awful

The weather today: plain awful! It is blowing and raining and it is dreary and all I want to do is curl up in front of a fire and read. It's as if the weather gods just realized that they had been ignoring the Pacific Northwest and now they are concentrating their efforts to make up for lost time. Message to weather gods, "We notice you, now kindly move on. Please."

Resolution-ish

Lunch near Sacre Coeur, a photo by Tamara Irminger on Flickr.

I’m definitely not a “New Year’s resolution” person. I’m more of a meddler and tinkerer and if in March I feel the urge to set some goals and prioritize, then I’ll do it then. That being said, I love the first day of January and the ritual of putting a blank calendar on the wall. Knowing that I have a fresh calendar with no appointments or commitments penciled in feels so liberating. Of course, it doesn’t take long for each day to end up with some sort of scribble on it, so the freshness doesn’t last long, and thus I’ve learned to savor the first day of a new year, knowing that its sweetness is short lived, but the potential grand. If there is any New Year’s Day ritual I celebrate, it is the fact that I try to sit and reflect upon the recently concluded year and take stock of its highlights. I noticed in last year’s blog that I committed myself to noticing one “odd moment of beauty” per day. I totally forgot that I had started out 2011 by recording such moments and so I thought I should rekindle that effort in 2012. I do remember the positive effects it had and I think the only reason I ceased recording my daily musings was because we moved to Paris, and quite honestly, every moment there seemed like an odd moment of beauty and it was too difficult in choosing just one.

So how would I summarize 2011? In a word—magnifique! That little seed that Jim and I planted so many years ago about wanting to pull the boys out of 8th grade so we could focus on travel, actually grew into a realized dream in 2011. While our initial dreaming had us traveling for an entire year, the reality was that three months was the more appropriate number. I’d like to consider it our stepping-stone year for the other worldly adventures that lie ahead. It’s funny how sometimes you get what you’re most ready for, and I think that three months was really the perfect amount of time away. A year would have been almost destructive to us in regards to being away from our businesses that long, but three months was just right. I wrote a lot about our time in Paris in prior blogs so I don’t need to re-hash some of those particulars here, but I will say that as our time in France recedes into the nooks and crannies of my memory, the impression that remains is integrity and ease. Our life up until the point of departure was utter chaos, the timing to leave when we did was by no means our ideal, but we also knew that it was “now or never” and so we did. We left our newly re-located business in the hands of a tiring manager, we left our house and pet care in the hands of a teenage neighbor, we left all of the familiarities and comforts of home for three months of who knew what, and we were rewarded beyond measure as a result. In many ways deciding to up and leave for a three-month sabbatical was a lot like putting up a fresh calendar. We had a blank slate in front of us and it was entirely up to us as to how we’d scribble in the details. It wasn’t that our life in Paris was effortless, it was more that we were able to savor the sweetness of discovery and time together as a family. While we make a concerted effort to carve out plenty of time together while state-side, the reality is that even when we’re together we’re still being pulled in 1,000 different directions. It’s as if our attention is funneled through a prism and we are scattered in our thoughts and conversations. Sometimes it takes being out of your normal patterns to realize just how fractured your seemingly normal, healthy life really is. Our time in Paris moved much more slowly and softly. We weren’t rushed or hurried and there were no demands on us. We were in complete charge of our time. If we felt like visiting a museum or art gallery, we did. If we felt like wandering the streets without a destination, we did. If we wanted a bottle of wine at lunch, we drank. There were weeks when we were enrolled in language courses and so we had to awake at a certain hour and were expected to complete our homework, but even so, we wove these obligations into our day seamlessly. Yes, the many sights of Paris and all around France wowed us, but what lingers isn’t le tour Eiffel or the artifacts inside the Louvre, it was the fact that for three full months we lived fully present and aware and open. Is this possible to do here, maybe, but I’d argue it takes the discipline of a monk. Believe me, I’d love to say “not now” when an oven goes down or when an employee phones in sick, but I can’t, or maybe I just haven’t figured out how to be Zen in my every-day life. I’m more like the wild-eyed lady muttering to herself with curlers in her hair out in public. Living in France was like taking those curlers out and actually doing my hair before going out it in public.

