the name game

since we still don't get to use either of the girls' names we had picked out when the twins were still little bean pods, we have been playing the name game again. we find naming little boys to be arduous.

here's the way it works around my house: i come up with a list of about 50 names that i think would work -- usually with about 2-3 that i actually love. i give the list to my darling hubby who, without hesitation or much thought, begins to cross off every single name from the list.

yay.

needless to say, i love this process.

so, today as i was searching an internet database for boy names, i began a list to present to b this evening as we are sitting down to dinner. i don't think it will take him very long at all to notice that this list is different.

at the risk of offending some of you (although i doubt it), here is my list of names that i would absolutely never under no circumstances consider naming my little boy, although someone must have, since they were on a very prominent baby naming site:

Banjo - not even sure i like it as an instrument, let alone a name
Cactus
Calico
Cannon - the camera or the weapon?
Chilli - delicious, but not for a child's name
Clever - i'm all about names with meaning, but, really?
Cocoa - for a BOY?
Columbo - why not? his brother magnum p.i. thought it was a great name!
Curry - again, the food thing, yummy though
Darth - vadar?
Dong - um...
Durable
Fell
Flan - a tasty mexican dessert...
Gattaca - as in the movie with ethan hawke & jude law?
Gizmo
Hades - seriously, people, who does this to her child?
Heinz - admittedly, the best ketchup, but...
Humvee - who loves a car this much?
Hyman - hymen? nice
Ice - ice, baby...
Jedi - some sci-fi lovers out there, i guess...
Kevork - ian, as in dr. jack the dr. of death?
Lavender - really? for a little boy?
Lucifer - why, oh why would someone do that?
Oma - german for grandma?
Oscosh - b'gosh
Peanut
Philander - look up "philanderer" in the dictionary...
Phuc - um...
Pooh
Pooky
Rad - very 80s, dude
Rong - i agree, it is rong, very very rong
Satchel
Scoop
Shrek - he was a green monster, for goodness sake!
Starbuck - has the world really come to this? how about caramel macchiato?
Suave - rrrrrico.......suuuuaaaveeee
Torn
Uzi - automatic weapons, fantastic
Yogi - bear
Zero - you've got to give your kid a little something more than this to live up to, people

so...do you have a favorite?

snips & snails & puppy dog tails

that's what little boys are made of!

stupid questions

"i see here that you are scheduled to have an ultrasound here tomorrow morning."

"yes."

"well, the ultrasound technician isn't able to be here tomorrow. is it okay with you if we reschedule?"

um...no.

no it's not okay with me. if i have my choice i'll keep it so that i don't have to rearrange babysitting and the hubby doesn't have to change which morning he is taking off of work. not to mention the fact that i'm ready to know if this baby is a boy or girl. so, no, it's not okay with me.

on the other hand, doesn't it seem like it might be a waste of my time to come hang out in the same room with the ultrasound machine with nobody there to run it and tell me what there is to see?

logically, i don't have a real choice in this matter.

i dislike stupid questions.

phase 1

the countdown has begun at our house already.

t minus 6 months...

perhaps this all seems a bit preemptive, but there's an awful lot of adjusting to be done around here, and we want to give ourselves enough time to start all over again should something not go according to plan (or should the little dudes decide to be difficult).

our little angels difficult? never! you must be thinking.

ah, but let me remind you that these boys both had acid reflux, one had colic, and rather than learning how to self-soothe, they would scream themselves into a frenzy. in fact, they were 5 months old before they were sleeping through the night.

so, i have reason to fear that they are not going to like the role they must play in this transition.

the biggest change for them will be giving up their crib for #3 and moving into toddler beds. this has been waking me up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat as i think about the fact that my sweet boys love to play in their crib for sometimes an hour (or more) after they go "down" no matter what time we put them in there, how tired they are, or what measures are taken to get them calm and sleepy. how is it going to work when they have freedom to get out of bed & do whatever they want? will they ever sleep?

well, yesterday we took the plunge & moved on to phase 1 of this big experiment: taking the crib rail off their crib. that way, they can get used to the freedom, but still be in "their" bed for a while & still totally share with each other. eventually, they will move to beds of their own.

in theory.

i felt victorious already as the boys played on, in, and around their "new" bed, hopping up and down with ease & giggling like mad. this would be no problem.

