Oh Say, Can You See...

The Fourth of July was a fun one around the Pruetz house. The day started out with threatening clouds and a couple of showers of rain (which, as you know from my last post, has become pretty commonplace around here!). We worried a little about our plans getting ruined, but true-to-form, the rain was kept at bay for a good fireworks show after dark.

Our friends Jennifer and Jesse, and their kiddos Amanda and Andrew, came over, along with Sylvia, Morris and their son Andrew. The only family missing from our usual group was Destiny and Steve and their son, whose name is....you guessed it: Andrew. Do you sense a theme here? Out of our little group, 75% of the couples have a son named Andrew. Weird, huh?

Anyway, we started the fun out doing some smoke bombs on the driveway. All of the neighbors came out, too, with their fireworks and the kids invented a new game: Todd, Morris and Jesse would light a smoke bomb and roll it down the street toward the storm drain. All of the kids would try to stop it from going into the drain by kicking it, stepping on it or somehow otherwise diverting it. You would have thought this was the Super Bowl -- they all had a blast.

We cooked burgers and hot dogs, drank beer and watched the kids foam at the mouth as darkness fell around us and the real fireworks came out.

We put the girls down just before we started the show, but not before Todd and I noticed that Faith felt warm. She had just finished her ten-day round of antibiotics that morning, so certainly she couldn't have a baceterial infection -- could she?

Sure enough, the poor baby had a 101.6 fever. Break out the Tylenol.

We got the babies down and started the fireworks. We bought little people-friendly fireworks, but our neighbors with older kids bought some really good ones. As our neighbor, Susan, says, "The shooty-uppy kind." And I'll bet you all know what she's talking about, don't you? Sad, but true. Shooty-uppy kind says it all!

So it was a night of sparklers, fountains, little tanks and chickens that lay eggs. There were roman candles, shooty-uppy fireworks and "screamers" -- those fireworks that shoot little balls of fire into the air while making a shreiking sound. Devin was not impressed by those. :)

The smoke bomb soccer game, in progress


The neighborhood kids watch Jessie light a "snake." Obviously, Devin was unaware that they don't make any noise


Andrew M. and Macy


Macy strikes a pose


Me and Devin


Dale, Nate, Susan (in background), Kurt and Emily


Shooty-uppy fireworks!

I love the Fourth of July -- it just makes my heart swell with pride. What an amazing country we live in. It's not perfect and I'll continue to question our government on many things. But I try to remember just how lucky I am whenever I go to church, meet up with my friends or express my own opinions. Such rights aren't rights to everyone in the world and I have to remember that I am as lucky as can be for living where I do.

On Thursday morning, I called the pediatrician's office and got Faith in to see our doctor at 10:00. Sure enough, the ear infection that she had suffered from only ten days earlier had never cleared up (despite the regimen of antibiotics). Her poor ear was still bulging and painful. A prescription for Amoxil and we're (hopefully) on the road to recovery.

More updates to come.

Blessings to you.

Greetings from the Bottom of the Ocean

We've seen a lot of rain around here. A LOT. It's been a particularly rainy year here in San Antonio, where we have had more rain in the first six months of the year than we get on average in an entire year. Compare that with the last two years where we have had major drought conditions that lead to water restrictions and blistering temperatures and you've got one wild weather pattern.

Luckily, it's really kept our temperatures down. By this time of year, our temperatures are usually in the mid- to high-nineties with heat indexes of over 100 degrees. It's usually downright miserable and while the humidity here has been pretty nasty lately, we've only had highs in the high-eighties. The idea of temperatures being in the eighties during summertime in South Texas is absurd, and yet we're living it. It's fantastic!

All this rain, though, has caused some major problems. Just up the road from us, near where we vacationed at Lake LBJ last year, in Marble Falls, there have been major flooding issues that made it onto the likes of CNN and the CBS Evening News. Nearly 15 people have died in all of this, as our ground is so saturated that any rain that falls can't be absorbed into the ground and has to find alternate places to go. In a hilly place like San Antonio and the rest of the Texas Hill Country, running water can become very dangerous very quickly.

Last Thursday, it started raining around 7:30 in the morning. And I mean pouring. You know those storms that you get that dump an inch of rain in a half-an-hour and then clear out? Well that was the kind of storm that we had, only it didn't clear out for nearly 12 hours. It just poured and poured and poured without stop. Thursday alone, we got around six inches here in my neighborhood.

Today started out with a nice morning, but this afternoon the sky began to darken and the wind started to blow. Sure enough, the sky opened up and dumped another hour's worth of pouring rain on our city. Our across-the-street neighbor, Kurt, measured three-and-a-half inches in just over an hour. Yowza.

As it was coming down, I was looking out our front windows. True to form, our next-door-neighbor, Zach (14 years) was running around, enjoying the downpour. When it's not thundering or lightening, the kids on our street just love to play in the rain.

I saw a person following Zach and assumed it was Dillon, Zach's ten-year-old brother. But I looked more closely and realized that the bathing-suit clad person wasn't Dillon, but rather Billy, Zach and Dillon's dad.

I laughed out loud at the site of the grown man playing the rain and Todd asked what I was laughing at. I told him and BOOM! quicker than lightening, he had gone upstairs and come back down wearing his swim trunks and holding Devin's. Dev quickly dressed into his trunks and out the two of them ran into the pouring rain, to meet up with Zach and Billy.

You have never seen a group of kids (that word includes the adults out there, since they were just as bad as the kids, if not worse) have so much fun. The water rushed down the steep hill on our short cul-de-sac and made little rivers in our front yard and rapids near the storm drain at the end of the street.

Kurt and his five-year-old son, Nate, and eight-year-old Daughter, Emily, joined in the fun and I was able to catch a few pictures of the melee.

Hans and Franz (we know them better as Todd and Billy)


Zach surfs down our street


The photo doesn't do it justice, but this area of water was actually flowing with a small area of rapids and everything. It was quite a site.


Water running down our across-the-street neighbor's steps


Kurt gives Todd his weekly hose-down


Todd and Emily down near the storm drain. The water was about five inches deep after only 20 minutes of rain.

As far as the rest of the family goes, all is well. Last week I had to take the girls into the pediatrician's office to seek out the cause of fevers they both woke up with on Sunday afternoon. Sure enough, they both had double ear infections. We went through this with Devin and as Todd put it, "Break out the ENT's number -- we're getting tubes!" I'm sure we're heading down that road.

Faith's second tooth has finally shown up and Gracie's second tooth (her first one appeared when we were in Galveston on June 7) is trying to break through. Poor girls...I know it can't feel good.

Devin is quickly coming upon his 4th birthday and every day I have to convince him that, "No, today is not your party," and, "If we show up at Inflatable Wonderland they will not just spontaneously throw you a party. We can't have the party until the 14th, when we have it scheduled." Reasoning with a three-year-old ain't easy.

We're looking forward to the Fourth of July and are hoping that the rain holds off at least a little while so we can do some fireworks.

And Finally...Devin's Doozie

Tonight we are spending family time together in the living room, with Todd and Devin playing and me typing. We have "Titanic" on TV and Devin goes in and out of being interested in it. The idea of a ship sinking piques his interest, but the movie as a whole is a bore to him.

A moment ago, he asked Todd, "When is this thing gonna sink?!?"

Everything You've Ever Said (Or Will At Some Point...)

