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.