tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77876813991511157062024-03-20T22:23:16.309-04:00TwinfatuationMusings on Life with Multiples.Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.comBlogger1769125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-74973370833237757472024-03-06T13:59:00.006-05:002024-03-06T13:59:45.166-05:00Way Back When-esday - Healthy Helpings and a Hoverer<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRkIGMYQVuTQBx31ZsIltofdGMMX1KTa3jOTnIMOPNl9Kq3x0bMSSMyDIqevj5raFqTexqBHR9MrRp1caDcMwZsi_qasUG9V98RTnd2q4sfgI9JkniOw4lhQYoV2zGM0IFHQpq26sjCEJoCYXLnkIan3LLpCOYTbZ1UhULs41m6MZng8K2kny_HyNhl4/s410/July%202010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="308" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRkIGMYQVuTQBx31ZsIltofdGMMX1KTa3jOTnIMOPNl9Kq3x0bMSSMyDIqevj5raFqTexqBHR9MrRp1caDcMwZsi_qasUG9V98RTnd2q4sfgI9JkniOw4lhQYoV2zGM0IFHQpq26sjCEJoCYXLnkIan3LLpCOYTbZ1UhULs41m6MZng8K2kny_HyNhl4/s16000/July%202010.jpg" /></a><br /><b><i>Dateline:</i></b> July 2010<br /><b><i>Twins' Age:</i></b> 8<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />Less than a month earlier, the furry face in the middle had joined the Lage family. Clearly, he fit right in!<br /><br />Double Daddy just reminisced yesterday, "Larry was the perfect dog at the perfect time for our family." <br />Still miss that sweet boy every day.<br /><br />This sweet trio of smiles warm my heart this mid-week.</div></div><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span><br /> <p></p>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-91659494172051024552024-02-28T13:19:00.002-05:002024-02-28T13:19:11.711-05:00Way Back When-esday - Cuties with Cakes <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzjQTXfuN_lDcWAIm3HSsF0Yn-7X_yXnFvODfvgWYm3zF4nwHeWzScOpQDBtXOASYjbiAOTKm6VdSao1i3f68ZXlD9KQPDdp9l25tT8qANFV_OBxuNoOgkE1VDLEharWgJ2BQRETblh20mMdSNMWfPLgtM8bDbw02WJgtQt44ThbDvjuyTn7y4jrwenU/s547/FIVE!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="547" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzjQTXfuN_lDcWAIm3HSsF0Yn-7X_yXnFvODfvgWYm3zF4nwHeWzScOpQDBtXOASYjbiAOTKm6VdSao1i3f68ZXlD9KQPDdp9l25tT8qANFV_OBxuNoOgkE1VDLEharWgJ2BQRETblh20mMdSNMWfPLgtM8bDbw02WJgtQt44ThbDvjuyTn7y4jrwenU/s16000/FIVE!.jpg" /></a><br /><b><i>Dateline:</i></b> September 2006<br /><b><i>Twins' Age:</i></b> Freshly 5 <br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Presidential placemats. Pointy birthday hats. Declarative ribbons. Cakes adorned with current fave characters. Is that a tell-tale bit of icing on He-Twin's upper lip? Who's the featuree on She-Twin's cake? <br />Can you tell? <br /><br />Memories of birthday glee warm my heart this mid-week. <br /><br />So much love for them---and Double Daddy---then, and so much now. <br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span><br /><br /></div></div><br /> <p></p>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-31685408539967862412024-02-21T11:19:00.001-05:002024-02-21T11:19:11.134-05:00Way Back When-esday - Foregrounds and Backgrounds<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="548" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV5ut5sMi8CJQFJLAIAlVAAV9p644ewezzCikl8rmuwwzn_JepRk4FBjKMYMxxKMjc4OVW7w5R3mpVV5tCIdviZxstfuZW8RRWiqmHYAuRXlthduchXg5Ua2JWsDSdqooBGqKfbvGqWYfIKTv8R2fFfyUzpYEwyP8Ee8khz8vkL9pt8QFyiWYAU2_uwYQ/s16000/Oct%201%202007.jpg" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <b><i>Dateline:</i></b> October 2007<br /><b><i>Twins' Age:</i></b> 6 <br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Stumbled upon a e-folder long-unopened, a treasure trove of days-gone-by glimpses. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />In the foreground: <br />Sparkly-eyed siblings, sporting big grins with baby teeth. <br /><br />In the background: <br />Darren's poster project prepared for his kindergarten class "Get to Know Me." <br />Sarah's pink and purple---and rarely used---pocketbook received for our review as "twinfluencers" (before the term was coined). <br />Stadler and Waldorf, no doubt cracking wise, from their make-shift balcony, atop the sofa back.<br /><br />Loving the breadth of memories spurred by this simple candid...and most of all, the kiddos therein. <br /><br />Happy Mid-Week, Wonderful Ones.<br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span><br /><br /></div><p></p>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-57452465927455815822023-10-25T10:30:00.002-04:002023-10-25T10:30:14.889-04:00Way Back When-esday - Represent! <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="547" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVWKaHg_0E0wKChMUYPzN0r9SEaBYD0oiKilLdmI4aj5gZlTyMASidd-ox6CaQuIXtEWJY_zPUYTGGvfy_atqc33LjunRcQtiNmS8Smnjq3zU7ndxFEadQYpXHP1xenS0dmV6eXsHsSRQuJefavFnFXWLViPXcRQ1HUEntug4wQTYAjH65uybPixI2ZHM/s1600/IMG_1266.jpeg" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Dateline:</i></b> November 9, 2016<br /><b><i>Twins' Age:</i></b> 15<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Our duo decked-out in their unauthorized high school regalia. <br />This year, <a href="https://www.usnews.com/education/best-high-schools/virginia" target="_blank">US News and World Report ranked their schools as #2 & #3 in the state of Virginia</a>. <br />Imperfect to be sure, but Richmond Public Schools for the win! <br /><br />Who believes it's nearly been 7 years? <br />This spring, new regalia...college diplomas. <br />So proud of them then. So proud of them now. <br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span></div></div></div>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-73133685757072663892023-09-10T23:11:00.003-04:002023-09-10T23:17:50.066-04:00Two Towers. Two Babies. Twenty-Two Years.<p> It was a Tuesday. Our twins' very first one.</p><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244432709928474130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEityBmPPxF5zG4Qm5OiCFxqShUO65sUdEnLpNiS10ulORClHsGd9rKAyONhIFvD29fch3XQ_iMcsN4tJbTSjmSIEly0aylYdf2CoILYx_Dhd8Ie62vp3jV8YutNzPJnrTkqk74oiUUBWgwj/s320/2babies.