers to answer questions from parents and adults. Her approach has been featured by CNN, Fox News, and Wall Street Journal. She was also on the Real Housewives of Orange County helping the housewives with troubled teens. Her next book, "Do I Get My Allowance Before or After I'm Grounded?" is being released in September 2011 with Plume Books of Penguin USA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;(http://www.radicalparenting.com/books-and-products/book-youre-grounded/)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-599998809657227596?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/599998809657227596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=599998809657227596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/599998809657227596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/599998809657227596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/inside-mind-of-teens.html' title='Inside the Mind of Teens'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-6980681161393256380</id><published>2011-09-12T10:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-12T10:14:00.712-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='minature golf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Miniature Advantage</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard at our house...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette Twin:&amp;nbsp; "I cannot wait to go miniature golfing.&amp;nbsp; Gramma should be good at it.&amp;nbsp; You know why?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "No, why?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Because she's miniature so she should be good at miniature golf."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Both girls start laughing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;For the record, Gramma wasn't so good at miniature golf.&amp;nbsp; She did a respectable job, but being miniature didn't seem to be an advantage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-6980681161393256380?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/6980681161393256380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=6980681161393256380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6980681161393256380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6980681161393256380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/miniature-advantage.html' title='Miniature Advantage'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-5422893906406523379</id><published>2011-09-09T09:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T09:35:13.407-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Big Birthday Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;For at least a month now the girls have obsessed about their birthday.&amp;nbsp; They demanded I send their aunts and uncles a birthday list about a month ago.&amp;nbsp; They have been discussing options for their birthday parties daily.&amp;nbsp; Every day when I walk them to school they talk about their birthday.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This week we decided it was time to actually plan their birthday parties.&amp;nbsp; The girls have a friends party and a family party.&amp;nbsp; This year for their friends party, they decided to have a sleepover.&amp;nbsp; We told them they could only invite two friends.&amp;nbsp; I'm sure at some point we'll have ten giggly girls sleeping in their room, but this is our first sleepover, so we're keeping it small. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;They have a list of activities they have planned from decorating headbands to eating pizza on the couch while watching a movie.&amp;nbsp; They planned every part of it.&amp;nbsp; One friend is sleeping over, but we're still waiting to hear about the other one.&amp;nbsp; They are still a little young for sleepovers, so if she's not ready we'll have her over for all the stuff except sleeping over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The family party was a bit harder to plan.&amp;nbsp; We had a "we're having a party on this date at this time, yet we don't know where" save the date.&amp;nbsp; Our backyard -- the site of all previous birthday parties -- is still a construction zone.&amp;nbsp; We held out hope that it would be completed until this week.&amp;nbsp; We finally decided we needed a new location for the birthday party.&amp;nbsp; We found a nearby park district facility with batting cages, miniature golf and a party room.&amp;nbsp; It is now the site of the girls' eighth birthday bash this weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;After a few weeks of sadness, this weekend is all about fun.&amp;nbsp; It's time to lift the fog and start the party.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-5422893906406523379?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/5422893906406523379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=5422893906406523379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5422893906406523379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5422893906406523379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/big-birthday-weekend.html' title='Big Birthday Weekend'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-1217438563966827954</id><published>2011-09-07T12:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T12:39:32.623-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oreo'/><title type='text'>Earning His Keep</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Oreo is fiercely protective of our girls.&amp;nbsp; He doesn't like anyone or anything near his girls.&amp;nbsp; He even barks when Mommy or Daddy hug the girls.&amp;nbsp; Some days this drives me crazy.&amp;nbsp; I don't need the extra noise as I'm hugging the girls before they go to bed or trying to quickly put on their gloves&amp;nbsp;so we're not late for school.&amp;nbsp; Last week, I was completely grateful for his protectiveness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We were walking after his dinner when a stray pit bull ran up to us.&amp;nbsp; Oreo positioned himself between that dog and the girls.&amp;nbsp; When the blond twin shifted closer to me, he moved his body to block her.&amp;nbsp; He growled a low, quiet growl which actually scared me.&amp;nbsp; I just kept trying to figure out what I was going to do if that dog decided to attack us.&amp;nbsp; Oreo is too strong for me to control him if he decides to fight.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;There I was with the girls shaking, the dog growling, and my arm hurting as I tried to keep Oreo from lunging.&amp;nbsp; He really wasn't going anywhere, though, unless one of the girls moved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Luckily one of the neighbors saw what was happening and tried to grab the stray dog.&amp;nbsp; It had tags and a leash, so at least I knew it belonged to someone.&amp;nbsp; He distracted the dog so we could get away by going around the corner.&amp;nbsp; I kept saying "Thank you" as we walked away.&amp;nbsp; He just waived his hand as if to say "Get out of here."&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Oreo got a treat when he got home.&amp;nbsp; I always knew he'd protect the girls form strangers, but I never thought about protecting them from other dogs as part of his job until then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-1217438563966827954?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/1217438563966827954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=1217438563966827954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1217438563966827954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1217438563966827954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/earning-his-keep.html' title='Earning His Keep'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-2059218238650206299</id><published>2011-09-04T21:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-04T22:01:01.074-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Labor Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cleaning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><title type='text'>Moving On</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The first few days after Dad's funeral, I was just tired.&amp;nbsp; I didn't want to talk to anyone or do much of anything.&amp;nbsp; Of course, that's not really possible, so we jumped back into the girls' school schedule and went back to work.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now we're looking at recreating our "new normal."&amp;nbsp; For nearly a year Dad was in and out of the hospital, so it was hard to make plans much more than a few weeks ahead.&amp;nbsp; Our planning shortened to a week once Dad went into hospice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This Labor Day weekend is all about catching up.&amp;nbsp; There were a lot of things on our to do list this summer that didn't get done for many reasons.&amp;nbsp; Dad being sick was only one reason.&amp;nbsp; You add months of record heat followed by record rain and we spent many weekends wishing we could move something -- anything -- off the to do list.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We got our wish this weekend.&amp;nbsp; We're painting, cleaning and organizing.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It's not the most fun we can have during a long holiday weekend, but it's a&amp;nbsp;good way to mark the changes -- both in the weather and in our family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;There's something therapeutic about cleaning and organizing that makes me feel like we're making progress.&amp;nbsp; It's a feeling I plan to keep as I attack the basement -- not today, but maybe tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-2059218238650206299?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/2059218238650206299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=2059218238650206299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2059218238650206299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2059218238650206299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/moving-on.html' title='Moving On'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-2587501691113813047</id><published>2011-08-30T20:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T20:08:21.955-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funeral'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Funeral Fashion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard at the funeral home just before Dad's service...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond twin standing in front of Grampa's casket:&amp;nbsp; "Gramma, why is Grampa wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Gramma:&amp;nbsp; "Well, he didn't get them dirty yesterday, so he wore the same thing."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond twin:&amp;nbsp; "That makes sense.&amp;nbsp; Plus, he likes the Blackhawks, so why would he change it?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-2587501691113813047?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/2587501691113813047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=2587501691113813047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2587501691113813047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2587501691113813047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/funeral-fashion.html' title='Funeral Fashion'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-3397084779628385067</id><published>2011-08-28T09:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T09:02:27.487-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funeral'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Living in Limbo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;There's this weird time between when someone dies and when the services are held that is like living in limbo.&amp;nbsp; In our family the time is a bit longer than normal because we're spread all over the country.&amp;nbsp; You have to allow people a few days to arrive before anything can move forward.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We've used the time to finalize Dad's wake and funeral, of course.&amp;nbsp; We've also tried to take care of a few small house projects that have been neglected.&amp;nbsp; We took care of some errands and did some cleaning.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The big change to come from this limbo time is Daddy assembled the girls' bunk beds.&amp;nbsp; Their birthday present went from ready-to-assemble to ready-to-use.&amp;nbsp; There were a lot of little parts that looked alike to me.&amp;nbsp; It took him better part of one afternoon and the next morning to make happen, but he stayed focused until we rolled them into bed last night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The really big news came from the girls' end-of-the-year golf camp bar-b-que.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin won first place in the golf skills competition.&amp;nbsp; She bounced into Gramma's house beaming with her trophy in hand.&amp;nbsp; When we left yesterday, we forgot the trophy, so we had to go back to get it.&amp;nbsp; She won't leave it out of her sight for a moment.&amp;nbsp; She is so thrilled to have a trophy of her own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Sometimes when we're staining the patio chairs or cleaning the kitchen we can forget that we still have Dad's wake and funeral coming up.&amp;nbsp; Other times I start crying just because something reminds me of Dad.&amp;nbsp; It's one of the things that makes this time so difficult.&amp;nbsp; You can try to make it seem like business as usual, but there's sadness always in the background.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-3397084779628385067?