I have been remiss in updating the twins milestones. Since this is the de facto baby book for Swee’Pea and TheMonk, I should jot down what they’re doing for posterity’s sake.

TheMonk
Height: Whopping 33 inches
Weight: 32 lbs.

Language: TheMonk’s language has taken off in the past six months. He now speaks in full sentences and will speak to me on the phone. He can sing the entire Twinkle Twinkle Little Star song as well as Happy Birthday and his ABC’s, which he could do at age 26 months. In fact, he loves to sing. He has a very impressive capacity for remembering words to songs and after listening to a song a few times, he can sing along with little trouble.

TheMonk can also count to 11. He seems to have trouble once he gets to 12. Twelve must not be a number worth remembering because he’ll skip it every time. He can also count to 20 if you don’t care if he misses 14,15 and 19.

He is hit and miss with his colors but he will get purple every time. Red is also likely to get the correct response because that’s the color of fire trucks and Lightning McQueen.

The boy knows rules. Doors must be closed. Lights have to be turned off. I swear, it’s like living with a second wife sometimes.

As for his shapes, TheMonk knows circles and triangles. He’s working on the rest. If you ask him to point to a square, he’ll point to it. But if you point to a square and ask what it is, he doesn’t respond. It’s a work in progress.

Physically, he can walk up and down a flight of stairs, jump off a step, and he’s the best 2-year-old driver on the planet. He guides his plasma car through any obstacle course with his eyes closed.

Swee’Pea
Height: 33.5 inches
Weight: 28 lbs.

Swee’Pea can count. She not only can count to 10 but she can also count 10 objects – which are totally different things. She has been experimenting with her fingers and can show you one finger, two fingers, four fingers and five fingers with no problem. If she could only master the three fingers…

She knows her basic shapes. She can point out circles, triangles and squares. Rectangles still confuse her but they confuse me too so I’m not too worried.

The girl’s language rocks. She can talk and talk… and talk… and talk… and talk. But if you meet her for the first time, she’ll act a little timid towards you, lull you into thinking she’s shy, and then… BAM! She talks your ear off.

She knows all of her colors. Black, Brown, Orange, Green, Blue, Red, Pink, Purple, Yellow. Her favorite color has been pink but lately yellow has crept into the mix.

She is a great climber and climb up onto a barstool all by herself. She is incredibly agile and can jump and twirl around on her tippy toes. She can also walk up and down stairs but isn’t as gung-ho and reckless as her brother so she often chooses to climb up and scoot down stairs.

She can put her shoes on all by herself and tries really hard with the socks but if she doesn’t slip her toe in after a couple of tries she gets frustrated and stops. We’re working on that.

So, that’s what my little ones are up to. I’m sure I’ve forgotten some things but at least when they’re older they won’t be able to whine about how I never filled out their baby books.

So, Busy Mom had to put pay up on our little wager. The Chargers finally figured out what to do about half-way through their playoff game against Busy Mom’s vanquished Tennessee Titans.

The loser had to write a post about how wonderful the other’s state is. Luckily, I didn’t have to research beyond Graceland. You can go and see Busy Mom’s Tribute to California here.

This is a great start to my week. Monday I begin my brand new job as Executive Director at a new Y. I’m off to get a full night’s sleep as visions of lighting bolts dance in my head. Wish me luck!

The Chargers take on the Tennessee Titans today. While to some it’s just another game, to me it means a little more because Busy Mom and I have a little wager resting on this game.

Busy Mom, get ready to tell everyone about the Great State of California!

Today, I placed my foot into the political arena. You can find my post at over at Becky’s place.

We recently visited a new, trendy grocery store that originated across the pond. They specialize in ready-made meals and easy, quick shopping and we stopped by drawn by the allure of tasty, easy meals.

I had Swee’Pea in an umbrella stroller while Mommy pushed TheMonk in the grocery cart. As we meandered through the aisles, Swee’Pea and I backtracked to the front of the store where we had seen the floral bouquets for sale. Swee’Pea strained to smell the flowers and I finally let her out of the stroller so she could smell to her little heart’s content.

It wasn’t busy and the two female checkout clerks that were positioned at the front of the store kept ooohing and aahing every time they watched little Swee’Pea bend over a bouquet and inhale deeply.

Finally, one of the clerks couldn’t stand the cuteness anymore. She approached us and asked Swee’Pea which bouquet of flowers was her favorite. Swee’Pea shyly pointed to the pink carnations and, before we knew it, the lady was handing them to her and saying, “These are for you because you are such a cutie.”

Swee’Pea shyly whispered a thank you and I thanked the clerk earnestly for her kind gesture.

Soon enough we were finished shopping and we made our way to the car. Swee’Pea clutched her flowers tightly to her chest with her little fingers the entire way home.

Sometimes it pays to stop and smell the roses.

When it comes to the blogging community, I have come across some great people who I know would be equally great friends were we to have a three-dimensional relationship. Amy from Savage Stories is one of those people. I have been following her beautiful twins Baylee and Brayden forever and I am convinced that we can make life a lot easier for our kids by arranging the marriages of Baylee and TheMonk and Brayden and Swee’Pea.

So, as future family, I was thrilled when Amy sent this post over this week. Please welcome Amy and her family traditions…

Over a year ago (11/7/06 to be exact–I kept the email knowing I would one day get around to it), Matthew asked several bloggers to write about their family traditions. I’ve wanted to do it ever since he asked, but two things kept me from doing it: 1) I wasn’t sure yet what my own family’s traditions would turn out to be, and 2) I was desperately trying to avoid coming to terms with the fact that my childhood traditions would be forever altered as I knew them due to a fall my grandmother took last Thanksgiving.

I was born in a town called Ruston, Louisiana. I lived there until I was in 4th grade, when we moved about 4.5 hours south. Until I was out of my parents’ house, I returned there for every Easter, summer break, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Even up until the point that I had my kids, I returned every Christmas. Santa always brought our presents to Grandma’s, and my cousins, sisters, and I would swear every Christmas morning that we had heard Santa’s sleigh bells come during the night. Every trip up to Ruston would have us eagerly anticipating the turn onto Grandma’s road, where my sisters and I would race to shout, “We’re on Grandma’s road!” All the crappy music that my dad forced us to listen to for the whole ride up suddenly faded into the background as we raced to the door and into my grandmother’s waiting arms.

I brought my kids up there for their first Christmas, which turned out to be the last one Grandma was in her own house. The following Thanksgiving, she slipped, broke her hip, and went to rehab, then, eventually, into a nursing home. My kids and I have been up to visit her several times, and each time, she was slowly slipping away. It was a coin toss whether she’d recognize me or not, and she certainly didn’t know my kids. I got home from my latest visit yesterday. She passed away tonight.

When I think of my childhood family traditions, they always revolved around great, big meals with lots and lots of family members. My grandmother always made her cornbread dressing and pecan pie for Thanksgiving and Christmas. The cousins always delighted in each other’s company.

As my sisters and I have forged our own families and traditions, I see where the basic elements of our childhood come into play: food and large gatherings. I’ve taken over Easter, my mom does patriotic holidays, and one of my two sisters does Christmas Eve at her house. Christmas morning (for the three we’ve had so far with kids) is just the small families, each at their own house. Thanksgiving is the only time of year that my husband’s family gets together each year, so we do that day with his family. But when I get home, my mother has always left me some cornbread dressing and pecan pie in my fridge.

As my children grow, I want them to know the love for their grandparents that I had for mine. And I want them to have memories of loud, loving get-togethers centered around the wonderful meals of my childhood. So far, I think we’re doing pretty well.