It's Working.

I am not perfectly good at all the stuff I am constantly advocating for—mindful, positive parenting, being patient with my toddlers' dawdling, not getting upset when they do something I think is wrong, like hit each other. But I practice and practice and practice (thankfully we have a lot of chances to practice around here!).

This is something I say over and over: "You're disappointed/frustrated/upset. It's ok to let your feelings out. When you're done, we can talk about it. I'm right here. I will listen to you."

We've been struggling with naps for about 8 months now. Nick needs a nap; Dash sometimes doesn't—he tells me he's "having a hard time sleeping" and refuses to lie down, much less sleep. One of the pieces of advice we've gotten is that when the nap doesn't happen (or even if the kid in question doesn't hold the "quiet time" quietly), whatever outing we were planning on after nap can't happen. This is partly because the non-napper inevitably falls asleep in the car, thus creating havoc at bedtime and making for a very cranky kid when I wake him up after a 5-minute snooze. So we mostly stay at home or just go places where we can walk on days when naps don't happen.

What gets us through no-nap time? Smoothie and markers for D, coffee for me.

The other day, we were planning to go to the library after nap. I told Dash that if he didn't nap, we wouldn't be able to go because he'd fall asleep in the car and would be too cranky. He didn't nap. When Nick woke up from his nap, Dash asked if we were going to the library. Of course, I said, "no, you didn't nap." And he was furious. But I held the line, listened to his feelings, gave him space. He likes to stomp off into another room and cry in there; after months of trying to get him to let me hold him, I've learned to just go check in on him periodically. So I let him do his thing for a while. And then I checked in with him. He wasn't ready to talk. I checked in again. He said, "I'm crying right now." I checked in again. This time, our conversation went like this:

Me: How are you feeling now, Dashie?
Dash: I'm all done crying now. We didn't go to the library because I didn't nap.
Me: You feel better now?
Dash: Yes.
Me: We'll go to the library tomorrow.
Dash: Ye-eah! I want to play with trucks now!

It is so hard to listen to our kids cry when they don't get what they want. It is so worth it.

And yes, we went to the library the next day.

Rituals

People have been writing about how family dinners are Very Important for quite a while. And lots of my friends have family meals every night with their kids. I'm sure we will one day, too.

But for now, our dinners at home go something like this:

Offspring 1: I don't *like* this soup.

Me: You don't have to eat it. You can eat your bread.

Offspring 2: I don't *like* bread.

Offspring 2: [makes gagging noises]

Me: Can you just chew it up? I don't want you to spit it in my hand.

Offspring 1: I'm all done!

Me [after consuming a total of three bites of food]: Ok, let's wash your hands!

Sigh. Our dinners out are much better; our kids have always enjoyed restaurants in moderation and only rarely have we wished we hadn't gone out to eat. But at home, none of us are quite so patient.

So no family dinners yet; the fellas eat at their little table, usually with several trucks. We often eat with them, but aren't trying to have a proper meal. 

Anyway, this isn't really a post about dinner. It's about what we do to connect instead of having family dinner for now. As most of you know, practicing gratitude is really good for kids (and adults), just like family dinners are. 

Back in December, our kids brought home these groovy, gnomy gifts for us from school:

We decided to light the candles after dinner, before bedtime. And we just never stopped. On the second night, we started asking, in the manner of Rabbit's Bedtime, "What was good about your day?" We all go around, each taking turns. The boys sometimes remember to ask each of us or each other and sometimes ask themselves. If they don't remember, then we ask.

And now Candle Time is sacred. I can't imagine a night without it. We offer some bedtime snacks (usually fruit and cheese), and sit around all enjoying each other's company. No one is fighting. No one is doing something else. We're just listening and hanging out. 

Here's a list of some things my kids have been grateful for over the last few days:

one time, I picked up this orange digger and digged in the snow.
I played with Dashie.
Daddy took me park.
Mommy, you came and picked me up after nap I was sad at naptime said where's my mommy and then you picked me up after nap.
We went out to dinner! and had burgers!
[in late December] We woke up and the stockings were ALL FULL!
[after a particularly tough day] I don't have anything.

I love hearing what they have to say. 

I love the neatness of the transition—we have to make the house relatively dark for the magic to take hold, and we just don't turn up the lights afterward. Everyone knows what comes next. 

We blow out the candle and do a little chant, raising one arm with the smoke: Up. Up! UP! WAY UP there!!

