I just saw on the Newshour that there was a litter of octuplets delivered in Southern California yesterday (yes, I said litter - just calling it as I see it). I guess the hospital was prepared to deliver seven babies and then discovered there were eight in the middle of delivery. CAN YOU IMAGINE HAVING THAT MANY BABIES?!?! It truly boggles the mind.

I have no doubt this is controversial to say, but I think it's negligent of the parents to even attempt to have that many kids in one shot. I firmly believe there should have been some "selections" made. They clearly were using fertility treatments and they clearly were not doing so in a responsible manner - or at least their doctor was not doing so in a responsible manner. The health risks posed to those babies by virtue of being super-multiples are astounding. And the financial cost of the NICU alone will be close to a million bucks. But let's talk about that poor, poor, poor mother for a minute. How is she going to take care of all those babies in the middle of the night? How will she retain any sense of the sanity that I'm assuming she once had? I've seen Jon and Kate Plus 8 and realize that they will survive (barely - Kate sure acts like a bitch a lot of the time and I feel sorry for Jon), but it still seems like a trainwreck right from the get-go to me. THANK GOD I only had two. Then again, we weren't using fertility treatments so eight was never an option. It's just not natural.

And I sure as hell hope that woman's doctor gave her a tummy tuck as he was closing up the C-section (Lord knows I wish my doctor had).

We had something of a disaster occur this morning. The girls and I were supposed to meet a former professional contact of mine for a friendly breakfast at 8:30 this morning. For once, I actually left the house not on time or late but EARLY. I got about halfway to the restaurant and realized that my wallet was not in the diaper bag, but rather in my purse at home. So annoying. I turned around to get it, which ate up all of my extra time and ensured that I would be approximately 10 minutes late. I had hoped to be early so that I didn't walk into the restaurant all baby-and-highchair-wielding crazy ladylike, but rather have this guy show up to find the three of us already settled at a table with Belly and The Bug cheerfully nibbling away on scones and me sipping a latte. I was driving along trying to put together Plan B for restaurant entry so that the aforementioned crazy lady was not a look I rocked when it sounded like a tidal wave hit the back seat. I immediately pulled over and discovered that Belly had let loose a tsunami of puke. It was mostly on the seat and her coat sleeve, so I figured I'd wipe it up as best I could and we'd be back on our way. As I was doing that, The Bug projectile puked, too. WTF?? Same scenario - hardly any on her, so off we go. We got about two blocks further and The Bug started puking again - this time straight down into her coat. I called our breakfast date (who was already at our meeting spot) to cancel and immediately turned around to drive home. The Bug puked again as we were pulling in the driveway. SO STRANGE!! I mean, these girls were serious pukers when they were little-little, but the last 5 or 6 months have been predominantly puke-free. Once we were home, it came to light that Dude had basically sabotaged me. He'd given them straight orange juice this morning (not watered down at all) AND - thinking he was doing me a favor - had added in their liquid vitamins. Mind you, they hadn't eaten anything because we were going out for breakfast. Couple that harshness with riding backward in their carseats - we were doomed. My breakfast plans never stood a chance.

Dude, of course, was not intentional in his ways. BUT - I had told him a few days ago when he suggested putting vitamins in morning juice (since I consistently forget to give them later in the day) that I didn't think it was a good idea and that they should be given with food. I believe my exact words were, "The vitamins can be hard on their stomachs and I don't want them to puke." And yet...there they were. In the morning juice.

After everyone was filled up with plain blueberry waffles and played for a bit, The Bug seemed pretty tired. I've been trying to keep them up until 12-12:30p so they are thoroughly exhausted for their nap, but here it was 10:30a and there were already yawns. We went up to the girls' room to play with that set of toys and books and the change of scenery seemed to reinvigorate them for awhile. But right around 11:20a, both girls snuggled up next to me on their bed and were sawing logs ten minutes later. Get this: The Bug slept until 2p and Belly slept until almost 2:30p!!! It was wonderful! The Bug was really sweet when she woke up and wanted to snuggle and give butterfly kisses for about ten minutes. Belly was equally adorable. The day was turning out to be pretty good after the morning craziness.