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" />That morning at home began much like the delirious days preceding it: a 7:30am awkward and anxious tandem nursing, followed by double baby burping and dual diapering. As a first-time mom, I was adrift in the new-parent paranoia and hyper analysis of every hiccup and twitch -- and yet simultaneously entranced by each finger movement and chest-inflating breath, times two.<br /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244432424067055362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6AOt9qvkEi3KJNeM_o5bP1yAdF8vl9Isd-gEfjFlH0HpkvW3d2cAejhMvpXUBwkkEh0in5J5pULZNR6dhnji_uHJNbwPg1f304E-EfS9nlJ1E8a7LGbQeMpKj3we4-3YMOOInd_EydvG/s320/911log.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /><br />My treks up and down the stairs were strictly limited by doctor mandate to once or twice a day. After helping tend to the morning's first baby maintenance session, my husband Scott was downstairs. In a tone I'd never heard him use before (and haven't heard him use since), a blend of tender concern and clear urgency, he yelled, "Honey, are you watching the news?" I quickly (well, as quickly as one can when maneuvering newborn twins with minimal body control) turned the television to the "Today" show. Shots of a blazing World Trade Center North Tower filled the screen.<br /><br />In true Elizabeth Kubler-Rossian mode, my embarrassing, sleep-deprived first thought was that surely, the poor pilot must have been killed -- entirely in denial that the hub of American business was undoubtedly populated with unsuspecting workers already seated at their desks for the morning. The commentators were reporting the damage was likely caused by a small plane...perhaps a privately owned Cessna. Never, <em>never</em> did I think for a solitary second the inferno we were all beholding was an intentional impact. <em>An intentional impact</em>. Before that day, unimaginable.<br /><br />Minutes later, as we watched, the second plane, looking nothing like a Cessna, plowed headlong into the South Tower. From upstairs I screamed, "Honey! Someone needs to call the air traffic controllers in NYC! Somehow they're misdirecting planes into the buildings...another one just hit! Another one just hit!"<br /><br />Unaffected by the tag team of horror and twin-delivery intensified hormones, and nowhere near as naive as I, my husband knew to come upstairs and explain what was by then terrifyingly obvious to his -- and most other Americans' -- eyes. An attack, here in America.<br /><br />Chaos and conflicting stories prevailed that morning. Tales of upwards of 50 planes unaccounted for and potentially in enemy hands. White powder delivered to government offices. Estimates of potentially 10,000 dead. Military planes being scrambled. The President was in Florida. The White House and Capitol were being evacuated. A third plane, and the Pentagon -- less than 10 miles away from my childhood home -- was in flames. The hijacked Flight 93 went down in Pennsylvania...charred earth the only remnant.<br /><br />Within hours, New Yorkers rapidly produced flyers with photos of smiling dads, moms, sons and daughters that were hung all over the city. They were held aloft for the television cameras so that someone, <em>anyone</em>, might recognize the person pictured and provide the reassuring news so prayerfully sought. News that with each passing minute was increasingly unlikely to be heard. Hope-fueled optimism reigned - and slowly, against its will, waned -- in the first 24, and 48, then 72 hours. The round-the-clock rescue efforts yielding way too few -- hardly any -- occupants for the recovery areas staffed and waiting nearby.<br /><div><br /><div>Those heartbreaking visuals and so many others from those days are seared forever in our minds. The disturbingly twinkly confetti-like papers afloat around the plane-pierced structures. The police and fire department vehicles with their sirens blaring and their heroes aboard, racing full-speed toward an area that survival instincts would reflexively demand one avoid. Stunned people in business suits running out of buildings. Onlookers screaming, hiding their eyes, pointing, praying, crying. Victims waving -- and then beyond comprehension, actually leaping -- from the facades of the burning buildings. A personal video from the POV of being pulled into a coffee shop to escape the billowing cloud of collapse, with the audio of "thank you, thank you, thank you." Al Qaeda training camp videos with hooded practitioners navigating overhead monkey bars. The iconic antenna atop WTC1 descending slowly into an expanding column of dust.<br /></div><br /><div>Then, new pictures. Emerging from the horrific aftermath, a surge of patriotism. On our near-daily drives to the pediatrician's office for twin baby weight checks, ever increasing numbers of flags hung outside homes, offices, stores and from car antennae. Business marquees no longer touted "Buy One, Get One Free" or "Help Wanted;" but instead, proclaimed "We Love You, New York," "We Will Never Forget," and "God Bless America."<br /></div><div><br />The most rote of routines became less mundane. 3000+ families started September 11th as if it were any other day. Re-evaluation of even the most miniscule, theretofore taken for granted aspects of day to day life seemed in order. As I dried myself after a shower, newly acquainted with the word "Taliban," I couldn't help but imagine how grateful an Afghani woman might be for my warm, thick towel. Something that could be used for far more virtuous purpose than merely wicking away the moisture from a freshly-clean new mother. An Afghan mother might have nothing in which to swaddle her newborn baby. What if a woman in this horridly repressive culture had twins? How were those women there envisioning our lives? The concept and purpose of a burqua was (and is) difficult for me to understand. In those first days with our new babies, unashamedly, I found myself not only immodestly "uncovered," but frequently bare from the waist up. Did that mean that I, a new mother of beautiful, pure, innocent twins, would be viewed as immoral? Whorish? Incomprehensible beliefs so varied from our own...felt so very passionately, that dispassionately, murderous evil could be enacted under the misguided assignation of martyrdom.