This is for my mommy friends, those who will some day be moms and even for the occassional stay-at-home dad out there (Kurt Berkes, that's for you...).

Take the time to watch. You will not be disappointed.

Cathing Up with the Pruetz Family

This week has been an exciting one in the Pruetz house. With the addition of our latest four-legged friend, we've spent a lot of time outside, teaching the canine to "do her business" in the grass instead of in our formal living room. It's a work in progress.

Tuesday the girls went back to see Dr. Trexler, since they were not able to get their one-year immunizations at their last appointment due to the double ear infections they both had.

Both girls were weighed, with Faith coming in at 17 pounds even and Grace at 17 pounds, 7 ounces. Faith is 26.5 inches and Grace is 26 inches. This marks the first time Faith is longer than Grace!

Both of the girls rank under the 5th percentile, still, when corrected back. They are continuing to gain weight at a regular rate, but Dr. T was hoping that they would have "caught up" by now. She's a little concerned about how small they still are, especially considering how much they eat! (As a side note, we went to Chuck E. Cheese with the MOMS Club on Monday and a fellow mom stopped by our table just to tell me that she'd never seen such small being eat so much food. I had to return to the salad bar three times!). We're going to keep an eye on them and have the twins weighed again in a month. Their slowed recent weight gain may be because of being sick for so long...

Tuesday was also Todd's 39th birthday. After our marathon doctor's appointment -- things take so much longer when there are two -- we came home and put the twins to bed. The combination of being up at 6:30 that morning, thanks to our barking dog, missing their morning nap, getting shots and taking Tylenol to ease the pain meant a four-and-a-half hour snooze for both girls.

During that time, Devin and I prepared for Daddy's celebration. We made a chocolate marble cake and frosted it with fudge icing. Then Devin decorated it with various colors and forms of sprinkles. He had a really good time both decorating the cake and sampling his wares.

Diabetic coma, anyone?


Strategically placed candles (the strategy is still a mystery, but apparently there was some)

Around 3:30 the girls got up from their naps and Todd's parents arrived. They just love our kids and immediately got down on the floor to play with them. Here is Dorothy, the baby whisperer, with the girls.


Grace is standing and Faith is sitting in Dorothy's lap


Grace, Dorothy and Faith

We had Todd's favorite dinner of pollo rellano, spanish rice and bean-and-corn salad with salsa dressing. We ate in the dining room on the good china and enjoyed good conversation and fun.

We opened gifts and Todd got a CD and some cash from his parents, a DVD and an iPod from me and the kids, and an iPod stereo/speaker system from ZZ. He raked it in!

We dug into the cake and ended our night. It was a fun time and I think we ushered in Todd's 40th year of life in style.

Since then, we've just been hanging around the homestead. We've been trying out some gyms around here for Devin to take gymnastics. There is one very close to our house, but it's a gym for serious gymnasts and not for little boys who need to run off some energy. If Devin wants to compete when he's older, we'll probably go to that one, but for now, we're enrolled at Flip City where Devin is learning to do handstands, back walkovers and other fundamentals of gymnastics. He's loving it and we're very happy with our new activity.

Soon he will start Vacation Bible School and then a summer program at a local church. He's very much looking forward to both.

The girls are being as cute as ever. Their latest trick is to put their hands way up above their heads when you say, "Ta da!" to them. It's hysterical and they are a hit at any gathering.

They've also discovered the stairs. They actually discovered them a long time ago, but they are just now realizing that they lead somewhere. Faith is completely attracted to them and can hardly control herself. And when Gracie sees what Faith is doing, she is always right behind.


And they're off!


Erin Pruetz: 2007 Mother of the Year
By the way, that's squished banana on Gracie's bottom. I'm not that bad of a mom! :)

And finally, today is a year since the girls came home from the hospital. I recall that day like it was yesterday -- how happy I was and how terrified I was, all at the same time. I look back on the weeks following their arrival and how difficult it was. Neither would sleep for more than a few minutes at a time, especially at night, and everwhere we went, the heartrate monitors had to go with us. They were small, frail and enough to make my head spin. We went weeks with only 90 to 120 minutes of sleep each night...total. That's not uninterrupted.

But I was so happy I couldn't stand it. My girls were safe, they were healthy and they were home. I was drunk with happiness (some of that was lack of sleep, I'm sure) and despite a very bumpy few months, I wouldn't have changed it for the world.

And now, a year later, my girls are beautiful, personality-filled angels who bring me elation every single day. They walk (well, cruise...close enough), they talk, they follow simple directions and they snuggle. They feed themselves, they are best friends and they love a good adventure. Oh the joy they bring me...

Here are some pictures from June 23, 2006.


Faith and Grace - around 5 pounds each


I need a picture of me holding both of them today. It's a much different picture!

Because I Don't Have Enough To Do...

Apparently, I'm bored. I don't actually believe that I am bored, but why else would I do what I have done? Why else would I get a puppy? I have three kids, two of whom are still only crawling and one of whom is about to enter Pre-K...but, for some reason, I believed that I needed a little more to do.

I alluded to it in one of last week's blog entries and yes, it happened. We now have a dog.

I've always loved Welsh Pembroke Corgis (actually, the plural of Corgi is Corgyn...but I refuse to use that. It sounds stupid). I've always thought they were adorable, with the body the size of a Basset Hound, but the legs the length of a Chihuahua. The big, pointy easy and the inquisitive fox-like face have also always gotten to my heart.

We started talking about getting a dog a few months ago, saying that we would put it off until the girls were a year old. Once that date started nearing, we started talking about what we would get. A mutt? A German Shepherd? A Pug? A Corgi?

Of course, my vote was for the Corgi and I started to contact breeders and rescue operations in the area. I didn't get very far until I check the local newspaper one day and found someone in the area who was selling full-bred pups for much less than everyone else wanted.

Todd contacted Debbie, the breeder, and she sent us some photos of her three males and two females. The puppies were so cute and one of them had these big, round eyes with a sad look on her face. I told Todd, "That one looks like Grace!"

He was sold. He told me to break out the check book -- we were going to get a Corgi.

On Thursday, we contacted the breeder and agreed to meet her in Boerne (another Texas Hill Country town whose name is not at all spelled the way it sounds -- Bernie) midway between where she lives in Kerrville and where we live in San Antonio. We were going to meet at the Home Depot on Saturday at 4:00. It was all set.

But I got to thinking about how much fun it would be to surprise Todd when he got home from work on Friday. Wouldn't the look on his face be priceless if he walked in and a puppy met him at the door?

So I called the breeder back and she told me that picking the dog up on Friday would actually be better for her. She said she'd talk to her husband and call me back to let me know what time.

I stuck by the phone all afternoon and evening, worried that Todd might answer it and realize our plan. Finally, I couldn't wait any longer to bathe the kids, so I walked away from the phone for a few minutes.

Wouldn't you know it? The breeder called and left a message, which Todd got. She said, "How does 11:00 on Friday sound?" The gig was up. Todd knew what I was doing, but I guess it's the thought that counts, right?

So I packed up all the kiddos and we drove to Boerne. I got out of the car and took a peek into the bed of the breeder's pickup truck. In a small kennel were two precious puppies -- both girls. One was red and white while the other was a tricolor of red, white and black.

I thought it would be a difficult decision, and it sort of was. But my favorite Corgi is a red and white and there was one right in front of me. I knew I'd found our dog.