We came downstairs and had lunch (polishing off the last of those fabulous Fortnum & Mason's Raspberry Preserves with Drambuie). Belly was elbow-deep in her peanut butter and jelly when a foul stench started wafting up from her highchair. I figured she had maybe five minutes until she was done with lunch, so I let her carry on. As soon as she finished, I washed her hands and face and lifted her out of her chair...only to feel that the back of her pants were wet and warm...and my hand was now covered in poop. It was a leg leaker. Why?! By the time I had her naked and in the tub, we both had shit everywhere. So totally unpleasant.

Since then, The Bug has bit Belly three times and Belly now cries unless I hold her. Standing. I'm actually typing with just my left hand at the moment. I love these little girls so fiercely, so completely, so devotedly...but I think I'm living in a loony bin. I'm hopeful that this is just a phase. They turn from so sweet and fun to holy terrors in the blink of an eye. I don't know why it catches me off guard, but it really does and I feel like not-a-good mom. Please be a phase...or let me get better at this. Or both.

So one of the perks - the BIGGEST perk - of living in Portland now is the close proximity to babysitters. Specifically, I mean my sister B and my mom. I'd include my sister A in this category, but she was Belly and The Bug's nanny from when they were 3-months-old to 8-months-old and she's fairly over it. Don't get me wrong - she loves to play with them but she's not so into the whole free babysitting thing. Anyway, Dude and I have been out alone THREE WHOLE TIMES already. That's about two times more than we'd been out since the girls were born.

This dating thing is going to take some getting used to, though. We're still not convinced that the girls will go to bed for anyone but us, so we've been getting them to sleep before we go out (leaving our babysitters with nothing to do but watch tv and fall asleep on the couch). And then when we're out, we talk about the girls. We went to a concert last week and we actually spent the time between the opener and the headliner looking at pictures of Belly and The Bug first on my phone and then on Dude's. How lame is that?

Last night we did a little better. We went to my favorite wine bar in the whole world - Noble Rot. They have excellent wine and delicious, delicious food. We had a great time and kept our conversations about the girls to a minimum. I didn't even call home to check in. Now THAT'S progress. Of course, it might've been because I was getting a little schnockered (I can use that word - I'm from Wisconsin) and was slightly out of focus. In any case, last night actually felt like a pre-kid date. SO FUN!! Dude has already informed me, though, that next date will be my turn to be the designated driver. I suppose that's fair, but I still feel like I need to make up for all the time I couldn't drink during pregnancy and breastfeeding.

In addition to going out with Dude, I'm hoping to go out with some of the women that I kinda know here soon. I really miss having good girlfriends around. That was my largest complaint about living in DC. I had a couple friends, but only one that I really count as a GOOD girlfriend - and she and I grew close pretty much after we'd decided we were moving away. In an interesting parallel, my older sister E moved to Nashville shortly after I moved to DC. She was lonely for her girlfriends, too, and was having a hard time meeting new ones. We'd constantly commiserate on the phone with each other. Well, several years later, she's gotten over that hump and now has a best bud there. I'm so jealous! She tells me about stuff they do together and I feel positively green. For instance - they're starting a monthly supper club with three other couples. Um, hello!! I want to play, too! I'm really happy for E, but I still feel jealous (and maybe slightly desperate).

The problem I have is meeting women who are in similar circumstances but also have similar interests. You know - mothers of young children who are interested in drinking wine and eating good food and are funny, creative people. I was a member of our neighborhood's parents listserv in DC and I went to a "mom's night out" event one time. All of the other moms just wanted to talk kid stuff and didn't seem to have any outside interests. "How old were your daughters when you first gave them solids? What kind of diapers do you use? Do your kids walk yet?" Blah blah blah. I was so effing bored. I was about to go but made a point to thank the organizer before I left. She and I started chatting and she was actually kinda cool - and on her third glass of wine. We exchanged email addresses and swore that we'd get together with our kids soon. I emailed her and she never wrote back. I emailed her again and nothing. I can't even begin to tell you how typical that is of my experiences in DC. I have higher hopes for Portland just because I think it's less of a tight-ass city. We'll see.

