Because you can never get enough...

As promised, the boys dressed up in their Halloween costumes for play group.
Halloween quilt made by Carolyn!

Obviously, we were not the only ones with this idea... though I (very impartially, of course) think that the boys were the cutest. I mean they had REAL FEET for their costumes!


Then, on Halloween, they got dressed up again and came to my office...
in their appropriately orange stroller.

They were quite a hit and we tried to art direct a shot that would show just exactly how cute they looked....


But it didn't really quite work out.

Max was confounded by his hood.

Thomas just looked perplexed - maybe it was the ears?

So we went to meet Eugene to go to a Halloween Festival on 69th Street. There were Haunted Houses and whole buildings opened up to trick or treaters... and a guy dressed as Batman hanging off the front of a Brownstone. We thought perhaps Thomas needed a better view.

Haha, Eugene has a monkey on his back! Hee!


All in all, it was a really fun Halloween. Aside from random strangers taking pictures of the boys - PLEASE ASK! I KNOW THEY ARE CUTE, BUT PLEASE ASK!!! IT'S POLITE!!!!

Ahem. It was the first time in years (aside from last year... when I was dressed up as a pregnant lady) that I haven't gone all out on my own costume, but I figure that there will be plenty of time for that when the boys are older.

And I can embarrass them. Bwahahahahaha.

Here Too

Some mornings, I don't know how the run happens. In bed, I think "better for me to sleep, need to get rid of this cold..." and then next thing I know I'm under the baseball hat, the sound of running shoes on pavement. That's addiction for you, I guess.

In California, I had the most beautiful run of my life. A little outside of the town of Olema, a trail that ran through the woods, mostly shaded by trees, all the way to the ocean. It was the hardest run I've ever had, too. Eight miles, inclines that lasted just long enough to make me think I couldn't go on, followed by a downhill slope just in the nick of time. It made me happy.

As did the rest of the trip. Little Wren in his orange-striped outfit, how could that kid not make you happy? I landed at SFO on Wednesday morning and drove to Kristin's so that we could have a meal together before I drove out to the coast. We had brunch, the perfect first meal of any vacation. Some fancy California benedict with avocado of course, and the best banana pancake I have ever had (sorry Dad!).

Kristin and me in England, ages ago

I don't even know where to start with the rest of it. I didn't take a single photo once I got to Tomales. I was just there, and as good as it's been the other years, it was even better this year. McNally was an amazing teacher, and my workshop included all the Seattle members of my writing group, as well as Karen N, from New Orleans. There was sunshine and good food, bread pudding, fantastic readings from the Faculty, including beautiful new work by Pam, read at the bookstore in Pt Reyes, and of course, oysters.

I'll just say this - I feel like a new person. Just in time for the start of year 38.

Boo!

I wish Euge would stop trying to steal Max's costume.

So we had the building Halloween party and it was a big success! I really tried hard to think of what things would be fun for the kids and I think it worked out. It was a lot of work, but I think it was the sort of party that the building kids will remember fondly.

We had a guessing game where you could win a Frankenstein full of Halloween stickers...


We had a pumpkin pinata - which was a liiiiiiittle more resilient than we'd planned on, but at least all of the kids got a couple of shots at it before Eugene started sabotaging it between hitters.


Carolyn came and dressed up as a clown - without face makeup since everyone knows that clowns with face makeup are too scary for little kids. Even kids who grow up in New York.

There was also a 'Creepy Cave' with light up skulls and fake tombstones and black lights but, as you can imagine, it didn't photograph so well. So use your imagination. M'kay?

Max wore his frog costume. Ribbit.


And Thomas wore his monkey costume. Or rather most of his monkey costume... he was good at ridding himself of the feet.


I thought that they were the best part.



Of course, the boys also wore their costumes to playgroup today and I will be bringing them to work on Friday and then to a neighborhood Halloween party. I have to endeavor to take even cuter photos because I don't think we managed to capture exactly how adorable the boys are all dressed up.

And then we'll bring the costumes back for Thanksgiving so that you can judge in person. Hee!

Thomas likes the view from up there

Well, it's definitely fall here in New York. We could use some of those thick sweaters and handknit scarves... actually the boys could use some handknit hats - hinthint.... preferably with ears....

We spent a long weekend in Vermont. The leaves are all just past peak and enough have fallen to make for fun kicking games for the little boys who visited us there.

