Twins and Teamwork

Our two oldest are fraternal twins.  They share a birthday, they share a room and Lego, they share clothes, they share common interests, and they share friends.  But they do not look alike.  Nor are their personalities remotely alike.

When I need someone to fetch me something when I'm arm-deep in the middle of a task, I ask James.  He knows where everything is!  And if he doesn't, I can explain exactly which shelf/box/bin it is in, or which colour/shape it is, and he will find it.  He's been like that since before he turned two and would help me by getting a diaper or a fresh sleeper for our newborn Evan.

When I need someone to help take care of one of the younger boys or do make something caring for someone, Morgan is the man to go to.  He takes responsibility and caring very seriously.  When they were tiny toddlers in our first home just beginning to toddle around, Morgan would always wait expectantly for me to hand him two sippy cups or two snack cups - one for him and one for James.  He was never happy unless he knew James had exactly what he needed too.

I love watching and learning the intricacies of each one of my boys and what makes them who they are.  Often they still baffle me, but knowing them the best I can helps me parent them individually.  Just like every other parent out there, I need all the help I can get along the way on this parenting journey.




Along with having twins came a whole set of unique child rearing attributes that I definitely found to be different than raising the three singletons I have.  And it's not only because they were born six weeks premature - that's a whole other experience that comes with it's own set of unique challenges and circumstances.

There have been many significant moments throughout their lives that are simply because they are twins.  I remember when they were about eight weeks old I had them lying side-by-side beside me when I noticed they were clutching each others' hands.  I pulled their hands apart to see what would happen and within a moment their hands were joined again.  Then there was the first day James walked across the floor on his own at 13 months.  Within hours, Morgan was toddling right behind him for his first walk alone too.  They each cut their first tooth on the same day.  I'm going to refrain from mentioning the times that being twins got them into mischief though - that's a whole other post.

Through it all though, I think one of the most significant attributes I've noticed about them being twins is their teamwork.  From the moments early in their lives when one boy would drop a toy and the other would hand it back to him to their quiet moments in their room now when they take a toy apart and figure out how to put it back together.  Teamwork takes them places.  Morgan bolsters James's self-confidence when they are in a new, uncertain situation.  James organizes Morgan.  They split up their cleaning and chores to cover more in a shorter timeframe.  They challenge one another and encourage each other to do better.  They make a great team.

The school they attend emphasizes a specific virtue each month of the school year.  At the end of the month there is an assembly where a few students in each class are recognized for how well they display that virtue in their daily lives.  The virtue for January was Teamwork.  James and Morgan were chosen in their class along with one other boy.  Besides being proud of them, I had to smile to myself.  It's not the first time they have received recognition for this virtue and I highly suspect it won't be the last time. 

Twins make teamwork easy.

From the Sidelines

I watch them out there every week.  Skates laced tight, helmets on snug.  Concentration etched deeply on their brows as they manipulate their feet and bodies while maintaining their balance.  Arms and legs working together to achieve careful unity.  Week by week subtle improvements might be visible in one boy while another seems to still be struggling to balance properly when lifting a foot or turning precisely.  Some weeks one child will almost dazzle when he suddenly masters skating backwards.

Tonight is different.  The regular stations situated at each corner of the ice rink are left empty.  Rather than barriers, drills and practice, the ice is clear for a free skate.  It's beautiful watching them.  Amidst the skaters, small and big, skills vary over a wide degree.  Among our four boys alone, abilities and enjoyment are wide ranging.  Two short months of weekly lessons have brought dramatic changes for each of them.

Slowly their steadiness increases as their confidence grows.  From the sidelines I cannot differentiate which inspires the other - does confidence bring steadiness?   Or do they feel more confident when they achieve a greater level of steadiness?  Either way, the blossoming of success is wonderful to watch.

It was a good decision to enroll them in skating lessons this year.  When they began their abilities were mainly remaining upright and making forward momentum.  James and Morgan have quickly progressed gaining speed, fluidity and skills.  While Evan is progressing at a much slower pace, he's acquiring his own set of skills and is able to do much of what he is shown even if it is in his own awkward way.

But tonight was Nicholas's night to shine!  His determined, solid little body usually makes him appear as a tin soldier on ice skates - legs straight, arms pumping rigidly at his sides.  The moment his skates hit the ice tonight, there was a difference - he glided.  It was the first time I'd watched him move so easily across the cold surface.

At times like this I love sitting on the sidelines.  They learn, grow and accomplish while I have the great privilege of simply watching them.  So much of parenting is teaching and shaping little ones and all the joys and trials that come with it.  But sitting on the sidelines, ahhh, that provides lovely, (almost) uninterrupted moments of watching them experience their life.