I paid for her, got her AKC papers and packed into the car. We drove home and were greeted by a number of our neighbors who wanted to see the latest Pruetz. All afternoon, in fact, we had guests in and out, ready to meet our little fuzzball. She was a big hit!

We named her Zoe and she's a perfect addition to our family. She plays so well with the kids and wants to please us. She's learning the rules and is even doing well with housebreaking. We're crate training her but she's not exactly thrilled about it. She howls a lot at night and sleep has been an elusive thing. Here's to hoping she learns to love her crate...soon.

Corgis are herding dogs and she definitely has the instinct to herd. She nips at the kids heels (and even at Todd's and mine) and "steers" them in the direction she wants them to go by sidling up to them and nudging them. It's pretty cute, although we're trying to curb the nipping, as we don't want her to get too rough with the kids.

Here is a photo of our littel girl, the day we brought her home at eight weeks old.

Our puppy's full American Kennel Club name is Zoe Love Eyes Play Play Nipper Girl

Moving On...

Today was Father's Day and we celebrated how lucky we are to have Todd. We let Daddy sleep until 10:30 and then I went out to get some breakfast tacos (a San Antonio delicacy!). We hung around, played with the kids and the dog and enjoyed the nice, unseasonably cool weather we're having.

Todd grilled steaks tonight while I made mashed potatoes and asapragus. We dined on a real "man's meal" and thanked God for the blessing we have in Todd.

Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there. You're a special breed.

Devin's Doozie

It's been awhile since I've posted one of these, mostly since Devin has so many, I can't keep track of them long enough to write them all down.

But today was an extra-good one that really deserved remembering. It also helps that he only said it a few minutes ago.

After we had finished lunch today, Devin laid down on the floor next to the kitchen table. When I asked what was wrong he said, "I think I ate too much. My legs won't work. I can't walk."

"Oh dear," I said, "I guess we won't get to do any of the fun things we have planned for this weekend." Devin doesn't know it yet, but we're going to likely get a puppy on Saturday.

He replied to me, "Oh...it'll get better."

And then wistfully, with a far-off look in his eyes and with an element of distance to his voice , he said, "It will get better...someday."

I nearly spit Coke out of my nose.

Twins are Interesting

Okay -- that may be the dumbest of all titles. But the truth is -- it's true! As my girls are getting older and more social, I am seeing more and more interesting things about them. These interesting things strike me as interesting because they are so different from what it was like when Devin was this age.

The most striking of all of the things I've noticed is their need for me. I'm the mommy and they need me for a lot of things -- for assurance and support and love and diaper changes and all of the other things that come with mommyhood.

But one thing they really don't need me for is playtime. They don't need me because they have one another. Just last week, I sat on the floor and both girls immediately crawled over to me. Faith crawled into my lap as Gracie stood next to me, holding onto my shoulder. We laughed, snuggled and played for a moment, but soon the twins got tired of me and found one another more interesting. Before I knew it, the girls were sitting next to me, playing while I sat and looked on.

Now that it's at the top of my mind, I see this happen so often. They cry when the other twin leaves the room, not when I leave the room. They light up when they see the other. They speak their own little language as they sit directly across from one another and pat one another's heads, tickle one another's feet and just enjoy being in the company of their sister.

I wasn't any sort of psychology major in college, but I did take a social psych class in which we talked about the dyamic of three. You may not know it by this particular name, but you've undoubtedly experienced it at some point in your life.

Can you recall a time that you invited your two very best friends over to play? And, at some point, the other two ganged up on you? Most likely, they left you out of a game or conversation or they told you that whatever they were doing only involved two people and you'd have to wait your turn. A turn that never came.

Well...when it comes to my girls, I'm the third. I'm the kid who gets left out of the game, never to recieve a turn. I'm on the outside looking in.

It breaks my heart a little, because I have so many plans for the three of us. Are they going to help one another pick out clothes for their first dates (when they're 30) without me? Will they turn to one another for advice and not me? Oh sigh...

But in the grand scheme of things, I am so very happy about this. My girls are best friends. At only one year old, they already turn to one another before anyone else. They love one another's company and even find ways to communicate with each that is far beyond anything that we can understand. I really do love it, despite a little ping in my heart when I get left out of the group.

Such is life with twins, I guess.

My Summer Vacation...

Last Wednesday, the three kids and I left San Antonio and headed to the island town of Galveston, a coastal town south of Houston for a family holiday.

I grew up in Galveston. Well, on a penninsula just east of Galveston, in Crystal Beach...but that's not really the point.

The point is, that I have been going to Galveston my entire life. My parents and grandparents owned a house down there, right on the water, and we'd spend endless days there during the summer.

The house wasn't much to speak of. Built the year I was born, in 1976, it had the basic comforts of home. Electricity (although after Hurricane Alicia in 1983, the electricity only worked sporadically), a full kitchen (a tricky fridge couldn't be held open for more than a few seconds, though, as it would lose its temperature), a long dining bar, a couple of bedrooms and a front porch that spanned the width of the house.

We didn't have a phone or a TV. We had a microwave for awhile, but again, Hurricane Alicia did her number on it and after that, we just kept it around as a bread box.

The linoleum was orange and yellow and was throughout the whole house. The only bathroom was done in a lovely shade of avocado green (indcluding the toilet!). We did have a bathroom downstairs (the house was one story, but was on stilts and had a storage room on the bottom level), but the toilet was reserved for my dad and grandpa and the stall shower was a breeding ground for praying mantises and other creepy crawlies.

We had a few ceiling fans, but my tall grandad (tall by my midget-sized family's standards, at least) stretched a few too many times and knocked off a couple of blades, so none of the fans were complete. One fan only had one blade. What was the point???

The barstools made hideous creaking noises, as they had premarturely rusted in the salty, humid air. The windows stuck in the moist environment and the air conditioning worked much less than 50 percent of the time.

I know it doesn't sound like it, but our beach house was heaven on earth.

My happiest memories were spent in that house, doing nothing and doing it well.

Mornings would bring me out of the room I shared with my sister and onto the porch where my mom and dad would be sitting, hand in hand, just chatting. The smell of coffee was stronger at the beach, somehow, and I still can't inhale the scent without it taking me back for a moment or two.

We'd have breakfast and harrass my dad to take us to the water slide. This slide was absolutely nothing compared to today's standards, but to us as kids, it was wet, cold and fun...all we needed during a Texas summer.

After the slide would be a snow cone at the adjacent shack and then back to the house for lunch.

A good nap always followed (something about the beach always made us sleep so well) and then we'd head down to the water to play in the surf, build a castle and collect sea shells.

Back at the house was the traditional chips and dips and to this day, Fritos and cream cheese is still an absolute delicacy to me.

Mom and Nana (her mom) would begin with dinner, which was usually burgers grilled by Dad and Poppa (mom's dad), baked beans and some freshly sliced tomatoes with salt and pepper.

But the best part of the day was after dinner. As the sun began to set, relieving the beach of the blistering heat of the day, we would set out for our nightly walk. As cooler breezes blew in, it was almost as though you could feel the world renewing itself, settling down for the night and resting before taking on another day.

I must have walked up and down Crystal Beach a thousand times with my mom, dad, sister and grandparents...but I never remember getting bored. It was the same houses, seaweed, the same driftwood, but somehow, it was always intriguing.

