10 Things I Love About My Kindergarteners

Zach and Allie with their cousin Trent

It's been nearly three months now since Zach and Allie -- my babies -- have been in kindergarten.

I'm sure a lot of us moms share the same mishmash of emotions as our youngest starts school -- alternating between between gearing up for a happy dance because we finally get a chunk of our lives back and grabbing the tissue box because we realize that our days filled with chasing butterflies, blowing bubbles, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and maneuvering the big "car" cart at the grocery store have been traded in for homework, backpacks and school lunches.

And somehow having twins makes it feel like it's sped by even faster. Between the blur of sleeplessness in the early days and the fatigue of chasing and entertaining two little balls of energy in the toddler days, this whole having-all-my-kids-in-school-now thing still seems a bit surreal. But I do have to say that I've always loved having a kindergartener -- or two! -- in the house.

With Zach and Allie, I love that they:

• Still hold my hand as I walk them to school ... and then give me a hug and kiss before they join their classmates in line. Zach gives me an extra special, unique, crossed-arm wave each day as his class heads into the classroom and the last few Moms (yes, I confess, I'm one of them) lingers around to wave good-bye.
  
• Are so excited on days they get to buy lunch. "Mommy, mommy, check what's for lunch today," Allie always asks.
• Want to do homework. "More, more, can we do one more page, Mom." No bribes, rewards or threats involved ... so refreshing (uh-hum, Blake. Cough, cough, Nick).
  
• Get so excited when they see Blake or Nick at school. When it happens, it's always the first thing they tell me. "Mom, I saw Nick in the bathroom today." or "Mom, I saw Blake going into the cafeteria." So sweet ...
  
• Sing new songs around the house. "B-L-U-E spells blue. B-L-U-E spells blue. Hi, ho, did you know, B-L-U-E spells blue."
• Look around at words and sound them out with a new mission in mind. Out at dinner one night and Zach, his eyes stuck on a restaurant sign and his eyebrows scrunched as his brain juice pumped, asked, "Mom, does that spell pizza?" Indeed it does.
• Are so excited when I come into their class to help. "Mommy ... are you coming in to help today," they ask about every other day.
• Come home eager to share what they've done. "Mommy, look, we made pumpkins," as they proudly hold up their paper cutout pumpkins covered in orange square pieces of tissue paper.
• Have huge smiles on their faces when I pick them up at the kindergarten gate at the end of the day.
• Pretend to play teacher when they're at home. Allie will grab a book and read it to her class, which usually consists of stuffed animals or imaginary students. It's so cute watching her hold up the book to show her "students."

"And it is still true, no matter how old you are, when you go out into the world, it is best to hold hands and stick together."

~ Robert Fulghum, All I Really Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

Wonder Twin Powers ... Activate

Like any other siblings, Zach and Allie have their ugly moments. Usually it involves fighting over a toy. You know how it is with siblings -- there are a zillion toys in the house, but at the same exact moment they both want that cheesy Madagascar giraffe that came in the Happy Meal.

Or maybe Allie will want Zach to color with her while Zach wants to play pirates. Sometimes it's deciding which movie or TV show to watch -- Clone Wars or Angelina Ballerina.

But ultimately they are best pals and fiercely protective of one another, especially Zach over Allie. When I drop them off at preschool, I'll give them each a kiss, then off they walk, hand-in-hand, to join their friends.

When we go to the park, they dart off again, tightly clutching one another's hand.

Although they're only 4 years old, I've already formed the conclusion that the woman who ends up marrying Zach is going to be one lucky lady. Not just because he's so darn cute and has that sweet, irresistible side, but because he will have had a lifetime of experience in making a female happy. Zach will do anything, and I mean anything, in his power to keep his beloved sister happy. When she's upset, he's upset, too. If she's sad, he'll cry as well. And he's always doing his darndest to make sure everything is right in Miss Allie's world.