then, around 12.30, we started in on our naptime routine. things were going according to plan. until i turned to walk out the door. at which moment both boys began to scream so loudly i was sure the neighbors were going to call the police.

it only took 15-20 minutes for the screaming to stop & for the party to begin. and by 1.15 they had even turned on the radio. what i would have given for a secret spy cam!

at 2.00 the radio was off again & i could hear some of the goings-on. as i listened, i was sure they had decided that they could do everything they would never do while i am in the room. i heard them desperately shaking their piggy banks, trying to get out enough money to head to the store for some milk, i'm sure. it was then i decided that something had to be done before they swallowed a dime.

doing my best to rouse the spirit of supernanny, i walked into their room, didn't make eye contact, took out all the pictures, banks, and anything else that didn't resemble a plush toy, and walked back out.

this time the crying only lasted a moment.

by 2.20, all was silent, so i decided to peek in and see what had happened. that's when i saw this:
yes, that is in fact thing 1 asleep like a cat on the window seat. i knew i couldn't leave him there, one foot dangling off the side, but when i tried to open the door a little further, i found this:
thing 2 must have been waiting for my return & passed out right at the door -- completely blocking my entrance. thankfully we started this whole process now, because if we had waited a month or more there's no way i could have squeezed my belly through the door. as it was, it was a feat of acrobatics & sucking in (too bad there's no way to suck in your backside).

naptime was short yesterday, but not a total failure. bedtime wasn't terrible either. daddy is very good at keeping them happy as he leaves the room. #1 didn't cry at all and #2 just for a moment. it did take an exceptionally long time before they fell asleep and it looks like a bomb went off in their room.

but they fell asleep. curled up next to each other on the floor.

maybe we only need 1 toddler bed.

not part of MY master plan, but...

the boys had some mixed emotions once they figured out what their shirts said...
b & i had always said 2 kids. our plan, though, was have 1, adopt 1. god decided his plan was better & gave us our 2 right away.

not part of our master plan.

but the little guys are amazing & we figured, hey, we got a bogo kind of deal. there are our 2 kids.

hot dog. we're done.

once again, it seems that the man upstairs finds my planning to be a bit funny. he has overruled my decision. and so, here we are, waiting for #3. and we are really excited.

but we're definitely done after this one.

i think i hear a distant chuckling coming from somewhere in the clouds.

maybe i need to stop planning so much.

proverbs 16:9 "in his heart a man plans his steps, but the LORD determines his course."

is it over already?

Make a Smilebox scrap pages

mommy moments

just about every little girl starts dreaming of mommy moments when she gets her first baby doll. she holds that doll, dresses it, wraps it up in blankets, perhaps even feeds it or changes its diaper. it goes everywhere with her. and she loves it.

around middle school, she gets a more realistic idea of what mommy-dom is like if she starts babysitting. she might realize that, unlike that first baby doll, a real child does not lie still for a diaper change. or allow its caretaker to squeeze its head between her knees as she struggles to get that cute outfit on. real babies are wriggly, messy, and often loud little bundles.

despite some interesting babysitting moments, most girls do not stop dreaming about mommy moments. slobbery baby kisses. cozy baby cuddles. contagious baby giggles.

and it is true. those mommy moments are wonderful.

the kind of mommy moments that no little girl dreams about seem to be the most frequent in my world.

a sweet snuggle with a little guy as he nuzzles his head into my shoulder, opens his mouth and chomps down hard enough to leave a bruise.

the bulb syringe, working hard to pull all that delicious mucous out of a tiny nose.

a little one crying as i cradle his head to my chest hoping he will vomit down my shirt rather than anywhere that might be visible and disgusting for the other patrons of starbucks.

7.30 bedtime

between 7 and 7.30p.m. our little guys get so sleepy, fussy, and downright cranky that it becomes clear that it is time to go to bed. they rub their little eyes, tip over easily, and cry when we step away from them for just a second.

so, we pick up our toys, read a book, have a bottle, grab our giraffes and head for the crib. they look like they could fall asleep any second.

then, we close the door to their room and (sometimes for nearly an hour) hear strange squeals and thumps. if we go in, it turns in to tears and wailing. for that reason, i've been really curious about what they do after "bedtime."

the other day, i put my secret spy cam in their room to record the goings on...



apparently, what happens in that crib is on a need-to-know basis. and i don't need to know.

identical?