And just like that, it's bedtime. And that's its own set of rituals, equally sacred. 

What We've Been Up To

I'm still here. Still in one piece. We've made it across the country. Sold our lovely home. Have had some long, long nights and lots of long days too. But it's getting better. And soon we'll be moving into what we hope will be our new home for a long, long time. More on that later.

The boys have started nursery at the same Waldorf school where I'm currently teaching. Their teacher mentioned at our parent-teacher conference that instead of doing sensory stuff for sensory's sake (while I'm doing something else, for example), we should be inviting the kids to participate more often in the life of the home. So I've been trying to break some habits I've held for a while—coping mechanisms, really. Giving the guys something to do while I cook, or cooking only when they're asleep or out of the house is just easier. But it doesn't teach them where food comes from, or how to make their own lunches.

Cutting grapes for that day's school lunch.

I still like giving the guys "non-productive" sensory activities during free play time at home because I know that all play is work for them. But I'm starting to build in some practical play in the hope of letting our life flow more evenly with the life they live at school.

So this is how we Waldorfed today:

I couldn't get a photo of them mixing the batter with their hands, but here is the mess we made. I measured the flour and baking powder and salt into two bowls, which they combined with buttermilk and lard in a big bowl. 

Then we took the dough and kneaded it and broke it into smaller pieces.

The final product: I helped make them a bit more uniform in size, but the fellas did most of this work themselves. While the biscuits baked, I cleaned the kitchen and the boys helped their dad do laundry. 

Snack: hard-boiled eggs, some leftover broth, and biscuits!

Then we went outside to rake pine straw in the yard. We raked and put the straw into compost bins for about an hour before the guys moved on to another activity (bubbles for a few minutes, then riding their balance bikes). All that time, I was active, too, enjoying the crisp fall air, the gentle exercise, the feeling of accomplishment. As much as I love going to a park and hanging out with a friend, the truth is that park outings are pretty sedentary for adults with older toddlers. I can sit back or walk slowly with them. This way of being with my kids makes me participate more fully in life, too. No checking out with my iPhone. Just feeling the air, being in the sun, doing good work.

It's a big yard.

Taking a break.

After a bit of a break, we came back to the raking and finished what we'd started. The yard is lovely now. It is much, much harder to work with toddlers helping. Their internal pace is different. Their breaks involved wrestling and getting out other toys and digging in the dirt.

I don't think that I would have let them into the kitchen before now—maybe one kid, but not twins. But now they can hold a knife, can follow complex directions, can mostly listen when I ask them not to dump the flour on the floor. They're learning what all the phases of a project in the home are: starting out, cleaning up, enjoying the fruits of their labors. After we finished our work and play in the yard, we came in and they made themselves sandwiches (ok, I helped, but they held the butter knives with me and spread all the nut butter and jelly). On days like today, I see how confident they are when they do things (mostly) themselves, and how pleased they are to take full part in all the chores we're doing. This is good practice for me, too: I can watch how they engage with the tasks we're undertaking—one left a lot more flour on the floor than the other; one needed to change focus more often. I get to work on my patience and let go of perfectionism. 

It's a pretty good life.

Play 'Gether

This post is for the parents of multiples whose kids are still under two. This is for the mom who sent this link to the twins club. Excerpt:

Things will never get back to “normal”—as you defined normal when you were single—when you were childless. Never.

This is true. We're deluding ourselves if we think that we can add any other human being to our family lives and still be the same person, the same normal that we were before. Never mind adding two at once! The thing to do, then, is to focus not on how you've lost your true self, but to see what's still the same, what's left at the core. And to nurture that. So maybe you don't go to yoga five days a week anymore. Maybe you have to redefine what "doing yoga" means—a deep breath is yoga.

But I digress. Let us back on track:

It changes. You get better. You grow. Learn. And that little squealer—that awesome toddler—that slightly evil three-year-old—he grows. Learns. Changes. It gets better. When you learn and change and grow and all that—it all gets better.

It does get better: now when the boys are fighting over a toy, I often hear one of them declare "play 'gether!" And they do.

This is what change, what better looks like: I spent an hour bored on the couch while my boys played a trashcan game. Pictured above: clearing out the bins in order to dump more trash.

More better: An outing to the park during which I spent 40 minutes "punching tickets" with my phone while the boys went for a "train ride."

This is a train. I believe they're dismounting...