Some examples:

• At bedtime, Zach and Allie will ask for water, talk about the agenda for the next day, run from one bed to the other, ask to turn the light on -- basically anything to stall the inevitable going to sleep. Allie sometimes suffers sudden or imaginary injuries. "My leg hur-hurts," she'll sob. Then Zach will come running out, "Mommy, Allie needs a band-aid." Except he doesn't pronounce band-aid correctly. He'll say, "Allie needs a bam-babe."
• Getting Allie dressed in the morning is, more often than not, a battle. Many times she'll want to wear something inappropriate -- a sundress in January, tights in June, her Christmas dress in March, you know what I mean. I'll suggest some things she can wear. Then Zach, sensing my growing frustration, will peek in her closet ... "What about this dress, Allie? Pink is your favorite color."
• Sometimes Allie will throw a temper tantrum over something, sometimes trivial, sometimes not. Maybe she wants a piece of candy she can't have, or maybe she is looking for her 6-inch Snow White figurine that could be in one of about 1,014 places. She's kind of like a roller coaster. She slowly starts chugging up the hill and then, once at the top, all heck breaks loose at a frightening speed. Whenever she goes to this dark, ugly place, Zach will muster every ounce of compassion and creativity he has to entice her out. "Allie, here's your blankie," or "Allie, here's your favorite doggie," he'll say in his sweetest voice.
• And lately when I ask them to put their toys away, Zach will comply, putting his toys away as asked. Then I ask Allie a second and third ... and fourth time. Enter Zach ... "Allie, I'll help you put your toys away." And he's gotten really good lately. Not even any prompting from me ... On his own he'll suggest they get started before they move on to something else. "Allie, let's put the toys away first," he'll say, looking up at me. That's when it hits me ... Allie's not the only girl he's trying to make happy.
  

Everyone Loves A Party ... (Especially Zach and Allie)

Over the past few weeks I learned that in a 4-year-old's eyes, being invited to a birthday party trumps just about everything else in life ... except perhaps Christmas and going to Disneyland.

Several weeks back as I picked up Zach and Allie from preschool and fished out the photocopied "Letter F" book with hand-colored fish, frogs and firefighters from their folders, there it was, hidden in the deep fold.

Unmistakable by the smallish, almost square-sized envelope with "Zach and Allie" carefully penned on the outside, inside was a piece of paper that would unleash excitement, and as I soon discovered, a valuable -- although short-lived-- tool in my Mommy arsenal.

Now that Christmas is over, I can't use Santa anymore. If you're a parent, you know what I'm talking about.

"If you want Santa to come, then you need to pick up your toys."

"Santa's watching you, you need to quiet down and go to sleep."

For a 4-year-old, these little threats always work wonders. With Christmas gone, it's back to square one.

But now, with a party invitation in hand -- and a costume party to boot -- I eagerly employed my new-found power.

"If you want to go to the birthday party, then you need to go make your bed."

"OK, Mommy," as they hurry to their rooms.

And so with the invitation also came two weeks of anticipation and questions.

"Mommy, is today the birthday party?"

"Mommy, can I wear the Spiderman costume?"

"Mommy, can we wrap the present yet?"

And when the day came, I've never seen two kids more excited -- costumes and bouncy houses and cookies and cake. Despite the coolish weather and the sniffly noses, they oozed with delight in their Spiderman and ballerina costumes and so excited as together they held the gift to give to their friend.

My two youngest doing what little ones do best -- laughter, excitement, smiles, and sweetness.

"Mommy, this is going to be SO fun," Allie squealed.

"Yes, sweetie, it's ALL so fun."

London Bridge is Falling Down

First things first ...

Our excitement over the weekend was -- grandparents, don't panic, everyone is fine -- Allie's trip to the Emergency Room.

We had a restaurant gift card stuck to the refrigerator, teasing and taunting us, so Saturday night we packed up the kids and headed to Scottsdale for dinner at Maggiano's. We had a great evening, which for us means the kids were well-behaved. No slinging meatballs or forks at each other. No simmering pre-pubescent attitude. No pre-school outbursts. No wine spills. And all four kids LOVED their dinner -- a rare feat.

So driving home Zach and Allie, still on their pizza bread and pasta high, start belting out "London Bridge is Falling Down."

Part way through the song they decide to hold hands as they sat side-by-side in their vehicle booster seats.

"London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down."

Hands latched, the arms start swinging.

"London Bridge is falling down, my fair lady."

Squeals and giggles burst forth as the arm-swinging develops a little more motion.

"Take a key and lock her up," Zach is really getting into it now as his voice overpowers Allie's and he starts to add a bit of pull to his arm swing, which I notice as I turn back to steal a glance of this sweet moment.

"Lock her up, lock her up."

And then this is about where the singing stops and the blood-curdling screaming starts.

"My arm HURRRRTS," Allie bellows.

She is crying and screaming and has that puckered-up wounded face, which I seldom see on her. Like most moms, I've learned to distinguish cries. This wasn't a trying-to-get-attention cry, or a I'm-mad-at-my-brother cry, or this-hurts-a-little-bit cry. This was one of those rare I'm-in-major-pain cries.