Eugene's friend John (of the horns, from the Medieval Fair post), his wife Amy and their three (THREE!) boys came up for the weekend to celebrate Euge's birthday. They brought a ridiculous amount of energy, arcane Yu-gi-oh knowledge, a delicious birthday cake and pasta salad.

By 9:30 Saturday night, all of the adults had been completley whupped by the kids - including our little darlings.

Amy and Will check out the boys

Sunday morning we got up and had waffles. Actually, we didn't because I couldn't find the baking powder... so the boys had Frosted Flakes, cinnamon rolls and the adults had a yorkshire pudding. With syrup.

The waffles would have been hice though, right? I even bought fresh strawberries to have with them!

Suffice to say, after all that sugar there was energy to burn! So we went for a walk in the woods and took family photos.

In this photo, I think my back was about to collapse
Smile through the pain!

We walked FOREVER.

No, seriously - it was a super long walk. It was beautiful, but I thought it would never end... and my darling baby in the sling was weighing heavy on my spine! Mama has no core strength!

Any hoo, we sent them on their way Sunday afternoon and still had that evening and all of Monday to enjoy up there! We had the grill out and enjoyed the crisp evening air... and then we watched Be Kind, Rewind, which I wanted to love but just didn't.

Monday, I managed to drive to New Hampshire to buy supplies for our co-op's Hallween Party... which, somehow, I am in charge of. It was a nice field trip with the boys and I got to see some beautiful scenery, all the fading golds and rusty reds of the rolling countryside.

It was really a lovely fall weekend.

How I Know I'm Ready

There are outfits. Last year, when I went to the Tomales Bay workshops, there was more of a story at this point, but there weren't as many outfits. The story was trying something, it was the first story, literally. I always used to say I wasn't a strong enough writer for a short story, that working on a novel seemed so much more forgiving, not like a short story where it's all there, without the excuse of "more to come" or "later" in the book. You can see it in a glance, the short story. Still, there was a way in which that story was impermeable, never got to its own heart, still hasn't, and I got called on it, and reminded of how much writing hurts. I liked some of the words in that story, I liked the voice of it, and by the time I took it Tomales for workshop for the workshop, that had become a kind of armor that hid what was missing at the heart of that story. That story still rattles back an echo at me whenever I tap on it, just to check. I'm not sure I'll ever find it's heart.

This year, there is no story. There are story clumps, fragments, they are gooey and stick to me. The page is set, margins where they are supposed to be, and McNally has given us twelve pages, period, so that's that too. This helps, I create a sub-file titled "Birds That Eat Meat - brutal cuts" and this lets me carve away the things I find myself reworking, hung up on to no avail. Twelve pages, for me, is about making this story as simple as possible, quit messing around with the stuff that made last year's story so empty and just get it on the page, get some pieces in place so that the real work can begin. The real work of letting it be read, and felt and commented on. That's the hard part, for this one.

Which is why it's good that there are outfits. Outfits for a bright fall. Mirrored sunglasses, old jeans, scarves and handknit socks and things you can wear in a cold classroom, or in the back of a room of long readings. A thick wool sweater with the neck cut off then trimmed with bright orange thread, so that people are reminded that you are a human with collarbones, with bird-like parts, capable of breaking, light bones, hollow enough to fly.

The Cretins Got Some Culture

Max - much cuter than the Van Gogh baby

So Dad and Lucia were here for 5 whole days and we managed to get the boys to the Cloisters, The Met, and the MoMA. The little heathens are practically qualified to be art critics now!

Strangely, they mostly seemed interested in the ceilings of the various museums. Post-post-post modern art perhaps? Found art? Maybe they are conceptualizing a future photo essay.

We also did a lot of walking, tickling, cuddling, smooshing, laughing and eating.

Lucia shows Thomas where his soft spots are

We walked up to the Cloisters - don't worry, the stroller was not far away!

Max naps while I do the heavy lifting

We walked through Central Park to get to the Met

You have to look at the new stroller from just the right angle to get the full twin effect

The boys successfully napped through most of the museum visit

Yay for couches!

Except when Daddy was providing rides

Whee! The Impressionists are fuuuuunnnnnn!

Or, if Grandpa was providing rides!

Thomas likes cuddles, long walks on the beach, and Grandpa!