</div><br /><div>Vividly, I remember my thankfulness, that amongst so many other blessings -- in positioning the twins to nurse, they were facing me...and not the future-altering images that filled the TV screen. As an adult, as an American, as a mother, it was my obligation to face those images...and to mourn with those who were mourning.<br /></div><br /><div>Yet amidst the devastation, the molten towers' girders seemed to find reincarnate solidity in heroes whose stories began to emerge -- and continue to emerge today.<br /></div><br /><div>Forever linked to our family's personal history, Scott and I pay rapt attention annually to the documentaries, the interviews, the tributes. Each September, our emotions careen from giddy celebration on the 5th, to grave solemnity on the 11th. Then, we move on. Always remembering. Forever united, a family...micro and macro.<br /></div><br /><div><b>Gratitude. Grief. Grace.</b><br /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244437864967459794" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nDslGDt81_BOqd_bGJ22B8OfwXhsr_DuJOlAQud1uyv6FT8up6k_3hj9ABY0fu3ntHSeqI2DbhyxJdocO1z_lYiXwS6dNcxhPKYZeYeFrzgUx-3aqddGjjgUPXxWWZ_SRUW18XmugO-R/s320/42-15354415.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><div style="text-align: center;">(Photo: Getty Images)<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />*Originally posted September 11, 2008. We will re-post this every year. #NeverForget</div></div></span></div></div><div><br /></div>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-87291992939757606502023-09-06T16:36:00.005-04:002023-09-06T16:38:21.776-04:00These Little Lights ....<p>As of yesterday, at 12:34p and 12:41p respectively, He-Twin and She-Twin turned 22 years old. <br /><br />Seems as though that should qualify as a "golden birthday" for babies born in twos. <br /><br />With all away at college, separate celebrations were mandated. <br /><br />So many candles, but far brighter lights within them both. <br /><br />Double Daddy and I couldn't be prouder or more excited to see how they let 'em shine, let 'em shine, let 'em shine. <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpLHP9_paB83FwNy5nuUTI8gP5LosP0YNWs0JN7AZg0LnVNCEM_bOGhsK37ZMwKrfndfPiitxp-PPdGKUqdHdWolEunpnrSawmDPAEWOeGwev_9N1DhBMzjOlUz_Y4wlSJJYssH67cmNlqmtImmKMyI1kpGhH07BResyMeOpN01o8RBDTiv6HIZq8abGM/s410/Sarah%2022.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="336" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpLHP9_paB83FwNy5nuUTI8gP5LosP0YNWs0JN7AZg0LnVNCEM_bOGhsK37ZMwKrfndfPiitxp-PPdGKUqdHdWolEunpnrSawmDPAEWOeGwev_9N1DhBMzjOlUz_Y4wlSJJYssH67cmNlqmtImmKMyI1kpGhH07BResyMeOpN01o8RBDTiv6HIZq8abGM/s16000/Sarah%2022.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUmto9WJgFpOKgXSJIPImLDU90_2UiFqAqo1K7LpnLXfVK5q2BJM-hwxdphSZQxeu49TK30NxdcT3UTAJAkDmelnSTQlzUsDyoC2FDyi7cA51-80hA4fgTq_CLrzKf60Rgubv8qetlXVVSdQ_hP2X2P_v_QkkkyT1EqijCXjUAhCaRo3Nv3P9Sv6OgBps/s410/Darren%2022.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="308" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUmto9WJgFpOKgXSJIPImLDU90_2UiFqAqo1K7LpnLXfVK5q2BJM-hwxdphSZQxeu49TK30NxdcT3UTAJAkDmelnSTQlzUsDyoC2FDyi7cA51-80hA4fgTq_CLrzKf60Rgubv8qetlXVVSdQ_hP2X2P_v_QkkkyT1EqijCXjUAhCaRo3Nv3P9Sv6OgBps/s16000/Darren%2022.jpeg" /></a></div><br />Twenty-two years, and we're as twinfatuated as we were from the first minutes. <br /><br />We love you so, Darren and Sarah. <br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Mom</i></b></span>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-66187468920238904722023-08-30T13:35:00.002-04:002023-08-30T13:35:10.797-04:00She-Twin's Last First Day of School <p><span style="background-color: white;">Her </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif;">first day of 16th grade, She-Twin graciously accommodated my request for a back-to-school photo.</span></p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif;">Traditional backpack view? Not forgotten or ignored; sleeping roommate's rest honored.<br /><br /></span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2FhmGKync8LIfdpt9yMbnaRsql1jSCqfBOHmZZRtD_Au-5UY8MgYrpSm6MGmZTfA_xpdEQqDrbr20SjE98FB80pacEeiWZc-9s05CqHxvjltT2CRvSkCKM1bFpqk5J9jMjmi_RxjFneWAgExSHqaryZnCXSXVmVTCqaiVqaGFppeYQjUE3WfRopGyPY/s547/Sarah%20First%20Day%20Senior%20Year.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="547" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2FhmGKync8LIfdpt9yMbnaRsql1jSCqfBOHmZZRtD_Au-5UY8MgYrpSm6MGmZTfA_xpdEQqDrbr20SjE98FB80pacEeiWZc-9s05CqHxvjltT2CRvSkCKM1bFpqk5J9jMjmi_RxjFneWAgExSHqaryZnCXSXVmVTCqaiVqaGFppeYQjUE3WfRopGyPY/s16000/Sarah%20First%20Day%20Senior%20Year.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif;">Wishing you a wonderful senior year, sweet girl.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif;">We love you, and are so very proud of you. <br /></span><span style="background-color: white;"><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Mom</i></b></span><br /><br /></span></div>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-91066938217894121042023-08-22T17:52:00.001-04:002023-08-22T17:52:49.270-04:00He-Twin's Last First Day of School His first day of 16th grade, He-Twin graciously accommodated my request for a back-to-school photo.<br />He even remembered the traditional backpack view. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig0QEjwCBOGTH_7_V6O2QmCpt516hE6hwnh61tsEH7u44KDZD4BFX1YsySPoGaixfCwNvI5B6gFMA-EFCg2LzQu3NDs42GYAX_SGEDC7cfoeX4LCjn4TFIfi9ZrW06EmncTkLZqOlJNm6SSn4TO_crrrZexiNjsB8BUMxXWMYnoc8wiKl9SbhaWsMPWs0/s410/First%20Day%20D%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig0QEjwCBOGTH_7_V6O2QmCpt516hE6hwnh61tsEH7u44KDZD4BFX1YsySPoGaixfCwNvI5B6gFMA-EFCg2LzQu3NDs42GYAX_SGEDC7cfoeX4LCjn4TFIfi9ZrW06EmncTkLZqOlJNm6SSn4TO_crrrZexiNjsB8BUMxXWMYnoc8wiKl9SbhaWsMPWs0/s16000/First%20Day%20D%20copy.jpg" /></a></div>Wishing you a wonderful senior year, sweet boy.