After a good, long stretch of the legs, we'd return back to the house for some quiet time on the porch. Just us, sitting, talking and laughing in the night breeze. In August, we'd watch the Leonid Meteor Shower and when we weren't doing that, we were singing or telling stories. My dad would often sing Mo Bandy's, "Cowboy's Ain't Supposed to Cry," and I'd immediately burst into tears. To this day, at age 31, I still can't help but get teary-eyed when I hear it. If you were at my wedding, you know what I mean.

We'd all get into our bed, sleep to the lullabye of the waves crashing only feet away and wake up only to do it all over again.

It was bliss. It was perfect. It was the very best part of my childhood, along with every Christmas Eve I can remember. Of the six of us (my family, plus my grandmother and grandfather), three are gone and the house was sold when I was in high schoo. But my family and our beach house all live in my heart and I am reunited with them every time I visit Galveston.

So taking my kids down down there was very special for me. We went two years ago, when Devin was two, and it was wonderful then. But adding a couple more children to the legacy of my youth makes it even better.

We joined my dad, stepmom, her four daughters and their families (for a total of 20!) in Galveston for a few days of fun. We spent a lot of time at the resort pool and beach club and lounged in the sun, grilled out and slept in (sort of).

Todd was only able to take Friday off, so he flew into Houston after work on Thursday and it was great to be reunited with him. The kids just loved seeing him, of course...as did I.

We took turns taking Devin to the pool and to the beach while one of us stayed with the girls during their nap times. It gave each of us some good, quality time with Devin while the other got some quiet time back at the house. It worked out well.

The girls, however, were not impressed with their new environment and barely slept the whole time we were there. Todd and I had a balconey off of our bedroom and we took turns rocking the girls to sleep out there, hoping the ocean's dull roar would do the trick. It did and while I was pretty tired the whole time I was there (their need for rocking usually came around 3:00 a.m.!), I couldn't help but love holding my little ones in my arms, just as my mom and dad did with me when I was little.

Saturday night we grilled out at the pool and afterwards, as the girls got sleepy, my dad offered to take them home while Todd, Devin and I stayed back. He said, "Go take a walk on the beach. It's important."

He's right. A walk on the beach doesn't sound like much more than a nice idea, but the fact of the matter is, it's a part of my history and something my family did without fail every night we were down in Galveston. It meant so much to me that Devin, Todd and I were able to walk along the surf as a family and that I got to pass along that legacy. I can't wait to go back when the girls are old enough to go, too.

My dad knows me really well and I appreciate his thoughtfulness so much.

We returned, tired and crispy, yesterday afternoon. It seems that Faith and Grace are getting back into a good routine and Devin looks like he just arrived from Hawaii or something -- he's so tan!

My ankle is feeling much better, although it still hurts when I overdo it or twist around too quickly. I'm staying away from the Vicodin, too. ;)

Here are some photos, courtesy of my dad. I had some others of the rest of the family that I wanted to put in here, but I couldn't get my computer to cooperate. So here are just a few of the many.

Dad got into a picture! He's usually the one behind the camera!


Gracie


Kaelin


ZZ, Brian and Addison


Faith


Presley and Kaelin


Amanda, Devin and Todd. What is Todd doing to that poor shark? :)

The Rest of the Story

I promised to share the remainder of the my-life-is-better-than-fiction story and here it is.

After we left the ER on Friday, we dropped off my prescription for painkillers. We got home and I realized that I had a painkiller left over from my back problems a couple of months ago, so I took one.

I took a quick nap and we headed out on our way to Yoakum. My foot was hurting pretty badly, so when we picked up my prescription on our way out of San Antonio, I took another pill.

Very, very bad idea.

About 15 miles down the road, I started to feel sick to my stomach. I asked Todd to pull over so that I could get a snack. I figured the medicine wasn't settling well.

I grabbed a bag of Chex Mix and we were on our way.

But the nausea only got worse. And worse. And worse. And...

Urp.

I threw up all over the car. I had a bag to puke into, but I mostly missed and it went all over the car and me. Todd pulled to the side of the road and I hopped out and cleaned up using just about every baby wipe I could find. Todd fished another t-shirt out of the back of the van and after I changed in what may have been the nastiest bathroom ever, we were on our way.

I was feeling much better and even sipped on water. But soon, the waves came again. This time, though, it was much worse. It was like I was as drunk as I've ever been. The ground felt as though it was heaving around me and throwing me from side to side. I couldn't even sit up straight and closing my eyes helped momentarily, but soon gave way to the feeling of being tossed around on a ship in a storm.

We pulled onto the two-lane highway that we take into Yoakum as I tried to keep another round of puking at bay. It wasn't meant to be and this time, the puke came fast and furiously. I didn't even have time to grab a bag. I just motioned for Todd to pull over and roll down the window.

So there I was, at 65 miles an hour, throwing up out the passenger's side window of our Kia minivan.

Of course, at that rate of speed, the projectile does not go straight down, but rather back -- and that means a completely redecorated automobile exterior.

Luckily, that was the end of the vomitting, although we all needed a shower when we got to Todd's parents' house since some of the puke also came into the window and slapped the whole family in their respective faces.

What's the moral in all of this? Narcotic-based painkillers are easy to over-dose on. Take it from me -- you don't want do to this.

The rest of our weekend was good. We saw the Yoakum Tom-Tom parade on Saturday morning and on Saturday afternoon, we went to the festival where we looked at vintage cars, watched weiner dog races and played on the playground. Todd even judged a pork bbq contest!

We headed home on Saturday night and had a nice, relaxing rest of the weekend. So far, so good and no ODing of any kind.

Here are a couple of photos we had done of the kiddos recently. Faith is on the left and Grace is on the right in both photos.

Enjoy!

Me

As the Stomach Churns...

Why the title? Because it seems I'm living in a soap opera, that's why.

Just as the twins finished their antibiotics for ear infections and Devin neared the end of his antibiotics (which, by the way, were so "heavy duty" that our pharmacist told us not to pour it down the sink because it could harm the ecosystem. And I'm putting this in my child's body???), I thought to myself, "Well maybe we'll all be healthy for awhile."

I'm here to warn you: Don't tempt the fates.

Around 10:30 yesterday morning, I took the girls upstairs for their morning naps. As I was coming downstairs to get some work done and spend time with Devin, I misjudged our stairs and took a spill. I slid down a couple of steps (three or four at most) and landed on my bottom without much grace (the virtue, not the child). In the process of doing this, though, I also twisted my right ankle in a way that made it make a crunching noise so loud it echoed.

I yelled. Loudly. Not only out of pain, but out of fear, too. I sat on the stairs and screamed out for a few seconds before I told my very frightened toddler to please bring the me phone. I was panting from the pain and I was very lightheaded, but I managed to call Todd. When he picked up, all I could say was, "Todd, come home. I think I broke my ankle." I hated to look at my ankle, but I did and I was shocked to see how swollen it had gotten so quickly.

My fantastic husband hopped into his car and headed home. At that moment, the phone rang. I saw that it was my friend, Sheena, and I picked it up and told her what was going on. She helped to calm me down and Devin, being the precious little thing that he is, brought me his "boo boo ice pack" from the fridge. I hobbled to one of our living room chairs and sat down. I called my neighbor, Susan, and asked if she could watch the kids while Todd took me to the emergency room. She immediately came over and soon after she arrived, my doorbell rang again. This time, it was my friend Leslie. Leslie had apparently talked to Sheena who had told her what was going on with me. Leslie was in her car, so she rushed over to make sure I was taken care of as I waited for Todd to come home.

