Sunday, December 23, 2012

Twas the night before Christmas...

Let's be clear. I don't think there's ever a time when not a creature is stirring in our house. I'm okay with that. Just wanted to mention it.

The Christmas season is fully upon us, and we are having the best time. Your dad and I have made a conscious effort to not try to do too much but to make sure that we are enjoying this season and you two as fully as possible. That said, we have done and are doing a lot! We have two trees this year – one in the living room, all twinkling and pretty by the fireplace and one upstairs in your playroom that you got to “decorate” to your hearts’ content. That poor tree (a little tipsy and crooked) is still being decorated as you change your minds about best placement of favorite ornaments on a pretty regular basis.

The stockings are hung by the chimney (had to be with care since the stocking hook holder things are rather precariously perched) and SaraBeth (your elf on the shelf) is the highlight of your morning, Jane, as you slide down the stairs and find her in record time. Then, you’re happy to race back up to your sister to help her find her. Your helping usually involves a gleeful, “Luce! Luce! Come find SaraBeth!” And then you run to wherever she’s hiding and point her out. Pretty cute stuff, Kid.

You both love projects and helping in the kitchen, so we’ve done some holiday crafty stuff, and, most importantly, made cookies! Cut-out sugar cookies, complete with frosting and loads of sprinkles. It was maybe the best mess we’ve ever made on a stay-at-home Monday. We made cinnamon applesauce ornaments and gingerbread houses, and although you consumed quite a lot of candy in the making of those houses, I’m shocked and pleasantly surprised that the houses themselves are still standing and haven’t been chewed on at all (by you girls or Daisy!).

You’ve been involved in the wrapping of most of our Christmas gifts, and I’m anxious to see how it goes when it’s time to give those gifts. You know who is getting what, and I’m curious to find out if you tell people in advance what they’re going to be opening or if you’ll just be standing in front of them jumping up and down, hoping they’re as excited about it as you are.

We’ve been to Union Station (one of your favorite places) a few times this season, and you’ve loved seeing the holiday decorations (Lucy, you are quite unhappy that they took down the blood sausage exhibit, and I haven’t figured out how to tell you that it might not be coming back. Ever.) When we go to Union Station, your dad always gets a mocha from Parisi (only the best coffee in the city), and you two always pick out a truffle from the chocolate store. That’s right. A truffle. They make some really cute candies/chocolates designed to appeal to little people like yourselves (think marshmallow on a stick, dipped in sprinkles), but no. You ladies want a truffle. And it’s quite a selection process, in which you, Janey, change your mind about 7 times, and you, Lucy, know within 30 seconds which one you want. And then. And then, it is one of my favorite things to watch the two of you enjoy your truffle. You savor that thing. And I love that about you both. That you already appreciate certain foods and know when something is good.

We took you to see The Polar Express movie, and you both loved it. That night, when we read the book, Luce, you pointed out to me all the differences. You had a couple of Christmas concerts at preschool (one for the grandmas and grandpas, one for the tree lighting), so you’ve been practicing a few songs very enthusiastically. For some reason, your favorite place to do this is at the kitchen table while we’re eating dinner. One of you bursts into song and then we all join in, and then all of a sudden, Deck the Halls is being sung at the tops of your lungs, in the screechiest of voices until we all fall apart laughing. Best dinners ever.

We’ve driven around in some of our favorite Christmas-lit neighborhoods. The joy in your voices as you stare in wonder out your windows (which you demanded be rolled down) and hollered, “LOOK! It’s Santa!”, “LOOK! It’s Frosty!”, “LOOK!, It’s a giant snowglobe!”…

Here's what I know. This is my favorite Christmas so far. The joy and wonder that I get to see and experience through your eyes and voices and exuberant little bodies... I love you little meatballs.

Recent Quotes

While playing doctor with Ralph the cat. Lucy: “Uh-oh. Looks like you have some beans in here” (peering in his ear). Jane: “and some pizza!”

Jane to me: I just don’t like you.

Lucy when it was cold outside and you had a runny nose: My nose is watering!

Jane, when you found out our friend Katy’s cat had died: But she doesn’t have to be sad anymore. Tell her I’m growing a new Tiny Zorak for her in my belly.

Janey, you have picked up the word “apparently”, and you use it often and in the correct context. It’s kind of adorable: Apparently some sprinkles fell on the floor and I ate them.

You were both racing around the house with your Star Wars action figures. Jane, you had Luke in one hand, Darth Vader in the other: We have to save the empire! And the pizza!