We also all got to go to playgroup - which is one of my favorite things. There is nothing like watching a gaggle of toddlers dance to 'The Wheels on the Bus'. Dad alternated between documenting the whole hot mess with his video camera and carrying Max or Thomas to check out what all the other kids were up to. I didn't take any pictures of that myself, because I was enjoying just being able to go with the boys.

That was probably the nicest part of the visit - just being able to hang out with my family. Having to go to work is just reality right now, but it can be hard to miss things like the playgroup, so having four days off to indulge in enjoying those sorts of things was really nice.

Also, I want to give props to Dad and Lucia for babysitting so that we could have an anniversary dinner/date night... our first in the city since the boys were born! Woohoo!

Just a sidenote update on the boys... Both are sporting at least FOUR teeth now and both have started semi-crawling backwards... so by the time we get out to Seattle, I expect they will be fully crawling forwards.

Watch out!

Blogger Hates Me

But it's okay, really. Just last night Kate and I went to Sambar (you know what that looks like) and were talking about blog writing, and my dependence on photos. I started wondering about doing a blog post without a photo, of course, and then tonight, Blogger rejected all the photos I tried to upload.

So. Hey.

Sometimes when I'm at a loss for a photo, I'll go back to this time last year. Things were delicious this time last year. All orangey and coffeeish. Things are still pretty here, the street I drive down every day in my office park is a long stretch of flamboyant color, and my apartment is toasty and blanketish. Things aren't as delicious though. I've been eating at home too much for that, my own ridiculous creations, accidents involving cuts of meat I don't understand, or negligence in the form of frozen bags. For lunch there's a frozen box, and now that B has an office job, the lattes aren't the same.

It's indicative of something, of course. I'm a little hungry these days, but not the good kind of hungry, where everything looks like a feast. It's that kind of hungry where nothing appeals, and of course that's how you end up with the frozen box meal. Food as necessary.

Other things are feeding me though. Books. Work. Plus, travel transforms, and next week I fly back to California for the Tomales Bay workshops. I know what I want when I get there. A latte from the little stand there, one of those oat bar things, some oysters from Tony's, a burger and milkshakes.

Some things are just always good.

Max in the bath

Just in case you were bored.

He's cute, right?

What goes on here

A little clue as to why it was time to separate the boys...

The last week has been hectic.

I feel like I am always saying that these days. And yet it always seems to be true.

It was hectic in the best possible way, with Dad and Lucia visiting. I have some great photos and video, but just haven't been able to find the time or energy to download them, much less post them. There's a lot to be said about the adventures we had during their visit. Which will have it's own post.

While they were here, we moved the boys to their own room, which also deserves it's own post.

But first I have to remove the aerobed that I have been sleeping on and take photos of it. Actually, first I have to get used to the idea of sleeping in a separate room from them... then remove the aerobed... then take pictures....

But I digress.

The new room and separate cribs has made for sleep disorientation - Thomas misses Max... Max seems to be doing just fine. That may have something to do with Thomas's proclivity for kicking Max in his sleep... See photo above.

Max getting back at Thomas.

Sleep disorientation makes for sleep deprivation... makes for poor blog writing. Makes for feelings of hectic-ness. Work being busy, apartment being messy, blah blah blah... economy failing, presidential debates and whatnot.

I have a million excuses, did I mention the hectic-ness?

Any hoo, the one non-hectic light at the end of this week is that I ordered the boys' halloween costumes.

The. Cutest. Costumes. E.V.E.R.

I spent more $$ than a mama in this recession should. But - I swear - I will keep these costumes forever.

Plus next year I might not be able to get them to dress how I want them to dress.

Behold Max's Frog costume:
And Thomas's Monkey costume:

I predict that they will be criminally cute.

How It Is These Days

A couple months ago, I read Haruki Murakami's little book, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. There was something going on with me then, an itchiness, restlessness. I attributed a bit of it to missing my daily walks to work (the commute to the new job is a drive), some of it to... what shall we call it? Not so much lost love, though sort-of... loss of faith in love? Something in that neighborhood. A kind of loneliness I'm not sure I've experienced before. One that had to do with a missing faith somehow.

But that's for another time. The point was, there were some things going on, and I knew I needed something. B and I were at Elliott Bay Books, and there it was, this little book, so I got it. It didn't take long to read, and as I read it, I kept thinking "This is such an odd little book..." I think of Murakami as a kind of fantastical mysterious writer, having read only A Wild Sheep Chase until now, and this book is so simple. Just a little piece about writing, and running.