France was only three months of our year, the rest of it had to do with re-entry and adjusting to the boys returning to a bricks-and-mortar school for 9th grade. In order to facilitate travel they had to enroll in an on-line school for 8th grade and while they missed out on the camaraderie of their social group, I selfishly enjoyed having them around all day long. It definitely took a while to get used to returning to the rushing around in the morning to get them off to school on time, and then not seeing them until 7:30 in the evening after they were finally done with their extra-curricular activities. We went from being around each other 24/7 to barely seeing them at all. Besides my lamenting this fact, Quinn and Logan are doing exceedingly well in school, sports and their other pursuits. Not that I doubted for a moment that they wouldn’t, but I think way back in the recesses of my mind I wondered if pulling them away from their peers for a year and then having them bottle up with me and Jim in a small Parisian apartment would have any negative ramifications. It appears that the answer is no. Phew.

What’s in store for us in 2012? Who knows? We have a number of ideas/options brewing, but as of yet they are still zygotes of a thought. I do know us well enough to know that we’ll travel and work and play—all in equal measure. I also know that I’d like life to move with some of the ease we experienced while in France. How I’ll do this, I haven’t given much thought to other than it probably starts with taking the curlers out and doing my hair. It’s a start and most of us know that all journeys begin with the first step. Happy 2012! May the steps you’re taking today be on the path that you hope to be on at year’s end.

Christmas Lists

Even though I am a total and admitted crank around the holidays (mostly because of all the bad music that is played) I do look forward to Quinn and Logan's christmas lists. In year's past they've asked for wood dowels, duct tape, garden stakes and other obvious kid-friendly items. Even though they are getting older and the lists are less game/toy heavy, there are still some gems. For example, "the Clapper." I kid you not, Quinn has that on his list this year, because how cool would it be to walk into your room, clap loudly and voila -- the lights are on! What will inventors think of next? A way to brown and crisp your bread?! So without further ado, here are the wish-lists for 2011 written exactly as they were submitted to Jim and me.

Logan:
1. Mouse for computer
2. Clothes (socks also)
3. ipod speakers
4. itunes cards
5. shoes ?
6. trip to Mt. Hood Meadows
7. More cargo shorts
8. Paintball Palace trip

Quinn:
Version:1.0 StartHTML:0000000203 EndHTML:0000010022 StartFragment:0000002311 EndFragment:0000009986 SourceURL:file:///Users/tamarairminger-underwood/Library/Mail%20Downloads/Christmas%20list-4.doc

http://www.gifts.com/christmas/top-picks/teen/pe6L2URpa

1.Itunes gift cards

2.new slim jeans

3.new plaid shirts

4.xbox 360

5.gift cards to Movie Theater

6.new ski jacket

7.money!!!!!!!

8.ipod speakers!!!!: http://www.urbanoutfitters.com/urban/catalog/productdetail.jsp?id=21360698&cm_mmc=Performics-_-Affiliates-_-Gifts.com%20-%20Affiliate-_-Primary&clickid=0004b4040fb3684c0a4286a3230b4914

9.new wii controller

10.mechanical pencils

11.wii games

12.speakers for computer

13. watch

14.ipod nano watch holders

15. bucky balls

16. 17. new earbuds for ipod (skullcandy)

18.LEGO architect set (space needle)

19.classic arcade machine

20.”oversized beanbag chair”

21.casual watch: http://www.urbanoutfitters.com/urban/catalog/productdetail.jsp?id=24086753&cm_mmc=Performics-_-Affiliates-_-Gifts.com%20-%20Affiliate-_-Primary&clickid=0004b40404c2f79b0a425186124521c2

22.”clapper” for lights

You'll notice that Quinn actually provided links to some of the items on his wish list! Logan asked this morning to see what was on Quinn's list, as he had hand-written his and was pretty sure he was forgetting things. Sure enough, after reading Quinn's he asked if he could modify his already submitted list. Good thing they're leaving us plenty of time...Happy Holidays to everyone, whatever it is you celebrate this time of year!

Snuggie

Today is one of those days that if I owned a Snuggie, I'd be cuddled up in it right now. It is pouring down rain and really all I want to do is sip tea and read. Of course, that isn't on my agenda at all as we are needing to hit the road in less in a few hours to head to my parents for Thanksgiving. Before we leave there is still packing to be done, fish to feed, laundry, and payroll checks to be written. Which is precisely why I am now deciding to write a blog entry after not having done so in months. This folks, is what procrastination looks like. Fortunately I didn't develop such habits until after graduating from university.