how is it possible that 2 little people with the same dna, raised by the same people at the same time can be so very different ALREADY?

i had imagined the typical search for identity that happens when kids are in school. i had dreamed up sibling rivalries and arguments in which one child screamed, "i'm not (insert name here), so stop treating me like i am, okay!"

goodness knows there was plenty of all that in my household.

and i don't even have a twin. let alone an "identical" twin.

identical...ha!

these boys are as different as night and day.

even down to the way they crawl.

wes took his time in learning, studying, perfecting his technique before demonstrating it publically.


nolan, on the other hand, had places to go, people to see and couldn't be bothered by what some might consider improper form or excessive noisemaking.

doesn't it bother them?

people are always asking all kinds of questions about the twins. it's like a whole conversation piece right there. there's no peaceful stroll through the park or the mall for me. no quick trip to target -- just in and out. someone always has something witty or clever to say or a conversation to start (for a full commentary on this please see previous post).

lately a big one (since the boys are getting older & much much more mobile) has been the topic of sleeping arrangements.

do they still sleep in one crib?

hmmm. our townhome is under 1,000 square feet. we had to do a little squeezing to get one crib & changing table to work in their room. i think if we add a 2nd one, the crawl space would have to be converted into a nursery for the boys.

in other words: yes, they still share a crib.

but...doesn't it bother them? i mean, don't they hit each other and things? is almost always the next question.

well, yes. they do poke & prod & hit & wrestle. but...let's think about this...what do you think they were doing inside one uterus for 9 months? i know for a fact that there were wrestling matches even then.

and i know this may be hard to believe, but their crib is...actually...BIGGER...than my uterus was.

by a few inches.

still incredulous, the other person usually persists in the questioning. don't they wake each other up?

sometimes.

does your husband ever wake you up with his snoring? or worse yet, a powerful fart that wafts up the tunnel of covers straight into your unsuspecting nostrils?

perhaps b is unusual. but he wakes me up sometimes. and then i roll over & go back to sleep.

amazing.

babies can do the same thing.

and, honestly, would side-by-side cribs really do much to help one sleep through the other one's screaming in the middle of the night? doubt it.


so all i'd be eliminating is the chance to sneak
into their room
& see this
precious picture.





so. you tell me. does it bother them to stil sleep in the same crib?

Nolan's new addiction

who needs a wii when you have one of these?



a monitor? you ask. granted, a monitor can provide hours of fun listening to your child cry and can even stimulate your mind as you calculate how many minutes have elapsed since the last time you checked on him and how long you can permit the tantrum to go on, but how could a monitor possibly top a gaming system which, when used properly, actually simulates real physical activity?

well, when the brilliant mind of a 7-month-old is engaged, a monitor can become a gaming system of its own. it's tireless fun. just ask nolan.



he is seen here engaging in the fun.

here's how to play. make sure your monitor has the ability to light up when noise is detected. sit, stand, or lie down somewhere in the room where the monitor is in full view. next, scream, grunt, gurgle, or make any other manner of noise which appeals to you at the moment. the object of the game is to get as many of the little red lights to light up as possible as the receiver (located in another area of the house, of course -- the game is too easy if it is in the same room) picks up your noises. the great thing is, there's no real "winner" or "loser" because if you make it work with a scream, move on to the next noise and see how many lights you can get with that one!

wes doesn't play. but as you can see here, he is exited by the possibilities.



he's sure that if they can just get the word out, this will be bigger than guitar hero.

how can i be upset? a story of bedtime rebellion

over the past couple of days, i have noticed that it is taking the boys a bit longer to put themselves to sleep in the evenings. our normal routine of dinner, about 1/2 hour of playtime in the crib, 10 minutes of crying, and out for the night, has lengthened into an hour of playtime and 20 minutes of crying.

and then 30 minutes of crying.

and then there is tonight.

dinner was around 5.30. a change of diapers, a change of clothes, and into the crib by 6.15.

playtime was abbreviated & the crying started after only about 15 minutes.

and went on

and on.

i checked to make sure no one was on top of the other one a few times & things seemed to be fine.

and still, the crying continued.

at 8.00, i decided that something HAD to be done, so into their room i went. both boys were wailing uncontrollably, but nothing seemed to be physically wrong with them.

as soon as they saw me, everything changed.

the chorus of wails became a giggle fest. both of them. just staring at me and laughing harder than i think they have laughed all day. i think it just would have continued had i not decided that -- since they were clearly in no physical or emotional pain -- i could leave again (and blog about the situation).

what in the world is going on?

is an hour and a half of screaming all just some elaborate game that i just lost? i think they forgot to hand me the rule book for this one. i need to know how to play, because it certainly seems like a lot of fun.

if you win, that is.

simple pleasures

It always amazes me how much pleasure my little guys get from the simple things in life. Things that make them smile, squeal with delight, or wiggle uncontrollably. If only all of us could find joy so easily.