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/3397084779628385067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=3397084779628385067' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/3397084779628385067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/3397084779628385067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/living-in-limbo.html' title='Living in Limbo'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-4386612289580528721</id><published>2011-08-24T20:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T20:47:05.653-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><title type='text'>Rest in Peace Dad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When I met with Mom and the hospice nurse on Monday, I called to tell both my brothers about the conversation.&amp;nbsp; She didn't sugar coat how close to death Dad was.&amp;nbsp; She also didn't make a prediction about when he would pass.&amp;nbsp; I told them both I hoped it was soon so Dad's suffering would be over.&amp;nbsp; I know that sounds callous, but it was really hard to watch my strong and independent father struggle for breath.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The call came today just after I brought the girls home from their first day of school.&amp;nbsp; By the time I arrived, Dad was already gone.&amp;nbsp; Officially the hospice nurse declared his time of death to be 4:00 p.m.&amp;nbsp; He was gone.&amp;nbsp; His suffering was over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;People kept telling me to talk to Dad about whatever was on my mind so I wouldn't have any regrets.&amp;nbsp; Last Saturday, probably the last really lucid day he had, I leaned over to kiss him goodbye.&amp;nbsp; I said, "I love you Dad."&amp;nbsp; He smiled and said, "I love you too Shari.&amp;nbsp; Kiss my girls for me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I'm not sure I could have any regrets with that as our last conversation.&amp;nbsp; Rest in peace Dad.&amp;nbsp; I love you and miss you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-4386612289580528721?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/4386612289580528721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=4386612289580528721' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4386612289580528721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4386612289580528721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/rest-in-peace-dad.html' title='Rest in Peace Dad'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-5019729392608927910</id><published>2011-08-24T11:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T11:13:22.808-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='second grade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>The First Day of Second Grade</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It's so hard to believe the girls are in second grade.&amp;nbsp; They are so much more mature and confident than I thought they would be at this age.&amp;nbsp; They&amp;nbsp;walked into the crowd and marched confidently to their class line as soon as they saw their teacher's name.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;The good news is their teacher is also a twin.&amp;nbsp; She talked to the girls about being a twin.&amp;nbsp; She talked a bit about how close she and her sister remain to this date.&amp;nbsp; I really like that she's a twin.&amp;nbsp; I don't have to explain anything about being a twin to her.&amp;nbsp; She gets it.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It took a few minutes, but they faltered a bit.&amp;nbsp; I stood with them for a while, chatting with their new teacher, greeting children we knew from previous years and talking to other parents.&amp;nbsp; When I thought they were set, I said, "Is it okay for me to go home?"&amp;nbsp; Surprisingly, the blond twin grabbed my hand and said, "Please don't go yet."&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Of course I stayed.&amp;nbsp; They are growing up, but they are still my babies.&amp;nbsp; I'll stay as long as they want.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-5019729392608927910?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/5019729392608927910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=5019729392608927910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5019729392608927910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5019729392608927910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/first-day-of-second-grade.html' title='The First Day of Second Grade'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-5210994999595537642</id><published>2011-08-23T10:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T10:08:18.517-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='back to school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>The Parenting Version of Oversleeping a Final Exam</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;You know that nightmare college students have about sleeping through a final exam?&amp;nbsp; I figured out the parenting version of it today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls, Oreo and I walked to their new school.&amp;nbsp; We walked around the back and talked about how I'd leave them on the playground in the morning and meet them in a specific spot after school.&amp;nbsp; I'll have Oreo, so I don't want to wander into the crowd.&amp;nbsp; I'll stand a little to the side.&amp;nbsp; Given the brunette twin's fear that we're going to leave her somewhere, I wanted to make sure she knew the system and was comfortable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We were walking back when I saw one of their friends all dressed up for the first day of school with her backpack and a bunch of flowers for her new teacher.&amp;nbsp; My first thought was "Why is she going to school?&amp;nbsp; Do they really have school today?&amp;nbsp; How did I screw up the first day of school? AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"&amp;nbsp; My second thought was&amp;nbsp;"Okay, they cannot have school today because there isn't a crossing guard at the corner.&amp;nbsp; It's only Tuesday and they start school on Wednesday.&amp;nbsp; I don't see any other kids, so it cannot be the first day of school.&amp;nbsp; Breath.&amp;nbsp; Relax.&amp;nbsp; It's not the first day of school.&amp;nbsp; Breath.&amp;nbsp; Relax.&amp;nbsp; It's okay.&amp;nbsp; Breath.&amp;nbsp; Relax."&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Even though I knew it wasn't the first day of school, I felt a momentary panic.&amp;nbsp; The adrenaline rush stayed until we arrived home and I checked the calender.&amp;nbsp; I was certain, but I needed that black-n-white confirmation.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-5210994999595537642?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/5210994999595537642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=5210994999595537642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5210994999595537642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5210994999595537642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/parenting-version-of-oversleeping-final.html' title='The Parenting Version of Oversleeping a Final Exam'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7974376506124437154</id><published>2011-08-20T20:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T20:42:24.280-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hospice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Five Months and Counting</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When Dad went into hospice back in March, the doctor said, "No more than six months.&amp;nbsp; He's just not strong enough to make it more than that."&amp;nbsp; The hospice team took Dad off most of his medications and he seemed to rally.&amp;nbsp; He was more mobile, more alert, more like his old self -- a sicker, frailer version, but still his sense of humor and memory returned.&amp;nbsp; For a while we thought the doctor was wrong.&amp;nbsp; A six month deadline just wasn't going to happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;During the past week, we've come to the realization that my Dad is nearing his end.&amp;nbsp; He has been struggling to move around.&amp;nbsp; He has been having a harder time breathing.&amp;nbsp; He is a funny color.&amp;nbsp; He is not hungry.&amp;nbsp; He's tired all the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Today really put it all in perspective.&amp;nbsp; Mom called to say that she didn't think it was a good idea for us to bring the girls over.&amp;nbsp; She said, "They shouldn't see Grampa like that."&amp;nbsp; What she meant was my Dad slept the day away and wouldn't wake up for more than a minute or two when she tried to talk to him.&amp;nbsp; He didn't want to eat.&amp;nbsp; He didn't take his medicine.&amp;nbsp; He just wanted to sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;By the time I arrived, his hospice nurse was there.&amp;nbsp; After examining Dad, she said he was as good as he could be.&amp;nbsp; She gave us new instructions about not taking him out of the house.&amp;nbsp; She discussed his swollen arms and legs.&amp;nbsp; She talked about the progression of the disease.&amp;nbsp; She said nothing was "imminent," but she didn't give false hope.&amp;nbsp; Dad will have better days ahead, but they will be far and few between from now on.&amp;nbsp; He's failing in front of our eyes.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The six month deadline is coming up and it looks real now.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;No matter how much we hoped he was wrong, the doctor seems to be on track.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7974376506124437154?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7974376506124437154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7974376506124437154' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7974376506124437154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7974376506124437154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/five-months-and-counting.html' title='Five Months and Counting'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-6130541952673686754</id><published>2011-08-19T07:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T07:46:40.801-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='patio'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Finally, the Beginning</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I have to admit there were many times I thought this day would never come. This morning the concrete guys arrived to break-up the old patio and sidewalk. It's the first step in really finishing our backyard project.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It's a noisy step too be certain. We warned the neighbors that the demolition was starting today. Sure enough the first thing to show up in the backyard were the jackhammers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;The girls are sitting at the patio doors watching them work like it's a TV show.&amp;nbsp; They are full of comments and observations.&amp;nbsp; Who knew watching people break-up concrete was so interesting?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I've already taken some painkillers. There's no place in the house that you don't feel the vibrations and hear the noise. I'm sure there are more painkillers on the schedule today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The thing I hadn't thought about was how long this will take. I figured they'd be here early and out quickly, but I just realized I'm wrong. One of the crew just unloaded their lunch cooler and water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-6130541952673686754?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/6130541952673686754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=6130541952673686754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6130541952673686754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6130541952673686754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/finally-beginning.html' title='Finally, the Beginning'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-6101902209975304338</id><published>2011-08-18T11:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T11:13:54.559-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bunk beds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedroom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Moving On Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls have been obsessed with bunk beds ever since they spent a couple of nights in bunk beds at Walt Disney World.&amp;nbsp; They have asked for bunk beds over and over and over and over and over again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;They finally wore us down.&amp;nbsp; For their birthday, we're getting them bunk beds.&amp;nbsp; We spent some time in furniture stores, but ended up buying them from Target for a fraction of the furniture store price.&amp;nbsp; The furniture store bunk beds were beautiful, solid pieces of furniture.&amp;nbsp; If we thought this was a long-term purchase, we would have spent the money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The reality is the girls are turning eight years old.&amp;nbsp; If they stick with the bunk beds for four or five years, I think we'll be lucky.&amp;nbsp; We're going to let them decorate their bunk beds with butterfly stickers that we recently picked up.&amp;nbsp; The stickers are for walls, but that doesn't mean they won't be adorable on the beds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We're also letting them do a bit more redecorating.&amp;nbsp; They declared their curtains&amp;nbsp;and wall decorations to be "for babies."&amp;nbsp; They are big on removing anything babyish from their world.&amp;nbsp; Of course, a lot of it was pink, which was recently banned from their world, so I'm sure that didn't help save the curtains.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls spent several afternoons with Jayne going through stores and deciding on colors.&amp;nbsp; They chose lime green and bright blue as the new color scheme.&amp;nbsp; We bought new rugs at Ikea and curtains at Target.