Actually, I wish I hadn't procrastinated on keeping this blog-thing going because there is much to write about, but when so much gets back logged, it seeps out in totally convoluted ways and the end result is nothing like I want it to be. What stories could be so interesting you ask? Well, there is the whole identity thing we're witnessing Quinn and Logan go through as twins. Super fascinating. Then there is contemplating a relocation to a different country. Another great story. The new chapter of adolescence that the boys have entered. Wow, is that good material. Will I touch on any of those right now? No. I'll instead fill this page with dribble. Sorry. I promise I will get to the good stuff, and sooner than later. In the meantime, I'll leave you with a teaser.

Identity:
As a non-twin, I can only imagine what it would be like to have an identical twin. Actually, when I was younger my good friend Simone and I would play that we were identical twins. Our play names where Lisa and Lacey (can you tell we were children of the 70s!) We were absolutely fascinated by the idea of going through life with another person who looked just like you! We thought that if we could be such good friends without being related, imagine what being part of an identical pair would be like. Eventually we grew out of those make-believe games, but my fascination with twins didn't wane much, so imagine my surprise when I found out I was pregnant with twins. Actually, I was more stunned than surprised, but that is a whole other story.

The Cliff-notes version of the boys years from birth through pre-adolescence has been one of sameness with moments of trying to be individuals. Now that they've hit full-blown adolescence, where their identities are really taking shape, we're yet again fascinated with how they try to differentiate themselves from one another. For the first time in their young lives they are pursuing different activities. Up until now they've both been involved in either fencing or ballet. In one of the many books we've read on twins, we learned that it isn't unusual for identical twins to pursue similar interests. They are, after all, genetically identical, which is why they often have the same interests, especially when young.

Logan decided at the beginning of this school year to discontinue dance and instead joined the Rowing club. I would like to take a momentary break and give a shout-out to all those families who have kids of different ages involved in different sports. It's a total pain in the ass to need to be in one place for one kid and in another place for the other, usually at the same time, because that is how the universe likes to mess with you, and I admire those families who have figured out how to be in two places at the same time. Okay, back to main story. So Logan is enjoying crew and this autumn the crew teams traveled all around the Pacific Northwest for regattas. On one of our drives home from a regatta we asked Logan what he thought about doing something without Quinn around. He responded that it was okay, but mostly it was weird because people knew him as just Logan, not LoganQuinn. He elaborated that he'll ask his teammates if they know who he is, and after giving him a quizzical look they'll reply, "Yeah, you're Logan, why?" He said that his entire life he's had to explain that he is Logan and NOT Quinn. Or he's constantly having to say which one he is because people ask, "Are you Logan or Quinn?" Logan said it feels a little weird to not have to go into any further detail about who he is, he's just Logan, end of story. The following weekend we traveled to another regatta and this time we made Quinn join us so he could see what his brother was doing and be supportive. Apparently no one on the crew team knew that Logan was a twin because all morning different teammates kept going up to Quinn (thinking he was Logan) and telling him he needed to get in uniform and be down at the boats. Quinn was relaying these funny stories to me and another mom and was in the middle of telling us about one kid who actually started eating food off his plate, at which point the coach came up to him and said, "Logan I need you down at the boat now, you're on the water in 10 minutes!" I think this is when I snorted coffee out my nose from laughing so hard.

So this is what the boys are going through. They are figuring out how to stand on their own without the constant security of the other around. I am happy they are starting to practice this now and not experience separation for the first time when they go away to college (assuming they go to different universities.) Also, you read about those socially awkward adult twins who still live together in their 70s and never married and just have cats and birds. Not that I think Quinn and Logan would ever tolerate living together that long, but hey, if they don't know how to be apart, it could happen. Funny stories aside, I do wonder what it is like to go through some of the most challenging formative years as an identical twin. On the one hand I think it could make it easier, and on the other, even more difficult. The age old question of "Who am I?" becomes even more spotlighted as an identical twin. I will say that even as the mother of identical twins, I am still equally fascinated and mystified by twins and can't believe the good karma points I accrued somewhere to have the privilege of parenting twins. Even though I still call Logan Quinn and Quinn Logan, I know that they each stand on their own but have the comfort of the other, just like a Snuggie.

