Happy Fourth of July, everyone! No big plans at the in-Progress household. A BBQ later in the day at the lovely and talented Mommy Esq.’s house, and then another year of kids in bed before it’s really dark out, and watching the Boston Pops on TV. We lead an exciting life, people.

Otherwise, not much to say here. M says I get to take this morning off (so why was I wide awake at 6:30am?), and it has finally stopped raining. YAHOO! I leave you with a few pictures of yesterday’s non-rainy activity: strawberry and raspberry picking at Smolak Farms. It was a hit, and the most meltdown-free morning I’ve had in a very, very long time. Just don’t try to take the strawberries away from Rebecca. Daniel preferred eating the raspberries straight off the bush.

Holy crap, people. It’s nothing short of miserable here in New England, once again. Pouring rain, such that the kids requested I sing the “rain song” this morning (i.e. rain, rain, go away). Also, requests for “no mo thunder.” Sigh.

Anyways, while I’m on the verge of seasonal affective disorder, or just a total mental breakdown, I thought I’d just put up something silly and random to make you smile. This is Daniel on Wednesday (oh lord, was that only yesterday?) morning. The pajamas came off after an oatmeal incident at breakfast. The rest… well… the rest just happened in the way things just happen with toddlers. You bet your ass I’m showing this to his prom date.

Interesting Wardrobe Choice from Goddess in Progress on Vimeo.

Pouring rain, yet again. Toddlers are going bonkers, as am I. (And, no, New England bloggers will not stop talking about the crappy weather until it actually turns into summer.) The mall play area was a mob scene this morning, and the new indoor playspace nearby was apparently so crowded the other morning that there was a line out the door. Insanity. Need sun.

In the meantime, I decided to do a little baking with the kiddos. Our favorite: zucchini muffins (see end of post for recipe link and info). While they were waking up, I laid out my strategy. When I’ve tried cooking with them once or twice before, I realized they have zero tolerance for me trying to find ingredients. This called for a full-on mise en place.

Oh, sure, it sounds snooty and French. But there’s a reason all of the TV chefs have everything laid out in little bowls ahead of time: it makes things go a whole hell of a lot smoother. That’s true enough when cooking by yourself, especially with certain fast-moving recipes with lots of ingredients. It’s even more critical when there are impatient 23-month-olds involved in the food prep.

In an unusual twist, Daniel was awake while Rebecca stayed asleep. Great, a little one-on-one activity. After putting his fingers in the eggs a few times (doh), he proved a good helper when it came to pouring things from one bowl to another, and had an… unusual whisk technique.

Was I a little nuts to do this? Especially right after my beloved cleaning ladies had been over and made everything smell nice and stop sticking to my feet? Ah well. I even let him help get the batter into the muffin pan.

The aftermath was not pretty, but it could have been worse.

And with the joy of the mise en place, do I feel like I used nearly every bowl in my kitchen? Totally. But hey, the dishwasher had already been emptied. In they all go.

And, in the end, we get super yummy muffins (yes, I just flipped them out of the pan and let them cool upside down).

By the time they came out of the oven, Rebecca was up and joined in on the fun. Yumminess was shared by all.

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We use the Stonyfield Farms recipe for zucchini bread. Only slight modifications. I substitute whole wheat flour for about half of the all-purpose. It makes two full muffin tins, or two loaf pans, so be prepared that it’s quite a lot. As with all muffins and quickbreads, make sure not to over-mix. And I bake the muffins at 375 for about 25 minutes. Enjoy!

I’ve mentioned it before, but when my kids were about five weeks old, we started a new mom class. It was at an awesome local maternity/child center, and a perfect baby-safe first outing. There were nine of us new moms. I was the only one with twins, which I’m actually grateful for. (They have since added a twin-specific new mom group, but I’m glad I took the “normal” one. I had enough twin mom friends, it’s nice to know other people, too!) We all showed up that morning, I seem to remember it was an early class, like 9:30 in the morning. Everyone was frazzled, but I think we were all thrilled that there were little seats set up on the floor for us, a Boppy for everyone, plenty of space for carseats, no worries about boobs left and right. I think the entire first class was spent with us all going “oh, your baby does that, too!” It was such a relief.

Our teacher, Carole, was the greatest. A registered nurse and lactation consultant, plus just the nicest manner and greatest group facilitating you could hope for. As the first class wound down, she told us, matter-of-factly, that we should all go out for lunch together. Right now. We all just kind of looked at each other, shrugged, and did exactly that. We did lunch after class every week for the six weeks of the class. It was great! She also told us to try to get together mid-week, and we sometimes managed that, too. It was a perfect kick-start that you need when you’re clueless and sleep-deprived.

One of the things that I marveled over the most was the dynamic of our class. Of the nine moms, the only thing we all had in common was state of residence and the birthdays of our firstborns. Different ages, different backgrounds, different professions. And yet, we all got along really well. We didn’t even have the ubiquitous “annoying person” that tends to mess up group dynamics. (Unless… crap… unless that obnoxious person is me. Um, if it is, sorry guys…) We were a totally random set of people thrown together, and it just plain worked.

