I'm thinking of shutting down my blog. I've been really lax about posting lately, mostly because whatever's on my mind I'll post on Facebook. I'd been holding on to my blog because Mom wasn't on Facebook, but now that she is, it seems like this might be a good time to take that last step and call things quits here. So... I'm not sure whether you'll see anything else here or not. Time will tell, I guess.
Many people know that twins can run in families, especially fraternal twins. Our boys, though the look very much like brothers and can be difficult to distinguish from each other when first met, are fraternal. This means that two eggs were fertilized and implanted into my womb, instead of just one. Identical twins can happen to anyone, and are a result of one fertilized egg splitting in two before implantation.
Often Luke and I will be asked if one of us has twins in our family; lots of people know that it's a trait that can be inherited but it seems that the subtle detail of the mother's part in fraternal twins is often overlooked, or forgotten once that particular chapter in high school biology is safely tested and the grade is earned. Fraternal twins often run on the mother's side of the family because the mother has to have the genetic tendency to release more than one egg at a time, thus producing two babies instead of the usual one.
That being said...
One of our chickens had twins.
Or rather, it would have been twins, had the egg actually been fertilized and then incubated to term. We found our first double-yolker yesterday as the boys and I made pancakes. The egg was definitely larger than the others we've collected, but I had no idea until I cracked it that we were in for such a lovely surprise! Added to that, the fresh buttermilk made those pancakes extra tasty. What a treat to have such good ingredients available to make my family's food!
Luke helped the boys water our "garden" on Sunday and came in laughing, telling me that Big Boy B had something to show me. Our conversation went something like this:
BBB: Mama, mama, mama! Come here, come here!
Me: Okay... what do you want to show me?
BBB: Look! Look what I found when I helped Daddy water the plants!
Me: Well, it looks like they're doing okay...
BBB: Look! Our plant laid a green bean!
Yes, that's right folks... our green bean plant has one measly green bean on it. The plants that Big Boy B himself planted seem to be thriving; we think he's found the one spot in the yard that gets enough sun to sustain a garden. While we're still not sure exactly what he planted, we think it might be a cucumber, with a pumpkin nearby. After seeing Uncle John's garden on Sunday evening, the leaves seem to be similar in shape to his plants. I suppose only time will tell, though.
In the meantime, I can content myself with the one green bean that our plant has lain.
In his birthday suit, of course, because how else would a boy spend his first birthday than playing naked on the back porch? Happy birthday Baby Boy! (Um... well... a little belatedly, because your Mama missed the actual day.)
Luke took the big boys to the lumber store on Saturday to purchase some wood for a missions project our church is doing. The boys love going to the lumber store; they've been known to insist on wearing their tool belts, loaded to the fullest extent, on these trips. The guys behind the counter love it when they come in and make sure to include the boys in their conversations, just like "one of the guys."
While the order was being totaled up on Saturday, Big Boy B was still talking with the men behind the counter. (No surprise there... he actually talked so much yesterday that he's now hoarse.) Anyway, he was going through the whole litany of who is in the family starting with, "This is my Daddy, and I have a brother named Baby Boy, and this is my other brother Big Boy A."
Big Boy A took this opportunity to pipe up with, "Yeah! And we have a mom named Mama!"
After lots of chuckling by all of the men, they reminded the boys not to forget that and make sure to mind their Mama.
If you're on facebook, or live in the Pacific Northwest, you've likely received an invitation to join the "You know you're from Seattle if..." group or seen it in an e-mail. It has such pithy quotes as, "You know you're from Seattle if you know what the word 'sunbreak' is and look forward to its occurrence." Last night, we had a chance to add one of our own to that list...
You know you're from Seattle if your children play "Barista" with Daddy's Starbucks card when he gets home from work and hand you a drink saying, "Here's your hot mocha with whip cream."