Missing

I have instances throughout my day where I will think of a moment, or street scene, or smell while we lived in Paris and I am nearly crippled with longing to return. I miss walking on the uneven cobble stone streets to do my daily shopping. I miss walking across the Pont Alexandre III (bridge) and watching the many people lazing in the park or playing petanque. I miss the cheese and wine and bread. I miss the language. I miss our apartment. I miss the convenience of the metro. I guess, it really comes down to I miss Paris and I cannot wait to go back to my heart's home...

Cyst

Well, the biopsy results are in and all is well. The lump was nothing more than a cyst with absolutely no abnormalities. Phew. In reading up on cysts, I discovered that having a biopsy was probably overkill, as the cyst could have simply been aspirated and that would be that. I understand the prudence of the health-care industry, but I do wonder if the fear of a lawsuit is really what drives the decision-making process. Of course, it is nice to have the assurance of a biopsy, but the trauma to my breast from the whole procedure was not insubstantial. The biopsy itself wasn't painful, but the swelling and bruising and soreness for the three days following the procedure was not at all pleasant. Regardless, the best way to detect any abnormalities in one's breast tissue is to perform regular self breast exams. So please, ladies, cop a feel and get to know your breasts, you're the first line in defense for cancer prevention.

The Girls

Over the past year a local health group has participated in an ad campaign to raise awareness for breast cancer and breast cancer detection. While I absolutely support the efforts, I do find their message of referring to women's breasts as "the girls" annoying. It goes right along with not naming other anatomical parts and giving them goofy names. I mean really, what is so scary about the word "vagina?" So these ads imploring women to "take time for the girls" i.e. feel them up and get to know them sort of irritated me. Now I know that it is important to give oneself monthly breast exams and I am about as regular at self-exams as I am taking vitamins, which if you looked in my vitamin cabinet and found my calcium pills having expired back in 2008, you'd be able to easily deduce that A.) I don't take my vitamins, or at least not my calcium, regularly and B.) I am equally haphazard about breast-exams. I've never been concerned about being regular about monthly breast checks because there is no history of breast cancer in either side of my family and I'm not yet 40 and still feel as if I have 100 years of life ahead of me.

Call me stupid.

The other week as I was lying in bed I randomly decided to feel for lumps and bumps, which I will say for small-breasted women can be accomplished in less than 45 seconds. As I was feeling around I came across a very noticeable lump. This was enough of a lump that I asked Jim to feel to see if he thought it was unusual, since he feels my breasts more than anyone else. (Yeah, not only am I not afraid of the word "vagina" I'm now publicly declaring that my husband feels me up!) He too thought it was out of the norm and the next day I phoned my OB/GYN for an appointment. Well, that appointment happened Friday morning and by Friday afternoon my chart read STAT and I had both a mammogram AND a sonogram done. Here is a disclaimer for mammograms: they don't hurt, contrary to what you might hear. I asked Jim to come with me because I knew that if the news was bad I wanted to have him there for both support, but also because Jim is a total ninja in the face of crisis or chaos. I knew he would be able to ask the right questions in case I was reeling. After an agonizing wait of 20 minutes the "patient navigator" asked us into her office. I knew that since I wasn't just being sent home and was asked instead to sit with the navigator, my day wasn't over. The radiologist came in and explained that yes there is a lump, which was no surprise since anyone who goes near my left boob can feel it, and until it is biopsied, we won't know if it's a thumbs up or thumbs down. I do have a few things going for me. One is that while there is no history of breast cancer in my families, I do come from a line of women with "dense breasts." Basically our breast tissue is so protein dense and lumpy that mammograms are somewhat ineffective. With this type of tissue, breast cysts are more "normal" and are often benign. Obviously, I'm hoping for this scenario. On a gut-level I feel this is the case, so I'm not spending too much time worrying or fretting. I go in for a biopsy this Wednesday and by Friday we'll have the results. Why am I going into this detail here on this blog? Because I think many of us think, "not me" and we treat our own health like I've treated mine, a little haphazardly. Also, I'm young, I'm in great shape, I eat well, I'm thin and I guess I just can't even imagine that something like this could happen to me, but here I am crossing my fingers and hoping for the best. So in a way this is my own public service announcement. Make time for your breasts, or girls, or titties, or boobies or whatever you want to call them, because you just never know...