You know how I talk all about how I have such incredible friends? This is a perfect example. Susan has three kids, Sheena has three, including a newborn and Leslie has three, also, with a six-month-old. These women are busy with their own lives, but they dropped what they were doing to make sure I was okay. How could I ask for more?

Anyway, Todd got home and we trekked to the emergency room. By the time we got in there, I was feeling pretty sick to my stomach and even a little faint, so I was taken into a room very quickly. Vitals were taken and I was taken in for three x-rays.

Turns out my ankle was not broken, although it was very severly sprained. I was sent home with some Vicodin and a big, ugly brace.

The ankle is still pretty swollen -- in fact, it's more swollen today than it was yesterday. And it hurts pretty badly. I'm a little concerned, truth be told...I've never had a sprain feel this painful.

The weekend goes on from there when we headed to Todd's hometown of Yoakum for their annual Tom-Tom Festival. In my next post, I'll write more about the festival and my not one but two puking incidents in the car ride there.

Sounds like something to really look forward to, huh?

A soap opera. I'm telling you. But you can't make this stuff up...my life is way better than fiction!

Have a great rest of the weekend...

E

Old Friends, New Friends

We have had the best week! On Tuesday, my good friend, Christi, and her son, Connor, came into town. Christi and I have been friends since the 8th grade (which we calculated was 18 years ago...how is that possible? Aren't I only 22 years old? Oh, I'm not?) and while we lost track of one another during college, we reconnected last year and realized that, even after all these years, we still have so much in common, including our three-year-old sons and reciprocal memberships at the Houston and San Antonio zoo.

And all of those points-in-common meant one thing: Road Trip.

Connor and Christi made their way from Houston to San Antonio, arriving in the Alamo City around 2:00 on Tuesday. We introduced the boys and while they got to know one another and play, Christi and I caught up on life in general. We email all the time and saw one another back in November, but there's nothing like being able to sit down on the couch and just talk.

That evening, Todd got home from work and Christi, Connor, Devin and I departed for our double date. We drove downtown to the Riverwalk and decided to party like rock stars -- we dined at the Hard Rock Cafe.

After dinner, we took a walk along the river and took a boat tour of the Riverwalk.

It was late, so we headed home to get a good night's sleep before our big day at the zoo the following day.

We woke up Wednesday morning and had breakfast - my very special Mickey Mouse waffles (this is where Christi said to me, "You all have a Disney problem around here, don't you? I love it!" She really is a girl after my own heart...). My across-the-street neighbor came to babysit Faith and Grace and the four of us were off again for another adventure.

Our zoo membership served us well as we just waltzed in without having to stand in line. Christi and Connor got in for 1/2 price because of their affiliation with the Houston zoo. Not too shabby!

We spent the day oohing and ahhing over all sorts of great animals -- from the pink flamingos and grizzly bears, to the bigest Gila Monster you've ever seen and a tent full of butterflies (Devin did not like that much...he asked to leave. Oh, and ZZ, beware...there is a picture of a big, blue butterfly below).

Christi even bought the boys some temporary tattoos...they thought they were the coolest.

We returned home hot, sweaty and hungry, so we had lunch and the boys played outside.

But all good things must come to an end and Wednesday afternoon, Christi and Connor left to return to Houston to see the rest of their family -- husband and daddy, Shawn, and brother and son, Foster.

We just had the best time. It was great to catch up with Christi and to see our little boys playing so well together was like seeing the circle of life complete itself. Christi and I were friends as kids and now our kids are friends. It was pretty amazing.

Here are some photos from our adventure. Christi is quite the scrapbooker and therefore sees photo opportunities that I would otherwise miss. Thanks for the fun, you two! We can't wait to come see you all!

The boys meet and hit it off immediately


Heading out for our double date


Connor and Christi at the Hard Rock Cafe. Dinner would not have been complete without swash-buckling hats and swords


The boys at the river. Check out Connor's awesome pants. I am going to run out and buy some for Devin. I love them!


At the bear exhibit at the zoo


It would have been better if we could have seen Connor's adorable smile, too, but I couldn't resist posting this one because Devin just looks so cute!


Connor and a gorgeous butterfly. I love this photo...


The boys on the giant Gila Monster sculpture. The live one we saw inside was roughly this big!



We found a really cool pathway of rocks over water! The boys thought it was great!


My tough guy


Connor's a tough guy, too!


Connor's bad-bottom face (c'mon...this is a family blog! What did you expect me to say?)

The Saga of the Size Nine-and-a-Half Foot...

Yes...it continues.

Yesterday, Devin spent most of the day in a Benadryl-induced nap. He dutifully kept his foot up on a pillow and I thought the swelling and redness were going down. I even felt confident enough to go over to my friend Meliza's house to practice for Mass on Sunday (I'm singing this weekend, soloing for the first time since high school. Wish me luck -- I'm nervous!). When I got home, Dev was still up, so I checked on his foot. I was astonished to find that the redness had spread a good half-inch to inch all the way around his foot. I'm no doctor, but I know this isn't good.

So I called Dr. Trexler (thank goodness she was on call last night) and she decided that Devin needed to go to the Emergency Room. I packed the munchkin, along with his favorite stuffed animal and his Buzz Lightyear toy, into the car and headed to the brand new pediatrics emergency room at our local hospital. I was very impressed! The place was awesome.

We were immediately taken to triage and then back to a room. Dr. Trexler had already called in to give them instructions for Devin, so it didn't take long for us to be seen by a doctor. He determined that we'd do just one round of IV antibiotics and be able to go home, barring only bad results from Devin's blood tests like a high white cell count or something of the sort.

Two nurses arrived to put the "straw" in Devin's arm. He was none-too-happy to be poked again and while he did scream bloody murder, he did not move an inch. He stayed perfectly still and they got the IV in easily. Then started the drip and we settled down to watch TV on the flat-panel, HDTV screen in our room. I told you this place was nice!

The drip lasted about 30 minutes and while we were relaxing together, the doctor informed us that D's white cell count was normal, meaning the infection was still localized just to his foot. That was the first good news I'd heard all day.

We finished the drip, signed our discharge papers and headed home.

This morning we saw Dr. T again and she's happy with the progress the foot-in-question is making. It's still a little red and swollen, but not like it was last night. We're going to continue on the oral antibiotics and keep an eye on it this weekend. Here's hoping against hope.

Of course, while were at the doctor's office, I noticed that Gracie had some red splotches on her neck. I looked into her onesie and saw hundreds of them all over her tummy. My question here was, "Are you kidding me???"

Luckily, Cheryl walked into the room and after she was done, she looked at Grace and determined that the viral infection she had was one that causes a high fever for three or four days and then manifests as a rash on the tummy and back. She had the classic sypmtoms and, luckily, there is no harm in this. In fact, by the time the rash shows up, it means that the period of time for being contagious is over. Whew!

So here's to hoping that we'll stay away from the doctor's office, the ER and other medically associated destinations. It will be nice to just "be" for awhile.

Have a happy, fun and safe Memorial Day weekend.

The Drama Continues...

Thought you'd heard the last of illness in the Pruetz house? Think again.