And continues to work. We’ve tried to get together periodically for brunches, though I’ve missed the last few due to a strange illness curse that strikes just when we’re about to do something fun. I worried it would happen this weekend, too, but with only a very slightly runny nose on Rebecca, I decided we were a go.

7 of the 9 moms made it, and the only two who didn’t either had family in town or a tiny newborn.

We had such a blast, you’d think we got together every week. Pot-luck brunch seems to always go well. Nice time of day for the kids, plenty of kid-friendly food. The kids played, the dads pulled them around in wagons, and we even shut the door and had a mommy check-in for the first time in ages.

We marveled at the fact that our once-tiny-newborns are now about to turn two. Since our class, the group now has two more babies, and I suspect there may be a few more in the next little while (no, not me!).

And, yes, we bribed them with donuts just to try and get a group shot. With marginal success. Better luck next time.

So, a huge thanks to K/C/C for hosting, and a big hug and kiss to all of the moms. Can’t wait for a group second birthday party. I’ll make cupcakes.

It was probably a foolish choice, given the kind of week we’ve had, but I decided we were taking the kids for a haircut today. Nothing major. Daniel’s hair still isn’t particularly thick, but it was getting a little long around the ears, and I like a nice neat trim on him. And I decided to have Rebecca’s trimmed just a little, as there’s a layer of hair on the back of her head that’s about 2-3 inches shorter than the rest, so I’m trying to give it a chance to catch up and even out. Plus, their first haircuts went awfully well, I’m sure they’ll do fine….

Oy. The screaming.

The only good part is that we showed up at the kiddie salon shortly after it opened, so there was no waiting and really no other kids that had to put up with my kids’ ruckus. Rebecca was inconsolable. Daniel was eventually distracted by bubbles. Five minutes later, we were outta there. Rebecca’s trim is barely noticeable, if I hadn’t watched it get cut, I wouldn’t believe it. For Daniel, I was hoping to avoid the super-buzz-cut from the barber shop, but as this woman didn’t use the clippers at all, it’s only a very faint trim (and kind of choppy and uneven around the ears). All that for the low-low price of $18/kid. Charming.

On the plus side, both kids discovered the joy that is the lollipop. Could not stop talking about “Becca red (’wed’) lollipop” and “Daniel orange (’oh-didge’) lollipop.” So, there’s that.

I’m having one of those weeks.

One of those weeks where you just start to think, “why the f@*% do I bother?”

We all know that parenting can be, much of the time, a pretty thankless job. I’m really feeling that aspect of it right now.

It’s been cool and rainy and generally unpleasant for the last, oh I don’t know, 18 million days. We’re stir-crazy. I’m trying to take the kids out whenever possible. The thanks I get for taking them to the playspace at the mall the other day? Daniel has a complete meltdown and I am that woman dragging two toddlers (one screaming hysterically) by the arm back to the car. You know, because I decided to be bold and go without the stroller.

Yesterday, it was finally not raining. We had a playdate with some of the kids’ very favorite people. The thanks I get? Daniel throwing everything in sight (and narrating as he does it: “frow-in juice! frow-in glasses!”) and Rebecca having one of those meltdowns where they’re completely incoherent, snot running down the face, etc etc.

It did rain this morning, but very early and the skies cleared just a little in the morning. Thought I’d take the kids to the park. Here’s me, hyping up “come on! Let’s go to the playground! Wohoo, the playground!” A certain 23-month-old boy has to be wrestled into the car, wailing. I am so mean.

It’s the age plus the personality, but it’s constant whining and tantrums around here. Whining and tantrums if we stay in, cooped up. Whining and tantrums if we do something fun. Plus a minor cold and some disrupted sleep thrown in, just for kicks. I’m emotionally and physically exhausted, and dying for a NICE SUMMER DAY. And it just makes me think, “why do I bother trying to come up with fun things to do, if they’re just going to lose it, anyways?”

But I have to. I have to keep trying. And I don’t think I’m actually doing anything “wrong.” It’s a hard age, and that’s all there is to it. You just have to keep your head down and barrel through. And, call it an evolutionary survival tactic, but there have been some really nice moments in amongst the muck. Before the playspace meltdown, we actually went into a store in the mall and bought things without a stroller or a catastrophe. The constant reinforcements on saying “please” and “thank you” seem to be paying off. There are spontaneous hugs and kisses if someone is upset. And at this very moment, as I type, Rebecca is behind me, singing, while Daniel is going through a pile of books.

It’s a good thing they’re cute.

Welcome, yet again, to Thursday Theater! This is my weekly self-challenge to take and edit more video (the rest of you are welcome to join in the fun).

This week is just the Becca Bean (yes, that’s her new nickname, courtesy of my mom. I think it’s just a gateway into calling her Becca full-time…). My little girl has always seemed to need less sleep than her brother, so I frequently hear her wake up from nap and run up to grab her before she wakes her brother. Which she does on purpose. By shouting “Daniel! Daniel! [Where] Are You, Daniel? Wake up!” It’s funny, right up to the point where he wakes up much less well-rested than she is.