In the meantime, I'll just keep dating Dude. He's funny and fun. He likes to drink and eat good food. And he'll grind the coffee beans for the morning before tucking me into bed. Now THAT'S a good friend (and husband).

I'm so happy - I have been crying here and there all effing day. I will not write a lengthy post today because there are a zillion other bloggers and pundits and journalists and poets, etc. who will be much more eloquent than me, but I'm SO THRILLED that today is real! I held my breath a little when My President and First Lady walked parts of the parade route, but other than that, I've been filled with glee all day long. Honestly, I think I felt true patriotism for the first time in my life on November 4th and today is like that times ten. Yay for us! Yay for America! Yay for the world! YAY! YAY! YAY! But most of all - YAY FOR PRESIDENT OBAMA!!!

Dude got an email the other day from someone who was letting everyone in his address book know that he was planning to be in Europe January 16-24 and his Washington DC apartment would be available for rent during that time for anyone who was looking to attend the Inauguration. Guess how much for this "luxury apartment" a mere six blocks from the White House. No really - guess. Six thousand dollars. Six THOUSAND dollars. Let me say this one more time because it makes my head spin and that's fun for the girls to watch: SIX THOUSAND DOLLARS. Can you imagine??

We are kicking ourselves a little for selling the house when we did. I know we should count our blessings that in this crap economic climate it was on the market for only 42 days and we made a nice profit, but what if we'd waited until February to sell and had instead rented it out in January? It's sheer greed that drives those thoughts, but still. I'm fairly confident that, through certain connections, we could've rented it for a few months to someone from the Obama advance/transition team. That extra income would've been used to pay for a family vacation this coming spring, certainly some new shoes (of course), groceries ('cause I can't believe how much I'm spending every week) and all kinds of other stuff that would've helped us be better consumers in this time of national economic need. I'm just sayin.

On a different note, I took Belly and The Bug to an "indoor park" at the local community center on Friday. That was the day that I decided maybe it was time to transition from two daily naps to one (for the record, I think the girls made that decision about a week before I did judging from the yucky nap times of late). The indoor park is for kids ages 1-5 and is three days a week smack-dab in the middle of morning nap time. Therefore, we'd never been before. We paid the $1 per kid entrance fee (so cheap!) and rolled our big ol' stroller into the gym. There were about 30-40 kids in there with their parents and Belly and The Bug were absolutely blown away. They constantly have each other as playmates, but never in their whole little lives had they seen so many OTHER kids. And they were wowed. Totally wowed. I set The Bug down and she stood there - mouth agape - for the longest time. I set Belly down and she took off across the gym, sqealing in delight. Another parent even commented that she had a "great squeak." Their reactions were the complete opposite of what I would've expected from each of them. I basically kept bringing The Bug around with me as I followed Belly all over the play area. This lasted for about 45 minutes. Then it was like she flipped her fun switch. She gave a hoot and TOOK OFF. The Bug ran all over the gym, playing with the bikes, the balls, the toys, the other kids. Meanwhile, Belly befriended a little boy (probably about three years old) who very patiently pointed out all of the different parts of the Little Tykes car in which he was sitting. "Mirror. Mirror. Door. Door." She just made googly eyes at him and laughed and laughed. It was pretty dang cute.

I also talked for a while with our neighbor three doors down (now I have that song "Kryptonite" in my head) who has a little girl a few weeks older than ours. She was pretty nice. And there were some other cool parents there, too. It was a relief to see people with dreads and tattoos instead of the Stepford moms I often saw at the parks in DC.

When we got home, Dude couldn't believe how giddy Belly and The Bug were. If they could speak English, I'm sure their excited chatter would've been punctuated with a lot of "AND THEN...!"

Needless to say, they slept VERY well that afternoon. I think we just found our new morning hangout.

