some moments.

some moments are so bad i want to cry.

but i don't. at least not often. and it's not because i'm brave or wonderful, but mostly because i am heartless. okay, not really. but also, kind of? i have developed this ability to sort of numb myself to outside stimuli and just carry on. two babies screaming plus one toddler trying to climb up my leg to be held?? first, binkies. then swaddle, soothers, white noise. pick up the toddler, turn on a movie, set her on your lap and stroke her hair until her breathing steadies and her body softens. the instructions come like marching orders and i move quickly and efficiently in my little palace of babies. i do as i am told.

some moments are so good i think i might burst.

like the mornings, when the world is soft and hazy and the babies slept through the night, again. i wake up before the sun rises and pump them their first bottles. unwrap their hot bodies and raise them, like limp fish, to my chest. they nuzzle and squirm and bring their tiny fists to their mouths to suck. i serve them up warm milk and stroke their fuzzy heads softly. i whisper and tickle and they coo in return. we smile at one another, under the glow of lamplight, the rest of the world still sleeping.

some moments i'm sure i can't do it.

in those moments, my fingers move at lighting speed sending off SOS messages and swear words of desperation to my husband or my mother on the other end. this is impossible! i write, there are too many of them! i say. but eventually the world stops spinning and little eyes close and i find a moment to look out the window and notice the shimmer of the snow in sunlight. evie is napping and nora is napping and will has decided to steal a moment with mama, all to himself. his big belly buldges from his little pants and his wide eyes follow mine pensively and i know, like i have always known, that he was made for me.

and that's the thing i feel strongest when my body collapses and my head hits the pillow at night. i mean, sometimes i'm sure i suck at this. some days evie won't eat a thing and nora is restless and i've had enough diet coke to charge a cell phone, and still these little people look at me like i'm the sun and the moon and the stars in the sky. i am covered in spit up and i haven't had a shower for days and yet, when i hold them, i can feel that i was meant for this.

i am doing it, even if i'm not always doing it well.

i mean shoot, you guys.
it's kind of wonderful. 

*a few of these pictures are from instagram where i insta the crap out of my life as @jessmolsen if you'd like to follow along.

you, at two.

Ev, I promise your hair looked perfect 5 seconds prior. You have a way of messing it up that is just unbelievable. It's a talent of yours, really.

To my Evie Janey, Evie baby, Evie girl, Boo-boo,

YOU ARE TWO! Here is a glimpse into little blonde, blue-eyed (with so much green/brown in one eye you almost have two different colored ones), tall, skinny, funny, happy little two year old YOU.

As a two year old you are BUSY. As a two year old you EXHAUST me! By the time your Dad gets home I can hardly see straight or think clearly, because all I can see or hear is YOU! You are LOUD! You are VIBRANT! You are EVERYWHERE! You are bursting with enthusiasm and joy and so much life. How I love, love, love that about you! Never lose your zest for life, sweet girl. Never lose your sparkle. You light up everything and everyone around you. You just SHINE.

As a two year old you are defiant. You don't like to hear "no". You give me a dirty look when I say it to you and you like to push the boundaries and attempt the behavior a few more times just to be sure I don't like it.  You find it interesting when you aren't supposed to do something, but that doesn't mean you aren't going to do it. I am ushering you out of my makeup drawer and away from the toilet (you like to dip your toys in it!) and out of my bedroom closet (etc, etc, etc) all day long. You love to surprise me. You love to be silly. You LOVE to sneak into the babies room when they are sleeping and run around in a circle in between their cribs loudly yelling "SHHHH, SHHHH, SHHHHH!!!!" until one of them inevitably wakes up. You can be a STINKER! You can be difficult. You are SO MUCH FUN.

As a two year old you are still a feather, but you are finally chunking up in a way that is noticeable. You always eat your breakfast, you usually eat your lunch and you rarely eat your dinner. You love blueberries and pita chips and ham and eggs. You eat your vegetables without complaint and have been known to want bites of my salad. You like yogurt with granola and pasta with red sauce and you LOVE Norwegian pancakes made by your Dad. Breakfast is the best time of day to load you up with the good stuff--you'll gladly have an omelet or a pancake, a waffle, some toast, fruit, bacon, orange juice-- you like it all and then it is pretty much down hill from there! You throw everything on the floor the second you're finished. And I mean the SECOND.