Friday, October 26, 2012

My little meatballs

Happy 3rd Birthday, Girls! It seems like you have been a part of my life so much longer than three years. And it also seems like you joined us only last week. You both love to hear the story of your birth. Luce, you especially like the part about how my friend Stephanie brought you your very first cupcake to the hospital (I have conveniently left out the part that you didn’t actually get to eat that cupcake. It makes for a story you much prefer).

This birthday of yours, you two turning three, has made me weepy. It’s probably at least partially related to pregnancy hormones, but I also am very aware of the fact that you two are no longer babies. Not even toddlers. You’re in the official “preschooler” category, and more and more, you’re my little girls. Don’t get me wrong. That’s so wonderful. I love this age, this stage, the things you do and say so much. We talk. The other night at dinner, Lucy, you said, “Mama, let’s have a conversation”. Seriously. So I love it, but I also miss you two as babies and toddlers. When you hold my face with your hands, they aren’t chubby anymore. You want to be snuggled, rocked, and held much less often these days. You have both become independent in so many areas, which is absolutely as it should be, but also absolutely difficult and tear-inducing as I learn to be a mama who is willing to let you grow up. So be patient with me, little meatballs (you will always be my little meatballs). We’re learning a lot together as you two grow.

Things I know about you:

Lucy. You like to snuggle –deep under your covers, you like to feel the weight of something (or someone) around you. You are sensitive – you get these beautiful big worried eyes if you think that someone isn’t being treated fairly (a real someone or a book or movie someone). You also cannot handle it if your sister or your dad or I talk to you sternly. You’re convinced that if you are corrected, it means you’re in trouble. You take off running and through your tears, you tell us that you’re running away and “you’ll never see me again”. You are a leader. This is more than being bossy (yes, it’s true, sometimes you’re that, too!), it’s something quieter and more confident. You are content to be dropped off at preschool and quickly start doing your thing. You give me a hug and a kiss and you’re off. You love stories – books, but also the made-up ones that your dad and I tell you. You have a mind like a steel trap; you routinely correct us on facts (“no, Shawna gave me this”), and you also memorize your books so you can “read” them to me and Janey. You love the color purple, cupcakes, washing dishes, and chicken (plain, of course). You’re such a little nurturer – you happily cover Jane up with her blanket when she can’t get it right, and I’ve seen you stroking her hair when she’s upset. You completely dress and undress yourself, usually insisting that we don’t help you, even when this ends in tears because you just can’t get your shoes or that one sleeve to cooperate. You still have the best full belly laugh I’ve ever heard. You love to sing and dance (dancing involves one elbow being thrust into the air and then you basically spin around that point) and do projects.

Jane. You love animals. Ralph is your favorite (along with the concrete cat that you carry around and the ceramic bunny and the bronze lion), and you often holler at Daisy when she’s being too rough with him. Speaking of Daisy, you started calling her Daisy Jr. completely out of the blue. You hate to be covered up in bed and either sleep spread eagle on your back, or curled into a tight ball on your stomach with your arms directly underneath you so your hands stick out just under your bottom. You have such command over your body. I love to watch you at the park as you race up stairs and ladders and climb any- and everything. You jump or run or gallop almost everywhere you go, and you never seem to tire. You adore your sister, often telling her that you love her (unprompted!) and going in search of a toy for her when she’s otherwise inconsolable. You refer to her as “my Luce”. You are willing to eat almost anything, and you like most of it. You also hate to stay seated at the table. In fact, I don’t think we’ve had a meal since not being strapped in your high chair where you’ve been able to remain in your seat the entire seven minutes. You prefer to eat fast, jump down, dance, run, and hop around, coming back for a bite every now and then. I think you would be perfectly content to let me dress and undress you for the rest of your life. You are adamant about picking out your shirt, but other than that, you’re pretty hands off. You are the one who is a bit reluctant to let me drop you off at preschool, and you’re also the one who gives out hugs to all the kids in your class when I pick you up. You are not afraid of anything.

Lucy and Jane, you are two of the most wonderful people I know. You are funny and kind, smart and inquisitive, beautiful and creative. I truly couldn’t love you more. Thanks for letting me be your mama. Oh, and Happy Birthday!

All my love,

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Almost Three?!

Ah, my sweet, little, chocolate-covered, Lucy and Jane. You have become older, wiser, funnier, taller, smarter people since I last wrote. You are almost three. THREE! I’m still not entirely sure how that happened.