Still, it influence me. I kept getting this image of carving, of chipping away. It was an image about the passage of time, about effort applied over time. Effort applied to your own being, changing word by word and stride by stride, the person you are. I wanted that.

I've always suspected that I would like running, if I could get over the initial pain of it. In high school I went through a lonely phase of running with a big clunky walkman and god knows what shoes, but I was always afraid that someone I knew would see me running, and I hated that idea. I ran for a while when I lived with Elvis, trying to follow a training regime that prescribed a few minutes of running, alternated with a few minutes of walking. It didn't suit me, and what little running there was converted back to walking.

Part of the problem has always been finding time. This is what you tell yourself when you are not yet ready to find time. After I read the Murakami it seemed obvious that the thing to do was wake up in the morning, and run. So I started doing that, 7 weeks ago. And now I have enough runners in my life that it isn't lonely quite the way it used to be. Tami and I talk about it, and Leslie and I, and of course there's B. But even more than that, there's some way in which I just keep myself company better now than I was ever able to in the past.

And as I suspected, and hoped, the running has been like chipping away at something. I feel better. Whatever was hurting me was like something on me, something weighing me down, and it's going now. What I'm looking for now is some little path to the writing, some clearing that might lead somewhere, that might lead to miraculously finding time for the words the way I found time to run.

This is just to say...

I miss you lady! What a fun day that was at Freeman's. XOXO HM

35? Not so bad. Humid, but not so bad

98% Humidity at a medieval fair? I'm just glad I wasn't the one wearing armor.
Or diapers. Poor Thomas!

It was a pretty fabulous birthday weekend. Despite raining on and off, I had the nicest time with my friends and all my boys.

Friday I got a home-made cheesecake (with fresh strawberries and a macadamia-chocolate crust!) and a gift card for the GAP from my lovely co-workers... so now I can get those cute baby jumpers I wanted!

That night I went out with girlfriends for some wine and cheese puffs. It was fun to just sit and chat. We were at an outdoor bistro, under a wide awning and it was drizzling lightly. It was totally lovely and quasi-parisienne.

I went home and watched the debates. which were like an extra gift.

And that's all I will say about that.

Except that Tina Fey doing Sarah Palin on Saturday night live is also quite a gift.

Saturday, the Manhattan Twins Club's picnic was canceled due to rain, which bummed me out. But, it gave us a chance to mostly finish the boys nursery - which I will share with everyone when it is more totally done.

Their new stroller also got put together and, while it is very sharp looking, it is kind of disappointing because people don't get to see both babies at once. In their old stroller they could turn their flirt on and it was like being hit by high beams and low beams at once!

This photo is to demonstrate what the new stroller looks like overall....
Thank you John Owen for modeling for us

Max is having a party up front

While Thomas is keeping things intimate....

with all the ladies in the back...

I predict that the old stroller will continue to see some use. Ahem, Eugene and Claudia like all the attention that twins get...

We ordered in Indian food and just chilled out Saturday night, knowing that Sunday was the big day at the Medieval Fair!

And, verily, it was quite a day.

We had to wait out some rain in the morning, but by 12:30 it was clear enough to walk up. We had 6 kids, 2 infants and 7 adults. Amazingly, no one got (really) lost.

Amy and the kids watch the jousting forsooth!

There was jousting, sword fighting, birds of prey displays, a grillion vendors, medieval pirates, medieval princesses, medieval wenches, medieval fairies, medieval goths, medieval astronauts, medieval pocahontas, medieval mermaids. Really, the list is endless.

John and William and their special medieval horns

Really you could be anything and call it medieval if you had a corset or a sword or a cup attached to your belt.

An exhausted but jubilant crowd heads for home.

We hung out for quite a while and then wandered back to the apartment where we gave the boys a bath (is there any better present than adorable nekked babies?) and put them to bed.

Still the best birthday present ever...

Then we collapsed into a pile on the couch and fell asleep while watching Eureka on the DVR.

Really, it was a great day.

And I got my bag!

What Now

I'm looking forward to a porter shake, maybe a BBQ pork sandwich? Tomorrow morning Jenn and I head down to McMinnville Oregon for one last outdoor concert before we go back to being cave-dwellers here in the Northwest. I love the Edgefield, and Jenn and I always have fun. Did I tell you we went to Skate King together recently? We did! Same carpets, same mushroom-shaped, uh... what are they? Benches? We went to Red Robin first and had drinks with umbrellas, a chi-chi for me. Helped my skating a LOT, believe me. I know you do.