Yesterday was the girls' 12-month check up. Faith had started to feel better, but Gracie was in the middle of being as pathetic as any baby ever has. Sure enough, we spent a few minutes doing the check up stuff, like deveopmental milestones, height, weight, head circumference, etc. And then we moved onto the biggest problem at hand: infected ears and major fevers. I told our doctor about Faith's trips to the ER and to Good Night Pediatrics and about how only 24 hours later, Grace too came down with all the same symptoms.

Cheryl confirmed that there is indeed some nasty virus going around and that it was likely that both girls had caught it. She took a peek in Faith's ears to check on the status of the antibiotic. She said that Faith's ear drums were bulging, ready to burst, and that obviously, the Augmentin was not working. She looked at Grace's ears and while they were looking much better, they too seemed to be on their way to infection. So it was a new antibiotic for Faith and a first round for Grace. We went home with instructions to alternate Tylenol and Advil to keep Grace's fever down and to come back in a month to recheck height and weight (there was some concern that they are still so small, but their lack of recent weight gained may be due to the virus) and get their one-year shots. What fun!

Looking forward to getting back to normal, the three Pruetz girls returned home to greet Todd's sister, Jill, her boyfriend, Tom and Devin. It was great to see my doodlebug again.

I got to hear all about Devin's horseride in Concan and the slip he took on the rocks along the river's edge. He even showed me the cut in the webbing of his toes on his right foot. He was very proud of his war wound, but did complain that it hurt. I put some Neosporin on it and gave him some Advil for the pain. He ran off, seemingly fine.

This morning, he woke up complaining of the same thing. "My foot hurts," "It's hard to walk..." I took a look at the foot and, again, nothing was wrong. More Neosporin, more Advil. All was well.

But not really.

An hour later, I just happened to glance down at Devin's foot. It was enormous. It was swollen on top and around the toes. Jill also expressed concern because she had looked at it only an hour or so before, too, and it had seemed to have nothing wrong with it.

So off we went to Dr. Trexler's office. Again.

Cheryl walked in and laughed with me about how the Pruetz family is keeping Stone Oak Pediatrics in business. Devin took of his shoe for Dr. T and I was shocked -- it had suddenly become bright red and was starting to have striations around it. I looked at Cheryl and she did not look pleased.

She poked at Devin's foot, squeezed it and even had to touch at the wound (he did not like that). She drew a line around the red area to see if it would spread and how fast.

Then she broke the news: This was going to need some heavy-duty antibiotics, starting with a shot. Devin was not pleased to hear this.

After the doctor left the room, I talked to Devin about what was going to happen and why. He became very weepy and said he didn't want the shot. I asked him why and he said, "Becuase if I have to pull down my pants, everyone will laugh." Oh it just broke my heart -- my baby showed his first signs of embarassment regarding his "private" parts.

The nurse soon came in and I started to help D pull his shorts down. He fought and fought and fought me and when I finally got them down, he curled up in a ball and refused to get up on the table. I had to put him up there, get him on his tummy and sit on him to allow the nurse a good shot of his rear end (no pun intended).

And then the screaming commenced. It was so loud it reverberated off the walls. It made my ears ring. It was one of the loudest noises I have ever heard.

After a lot of struggle, the shot was administered and immediately a blue bruise popped up. The nurse brought an ice-pack and a popsicle for Devin. So there stood my little boy, shorts around his ankles, Superman underwear pulled down past one little red cheek and while I held ice on the site of the shot, the Doodlebug sucked on an a frozen confection. Can you imagine anything more pathetic? It was pretty sad.

Before we left, we were told that we would need to return tomorrow to see Dr. T again, in an effort to make sure that the antibiotics were working well. If they were not, Devin would need to be admitted to the hospital for IV drugs.

I'm happy to report, as my little guy snoozes on the couch, that the foot is already looking better. We haven't even picked up the oral antibiotic yet, but the redness has gone away and the swelling is going down. Devin was told to keep his foot up all day and stay in bed or on the couch. I told Cheryl, "Tell me another!"

I did give Devin some Benadryl, though, for the welt the shot left, and that put him down for a pretty good nap. He has his foot propped up on a pillow, so I guess we're doing pretty well, despite the difficulty my little one has with sitting still.

I'll post a report here tomorrow on the status of the puffy foot.

Me

A Baby No Longer...

Last Saturday, May 19, my twin girls turned one year old. On that day, one year prior, they were born by urgent c-section and whisked away to the NICU where they would be diagnosed with heart problems and a staph infection. In the NICU they leared the things that we take for granted every day -- how to breathe, how to eat, how to maintain their body temperatures.

They spent five weeks there and came home at barely five pounds each and attached to heartrate and breathing monitors that went with us everywhere. Luckily, we didn't go too many places because we were told to keep them home for awhile and Todd, Devin and I all settled into a routine of very little sleep and learning how to deal with constant crying.

Slowly, the girls settled down. The crying 18 hours out of the day decreased to 12 and then five and so on. The babies went from sleeping two hours at a time to sleeping five hours and then seven and eight. They started solid foods and learned to drink from a sippy cup. They rolled over, sat up, crawled, pulled up and cruised. Just this weekend they started standing on their own. Soon, walking will commence. Then running.

In a way, this has been the longest, most difficult year of my life. I've worried constantly about illness and over-exposure to germs and bacteria. I've lost sleep, wondered how I'd make it through the day and have stressed about the future. Everything from the first day of Kindergarten to shopping for prom dresses has crossed my mind and brought tears to my eyes.

I've also stressed about this year of anniversaries. The anniversary of finding out we were pregnant. The anniversary of finding out we were having twins. The anniversary of the twins having only a 30% survival rate. The anniversary of my admission to the hospital and the annivesary of my very small, very fragile girls being born. Every milestone brought back memories of the stress and emotion that ruled our lives this time 365 days ago.

In a completely different way, though, this has been the most amazing and fastest year of my life. My girls -- my flesh and blood -- were brought into this world by a community of friends, family and complete strangers. My faith was strengthened, as was my relationship with Todd. I grew closer to my family and I learned a love that I didn't know could exist. It's a different love than that I feel for Devin -- it's no less or no more intense, but it's different. I look at Faith and Grace with awe, wonder and a humble heart. I wonder what I did to deserve them, yet I know that I won't get an answer until I die.

I can remember everything about the twins' birth, hospital stay and homecoming like it was yesterday. I recently ran across the dresses they wore home from Methodist Hospital and it was a reminder to me just how far they've come.

So, according to the medical community, my now one-year-olds are no longer babies. They are toddlers, even if they aren't quite toddling yet.

But they are still my babies, in just about every sense. They are still so tiny and so baby-like. I get lots of looks when we go places because no on has ever seen a six-month-old pull up and cruise around furniture. I have to tell them that they are much older than they look.

They'll always be my babies, too. I'll always hold them a little tighter and a little closer, not only because of their remarkable and scary journey, but because they are my youngest. They'll always be babies.

Moving On...

This weekend we celebrated Faith and Grace's first year by going to Concan, TX on the Frio River. This is an out-of-the-way, tiny little town that sits right along one of the most scenic waterways in Texas. Todd and his family have been going there since he was four years old. We stayed at Neal's Lodges, also a family tradition in the Pruetz family. Todd's parents arrived with us on Saturday and Todd's sister, Jill, and her boyfriend, Tom, joined us yesterday (Sunday).