You love Daisy, our new mini-van, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. We can’t go to the library, the park, or Costco often enough. You preface about a third of your comments with, “When we were little…”. You are so good at puzzles, naming your feelings (Jane, you scrunch up your face and say, “I’m kinda nerbous”), and giving hugs.

You’ve been to Wisconsin with the Stroessners (now you like to say “it’s hard to keep track of all my cousins”); you’ve seen the giant bean (or goose egg if you insist, which you almost always do – insist, that is) in Chicago; you’ve learned that you’re going to be big sisters.

Jane, you love this little stone turtle that the previous owners left in the garden. I mean, you LOVE that turtle. You carry him (her?) all around the yard with you, and you’ve been known to sneak it into the wagon so he can go with you to the park. That poor turtle got sat in the middle of an anthill one day, and you were beside yourself when you found him covered in ants. You quickly picked him up to brush them off, then almost as quickly began crying when you became covered in ants.

You also love to get dirty. We had a huge pile of dirt in our front yard, and you and Lucy both enjoyed helping your dad shovel it into a wheelbarrow and dump it in the backyard. Luce, you stayed as clean as you could, which means you had dirty shoes and socks. Jane, you got as dirty as you could, which means you decided to slide down that hill of dirt. On your stomach. Head first. Repeatedly.

When you can’t be dirty, you like to be naked. You especially like to strip off all your clothes, let yourself out the front door, and run around the yard. Our neighbor, Nick, has had the privilege of enjoying this a couple of times, watching me or your dad chase you down and bring you back inside. Last time we were outside together, he asked you about it, and you told him (no kidding) “sometimes I like to do it when I’m mad at my mom”. What?!

Lucy, you are a hilarious sister. You want to be right, you want to be in control, you want to call the shots. This would be so much easier if Jane would just cooperate with you  A couple of weeks ago, the two of you were having a fairly heated debate about whether or not there was a bug or a “bug statue” in the car. I had decided not to get involved. Finally, you said, “Okay, here’s the deal. You think it’s a bug; I think it’s a bug statue. Okay, sweetie?” I love that you’re learning you don’t always have to be right; there doesn’t always have to be a winner; sometimes, it’s okay for you and your sister to think different things.

Luce, you are so capable, insisting on dressing yourself, even down to your shoes and socks. You have some pretty strong opinions about what you like and don’t like, especially when it comes to food. Although you’re eating better these days, you still don’t always want to try new things. The other evening, you helped me make soup; I thought for sure since you had helped you’d try it. I was wrong. No amount of pleading, bribing or cajoling could get you to put that spoon in your mouth. Finally, you looked at me, frustrated I’m sure, and said, “Mom, you know I like food plain. Remember?” An hour later (after you and Jane had been playing, the kitchen had been cleaned, and Daisy had gotten into your untouched bowl of soup), you decided you were ready for a “sample”.

Ladies, I don't want to give you the wrong idea. You're not always particularly pleasant. We have had moments (days, even weeks) of experiencing THE TERRIBLE TWOS. But even then, even when you're at your most frustrating, most whiny, most buggary selves... well, even then, you are still my amazing daughters, my meatballs, my chicken-littles, and I love you very, very much. Even then.

All my love and then some,

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Your Dad


Guess what? (Whenever I say that to you, neither of you says “what?”. You always say, yeah. Weirdos) It’s Father’s Day. Woo-hoo; I know. That doesn’t mean a lot to you beyond the fact that you’ll probably sing Happy Birthday to your dad. It’s one of your favorite songs and you sing it to people regardless of whether or not it really is their birthday.

In honor of your dad and the day, I thought we'd play the interview game. Even getting ready for this game was funny. I told you I was going to interview you and said that means I'd ask you a question and you'd tell me what you think. Jane, for some bizarre reason, you shouted out "PINK!". Well, at least we know what you're thinking...

What is Daddy's name?
L: Um... Jeff!
J: I don't know.

What do you love most about Daddy?
L: I'm not a daddy. Strawberries!
J: Crackers!

How do you know Daddy loves you?
L: (she grins) He loves me thiiiis much (stretches out arms). And he lets me get babydolls.
J: He loves me thiiiiis much (attempts to stretch arms wider than Luce) and he gives me vitamins.

What is your favorite thing to do with Daddy?
J: Play basketball!
L: Make ice cream.

Is there anything you want Daddy to know on Father's Day?

I want to take a minute to tell you about this guy who is your dad. He loves you both so much. He adores you. He misses you when you have a slumber party at Nana’s house.