Some things that entertain them right now:

mirrors
the sound of their own voices
squeaky noises
the cat
peek-a-boo
each other's laughter

It's so sweet.

But yesterday afternoon they took it to a whole new level.

Naptime was just about finished and I could hear little sounds of delight coming to me live from the monitor which is unnecessary in our dinky house. I decided to investigate the source of their fun. I crept up the stairs and into their room. There were no giant squeals, just small happy sounds.

What could possibly have them so entertained?

I popped my head over the crib rail and it didn't take me long to discover it.

I don't know who was ultimately responsible (though my money's on Wes), but I do know that they were both deriving much pleasure from it.

"It" was a pile of regurgitated beef and peas from lunch. Both boys were running their hands through it, enjoying the new texture they had discovered.

Ah -- if only we could all take such joy in the simple things of life!

Teasers

Whether we are talking about the weather here in Denver lately or my boys' sleep patterns, it seems like it's all about teasers. And no matter which way I look at it, one fact still remains.

I don't like to be teased.

It seems like every time we have a beautiful spring-like day full of sunshine and warm breezes it is followed up by some of the nastiest, wettest wintery slop I have ever seen. "What a wonderful surprise of a day!" I've heard some folks exclaim when thinking back to the sandals they were wearing just days before. Maybe I'm more of a half-empty kind of person than I thought I was, but it doesn't seem nice at all to me.

It's just downright mean.

I get to thinking about clothes I haven't worn in several months, getting my toes done -- perhaps even barbecues or swimming pools. And then comes the bitter cold and snow. Ick. I think I would rather have just straight winter weather. None of these previews, these teaser kind of days that get my hopes up and then slam them back down again.

I tried to tell that to the boys, too. But they don't seem to want to listen to reason.

Two weeks ago, they slept for a six-hour stretch. They did the same thing the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that, and so on until nearly a week had gone by.

But they were only teasing.

Suddenly one day at 3 a.m. they both awoke screaming in absolute starvation and sucked down an entire bottle. They've been doing the same ever since.

You know, I was perfectly content with our every-three-hour routine until it changed. Now I seem to have no patience for the return of the middle-of-the-night bottle. I find myself growling at two sweet and hungry little babies about why they just can't sleep like they were doing and wondering why they feel the need to torture me so.

As if they can think rationally.

Sweet Dreams

It has been a particularly trying couple of days with the Stink-meister. We think his reflux is really bothering him & even got a stronger prescription (which means differentiating between his bottles & his brother's).

He squirms & screams while he eats, or he will just flat-out refuse to take any food more than 1/2 an ounce, no matter how long it has been since his last feeding. Sometimes we can coax him into finishing a meal if we walk around the room and jiggle him violently while he eats. On a side note, i keep wondering how THAT would work if I were still trying to nurse him. Hmm . . .

Well, just when I thought I wanted to be done with motherhood entirely, last night happened.

He was screaming, as usual, when I put him down to sleep. I changed him to his car seat so I could rock him while I fed his brother. Eventually he did doze off. And then it happened . . .

He actually laughed out loud in his sleep!

How cute is that? He must have been dreaming of the pendulum on the clock. Or his daddy singing the theme of 2001: a Space Oddyssey. Whatever it was, it really got him going. And it made my day.

This morning we are back to gagging on his bottle and business as usual. But those sweet baby dreams still make me smile.

By the way, you are invited to check out the online proof book for the boys’ three-month photo shoot!

http://picasaweb.google.com/beenblessed/VanMeterNewborn?authkey=TzzV3W-hEV8

The After-Christmas Browns

I still haven't taken down my Christmas decorations.

With the boys having been sick, it just got pushed even lower on my list of priorities. Weeks ago, the lights stopped twinkling, the garland lost its sparkle, and everything turned a bit dull. I don't understand how, when just a month ago, everything was shiny and sparkling and full of holiday wonder, it can now seem so dull and lifeless.