D is collecting more tickets to punch. N seems to be meditating.

Not everything is photo-worthy, but also nice are the small daily kindnesses I see these two bestow on each other. Almost every skirmish over a toy ends with a "Here, Dashie!" or "Nicky's turn!"—unprompted by me. The ones that don't end that way end with words like "Dashie sad. Dashie cry." (often followed by "Here, Dashie!").

Most better: I was too tired to carry anyone from car to house, so I suggested that they find another way. Dash tried to get Nick to pick him up; Nick had a different idea.

Good idea, Nick!

How can we make holding hands even more fun?

Well, we could climb stairs while holding hands.

Almost two-and-a-half is tiring and frustrating in many, many ways. But it's still much easier than  juggling two newborns.

My Two Are Two!

Today, my boys turn two. They walk, talk, run, wrestle, snuggle, giggle, make up games, dance, and play music. They love trains, anything with wheels, and anything round. They love each other.

Wonder. 

We hear things around the house: "One, two, nine, nine." "I dunnooo! Crocodile!" There is a running commentary on everything around them as we walk, drive, stroller around town: "two blue car!" "cement mixer! loud!". It is always at high volume, shouted in case we can't hear. Or maybe it's shouted from excitement. If the first year of having twins is about survival, the theme of the second year seems to have been wonder and delight. I am amazed every single day by their persistence, creativity, and curiosity.

These are "lawnmowers," also known as leaf blowers. The sunglasses are sometimes optional. The sound effects are not.

This year, I've had to keep relearning that my agenda means little, whether it's my plan to grade papers during a nap or my hope to get out of the house quickly after a nap. I've had to learn how to help resolve conflicts without over-interfering, and I'm learning techniques for connecting with both kids simultaneously to ward off a post-nap tantrum—and my agenda then begins to be achievable. I've had to learn how to say "I'm overwhelmed, and I'm taking a break" both to my kids and to myself. I've learned more about the beauty of repetition, the importance of routine, the freedom to be found in limits.

Yes, he knows where the edge is. No, he's never fallen off.

Every parent has to learn these things. With twins, that learning comes fast and furious. I have two amazing, adorable, enthusiastic teachers.

Here's to another year of learning!

Being, at the park.

You've found the perfect park for your outing with twins. You have your bag packed with diapers, snacks, shoes, drinks, and a well-charged smartphone for snapping pics of your adorable offspring. You will *only* use your phone for occasional photos and checking the time. (See this New Yorker piece for an eloquent argument against even snapping photos) The rest of the time it stays in your bag. 

You have spare clothes if you're going somewhere you're likely to need them. You have jackets if it's going to be cold. You have sand toys for sand parks, and extra balls just in case. And you know that the park is going to be an easy place to keep track of your kids.

Friends are good, too—I try to meet up with one or two other moms a few times a week, especially other moms of twins. Being at the park with other people who know you and know your kids means that you have an extra set of eyes and ears. And there are likely to be fewer conflicts (in my experience, at least) because the kids know each other. After months of seeing the same people, the boys look forward to seeing their friends—and I look forward to seeing mine!

Sharing a snack with good friends

Even with all that, you need to bring a few more things: for starters, trust and patience. 


Trust is about believing that your children have their own interests and their own agendas. Do they want to go up the stairs? Great! Do they want to spend 30 minutes pushing a truck around? Great! Maybe they're into pouring sand. Maybe they don't want to use the shovel the way that you think they should use the shovel—that's ok, too. Don't force them to do what you think they should do—free, unstructured play is children's work. Just because you think your kid wants to swing or slide doesn't mean s/he wants to. Lots of times, kids like to climb the stairs to the slide, but not slide down. That's ok, too. They're working on climbing and enjoying feeling up high. When they want to come down, they'll figure out how. Your job at the park is to reinforce the boundaries that do matter: no hitting, biting, pushing. Use words to describe what happens when conflicts seem to be mounting; offer other choices when conflicts escalate. Acknowledge the problem, then see if your kids can come up with a solution.

11 months old, enjoying some stair play. Notice that they are in charge of how high, how fast, and how they go up.

I love this paragraph from Lisa Sunbury about play:

So what is your role as a parent or teacher of young children? The idea is for the adult to create an environment that invites play and then allow the child to explore and experiment within that environment to his heart’s content, without showing him how it’s supposed to be done. This leaves your child in control, and preserves his natural, inborn desire and ability (intrinsic motivation- from within) to play. When your child plays, he is not only learning, he is learning how to learn!