When he pulls in the driveway from work in the evening, we’re often sitting outside on the front steps eating freezer pops. Or sometimes coloring on the sidewalk with chalk. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, as soon as you see that he’s there, you race to the garage and are bouncing around before he even opens his door. If he’s lucky, you’ll follow him inside so he can change into shorts. But you know what? He doesn’t even care. If you’re insistent and less willing to let him change, he just sits on the sidewalk in his work pants and colors with you. Or helps you water the plants. Or lets you drip melted freezer pop on him. That’s how he is.

Daddy pulls out the watercolors and paints with you. He lets you use the glitter glue to your hearts’ content. He helps you catch and inspect all sorts of bugs. He is infinitely patient with you.

He’s the best tickler/chaser/hide-and-seek player. You love to wrestle with and climb all over your dad. You beg for more “shark kisses”. He pushes you highest on the swings and helps you dangle from the monkey bars.

Daddy is so proud of you, Jane. He is so proud of you, Lucy. He’s your biggest fan and always will be.

We're pretty lucky to have him.


Monday, June 4, 2012

Boys already?

Dear Lucy,

This morning you told me you have a boyfriend. WHA?! You are two and a half, and this is at least four years before I expected to hear any of that sort of nonsense. But you redeemed yourself when I asked why he's your boyfriend. You grinned and told me he makes you laugh.

Love you.

Friday, May 18, 2012

Little girls

Sometimes it overwhelms me that you are no longer babies. That first year was tough. Great, but nearly impossibly difficult. There's a webforum for twin parents I would visit when I couldn't figure out how to handle whatever was going on. I started out in the "Expecting Twins!" room where it was fun to poke around and think about how amazing it was going to be when you became a living out loud part of my world. Then, it was "Twins (The First Year)". Much more daunting. Anywho, while it was happening, it seemed like we would always be in that world. But recently I wanted some thoughts on bedtime (because goodness gracious, girls, you are not making that part of the day easy) and what has happened?! We're in the "Twins (Age 2-4)" forum now. You are full-on people now. With wants (lots of them) and desires and talking (so much talking) and crying (sometimes a lot of crying) and sweaty socks and grass-stained jeans and demands for pretzels and lemonade for breakfast and "just olives, mom" for dinner.

You both usually get up in the morning on your own and come down to our bedroom around 6am. 6:30 if you're letting me sleep in. But before you leave your bedroom, you collect your favorite 20 or so stuffed animals, dolls, and blankets, and then somehow manage to make it down the stairs with your armloads. This morning I could hear you, Lucy, saying so tiredly, "No Jane. Not yet". This was the first morning that one of you made the trip down without the other. But Jane, it was nice to have you to myself for a bit this morning. We snuggled on the chair, and I scratched your back (another one of your demands. If my hand goes too slowly, or I stop, you replace it on your back and glare at me. funny stuff, kid.) Then we made cinnamon toast and you got started on your breakfst while I got your sister up.

You started on your breakfast. As in, I didn't have to spoon-feed you oatmeal. It's such a joy and privilege to get to be your mama and watch you grow up into such lovely, funny, smart people. It's also making me the teensiest bit sad.

Love you so much.


Monday, May 14, 2012

Mother's Day #3


My third Mother's Day has now come and gone, and I want to tell you girls some of the things I really enjoy about being your mama.

Hugs. Both of you run at me at a cringe-inducing full speed and throw yourself into my arms. Or onto my leg. Luce, you wrap your little legs around me and squeeze. Jane, your hugs are fast - you give a hard squeeze and then are off on a sprint to the next thing.

Conversations. You talk and talk and talk. There are so many things you want to know, so you ask. And so many things you want me to know, so you tell. And it's super cute when you're hyped up because then the chatting is at a much faster pace with no breaks for air, and you both use your hands for emphasis, usually to touch or hold my face to make sure you have my full attention.

Sister-stuff. You guys are friends and playmates and sometimes each others greatest source of frustration. And it is all fabulous. I love listening to you when you don't know I'm there. Lucy, you are usually the director. Okay, Jane, you go over there and you're the cat and that's your baby and Jane, wait! Jane, come back. Jane, if you want to lay on your pillow, you can just lay on your pillow. And then Janey, you come running to find me with a scowl on your face and say, I'm just cranky at Lucy because she won't let me ___ (fill in the blank with any number of things).