Today appeared to be your typical day with teething toddler twins: mini-tantrums and whining sprinkled in with the giggles and games. There were two things that were different, though - one horribly disgusting and one oh-so-wonderful.

Dude and I gave the girls some prune juice this morning because they've been stopped up like little bottles of vintage wine lately. Let's just say, it worked. Very well. Ugh. I haven't changed that many crappy diapers since they were little, newborn mustard poopers. It is totally, totally, totally different now. That is as far into the sordid details as I will go, but believe me that they are NASTY. If we have to go this route again, I will be taking a more tentative approach and giving half the amount of juice I gave this morning.

The other stand-out of today was peanut butter. I know that there is a big salmonella scare associated with peanut butter right now, but I've had this unopened jar of organic peanut butter for at least six months and felt confident it was safe to consume. Belly and The Bug have never had peanut butter before since the pediatrician had said to wait until they are at least 15 months old. Well, today I was drawing a total blank as to what to give them for lunch. I needed something quick and had no real good options for a protein. I thought, "I wish I could give them peanut butter and jelly." And then I did! They'll be 15 months in about 2 weeks anyway, so what the hell. I couldn't find any regular jelly so I opened a jar of Fortnam & Mason's raspberry preserves with Drambuie and added that to the peanut butter on the bread. To say that these girls loved it is an understatement. There was a lot of "MMMMMMMMMMM!" and "NUM!NUM!NUM!" coming from their baby mouths whilst they were crammed with peanut butter and jelly goodness. You'd have thought that I gave them chocolate cake or something for lunch. And nobody broke out in hives or went into anaphylactic shock, so I fully intend to give it to them again. And again. And again. And again. It's a whole new world.

1. Starting at 1am, Belly was awake. Awake and trying to crawl around the bed. This is a major problem because, well...Belly, The Bug, Dude and I all still sleep in the same bed. I know, I know - they're getting a little old for that kind of nonsense, but I love snuggling with them. I think it has to do with the fact that their first three weeks were spent in the NICU and I felt terrible the whole time about having to put them back in "their" beds and leaving. Anyway, that is the current sleeping arrangement and Belly was sleeping by me last night. Or not sleeping as it turns out. I don't think I slept more than 45 minutes at a time because she kept crawling around; hitting my face; poking my ears, eyes, nose; trying to wake up The Bug. I finally had to take her in the other room. Today we are C-R-A-B-B-Y.

2. The Bug pried an outlet cover off and tried to stick her finger in the hole while looking at me like, "Are you going to do something about this?"

3. As I was in the middle of changing The Bug's poopy diaper, Belly stepped on her face.

4. The Bug was playing quietly when it occurred to me that she was being a little too quiet. Sure enough - she'd opened up the container of teething tablets and had them in a little pile in front of her. She looked up at me with white all around her mouth like she'd been eating powdered donuts. When I took the bottle from her, she quickly grabbed as many of the tabs as possible and shoved them in her mouth. At least they're homeopathic and won't do anything to her (except maybe mellow her out - one can only hope).

Sigh. It's barely noon.

That's called sarcasm, people. I am soooo far from perfect, and even further from most perfect. Sometimes I'm astounded by that distance. I mean, I have a zillion younger siblings and babysat 10,000 kids and was even a nanny - twice! I guess I thought that I would be something of a saint when it came to the patience required for my own kids. Was having twins my punishment for that kind of thinking? Sometimes it seems so, even though I wouldn't trade either one of them for the world. They're a handful, but oh so worth it. I've realized that I have not given Belly and The Bug proper introductions and I probably should do that since this blog was named after them and they consume the vast, vast majority of my time and thinking.

As I mentioned in a previous post, Belly and The Bug were born about seven weeks early. They were the tiniest little babies I'd ever seen at 4 pounds 2 ounces each. They spent their first three weeks charming the pants off the nurses in the NICU. They weren't sick, but rather they were still too "young" to have their suck-swallow-breathe coordination down. I guess they finally grew tired of my daily desperate pleas to drink their bottles because, overnight, they just did it. And then they came home.

