Are these really my children? I did a pretty nice job, if I do say so myself. With a little help from Daddy Bean. And this artistic genius.

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Maggie and the Milk Goatee

The Fair, The Photos and a Couple of Fledgling Fly Girls.

On Friday, Amanda S. invited the girls and I to the Bath City Festival with her and her twins A&J. I, in turn, invited Angie and her twins A&A along for the ride. And what a spectacle. Three women and three sets of twins. Get out of the way, or we’ll mow you over. I realize that we should have known that we’d draw attention to ourselves, and after almost a year of this, I am pretty much immune to the gawks and comments of others (which, for the most part are pleasant and kind, but occasionally I’ve received a shake of the head and a “You poor thing!” to which I’d like to reply, “Why, because I have two beautiful, well-behaved little girls and am enjoying myself out on the town with them? Or because I’m not you, you selfish, evil, mean-spirited troll?” but have as yet, never had the courage to do…), but I was more than a little surprised at all of the fanfare we received. I think we would have been at the Festival for half of the three hours we were there, had we not been a gaggle of M.O.M.s and their twins.

Anyway, we had a blast. M&A were able to see, up close and personal, some baby chicks, geese, a goat, a sheep, a cow and some bunnies. They were allowed to pet a little bunny and A came thisclose to poking out the eye of an unsuspecting little turtle. They loved every second of it, even though they didn’t get to participate in the moonwalk with A&A&J&A. Though I charged my camera the night before, I forgot to bring it on Friday (doh!) so I don’t have any photos to share…We’ll be back next year Mt. Clemens!

On Saturday, Daddy Bean had to work (again) and so we decided to take a trek over to Canton to have lunch with Stacy and Lori and then head over to the new Ikea store. Finally! I’ve been dying for Stacy to work her wonder on the girls and you can check out her breathtaking work here. While you’re there, look around, because her work is amazing.* Lori took some gorgeous photos too – I wish I could take pictures like these gals, I just don’t have the eye for it. Luckily for me, I know people who do.

Lunch was grand, but Ikea was another story. I’m not much of a catalog shopper. I’d rather go to the store, hold the product, try it on and check for any faults before I plunk down my money. Plus, I hate the idea of shipping and handling. Now, after suffering a near panic attack, I’m rethinking my position. Ikea has a lot of cool products and great prices, but there is no way that I am returning to that place where I was split seconds away from ditching the girls in the middle of that monstrosity and running madly towards the exit in an effort to escape my claustrophobia. It was insanity.

On Sunday, we relaxed. Rather, we buckled down on some new dance moves and filmed a sure-fire winner for America’s Funniest Home Videos. Reinforcing my ignorance and incapacity to handle a camera properly, I filmed the girls practicing their moves to their new favorite song, SexyBack, sideways. So, you’ll have to check back later, after Aunt Dada has corrected my mistake. It’s worth the wait though, to see “stir the pot” and others…

*Mention "mommabean" to get 5% off any order placed with Stacy.

THE MOMMY BONE

My best friend from college gave me some disturbing news last night. I still don’t know if I can comprehend what I was told.

M was always going to be a mother. She wanted a brood of children around her. As the second of four and the member of an extremely large close-nit family in western Michigan, family is very important to her. Just like she knew she was going to become a teacher, she knew that she would have several children. So, it came as no shock to me that she became pregnant on her honeymoon.

When we would have our monthly phone sessions, after the baby was born, I would feel myself wondering who this woman was. Our main topic of conversation was the latest feat of the newborn and how uncomfortable her old clothes were. I still considered myself a newlywed and years away from that foreign place called Mommydom. I didn’t know what she was talking about. I couldn’t find the woman I used to know. Gone were cocktails and parties and here were bottles and Winnie the Pooh. I laughed at the anecdotes and congratulated the achievements, but I, like many other childless women I’m sure, almost felt a sort of pity for M, who was so consumed with this little person that she failed to ask me about my trip to Vegas or see the joy in my new purchase. I winced at the thought of the spit up, the diapers, the “mom” clothes and the extra laundry. I resented the idea of giving up my time, money, my husband and my freedom. I was not cut out to be a mom. I didn’t know how to talk to children and had an intense dislike for sticky hands and booger filled noses. There wasn’t a motherly bone in my body. Some women just have it. I didn’t.