As a two year old you are adjusting to life as a big sister. And that's just the best way to describe it. It's an adjustment. I know it is hard for you to go from being an only child (and being doted on and obsessed over as only an only child is) to 1 of 3 children overnight. But you are handling it and I am so proud of you. Some moments you seem excited about your little siblings and you want to kiss them and pat them and point out their eyes and ears and noses and other moments are just jealousy. You have a hard time when I am feeding them. It lasts too long and you feel left out and will often sulk or act out during the process (your favorite is to throw something because it gets you immediate attention, albeit negative, you know I hate it.) I can't tell you how my heart breaks in these moments when I can tell you feel lost. I know you just want me--my adoration and love and full attention--and I feel so bad that I can't give it to you right then. I promise I am trying my best. I promise you we will figure this thing out. I am still yours heart and soul, girlfriend. Nobody loves you like I do.

As a two year old you are a TALKER! But not quite English yet. Lots and lots of gibberish with plenty of real words mixed in. You can repeat almost any word I say to you, but you aren't using these words to communicate in a way that makes sense just yet. Your vocabulary has taken a back seat to your walking these past few months (YOU FINALLY WALK- SING PRAISES!!) but you are still crazy excited to communicate and full of expression and tonality and hilarity. You never stop talking. Never, ever. Seriously, sweetheart, sometimes it would be nice if you would stop talking.

As a two year old you do things your own way. For the longest time everyone was worried about your walking. I took you to the physical therapist and I let them diagnose you and examine you and say this and that about you and meanwhile my heart always told me the same thing, "she will do it when she's ready". You just weren't ready. And then, one day, you just stood up and walked. It was as if you just decided it was time and now you were going to walk and what's the big deal (it happened the night before I had the twins, for the record). And now you walk. Now you RUN. You do things your own way. You march to the beat of your own drum. You have taught me so much about motherhood in the process. I learned to trust my gut and my intuition, because in my heart I knew it wasn't about your feet or your shoes or anything but YOU and your own belief in yourself. I knew you would get there in your own time, in your own way, and you did.

As a two year old you are fun! You are so happy and silly and man are you CUTE! You love Mickey and Minnie, baby dolls, books and any stuffed animal. You pat your babies backs and shush them to sleep. You read to yourself, pointing at the pictures and making up narratives and turning the pages like a little teacher. You love to watch movies, especially Tangled and Rio, and you dance like a maniac and sing "hey! hey! hey!" during the songs. You love to make movies with Mommy (I have a million videos of you just being a ham for the camera) and listen to music and wrestle and be tickled on the floor. You come and pat me playfully when you want me to tease you or chase you or play with you. You yell "MOOOOMMMMYYYYY!!" the second you wake up in the morning and cannot wait to start the day. You like play dough and Doc Mcstuffins and you'll still cuddle with me in the afternoons. You sleep with a ratty old piece of fabric known as your "sleep sack" and you still suck your thumb like a little lover and your eyelashes are longer than mine and you're just DARLING.

As a two year old I cannot imagine you being any cuter. I cannot imagine you being more fun or vibrant or funny or full of life. Mostly I just cannot imagine life without you.

You light up everything you touch, little one. You radiate sunshine and joy and you have made these past two years the best. Thank you for all of it, Evie Jane. We couldn't love you more. I'm telling you, sister, YOU ARE IT.

Love, 

Mama

will & nora: month two.

they linked arms like this all on their own, i swear. i have a witness!

If you get annoyed with Mothers who are obsessed with their children LOOK AWAY NOW because I am the most annoying Mom you'll ever meet. When I found out I was having twins at that 20 week ultrasound the emotion that I felt the strongest was FEAR. I was scared. So, so scared. I couldn't imagine it being fun. I couldn't imagine feeling anything but stress. And those feelings were irrational and magnified by shock, but I have to say that caring for these sweet little twins of mine has been a much happier experience than I expected it to be. It has been a pleasant surprise.