Christmas and New Year's are done, and there's not much to look forward to for quite a while now. Sure, there are the "holidays" like MLK day and President's Day -- all those excuses for a 3-day weekend, but those days don't hold the same sense of anticipation and excitement that "real" holidays do. There are no gifts to open, no twinkling lights, not even a single fire works presentation or parade. The days are still short, the weather is still cold -- there seems to be no end in sight.

I wouldn't say that I've got the "blues." I'm not sad about anything. There's just no tinsel in the middle of January. Holly Golightly (Breakfast at Tiffany's) had the "mean reds." I don't have that either. Life is generally pretty good. The boys are healthy again, despite a lingering bit of nasal congestion. B's job is going well -- we are even able to squeeze in a trip home to visit relatives. So red isn't the right color, either.

Brown.

Dull, kind of murky, bland, boring...

Ordinary.

I've definitely got the after-Christmas browns. Perhaps a shower & a tooth-brushing will clean it up. Too bad they don't make whitening strips for days like today.

Denied!

If there is a medicine available to prevent a pretty serious illness in infants and toddlers, shouldn't everyone have access to it?

Bronchiolitis is a lung infection caused by RSV, which occurs in epidemics every winter. It leads to a serious infection of the lungs only in children under 2 years of age. It causes wheezing, rapid or tight breathing, coughing, fever, nasal congestion. Bronchiolitis can lead to ear infection, bacterial pneumonia, and even an increased risk of asthma. The illness can last for up to 14 days and, as you can imagine, makes a baby extremely uncomfortable.

This virus is spread by someone sneezing or coughing up to 6 feet away from another individual, or by touching something which an infected person has touched. Considering that babies have to go to the doctor at the very least for well-baby checkups at one, two, four, and six months, etcetera, it is reasonable to assume that every child runs a risk of catching this virus.

There is a monthly shot called Synagis which can prevent babies from getting RSV and bronchiolitis. The only problem is that it is EXTREMELY expensive, and insurance companies often deny treatment to "healthy" babies. Rather than try to keep all infants healthy, they decide to play a game of Russian Roulette with the health and safety of thousands of children. They have a list of criteria to decide if a child is "high risk" enough to warrant this preventative treatment.

Apparently, our boys are not "high risk" enough. They were born a month premature. Each developed Respiratory Distress Syndrome while still at the hospital and had to be admitted to the NICU. One twin developed one pneumothorax and had to be in an oxygen hood for a day before graduating to a nasal cannula for another day and finally being discharged without oxygen. The other twin popped TWO pneumotoraces, spent a day in an oxygen hood before being intubated and given two doses of surfactant to mature his lungs. He spent a total of 12 days in the NICU before being discharged without oxgyen. After only one day at home, he had to be put back on oxygen and remained on it for over a month.

According to our insurance company -- which is a big company and considered to be one of the best, by the way -- our boys were not preemie ENOUGH, and since they went home without oxygen (despite the fact that one immediately went back on), they didn't need Synagis. We were denied.

Keep in mind, too, that any baby with complications, such as our little guys' lung issues as well as heart problems, is going to spend a lot more time in hospitals and doctor's offices than even a so-called "normal" baby would. Where better to be exposed to a cold virus than in a hospital or a doctor's office? One kid coughing six feet away could do it. Some parent with just a mild stuffy nose who used the same pen as I did in the hospital could do it. This virus is everywhere, yet insurance companies are turning people down for it left and right!

My pediatrician told me about a family where both parents are deaf, and thus unable to hear their baby coughing or choking or in some kind of respiratory distress. Their baby was premature. But not premature ENOUGH to qualify them for this drug, despite the extra complications involving the parents.

Well, our little guys who were seemingly not at risk enough for prevention, managed to pick up this virus. Most likely last week when we were at the hospital. Now they are lethargic, unable to eat, and hacking up sticky yellow mucus from their lungs. We have to be in contact with our pedi on a daily basis just to make sure we don't need to take a trip to the hospital for further lung treatment or an IV drip to hydrate them. We can't let them sleep on their backs. We can't leave them alone when they sleep, since this infection has also been associated with sleep apnia.

And I have to sit here and look into their little bloodshot & watery eyes and know this could last for another 2 weeks.