It' supposed to be 74 down in McMinnville tomorrow, 84 the next day. Perfect milkshake weather. I'm not sure I have enough faith in weather reports to actually pack for that, though. I was thinking wellies and a toasty sweater under a windbreaker. I'll take a chance and pack a t-shirt too, sunglasses for sure. Polaroid? Digital camera at least, it's been so underused lately.

I blame the driving for the lack of photos. Not road trip driving, where thoughts roll out ahead of me like a ball of yarn that has gotten away of me. Commuter driving, the kind where you get out at the end and can't remember anything at all about the drive. I've been listening to books though. Persuasion, Tim Egan's The Worst Hard Time, now the last Harry Potter book. It helps me get out of the apartment in the morning, but it's not conducive to the kind of wool-gathering that leads to blog posts or to the kind of looking that makes you take out the camera. Without the books on CD, commuting is pretty soul-deadening. Though if JK Rowling makes Hagrid take out his "table-cloth size" handkerchief one more time, I might... anyway, Lolita is next. That'll be good for sure, if a little disturbing.

Can you tell I'm fretting about the lack of blog posts? I am.

What I'm fretting about more, though... is the Birthday Present Problem. Gold hoop earrings!? I hope that was a hint for your husband!

xoxox

H

Hahaha

Eugene at the Medieval Fair.

Birthday Wishlist

Best. Birthday presents. Ever.

Here it is again, the time of year when Mom and Dad want to know what I want... and again I don't know how to answer because.... surprise surprise... I feel like I have everything I want!

There are a few things that I have my eye on though, and I am sure that they are pretty telling items.

First, I need a desk. I think about Mom's desk from the breakfast nook, and I can totally understand it now. I want a slant-front secretary that will fit into the space between bookshelves in our foyer. A desk that is big enough for me to sort bills and small enough that I don't let them pile up.

And with a lid that I can close so that no one can see if I have let them pile up.

Look, here's this nice desk from Tar-jay! Only $189.99 and free shipping!


Perhaps, too expensive to expect for a birthday gift, so what, less pricey, things do I want?

Well, mostly I want cute stuff for the boys, because I love dressing them up... so I would like any of these adorable things from BabyGap, or anything similar... because anything with ears is cute on a baby...



Grrr... baby bears! And it comes in two colors!
Can you imagine how cute on their round little heads?


Euge might think this a bit girly... but I think it would be ridiculously adorable. They are growing quick and are wearing 6-9 month sized clothes! We need wardrobe!

Ahem.

I'd also like more mixed CDs - because we wear out the last one you made me driving back and forth to Vermont... I especially like that raspy-voiced song that says 'we belong together... we belong togther...'

It makes me all happy and weepy at the same time. Who is that?

For my last items, I will be ridiculous and splurge-y

Big, but thin, gold hoop earrings:

2" in diameter! GORGEOUS! I just have to remember to take them off before the boys see them and want to grab them to pull me in for kisses...

Or this handbag:


Which is actually quite practical because it is the same as the handbag that I have now and I can it my breast milk pumping supplies in it for work! Hahaha... how our considerations change.

In reality, I am hoping for some extra sleep - courtesy of Eugene, a nice brunch with perhaps some wine or bloody marie's and some friends and a trip to the medieval festival at Fort Tryon Park...

Does it get better than that? Not in my book!

Unless you were here, of course. Then it would be infinitely better.

Sometimes You Can't Help But Be a Little Random

I lose my way as a writer a lot. More often than not, in fact, I am lost. I try to be okay with this, but really, I'm not. I am a writer of missed deadlines, self-doubt and wasted words. Lately, I have been a writer of blank pages. Sometimes the writing time is spent just shuffling files, changing margins, reorganizing folders.

So, okay. I make note of this. I think about longevity, and distance, and time and how there are muscles in writing that get lost from lack of use. In the absence of writing, I read, as though I were a runner with an injury who could somehow benefit from watching someone else run.

Always, eventually, touch wood, something saves me. It was two things today. Barb sent me an email, about a post I did a while back, saying that she had saved it, was thinking about it. She was encouraging me, and when I read the email, that post seemed so long ago that I could barely relate to what she was saying. Still, something kindled in me.