We ask Allie to lift her hand.

"I can't move, move, move my arm." Allie stutters and sobs.

"OK, sweetie, try to squeeze my finger," I try.

Next comes a blood-curdling cry.

"It HURTS."

Brett and I look at each other. The last time we had to send a child to the emergency room was when Nick was a year old and broke his leg (another story for another time). I was there with him on a Friday night, just a few days before Christmas, for 8 hours.

Meanwhile, when we got home it didn't get any better. We gave her some Tylenol and an ice pack. Nope. More screams and cries.

Then Brett and Allie headed to the emergency room. As the boys and I sat and watched the Arizona Cardinals demolish the Panthers, I asked a forlorn Zach (he hates to see Allie in any discomfort; he really just got carried away) to show me how he grabbed Allie's hand. Demonstrating with my hand, he said that he grabbed her wrist with both of his hands and PULLED. Hmmm.

Miraculously, or maybe that's just how it is here, who knows, they got in within an hour.

We called and Allie seemed to be in much better spirits. She wanted to talk to me and Zach on the phone.

They talked and laughed. Zach was really busting a gut, it was just too cute. They were chit-chatting away then Brett gets on the phone, laughs, and tells me Allie was holding the phone with her "injured" hand.

And sure enough, the x-ray confirmed that all was well.

Twin Talk: Zach and Allie-isms

Back when Zach and Allie were crawlers and droolers, they often babbled to each other in their own little language. I always knew I had a good 15 or 20 minutes until I had to pluck them from their cribs and begin our day together because they always had their little morning conversation -- their own private ritual. Perhaps they were debating the merits of rice cereal vs. oatmeal, or Pampers vs. Huggies, or maybe they were plotting to take their naps one after the other as they often did with Allie being the early napper and Zach preferring to hold off on his snooze -- rather than conveniently together -- to totally run Mommy ragged. I'm sure they got a good laugh out of that.

I didn't have a clue what they were saying, but they've always been good at holding each other's attention.

These days it's bedtime when they hold most of their in-depth conversations. They start talking about all kinds of things. It's really cute, actually. They discuss things that have happened, ask each other's opinion on things, and plan for the next day together. The most recent hot topics have included:

"Do you think Nicky's costume was scarwee?"

"Do you want to do Halloween again? ... It won't be until next year. Thanksgiving is next ... and then Cwismus."

"Who is more beautiful -- Snow White or Cinderelly?" .... that's Allie talking.

"Do you want to have waffles with me for bwekfast?"

"Should we watch Stuart Little tomowwoh?"

"How many animals are in your bed? Who's your faebrit? The blue bear matches my jammies."

"Do you need more water? I'll get you more water."

"Do you want to go to pweeschool tomorrow?"

And so it goes ...

And speaking of Zach and Allie and talking and conversations, it's so funny to hear little people saying bigger people's sayings.

Blake and Nick -- and even Brett for that matter -- often say "My bad" when they make a mistake of some kind. It seems like it usually involves sports. A bad toss of the football. "My bad."

Although she doesn't know she's doing anything out of the ordinary by saying it, she says it all the time. Casually. Matter-of-factly, without even thinking about it. But each time it's always so stinkin' cute and unexpected.

Sitting at the dinner table. Her pink Disney princess fork plummets to the floor.

"My bad," her little semi-squeaky, almost elf-like voice blurts out.

She squeezes too much toothpaste onto her toothbrush, leaving a blue blob on the counter and a frown on Mom's face.

"Oops ... my bad," she says without a second thought.

Me to Allie as she peeks out her bedroom door when she's supposed to be in bed: "Allie, it's bedtime. Get in bed."

Allie: "Sorreee, Mom. My bad."

Zach, always the one who steers Allie back on course, from his bed: "Allie, are you in twuble? Don't go out there ..."

"Zachy ... do you like (gym)nastics?"

This Was Halloween ...

Four days after Halloween and I'm finding way too many candy wrappers in the garbage can -- not to mention the rogue stragglers that pop up in places like the twins' play refrigerator, Nick's sock drawer, and Blake's soccer bag.

The kids are suffering from myriad post-Halloween symptoms: Allie's sad because there are no more "pink candies" in her bright orange plastic pumpkin bucket. The most frequent words from Zach's mouth are "just one more" -- as in just one more piece of candy -- and the first thing Nick does when he comes home from school is head toward his stash and laments the fact that the chocolates are in short supply (hey - don't look at me ;).