<br />We love you, and are so very proud of you. <br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Mom</i> Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-34987739930872812492023-07-24T18:59:00.003-04:002023-07-24T19:21:24.215-04:00Our Beloved, Beautiful, Velveteen Van <p><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818;"><span style="font-family: times;">"You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818;"><span style="font-family: times;">But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand. <br /><br />He didn't mind how he looked to other people, because the nursery had make him Real, and when you are Real, shabbiness doesn't matter."</span></span><div><span style="font-family: times;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px;">―<b>from</b> </span><span class="authorOrTitle" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold;">Margery Williams', </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px;"></span><span id="quote_book_link_144974" style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px;"><a class="authorOrTitle" href="https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/1602074" style="color: #333333; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;">The Velveteen Rabbit</a></span></i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLTrIsMikBu-W1nkQFrJflfIcPehJ8jIgXiSEwimj2UWQSF-18KHcAhLwT42haFgYicTvlJXuR-EOX44jnGvgr_pYtKq2RpmrpJcVuTlupjEAFemGaact1tdivnBlG0zUY0Teh2Ad-c_5nxgxbVKOSmtz5CKaENQdFPM1BFhvjsV2fkbdbsPbO726Am1Y/s410/Her%20GoodSide%20.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="308" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLTrIsMikBu-W1nkQFrJflfIcPehJ8jIgXiSEwimj2UWQSF-18KHcAhLwT42haFgYicTvlJXuR-EOX44jnGvgr_pYtKq2RpmrpJcVuTlupjEAFemGaact1tdivnBlG0zUY0Teh2Ad-c_5nxgxbVKOSmtz5CKaENQdFPM1BFhvjsV2fkbdbsPbO726Am1Y/s16000/Her%20GoodSide%20.jpeg" /></a></div><br />Dented and dinged on every quarter panel....<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FPaU85rpwg5R6Y5pJLDYDRfBNkv4pPjllwfykVuugPQdm5JNEAF-6UgAedhwyW9vgyiYZC3tve0mPLQdDM_uBHZsJqsXeMvt-4qrunsfSC7P_2YZ1qUJ8DUIPE6zhicJm_2MLxfTPwY2_R7lELuhOQ00UBHnD9RzmZkSxDVlold0hrmcZslSz_aDPjg/s410/Worn%20but%20Loved.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="308" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FPaU85rpwg5R6Y5pJLDYDRfBNkv4pPjllwfykVuugPQdm5JNEAF-6UgAedhwyW9vgyiYZC3tve0mPLQdDM_uBHZsJqsXeMvt-4qrunsfSC7P_2YZ1qUJ8DUIPE6zhicJm_2MLxfTPwY2_R7lELuhOQ00UBHnD9RzmZkSxDVlold0hrmcZslSz_aDPjg/s16000/Worn%20but%20Loved.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: times;">With a biographical back-end...</span><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhML8ntSFJAXTSx3gcVlPmMq2Pk2H6JKiFFT-ReOWs1CFA4MhukGra-pK8Qv_bV8hlezSYMByn3N8sgD-zVF-RjK1p4Ck6fhUzC9vNw7CckkfPEWe-PjXgMPXa1Xs7R8qbMQ2aKRthZXuo1o7PZCwASAmHvPXd2pe9TNkk_VApfmEIc_b7RYWNwSbAbmMA/s410/Tells%20the%20Tales.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="308" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhML8ntSFJAXTSx3gcVlPmMq2Pk2H6JKiFFT-ReOWs1CFA4MhukGra-pK8Qv_bV8hlezSYMByn3N8sgD-zVF-RjK1p4Ck6fhUzC9vNw7CckkfPEWe-PjXgMPXa1Xs7R8qbMQ2aKRthZXuo1o7PZCwASAmHvPXd2pe9TNkk_VApfmEIc_b7RYWNwSbAbmMA/s16000/Tells%20the%20Tales.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: times;">In January, thieves robbed her of her original 2004 catalytic converter. <br />We got her a new one, and had it painted proudly with her VIN to ideally prevent another gross violation. Shortly thereafter, her transmission became irreparably slippy. <br />Her trusted doctors, the mechanics at Mercer and Woodson, shared the news tenderly. It was time.<br /><br />For weeks thereafter, she sat outside our home. Silent. Unmoving, until this afternoon. <br /><br />Her spirit of service and self-sacrifice will go on. <br />Her parts will be parceled out to help Habitat for Humanity.<br />She's The Giving Van. </span><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzSjatn-1yB_8QQJ6zMkRqIWPVPklOwlphHZfhGsNk4Bs6974EwSuPxatpDI0qrgALTo1jSPPFCMN9x56rADg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><span style="font-family: times;"><b>She-Twin</b> (home from college for the summer): "Mom, are you actually misty?" <br /><b>Me</b> (a truth-teller): "Yes, a little." <br /><br />Good-bye and thank you, you banged-up beauty. You served us well. You were Real.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-70451341052999205032023-07-05T10:50:00.003-04:002023-07-05T10:50:58.367-04:00Way Back When-esday - Daddy's Duo<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-BY4kQriFTo7SA5NTX7j7GIGnIlro4O07BFX8P1JYSD47zyBl7A_5Pzt1RUhq0GzV7hFd4Ztdn51Q4Mj42lwkxo7GWmIaDZbWF-LYoXN-6ixT0H03zXiLeQKVnfsczqTmQ3d46aHomT81FgONaVrj7ndUNGnPbDJ2YjbQEIXRWcdCMhYZj5k3r502Zs/s547/IMG_8143.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="547" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-BY4kQriFTo7SA5NTX7j7GIGnIlro4O07BFX8P1JYSD47zyBl7A_5Pzt1RUhq0GzV7hFd4Ztdn51Q4Mj42lwkxo7GWmIaDZbWF-LYoXN-6ixT0H03zXiLeQKVnfsczqTmQ3d46aHomT81FgONaVrj7ndUNGnPbDJ2YjbQEIXRWcdCMhYZj5k3r502Zs/s16000/IMG_8143.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Dateline:</i></b> June 18, 2023<br /><b><i>Twins' Age:</i></b> 21</div><br />Father's Day memory with these fabulous, full-grown favorite people. <br />How doubly-blessed their Daddy and I are. <br /><br />*If given the opportunity, we recommend <a href="https://www.pigandbrew.com/" target="_blank">Pig & Brew</a>. Delish...for dads, and everyone. <br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span><p></p>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-64399437571490290362023-06-14T19:24:00.001-04:002023-06-14T19:24:20.302-04:00Way Back When-esday - Pair at Play<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhdZRUTypl6IuRTrIydqzVUn5z0CjlHSibS-wdKGLObnOqkJmQad-9vs9ACuagOS86qlrY1opmBZJKPYk30TzgJjVVhPpwmv14Xf2Je6DeIs4z-7n8-1o3YJ2_ZZzA8S60dIDVIimApsodtN5dOQrKrLk8O1xxeVnIJklIZhiuEgBfLGrS1_AFlbi0/s240/August%202002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhdZRUTypl6IuRTrIydqzVUn5z0CjlHSibS-wdKGLObnOqkJmQad-9vs9ACuagOS86qlrY1opmBZJKPYk30TzgJjVVhPpwmv14Xf2Je6DeIs4z-7n8-1o3YJ2_ZZzA8S60dIDVIimApsodtN5dOQrKrLk8O1xxeVnIJklIZhiuEgBfLGrS1_AFlbi0/s16000/August%202002.jpg" /></a><br /><b>Dateline: </b>August 2002<br /><b>Twins' Age: </b>11 months<br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tiny photo of a tiny twosome. <br />In the