A Good Visit - Day 24

Sitting in the hospital bed, her eyes bright, surprise on her face.  She welcomed Morgan with a smile and asked immediately for a hug.  His hesitation was slight.  I could tell he was trying to reconcile the frail woman he has come to expect with this woman before him.  I was trying to reconcile it myself.  In typical Morgan fashion, it didn't last more than a second before he leaned over the edge of the bed and nearly squashed her.  She laughed.  It sounded good.

It's been a couple of weeks since Morgan last saw his Dema.  {Dema is the name Jake, my nephew, chose to call my mom 22 years ago and it's stuck.}  School, life events and her stay in the hospital has limited his opportunities.  After dropping James off at a friends house on my way to the hospital, it just seemed right for Morgan to join me today.  We stopped at Tim's for two coffee's and one hot chocolate before we made the walk through the quiet, Saturday afternoon corridors of the small local hospital.

I sat with her yesterday for awhile and saw how well she was doing considering her reason for being in the hospital.  Today she surprised me by looking so much different, more vital somehow.  It took me awhile to explain the difference to myself.  She moved easily.  She talked freely.  She laughed gently.  She did her leg exercises and I helped the way she's taught me to further her work toward achieving more bend.  She drank her whole coffee.  She talked of being hungry!  Hungry!  She hasn't wanted to eat anything since her surgery over six weeks ago.

Morgan and I stayed for as long as we could before I had to return home to make supper for the ones we left at home.  It was a good visit.  Later, as I was filling Luke in on how much improvement I saw in mom, it finally dawned on me.  She looked more like she did many, many months ago.  Since before this difficult year of health troubles and mobility issues.  And pain.  So much pain.  Yes, today she looked like I expect her to look.

My mom looked young today!

Click here to see the rest of my Write 31 Days series:  Simple Gems

Morgan's Musical Induction - Day 19

Seeing him sit so small behind the full size drum kit, feeling rhythm even with the movement of his body.  Eyes glued to his uncle playing guitar to his left.  Watching, ever intent.  Inhaling deeply as his breathing aligns with his playing.  Absorbing the sound, the rhythm of the music being played. Learning to play as he plays for the first time with some of the music makers in his family.

It is his heritage, the heritage of them all, passed from his great-grandfather through generations to him.  Sitting on porches, in basements, in bars playing with other gifted family member.  Playing with friends who become family through playing.  They speak to each other in a universal language which others enjoy but cannot all speak.  They are bonded by the hours spent with the instruments speaking through the chords, runs and lyrics.  Friendships borne in music, built with instruments, lived in the world.

And it is beginning again, music making is being passed from our generation to our sons.  They sat together in the basement: dad, son and uncle.   Each at their own instrument and played the way that they do together.  But now there is a new element to the playing.  It wasn't only about getting lost in making music.  Instead, they were moments of teaching.  Skilled musicians sharing with a novice musician.  Sharing how to hear, how to feel, how to play using the innate musical ability that is in their very nature.

Watching them, being part of something as it happened in front of me yet not participating, I was able to fully appreciate the magnitude of the moment.  It was beautiful.  Morgan will not forget the first time he played with his dad and his uncle.  The moment when he went from onlooker to participant.

Later he came to me and wrapped his arms around me.  He squeezed me hard and said low, "Did you see?  I played with them."  He glowed.


Click here to see the rest of my Write 31 Days series:  Simple Gems

Running Boys - Simple Gems - Day 6

Early this morning before the sky began to lighten, I sat in my comfy chair sipping my coffee, reading and enjoying the quiet of the still-sleeping house.  Over summer vacation this became my reason to crawl from my cozy bed consistently earlier than I ever have before in my life!  It has become my favourite time of day, those precious moments I steal alone before any of the boys are stirring their sleepy bodies awake.  No one is requesting or needing anything of me yet.  There are no tasks yet begun that require my attention.  My to-do list for the day is completed the night before so my mind doesnt even linger on the I-need-to-remember's.  It is time completely mine.

Although I was out of bed, I was not quite fully awake yet.  To meet the challenge of Write 31 Days I carve out time to write after everyone is asleep.  This makes my mornings a lot slower once again as I stay up late.  I heard some stirrings from James and Morgan's room and wondered why they were awake so much ahead of their alarm.  I listened to their talk back and forth as they discussed the day ahead.  It slowly dawned on me that today was the day of their Cross Country Running Meet.  Even from another room I could feel their excitement.