Holy crap! We had twins! As in, two squawking newborns who cried so loud that if you stood on the sidewalk in front of our house, it sounded like we were seriously neglecting them. I called the pediatrician soooooo often. And the advice nurse. Even at twenty bucks a pop on the weekends. "Hi. It's Rachael. My babies are crying again. I just nursed them every other hour for the last 14 hours. I am so effing tired. What should I do? Help. Me." But God forbid my mother or mother-in-law tell me what to do. Ohhhhhhh nooooo. We had company for the first two solid months of the girls' lives and I was so sick of everyone telling me how I should do things. I was the mom and I was in charge. But in the middle of the night, I was more than willing to pay for sound advice that I’m sure either mother would’ve been happy to impart. I suppose it just sounded less bossy to me coming from a “professional.”

Well, we all survived the first year and, I’m proud to say, Belly and The Bug have actually thrived. They’ve gone from teeny little preemies to being in the 75-90th percentile for both weight and height for ALL babies their age – making them officially not preemie anymore. And they are cool little people to boot. They're both funny and fun!

The Bug was the firstborn and has always been about a month ahead of Belly developmentally – sitting, crawling, walking, telling dirty jokes, etc. She's extremely outgoing and is pretty much the life of the party wherever we go. Belly is a little more reserved and seems more like a baby. She's also about the most loving little kid I've ever met. Seriously. She's a hugger and a kisser and a cuddler - the likes of which you've never seen before. And she'll be aggressive about it. What's that? You don't want to get smothered in wet baby kisses right now? Well suck it! It's happening! Belly will not be denied doling out her slobbery love!

They are especially fun to watch when they snuggle together. I’d say at least 4 or 5 times a day they hug and kiss each other and giggle like crazy about it. Of course, they will be horrified when I tell them about it in later years because they’re kinda making out, but I’m not about to tell them to stop kissing. It is what it is.

The girls are a little over 14-months-old right now and while totally adorable, they are sometimes holy terrors. Like right now. I can hear The Bug crying and crying as Dude is trying to put them to sleep. She's been fussy all night even though she’s been engaged with toys and books, held, bathed, given teething tabs and a sippy cup of warm milk. She. Just. Won’t. Stop. And Belly chimes in from time to time just because she can. Sigh. [Note: I went upstairs after the girls were asleep and Dude told me that he had been lying on the bed, shirtless, with a baby on either side to get them to sleep. While The Bug sobbed away inconsolably, Belly was blowing fart noises up and down his side.]

The Bug thinks it's funny when I tell her no. And the more firm I am in telling her No!, the funnier it is. Yesterday she literally was doubled over in laughter as I repeatedly reprimanded her for trying to bite me. And I cannot get them to say mama. It's daddy this and daddy that all the livelong day but not a mama anywhere. The Bug will say book and up and butt (don't ask); Belly will even say e-i-e-i-o. But forget about mama. They laugh and say daddy instead. It's totally maddening. I wish I had more patience with them when they're biting/whining/repeatedly taking toys from each other. It's just constantly, constantly, constantly happening and I get so tired of it. Every day I say to myself, "They will never be this little again" in an attempt to feel nothing but love for them. Sometimes it works and sometimes I consider locking myself in the closet for awhile.

But they really are cute. Need proof? Here you go...

Dang I love those girls.

Okay - so we finally made it to Portland. Our plan was to spend the night (Tuesday, 12/16) in our new empty rental house on an air mattress, leaving first thing Wednesday morning to go to my mom's house three hours away. Mom owns a bed & breakfast so I was looking forward to a little extra pampering after the craziness of the air travel. I'm not sure if you followed national weather just before Christmas, but Portland got the Storm of the Century that Tuesday. Snow, snow and more snow fell on our new city (which apparently owns about two snow plows). It was beautiful. And paralyzing. The whole place shut down - including the interstates. We were stuck in Portland and Mom was stuck at her place. The moving company called and said the truck with our stuff would be here on Sunday the 21st. It was kind of fun, though - like camping but with all of the modern conveniences, three bathrooms and a gas fireplace. We just rolled with it because we had time on our side. We weren't supposed to leave for Green Bay (to visit the inlaws) until the morning of 12/23.