Then tonight I went with mom to see Richard Russo and he was exactly what I hoped for him to be, clever and funny, reading a big sprawling essay that in the end was about the best subjects of all - love, laughter and writing.

"You have a right to write badly," he said "But you aren't a bad writer until the day you don't write." Okay, I'm paraphrasing, but get the idea. Again, encouragement.

All of that persuaded me to come here, the starting place for writing, the rough draft place, the place of meandering and babbling and false starts and dead ends. A blog, at least a personal blog like this one, is kind of a place of literary forgiveness, if you ask me, or at least it should be.

I wish I could remember what I said to Jessica the night we said goodbye to her. It was a fun night, all summer cocktails and pretty dresses, feathers in my hair and hats on the boys. Jess smiled and drank and laughed like it was a birthday party, but it was an occasion much more heartbreaking than that. She was off to NYC, where she is now, making her way on her own.

When it was time to say goodnight, I put my arms around her and whispered something in her ear, and when I pulled away for one last look at her pretty face, her eyes, and mine, were all filled with tears. I'm so sad to say goodbye to her, after all those summer nights and Maldives shows and Sunday trips to the farmer's market and bloody marys and a zillion text messages. We'll always have texting, like Bogey and Bergman always have Paris, and I'm grateful for that. My life will be a little more grown up with her gone, and that's not necessarily the greatest thing.

Still, in the few days she's been gone, she's made even the distance between us fun for me. I've sent her to the Tasting Room for coffee and Momofuku and when she went to the Strand, I gave her our old address and she said she'd look for it, and I felt so happy for her, remembering how exciting it was to be in your twenties in New York. She's smart and pretty and so much fun. She's gonna do great. And hopefully the rest of us will all get to live vicariously through her.

Good Times

We weren't in Vermont this weekend, we stayed in the city to try and get the boys' room painted. A project fraught with difficulty.

Yes, I said fraught.

My advice? Don't marry a man with a creative mind and decorating ideas of his own. It can only lead to 3 hour debates on what the appropriate shade of blue is for a room for baby boys.

And what color did we end up with? Green tea. Not any shade of blue, but quite lovely.

The room is still not done - there were also some issues with spackle not drying in the humidity - so the apartment is all upside down... but that's okay because it's nine o'clock on Sunday and all my boys are sleeping!

Any hoo, I thought I would post the video because I thought it was funny! Don't worry - no beer was consumed - at least not by the baby...

It reminded me of an afternoon spent at Dakota's brother's house... of Mom and Dad and their generic Beer.... of rail riding with Leigh and Larry and getting lit on half of a bud light... good times!

I especially love Max's shiver at the end.

Hopefully, Child Protective Services doesn't get a hold of this.

Things I Haven't Told You

I got a housekeeper. Did I tell you that? I don't think so. My personal assistant found her. Together, the two of them changed my life. Really. Jess somehow got me out from underneath a guilt-ridden pile of stuff, and Kelly has whipped this place into shape to the point where it's almost like I live here. So, that's one thing.

Here's another thing we haven't talked about. We're having a little return of summer here, weather-wise. And I know this doesn't make sense, but I realized today that it's kinda bumming me out. The weather comes and I'm stuck indoors, or somehow unable to take advantage of the sun, and it's not like mid-summer, where you think, hey, no problem, I can take advantage of the NEXT sunny day. This time it's painful, like missing the going away party for someone you love, and then not having a phone or email or even letters to get back in touch with them. Something you love is gone, and you're just stuck with that.

And that's why the Kelly thing is so big. Cause here's what we do for the end of summer, for missing love and missing light - there's the couch, and there are hot beverages, and there's knitting and all of that requires a clean apartment, right? There are books too. I never did read that last Harry Potter book, so maybe there's that, and if not, then there's some Nobel Prize winner that I should probably read like J.M. Coetzee, or the new Alice Munro story in the New Yorker, or whatever else anyone tells me I should read to distract myself. Until we're back in summer in one way or another, in some new flowering that, now, when all we know is that every day of summer is probably the last, doesn't seem like a place we'll ever get to.

A few weeks ago Regan sent me one of those Getting To Know Your Friends emails, the kind that asks things like:

What is your favorite pastime?

What was the last thing you ate?

What are you listening to right now?

What was your most memorable recent birthday?

Anyway, one of the questions that stumped me was "What's a day on the calendar that you are really looking forward to?"