early days of digital photos, I naively shrank pictures to share online, and saved them. <br />Unaware that they'd forever be "small"----the photos, not the kids. <br /><br />Memories of our duo in the den (since transitioned to Double Daddy's home office), warm my heart this mid-week. <br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span><br /><br /><br /></div><br /> <p></p>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-6649435017658325762023-05-31T21:06:00.000-04:002023-05-31T21:06:00.010-04:00Way Back When-esday - Fancy Fraternals<div class="separator"><div class="separator" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="384" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfuasxMa633k5PnB8OvYm2s_lycqN7v8hBegfJEQ0tlVrx24pEbkTJxTSr9zOakBVDO7rv8QwEo8-000mv4xTbXUcMcPTSXCd9ZRtr-slgH5uYRz4QS5_-JY9KDPcPyxmUn8_Ry5gvvBedb9oZuO-H2pbxpabbeC31SPk6HLLzY4vKb6y5o_J5X_1/s1600/April2016.jpeg" /><br /><b><i>Dateline: </i></b>April 2016<br /><b><i>Twins' Age:</i></b> 14 <br /><br />Suddenly, they both seemed so grown. <br />Heading to the 8th grade formal with a group of lifelong friends...so grown.<br />So gorgeous, the both of them. <br />They continue to grow more so---inside and out---every day. <br />Color me grateful.<br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div></div>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-60958961047189325762023-04-05T17:26:00.003-04:002023-04-05T17:26:46.221-04:00Way Back When-esday - Double Bubble Blowers<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="548" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjobEK8iJ3z4ogwgPVip0Q6T5apMJDbJBXLQnR0z1lSSMgBO-s0Fz2S7iyjHu25-aX8jQ32b8btOo5iEs8NBesAw8poedDe_avosb86Z-XRdme00_plMKH-NAHFmGnbG5qJegNmnv4LdDeBnWE22DTafirSx-0GvjEPZ01ZD-RlcJGvROFKNarpSydY/s1600/Bubbles08April%20055.jpg" /><br /><b><i>Dateline:</i></b> April 2008<br /><b><i>Twins' Age:</i></b> 6 <br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Spring days. Simple joys. Happy memories. <br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i><br /><br />-Cheryl</i></b></span></div></div><br /></div>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-18889640325620810802023-03-01T19:06:00.001-05:002023-03-01T19:06:16.485-05:00Way Back When-esday - Tie-Dye Twosome<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="331" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd81vaJg-jc2B_8ydCw_9N39satf7cigb6XT-lpfX_Ru2BKlbSrQFrhesPqfuxgRSGpaJCu-5grDDdvWACPEODlZX6I4KSzRIApWEZAqdZhzwRYUD8z5D7c_ObyrMog-w8NUJGImdROPXvIg4l5V6wsUB1pLSZJ_NMTs01XKW05AeU4jwKQX3MiJzF/s16000/March%202007.jpg" /><br /><b><i>Dateline:</i></b> March 2007<br /><b><i>Twins' Age: </i></b>5<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">When She-Twin and He-Twin were wee, we frequented an in-mall photography studio that regularly sent "free 8x10" coupons. Some of my favorite images of them were taken in that small, spartan space...the one above may have been the last before they closed the location. (And no, I didn't alway just take the free 8x10 and run!) <br /><br />Now, not only is Picture People closed, the entire mall has been shut down. The times, they are a changin'.<br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span></div></div></div>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-40376620057075787252023-02-22T14:49:00.005-05:002023-02-22T14:51:05.871-05:00Way Back When-esday - It's Official<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggJ-bRr1qODxXDwH0X0sP-Zhcbtq_EaUoWHVx4s6iJUoVyVvlVv_J83OJL0Y0aKtde_yro66Y9M0wOW7me3dMsK9LqZaDpaguz5TwMvT58L2puenlS_yqkIa64Ap2CreTwgEsiEKJOw_l5yz3ya4obGD7NQlXODcNN0dmCSRqM12MS-YG8JdQOLrJE/s401/Official.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="307" data-original-width="401" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggJ-bRr1qODxXDwH0X0sP-Zhcbtq_EaUoWHVx4s6iJUoVyVvlVv_J83OJL0Y0aKtde_yro66Y9M0wOW7me3dMsK9LqZaDpaguz5TwMvT58L2puenlS_yqkIa64Ap2CreTwgEsiEKJOw_l5yz3ya4obGD7NQlXODcNN0dmCSRqM12MS-YG8JdQOLrJE/s16000/Official.jpeg" /></a><br /><b><i>Dateline:</i></b> August 2013<br /><b><i>Twins' Age:</i></b> 11<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">After responding, "Seven minutes," when a double-stroller-eyeing Walmart shopper asked "How much older is your son?" with some agitation, she fired back, "But they are <i>NOT</i> twins!" <br /><br />Smiling, aware their size difference might be the source of her confusion, I assured her, "Yes, they are!"<br /><br />Not smiling, she verbally stomped, "They most certainly are <i>NOT</i>." <br /><br />If only we'd had the Nintendo DS ten years earlier. Maybe she'd have been convinced. <br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span><br /><br /><br /></div></div><p></p>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-88796534200684221212023-02-15T10:43:00.009-05:002023-02-15T10:49:55.921-05:00Way Back When-esday - Playground Pals<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAVxe_RJSZoB-xBdTS95foHbU1nXIVBTqS8mzyqPLTXzgbH1MPyQO3zcIX0dVTrmexxWuds-s3wPM4t-UhcLuD5VWvX03OX0zk7zbKotdHPix8P4b0_v4EsFRqDSFLm0aYxtqpE1NSrPlGFAIyVi6E0EvN2NJXeWvOIc_Hh8SaD35WMqMyYf0vHYPh/s410/April%202006.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="308" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAVxe_RJSZoB-xBdTS95foHbU1nXIVBTqS8mzyqPLTXzgbH1MPyQO3zcIX0dVTrmexxWuds-s3wPM4t-UhcLuD5VWvX03OX0zk7zbKotdHPix8P4b0_v4EsFRqDSFLm0aYxtqpE1NSrPlGFAIyVi6E0EvN2NJXeWvOIc_Hh8SaD35WMqMyYf0vHYPh/s16000/April%202006.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Dateline:</i></b> April 2006<br /><i><b>Twins' Age:</b> </i>4</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Breezy day in Richmond's Bryan Park. Smiles atop the slide. Moments that make memories. <br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span></div><br /><p></p>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-42151526701795507152023-02-08T11:06:00.002-05:002023-02-08T11:06:28.397-05:00Way Back When-esday - Send Out the Clowns<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ouZmlip6OvCGLFtp0NwJhKbSTxLmNym63pskQya8LrKG9zE3NoF0BITcIQtjTkAEiiXso3FpkIl4eaz9W07IRulBQFnFrXf1ZMuNTAryheGsrblvEdfpW4bF_E1RyCFV02KWA7RcwmGC_cXeepjAGq3aN0UjZcGysS_WWUtFTs45gPhJQdcs2xVr/s547/Age4%20Feb%202006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="547" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ouZmlip6OvCGLFtp0NwJhKbSTxLmNym63pskQya8LrKG9zE3NoF0BITcIQtjTkAEiiXso3FpkIl4eaz9W07IRulBQFnFrXf1ZMuNTAryheGsrblvEdfpW4bF_E1RyCFV02KWA7RcwmGC_cXeepjAGq3aN0UjZcGysS_WWUtFTs45gPhJQdcs2xVr/s16000/Age4%20Feb%202006.