&amp;nbsp; I told them they'd have to live with the bright yellow paint on the walls.&amp;nbsp; I'm willing to swap out rugs and curtains, but painting is bigger project.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Their new bedroom should be ready by their birthday.&amp;nbsp; It's the first time they made their own decorating decisions, but I'm sure it won't be the last.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-6101902209975304338?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/6101902209975304338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=6101902209975304338' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6101902209975304338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6101902209975304338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/moving-on-up.html' title='Moving On Up'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-949649545430073460</id><published>2011-08-15T11:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T11:58:03.898-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='activist parent'/><title type='text'>Second Grade Sneaky</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls think they are so sneaky, but they are in that innocent sneaky stage still.&amp;nbsp; They giggle because they think they are getting away with something without realizing they've forgotten to cover their tracks so eventually they will get caught.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We find things like candy wrappers stuffed into their toybox and juice boxes in the basement garbage can.&amp;nbsp; They try to sneak some contraband like markers or pens upstairs by putting it behind their backs and trying not to laugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Today I opened the freezer to get some ice cubes.&amp;nbsp; I saw the M&amp;amp;M bag open.&amp;nbsp; We have been keeping a big bag of M&amp;amp;Ms in the freezer during the hot weather.&amp;nbsp; I hadn't eaten them and I'm pretty sure Oreo didn't suddenly develop the skills to get into the freezer.&amp;nbsp; Even if he did, I doubt M&amp;amp;Ms would be his first choice.&amp;nbsp; One of the girls sneaked into the freezer to grab a handful.&amp;nbsp; Instead of wrapping the bag back down, the top was completely open.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I know I should be mad, but I find it so funny.&amp;nbsp; They are trying so hard to get away with something.&amp;nbsp; What's really funny is I'd probably give them the M&amp;amp;Ms if they asked.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-949649545430073460?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/949649545430073460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=949649545430073460' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/949649545430073460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/949649545430073460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/second-grade-sneaky.html' title='Second Grade Sneaky'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-4756729306888719603</id><published>2011-08-13T16:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-13T16:29:55.559-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Chicago Moms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reusable bags'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Plastic Please</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;***An original post for the &lt;a href="http://thechicagomoms.com/"&gt;Chicago Moms&lt;/a&gt; blog***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Once upon a time I was quite green. I collected reusable bags of all shapes and sizes. I had heavy duty plastic bags, insulated bags, mesh bags, and more. You name the reusable bag and I had it. I carried them everywhere. Plastic bags no longer graced our recycling bin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;About a year ago, my collection started gathering dust in the back of our mini-van. I rarely even look at them anymore. What changed you ask? We adopted a dog. We didn’t just adopt any old dog, but a beautiful, black-and-white Husky with the palest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. I always say he has the whitest eyes I’ve ever seen on a dog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;With a dog comes responsibilities such as cleaning up after the dog on walks. This is how my reusable bags ended up covered in dust. We use all kinds of plastic bags to do our duty as responsible dog owners, but the best bags are the ones you get at a store. Whether it’s a grocery store or a department store or a pharmacy, those bags are the best for what we need them for these days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Yes, we do use the plastic sleeves newspapers come in. The problem is that is really thin plastic. After all, how much does a newspaper weigh? More than once my nails have broken through and, well, let’s just say there was a lot of soap and a nail brush involved in the aftermath. This never happens with a bag designed to hold all your heavier items. I’ve never had a breakthrough with one of those bags.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So, these days I’m in line asking for plastic bags. Even as the cashier at Target tells me that I’d get money towards my purchase if I’d bring my own bags, I smile and say, “Can you put those in two bags, please?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Don’t judge me too harshly. I do it as part of my duty as a responsible dog owner. In a way I’m recycling by using the bags more than once. Even if I couldn’t take that as my effort to be green, I’d still collect plastic bags. They are the perfect size and strength for doggie duty — and I’m too cheap to pay for doggie waste bags.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-4756729306888719603?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/4756729306888719603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=4756729306888719603' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4756729306888719603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4756729306888719603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/plastic-please.html' title='Plastic Please'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-1699251859255372684</id><published>2011-08-10T11:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T11:31:53.079-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elton John'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gnomeo and Juliet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='piano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Improving Their Musical Tastes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;As soon as the movie Gnomeo and Juliet came out I started planning to take the girls.&amp;nbsp; First, it looked cute.&amp;nbsp; Second, it featured the music of Elton John.&amp;nbsp; A story they'd like with music I'd like?&amp;nbsp; What's not to like about that combination?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We went and it was fun.&amp;nbsp; The best part of it has been the after effects.&amp;nbsp; The girls are now interested in hearing more Elton John music.&amp;nbsp; They associate the songs with Gnomeo and Juliet, but also are intrigued that he plays piano.&amp;nbsp; We talk alot about how he can write the words, create the music and play and sing each song.&amp;nbsp; This is amazing to them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;In my world, the more Elton John the better.&amp;nbsp; We've seen him a couple of times in concert -- alone and with Billy Joel -- so we're fans.&amp;nbsp; The best part is it ups the music quality in our house.&amp;nbsp; It's not all Kidz Bops and Justin anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-1699251859255372684?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/1699251859255372684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=1699251859255372684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1699251859255372684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1699251859255372684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/improving-their-musical-tastes.html' title='Improving Their Musical Tastes'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7054314547677469443</id><published>2011-08-09T17:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T11:27:16.557-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Curious George'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>I am NOT Curious George</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The blond twin is not taking to the idea that she is actually Curious George.&amp;nbsp; Today she made an impassioned argument that she is actually Olivia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;"I'm bossy like Olivia.&amp;nbsp; I like to draw like Olivia.&amp;nbsp; I like to dance like Olivia.&amp;nbsp; I'm whiny like Olivia.&amp;nbsp; I like to read like Olivia."&amp;nbsp; She went on and on and on and on about why -- if she has to be a cartoon character -- she should be Olivia.&amp;nbsp; To her credit, the blond twin mixed Olivia's good qualities with her less-than-perfect qualities.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I finally said, "What's wrong with being Curious George?&amp;nbsp; You just said monkeys are your favorite animals."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She replied, "He's a boy.&amp;nbsp; In case you haven't noticed, I'm a girlie girl."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Oh, now I get it.&amp;nbsp; I guess we'll have to call her Curious Georgia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7054314547677469443?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7054314547677469443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7054314547677469443' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7054314547677469443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7054314547677469443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-am-not-curious-george.html' title='I am NOT Curious George'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-2856926505025473089</id><published>2011-08-05T21:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T21:07:49.157-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cartoons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Curious George'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Our Daughter Curious George</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We were watching cartoons one day when I realized that our blond twin is Curious George.&amp;nbsp; It's a perfect way to describe her.&amp;nbsp; Curious George is smart, so is the blond twin.&amp;nbsp; Curious George is always getting into trouble because he's, well, curious and so is the blond twin.&amp;nbsp; Curious George is always forgiven for the problems he causes because he's so cute, so is the blond twin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She wasn't amused when I told her that I thought she was Curious George.&amp;nbsp; She won't answer when she does something goofy and I call her George.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Most of all, though, she's obsessed with which cartoon character is most like the brunette twin.&amp;nbsp; Since I started calling her George, she's been offering her own suggestions.&amp;nbsp; I keep telling her that it doesn't work like that.&amp;nbsp; We cannot just decide the brunette twin's cartoon character.&amp;nbsp; It has to come to us, just like we realized she is Curious George.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-2856926505025473089?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/2856926505025473089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=2856926505025473089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2856926505025473089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2856926505025473089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/our-daughter-curious-george.html' title='Our Daughter Curious George'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-4840333212831919550</id><published>2011-08-02T14:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T14:59:00.651-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Susan Berger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Five Ways We Grieve'/><title type='text'>The Five Ways We Grieve</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;A few months ago I receive a review (aka free) copy of Dr. Susan A. Berger's book &lt;em&gt;The Five Ways We Grieve&lt;/em&gt;.&amp;nbsp; At the time I was interested because my father had just gone into hospice.&amp;nbsp; It seemed like something I should be reading.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Her basic idea is that&amp;nbsp;people grieve in one of five main ways:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Nomads who don't really deal with their grief&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Memorialists who spend their time preserving the lost loved one's memory&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Normalizers who try to figure out how to live in the new normal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Activists who try to help others dealing with the same disease or issue that took their loved one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Seekers who adopted a new life outlook to give their lives meaning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I didn't even have to read the entire book to know that I'm a normalizer.&amp;nbsp; From the time we knew Marlene died until now, we've tried to keep the girls' world as "summer normal" as possible. We want them to talk about Aunt 'Lene and remember her, but we also want them to do the fun things seven-year-olds do.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Dr. Berger talks about how people experience loss and how they develop a grieving type.&amp;nbsp; My type came from my high school experiences.&amp;nbsp; When I was a sophomore in high school, four&amp;nbsp;of my classmates died in one year.