A Christmas Glimpse

Sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am.  When I stop and think about how blessed I am, I get a little teary.  Like a real live, misty eyed mush ball.

My boys are amazing.  And this Christmas was such a joy.

I feel like I could write for days to tell you about the bliss that is my family.  But I'll just share a few highlights from my Christmas in pictures....

Too tired to move.  Some days are like this. 

I....  can't....  move....  Too....  Tired....

New kitchen.  We LOVE to pretend with our food and utensils!!  

And our trains love the table too. 

We are dorks who bought each other matching watches without trying. 

Merry Christmas!!

Christmas cornrows

Christmas Eve Breakfast with some friends.

Mama and one of my handsome boys. 

Kyrie being naughty and acting like Ellie pug.  Don't worry!  There was nothing in the bowl and no "contact" made.

Opening presents. 

Boxes are more fun!

New Christmas hats :)  Silk lined to protect our handsome curls. 

Cute like daddy. 

Merry Christmas everyone!!

My Naughty Boy

My Kyrie is so naughty.

And I know it is David's fault because he wished for naughty children.

No, seriously.  He did.

As a teacher, he's always loved the naughty kids.  And honestly, I can't disagree because those are the ones your heart just reaches for.  And they're usually also very entertaining, and keep your wits about you.

So that is what he wished for, and so far, that is what he got :)  If you're reading this, I hope you know that when I describe my boys as naughty, I mean it only in the most endearing way.  They are amazing little boys, but they LOVE to do things they know they aren't supposed to.

For example, pulling plugs out of the wall.  Kyrie will wait for me to look at him, then pull it out and laugh.  Then I go tell him no in my "mommy means it" voice and redirect him.  As I'm distracting him from the plug, Kingston makes a beeline to pull it out himself.  Ahh, twins :)

Then there is the couch.  WHEN people, will my little ones be able to master the couch?

Kyrie likes to stand and jump on the couch.  Awesome.  Then I say, "No Kyrie!" and he drops to his belly and lays on the couch like an sweet, innocent little pumpkin.

Yes, I took a picture before telling him no....  what about it?

Look at the pure joy in his face :)

And now - the worst yet.

Our social worker came over to do our final 1 year meeting.  As we were sitting there talking, Kyrie started playing with our dog, Ellie.  He LOVES to play with her. He grabs her rope, and plays tug of war.  Its his favorite thing.

So while hes holding her rope, our social worker asks me about it.  "Does he ever put it in his mouth?" And I'm all, "Oh, no.  He totally knows which toys are hers, and brings them to her.  He never puts them in his mouth.  Never."

And like a beautifully choreographed dance, Kyrie puts the rope up to his mouth.

AAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!!

That. Is. My. Boy.

And I couldn't possibly love him more than I do this moment.

Blessed

Today I am feeling so very blessed.  Its a time of Thanksgiving, and my whole being is filled with thanksgiving and happiness.

I know, I know.  Its sounds cheesy already.  And it's going to be full of cheese and mushy gush.  But I'll be quick :)

Today I just feel ridiculously giddy and warm, and fuzzy.  I can't believe how lucky I am.  How blessed I am.

I have a beautiful home.  A job where I feel valued, and that I love.  A husband who supports me and goes out of his way to make me happy.  And the two most amazing children in the world.

None of which I deserve.

And so on this Sunday with my three boys, relaxing at home, still in our pajamas, I feel lucky.  Even though these two little pumpkins woke me up at the crack of dawn to snuggle on the couch and watch some Yo Gabba Gabba.

The flash is too bright mama! 

Because look at these crazy little men!  They LOVE to watch themselves on the iPhone.  I love to share how cute I think they are.

The Pumpkin Patch

Today was our first trip to the pumpkin patch, and it. was. awesome.

The boys had so much fun, and we did too.  We went on a hayride, picked out some pumpkins in a real live pumpkin patch, went through a baby corn maze, and ran wild like only Stefanich boys can do.  They also wooed the lady into a two for one deal for the hayride.  They just gave her a look and she was putty in their hands :)  I asked how much the hayride was, and she was like, "well, since they're identical, I'll give you a two for one deal."

I didn't want to hurt her feelings and tell her that they are not identical.

Plus also I didn't want to lose the deal :)

Daddy and Kingston

Mommy and Kyrie

Checking out the pumpkins

Hmm.  This one looks nice.  

Up close and Adorable.  

Daddy and the boys

Mommy and the boys.  But Kingston is so over the pictures. Also?  I can't see because of the sun.  

Baby Corn Maze.  Er, Hay Maze.  

Loving it. 

Oh, and there were toys. 

Have we talked about these ridiculously cute sweaters?