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Dateline:</i></b> February 2006<br /><b><i>Twins' Age:</i></b> 4</div><br />He's smiling sincerely. He seems warm and welcoming. He's graciously posing with our pair.<br />But, he's still a clown...and clowns...well, they're kinda creepy. <br /><br />Love He-Twin's grit-teeth grin, and brave both thumbs-up.<br />Love She-Twin's clutch at her brother's hand, and havin'-none-of-his-hand-on-her-shoulder side-eye. <p></p><p>Seventeen years later, both our babies are still brave, and boundary-setters! <br />(Thank you for providing an early opportunity to develop those skills, Steve the Clown.)<br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span><br /><br /><br /><br /></p>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-47293238039050560012023-02-01T22:32:00.001-05:002023-02-01T22:32:23.750-05:00Way Back When-esday - Snoozin' + Strollin' <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="547" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghRQEZy5pCAut_EP8OnhjYRM1jFKFVDUBJjTzCYZyu_m2a1h83sgVwmzLJLCU5VfPV4LbBN7shmdfZ_LZatyqTrMC_K_hmz5aZCkQA_WiVJim-sV35yhD0Y5vTuVstxz8oG5r9eXRZP6T5yu3qMXhPzIIzLNe0NJPyhJj4rlDvQ7W3DLK62RwbLFOb/s1600/StrollerBabies.jpg" /><br /><b><i>Dateline: </i></b>January 2003<br /><b><i>Twins' Age:</i></b> 1 <br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />Sweeties sleepin' in the sun. Seems like yesterday and a million years ago at the same time. What a gift the twenty years since have been. <br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-56426058295406327962023-01-25T22:04:00.004-05:002023-01-25T22:04:48.918-05:00Way Back When-esday - Balloon Buddies<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="548" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-7R-xhTQU5yN6mwF6yKGbV0v6kptv36lXuneux59VBNEybEDgGEmyPbmQ9MXtIdizzXjAUKevqRCxoIjF5qhRLxhawAkLAkb-PwsX-RQBTCKDPOdTwqTpHer4g1nXhA_p83ZOw_iWqUWMGTO1E0V7zAe-yftFzwvdFblQ55DlEyvKq2Gre86MKhM/s1600/Jan%2016%202008.jpg" /><br /><b><i>Dateline:</i></b> January 2008<br /><b><i>Twins' Age:</i></b> 6<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Memory fails in attempts to remember the occasion meriting home helium tank acquisition. No matter---the happy holders warm my heart this mid-week. <br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span><br /><br /></div></div><br /></div>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-39601749412157835142023-01-18T12:18:00.006-05:002023-01-18T12:18:56.802-05:00Way Back When-esday - Off to School<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUPPJeDd1JCTKrpxJftDaUlv0VGuRf1_TZS647Oqf9ax7jnwxLjeq5JjaVjAg36mlMZ8tAR4aSivdDxH4SeFCTaj2JpFargkvDvGTTAm7qUxfLsueBM7T95a04k1_sx4gS9luedS4O7wOuRS4McOPBn8JCFzD5_mRXr_8Vzhp9_qDpL1eF8Rl07SL5/s410/Jan%2017%202008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="307" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUPPJeDd1JCTKrpxJftDaUlv0VGuRf1_TZS647Oqf9ax7jnwxLjeq5JjaVjAg36mlMZ8tAR4aSivdDxH4SeFCTaj2JpFargkvDvGTTAm7qUxfLsueBM7T95a04k1_sx4gS9luedS4O7wOuRS4McOPBn8JCFzD5_mRXr_8Vzhp9_qDpL1eF8Rl07SL5/s16000/Jan%2017%202008.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Dateline:</i></b> January 17, 2008</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Twins' Age:</i></b> 6</div><p>Fifteen years ago this week, flakes were flying on the way in to two kindergarten classrooms. </p><p>This week, as He-Twin begins second semester of his junior year in college, and as She-Twin enjoys her last few days of winter break before returning for the same, no snowmen are on our radar. </p><p>Here's hoping the joy that spurred the sprinting to learn in 2008 is equally---surpassingly---present these coming days. </p><p><br /></p> <p></p>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-58657874839199411142022-12-07T19:02:00.003-05:002022-12-07T19:02:33.577-05:00Way Back When-esday - Tickled Twosome<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5WVxrW6m9AKw7aJR-kILFG1kTW6UmJhiWp_48g-SPwSWgxD6ogrqanD1ISYnAX2bhAEr1TgnCFr11jYuelelY0irmuIA0EMgfWtVI67LNoansMen3pQ8hgiQR1JG8BOR7VEYHQE9Xi3V3N8N4_67jeWrt4GqlgxFQ8cFCCj8pnYYknsaElIg0Um9/s547/2009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="547" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5WVxrW6m9AKw7aJR-kILFG1kTW6UmJhiWp_48g-SPwSWgxD6ogrqanD1ISYnAX2bhAEr1TgnCFr11jYuelelY0irmuIA0EMgfWtVI67LNoansMen3pQ8hgiQR1JG8BOR7VEYHQE9Xi3V3N8N4_67jeWrt4GqlgxFQ8cFCCj8pnYYknsaElIg0Um9/s16000/2009.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Dateline:</b> December 2008<br /><b>Twins' Age:</b> 7<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">As we count the days to Lagefest 2022, we remember a glimpse of Lagefest 2008.<br />Meeting Elmo during a day-trip to Legoland made our memorable time in Carlsbad, CA even more so. <br /><br />What are you recalling from "Way Back" this Wednesday? <br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div> <p></p>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-47267628417636048832022-09-11T10:12:00.001-04:002022-09-11T10:12:10.824-04:00Two Babies. Six Days. Two Towers. Twenty-one Years.<p> <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: arial, tahoma, verdana; font-size: 12px;">It was a Tuesday. Our twins’ very first one.