And know that this could have been prevented.

I Love You . . . I Hate You

Vaccinations today for the spuds.

Poor little things don't even understand what's going on and are feeling so terrible. Whimpering in pain, hardly able to eat a thing, and running mild fevers to boot. They are so exhausted they just passed out after the doctor's visit and stayed in their car seats for a good chunk of time. I stared at them for at least a half an hour, feeling so bad for them that I could almost have cried.

Then one woke up.

And the screaming woke up his brother.

So there they were, screaming -- no, shrieking -- faces turning the color of pickled beets because they wouldn't even stop long enough to breathe. Holding them didn't help. Swaddling them didn't help. Rocking them made them scream louder. Pacifiers . . . that was just a joke, since their mouths wouldn't even close around them long enough to realize that they were there, ready to comfort them. I, on the verge of losing my mind, didn't know whether I should join them in their tantrum of tears or whether I should put them in the nursery, close the door, and put on some tunes on my new iPod. That pity and overwhelming love for them that had been there just moments earlier -- gone.

I don't know where it went, or how it could have fled so quickly, but maybe it heard the screams and headed for a safe place along with my cat.

After several minutes of screaming, Stinky fell asleep on my chest and Chubs had huge tears rolling down his cheeks. How could I be so heartless to even think about not holding them and helping them through this? They are such tiny things and so dependent on me for everything! I was overcome with the desire to protect them and provide what little comfort I could.

I looked at the clock and was relieved to discover that it was time for their dose of baby Tylenol. Stinky's went down just fine, and I stroked his head and assured him that it would help him to feel better soon. Chubs, however, didn't seem to like the grape flavor. He spit his back out all over his new bib (Italian, might I add -- one of the newest fashions from Milan). I'm sure it will forever be stained with purple spots as a reminder of his hard-headedness. Instead of wanting to stroke his pate and comfort him (as I had his brother), I felt like bopping him upside the head and yelling that he'd just ruined his last chance to feel better and it served him right, the little poop!

Needless to say, he didn't listen to reason.

Now they are asleep again, my little angels. And I am left to wonder how it is that such tiny things can provoke such big emotional shifts all in under ten minutes.

Twins, eh?

It's amazing to me how having twins makes people want to talk to me -- and how they have nothing to say. Yesterday we went to the hospital & to pediatric cardiology. We arrived early to fill out paperwork and there was a good chunk of time between our 2 different appointments, allowing ample opportunity for folks to walk by and to see my little guys, all dressed in blue, hanging out in the stroller, being fed, being changed, screaming, sleeping -- you name it, they did it. I feel now like I should have counted the number of times this exchange happened (honestly, with little or no variation). stranger: oh! twins, eh? me: yep stranger: boys or girls? me: two boys (thus the blue striped shirts, the blue booties, the blue hats, the blue blankets...) stranger: you've got your hands full! me: i sure do stranger: good luck! As much as I appreciate friendliness, warm wishes, and the like, it seems to me that people should either think of something wittier to say or just smile and walk on by. I mean, really, how many times a day do I need to be told that I've got my hands full? Don't they think that I know that already? And if my hands ARE that full, why don't you lend me one of yours instead of reminding me how difficult my life must be and walking away? Even worse are the people who have the audacity to probe deeper into the origins of my duplicitous offspring. Identical or fraternal -- now that's a reasonable question. However, I try to avoid a lesson in the genetics of twinning after I answer "identical" and someone proceeds to ask if twins run in my family (since identical twins are spontaneous). I just smile and say that there is a small pocket of twins on my mother's side. Some people go on to inquire into the number of twins on my husband's side (even if they were fraternal, what his sperm would have to do with the number of eggs I release is beyond me). The worst offenders in this category of passers-by are those who ask if my boys were "natural" or "helped out." Again, skipping the genetics of identical twinning, what business is it of anyone else's if my boys were conceived in a petrie dish or in an airplane lavatory? Does the more widespread use of fertility treatments truly give someone the right to inquire as to the method of conception used? That is a bit personal. I shudder to think of the lifetimes of questions like these my boys are going to have to endure! So the next time you think about allowing the phrase, "twins, eh?" to come from your mouth, think twice. Instead of offering up a banal comment, why not offer a smoothie or a granola bar. Chances are the mom DOES have her hands full and has missed a meal or two that day.