One of our jack-o-lanterns. Half of us had been sick the week leading up to Halloween, so we were scrambling at the last minute -- I know, that's normal ... but even more than usual. We were carving pumpkins at 4:00 on Halloween.

I remember enjoying Halloween as a kid, but my kids are tried and true Halloween fanatics.

Before setting out to trick or treat, they scarfed down their pizza -- a Halloween ritual around here -- then, between bouncing off walls, fixing and re-fixing the spider web junk outside, and putting up with mom and her picture-taking, repeatedly asked if they could start their candy-collecting venture.

"Not until it's dark," I told them.

As soon as the night sky signaled the first hint of gray, they asked again.

"Can we go now??"

"It's not dark yet guys," trying to keep the reins in place for just a few more minutes in my futile attempt to delay the inevitable madness.

I think the kids have more patience on Christmas morning waiting to tear open the gifts until everyone wakes than they do waiting for darkness to set to begin the Halloween quest for candy.

Zach patiently waits to being trick-or-treating as he checks out the poor deformed kitty cat with missing whiskers and a weird eye.

Allie and this ghostly creature seeing eye to eye.

And as soon as blackness filled the air, and I gave them the nod, they were off ...

Some other Halloween highlights:

• The week had been unseasonably warm. So, being Phoenix, that's a double whammy. It had been in the 90s all week. I don't know if I'll ever get used to taking the kids trick-or-treating wearing shorts and flip-flops.
  
• Another Arizona thing -- because the weather is so nice, many candy-givers enjoy the evening by sitting out on the front porch or in the driveway. Kids don't even have to knock on the door.
  
• Our street and the next street over really get into the spirit with the decorations. Big time. Throughout the month, we've taken many walks past the festive houses and whenever we drive to/from home, it's always understood that I'll slow down so Zach and Allie can admire the neighborhood decor.
• On Halloween night a couple of the neighborhood houses have drapery-style entrances with who-knows-what awaiting you inside. With screams and scary Halloween music in the air, Zach decided to brave that one, but Allie stayed on the street with Dad, firmly clutching his hand.
• Quite a few female trick-or-treaters -- about 11 or 12 years old -- asking me, "Does Blake live here?" Hmmm ...
• Zach getting so upset to take down the Halloween decorations. We did hold out an extra day so he could enjoy them just a little bit longer. But I'm so glad to get rid of that spider web stuff. Yuck!

Snow White and Zach Sparrow under an Arizona Halloween sky.

My Kids and Their Crazy Bedtime Rituals

It's the time of day that most of us parents greet triumphantly: the kids' bedtime. Brett and I are no exception.

With four kids there are two bedtimes. The twins usually hit the sack at about 7:45 and Blake and Nick stay up an extra hour.

Blake and Nick, for the most part, pass the normal test when it comes to bedtime routine ... well there's Nick's sleepwalking, but we'll let that slide since it hasn't happened in a couple weeks. For them it's brush teeth, go to the bathroom, Blake will read in bed with his booklight, and then off to catch some Z's.

Zach and Allie, on the other hand, are in a crazy, let's-make-Mom-and-Dad-run-circles-around- us world of their own. Sometimes I wonder if there's a camera hidden in the room a la Candid Camera.

So this is the world we've been living in when bedtime comes around ... They go potty. Normal enough. Then it's storytime. But wait, it has to be done Zach-and-Allie-style. For starters, they can never agree on one book, so they each pick one. Allie wants all the lights turned out and her book read by the light of Blake's awesome booklight. But that's not all ... Mom or Dad or whoever's reading the story can't just clip the light on the book. Allie MUST hold the light, leading to frustration for the reader when that darn little light doesn't stay shining on the words (it's just 10 more minutes, we tell ourselves, then the rest of the evening is OURS).

Zach then wants his story read the old-fashioned way -- sitting on his bed with the lights on. That's my boy! He loves "Goodnight, Gorilla."

So then it's hugs and kisses, a drink of water, and ice packs. Yes, ice packs. I think the seeds of this were planted a couple months ago when Zach had an "owie" at bedtime. He had asked for an ice pack. Somehow that stuck because night after night he would ask for it. Then as any dutiful sibling would, Allie started asking for one, too.

So when it's bedtime, we gather up the books, the booklight, the cup of water and the ice packs (and I have to give Brett most of the credit for this because he does most of it).