Hay Ride

We were there too

The Four of Us

The boys each picked out a pumpkin.  And by boys I mean David and I picked for them because they weren't as into the pumpkins as they were running wildly through the pumpkin patch.  Which is a success either way.   It was the perfect Fall weather, with perfect Fall sweaters.

These are the days dreams are made of.

A Day in the Life...

It began with a snack.  Because the way to their heart is always a snack.  I cut up a muffin into bite sized pieces, put it on a plate, and grabbed a fork.  Because they love to eat from a fork.

I sit on the couch forking muffin into their sweet mouths.  First one, then the other. And although they say some words, they communicate almost exclusively with a series of grunts and points.

Kingston grunts with his mouth wide open like a little bird nonstop until the muffin is gone.  Uh, uh, uh.... fork full.  Uh, uh, uh... fork full.  Uh, uh, uh... fork full.  I look down.  Ugh!  Be a good mom and pay attention!  Mouth is OVER full of muffin.  He can hardly shut his mouth.  Crumbs spilling everywhere, smiley wildly.

Kyrie sips water from his cup.  But he has figured out how to sort of flick the cup out of his mouth and spray water EVERYWHERE with every drink.  Sip.  Splash.  Fits of laughter.  Sip.  Splash.  Fits of laughter.

Kingston grabs legos.  One blue block and one blue thing with wheels.  Crashes them on the window sill.  Kyrie gets a gleam in his eye and runs to Kingston.  Takes both items.  Kingston screams and throws himself to the ground.  He is crying like the dickens.

"Kyrie.  Kingston was playing with those.  You need to give them back."

He runs with a giggle away from me and the screaming blur of limbs by the window.  As I follow him, and almost catch up, he doubles back and offers Kingston the blue block.

It's enough to melt my heart and stop the cries of his brother.

They are both content with legos for a moment, so I sneak to the kitchen and start washing potatoes.  Twenty seconds and 2 potatoes later, I feel a tug and hear, "aap... aap... aap..."  I scoop up Kyrie and continue washing potatoes as he leans into the running water shrieking.  His laughter is contagious and I'm splashing with him.

I then remember that I have two boys, and I cannot hear the other one.  Not a good sign.

As I walk to the living room I see Kingston with his ultimate find.  My cell phone.  Down goes Kyrie after him.  Kingston's pushing buttons and running away.  Watching me.  Slip.  Fall.  Cry.

I scoop him up and cradle him, sneaking the iPhone unsuccessfully away.  Cries somehow get louder.  Phone gets handed back to him.  Giggles escape his mouth.  Writhes free and runs away again.

"Kingston, bring it to mommy."

Backs into corner and looks to the ceiling.  He thinks I can't see him.  Because he's hiding.

"Kingston, bring it to mommy."

Up walks Kyrie.  Hand holding nothing, but pinched like he's holding something.  He brings me his imaginary nothing.  Places the nothing gently in my hand and smiles.

He's already figured out how to own me.

Kingston will not be outdone.  He runs to me, phone strategically behind himself in his hand.  He leads with his lips.  Puckered.

Lays one on me.  Wet.  Messy.  Perfect.

Kyrie gets the phone and screaming ensues.  I take the phone.  Put it on counter.

Surround sound screaming.

I sit.  Scoop up one boy.  Rock a bye... another backs his sweet little booty onto my lap.  Nudges his brother away.  The one in my arms twists out, even more mad.  I try holding one on each leg, one arm around each.  "Mommy has two boys.  We can share mommy."  They're not having it.  A leg pushes a thigh.  A stiff arm in the others' face.  A grunt.  A scream.  Hitting.  Rolling.  Trying to contain them both in my arms.  Trying to contain their cries.

UGH!

I see a bare foot and snag my out.

"Tickle, tickle."  (Giggles)  "Teek, teek, teek" in response.  Fingers attack sweet chubby feet and two boys are smiling once again.

I roll on my stomach and bury my face in my arms.  ((SIGH))

Mommy needs a minute.


But mommy is dreaming if she thinks that is happening.  One boy immediately crawls on my back.  I can hear his giggles and feel him trying to stand on my back.  Disaster waiting to happen.  Before I can pick my head up, another diapered bottom is sitting on it. Yes.  On my head.  I twist out of the jaws of doom and stand.

"aap... aap...  aap..."  Kyrie.

"uuh... uuh..."  Kingston.

I scoop them both up.

Clunk.  Ah.  The blue block is back.  Banging on my head.

Awesome.

Put him down.  Crying.  Take away block.  More crying.  Scoop back up.  Sigh.  We're good.

Two arms.  Two boys in them.

And two clean, raw potatoes for dinner.

He Speaks!

My boys are talking!!