Then it snowed more. It was starting to turn into a pain in the ass. Everyone was sold out of snow shovels, ice scrapers, women's snow boots and sleds. Trust me - I looked in vain for those four items all week.

And the moving company called again. Our stuff would be here on 12/22. No - make that 12/23. We were losing our confidence in how on top of it our "move coordinator" really was because she didn't even know the interstates were closed. Having a knack for being able to get to the bottom of anything, Dude discovered that our truck was stuck in Spokane and not moving until the roads cleared. Which would be when??

We realized that it was going to be impossible to go to Wisconsin for Christmas and Dude reluctantly called his parents to break the news. Here's the thing about Dude: he's a total Mama's boy. And he loves tradition. AND his birthday is Christmas Eve. Christmas time at his parents' house is his favorite thing ever and he'd been looking forward to it for over a year. To say he was disappointed is a gross understatement. Also, three of my younger sibs live in Portland. My brother (Dan is 25) is recently married and already had Christmas plans with his wife's family. My two sisters (Sissy is 21 & Brianne is 23) had planned to have Christmas with my mom like they have every year of their lives and were at a complete loss as to what to do since Mom was snowed out of Portland. It was obvious that my duties as a good wife and big sister were cut out for me.

Cue the call from the moving company: our stuff would be here 12/24.

So, Bri came over to babysit while I fulfilled Dude's father's tradition of taking him out for a beer the night before his birthday. It was the first time we'd been out ALONE in...forever maybe?

The morning of Christmas Eve, we were all ready for our stuff to arrive. Dude had spoken to the driver the evening before and he was only about an hour outside Portland. Plus that particular stretch of interstate was open. We seemed to be in the clear! Seemed. The driver called that morning to tell us that the City of Portland still had a chain restriction for all trucks and guess what? He didn't have any chains. Not only that, the company didn't allow him to put chains on the truck. He was 10 miles away with my coffee pot and would remain there until the restriction was lifted - hopefully 12/26. I could not freaking believe it. Could. Not. But what was I going to do? So I got effing festive. I went grocery shopping and stocked up on supplies to create a holiday feast that included (but was certainly not limited to) Mom's shrimp dip for Sissy and some gluten-free, sugar-free, dairy-free, sesame-free bean dip with gluten-free crackers for Bri. And wine. And egg nog. And soy nog. Plus we got a tree. I learned that you can get a beautiful Christmas tree for only $10 if you wait until the afternoon of Christmas Eve to make the purchase. We decorated it with lights and a shiny little ornament at the top. That night, while Dude, Belly, The Bug, Sissy and Bri were sleeping (they spent the night at our house), Santa even came with stockings for everyone. Seriously, people - I was downright Jolly.

Christmas morning, we opened gifts, played with babies, ate delicious gluten-free waffles and chilled out. The whole day was nice and it was easy to forget all of the craziness of the move - as long as you overlooked that we had a single-sized air mattress as a couch and a lone steak knife as the only sharp knife in the place.

When the truck pulled up out front on the morning of 12/26, I was so happy that I almost kissed the driver. And Mom finally made it in to Portland. THANK GOD THIS ORDEAL WAS OVER.

I have since told Dude that if we ever decide to do anything so stupid as to move across the country again, it will be after we renounce all of our worldly possessions. But I'm pretty sure we will not be moving back to the East Coast anyway (which means you can stay, all my beautiful cookbooks, and you as well, 900 pairs of shoes). Costa Rica on the other hand...

So, we're here in Portland. And so is our stuff. Finally. But let's go back to December 15th - the day of the house closing...