Toddler breath. Okay, I will admit that this is least enjoyable after you eat a bag of funyuns (yes, that's a true and unfortunate story). But Jane, you are so funny and weird about breath. If you catch a whiff of toothpaste, you demand to smell my breath. I open up and you try to stuff your entire head in my mouth. Then ask, did you brush your teef? You adore dental floss because it's minty-fresh. And, this is what I haven't figured out. Your breath ALWAYS smells like cilantro (except after the funyuns). You don't eat cilantro. So...?

Your enthusiasm. We routinely make up stories for you and you love them. We've done this since you were tiny, so there are lots of stories and characters at this point, and to be honest, I can't keep them all straight. There is nothing as frustrating to you as when you want to hear a story about Charlie or Susanna and I can't remember the story-line. Yikes! But, when I do remember, you ooh and ahh and act appropriately surprised every time. Your little faces are adorable when your eyes open wide with wonder as if it's the first time you're hearing it.

Big imaginations
. From bear hunts to "dis is our umbrella" (a tree in the front yard) to picnics with all your twins (you don't just have baby dolls - everything is considered a twin and comes as a set of two, so you'll pull out a bear and a unicorn and call them your twins), you ladies live and play by your vast imaginations.

There are about a zillion more things I could put on this list... I love you two meatballs so much.


Friday, March 16, 2012

Spring has sprung!

A couple of quick updates for you silly little girls.

*You made my week (not exaggerating)when you BOTH ate bok choy. I am not even kidding. Lucy, you are the pickiest little eater ever. It makes me almost crazy. The only reason I haven't started you in toddler eating therapy (no, that's not a real thing. at least not that I know of) is because you occasionally eat an entire pan of roasted broccoli. You are always looking at food and cocking your head and saying, "I'm not gon' like dat". Or, without even touching it, much less tasting it, shouting, "YUCKY!" So, imagine my shock, disbelief, then absolute joy, when you watched your sister toss back some bok choy and then you were interested in trying it, too. AND THEN YOU HAD SECONDS. Thank you, kiddo. And Janey, thank you for being an awesome little eater. You love asparagus, salmon, rice and beans among a zillion other things.

*Last night we were sitting on the front steps outside eating rainbow sherbet. You guys love to slurp the "soup" from the spoon at the end. Luce, I told you to look at the swirl in your spoonful - it was all orange with a pretty little spin of raspberry. You put your little face right down to the spoon and looked and looked, and when I realized you looked confused and unhappy, I asked what was going on. You disgustedly announced, "I don't want a squirrel in my ice cream soup".

*Janey, you have been picking flowers in earnest. This is my second year of willingly accepting the idea that all the lovely flowers in our yard are even more lovely when they're being fully enjoyed by you and your sister, and obviously, full enjoyment involves destruction. You have plucked every crocus, and now you're working on the blanket of little purple flowers in the front yard. It's so sweet that you pick one for yourself, then one for "Yuce". "Here you go, Yucey. I got dis one for you".

Love you ladies!

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Terrible twos. Really?


You are two and a half (almost). It is the best time to be a mama, even with the madness and mayhem of the crankiness, whinyness, and general frustration that seems to come along with being two. You are the funniest little people ever, not to mention the cutest.

Here's what you've been up to:

*Luce, the other day, when Janey tried to climb over you and you got hurt (or maybe just frustrated (see above)), you said, "Jane, you're breaking my heart. Please don't do that". WHAAA? Where do these statements, comments, thoughts even come from?!

*Jane, one recent morning, you woke from what must have been an interesting dream. You told me you don't like Zorasaur. The best I can figure based on your description is that this is a combination of Zorak (our friend Katy's ginormous cat who may have chomped on your arm) and the dinosaurs you're learning about at preschool.

*Lucy, when Jane was crying, you wanted to comfort her. "Here Janey. Let me wipe your tear". And then you proceeded to wipe away her tears with your fingers. And then you gave her a hug. And then I nearly choked on the mommy lump lodged in my throat.

*Jane, we finally had some snow. You were both beyond elated. For a solid week, you would find a remaining patch of snow sitting in some shade, and loudly announce, "IT'S STILL SNOWING!". Nothing I could say would convince you that it wasn't in fact snowing, that was just leftover snow. I am silly for even trying to argue with you.

*Luce, your imagination is impressive. I don't know how to even tell how much (if any) truth is incorporated in some of the tales you tell. About one of your buddies at daycare: "He called me a pickle. And I said, I'm Hilda or Lucy Sessner. And he said, It's nice to meet you Hilda or Lucy Sessner".

*Jane, at Costco, when another mom told her little girl, oh, look, it's some more babies, you announced, "Actually, we're little girls." Not sure if it was the actually or your facial expression that cracked me up more.