Well, one of them is.  Kyrie is talking up a storm.  He's saying bye bye, dah dee, mu mu, ball, car, E-I-E-I and my personal favorite, up.  The best part about it is he says up in the HIGHEST voice ever.  Everything else is normal Kyrie voice, but up, is "UP" starting high, with a high inflection at the end.

I think its my fault.  While trying to teach him, I said it all the time in my high, mommy, sing songy voice.  And now he mimics it perfectly.  And now that he has really mastered it, its not up, but its "UP, UP, UP, UP, UP!".  Like "MOTHER!  PICK ME UP THIS INSTANT AND I WILL NOT STOP TELLING YOU TO PICK ME UP UNTIL YOU DO!!!"

Kingston, however, does not say words.  He talks NONSTOP, but no words yet.  Not exactly anyway.  He has occasionally said a random word here or there out of context when his brother is getting great praise for his talking.  So basically I know that he is capable, but he pretty much does things when he wants to do things.  And not one minute sooner.

I just can't even wait to hear all the things on their minds.   Can. Not. Wait.  :)

Back To Work

 Last week I went back to work.

I haven't written about it because I think I am in denial.

Summer is not over.

School is not starting.

My boys will stay little forever.

The End.




But no.  I'm working.  Every weekday.  At a job that I love, leaving behind two boys that I love even more.

And it's hard.  It's really, really hard.

Walking out the door is the most difficult thing I do each day.  My boys hate to see me go.  They cry, and reach for me.  And pull on my hands.  They know I'm leaving before I say goodbye.  I scoop each one up to hug and kiss and snuggle before I go, and every time I do, they start to wave bye bye.  But when I go to put them down they get mad.  Mad, mad, mad.  Because they love their mommy and they don't want me to leave.

It's actually a really healthy sign of attachment.  That part makes me feel good.  And their grandpa does such a wonderful job with them, and they have so much fun with him.  And while I walk to the car, the boys stand in the window and wave to me.

After I get out the door, its okay.

I turn up the music on the way to work.  I'm busy, busy from the moment I walk in the door at school.  My job in incredible, and rewarding, and perfect, so I enjoy every minute of it.  And then its time to go home, and I can't wait to get home to my sweet peas.  


It's hard to work full time.

But I love my job, and I love coming home to my amazing family.  And I love those boys with every ounce of my heart.  Every. Ounce.

So it's going to be okay.

And how can it not be with these boys to come home to?

Lucky in Love

I feel so lucky to be married to David.

He gets me.  He knows me.  He makes me so happy.

And the other day he did such a sweet thing that keeps coming to my mind.  So I want to share it.

David is really loving this vintage store we have in our town.  We discovered it recently, and finds ways to get me there all the time.  David has found quite a few treasures there, and even "likes" it on Facebook.  "Liking" a vintage store on Facebook.....  so silly.

The other day he took me there and spoiled me.  He had seen this giraffe scarf on their Facebook page and he wanted me to have it.   What?  He's so sweet.  But he's also very specific about how we spend money.  (THANK goodness - because I am not so specific...)

So I was surprised when he was buying me this beautiful scarf, just for fun.  It made me feel so spoiled!  He was just so sweet about it too.

But you know what?  There was one more thing he bought me that brings me to tears even writing this.



David very quietly hands me a small gold necklace.  It's petite.  It's beautiful.  It's "me".

And it has an anchor on it.

"I thought you might like this."

"David, its just like my dad's!"

"I know."

You see, David never got to meet my father.  He and I started a friendship when my father was near the end of his battle with cancer.


He's heard countless stories about my dad.  Listens to me repeat them over and over and doesn't stop me.  He eats dad's birthday peach pie with me every year.  Goes to the lake with me on Father's day.

Holds me while I cry out of nowhere when a memory comes upon me too quick.  Or when I dream about him and wake up remembering he's gone.

My dad left me this necklace.   It was his. You see, my dad LOVED his boat and the lake.  All things nautical really, except sail boats.  (He was not so much a slow sailing kind of guy - but power and speed. You know...man stuff.)  The necklace was a gold anchor with an eagle on it.  On a gold chain.  The chain is big, and the charm (can I call it that?  Medallion maybe?) is big.

Because it was for a guy.

I don't wear it.  Its a keepsake, and I treasure it because it was his.  I would like to wear it, but its not really "me".  It's certainly "my dad", and that is what I love about it.  But its not me.



I know that this doesn't seem like a big deal.  But it is.

It SO is.

We've never really talked about the necklace.  He knew I had it, and he'd seen it plenty of times.  I've never told him that I wish it was something I could wear without looking like I was wearing a "gold chain" or was a fifty year old man.

But it means the world to me that he knew I would love this.

Its beautiful.
Its a sweet tribute to my father.
And I adore it.

Just Wait till You Know Them...

Okay.