Everything was going according to plan - we met the buyers at the settlement office, signed paperwork, were promised a huge chunk of money would be wired to our bank account within 24 hours, and were on our merry way. We went straight to the airport, checked in, made it through security without babies crying and felt like things were just as they should be. Stupid us. Stupid, stupid, stupid us. Our flight was suddenly delayed and instead of having an hour or so between this and our connecting flight to Portland, we were going to have about half an hour or less. Dude went to the desk and explained that there was no way we could do that with Belly, the Bug and waiting for two strollers on the jetway. The ever-so-helpful ladies at the desk changed our flights so that instead of going DC-Philadelphia-Portland, we were now going DC-Phoenix-Portland to give us ample time between flights. It added two hours to our travel, but at least we'd make the planes. I didn't question it because I figured Dude had it handled.

What Dude didn't realize was that this new itinerary gave us a mere 35 minutes between flights - a detail that came to light as we were landing in Phoenix. Miraculously, our strollers were waiting for us when we walked off the plane. Belly & the Bug were thrown into them and I literally ran through the airport pushing both strollers with Dude trailing, toting the four carry-ons. I asked the employee at the top of the jetbridge to call ahead to our gate and let them know we were coming and she said they wouldn't hold the plane for us. Thanks for that! So helpful and exactly what I needed to hear at that precise moment! So we run, run, run to the other terminal, pull up in front of the gate, and they're loading a plane to Houston. What?! "Oh - didn't they tell you at your original gate? Your flight has moved...THREE GATES FROM WHERE YOU JUST GOT OFF THE PLANE." So we run, run, run BACK the way we just came. I'm sweating. As in, sweat mustache. Always a good look. Fortunately, this flight is now delayed 15 minutes and I have time to grab a bottle of water before we board. Alright, I think, time to breathe. Everything is fine.

Only when we give the guy our boarding passes, it beeps in a bad way. It beeps again. And again. He finally says, "Apparently you're not checked in for this flight and your seats have been given away." I just looked at Dude. I was sooooo close to losing my shit right there in the pre-board/first class line. Dude clearly recognized this and just HANDLED it. Calmly and firmly. Like the awesome husband and former tour manager that he is. We got on the plane in our original seats - one window and one aisle with the girls on our laps. The plan was to get the person in the middle seat to want to move so that we'd have a free seat. As it ends up, the very last person to board the plane was a guy in his early 20s whose face just FELL when he saw his seat. Dude looked at him and said, "What the f**k? You don't like babies or something?" The guy was all, "Uhhhh...no man...I mean, babies are cool." Oh my God. I started laughing SO HARD. The flight attendant found him a seat somewhere else. Again, I sighed in relief.

We arrived in Portland and my little sisters met us at the airport. Dude went to get the rental car while I got the luggage. Except...yep, you guessed it...only two of our four bags arrived. Plus our car seats were missing. Have I mentioned that this was 11:45pm Pacific time and we had been up since 6:30am Eastern? The woman at the baggage counter thought something was wrong with me because I wasn't freaking out at her about our missing stuff. I was so over it, though, I just couldn't summon up the energy to be pissed. The two suitcases that had arrived had our clothes and toiletries and that was what was needed the most. We got loaner car seats and went to the crap motel I'd reserved for the night. Ah, sleep. How I needed thee.

We'd made it. We were in Portland. It was all going to be okay.

To be continued...

I've had spotty internet over the last few weeks so haven't been able to post. I will definitely write more this week and give a full recounting of our wild and crazy move/holiday. You just ain't even gonna believe the whole ordeal.

It was 5 years ago today that we arrived in Washington DC from Los Angeles - a bittersweet day filled with meeting new friends and crying because I missed my old ones. Sigh. Anyway. For today's blog, I'm borrowing a New Year's list from someone else (thanks, Library Girl) to remember the old and herald the new:

1. What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before?
I invited a sibling to live with me. I quit a FABULOUS job. I hired a moving company to move me.

2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I poo-poo resolutions. As in, shun them as opposed to actually poop them. But the whole purpose of this move was to achieve greater balance in our lives, so I'm going to strive to accomplish that.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yeah, like 40 of my friends gave birth at the end of April/beginning of May. Okay not really but 4 of them did and one of the little bundles of joy was even named after me! Apparently she is the best baby in the whole world, too. I'd also like to give shouts out to Harley, Colin, Anna and Blaise for providing my inbox with a wealth of cutie-pie pictures.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Not this year, thank goodness.