Don't get me wrong here. It is HARD. Some days I am certain I won't survive another hour. Some days I want to bang my head against the wall a few hundred times. It is so hard, so stressful, very monotonous, and very exhausting, but man oh man, DO I LOVE THEM.

And that's the thing I almost wasn't expecting. Although I knew that I would love them (of course I would!), when I found out there would be two of them I worried that the stress might trump the adoration. I worried the stress would overcome me and make it hard for me to feel anything else. And I am so lucky to say that's not the case. I am so happy to say that the love trumps the stress times a million. Their needs never end, I rarely sit down, the feedings are never-ending and I am so, so tired, but I also feel so lucky. I can't believe they are mine. I can't believe how much my heart has stretched to make room for them. I can't believe how cute they are, how sweet, how soft and tiny and precious and perfect.

I don't want this time to go too quickly. Because right now they are everything to this little family and more. This time we're having--this phase of life spent doing nothing but loving them and feeding them and wiping their tiny bums--It is impossibly tiring and so insane and one of the greatest challenges I've ever known.

It is also straight up MAGIC.

2 months old.

family picture sneak peak!

my friend lindsay (of lindsay hagblom photography) was so patient with our crazy family and wild evie and spent hours and hours to get all the shots i wanted. i cannot wait to see the rest!

christmas at the cabin, 2012.

Every year we go to the Olsen family cabin for a few days after Christmas. This year, with all the craziness that comes with twin newborns, we assumed we shouldn't go and planned to stay home for the weekend instead. However somewhere along the way Greg changed his mind and informed me we'd be going at about 10am on Saturday morning as he scrambled Evie's egg. I responding by texting him the list I keep on my phone of everything that's required to leave the house for more than 3 hours with 3 children under 2 and let him have at it (the list is AT LEAST 20 items long. I figured it would knock some sense into him, but he was feeling ambitious and I was feeling bored). 2.5 hours later we were on our way.

It was so nice to spend some time under a different roof and have help with the babies for a full 24 hours--Jennie and Margaret barely even let me hold them! I can't believe what a difference just one more person makes when it comes to managing my children. Maybe I'm just not good at it yet, but we're talking the difference between life and death. Sanity and suicide. I kid. But, it's huge.
 

It was a freezing, beautiful weekend at the cabin spent chatting by the Christmas tree and bundling up the kids to "play" in the snow (It was Evie's first time. She mostly cried). I'm finding I should never say never when it comes to what I will and won't do with 3 tiny kids in tow. We keep telling our families we won't be coming to this and that and then we get bored, get caffeinated and somehow show up after all. Sometimes I think my life might not actually be over. (wink)

I have taken this exact picture of Ty & Greg at least 10 times. I should compile all of them to prove it. They keep asking me to take it. You guys look SO COOL.

These babies. I am so in love. They are so worth it.

all i wanted for christmas.

1 sleepless night with Will & Nora who both had gassy tummies on Christmas Eve.
3 hours it took us on Christmas morning to feed, burp, change, bathe, dress, swaddle, soothe, pack, pump, dress, pack the car and get out the door.
9 presents Santa left for the kids under the tree
0 presents for Mom and Dad
2 houses to visit on Christmas day
3 exhausted Christmas kids
1 rockstar energy drink consumed by the husband
4 Diet Cokes consumed by the wife
1 Mother who passed out on her parents bed Christmas afternoon and could have slept FOREVER.
6 cousins Evie loved playing with all day.
4 Grandparents who spoiled and loved and made the day great.
3 perfect children all under one roof
10 million times I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

This year for Christmas I didn't get a thing and yet, I got it all. I am married to my love, a guy who is patient and kind and devoted--who wakes up with me night after night to feed a baby while I feed the other. We live in a darling little house on a tree-lined street and my husband wakes up each morning and drives himself downtown to a great job that allows me to stay home and be a full time Mother. We are happy and healthy and safe and EXHAUSTED. Taking care of 3 little children under 2 is the hardest thing I have ever done. It is challenging and tiring and, at times, it feels completely impossible. And yet, I know it's for me.