</span></p><img alt="" border="0" class="aligncenter" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244432709928474130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEityBmPPxF5zG4Qm5OiCFxqShUO65sUdEnLpNiS10ulORClHsGd9rKAyONhIFvD29fch3XQ_iMcsN4tJbTSjmSIEly0aylYdf2CoILYx_Dhd8Ie62vp3jV8YutNzPJnrTkqk74oiUUBWgwj/s1600/2babies.JPG" style="background-color: white; border: 0px none; color: #333333; display: block; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; margin: 0px auto 10px; padding: 4px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: arial, tahoma, verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;">That morning at home began much like the delirious days preceding it: a 7:30am awkward and anxious tandem nursing, followed by double baby burping and dual diapering. As a first-time mom, I was adrift in the new-parent paranoia and hyper analysis of every hiccup and twitch — and yet simultaneously entranced by each finger movement and chest-inflating breath, times two. My treks up and down the stairs were strictly limited by doctor mandate to once or twice a day.After helping tend to the morning’s first baby maintenance session, my husband, Scott, was downstairs.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;" /><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;"></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">In a tone I’d never heard him use before (and haven’t heard him use since), a blend of tender concern and clear urgency, he yelled, “Honey, are you watching the news?” I quickly (well, as quickly as one can when maneuvering newborn twins with minimal body control) turned the television to <em>Today</em> on channel 12. Shots of a blazing World Trade Center North Tower filled the screen. In true Elizabeth Kubler-Rossian mode, my embarrassing, sleep-deprived first thought was that surely, the poor pilot must have been killed — entirely in denial that the hub of American business was undoubtedly populated with unsuspecting workers already seated at their desks for the morning.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">The commentators were reporting the damage was likely caused by a small plane…perhaps a privately owned Cessna. Never, <i>never</i> did I think for a solitary second the inferno we were all beholding was an intentional impact.<br /><i><br />An intentional impact</i>. Before that day, unimaginable.<br /><br />Minutes later, as we watched, the second plane, looking nothing like a Cessna, plowed headlong into the South Tower. From upstairs I screamed, “Honey! Someone needs to call the air traffic controllers in NYC! Somehow they’re misdirecting planes into the buildings…another one just hit! Another one just hit!”</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">Unaffected by the tag team of horror and twin-delivery intensified hormones, and nowhere near as naive as I, my husband knew to come upstairs and explain what was by then terrifyingly obvious to his — and most other Americans’ — eyes.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;"><em>An attack, here in America.</em></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">Chaos and conflicting stories prevailed that morning. Tales of upwards of 50 planes unaccounted for and potentially in enemy hands. White powder delivered to government offices. Estimates of potentially 10,000 dead. Military planes being scrambled. The President was in Florida. The White House and Capitol were being evacuated. A third plane, and the Pentagon — less than 10 miles away from my childhood home — was in flames. The hijacked Flight 93 went down in Pennsylvania…charred earth the only remnant.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">Within hours, New Yorkers rapidly produced flyers with photos of smiling dads, moms, sons and daughters that were hung all over the city. They were held aloft for the television cameras so that someone, <i>anyone</i>, might recognize the person pictured and provide the reassuring news so prayerfully sought. News that with each passing minute was increasingly unlikely to be heard. Hope-fueled optimism reigned – and slowly, against its will, waned — in the first 24, and 48, then 72 hours. The round-the-clock rescue efforts yielding way too few — hardly any — occupants for the recovery areas staffed and waiting nearby.<br /><br />Those heartbreaking visuals and so many others from those days are seared forever in our minds.The disturbingly twinkly confetti-like papers afloat around the plane-pierced structures. The police and fire department vehicles with their sirens blaring and their heroes aboard, racing full-speed toward an area that survival instincts would reflexively demand one avoid. Stunned people in business suits running out of buildings. Onlookers screaming, hiding their eyes, pointing, praying, crying. Victims waving — and then beyond comprehension, actually leaping — from the facades of the burning buildings.</div><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeaF85IjF0EoFLyT0vHSgAcHsEUtropVBzy8Ob-HBxC7zxbqa0Kgl7mYs871dCZev-6HoPvrM49khzVM92GlT6Opir-FlSVO_a9bDz7A4K8Ll9OYLJs4Y6pLOrqgIJ-BcLuu4U3kopP64/s1600/FDNY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #4f853c; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeaF85IjF0EoFLyT0vHSgAcHsEUtropVBzy8Ob-HBxC7zxbqa0Kgl7mYs871dCZev-6HoPvrM49khzVM92GlT6Opir-FlSVO_a9bDz7A4K8Ll9OYLJs4Y6pLOrqgIJ-BcLuu4U3kopP64/s1600/FDNY.jpg" style="border: 1px solid rgb(255, 255, 255); padding: 4px;" /></a></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;"><br />A personal video from the POV of being pulled into a coffee shop to escape the billowing cloud of collapse, with the audio of “thank you, thank you, thank you.” Al Qaeda training camp videos with hooded practitioners navigating overhead monkey bars. The iconic antenna atop WTC1 descending slowly into an expanding column of dust.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;"><em>Then, new pictures.</em></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">Emerging from the horrific aftermath, a surge of patriotism. On our near-daily drives to the pediatrician’s office for twin baby weight checks, ever increasing numbers of flags hung outside homes, offices, stores and from car antennae. Business marquees no longer touted “Buy One, Get One Free” or “Help Wanted;” but instead, proclaimed “We Love You, New York,” “We Will Never Forget,” and “God Bless America.”</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">The most rote of routines became less mundane. 