Can you believe the twinks are six? Neither can I. And, I guess, technically, they're not six for another couple days. But we started celebrating last night since Brad will be gone this week and it's never to soon to start a party around here.
Oh, how I love these boys! Every mom needs twin boys. Double shots of testosterone zooming through the house. One for each hand. One for each arm. They are ideal companions for one another and great company for me. The perfect double play.
More than the older two, these guys have really grown up on my blog. Which is a good thing, since I never did get around to finishing (OK, starting!) their scrapbooks. Remember their humble beginnings? Remember the birthday party that never happened? In fact, my first ever blogpost (March 10, 2007) is a masterpiece entitled Twinsanity! It seems to be a running theme.
Sam and Luke gave me the gift of a pregnant belly and satisfied my curiosity regarding Brad and I mixing DNA. (And you know what? Being pregnant and seeing my own genetics come to life actually taught me how small those elements figure into the creation of a real family. So, amazingly, having biological children helped me love my adopted kids even more. Ain't life great?!)
Still, the twins taught me that hope and faith aren't just words in the Bible. Because it's pretty hard not to believe in miracles, when two of them are sitting in your kitchen eating Eggo waffles every morning.
Sam. Every time I say his name I smile. Can't help it. He's full of catch phrases and funny gestures. "Ouch! That just hurt like the dickens!" or "Sorry Mom, not gonna happen." Even when he's being difficult, Sam's only a heartbeat away from a dimple-cracking grin. Sam looks on the bright side of life and already knows how to charm the ladies. He's a numbers man, a loud talker, a friend to everyone and, definitely, a momma's boy.