Then, overnight (literally), something changed inside of me. I began to notice the softness of a baby and longed to smell their delicately perfumed skin. My arms ached to hold one and I began to see that the traits that I admired in J were the ingredients that would make the perfect father. I hoped for a baby, cried for a baby. I desperately wanted to be pregnant.

One day in June 2004, I received a call from M. She was pregnant again. She and her husband had decided to try again in May and it took less time than she had imagined. She quickly topped that news with another story about her little boy. I smiled this time, because I could imagine how important these stories were for her and I couldn’t wait to be able to give her a story of my own. I was able to do so in February 2005. I was pregnant! I was thrilled, excited, relieved and terrified. Terrified, because that motherly bone I previously spoke of, hadn’t yet made its appearance. I waited for it for seven long months and though occasionally I would get a fleeting sense of being mommy-like, for the most part, I continued to be disgusted at the thought of poopy diapers and dried spit up on my favorite shirt. I still didn’t know how to talk to a child and I didn’t get the hang of playing the right way. But I was about to become a MOM and there was no going back. (And believe me, I thought about it…mainly during the TLC and Discovery shows about childbirth and labor).

Now, almost a year later, I admit that I have lost a bit of my time, money, my husband and my freedom. I’m not quite as fashionable as I once was (if I ever was) and I’d rather spend my evenings on the couch under a blanket than in a bar with a drink. I can roll on the floor with the best of them and I can change the poopiest of poopy diapers in three minutes flat. I still have a dislike for sticky fingers and spitting up on my cutest top is not the way to win points with me. So, I guess I did have that bone after all. It's just a little under developed!

Fast forward to yesterday evening. M was discussing G&G’s latest adventure. Except this time, I had a story or two of my own. About teething and walking and new words like “Dog!” And now, I hear the fatigue in her voice and I sense a satisfied weariness about her. She’s not a perfect mom, but she’s a happy mom and a wonderful mom. I’ve learned so much from her while watching her raise her beautiful boys. She’s been a great teacher. She’s now pondering when she’ll get pregnant with her third child and whether or not she’ll stop at four or five. This, coming from a woman who wanted six. Which leads us to her shocking revelation.

She bought a mini-van.

A mini-van.

Okay, people, I know I just spent the past few paragraphs explaining how I’ve turned over a new leaf and that I’m such a happy mommy, blah blah blah. But listen. I. Am. Not. Driving. A. Minivan.

I refuse.

I won’t do it.

I definitely don’t have THAT bone.

I actually laughed at her when she told me and asked her if she was serious. While she was explaining all of the fascinating features, I giggled to myself and shook my head. No ah ah. I won’t be caught dead in one. When she reminded me that if I was planning on having another baby within the next few years, I’d probably have no choice, I indignantly stated that I would find a way.

There is a way, right?

Anyone?

Well, I’ve got a couple years to worry about this. Check back then.

Things that happened this weekend at the Bean Household

1. Momma Bean received JN's business cards and they're so PERFECT and she highly recommends them and is desperately waiting for JN to meet the Beans and decide on them as her next subject.

2. A's first tooth is emerging and her second has just made it's appearance. So far, M remains gummily addorable.

3. The Beans spotted G&G at the Tigers game on TV Saturday evening.

4. Momma Bean finally got her laptop. With no A/C adapter. Strike Two, Dell.

5. The Beans took a hike on a nature trail and met several ducks and a psychotic squirrel. Which greatly amused them and their Momma, but irritated Daddy. Wha??? Squirrels like Goldfish Crackers!

6. J had the whole weekend off and realized that being Momma Bean is a lot more difficult than he thought.

7. MB took some photos, at Miss E's request, including the one above, and realized that she is in dire need of professional intervention (See #1). But don't they just look sweet?

8. MB met another M.O.M. to be and missed the kicks and wiggles immensely.

8a. As such, MB made a decision to not sell any more Bean equipment or clothing, with the firm support of Daddy Bean.*

Things that did not happen this weekend at the Bean household.

1. Household chores and cleaning.



*Don't get too excited my peeps, as this endeavor will not be undertaken for at least another one to two years!

Clue that you are a hairbrained flustered mother of almost-one-year-old twins existing on five hours of sleep, half a cup off coffee and some yogurt and were 15 minutes late to work today:

You don't realize until almost noon that the cute fitted white polo that you've been sporting today is INSIDE OUT.

This is the only time HRP sat still all day today.  