So yesterday was sort of a downer.

Sorry.  Some days are just like that.

But today I want to share a letter.  And hopefully its not such a downer.  It's not meant to be.  Its meant to be filled with joy.  Because that is what these boys do.  They fill me with joy.  And if I could, I would share that with my dad.

So here it is...

------------------------------------------------------


Dear Dad,

You have the most amazing grandsons.  I know that you know this.  I know that you watch over them from Heaven.  But let me tell you about them.

This is Kingston.

He LOVES to laugh.  He is so independent.  He plays all day long and runs everywhere he goes.  He likes to climb things. He stands on all his toys, and he loves to push buttons.  I had to tape cardboard over the buttons on the DVR because he kept fast forwarding the TV.

He smiles at everyone.  Loves to flirt with the ladies, and shows off when people are over.  But when he is mad?  He throws himself down on the floor and cries.  He rolls and tantrums.  No tears, just a brilliant display of unhappiness.

But its rare.  Most of the time he is just a bucket of smiles!

He has wild hair that can only sometimes be tamed.  David thinks its time to cut it, mostly because it isn't growing in super even.  I agree, but can't bring myself to set up an appointment.  So it just keeps getting wilder, and I keep loving it a little more.

And this is Kyrie.

This is pretty much how he looks after ever meal.  Little specks of food on his face, usually one chunk of food in his hair, and food in his mouth that he is "saving".

His smile lights up the room, and he has the tightest most beautiful curls.  I'm nervous I'll never ever be able to cut them.

He has tons of teeth, and his molars are all coming in at once.  He's had a low fever for the past couple days and has been really unhappy because of the teething.  Poor little guy.

Kyrie is my little lovey.  He is such a mama's boy right now and loves to snuggle and cuddle with me.

                   

He is also "all boy".  He is a biter, and a hitter.  He laughs at me when I tell him no.  And he is always chasing his brother, pulling on the back of his shirt, and tackling him.  Needless to say, this leads to Kingston throwing himself on the ground because he's sick of his brother messing with him.

And Kyrie LOVES to dance.  If he hears any kind of music, he bouncing on his legs, stomping his feet, and flapping his arms.  All with pride.  It's so awesome.

Kyrie has such a big personality.  He loves hard, plays rough, is stubborn, and when he wants to be picked up he'll let you know.  When my arms are hurting and I have one million things I have to do and I go to put him down, he pulls his legs up to his body, wrinkles his face into a grimace, and goes limp so I can't put him down.  Then when I scoop him back up, his face lights up and he grins with at "I got what I wanted" look.  It's priceless.  He has me wrapped around his finger.

They are best friends.  They play so good together.  The talk to each other.  They make each other laugh.  When one boy is playing with something, the other wants to too.  They steal toys from each other and chase each other.  They are handsome and silly and wonderful.

They are your grandsons.

They will learn all about you.  They will love you without ever knowing you.

And when we go to the beach on Father's Day, or your birthday, or the anniversary of your death, it will be to celebrate your life, and the amazing man that you were. They will know your story.  And they will know that the one place I feel closest to you is at Lake Michigan.

And one day they'll grow up to be men.  And you know what, dad?  I hope they'll be a lot like you.

August 14

Today my heart hurts.    Like I can feel every beat, and there is this pain in my chest that won't go away.

I know why.  I always feel a little yuck on August 14.

Because this is the day cancer took my dad away seven years ago.

And I didn't see it coming, but this year is just harder.  I mean, I should have seen it coming, but I didn't.  Because his birthday (5 days ago) was okay.  I made a peach pie, and celebrated his birthday with my brothers and their families.  And it was bittersweet, but good to be with family.  Liz made Cody (and baby Lily) this beautiful book about my dad, and it was shared.  The cousins played.  It was nice.

But today is not nice.

It just plain sucks.

I look at my precious boys, and I'm just so mad.  I'm mad that my dad never got to meet them.  And I'm mad that they are missing out on knowing their grandpa.  I'm mad that so many people can cure their cancer, and my dad's took his life.  I know that's not fair.  It's great some cancer is curable.  But my dad's wasn't, so I'm mad anyway.  I'm mad there wasn't more time.  I'm mad he never knew I wanted to adopt.  He never knew David.  I'm just so mad today.

Cancer is just not fair.  And it hurts.  So, so much.


I want him to pick up my boys.  And love them.  And tell me how they have his hair, and that they're going to be trouble one day because they are his grandsons, and he was trouble.  I know he would love them.  I know he would spoil them.  And tickle them.  And give them weird nicknames.

Today I'm mad to be missing all that.  For my boys to be missing all of that.  For my dad to be missing all that.

I'm 30 years old.  I'm a grown up.  I get that.  But you know what?  Today I just want my daddy.