5. What countries did you visit?
Dude and I took Belly and the Bug to Maui in August. I know that's not a different country, but it was 10 hours on a plane from Washington DC with a coupla 10-month-olds. If that's not world travel, I don't know what is.

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
Adult-only time with Dude. A clear head. Something resembling a pre-twin-vessel body.

7. What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory?
June 30th - my last day at my place of employment.
July 1st - the day the oh-my-God-so-expensive-I-can't-stand-it-COBRA kicked in.
November 4th - I cried such big tears of joy. [NOTE: I am pretty white. Lily even. But I went to college at Howard University and graduated with a degree in Political Science. The night of 11/4 I wanted to go up to campus and run around screaming, "WE DID IT!! WE DID IT!!" but I figured they'd call security because some crazy white lady was storming the Yard.]

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Dedicating myself to motherhood. Jeez - that's something I never thought I'd say.

9. What was your biggest failure?
I didn't use all of my excellent Macy's coupons this fall? Seriously. That's as deep as I'd like to delve into my failures.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nope.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
A $700 double stroller. Can you even believe that?? I used a little inheritance money to get it or else there would've been no way to justify it. I also love my tall black boots. And probably my annual donation to Planned Parenthood.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
The girls on their many plane trips this year.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
John Edwards was pretty lame.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Mortgage, of course. Followed closely by diapers and formula. Car payment was a distant third.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Babies crawling/walking. Seeing family. Maui. Selling our house.

16. What song will always remind you of 2008?
"Love Song" by Sarah Bareilles. How many times did I hear that song???

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? Happier.
b) thinner or fatter? Thinner (that's not saying much, though, considering I'd had twins 2 months earlier in 2007).
c) richer or poorer? Richer, but only because we sold the house in DC and haven't bought a new one yet.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Reading. Exercising. Chillin.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Obsessing over details.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
We spent it in our big empty house with my little sissies. More about that in the forthcoming blog about the move/holidays.

21 is missing. Time to take a breather...
Whew!

22. Did you fall in love in 2008?
Every day with these little girls and Dude.

23. How many one-night stands?
None, but the girls slept in our bed every night so I guess our bed was a happy "foursome."

24. What was your favorite TV program?
Project Runway and Top Chef remain my favorite programs.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Hate is such a strong word...so no. But this time last year I didn't know Sarah Palin existed. She provided ample opportunity for very strong dislike.

26. What was the best book you read?
Sadly, I didn't read much. Isn't that the dumbest thing ever? I had infant twins this year, though, so I slept instead of read when I had the opportunity. I guess "Eat Pray Love," but only because that's a book I actually completed. I'm in the middle of "Peace Like A River" now and that is much better.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Peter Himmelman makes cool kid music!

28. What did you want and get?
A move back to the West Coast.

29. What did you want and not get?
Those cool winter boots from Timberland.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
HA! Like I went to the movies this year. Gimme a break.

31. What did you do on your birthday?
I sold my house and flew cross-country to our new hometown of Portland. Dude brought me coffee in bed, though!

32.What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Having the unpacking fairies show up and do their thing in the new house.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
"Does it have buttons on the front? Yes? Well, sorry, but I can't wear it because my daughters will bite the buttons off."

34. What kept you sane?
Dude.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Jon Stewart. And Anthony Bourdain. And also Justin Timberlake on SNL.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
Please see the answer to question #7.

37. Who did you miss?
Oh, there's a long list....

38. Who was the best new person you met?
I'd have to say that the person I had the best time getting to know much, much better was Mary. She's already what I miss about Washington DC. Ho hum.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008:
Um...be sure to have extra wipes at the ready when changing a poopy diaper?

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a [mother]
Who loves [her daughters] more than I love you"
(From Paul Simon's "Father and Daughter," with lyrics altered to reflect what I sing to Belly and the Bug)

Final Thoughts:
Oh 2008 - what a crazy year you were. And hey, 2009? Please be good to us.