We're feeling a little nutty lately...

On Sunday, Aaron and Andrew pulled petunias out of Momma Bean's flower bed to give to us and today we've been bestowed with two beautiful bouquets of flowers from Peanut and Cashew. We're a couple of lucky beans! You see, we're being courted by these cutie pies and we're over the moon. They're tall dark and handsome just like Daddy and they sure do know how to woo a bean. To show our gratitude, we'd like to share our chocolates with you boys. Momma Bean won't let us have them (Grampa will..shhh!), but they sure are fun to play with. Thanks boys, you're the cat's meow!

Yoga Enthusiast or Little Miss Cleo?

A has taken to performing downward facing dog on occasion. At first, we couldn't figure out what she was doing but then I remembered. PB, I dabbled in a little yoga here and there. I took classes and practiced at home. One day, I even coaxed J into participating in a power yoga session. He collapsed halfway through the DVD, while I held my position with a triumphant grin on my face. I even took a prenatal yoga class - which I highly recommend! So, soon enough, it dawned on me that my little bean was getting her yoga on! And she just won't stop! Whenever I round the corner, from the kitchen to the living room, there she is, stretching her hammies and sticking her little butt in the air.

I giggled at the spectacle until last Monday, when I arrived at my parents house. My mom, arms akimbo, promptly asked me if I had noticed Audie's new acrobatics. I said yes, but didn't bother to explain the yoga thing. She then asked me if I knew what the Thai superstition was about that. Now, throughout the years, I've been warned of touching an adult's head, getting my hair done on Monday, or wearing shoes in the house. So I could only imagine what Audrey's new exercise routine would mean.

According to Gramma M., when a baby does this move, it means that her mommy is going to give her a baby in the near future.

Cue the crickets.

Later that night, I told Jim what my mom had to say. After coughing up a bit of Diet Coke and scooting away from me on the couch, his reply was, "Make her stop."

A day later, Maggie began doing it too.

Those crazy Thais.

I guess I'm IT.

*But I think Becki cheated too!

Five items in my freezer
1. Eggless waffles (for A)
2. Chicken Parmesan ravioli
3. Chicken breasts
4. Tropical Sorbet
5. Lean Pockets

Five items in the closet
1. Shoes
2. My Calvin Klein comforter that my sister bought me for THIRTY FIVE DOLLARS! (Which is a big thing, as it's normally $400!!!)
3. Purses
4. Hangers
5. Box of maternity clothes

Five items in the car
1. Jim's iPod
2. Bottled water empties
3. Peg (the stroller)
4. The printout of the laptop that should be arriving in a week! Yes!
5. Black flip flops from Ann Taylor Loft

Five items in my purse
1. My cellie
2. Receipt for the alterations
3. Jim's speeding ticket
4. Coupons to (1) VS; (2) Express; (3) B&BW; and (4) The Limited
5. My keys

People I tag: Jurgen Nation, Lori, BEE and all of my LURKERS!!!

This is the real HRP. For you newbies, Her Royal Pie-ness (Maggie) was always pegged the shy one. And yes, she did have a bout with separation anxiety and stranger fear at around six months. To date, she continues to give any stranger who gets too close a wary look. But in our world, this is HRP. Audrey is the demure, dainty bean. She's a flirt, yes. And she loves to be the center of attention. But like a Southern belle, she works her charm just so, and before you know it, you're entangled in her web immediately. Mags, on the other hand (if you're lucky enough to be someone she knows and trusts), approaches life with a loud bang. She is full of energy, impatient and extremely independent. She is an easy laugh and will keep you running. She's got a wild look in her blue eyes most of the time and will do anything to make you crack a smile. She doesn't need an audience though, she can entertain herself (and her sister) for hours on end and not give you a second's glance. That's another thing. She's not very affectionate. She doesn't have time for it! Don't bother trying to get a kiss from her - something that A gives freely and gently as if she's kissing a feather - M will shoot you down and leave you feeling embarrassed and rejected. No hugs either. She'll cuddle on her terms only. Try to tie her down and she'll just wriggle out or throw her body back in an effort to escape. But my favorite times are when her shell cracks just a little bit every night and she crawls into my lap and just sits. She fits so perfectly and for the little time that she'll allow me, I smell her head and hold her and just enjoy the brief stillness. And then she's gone again.