&amp;nbsp; It was a frightening time for all of us.&amp;nbsp; Wondering who was next consumed our thoughts and conversations.&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;In those days, you went to the wake, the funeral and the next day went back to take a math test.&amp;nbsp; We didn't have counselors in the school.&amp;nbsp; We just moved on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I'm not sure this is the healthiest way to deal with the death of a loved one.&amp;nbsp; I don't know which other way I should be dealing with grief, but normalizing is what I do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I think it's what we all do in our family.&amp;nbsp; All I know it's the way we're wired.&amp;nbsp; It's a series of choices we make to adapt to something that rocks our lives like a death.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Five Ways We Grieve&lt;/em&gt; was an instructional&amp;nbsp;way to think about grief without tying too many emotions into it.&amp;nbsp; I found it an interesting read that helped me understand my personal grief style and how it affects me and my family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-4840333212831919550?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/4840333212831919550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=4840333212831919550' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4840333212831919550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4840333212831919550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/08/five-ways-we-grieve.html' title='The Five Ways We Grieve'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-4089111278828311925</id><published>2011-07-29T14:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-29T14:42:01.485-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='driving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Backseat Driver</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Someday the brunette twin is going to start driving and I cannot wait.&amp;nbsp; While most parents dread the day their children drive, I'm looking forward to it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I'm going to be a total backseat driver.&amp;nbsp; I figure it's only appropriate given that she's such a backseat driver now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Here is&amp;nbsp;my favorite exchange from the past few days:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom, how fast are you going?&amp;nbsp; The speed limit signs says 40.&amp;nbsp; I don't think your speedometer is on 40.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;No, I'm going 42. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;You have to go exactly 40 or else you are speeding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It would be nice, but it is really hard to drive at the exact speed.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes you're a couple of miles over.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes you're a couple of miles under.&amp;nbsp; As long as you are not too fast, it's okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Well, I hope there isn't a police car around so you don't get a ticket.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She spends her time noticing -- and commenting on -- what everyone in every car around us is doing.&amp;nbsp; This person is on the phone.&amp;nbsp; That's bad isn't it?&amp;nbsp; This person is driving with only one hand on the wheel.&amp;nbsp; That's bad isn't it?&amp;nbsp; This person didn't use a turn signal when he turned.&amp;nbsp; That's bad isn't it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Oh yeah, all these things will come back to haunt her when she starts driving.&amp;nbsp; Until then I'll just keep filling my mental filing cabinet with all her favorite sayings.&amp;nbsp; I want to make sure to repeat them from the back seat when she starts driving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-4089111278828311925?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/4089111278828311925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=4089111278828311925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4089111278828311925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/4089111278828311925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/backseat-driver.html' title='Backseat Driver'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-8756147484895273565</id><published>2011-07-27T15:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T17:22:49.457-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Just Say Yes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;There has been so much going on lately that it has been hard to really relax.&amp;nbsp; I think we're doing a good job of keeping the girls' world as normal as possible, but it must be started to wear on us.&amp;nbsp; At least once a day, the brunette twin asks me, "Are you sad?&amp;nbsp; You look sad."&amp;nbsp; I always say I'm just tired, but it doesn't really convince her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We are tired, of course, but we are also sad.&amp;nbsp; Knowing how much sadness the girls have already experienced, continue to experience, and will experience soon, it makes me double my efforts to give them as normal a summer as possible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;They are the benefits of this mentality.&amp;nbsp; Lately I say yes to a lot of stuff I wouldn't normally agree to just because I want them to have some happy memories.&amp;nbsp; You want to have ice cream for snack after having brownies with lunch?&amp;nbsp; Yes, you can.&amp;nbsp; You want to go to a concert to see your friends when it's 90+ degrees at 7:00 p.m.?&amp;nbsp; Of course we'll go if your friends are going.&amp;nbsp; The blond twin wanted blond streaks, so we bought her Sun In.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin wanted a a big purse like her friend Morgan.&amp;nbsp; I found one on resale for $2.&amp;nbsp; Of course she carries the purse everywhere now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;You want to stay up late and play Wii?&amp;nbsp; Well, maybe not because they're still waking up about 7:00 a.m., no matter how late they go to bed.&amp;nbsp; Hey, even I have standards.&amp;nbsp; If they start sleeping later, we'll add that to the "of course" chorus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Today they had chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream for breakfast.&amp;nbsp; We went to lunch with some Florida relatives.&amp;nbsp; After lunch my aunt said, "Dessert anyone?"&amp;nbsp; Of course they had dessert.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I realize some parents would be screaming about how I should be teaching them they cannot have whatever they want and setting boundaries.&amp;nbsp; I realize it might seem like I'm spoiling them to make up for all the tears that fell, continue to fall and will fall.&amp;nbsp; Just last week we were driving to piano lessons when we passed a cemetery.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin started crying saying, "I miss Aunt 'Lene.&amp;nbsp; I don't want her to be dead."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So, yes.&amp;nbsp; I'm spoiling&amp;nbsp;them whenever we have the chance.&amp;nbsp; For me this summer is about pain and sorrow.&amp;nbsp; For them I want to find a better balance of silly stuff like chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and chocolate cake for lunch so their 2011 summer memories are not all about tears and sadness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-8756147484895273565?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/8756147484895273565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=8756147484895273565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8756147484895273565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8756147484895273565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/just-say-yes.html' title='Just Say Yes'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-9212987682125134502</id><published>2011-07-25T12:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-26T07:20:24.338-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heatwave'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sunshine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trees'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='air conditioners'/><title type='text'>For the Love of Shade</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When we bought our house, there was a house across the street with lots of old, mature trees.&amp;nbsp; We didn't have any trees in our front yard, but we had lots of afternoon shade from the trees across the street.&amp;nbsp; Plus, we worked all day, so we weren't home until later in the day.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Flash forward a few years and I'm working from home.&amp;nbsp; Suddenly I realize how much the burning, hot afternoon sun bakes our house in the summer.&amp;nbsp; Still, we have the trees across the street to provide some shade. Then the couple across the street sold their little house on the double-lot.&amp;nbsp; The contractor took down the house and removed most of the trees.&amp;nbsp; His plan was to divide the lot into two and build two houses.&amp;nbsp; Of course, he didn't get it started before the economy crashed.&amp;nbsp; The lots are still empty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We planted a couple of trees in the front yard, which have provided some shade.&amp;nbsp; This last heatwave convinced us that we need at least one more tree in the front yard to provide strategic shade to our house.&amp;nbsp; No matter how hard our air conditioner worked, the temperature in our bedroom as always uncomfortable.&amp;nbsp; We slept in 90+ temperatures several nights in a row.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Obviously there are other issues, like perhaps a broken attic fan, but some shade on our windows would help a lot.&amp;nbsp; If we have less sunshine baking our windows, it has to be cooler inside, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;If we had it to do over again, we'd plant a couple of trees in the front yard as soon as we moved into our house.&amp;nbsp; We didn't but we're catching up now.&amp;nbsp; We're about to plant our third tree in the front yard.&amp;nbsp; It's going to look a little crowded until the trees start to grow and separate a bit.&amp;nbsp; Once they get taller and provide some canopy shade, then we'll start to reap the benefits of our mini-forest.&amp;nbsp; It will take a while, but we know shade is coming. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-9212987682125134502?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/9212987682125134502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=9212987682125134502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/9212987682125134502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/9212987682125134502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/for-love-of-shade.html' title='For the Love of Shade'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-510111965793149852</id><published>2011-07-23T15:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T15:47:31.309-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pinocchio'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago Shakespeare Theater'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Cool Fun at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We recently had an opportunity to review Pinocchio at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater.&amp;nbsp; The short review is that we really enjoyed it.&amp;nbsp; For the full story, visit &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://twotimesthefunreviews.blogspot.com/2011/07/cool-fun-at-chicago-shakespeare-theatre.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;http://twotimesthefunreviews.blogspot.com/2011/07/cool-fun-at-chicago-shakespeare-theatre.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-510111965793149852?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/510111965793149852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=510111965793149852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/510111965793149852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/510111965793149852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/cool-fun-at-chicago-shakespeare-theater.html' title='Cool Fun at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-8750887322908088514</id><published>2011-07-20T10:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T10:32:10.557-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='princess'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>The Princess Magic is Gone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It happened so quickly that I almost didn't realize what was going on.&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin said, "Mom, Julianna said that Pocahontas is a real person and she died a long time ago."&amp;nbsp; Since Juliana was at our house about a week ago, she must have been thinking about this for a while before she decided to ask. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We talked how how Pocahontas was a real person before she became a Disney princess.&amp;nbsp; They were interested in whether or not the Disney story was close to the real story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Then it happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The brunette twin said, "So, are the other princess real stories too?&amp;nbsp; Or are they made up?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I answered, "The other princesses are real people, but their stories are not true in the same way that Poccahontis' story is true."&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;They both got it without another question.&amp;nbsp; The blond twin said, "Well, we cannot tell the little kids that the princesses aren't real.