The Christmas Where Everyone Shouts, and some news

Balloon and Bridge, originally uploaded by the_dharma_bum.

This year's festivities in my family's home were probably the most entertaining that I can remember. Easily the most raucous. (Blame that on the aquavit.) Our family was expanded by the addition of our dear family friend (and surrogate sibling) Mo and the two baby boys a-brewin' in my wife's belly.

That's right. Two baby BOYS.

We found out that news clandestinely on the 23rd and surprised both sets of parents with the news over Christmas. It was received with a mix of exclamations of joy and sharp inhaling of breath through clenched teeth. The next few decades should be fun.

I'm now camped out at the in-laws' bunker in West Michigan, enjoying DVR'd episodes of Top Gear (the American version, surprisingly entertaining) and sporting events. We saw True Grit (it was ok). I got a few books to read (Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years and The Girl Who Played With Fire) and new socks to wear (argyle patterns in cashmere and lambswool). It was a good Christmas.

Also, our home is now officially for sale. Someone please buy it soon.

Paint fumes = progress

Golden on the ground, originally uploaded by A-Wix.

I want to take a moment to publicly declare that my in-laws are amazing. They have spent the last three days ambitiously ticking off item after item from the daunting to-do list for our house. Here's a summary (almost certainly leaving something out):

- Both bedrooms painted
- Living room painted
- Dining room painted
- Accent wall in the kitchen painted
- Kitchen cleaned to within an inch of its life (Our range looks brand new! And it's from the early 80s!)
- Bathroom tub scoured clean and shamed for being so dirty
- Many heavy things brought up from the basement

I would be remiss if I failed to mention that we have wonderful friends who also chipped in to turn our house inside out, clean the gross insides, then turn it right side out again. Mark, Devin, Jon, and Andrew, you are the wind beneath our wings. Thank you.

Twelve weeks

We are humming along smoothly and Mama is getting bigger by the day.

The Nausea seems to be finally giving up and going home, but The Fatigue apparently didn't read the invitation all the way through and has stayed way past its welcome. Seriously, Fatigue. Bugger off.

Things we are currently pondering:

Should we try to sell the house now instead of waiting until spring time? Do we really want to try to schedule showings around the sleep/eat/poop schedules of twins? But do I want to finally face the scary realities of selling a house? I have a recurring nightmare of the realtor telling us our house is worth about $20 (give or take).

Do we need a minivan? (Papa wants one because they are SO COOL NOW. Mama isn't so gung-ho, or more accurately, simply rational.) Can we afford a minivan? (Have you priced out a new Odyssey lately? Geesh. I got student loans, man. We got future kids to pay for.)

And then there were four...

...and it was good.

(The babies at eight weeks, all wee and alienesque and wonderful)

And it threw the new parents-to-be for a loop. A joyous, surreal, frightening, but mostly joyous loop.

And the babies did grow and gain organs and bones and sinew and lose extraneous tails (we hope). And it was good.

(The twins at 12 weeks, a full 6x bigger than at eight. Boo yah!)

And thus began the saga of the Family Wicks. Stick around for all the fun and diaper changes and sleepless nights and wonderfulness.

This has been Papa A, broadcasting live from the front lines.