So trust your kids to find interesting things to do and see and explore. Trust them to know the limits of what their bodies can do. And trust that they will push those limits, too. You'll be there to catch them; you won't be holding their shirt while they walk and constantly telling them to be careful.


Janet Lansbury says it best:

The key to fostering an “I can” mentality is simple… Accept, appreciate and allow whatever children are able to do in that moment, rather than expecting or encouraging them to do more.

Patience: You have to learn to be patient with yourself, to let yourself sit back and watch. It's hard to do when you have two toddlers running in opposite directions. I've found that I'm most able to sit back and watch if they're running on the ground. Up high is hard. You want to help. I try to just stand close then, not interfere too much. My boys know that I trust them to know their limits, and usually, they're right. It's almost always when I second-guess them or try to "help" that they seem to falter and get frustrated. So, I try to remind myself to wait, wait, wait before stepping in. I don't always wait long enough, and I really don't wait long enough when I'm nervous or distracted. But doing this stuff is a practice. It takes time. It's really, really hard not to explain why they fell, when they do fall. My personal resolution is to do a better job of asking questions like "Would you like to try that again?" It's so easy to want to protect and direct. What you have to to is help them persist and discover. 

Yes, even 18-month-olds can share...if you let them work it out and don't yell at them to share.

And that's the thing about babies and toddlers: they take lots of time to do things. A four-block walk can take an hour. You can't have an agenda; if you do, you'll be frustrated. If you have plans, you have to be ready to listen to some complaints as you attend to the business of getting there. Plan to hear some crying, some screaming, plan that you might have to be firm about getting in the car, changing diapers, whatever. This is part of living with children. We adults are thinking five steps ahead. They're thinking about now. Slow down, take a look from their perspective. Part of many of our park outings these days is the walk to the park from our car. This can take up to twenty minutes. And that's fine.

Sometimes we stop to check out holiday lights. 

Here's what you really need to know about being at the park: it's about being, at the park. Take the time to watch your kids explore and learn. Follow their lead. Your job is to get them outside. Let them show you the rest.

How to entertain two toddlers.

Step 1: Acquire beans. Put them in one or two large, clear plastic tubs. Provide measuring cups and smaller containers. Put the whole collection on a blanket or sheet.

Step 2: Place toddlers in front of beans.

Step 3: Relax! Take some pictures. Check your email. Make dinner. 

Five to twenty minutes of independent toddler play, guaranteed. Bliss. Love this idea? Check out Creative With Kids for more!

Twice a Day.

Or: How to take twins to the park when you're outnumbered.

Kids need to be outside. For my kids, pretty much any kind of outside will do.

From a walk down the street...

...to hike in the woods.

On the other hand, I find it hard to constantly split my attention between them, to grab one or put one down to attend to the other, to badger one to keep up with the other who is sprinting ahead. In a couple more years, they'll understand things like holding hands and sticking together. But for now, they move at very different paces and have very different interests. So while a walk down the street might be fine on occasion, we mostly go to parks to get our outside fix. We go in almost any weather—if it's just sprinkling, we go. If it's cold, we all bundle up. If it's hot, we find a shady park with an easily-accessed water fountain.

Sometimes we go in the stroller, sometimes we take the car.

I find myself writing the same email about these outings to the members of the parents of multiples club I belong to. So I thought I'd rehash those points yet again, with pictures to help illustrate my points

When your twins are small, and not yet crawling, you can go anywhere that's pleasant, preferably a grassy spot with fresh air, some shade, and nice views for you to enjoy. Take some friends. Bring a big blanket. Watch how the babies engage with their environment. Don't rush to sit them up and make them look around at what you're interested in—Nick spent *months* on his back kicking with glee at the clouds and the trees. 

The same place can be good once they start crawling and sitting up, though once both are crawling you're better off looking toward the next stage: two babies on the move. Both of our boys were crawling by around 10 months. And for a while, we kept going to all kinds of parks. Then Dash started walking, and suddenly, being at a park with a walking kid and a crawling kid got really, really hard—Dash would wander off toward the street, while Nick would cry because I had to leave him to run after Dash. Gradually, I learned what made for a safe, happy experience for us all. Of course, once Nick started walking, things got even more split. Thankfully, by then I'd figured out what good parks were for us.

