The Curious Georges

Logie sez: Happy Thanksgiving!

Funky Monkey Music

A rose by any other name...

When I was pregnant with my first set of twins, I bought every known how-to book on parenting twins out there.  And there are lots of them!  Some of the advice was somewhat off-putting.  I remember reading that this one mom of twins affixed a sign to her stroller saying, "Yes, they are twins. No, they're not identical."  In other words, "Bug off, nosy stranger!"  I just could never imagine being so annoyed by the sweet attention of strangers.  In fact, I absolutely love it when strangers come up to me and ask if my boys are twins.  Since my "older" daughter is only 19 months senior to the boys, we even get the "Are they triplets" question.  Of course, there aren't very many witty responses to "Boy, you have your hands full," but I just gamely nod assent and say perkily, "We sure do!"  In other words, we do have our hands full, but I so love having these three little monkeys, that I'm going to stay perky and willingly bask in the attention of strangers.  It's just plain fun.  One time we were ambling with our triple-wide stroller in the Rose Garden park and there was a group of Japanese tourists that were all a-twitter over our trio.  Many of them even took our photos, which made me feel like a rock star mommy!

Anyway, I'm digressing.  The main subject of this post was on the topic of what we call Dane and Logan.  Every book I read stressed the importance of not lumping your children into a two-word moniker, such as "the boys" or "the twins."  This is considered verboten among those dogmatic twin experts.  They are not one person, they say.  They have their own names.  Well, I have to admit that 9 times out of 10, we call Dane and Logan "the boys."  I talked in a prior post about how twins do experience life a bit differently than singletons.  The early life of a twin child is not a solitary existence.  They do virtually everything together.  Look at the last post!  They were gently touching hands while they slept.  This is one of the reasons that they are lumped together with the term, "the boys."  Also, we are just so busy that this helps us say what we want to say and fast.  Believe it or not, having to say "DaneandLogan" (4 syllables) is much longer and thus less efficient than "theboys" (two syllables).  Does that sound ridiculous?  Well, in the chaotic world of twins plus a singleton, cutting out two syllables can make a huge difference.  We're all about simplifying life here.

I met a twin mom last week and she told me that the point where they had to stop calling her twins, "the boys" came when one of them thought that was his name.  Seriously.  Lucky for us, Dane and Logan know their own names so we can go on calling them "the boys" with impunity.

I find that in no way does calling Dane and Logan "the boys" diminish their individuality or sense of self.  In fact, I have never seen this be the case in any of my observations of twins.  The boys are very different kids even though their first two and a half years have been filled with virtually the same experiences.  Logie is a social butterfly and loves to clown around.  He's a dancing maniac and will start rocking out, even to music that you would normally not think would appeal to a toddler, such as ambient, "chill" type stuff usually only found in clubs and uber-hip bars.  He's very self-confident and a bit more laid back than Dane.  Dane is much more intense and does everything to the nth degree, even playing.  He tends to be a bit more quiet and introspective with new people, but a wild maniac at home.  He will not let anything get in the way of his pursuit of candy.  He has the George family single-minded drive that will hopefully carry him far in life.

As Shakespeare wrote in Romeo and Juliet, "What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."  I truly believe that calling Dane and Logan "the boys" has not affected their development nor will it scar them for life.  As time progresses, "the boys" may fall by the wayside and then we'll start calling them "those sullen adolescents" or some such appropriate term. 

Now, if we went around calling them "the monsters," that's quite a different story.

Native American Logie & Pilgrim Dane say "Happy Thanksgiving!"

Hangin' in the Rose Garden at 7 months

Rockin' with Logie!

Brotherly Love Part II

A while back I did a post that used the term "brotherly love" ironically.  This is how I found them tonight.  That's the real deal.  And, yes, they're back to sleeping on the floor, especially Danie.  He likes to burrow right next to the crack of the door, where the light comes through.  The boys always get waffle-imprints on their face from the grain of the carpet, but they seem to be happy with their sleeping arrangements so I won't rock the boat.

A Letter to my Children

The main purpose of this blog is to pass on to my children a sense of who they were growing up.  When my mother died and I was 29 years old, I felt I lost a huge chunk of my past, my history, the stories that make up who I am.  In journaling the life of our family with a sprinkling of social, cultural and political context, I am hoping that my children will never be left with this void and that this chronicle will only build on their sense of self.

As we celebrate the election of Barack Obama for president, I want to impart to my kids what I believe President Obama has shown us so far.  That you can accomplish anything in this country if you just believe in yourself.  That you should always fight the fair fight and never lower yourself to name calling or accusations.  To exhibit grace under pressure.  To respect and honor your family, even those who are no longer with us.  To value education.  To have hope.

After the travesty of the last election, I was skeptical that this decision would come so soon.  What a relief when Barton came into our bedroom last night with a big grin on his face saying, "It's official.  Barack is President!"  I  am looking forward to the re-birth of the United States under President-elect Obama's leadership.  But mostly I have hope for what this amazing man can teach our future leaders, our children.

The Big Easy

My friend, Louise, and I went to New Orleans a couple weekends ago.  Originally, the raison d'etre for the trip was to attend the BlogHer Conference, but it ended up getting canceled.  Since it would have cost an arm and a leg to cancel the hotel and air, we ended up going anyway.  We were just devastated (ha ha).  All sarcasm aside, New Orleans ROCKS!  It is one of my top five favorite cities, along with Austin (of course), San Francisco, Paris and Florence. 

 
St. Louis Cathedral

art in Jackson Square

local musician

Garden District home

Pirate Portraits

Q:  How many shots does it take to get a good photo of a family of five?
A:  We'll let you know when we find out, but we know it's A LOT!

Cute, but where's Dane?

Now the boys aren't smiling.  Sigh ...

Logie surveys his booty.

When the booty is taken away.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

All of our little Swashbucklers had a wonderful Halloween.  The boys went trick-or-treating for the first time and stayed up late ... 9pm.  We're trying to wrap our heads around whether this is a good or bad thing for the time change.  I think even Barton suffers from Mommy Brain.