&amp;nbsp; It will make them cry."&amp;nbsp; The brunette twin agreed.&amp;nbsp; They both declared that they outgrew princesses anyway so it doesn't matter to them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Just like that, princesses aren't real.&amp;nbsp; They moved themselves to the side of the older kids who keep secrets to prevent the little kids from being sad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I was both proud and sad.&amp;nbsp; My babies are growing up to be lovely, thoughtful girls.&amp;nbsp; They didn't get upset that princesses aren't real.&amp;nbsp; They just worried about the little girls who might still believe in princesses.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Still, I'm a little sad that princesses are out of the picture.&amp;nbsp; The world is so simple when fairy dust can sure most problems and&amp;nbsp;princesses live happily ever after.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;What comes next won't be nearly as sweet and simple for any of us.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-8750887322908088514?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/8750887322908088514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=8750887322908088514' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8750887322908088514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8750887322908088514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/princess-magic-is-gone.html' title='The Princess Magic is Gone'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-944867060467540953</id><published>2011-07-19T13:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-19T13:35:41.264-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair color'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Let the Sun Shine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The blond twin is obsessed with being blond.&amp;nbsp; Recently I suggested that her hair was really more of a light brown than a true blond.&amp;nbsp; A few days later a friend noticed that the blond twin's hair was getting darker.&amp;nbsp; The blond twin defended her blondness both times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She keeps saying, "I'm blond just like my Daddy."&amp;nbsp; Of course, Daddy isn't really blond anymore, but that's a different topic.&amp;nbsp; She won't accept anything other than being blond like Daddy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Recently she had a chance to admire her cousin's really blond hair.&amp;nbsp; While Alyssa paid for her blond streaks, she did offer this to the blond twin, "You know, there's something called Sun In that my friends use to make their hair blonder."&amp;nbsp; Alyssa, her friend and the blond twin had a lengthy discussion about how Sun In works and where to buy it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;From that moment on, the blond twin has talked about Sun In.&amp;nbsp; Last Sunday I broke down and bought it for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Yes, I know I should be telling her that she's beautiful even if she's not blond.&amp;nbsp; I know I should not be encouraging her to buy in to the idea that she needs to do something to her hair to be beautiful.&amp;nbsp; Still, I stepped up to the counter and bought a bottle for each girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;While the brunette twin doesn't want to be blond, she does like the idea of having highlights.&amp;nbsp; They have a friend whose mom is a beautician.&amp;nbsp; This girl shows up with all kinds of crazy colors in her hair.&amp;nbsp; For Halloween she had orange streaks near her face.&amp;nbsp; One day she came to Daisies with pink streaks framing her face.&amp;nbsp; It's cute because she's so young.&amp;nbsp; If the brunette twin wants red highlights, I am okay with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Of course, I also told them that if they want to have pink or purple streaks they can.&amp;nbsp; The rule is they have to have normal color hair by the time they start looking for a job.&amp;nbsp; I made it clear I'm not okay with a head of pink hair, but a streak or two is fine with me.&amp;nbsp; It's probably something I should have cleared with Daddy first, but I didn't think about it.&amp;nbsp; While he doesn't care much about their hair, he might have an opinion on pink or blue streaks.&amp;nbsp; Now we'll never know since Mommy already gave the okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I figure that eventually they will lose the ability to wear pink streaks or spend summers in the sun so that their hair develops highlights.&amp;nbsp; If this is their idea of fun, so be it.&amp;nbsp; They should enjoy it while they can.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-944867060467540953?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/944867060467540953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=944867060467540953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/944867060467540953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/944867060467540953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/let-sun-shine.html' title='Let the Sun Shine'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-1502546433788897577</id><published>2011-07-17T08:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-17T08:25:01.950-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clutter'/><title type='text'>Just One Clutter Free Zone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;If I had one wish for our house it would be to have one completely clutter free zone.&amp;nbsp; The closest we come to my wish is our bedroom.&amp;nbsp; Unfortunately, I'm not spending a lot of leisure time in our bedroom to enjoy the clutterless state.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Instead I spend my days trying to clear surfaces.&amp;nbsp; I don't know when the papers and crayons multiply, but overnight they seem to triple or quadruple.&amp;nbsp; I haven't figure out yet how books reproduce, but they seem to do so in our house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;My husband and I are constantly nagging the girls to clear off the buffet, remove the junk from the breakfast bar or pick-up the shoes near the door.&amp;nbsp; We have a rule that they cannot take out a new toy or game until the last one is put away.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I am constantly cleaning closets and taking bags of stuff to our local charity resale shop.&amp;nbsp; I try to keep up with all the stuff they've outgrown -- clothes toys, shoes, coats, games, books, etc.&amp;nbsp; Still, we cannot seem to get a grip on the clutter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Once in a while I walk into the kitchen and can see all the surfaces.&amp;nbsp; It immediately makes me wonder how it happened.&amp;nbsp; What special force of nature brought together the fates so that the kitchen counters are all clean?&amp;nbsp; Then I realize all the junk was just moved to other rooms and we start all over again with the clutter busting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-1502546433788897577?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/1502546433788897577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=1502546433788897577' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1502546433788897577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1502546433788897577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/just-one-clutter-free-zone.html' title='Just One Clutter Free Zone'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-1049334153757812840</id><published>2011-07-15T10:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T13:59:53.516-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Past the Point of Being Believable</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I read an article in which the producers of the Good Wife discussed recent political scandals.&amp;nbsp; They were talking about how so many times you couldn't sell the story in Hollywood because the decision makers would say, "It was a good story until XYZ happened."&amp;nbsp; Their point was that real life is crazier than anything writers dream up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It's kind of how I feel about our world right now.&amp;nbsp; There is so much going on that we are well past the point of being believable.&amp;nbsp; My father is still in hospice care, and he's stable for the moment.&amp;nbsp; My brother is trying to rebuild his family after his wife's sudden death.&amp;nbsp; Now my mother might need surgery for her gallbladder.&amp;nbsp; It turns out she has a large gallstone, infection and fluid around her gallbladder.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Swirling around are other issues such as my brother's father-in-law is in kidney failure.&amp;nbsp; He had a transplant more than a decade ago.&amp;nbsp; It is failing now and he's too sick to be considered for a transplant.&amp;nbsp; As I told him the other day, "I'm not minimizing what you're going through because it's horrible, but think about your mother-in-law.&amp;nbsp; Within two months she lost her mother and daughter.&amp;nbsp; Now her husband is failing and the doctor's aren't even pretending he'll get better.&amp;nbsp; She's having a really, really bad year."&amp;nbsp; He just shook his head.&amp;nbsp; It's past the point of being believable on both sides of his extended family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;In some ways, we're just muddling through.&amp;nbsp; Everything gets done.&amp;nbsp; The girls are having a fun summer, although Aunt 'Lene weighs on their minds.&amp;nbsp; They randomly throw out questions that we answer as matter-of-factly as we can.&amp;nbsp; They are playing, swimming and having fun with friends.&amp;nbsp; It's what a summer should be for them, although there are times it's hard for us to make it happen for them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;If anyone would have said at the beginning of summer that my father would be the least of our worries, I wouldn't have believed him/her. Now that we're past the point of being believable, we're just numb to any more craziness.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-1049334153757812840?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/1049334153757812840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=1049334153757812840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1049334153757812840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1049334153757812840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/past-point-of-being-believable.html' title='Past the Point of Being Believable'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-8056400976206801912</id><published>2011-07-13T07:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T16:18:30.436-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='golf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Fore!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls have been taking golf lessons for a couple of summers now.&amp;nbsp; Many of my girlfriends told me they wished they played golf because so many business activities revolve around golf.&amp;nbsp; I wanted them to play because it's one of the few sports you can play for life.&amp;nbsp; (Really, how many high school volleyball players are still playing at 45?)&amp;nbsp; They were interested because Daddy plays and one of their cousins attends college on a golf scholarship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Last year the instructor said, "You know, the brunette twin has a really good swing.&amp;nbsp; If she keeps practicing, she could be pretty good."&amp;nbsp; I said, "Really?&amp;nbsp; That's good to know."&amp;nbsp; What I was thinking was, "Of course she has a good swing.&amp;nbsp; There are seven kids in your class and I'm paying for two of them."&amp;nbsp; Okay, I know that sounds a little cynical, but I know nothing about golf.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This year we moved to a new golf course for lessons.&amp;nbsp; This one is closer and the lessons are a at more convenient time.&amp;nbsp; The first day, the golf instructor watched the brunette twin and said, "I could put that girl on the cover of Golf Digest with that beautiful swing."&amp;nbsp; I said, "Really?&amp;nbsp; That's great."&amp;nbsp; What I was thinking was, "Ooops previous golf instructor.&amp;nbsp; I'm sorry I didn't believe you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Since then the brunette twin has basked in the attention her golf swing brings.&amp;nbsp; A couple of weeks ago she was at the driving range when a golf tournament was about to start.&amp;nbsp; She hit some beautiful balls.&amp;nbsp; They flew off the tee, arched and fell far away from her.&amp;nbsp; Several of the men commented loudly enough for us to hear.&amp;nbsp; One man said, "You think she'll hit the ball off the tee for me?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;She came over to me and whispered, "I'm going to hit some really far and impress the grown-ups."&amp;nbsp; Then she went back to the tee and whacked a few.&amp;nbsp; I have to admit they were pretty good shots.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The blond twin does not like all the attention her sister is getting.&amp;nbsp; It's harder for her to hit the ball -- mostly because she's not really paying attention.&amp;nbsp; We spend a lot of time explaining to the blond twin that she needs to focus on what she's doing.&amp;nbsp; Golf is no exception.&amp;nbsp; She hits some really nice shots here and there.&amp;nbsp; Her putting is better than her shots from the tee.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;While piano is the blond twin's thing, the brunette twin seems to have some natural golf ability.&amp;nbsp; Still, just as I told the brunette twin she cannot quit because her sister finds piano easier, we've had to talk to the blond twin about continuing golf lessons.