It was hard to get them to concentrate on their morning routine so we could get out the door on time.  As the big yellow bus slowed to a stop at our laneways' end, my boys clustered around me waiting for their good-bye hug and kiss before being whisked away to another school day.  In usual form, I kissed their cheeks and squeezed them close.  But as James and Morgan turned from me to climb the steps of the bus, I wished them luck and a word of encouragement.  I was concerned I wouldn't be able to find them at the meet before they ran so I could whisper a word in their ear.  

But I had nothing to fear.  My boys found me even as I approached the moving mass of boys and girls wondering where they were among the sea of oversized blue jersey's representing their school team.  They ran to me, away from their friends, and flung themselves at me for a reassuring hug.  Our last hug was barely three hours old but they needed another to help calm the jitters before the race.  Even there in the midst of all their school friends, I was their focus.  And they filled the moment with joy for me - my eight year old boys are still happy to shower love on me, even in public.

And they did fantastic in their race!  James placed 21st and Morgan placed 26th in a 1500 meter race.  I am so proud of them!

Click here to see the rest of my Write 31 Days series:  Simple Gems

My Days of Tomorrow

There was nothing that stuck out significantly to indicate that this night's established 'tucking-in' would be different from any other night.  The floor of Evan and Nicholas's room was finally clear of toys and after lighting the Cars stoplight nightlight, I pushed play on the CD player to hear the introductory notes to the theme song of their bedtime story CD.  I wished both squirming boys 'sweet dreams' mixed with 'I love you's' while giving multiple snuggles.

Turning off the overhead light I slung Dylan into his customary place on my hip and made only a feeble protest at taking him with me down to James and Morgan's room.  It's not that I don't want the munchkin with me, it's the busyness that trails alongside him I could sometimes do without.  To say he is distracting is an understatement.

Entering their room, I immediately knew Morgan was upset.  Only their sleepy faces peered at me from their mounds of handmade quilts, overstuffed pillows and various plush and hard toys.  While James's eyes lit up with pleasure at seeing his baby brother to say 'night-night' to, Morgan's red-rimmed eyes threatened to spill unshed tears.  Dylan pushed away from me wanting to be swung to the floor, forward momentum immediately propelling him in his climb up and over Morgan so he could get a drink from the nighttime water cup sitting on the bed shelf.

I stepped up onto the ladder for the top bunk and brushed a kiss across James's cheek. His skinny arms twined around my neck to hold me close so he could return the kiss and nuzzle his cheek against mine.

"'Night mom," he said.  "It was a good day today.  What took you so long?"

"I had to help your brothers put some things away,"  I answered.  "Dylan and Nicholas dumped out the Lego and dinosaurs."

Pushing at my legs, the small whirlwind informed me it was his turn to say good-night to James.  I stepped sideways off the ladder as Dylan's compact body slipped up the ladder like he had been climbing since birth.  Lowering myself to sit on the edge of the mattress, I rubbed my hand along Morgan's slim back as I leaned over to kiss his cheek.  His beautiful brown eyes filled with emotion blinked tear-soaked lashes.  He glanced at me then quickly away causing a few rogue tears to escape and trickle down the cheek I had just kissed.  He turned his face into the pillow in an attempt to hide the emotion.  Morgan's sensitive soul often causes his heart to hurt.

"Morgan, my boy, what's the matter?"  I asked him.

Inhaling deeply, he bit his lower lip before answering.  "I was just thinking tonight about when we grow up.  What are you going to do when we grow up?  I mean...", he paused, his big eyes turning to me with absolute anguish in them, "...someday we're going to grow up and then you'll be home all by yourself all day.  And dad is at work all day.  And you..."  another pause as he buried his face in the pillow again.  The next words were muffled by both the pillow and the emotion he couldn't contain. "You'll be alone all day and you'll have to do all the work yourself.  We won't be here to help you."  Looking at me again his long, dark lashes had matted together, the tears still brimming.   "And I just don't know what you'll do when we're all grown up!"

I ran my hand down his soft boy cheek.  Our bodies shifted as Dylan clambered between us, his elbow caused my glasses to shift sideways and his knees dug into Morgan's chest and arm.  I adjusted my glasses back to their rightful position before scooting Dylan off of Morgan.  Dylan began burrowing into the blankets, his feet bumping the wall and his head colliding with Morgan's shoulder.  I gently brushed those heartfelt tears from the cheek of this sensitive child and cupped my hand under his chin to turn him to face me more fully.  My mind fast-forwarding to days where floors are free of Lego, laundry piles have dwindled, to-do lists are checked off and the walls ring only with echos of laughter and screeching.