Here are the things I've figured out are important to a pleasant park outing with twin toddlers:

1. Gates. 

Our neighborhood park has gates that don't latch, but it's big enough that the boys rarely want to leave. The gates serve as a visual boundary. At 15 months (and probably before!), both boys knew the difference between in the park and out of the park.

Also, the park has dirt. Very important stuff to have around.

If they do leave, we go get the stroller and head home. But usually gates keep them from venturing out, even if they know how to open the gate.

I know it looks like he's escaping. But he actually closed the gate when I said it wasn't time to go yet.

2. Good lines of sight throughout the park. Sometimes you won't be able to see a kid because he's behind a play structure. But in general, you should be able to spot both kids from wherever you are. Lots of green space is helpful for this—plus it provides plenty of opportunities for engaging with the natural world.

The photo below is NOT a good place to take twins by yourself—the much-beloved Totland Park in North Berkeley. People love this park because there are a ton of toys. I find it incredibly overwhelming on my own. With a partner, not a problem. Here's why: Nick is in the foreground, drinking water. Dash is invisible in this picture. I can see him on the far side of the ramp to the play structure, digging with a yellow truck in the sand. But if he were on the other side of the slide, or at the top of the structure, I wouldn't be able to see him at all.

Can you spot Dash?

There's just too much going on for this to be fun for me. Maybe when they're older, I'll enjoy it more. But fortunately, there are lots of other great parks, most of them closer to my house.

For example, the park below: With a small structure, low tables, and plenty of space (and not a huge crowd!), Bateman Park is a much easier place to manage solo. There are hazards, if you don't want your kids to get wet or sandy, but for the most part, it's easy to redirect them from stuff you don't want them getting into. And with fewer kids around, there are fewer conflicts over toys, space, etc.

The rest of the park is mostly grass—great for a blanket for pre-crawlers, but also great for tossing balls and pushing toys.

Here's another of my favorite parks—mostly good sightlines, totally fenced in, lots of room for the boys to explore.

And a rainbow!

I love that this park is hidden in a city block. There's green space, lots of room for wandering, enough stuff to climb, and no crowd. I often meet up with a friend or two so that it doesn't feel lonely. Same park, different angle:

A third example of good sightlines: San Pablo Park in South Berkeley is my absolute favorite park (except for hot days). Lots of very clean sand (a rarity), two great play structures (see below for one of them; the City of Berkeley link above has a really great photo of the whole park), and swings! We can spend 2+ hours here without the boys getting bored.

Taken from next to the swing. I think Nick is in the swing.

3. Good play structures. I don't necessarily mean low, over-safe play structures. I mean equipment that's easy to look around, under and through so you can see your kid. Ideally, there are only one or two big drops, so that you only have to watch one spot for dangerous falls (my kids have fallen off the lower sides of play structures, but never from terribly high). In the best of playgrounds, you can easily scoot under or around a structure to go from the kid trying to climb off the high edge to the kid fighting another kid over a toy. The structure below is on the small side, but is fantastic for crawlers to preschoolers. My guys got really goot at stairs on this structure, well before they were walking:

Easy to spot a kid on these stairs!

This is the one dangerous spot—but it's very narrow, has great places for kids to hang on, and is easy to reach if someone wants to get down and refuses the slide or stairs. Only one child can fit through the opening at a time, too.

This structure (below) is old, but great—only one dangerous edge (you're looking at it), and a tunnel on the other side that is lots of fun for twins in particular to play with.

The train at San Pablo park is a big favorite; while it's not exactly easy to sprint from one side to the other, a fall from most parts of it is harmless, if upsetting—they land in the sand.

Those are the basics in terms of choosing a physical location. To get your kids from your house into the park, you can choose any of a variety of methods. If I drive, I often use(d) a stroller to get from the car into the park itself—it can hold the diaper bag and the kids; if you're going to a park with sand but no toys, you'll want to pack sand toys as well). I've also put one child on my back in an Ergo carrier and let the other walk. These days, we mostly walk in because the boys really enjoy it. I suspect that with one child, I would almost never use a stroller to get from car to park, but I don't really know. I usually take a stroller to go to local parks too—again, my boys love to walk, but it's easier to pack them in the stroller for at least one direction of the trip.

Coming up: Part 2: How to enjoy the park once you're there. (What? You thought just getting to the park was enough? There's so much more!)