This year for Christmas I had 3 perfect little children all under one roof. My little children; Evie and Nora and Will. I am so overwhelmed by how much I love them. I am equally overwhelmed by the number of diapers they all burn through in the course of a day.

I am so grateful for Christmas and for the opportunity I have to celebrate the birth and life of my Savior. I am grateful for the knowledge that He lives, He's aware of me, He loves me, He listens when I pray to Him and He gives me the strength I need to do hard things. Sometimes to even to do really hard things well.

That's what I'm aiming for. I'm trying to do this really hard thing well. And I am so grateful for the chance to try. For this little family that's all mine.

They are IT. They are the present. I have everything I've ever wanted.

**Nora came home the the Saturday before Christmas Eve! I wish I could personally hug and thank each and every one of you who prayed for her and thought of her and sent us your faith and love. I know it made all the difference. Thank you, thank you, we are so grateful to everyone who got us through.

nora hattie.

This post should come AFTER one announcing the birth of my sweet twins. There is a timeline defining the month of November and many posts I should have written, but was too tired to write. That timeline would look something like this: Birth (joy), NICU (sadness), Nora comes home (elation), William does not (pain, guilt, exhaustion), Will comes home (ELATION!), Jess becomes an official full time mama to 3 little ones at home (joy, exhaustion and relief).

That is where the roller coaster should have ended. That is where I wanted to get off. I could have never anticipated another rise and fall like I have experienced since bringing my two babies home. Since that time we have fallen--and we have fallen hard and deep.

There is a song I love to listen to at Christmastime. It is beautiful and soothing and therapeutic. Today as I drove up to Primary Children's Medical Center to visit Nora I listened to it on repeat, held my husband's hand, and cried into the ice cold car window. Car rides are reserved for crying and home is reserved for Evie and Will and trying to be a good mother.

As I listened to the familiar lyrics I realized, perhaps for the first time, that the song I love so much is actually quite sad. Like so many of the trials I have faced in my life--it is beautiful and it is tragic. And it describes how I feel right now exactly.

This is my winter song to you.
The storm is coming soon,
it rolls in from the sea

My voice; a beacon in the night.
My words will be your light,
to carry you to me.

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love

They say that things just cannot grow
beneath the winter snow,
or so I have been told.

They say were buried far,
just like a distant star
I simply cannot hold.

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?

This is my winter song.
December never felt so wrong,
cause you're not where you belong;
inside my arms.

I still believe in summer days.
The seasons always change
and life will find a way.

Ill be your harvester of light
and send it out tonight
so we can start again.

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?

This is my winter song.
December never felt so wrong,
cause you're not where you belong;
inside my arms.

This is my winter song to you.
The storm is coming soon
it rolls in from the sea.

My love a beacon in the night.
My words will be your light
to carry you to me.

That is my prayer and my hope for my sweet baby Nora. I hope my faith will be a beacon in the night, I hope it will reach her and surround her and comfort her when she is in pain. I hope it will carry her back to me and back into my arms, where she belongs. I have had her home with me already, I know what it is to love her and care for her and wake up at 3am to the sound of her perfect cries. As her Mama, that is all I want to do. I have so so much, I am so blessed, and yet, I am empty without her.

This post should have come after one announcing her birth, and Will's birth, and really this post just shouldn't have ever come at all.

I am learning that it is a hard thing to be a Mother and to love someone so much. At times it feels like my heart is not inside my body. Certainly right now, it is not. Tonight my heart resides up at Primary Children's Nicu with a sick and sweet and perfect little girl named Nora.

**I know this post is vague and doesn't explain exactly what we are facing right now (Nora's diagnosis is NEC), but since this is my blog and my outlet, I decided to write what I want to write instead of what I feel obligated to write and tonight I just wanted to write about what I am going through. It is tiring to talk about Nora's condition and to explain her treatment and her suffering. Talking about it is difficult for me and it makes me incredibly sad. I know that most of you who read my blog already know what is going on with her and are praying for her. If you don't, feel free to email or call me or get in touch with someone in my family. Thank you for your prayers, from the bottom of my heart.


PS. Wintersong here.