Thankfully, she’s pretty mellow when she’s up on her own. I was sitting at my computer while she was entertaining herself, when she brought me an old favorite among the big stack of books: Sandra Boynton’s Moo, Baa, La La La. This was one of the first books that they would “play along” with the animal sounds, and Rebecca’s performance the other day was no slouch.

Moo, Baa, La La La from Goddess in Progress on Vimeo.

Krissy has set us all with an impossible task today: pick your top 5 pictures of your kids from their first year. In the case of multiples, the top 5 of each kid solo, plus your top 5 of them together.

This is madness. I took well over 4,000 pictures in their first year of life (and my pace has only increased, so if she sets this challenge again about the 2nd year, I am screwed). Picking even 15 from those is ridiculous. So, I’m not sure if this is really my top 5, or just “some of the best.” In fact, for the sake of not going insane over this task, I’m going to choose my favorite by season (one each from Fall thru Summer), plus a newborn picture. Because I said so. And because otherwise this will take me all day and I’ll share approximately 300 shots.

Anyways, here you go.

First up, my Baby A, my Big D, my Señor Fussy-Pants: Daniel.

The photo we used for his birth announcement, approximately 10 days old.

Two months old, at our first mom/baby class, having some tummy time.

Six months old and digging sweet potatoes.

Daniel and the tickle-monster, eight months old.

11 months and loving the kiddie pool.

Alright. I’m just going to stop there for Daniel. I’m not going to keep looking at the million other great ones. I swear.

On to Baby B, the Nugget, Miss Becca Bean.

Rebecca’s birth announcement picture, 10 days old.

The swaddle model, nearly 4 months old.

7 months old, getting a kick out of the shared bathtub on the kitchen table.

Nearly 9 months old, the new crawler tests her skills.

11.5 months old, Rebecca enjoys a graham cracker in the shade at the lake house.

And the pair of ‘em. Two totally different kids, but always linked.

An early favorite: one week old, leaving the hospital.

Out for a stroll, 3 1/2 months old.

Their 8-month chair pictures were probably my all-time favorites.

Almost 10 months old, and playing outside was such a hit!

One year old!

And just one more as a bonus. A very, very special place in my heart for the polaroid that was my very first picture with both kids. Three days old.

I didn’t watch Jon & Kate Plus 8 last night. I didn’t watch it the previous few weeks, either.

Sometime last year, I was watching it pretty regularly. I had my DVR set to record it, I enjoyed back episodes. The kids, obviously, were super cute. The relationship dynamic was weird, but I sort of came to understand it and just accept it in the manner of “everyone’s relationship is different.” While I knew they had more help and more sources of income than the show really dwelled on, there was something sort of normal about them.

I started to lose interest when the travel and freebies were seemingly the focus of every episode. I don’t begrudge anyone for taking someone up on an offer for a free trip or whatever, but I stopped enjoying watching it.

Then they got the dogs. I couldn’t even watch the entire episode when they got the two GERMAN SHEPHERD puppies. It was clearly such an abysmal idea, I just couldn’t even bear to witness it. While I’m not a model dog owner, I care enough and know enough about dogs that… lord. Forget it. I tuned out. Do they even still have the dogs? Have they disappeared the way babies tend to do on sitcoms? I have no idea.

Then, they splashed all over the front pages of the trashy magazines in the grocery check-out aisle. Amazing how fast things can turn when you’re in the public eye. Flame up, crash hard. I don’t care whose “fault” this whole thing is. Everything cuts about six different ways, and it’s none of my business to speculate.

But I can’t watch it. Not even in the “disaster but can’t look away” kind of way. I didn’t even really intend to blog about it. Alas. Even the tweets from the last couple of episodes have been painful to read, and I’m not even watching. You can’t get away from it.

I’m a child of divorce. A few of them, even. Now, being a married adult with my own kids, I have a renewed appreciation for how much it sucks. SUCKS. Sucks for the kids. Sucks to end a relationship. Sucks in a million different ways. And that’s under normal, even “ideal” circumstances when people aren’t screaming at each other, aren’t moving out of state, aren’t cheating on anyone, and are generally more or less amicable, at least to outside appearances. And, you know, not on television or in the gossip magazines.

Knowing the pain of that, in varying degrees, is at least one reason why it feels so very wrong to watch any of this stuff. It’s one thing to watch someone on TV make a fool of themselves, or do something generally stupid, gross, or even dangerous. This…. this is just too painful.

Please, avert your eyes.

Hope everyone out there is having a lovely day.

As you can see, I went for the same gift as last year: a trio of framed photos spelling out DAD. Unlike last year, however, I was unable to cajole the kids into standing together with the letter A. Darn mobile toddlers. As it is, it’s a miracle I got these photos taken. There was about a one-hour window wherein it was a) not raining; b) M wasn’t home to ruin the “surprise”; and c) I actually had a functional camera.

Anyways, we’ve let him sleep in a bit. Now I’m off to make a little breakfast and deliver it upstairs, then I think we’ll hit the pool.

Happy Father’s Day, one and all!