So, this is the last month of babyhood, I've been told. I'm not going to go into a long rambling of the year we've just had, or reminisce about the day you were born, I'll save that for next month, and for a day when I've got plenty of tissues nearby. But I've been facing the realization that you aren't babies anymore. And I'm in a state of denial. When discussing my needs with the Dell Computer Guy the other day, I advised him that my laptop would need to be able to support all of the 7,621 photos of my "newborn" babies. When advising the lingerie consultant that I needed one of those support undies for the wedding, my reasoning was that "I just had twins". Both of these individuals offered me words of congratulations and then asked how old you were. When I said that you were just about eleven months old, I distinctly noticed the crinkle in one of the salesperson's nose, as she immediately spotted my fudging of the truth to justify my less than stellar post-babIES body. (emphasis added). On the other hand, when I spot a newborn, I am immediately filled with a sense of longing for that unmistakable scent of a new baby. My arms ache to hold that helpless pile of softness and I get all misty-eyed and silly. Audrey, you'll let me cuddle, but now that you're crawling, you'd rather be following Big Sister around the kitchen. And Maggie, you're just about ready to go from standing to walking to running out the door and into the world. YOUR world. I thought I'd have until your teens, but you already act as if you don't have time for me now! So, I'm going to try to hang on to every minute of these last few days of babyhood. Too soon, you'll be toddlers, then tweens, then unrecognizable young women, but for now, you're still my babies.

Oh, Momma Bean, you're too funny!! Tell me more!

You did NOT say that!

OMG...

I can't take you anywhere!

Oh well...I still love you...

A helpful consumer tip from a M.O.M.

Diaper pails* are a waste of money. Mine is currently sitting in the corner of the nursery, where it's been since we moved in December. I can't for the life of me remember if we emptied it prior to moving...it was a hectic time. I was back to work and the girls were just learning that NIGHTTIME IS FOR SLEEPING.

The last time J attempted to empty it, the P.O.S. vomitted festering diapers everywhere, as we were unskilled in the ways of twisting and cutting. (Don't ask.) I thought about tossing it last night but the fear of what I'd find inside kept me from the chore. Maybe this weekend.

Anyway, Diaper thingy, you do NOT get this M.O.M.'s seal of approval.

While I'm at it.** Those childproof latches. They don't work. M&A were about to have a Dawn Liquid Soap cocktail yesterday while I was making dinner, before I discovered why they were being so pleasant and quiet. On my toes, as always, I whipped my ponytail holder out of my hair and secured it around the knobs. It being 439 degrees outside, I was pretty impressed with my generous gesture toward the Beans. Had I not cut my locks a few weeks ago, I might have thought twice about giving up the elastic.

*I'm not naming names, but if you know what TV show I was named after, you'll know what I'm talking about.

**I'm thinking this could grow into a regular thing....Consumer Reports by Momma2Beans? Stay tuned...

Ch-Check it out.

My amazingly talented cousin Suzzette has struck again. I wanted something special for E's bridal shower to add to the gift that I had just purchased...I had been thinking about it and couldn't figure out something that would really mean something to her. Later that night, as I was putting the girls to bed, I looked at a wall in their nursery and I knew. I had to hire Suz to make me a shadowbox. She had made three for me as gifts and they are hanging in the girls' room, one for the two of them, which I will keep for myself, and one for each of them individually, announcing their birth. I'll have to grudgingly fork these over to them when they (gasp!) move out. They are beautiful and I look at them everyday. I know how much they meant to me and it's exactly what I was looking for, for E. Hopefully, hers is as special to her as ours are to me. Check out Suzzette's work and if you want to be as cool as me, you'll want to get in touch with her. Just drop me a line. Thanks Suz!

Take Me Out To the Ballgame...

On July 23rd, the girls enjoyed their first Tigers game. Gramma and Grandpa M., Jack and the four of us watched the WS headed Detroit Tigers take on the Oakland A's and we had a ball. It was a gorgeous day and the girls were fabulous and were initiated in one of our favorite summer pasttimes. On the menu was a bunch of stuff: pretzels, cotton candy, snow cones, nachos. The girls loved it all! They watched the game a bit, but mostly spent their time people-watching. They got to see Paws up close and personal and made friends with the people around us. We had great seats, so we were able to pass them around a lot and make them as comfortable as possible. We stuck around until the ninth inning...the girls were tired and just starting to get fussy for a nap. I can't wait to continue this tradition! Go Tigers!