&amp;nbsp; She decided that she likes golf and will continue to play because some day she wants to golf with Daddy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Ah, yes.&amp;nbsp; The Daddy factor came into play her for both them and me.&amp;nbsp; You see, my ulterior motive is that some day all three of them will golf the afternoon away together, leaving me in a quiet house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It might be a dream, but it's my dream and I'm sticking with it.&amp;nbsp; Just like I'm hoping the brunette twin likes golf enough to stick with it until she gets a golf scholarship for college.&amp;nbsp; It worked for her cousin, why can't it work for her?&amp;nbsp; After all, a Mom can dream, can't she?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-8056400976206801912?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/8056400976206801912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=8056400976206801912' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8056400976206801912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8056400976206801912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/fore.html' title='Fore!'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7525757810225407886</id><published>2011-07-11T20:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T08:00:08.852-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='storms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='power outage'/><title type='text'>No Thanks, We Had Power Yesterday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Just last night my husband and I were talking about the next house plans.&amp;nbsp; The only thing on my list (after the patio is done) is a whole house generator.&amp;nbsp; We lose power all the time and it drives me crazy.&amp;nbsp; It might be for just an hour or two, but it's pretty regular.&amp;nbsp; Since I work from home, not having power is a huge problem.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;My husband thought we should put the generator on the back burner and get new front doors instead.&amp;nbsp; The ones we have are wood, old and in bad shape.&amp;nbsp; In the winter we get frost build-up on the bottom of the doors and the doors rattle in the wind. &amp;nbsp;They might be original to the house, and that's not a good thing.&amp;nbsp; I argued for the whole house generator and then we were too tired to talk about it anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This morning we had a storm rumble through about 8:00 a.m.&amp;nbsp; It didn't seem that bad, but we lost power anyway.&amp;nbsp; It turns out it was much worse than I thought.&amp;nbsp; Nearly 850,000 people in the Chicago metro area are without power.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;By the time I realized we weren't getting the power back quickly, it was too late to rent a generator.&amp;nbsp; The girls and I ran into the basement, lifted everything we could off the floor and waited.&amp;nbsp; The rain stopped before our basement flooded, which was a big relief.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls and I toughed out the heat until Jayne came by to take them to the pool.&amp;nbsp; The dog and I survived the afternoon, but it wasn't pretty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I was starting to worry about the food in the fridge/freezer when a friend said we could borrow their generator.&amp;nbsp; She said, "It's little, but it works."&amp;nbsp; She was right.&amp;nbsp; It is little.&amp;nbsp; There are only two outlets, but it does work.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now the fridge/freezer is plugged in.&amp;nbsp; For the moment, I'm catching up on work (really, I am).&amp;nbsp; We might not have power for a couple of days, but I don't care anymore.&amp;nbsp; Cooler air is moving in and we have a generator.&amp;nbsp; It's not perfect, but it will do for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Oh, and the whole house generator just moved to the top of the project list.&amp;nbsp; We lucked out this time, but we recognize we might not get so lucky next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7525757810225407886?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7525757810225407886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7525757810225407886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7525757810225407886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7525757810225407886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/no-thanks-we-had-power-yesterday.html' title='No Thanks, We Had Power Yesterday'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-5413080368241159490</id><published>2011-07-10T08:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-10T12:04:42.297-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='piano lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Time to Get in Tune</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls practice on an old piano we inherited from my Grandmother.&amp;nbsp; Before it found a home in our place, the piano spent some time in the neighbor's living room on loan.&amp;nbsp; Our girls were too young for it and their daughter wanted to take lessons.&amp;nbsp; It all worked out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When we go the piano back, our neighbor said, "You know, we never did get it tuned up.&amp;nbsp; Amanda decided to change instruments almost as soon as she started piano lessons."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls have been practicing for months on a piano so out of tune you can really only use one octave.&amp;nbsp; For their songs to date, that's been enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Recently, the blond twin started playing a song that requires her to move up and down three octaves.&amp;nbsp; What song, you ask?&amp;nbsp; Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.&amp;nbsp; It turns out this simple children's song is actually pretty complicated to play.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now we have to get the piano tuned up.&amp;nbsp; Given that the piano hasn't been tuned up in at least 20 years, I'm guessing it will be a lengthy, expensive process.&amp;nbsp; We have a couple of keys that don't even work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The good news is the first tuning should be the worst -- after that it's all about maintenance and keeping the piano clean.&amp;nbsp; At least that's what I've been told and I choose to believe it, even if it's not true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-5413080368241159490?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/5413080368241159490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=5413080368241159490' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5413080368241159490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5413080368241159490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/time-to-get-in-tune.html' title='Time to Get in Tune'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7592716104074119027</id><published>2011-07-07T07:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T07:40:01.220-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='piano lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>You Can't Quit</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls have been taking piano lessons since the beginning of the year.&amp;nbsp; At first both girls learned at about the same pace.&amp;nbsp; They shared songs and learned the music notes together.&amp;nbsp; Then, the blond twin began to pull away.&amp;nbsp; A few lessons ago, their piano teacher looked at me and said, "She gets it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Since then the blond twin has been speeding past her sister.&amp;nbsp; She plays with joy and bounces to the songs.&amp;nbsp; She reads the music and teaches herself new songs to surprise their teacher.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes she teaches her sister the songs.&amp;nbsp; She just gets it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The brunette twin is moving along at the pace you'd expect a first-time, seven-year-old to learn.&amp;nbsp; She's learning at a good pace.&amp;nbsp; She's learning new notes.&amp;nbsp; She's perfecting songs.&amp;nbsp; She's just not doing it as quickly as her twin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It upsets her to keep a song for a week longer than her twin.&amp;nbsp; She cried one day when she thought she played a song perfectly and her piano teacher corrected something.&amp;nbsp; She takes being at the same level as her sister very seriously.&amp;nbsp; It ruins her day every time she leaves lessons without getting a new song.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;One day she said to me, "I don't want to take piano lessons any more."&amp;nbsp; I said, "Not an option.&amp;nbsp; Just because your sister is moving along more quickly doesn't mean you're going to quit.&amp;nbsp; You're going to keep playing until you get really good at it.&amp;nbsp; Then you can decide whether or not to quit."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Despite the fact that she complains about lessons, she glows when she's with the teacher. She likes to learn new songs and delights in her sister's success. She said she's enjoying the lessons. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now, if she was really, really bad at piano, we might have let her quit.&amp;nbsp; Some people just don't have any musical talent.&amp;nbsp; This is not her problem.&amp;nbsp; She's a good piano player, but it eats at her that it all comes so much easier for her twin.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The real problem is the precedent it sets if we let her quit.&amp;nbsp; There are going to be a lot of things that one of them will do better than the other.&amp;nbsp; This doesn't mean the one who has to work harder gets to quit just because it takes more effort.&amp;nbsp; They both need to learn that being good at something takes a lot of practice and effort.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7592716104074119027?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7592716104074119027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7592716104074119027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7592716104074119027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7592716104074119027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/you-cant-quit.html' title='You Can&apos;t Quit'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-3575497097243791008</id><published>2011-07-05T20:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T20:20:16.649-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='games'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scrabble'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Scrabble Flash Competition in Progress</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls received a Scrabble Flash game for Christmas.&amp;nbsp; We recently opened it and cannot stop playing it now.&amp;nbsp; There are only five tiles, so it's a good level for the girls.&amp;nbsp; It's a lot of fun as the girls can spell a lot of works that are three, four or five letters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Usually we play one parent and one child teams.&amp;nbsp; The blond twin has been on the last two winning teams, so she's sure she's the lucky charm.&amp;nbsp; At the end of tonight's game, she said, "I want to be with Sissy next time so she'll win."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It's a sweet thought, but it presents several problems.&amp;nbsp; What if the two of them don't win the game?&amp;nbsp; The girls will feel badly and we'll feel like we took advantage of them.&amp;nbsp; After all, shouldn't two adults be able to beat two 7-year-olds at Scrabble Flash?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The harder problem is what happens if they do win.&amp;nbsp; Do we really want to put ourselves in a position to be beaten at Scrabble Flash by our children?&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-3575497097243791008?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/3575497097243791008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=3575497097243791008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/3575497097243791008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/3575497097243791008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/scrabble-flash-competition-in-progress.html' title='Scrabble Flash Competition in Progress'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-8794286104186666558</id><published>2011-07-03T10:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T10:30:43.637-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Morton Arboretum'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>That's art?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard at the Morton Arboretum...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette twin:&amp;nbsp; "Mom, what's that?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "It's part of the art exhibit."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette twin:&amp;nbsp; "Really, it doesn't look like art.&amp;nbsp; It's ugly."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "Art isn't just a pretty painting.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes it's just meant to make you think."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette twin:&amp;nbsp; "Okay. I'm thinking it's ugly."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-8794286104186666558?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/8794286104186666558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=8794286104186666558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8794286104186666558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/8794286104186666558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/07/thats-art.html' title='That&apos;s art?'