The trip wasn't without incident, though.

Todd, myself and the kiddos arrived at Cabin 21 before the rest of the family. I reached into the back and got Faith out of her carseat. Immediately, I knew something was wrong. She was burning up.

We got all of our "stuff" into the cabin and I found my digital thermometer. I took Faith's temperature and it read, "103.1."

Now when I mentioned that Concan is out-of-the-way, I meant it. It's nowhere near any large cities and we were at a loss for where to go or what to do.

Luckily, Todd's parents showed up soon after and advised us to take our little girl into the closest town-of-significance, Uvalde (pronounced you-VAL-dee). You may have heard of this town, as a man by the name of Matthew Mcconaughey makes reference to it every chance he gets -- he grew up there.

So Todd and I left Gracie and Devin with my in-laws and we trekked 25 miles to the Uvalde Memorial Hospital Emergency Room. Luckily, we were seen quickly and Faith was diagnosed with a double ear infection. We were given a prescription and instructions for care and we headed back to Neal's Lodges.

What a way to spend your first birthday, huh?

Back at the cabin, Todd's mom, Dorothy, had prepared a little party for the girls. Princess plates and napkins, a cake and some toys. It was very special and while Gracie dived into her cake like any self-respecting kiddo on her birthday, Faith dumped the cake on the floor in an effort to chew on her plate. She was totally unimpressed with the confection before her. I had to wonder, "Is this really my child?"

We continued alternating Tylenol and Advil through the night, trying to make Faith feel better. Her fever would seem to break and then come back with a vengence.

By Sunday afternoon, though, Faith really took a turn for the worse. She stopped eating and her fever wouldn't respond to any of the medications we gave her. About 8:00 last night, Todd and I decided I should take her home to see her own doctor while Todd and Devin stayed behind. I promised Todd that I would come back on Tuesday to retrieve him. Devin will return on Wednesday with Jill.

I left one of the car seats with Todd, just in case, and made the two-hour trek back to San Antonio. We arrived in our neighborhood around 10:00 and I decided to go directly to Good Night Pediatrics -- an after-hours pediatrician's office. This place is a God-send if your kids are like mine, who only get sick on the weekends or after 5:00 pm.

We were seen by a doctor very quickly and sure enough, Faith's ears were really infected. On top of that, it seems that there is a viral infection going around that is causing high fevers, decreased appetite and lethargy and Faith managed to get it, too.

Of course, there isn't anything that can be done for a viral infection, so while the trip was peace-of-mind for me, we didn't get any new information on my poor, sick girl.

So my baby slept all night long and napped all morning. Around noon, I got a phone call from Todd who said, "Grace has a 102 fever. Dad is driving us home." Thank goodness I left that car seat...

Sure enough, Gracie just isn't herself. She's not interested in eating, either (a big deal for her, since we sometimes fear that if she gets hungry enough, she may eat her sister), and is just kind of a slug. I guess we'll just wait for this to run its course with her, too. I'm wondering when Devin will get it.

Todd and Grace got here just fine and Todd's dad immediately turned around. After he left, I asked Todd why he didn't go back with his dad and he told me that he didn't want to leave me with two sick babies. I told him that this is when they are they easiest -- they sleep all the time. I urged him to go and he did.

So tonight, it's just us girls. I bathed Faith and Grace and had some play time with them. I put them down and am now enjoying some, "Erin time." It's nice, but I don't think I'd want this all the time. I miss my boys.

Well, this has been quite a post. I hope you had a snack nearby, because surely this took you some time to read. Thanks for bearing with me.

Take care and watch out for that virus -- it's a biggie.

E

Pruetz Family Goings On

I don't really have anything specific to write about -- just some fun little stories about the craziness we call the Pruetzes.

On Saturday night, we had some friends over for a dinner party: The Sauters, the Schaefers and the Miceks. They all brought their kids (seven in total, including my three) and we had a fantastic time drinking, watching the Spurs game and talking while the kids were up to no good upstairs.

And when I say up to no good, I mean up to no good. We knew they were playing and being loud and doing some strategic rearranging of our upstairs bedrooms. They're all good kids, so we didn't do much checking.

Luckily, they are good kids and no permanent damage was done. But imagine my surprise when, after the party, I walked into my bathroom to see every single toy Devin owns in our bathtub. And when I say every single toy, I mean it. Every toy. The shelves in his room and his toy chest were completely empty. Hundreds of Hot Wheels, stuffed animals, Disney action figures and miscellaneous paraphernalia was piled into my garden-sized tub. If I had stood in the middle of the bathtub, the mound would have come to my knees. No joke.

But who could be mad? It was totally revocable and the kids had a blast. We weren't mad in the least, although I could kick myself for not taking a photo before we cleaned it all up.

The next day was Mother's Day and my only request from Todd was that I would have a day of doing nothing. And while that's nearly impossible with three kids, I was given the best possible "do nothing" day. Todd fed the kids and put them down for naps and did stuff around the house while I relaxed. It was a great day.

It brought back lots of memories of last year's Mother's Day, when I was released from the hospital for a few hours to celebrate the day with Todd and Devin. I returned to room 142 having contraction after contraction. My doctor told me that we wouldn't be able to do any more day passes because of it, but little did I know that the next time I would return to our home, I would be a mother of three. The babies were born the Friday following Mother's Day.

As we approach the twins' first birthday this Saturday, I have a lot of weird feelings. 99% of them are good, but 1% of them are memories of the very scary first few weeks of their lives. I look at my babies and think, "They almost weren't. They shouldn't be." But they are. And I am humbled daily.

Getting back on track...

Yesterday, the kids and I took a trip to the San Antonio Zoo. Our city has one of the top-ranked zoos in the country and now that I have the time to do so, I plan on taking the kids there often. We even bought a family membership which provides us all with free admission for a year.

And going to the zoo here in San Antonio isn't like it was when I lived in Houston. In a city the size of Houston, going to the zoo was an all-day event. There was the hour drive downtown, the ridiculous parking situation and the crowds that flock to Hermann Park (where the zoo is located) every weekend. If you left at 10:00 a.m. and stayed for four hours, you'd leave the park just in time to hit rush-hour traffic. It was a no-win situation.

But in a city the size of San Antonio, getting to the zoo is no big deal. A 20 minute drive, free parking and free admission. You can stay an hour or two and go home without feeling like it was time or money wasted.

So anyway, we went with my friend Erin and her son, Colin, who is Devin's age. The boys had a great time running from exhibit to exhibit and they were thrilled by the wild animals, giant fish and various primates (that's for you, Aunt Jill. Otherwise, they'd all be referred to as monkeys!).

Here's the kicker, though...

When we got to the lion exhibit, one of the male lions was sitting close to the viewing area, but with his back turned. Devin took to making some noises at him...first a few soft roars, then a louder roar. Then he made his now-patented flamingo noise (learned from the flamingo exhibit at the front of the zoo).

When that didn't get the lion's attention, Devin took to a flat-out scream. A loud, high-pitched, can-hear-it-from-a-mile-away scream.

Note to self and all others: Lions do not like loud, shrill screams from little boys.

Apparently, Devin's voice caught the lion's attention because as soon as the noise left my child's mouth, the lion whipped his head around at lightening speed and stared directly at Devin.