"Morgan," I said as I lowered my forehead to lean against his, "those days are a long time in the future.  We don't need to worry about them just yet."  But even as I said the words, I didn't fully believe them myself.

A long heart-to-heart kept our heads bent close until we finally brought our quiet chat to a close by lifting our burdens for the future in prayer.  He gave me a small smile, his eyes now drooping heavily with sleep.  I tucked the blankets more snugly around his shoulders before straightening myself to do the same around James's sleeping form.  From the doorway I looked back over my shoulder to make sure both sets of eyes were closed.  Turning out the overhead light, I left them sleeping peacefully to discover what trouble Dylan might have found when he left the room ahead of me.

I can only trust that there was soothing balm for Morgan's hurting heart in the words and prayers we spoke.  I can only pray that he always remembers those precious moments when we shared our worries of the future together, even if they were in the midst of chatter, busyness and bumps.  Because sometimes it doesn't matter what else is going on, there is a heart that needs tending to right now.

May those lonely days of the future never be fulfilled.  May the days of the present instead be as full of laughter and noise and dirty clothes and laid aside toys that the gusto of five boys bring with them.  And may all the fullness of life today spill forever over into my days of tomorrow.

Possibilities

It was a loooong time coming for James and Morgan.  We decided the multipurpose room downstairs would be renovated into a bedroom for the two of them to share.  However, the logistics behind that undertaking were extensive - at least for our limited space and the time we could designate to remodeling the room.

When Dylan was about four months old, the time had come for him to move out of our room.  The memories are a bit hazy, but I'm pretty sure I was still up with him when Luke's alarm was going off at 5:15 am.  I don't think I had even stretched out in bed that night; I was surprised Luke got any sleep at all between Dylan's fussing and my movements.  The next night I declared Dylan was sleeping in his own room!  It was an evening of bed-shifting: Dylan into the crib in Nicholas and Evan's room; Nicholas and Evan down the hall into James and Morgan's big boy bunk beds; James and Morgan into their new bunk beds set up temporarily in the living-room downstairs.

Although we functioned with the transitional setup, James and Morgan needed their own space.  They needed a room with empty shelves and floorspace, not just a makeshift area shared with furniture shoved over and instruments piled in the corners.  Their long temporary stay was in a room already full that quickly overflowed. Keepsakes and toys were without empty shelves to be put on. Clothes were without enough drawers or a closet to be put in.  And Lego was everywhere!

Luke planned and created.  I piled, shifted and finally sorted and cleared out.  And then one day, the room was finished.  The carpet was laid.  The walls were painted.  The waiting was over.

This is the beautiful end result.

A new space full of possibilities.  A room where they can carve their own story.  A room that inspires the possibilities of what decluttering and renewing a piled up area can deliver.

Creativity, Recycling and Stuff

There is a randomness to creativity that shapes something wonderful into being from where there was once only stuff.  One never knows what may trigger a creative impulse to spring forth.  Part of the beauty of creativity is that it isn't only about the finished piece.  Instead, it is mostly about the act of doing, of following the ebb and flow of ideas, trial and error, and ultimately to finish with a sense of completion.

Creativity abounds in our house!  Imagine the multitude of things that can come into being when there are so many busy little minds whirling with ideas.  ALL the time.  It truly is a beautiful thing.  However, there are times that the creative juices just overtake the house, and not in a good way.  But that is all fixed when we have clean-up time and things go back where they started and are ready for the next round.

We have an overstuffed craft corner where the boys are free to paint, cut up paper, play with play dough, glue, colour, stamp, whatever takes their fancy.  I add things as I find them knowing that someday it will be just the perfect bit for someone's something.  I love it.  It is where a lot of this creativity is brought to realization.  But I hate it too; it's always a messy mess with the bits spilling on the floor where they are left.  Believe me, they are not limited to only the stuff in the craft corner.  As long as they ask, they can make use of most things that inspire them.

Morgan has discovered the art of recycling.  Not putting cans and boxes into the recycling bin to be recycled, but instead using the cans and boxes from the recycling bin to re-create into some thing.  I have said many times "Morgan, sometimes recycling just needs to be recycling!"  However, I was quite impressed with his use of recycling for this project. I'm not sure I can say he has "re-purposed" the box, but he certainly re-created it.  He was so proud of his pinata!



Despite all the mess and bits and stuff, I wouldn't change a thing!  Creativity is such a part of who my boys are and I embrace and encourage it in each one of them.  After all, what would our house be without all the stuff?