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7064446072106952139</id><published>2011-06-29T21:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T21:05:42.145-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='test scores'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='computers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Chicago Mom Blogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Our Computer Summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This was first posted on the &lt;a href="http://thechicagomoms.com/"&gt;Chicago Moms&lt;/a&gt; blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I was casually chatting with our girls’ first grade teacher about their assessment scores. There seemed to be a discrepancy between the three different assessment tests they take each semester, with one test lower than the others. It wasn’t terrible, but it was different enough that I wondered why she thought it happened. She said, “Oh, they know their stuff. It’s just hard for them to maneuver the mouse to answer within the test time.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my fault. I’m the mom who restricts her kids tv time and computer time so they would spend more time with imaginary play. We’ve been happy with this decision until they started first grade. It turns out that knowing the answers to the questions doesn’t mean anything if you cannot figure out how to work the computer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It’s not that they have no computer experience. It’s just that they aren’t quite as adept as other kids. While other kids are playing Scrabble online, we’re playing the Scrabble board game. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We’re taking steps this summer to reverse this. The girls are spending more time playing on websites like Club Penguin and Webkins. They are learning Spanish via an online program. They are playing math games online.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Their teacher’s point is easily actionable, and we are taking action. I realize we’re in the digital age where your ability to work a mouse is as important as your ability to complete double-digit addition and subtraction. I just didn’t realize it would affect our girls’ classroom placement as early as first grade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7064446072106952139?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7064446072106952139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7064446072106952139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7064446072106952139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7064446072106952139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/06/our-computer-summer.html' title='Our Computer Summer'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7517257540399831251</id><published>2011-06-28T11:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T11:10:00.189-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heimlich'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grandmother'/><title type='text'>Always Party with the Nurses</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When my brother Dave married his wife, there were about 25 little, adorable, Irish girls running around.&amp;nbsp; I couldn't keep their names straight, so they were dubbed "the nieces." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The nieces are now grown up with children of their own.&amp;nbsp; At lot of those children were on display at our nephew's graduation party last Saturday night.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Interestingly, a lot of the nieces grew up to be nurses or otherwise in health care.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Last Saturday, I was sitting at a table with my parents, brother and friends when my Mom started coughing and turning blue.&amp;nbsp; I tried to get her to talk while saying, "Steve, Steve, Steve, Mom's choking."&amp;nbsp; He jumped up and grabbed her around the waist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Within seconds, one of the nieces said, "Move, I'm a nurse."&amp;nbsp; She grabbed Mom, did the Heimlich maneuver and talked to Mom to make sure she was okay.&amp;nbsp; A few seconds later she returned to her table as if nothing ever happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom was okay, but we were all a little shook up.&amp;nbsp; It's not like we're not all a little emotionally edgy anyway.&amp;nbsp; Even my Dad looked a little off-color as he kept saying, "Are you okay?"&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I've always adored the nieces, but never more than when one of them helped my Mom.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7517257540399831251?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7517257540399831251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7517257540399831251' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7517257540399831251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7517257540399831251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/06/always-party-with-nurses.html' title='Always Party with the Nurses'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-1079376321531090911</id><published>2011-06-26T21:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T21:04:45.201-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quilting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby quilt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Two and Done</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Last week I finally finished the blond twin's baby quilt.&amp;nbsp; Yes, I know I'm about six years too late, but it's done and it's wonderful.&amp;nbsp; Even now she looks at each piece and wants to know the story behind the square.&amp;nbsp; Why did I pick that shirt?&amp;nbsp; What did it mean?&amp;nbsp; Where did she wear it?&amp;nbsp; Does Sissy have one like it on her quilt?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The quilt did exactly what I wanted.&amp;nbsp; It is a memory book she'll be able to keep forever and pass it down to her children.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I guess I shouldn't call it her baby quilt.&amp;nbsp; Even though I did start saving shirts when she was a baby, she's an adorable little girl now.&amp;nbsp; Who has a little girl quilt though?&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Already we're saving special shirts for her next quilt.&amp;nbsp; Given how long it took me to finish her baby quilt, I'm guessing the next one will be for her eighth grade graduation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-1079376321531090911?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/1079376321531090911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=1079376321531090911' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1079376321531090911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/1079376321531090911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/06/two-and-done.html' title='Two and Done'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-9000424819083171248</id><published>2011-06-22T13:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T07:56:42.883-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog training'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='husky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oreo'/><title type='text'>Summer Dog Training</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Oh, we are such first time dog owners.&amp;nbsp; We spent all this time training Oreo when all we needed to do is wait for summer's heat.&amp;nbsp; He's a whole different dog now that the temperatures are rising.&amp;nbsp; He hardly pulls on his leash.&amp;nbsp; At the start of a walk he might make some moves like he's going to chase a squirrel, but by the end of a walk he doesn't even look at the birds or squirrels.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Twice now he has just stopped in the middle of a walk.&amp;nbsp; He just dropped down in a shady place to take a break.&amp;nbsp; He stayed there for a few minutes until he was ready to walk again.&amp;nbsp; He was panting so hard no one dared to move him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;He gets home, drinks all his water&amp;nbsp;and plops on the floor in a cool place. He stays there for a long time, panting as if he's on a full-speed run.&amp;nbsp; When he does move, it's slowly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;As my husband pointed out, "He's a Siberian Husky, not a Florida Husky."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-9000424819083171248?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/9000424819083171248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=9000424819083171248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/9000424819083171248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/9000424819083171248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/06/summer-dog-training.html' title='Summer Dog Training'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-92107545598610418</id><published>2011-06-19T16:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T16:49:19.124-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleepover'/><title type='text'>Their First Overnight with a Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls spent the night with a friend last night.&amp;nbsp; It was the first time they spent the night any place other than Gramma's&amp;nbsp;or with their cousins.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We were nervous that they wouldn't really spent the night.&amp;nbsp; Their friend is just far enough away that it isn't a quick trip if they decide not to really spend the night.&amp;nbsp; We dropped off the girls and their stuff after talking to them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt; (again) about spending the night. They were resolute.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We enjoyed our child-free time with a movie and a little shopping.&amp;nbsp; It was funny to walk through Target without them.&amp;nbsp; When we made it home, we started wondering if we'd get a call.&amp;nbsp; The time passed and the phone didn't ring. Finally we went to bed.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;In the morning we marvelled that the phone didn't ring in the middle of the night.&amp;nbsp; We had a quiet morning before the girls arrived home about Noon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;They had a great time.&amp;nbsp; They played games, read magazine stories about Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez, ate ice cream, painted their nails and told ghost stories.&amp;nbsp; All in all it was a fabulous sleepover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now they are planning their first sleepover where a friend comes to our house.&amp;nbsp; I see many sleepless nights with giggly girls coming soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-92107545598610418?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/92107545598610418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=92107545598610418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/92107545598610418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/92107545598610418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/06/their-first-overnight-with-friend.html' title='Their First Overnight with a Friend'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7602217129802082428</id><published>2011-06-17T08:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T08:23:00.194-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nail polish'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Not Ready for Sandals</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls love, love, love to have their toe nails polished.&amp;nbsp; One of our neighbors likes to paint their toe nails different colors and designs.&amp;nbsp; She does a great job of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The girls decided they wanted to try to paint their own toe nails.&amp;nbsp; I agreed if they would stick to one color per toe and put a towel under their feet while they worked.&amp;nbsp; They happily agreed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The end result is clearly a beginner's effort.&amp;nbsp; There is toe nail polish all over their feet.&amp;nbsp; Some did make it on their toe nails -- just as much made it on their toes, feet, hands, etc.&amp;nbsp; It was quite a mess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;They didn't care that they were a mess.&amp;nbsp; They were very proud of their work.&amp;nbsp; We'll clean-up the mess and declare their first effort a success.&amp;nbsp; Next time I might have to provide a little more supervision just to reduce the clean-up stage.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7602217129802082428?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7602217129802082428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7602217129802082428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7602217129802082428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7602217129802082428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/06/not-ready-for-sandals.html' title='Not Ready for Sandals'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-5675799702444266243</id><published>2011-06-15T08:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T08:15:00.765-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='allergies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humidifiers'/><title type='text'>Sleeping in the Sauna</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Last winter we burned out another humidifier.&amp;nbsp; We've been running one every night for years because it really seems to reduce the brunette twin's allergy symptoms -- with it she sleeps soundly,&amp;nbsp;without it she is restless.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Last winter I got tired of buying filters for the cool air humidifiers, so we bought a warm air humidifier.&amp;nbsp; It adds humidity and heat to the girls' bedroom.