And what I realize I haven't told you, in addition to the trivia above, is that the day on the calendar I'm looking forward to is the day you land in Seattle with those boys for Thanksgiving.

Miss those little devils.

Miss you.

xoxo

H

P.S. Miley Cyrus is the worst singer ever, for reals. Did you see Fashion Rocks? Beyonce with JT? Oh, yes. Miley? Hell no.

Six Months of Luv

Now that we are at the six month mark with the boys, changes are afoot - even if the boys aren’t yet.

Haha. Get it? Afoot?

Sigh. Lack of real sleep = tired sense of humor.

So what's happening at six months, you ask? Or you don't, but I will tell you anyways.

Well, there’s lots of blond hair happening. You can’t see it in photos much, because it is quite fine, but when I lather their hair up I am able to make some handsome little faux hawks.

There are also teeth happening! Or rather a tooth. In Max’s mouth. Despite being a bit more diminutive than his brother, he is showing his precociousness by sprouting some chiclets. We’ll see what happens to the breast feeding plan when my little hoovers turn into little sharks.

Our other activities include jumping around like maniacs in the Johnnie Jump-Ups (see above). Flirting wildly with every woman - and many of the men - in sight. Making lots of babbling noises. Stealing each other’s binkies all night. Stealing each other’s toys all day. Grabbing their own toes and sucking on them. grabbing each others fingers to suck on. Oh, and grabbing my cheeks in order to suck on my nose is also very popular.

The grabbing of anything is always entertaining when you are trying to change a diaper. Speaking of which,there continues to be a trend towards pooping.

Lots and lots of pooping.

It must have something to do with the sweet potatoes and carrots that have become a part of their new extended menu.

All in all, they are fantastic little men and every day they manage to wind themselves a bit more tightly around my heart.

We had our first outing as a couple without them this weekend - Eugene's Mom was babysitting and I believe you may have called and interrupted a very important stage in the Bedtime Routine.

Since I spent three days emphasizing the importance of the Bedtime Routine and how not following the Bedtime Routine would lead to Certain Doom, I am afraid that you may have gotten a bit of an abrupt greeting.

Of course, Carolyn did a fabulous job with the boys and Eugene and I were able to enjoy ourselves, knowing that they were in loving - if somewhat terrified - hands. I'll admit to a certain amount of jealousy when I saw other babies at the wedding... but not when they all started getting cranky around seven o'clock with nowhere to go!

That's when I was pleased that my own little niblets were safely tucked into their crib... and I ordered another glass of wine.

Partaay!

It was a beautiful wedding with laughter and tears and sunshine and rain. There were sunflowers and barbeque and a fabulous Lily Pulitzer wedding dress. And if I hadn't had our camera tucked into the diaper bag for Claudia to religiously record the boys' daily activities, I surely would have taken five million photographs.

As great as it was though, when we got home - just in time for the midnight feeding of the piglets - I was happiest just seeing their sweet little faces, smelling their sweet little necks and kissing their chubby chubby cheeks.

I can't believe it's already six months.

This Is Not About Saying Something

Wyatt's new school supply set, which he used to draw, you guessed it, a keyboard.

It's just been a while, you know? We had ten posts in August. Thirteen each in June and July. I didn't think the blogging drought had been going on that long, but I see that it's been a year since the months of 20+ blog posts. So I just thought I'd show up, pick a photo, and see what happened.

I've been thinking about last year anyway. I always do that when the season turns, as it is now, or when some big annual event like Bumbershoot comes whizzing by my head again. Bobby and I went to Bumbershoot together again, and sat in almost the exact same spot, in front of the Broad Street stage, but this year we improved on the whole experience by eating an elephant ear. He looked a lot cuter this year too, since he's gotten over his love of scrawny mustaches and slightly but not really ironic "vintage" (ie from the 90s) t-shirts. What if we have an even better time next year? Mercy.

This time last year was also about letting the twin news sink in. We didn't know they were boys, that they were Thomas, or Max, or that Allison would make it look so easy. I had two job offers, neither of them for the job I'm doing currently, and I was only just starting to write the stories that make up the little group I'm still chipping away at now.

I'm just saying. It's fall. I'm thinking about stuff, but not in any way that seems to add up to anything. And that's fine, right? It's school season, and that means empty notebooks, new sweaters, and new math, soon enough. And if some of the cute boys are the same ones from last year, that's okay too.