*You had show and tell at preschool this week. Since the theme is animals, all the kiddos were supposed to bring in a favorite stuffed animal. You guys announced without any hesitation that you'd be taking in your unicorn (Jane) and your flamingoat (Lucy). That's right. I wrote flamingoat. Because that's what you're sure it's called.

I love finding your little gloves in my boots and half-eaten cookies in my purse and toy cars in my coat pocket. I love that when I talk to you, usually trying to explain something, or sometimes just telling a story, you demand, "Say it again, Mama!" You love it when people talk to you like any other conversation. You love being introduced to adults. You love fruit snacks and if I forget to have them with me when I pick you up at preschool - whew, boy, am I in for it.

It has been an absolute joy watching you two become sister-friends. And, just in case you go through a weird phase of watching old TLC shows, that is totally different than sister-wives. You giggle together, wrestle together, play hide together (it's not really hide and seek yet, just hide), call for each other if your sister is in the other room. You two are so very different, yet so very much a part, maybe the most important part, of each others lives. I love you little meatballs very much.


Monday, January 9, 2012

Happy New Year!


You really LOVED Christmas. The music, the lights, Santa... Whenever we would get in the car, you usually wanted to listen to Christmas music. Lucy, you always asked, "What's dis one about?" And Jane, you usually answered her, "It's CHWISSMASY music!" You're obsessed with Nativity sets, especially baby Jesus. Incidentally, you have one real baby Jesus (from an actual nativity set) and one fake baby Jesus (he's dressed all in pink and is actually the baby that belongs to the dollhouse set). But you don't discriminate.

As we were waiting in line for Santa at the luminary walk early December, we explained that when we got to Santa, you were supposed to tell him what you wanted for Christmas. When it was our turn, you both stood just within his hearing range and shouted, "I wanna Barbie!". Then, as we were leaving, his elf gave you each a packet of fruit snacks. You're thoroughly confused now because your understanding of fruit snacks is that they're Halloween treats. (YES, we're still trick or treating at our house. Pretty much daily, you decide you're ready for a fruit snack pack, so you get your Halloween bags, go to the kitchen door, gently knock and tell me "twick o tweat").

You loved decorating our tree, taking the time to play with all the ornaments. What's dat one? is a favorite question. You were particularly interested in the wicked witch on her bicycle, the kittens in the basket, sylvester the cat, and winnie the pooh. Tinkerbell's wings didn't fare too well this Christmas. Once there were presents under the tree, you reached a whole new level of interest, and Jane, you picked up one box at least daily to ask me about it. But you were both so good about not trying to unwrap anything and knowing that you needed to wait for Santa to bring your presents Christmas morning. Now that Christmas decorations have come down, you're definitely missing them. Lucy, you just recently asked in a bewildered tone where dat Santa went and I told you he got packed up with the other decorations. You looked so forlorn when you told me, "dat makes me berry sad".

We've been living with Nana and Pops since mid-December (Saturday, December 10th in case you're wondering) because we sold our house and don't close on the new one until the end of January. You girls have handled the transition so well. Luce, you cried several times, saying that you wanted to go home. Broke my heart. We had been telling you for several weeks that someone else was going to live in our house, we were moving in with Nana, then we're getting a new house. Your beautiful minds seem to have grasped these concepts, but I still cried a little the last time I took you through our almost empty house - the home you lived in these first two years of your lives, the home we brought you to when you finally got to check out of the NICU, the home where you've played and laughed and learned and become little girls. We'll miss Leo and runs around the block, and you'll probably miss hearing so many helicoptors. We walked through the house and you both said goodbye to your bedroom, your bathtub (so much splashing went on there!), the backyard... We took you to go through the new house recently, and you seemed to love exploring. Can hardly wait until the end of January when we actually get to live in it.

Funny things you've said and done recently:

Wead me 'bout da crackernut. (Nutcracker) - Jane
Any time I call you by a term of endearment or a nickname (such as meatball, monkey, sweetpea...), Lucy, you tell me, "I'm Hilda or Lucy Sessner". If I call Jane those same names, you tell me, "It's Hilda or Janey Sessner". I love that you think everyone's first name is Hilda.
I also love that you think everything is spelled L-U-C-Y. You know that's how to spell your name, and I overheard you reading the stockings, pointing to each letter. L-U-C-Y "Janey!"; L-U-C-Y "Mommy!"; L-U-C-Y "Daddy!"

I love you more than I can understand. Happy 2012!