&amp;nbsp; We turned off the humidifier when we turned off the furnace.&amp;nbsp; The next morning, the brunette twin woke up sounding raspy and sneezing.&amp;nbsp; The day after she sounded a bit more congested.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;My husband said, "Do we need to turn the humidifier back on even though we're not running the furnace?"&amp;nbsp; We decided to try it.&amp;nbsp; The next night she slept soundly and woke up sounding clear -- no congestion, no raspy voice, no sneezing.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now we're running the warm air humidifier every night -- furnace, air conditioner, open windows.&amp;nbsp; We're not sure why, but it works for her, so it works for us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-5675799702444266243?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/5675799702444266243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=5675799702444266243' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5675799702444266243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/5675799702444266243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/06/sleeping-in-sauna.html' title='Sleeping in the Sauna'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-7601226019688571869</id><published>2011-06-12T19:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-12T19:29:03.723-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photographs'/><title type='text'>Family Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;A couple of years ago we took a family photo.&amp;nbsp; I was looking at that photo recently thinking how glad I was we made time to do it.&amp;nbsp; I figured it would be the last family photo that included my Dad.&amp;nbsp; It never occured to me that the first person missing from the photo would be my sister-in-law Marlene.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We spent a lot of time at Marlene's wake staring at family photos.&amp;nbsp; Some of those events seemed like yesterday.&amp;nbsp; Others brought back fond memories.&amp;nbsp; In each case I was glad that someone took the time to click the photo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It made me realize I'm way behind in putting family photos in the girls' photo albums.&amp;nbsp; It's now my summer project.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-7601226019688571869?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/7601226019688571869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=7601226019688571869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7601226019688571869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/7601226019688571869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/06/family-photos.html' title='Family Photos'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-3070539967843243171</id><published>2011-06-10T14:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-10T14:16:00.359-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Summer Sitter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Jayne is back this year as our summer babysitter.&amp;nbsp; She takes the girls out to classes, swimming, biking, etc.&amp;nbsp; Her main job is to get them out of the house a few times&amp;nbsp;a week.&amp;nbsp; The girls like to be out with Jayne, but they don't like that we call her our babysitter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;As the blond twin says, "We're not babies, so we don't need a babysitter.&amp;nbsp; Jayne is our summer sitter."&amp;nbsp; They both object every time we refer to Jayne as their babysitter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I'm not sure if it's a promotion or just a title change, but Jayne is now our summer sitter.&amp;nbsp; It's actually kind of cute that the girls discussed her title and changed it, so we'll go with it&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-3070539967843243171?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/3070539967843243171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=3070539967843243171' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/3070539967843243171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/3070539967843243171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/06/summer-sitter.html' title='Summer Sitter'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-157379746031788630</id><published>2011-06-07T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T22:02:43.843-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mackinac Island'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Back to Reality</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When I talked to my brother the night Marlene died, I told him we could pack up and come home right away.&amp;nbsp; He said, "Nothing will happen before you get back.&amp;nbsp; Just stay on Mackinac with the girls."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It's a weird thing to be on vacation when someone dies.&amp;nbsp; On the one hand, you are mourning the person.&amp;nbsp; On the other hand, you're on vacation.&amp;nbsp; We decided not to tell the girls until we returned home, so not only were we mourning, but we had to be happy because the girls didn't know that Aunt 'Lene died.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We spent one morning biking around Mackinac, an afternoon exploring in Fort Mackinac and time on the hotel's balcony playing with the giant chess set.&amp;nbsp; I'm not sure where they learned it, but the girls actually had a pretty good idea about how to play chess. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We had tea in the parlor, which might have been the highlight of their vacation.&amp;nbsp; They felt like Eloise at the Plaza.&amp;nbsp; The girls chatted endlessly about the fancy hotel room with the fancy beds.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;All the time I kept thinking about what I had to tell them.&amp;nbsp; They probably ate more fudge than I would have normally allowed and got away with a bit more than normal because I really wanted them to have good memories of the trip.&amp;nbsp; Knowing how bad the rest of the week was going to be, I really wanted the trip to be good.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now we are back and reality is setting in.&amp;nbsp; If I could close my eyes and wish my way back to the island, I would.&amp;nbsp; Instead we're bracing for tomorrow afternoon when we're going to tell the girls' that Aunt 'Lene isn't with us anymore.&amp;nbsp; I don't know if there's enough fudge on Mackinac Island to help us get through that conversation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-157379746031788630?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/157379746031788630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=157379746031788630' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/157379746031788630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/157379746031788630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/06/back-to-reality.html' title='Back to Reality'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-207065169240684632</id><published>2011-06-06T07:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T07:35:04.048-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aunt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlene'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funeral'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Rest in Peace Marlene</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I was standing in the lobby of the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island when the call came.&amp;nbsp; One of my brothers asked if I was away from the girls and kept pushing the issue.&amp;nbsp; I thought, "Geez, it's not like I don't know Dad is sick."&amp;nbsp; When I assured him I was alone, he said, "Marlene died this morning."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Marlene was my youngest brother's wife.&amp;nbsp; They would have been married 18 years on July 1.&amp;nbsp; Her death came suddenly and without warning.&amp;nbsp; No matter what scenario was playing through my head when my brother called, Marlene died wasn't a possibility.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Of course with sudden deaths, there will be an autopsy before there can be a wake and funeral.&amp;nbsp; This gives us time to figure out what to tell the girls.&amp;nbsp; Up until now we've explained every person's death with "she was old and sick."&amp;nbsp; This doesn't work for Aunt 'Lene.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Aunt 'Lene took the girls to get their ears pierced when they were three.&amp;nbsp; She made them way too much popcorn whenever we were there.&amp;nbsp; She introduced the girls to pop, especially Pepsi.&amp;nbsp; She was the brunette twin's godmother.&amp;nbsp; She was far too young to be gone now.&amp;nbsp; It is so unexplainable. Yet, in a couple of days we'll be home again and will have to explain. Her wake will be their first.&amp;nbsp; I'm not sure we'll take them to the funeral, but they will go to her wake.&amp;nbsp; All we do now is try to figure out how to explain it all to the girls.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I talked to my brother last night and he said, "This is the worst day of my life."&amp;nbsp; I told him I couldn't imagine his pain.&amp;nbsp; Rest in peace Marlene.&amp;nbsp; Rest in peace.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-207065169240684632?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/207065169240684632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=207065169240684632' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/207065169240684632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/207065169240684632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/06/rest-in-peace-marlene.html' title='Rest in Peace Marlene'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-6398727911947890783</id><published>2011-06-05T09:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-05T09:09:00.089-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oreo'/><title type='text'>History Repeats Itself</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;When my brothers and I were young, we received a dog for Christmas.&amp;nbsp; She was a German Shepard mix that came from the same animal shelter from which we adopted Oreo.&amp;nbsp; She was the nosiest dog ever.&amp;nbsp; We decided nosey was a crazy name for a dog so we called her Snoopy.&amp;nbsp; Everyone thought Snoopy was named after the cartoon character, but people always liked the back story better.&amp;nbsp; One of our favorite Snoopy stories was when Mom opened the fridge door one Christmas morning and ate some cherries off the cherry cheesecake pie.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Recently I came into the kitchen to see the blond twin staring into the fridge with Oreo at her side.&amp;nbsp; I said, "What is the dog doing in the fridge?"&amp;nbsp; The blond twin looked down and said, "Oreo, keep out of the leftovers."&amp;nbsp; Oreo was snacking on leftover stir fry while the blond twin was looking for something.&amp;nbsp; The dog kept snacking until I said, "Shut the fridge door!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;My husband wisely said, "Well, now we&amp;nbsp; have to remember to always cover the leftovers."&amp;nbsp; We could also ask the girls to keep the dog out of the fridge, but covering the leftovers seems easier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-6398727911947890783?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/6398727911947890783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=6398727911947890783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6398727911947890783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/6398727911947890783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/06/history-repeats-itself.html' title='History Repeats Itself'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2516296849632138305.post-2605479990662661979</id><published>2011-06-03T07:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T07:09:00.204-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='public schools'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>We're Starving</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Overheard at the bus stop on the last day of school...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette Twin:&amp;nbsp; "I'm starving."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Mom, we were the only kids in class without a snack today."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "Snack?&amp;nbsp; You had snack time?&amp;nbsp; You were only in school for an hour and a half."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Brunette Twin:&amp;nbsp; "We always have snack.&amp;nbsp; Why didn't you send us with a snack?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Mom:&amp;nbsp; "I didn't think you were going to be in school long enough to have a snack."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Blond Twin:&amp;nbsp; "Well, now you know for next year."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2516296849632138305-2605479990662661979?l=twotimesthefun.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/feeds/2605479990662661979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2516296849632138305&amp;postID=2605479990662661979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2605479990662661979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2516296849632138305/posts/default/2605479990662661979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twotimesthefun.blogspot.com/2011/06/were-starving.html' title='We&apos;re Starving'/><author><name>Shari</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17887313036566334183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_kdzIRX-GS1k/R2R2gvFOp0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/V1bHBjzdWWg/S220/nasturtiums2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