Now this wasn't just some, "Hey kid, what are you doing?" look. This was a very quick, very mean look that caused the dozen or so people around us to all gasp collectively. For a moment, we were in the savannah and this lion had just scoped my three-year-old out as dinner. Before I could recall that I was in a very safe place and situation, I had a moment or two of panic. I truly believe that if he could have, that lion would have pounced on Devin and gobbled him up.

That's right, folks. You heard it here: My kid is loud enough to tick off a lion. The King of the Jungle. The most feared of all creatures. But my child managed to momentarily get the upper hand with him.

Proud? Yes, a little. Thinking I may never take him to the lion exhibit again? You better believe it.

Yesterday afternoon, Devin had his first gymnastics class. I was a gymnast for many, many years and when I got bored of that, I was a diver. So I have a vested interest in the sport and was thrilled when my friend and across-the-street neighbor, Susan, asked if Devin wanted to join her son, Reid (one of Devin's best buddies) in the gymnastics class.

Devin did really well. We had a couple of bumps at first when all he wanted to do was jump into the foam pit, but once he got the hang of doing the circuit, he did great. His teacher even commented that she really liked Dev and hoped he would continue. So I guess we've got plans for Monday afternoons.

Life with the girls is good too. As expected, shortly after finding Faith's two bottom teeth, Gracie's showed up too. They are doing great on their solid foods and seem to be going through a growth spurt, as they are taking 15 or so ounces of milk every night before bed. Yowza!

So that's about it for us. I have some pictures, but I'm trying to figure out how to get them onto the laptop without first putting them on the desktop. Hopefully soon...

Erin

Finally...PHOTOS!

I've been promising photos for awhile now, and just this morning I have gotten to actually tranferring them from one computer to the other. So, here are my kiddos...in all their glory.

We built a fort one day in our living room and Devin played and played in it. At one point, he asked if he could move the TV in there. Ummm...no. But nice try.


Happy babies! Faith is on the left, Grace on the right


Same babies...not quite as happy. Again, Faith on the left, Grace on the right


My little ladies

No Phantom Teeth This Time...

Back in January, I reported that Grace had sprouted a tooth. Turns out, babies often develop pockets of saliva that can look like teeth -- white little bumps on the ridge of the gumline. Looks like that is what it was, since Gracie is still as toothless as ever.

But Faith on the other hand...

Yesterday, Faith's Godmother, Linda, came over for lunch. We sat and talked, catching up after much-too-much time had past since our last, good visit. Faith sat on Linda's lap, mouthing everything in sight. Gracie was doing the same on my lap on the other end of the couch.

Linda made the comment that the girls are acting like they are teething and I answered, "They've been drooling and gnawing on things since they were three months old, but so far, no teeth!"

Now I have to interrupt myself here to let you know about my girls -- they love to make me into a liar. As soon as I say they can't do or say something, they immediately do it. For example, Devin swore that Grace was calling him a name in the car the other day.

"She's calling me a baby!"

"No she's not, Devin. She's just babbling."

Truth be told, I wasn't really listening. I've gotten very good at tuning out crying, whining and other noises that would otherwise send me to the looney bin.

As soon as I told Devin, though, that Gracie was just babbling and that she didn't know enough words to call him a name, she very clearly and very loudly said, "Baaaaybeeee..." Of course, I know that she did not intenionally call Devin a baby, but try explaining that to a three-year-old.

So there I sat, proved wrong by a child under the age of one. How's that for an ego-booster?

Anyway, back to my original story...

Just as I was telling Linda that there wasn't a tooth in sight for my twins, Faith guided Linda's finger into her mouth and, "Chomp!" down she clamped on Linda's finger. And out of Linda's mouth came a yelp.

"There's a tooth in there!"

Sure enough, Faith's lower left front tooth is budding through her little gums.

Proved wrong...again. I'm starting to get a complex.

So now we're waiting for Gracie to get her first tooth. It can't be too far behind, can it?

Expanding Horizons

Over the past week or two, we've been experimenting with finger foods for the girls. First we started with one of those little mesh sacks that you can put fresh fruit in and let babies suck the juice and pulp out. Then we moved onto the little melt-in-your-mouth puffs and some soft, diced fruit.

And now, we are starting to work on some real foods. For the firs time ever, the entire Pruetz family shared a meal together last night. While Devin, Todd and I dined on honey mustard chicken, chicken-flavored rice and green beans, the girls sat in their high chairs at the table and also munched on the rice and green beans. It was great -- I never realized how much I was looking forward to those kinds of experiences until we were all together. A perfect little family dinner.

This morning, after their morning milk, the girls ate their breakfast completely by hand. I didn't spoon feed them a single bite. Grace chowed down, but my sensitive little Faith was a little more resistant to doing it herself. She's also a little resistant to the sippy cup. Grace will drink anything from a sippy cup, but Faith is still partial to the bottle. I believe strongly in kids being off bottles by age one (or at least very shortly thereafter), and I have a feeling it's going to be a struggle with my little Roo. She reisists change -- just like her mommy.

Of course, the dawn of finger foods means gone are the days of pretty, clean dresses and perfectly scrubbed faces. The twins wake up looking shiny and clean every morning, but moments later they are covered in goo and schmutz. And all you mothers out there know that you can scrub and scrub with a washcloth or wet paper towel, but that nothing will get dried biter biscuit off the face until you actually submerge the kid in water and chisel it off.

And so goes the story of my gooey, schmutzy kids.

This morning we are going to enroll Devin in one of our local church's summer program. I think it will be good training for him, in preparation for Pre-K in September. Where did my baby go?

Looks like a nice day here in San Antonio, so we'll try to spend some time outside. We've had some killer storms (literally -- a number of people have died) in our fair city over the past week, with countless tornados and squall lines that have dumped nearly a foot of rain in some parts of the Alamo City. Lightening and thunder are just a part of our every day around here lately!

But hopefully we've got a few clear days, so we're heading outside to soak it up.

Peace.

NBC - Six Years Too Late

Last night, Todd and I watched one of NBC's latest shows - The Real Wedding Crashers. The premise is that a bride and groom allow four or five men and women to come and stage horrific events surrounding their wedding.

Last night's episode, for example, had a bride and a groom who set up their best man to knock over the wedding cake two days before the wedding and then invite a woman to the wedding who would, in turn, show up in a white, bridal gown. They also set up the bride's father to accidentally leave the wedding rings in a car that was being towed away. To get the rings and the car back, he had to give the tow truck driver a hug and a kiss.

And all of that was before the wedding actually happened.

At the wedding itself, parachuters crashed down into the outside ceremony, the disgruntled baker showed up very angry and the tow truck driver ended up at the head table.

Needless to say, the family and friends of this couple were dumbfounded by it all, until the "crashers" revealed their scheme and that the bride and groom were in on it all.

It was hysterical and as we watched with our jaws on the ground, Todd and I looked at one another and said, "Why wasn't this show around six years ago when we got married?"

I so would have done this. I'm not sure how it would have played out, since we got married less than three weeks after September 11. Our reception was on the 70th floor of the tallest building in Dallas -- a building which housed the headquarters of the country's 3rd largest bank and the regional headquarters for the FBI. Needless to say, there may have been some "issues," if we'd tried to have our wedding professionally crashed.

But we would have tried nonetheless. Talk about a memorable wedding!

Check the show out at NBC.com