Then they're all tucked in for the night. Or are they?

These two 4-year-olds are brilliant strategists. They know they have us. They know they're now big kids wearing underwear to bed. They know we don't want to get up in the middle of the night to change wet sheets and pajamas. They know we'll do whatever we can to prevent a nighttime accident. They know they can prolong it for a few more minutes.

So this is what we hear about 5 minutes after leaving their room as we dare to envision relaxing for a couple hours before our own bedtime:

"Mommy, I have to go potty again." And, of course, a little shadow is following. "Me, too."

Calgon, take me away ...

A Day at the Zoo

Something happens when you have four kids who are spaced out over seven years.

One day you wake up and realize family outings are getting increasingly difficult. Specifically, it's a challenge to please everybody. You have to catch Blake, now creeping up on 12, in a good mood or bribe him with food or treats of some kind. Catch him on a bad day and he'll moan and groan the whole trip.

And, as I'm sure is the case in most families, Child #2 tends to grow up a little faster than Child #1. Child # 1 might have enjoyed things like the zoo until age 8, 9, or 10. But Child #2, seeing that his older sibling objects, must mimic that sentiment. Such is the case in our household.


Here's Blake earlier this year on the carousel at the zoo. Clearly, he's thrilled.

So, I've given up taking Blake and Nick to the zoo.

Having four kids, one of whom is entering pre-pubescence and another who so desperately wants to follow him there, also makes you realize how quickly the innocence and wonderment of childhood zooms right past you. And that's what's kicking me in the pants to make sure I appreciate and enjoy the little things, like taking Zach and Allie to the zoo and watching their excitement in petting the goats, feeding the giraffes ... using the public bathroom.

A couple weeks ago when my parents were here we took a trip out to an area wildlife zoo. It was a little toasty, but the place was deserted. We had it all to ourselves.

I watch and wonder how much longer my Zach and Allie will excitedly feed quarter after quarter into the rundown bubblegum machine that spits out stinky animal food into their little hands so they can dispense it to the ducks and fish and ostriches and whatever other animal is lucky enough to be in their path.

How much longer they will run from one exhibit to the next, squealing, "Look at him, Mommy. He's cuuute!"

How much longer until my two youngest don't want to go to the zoo anymore?

I'll push it out of mind. I can't think about that now ... we're going to the park (OK ... maybe not at this moment ... but it sounded like a good way to end it) :).

From the Mouths of Babes ...

On the way to Zach and Allie's gymnastics class recently. Scrambling to get sandals on and out the door.

Me: "Ok guys, let's go potty before we go."

Zach obediently darts into the bathroom. Allie remains on the floor, sandals on the wrong feet, her dalmatian Webkinz in hand, ready to accompany us on the 5-minute journey to the Little Gym.

Me: "Come on sweetie. You, too. Let's go potty."

Allie, in her most exasperated, matter-of-fact voice, enunciating clearly so she's sure I get it: "Mommmmyyyyyy ... I went potty yes-turrr-day."

2020 Olympics, Here We Come!

Zach and Allie are into their third week of gymnastics. They absolutely love it. They get to gracefully walk the balance beam, flip around on the single bar, climb like a bear on the parallel bars and master some cool tumbling moves. Here they are in action as they conquer the balance beam.

Babies No More -- Zach and Allie Turn 4

Allie and Zach
August 14, 2004

"You say it's your birthday ... It's my birthday, too."

Zach and Allie turn 4 today. Seems like just yesterday the blurriness of day and night, the unbelievable sleeplessness, the never-ending feedings and those tiny little 5-pound babies -- one of whom had a high-pitched cry, earning her the nickname of "Allie Cat" -- turned our lives upside-down.

Zach and Allie came at the onset of the 2004 Summer Olympics. On Aug. 13, 2004, Brett and I watched the Opening ceremonies of the Athens games. We called it a night around 10:30 or 11 as the ceremonial hoopla seemed to rage on with no end in sight. Several hours later, at about 2 a.m., I felt a pint-sized gymnast and a mini-swimmer doing cartwheels and butterfly strokes inside my belly. Then, without warning, they turned into boxers -- jabbing and punching unmercifully. Time to go to the hospital.

On Aug. 14, they arrived. First Zach at 10:14 am. Then Allie at 10:39. By the way, Nick was an Olympic baby, too. He arrived on Day 3 of the Sydney Summer Olympics in 2000. And actually, I was pregnant with Blake during the 1996 Summer games. Brett loved that his paternity leave was during the Olympics. And it came in pretty handy with those middle-of-the-night feedings. I could feed the babies and catch up on all the oh-so-exciting equestrian, water polo and ping-pong events reserved for the nightowls.

But back to Zach and Allie. How quickly they've turned into little people who chase butterflies, dress up as pirates and princesses, color "beautiful" pictures, play hide and seek, fight with their siblings and all the other things 4-year-olds are known for.

A part of me is sad the baby stage is slowly coming to an end. I still feel a little tug inside when I walk down the baby food aisle at the grocery store or see a little infant cooing in her mother's arms. But another part of me is eager for the beginning of this next chapter. It's finally feeling like that crazy upside-down feeling is gradually easing its way right-side up. Just in time for Blake hitting puberty ...

Happy Birthday, Zach and Allie!

Zach and Allie -- Almost 4

Zach and Allie -- 3rd Birthday

Zach and Allie -- 2nd Birthday

Zach and Allie -- 1st Birthday

Top 10 Things I Hear When I'm With the Twins

If there's one thing I've learned since Zach and Allie were born 3 1/2 years ago, it's that people are fascinated with twins. And who can blame them? I've always thought they were interesting, too. While it doesn't happen as much now that they're older and are often running in opposite directions when we're somewhere like the park or library, I've been frequently peppered with questions and comments over the years.

Here are some of the most common:

1. "Oh, a boy and a girl. How perfect. You got it all done at once." I hear this a lot. Obviously it's during the day while Blake and Nick are at school. Oftentimes I'll tell the unassuming comment-maker, "Actually I have two older boys." Usually eyes will grow wide open and a "Wow!" or "You've got your hands full" will spill forth.
2. "Are they twins?" Yep. "Oh, they look so much alike." Really?? I still don't think so. Similar, I guess, but just like any brother and sister.
   
3. "Do twins run in your family?" Surprisingly, a lot of people ask me this. I guess the reason I say it surprises me is that nowadays most twins are the result of infertility treatments (not in our case). Maybe that's only common knowledge to us living in the multiples world. Regardless, my latest answer to the question is "They do now."
4. "Were they a surprise?" Yep!
   
5. "Who was born first?" People want to know this ... and quite frequently. For the record, Zach was born at 10:25 a.m. and Allie at 10:39 a.m. (I think that's right). If you know their personalities, you'd think that in-charge Allie would have been born first. But as I think about it more, it does reflect their personalities. Zach is so protective of Allie that he wanted to go out into the world and check things out before he gave her the "OK" to make her appearance.
6. From other moms of twins. "I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but it doesn't." Oh ... thanks for the encouragement. Unfortunately, I'm realizing this as each year passes. But isn't this the case with raising any child ... not just twins? The temper tantrums end and the back-talking begins. A few years after toilet training frustrations are at the forefront, the discussion over how far away from home they can ride their bike takes center stage. Getting your pre-schooler to eat his (or her) dinner is soon replaced with getting them to do their homework. The list goes on ... with twins it's double the drama.
   
7. "Oh, you're so lucky. I've always wanted twins." Yes, we are very lucky, fortunate, blessed to have Zach and Allie (and Blake and Nicky). But honestly, raising two children who are different ages is easier than raising two the same age, in my opinion. If nothing else, it's really hard to find one-on-one time with each (especially when you have two other children, too).
   
8. "Are they identical?" No, boy/girl twins are fraternal.
   
9. "They're so cute." Yep. But, just like any other child, sometimes they're not. You should have seen Allie when she poured bright blue craft paint all over her beige carpet -- adorable! Or when we're at the grocery store and they fight over who gets to hold the box of Life cereal. Charming.
   
10. "Are they best friends?" Yes, and much more. One of the most special things about having twins is watching their special bond grow. 80 percent of the time they get along great. They're very protective of each other and if the other isn't in sight, they always ask "Where's Zachy?" or "Where's Allie?" Sometimes they get into nasty fights, usually battling for a toy or who gets to do something -- normal sibling stuff. But sometimes they remind me of an old married couple, who bicker about the little things. "Allie, don't push the car that way, do it this way." And, for better or worse, they feed off of each other. If one has a laughing fit, the other starts and it just gets crazier from there. Or it could be a tantrum ... or running around the house ... or wanting to help me cook. Everything is times two (and sometimes times four) around here.
    

"There are two things in life for which
we are never truly prepared: Twins."
~ Humorist Josh Billings