3000+ families started September 11th as if it were any other day. Re-evaluation of even the most miniscule, theretofore taken for granted aspects of day to day life seemed in order. As I dried myself after a shower, newly acquainted with the word “Taliban,” I couldn’t help but imagine how grateful an Afghani woman might be for my warm, thick towel. Something that could be used for far more virtuous purpose than merely wicking away the moisture from a freshly clean new mother. An Afghan mother might have nothing in which to swaddle her newborn baby.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">What if a woman in this horridly repressive culture had twins?</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">How were those women there envisioning our lives?</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">The concept and purpose of a burqua was (and is) difficult for me to understand. In those first days with our new babies, unashamedly, I found myself not only immodestly “uncovered,” but frequently bare from the waist up. Did that mean that I, a new mother of beautiful, pure, innocent twins, would be viewed as immoral? Whorish? Incomprehensible beliefs so varied from our own…felt so very passionately, that dispassionately, murderous evil could be enacted under the misguided assignation of martyrdom.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">Vividly, I remember my thankfulness, that amongst so many other blessings — in positioning the twins to nurse, they were facing me…and not the future-altering images that filled the TV screen. As an adult, as an American, as a mother, it was my obligation to face those images…and to mourn with those who were mourning.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">Yet amidst the devastation, the molten towers’ girders seemed to find reincarnate solidity in heroes whose stories began to emerge — and continue to emerge today.</div><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDvlPoP6QppOvzR9asKtSfyVrBdphEz7OfzmUooVFQdlyBvcWjht1eFlUQT3CnlySgXb6ePWhcFulaARMGn50xgSy2756X4LCdWI3YK-DXFv2Ym2pBrK2tEU0Am_VYTqstN5rIrzysgm8/s1600/IMG_0985.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #4f853c; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDvlPoP6QppOvzR9asKtSfyVrBdphEz7OfzmUooVFQdlyBvcWjht1eFlUQT3CnlySgXb6ePWhcFulaARMGn50xgSy2756X4LCdWI3YK-DXFv2Ym2pBrK2tEU0Am_VYTqstN5rIrzysgm8/s1600/IMG_0985.jpg" style="border: 1px solid rgb(255, 255, 255); padding: 4px;" /></a></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;"><br />Forever linked to our family’s personal history, Scott and I pay rapt attention annually to the documentaries, the interviews, the tributes. Each September, our emotions careen from giddy twin birthday celebrations on the 5th, to grave solemnity on the 11th. Then, we move on. Always remembering. Forever united, a family…micro and macro.</div><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6BL-p0rrELIYjqlyX7MDDSYAhIkpRdRHXO03Bs4fjEWA2rMlaetKePVUHDdNg1GaP8JWekLdeQdE-5e5-fF3X2-arhsfScRLxpLHsFTrDPr5QnCC8zGQvGaOTIxtVaL7G5_OZubBjdU/s1600/FreedomTower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #4f853c; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6BL-p0rrELIYjqlyX7MDDSYAhIkpRdRHXO03Bs4fjEWA2rMlaetKePVUHDdNg1GaP8JWekLdeQdE-5e5-fF3X2-arhsfScRLxpLHsFTrDPr5QnCC8zGQvGaOTIxtVaL7G5_OZubBjdU/s1600/FreedomTower.jpg" style="border: 1px solid rgb(255, 255, 255); padding: 4px;" /></a></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Verdana; line-height: 20px; padding: 0px 0px 10px;"><strong style="color: #333333; font-size: 12px;">Gratitude. Grief. Grace.</strong><i style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 20.8px;"><br />We will always remember the events of 9-11...and will post this piece annually on that day.</i><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 20.8px;"><i style="color: #333333; font-size: 12.8px; font-weight: bold;">Never forget.</i><br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span></span></div>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-82358147852456584702022-09-05T11:59:00.002-04:002022-09-05T11:59:27.074-04:00Twinfatuated for 21 Years...and Counting<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHuB71aDyNtCf9Be69lLeNaLHlvDfTF3iiCxxzXstkye6TuO5eq9EpLlVo7wFFEoldPO6r5s0SPIvBzlM3rD-kexq3mH7k7MM8w4bik87DoE_BJqPU1vXVBpWnnRHonCrXDneMJ8Bcf-X_zZxat_lBxRm02c7xKWhrtIqocUrfJDkbF8M68MF32MpM/s1600/IMG_6507.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="308" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHuB71aDyNtCf9Be69lLeNaLHlvDfTF3iiCxxzXstkye6TuO5eq9EpLlVo7wFFEoldPO6r5s0SPIvBzlM3rD-kexq3mH7k7MM8w4bik87DoE_BJqPU1vXVBpWnnRHonCrXDneMJ8Bcf-X_zZxat_lBxRm02c7xKWhrtIqocUrfJDkbF8M68MF32MpM/s16000/IMG_6507.jpeg" /><br /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXTAp_xG5tPjBrk7HReFJDqWTZn57HolXuUVfqWbiePj1DL3488ReRGCUVWJq59cX3avLnlokNVrFu4PovkesoqRsGyJbApPtvlhgatHp_aki5QoruFNWzwfOygTMayv4hJC7WDrabL_hcHbcEqpn1XWVknVfnq8rWkAL2dFTrCk2icRKuk4H7bsks/s547/one%20willy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="547" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXTAp_xG5tPjBrk7HReFJDqWTZn57HolXuUVfqWbiePj1DL3488ReRGCUVWJq59cX3avLnlokNVrFu4PovkesoqRsGyJbApPtvlhgatHp_aki5QoruFNWzwfOygTMayv4hJC7WDrabL_hcHbcEqpn1XWVknVfnq8rWkAL2dFTrCk2icRKuk4H7bsks/s16000/one%20willy.jpg" /></a><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="331" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvNE98z66qJlH-TORIsaB-jau-kx2MOwX22mMkR8ZsWsIUgYaMyqO1B2IMrg6UWozf3ZqAoOn9tf5CfevnjOufKsYTASF59i5YZ-l-K59-o0twweoaq_MCEZTzMApLakjx1oAvDN6SC5BmcRsF3vDCs4DsEAY2zIvbzbWVF_NzL3TVfzjQ10xOBNa/s16000/LageTwinsMultiplesMagazine.jpg" /></a><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJL4LngT1RpKHo8dKAeA4aDdA6p_MB6MwhLdmvI7KSWfg9T8DZSwAWYtpYFlhe0fI29bK02qJTbkvGMaGIro-eLH38z64O6S9ZzB3q3ltvO3_Csc8wU1JQcGcU2KXiJEYIcBD-u2XnW_0JG2N7-ypfJGuwxkY9q0N32OuQwIcGlTTWW1pHnXDY0tp7/s410/SandDTogether%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="327" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJL4LngT1RpKHo8dKAeA4aDdA6p_MB6MwhLdmvI7KSWfg9T8DZSwAWYtpYFlhe0fI29bK02qJTbkvGMaGIro-eLH38z64O6S9ZzB3q3ltvO3_Csc8wU1JQcGcU2KXiJEYIcBD-u2XnW_0JG2N7-ypfJGuwxkY9q0N32OuQwIcGlTTWW1pHnXDY0tp7/s16000/SandDTogether%20(2).jpg" /></a><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmPcIpGEApGUp0wL6A8DAsRvRqEeSNo-xZdwTU9qUzCgL-96o5HpmM_hbQ5IyKEYcf3JRxqnXbX59WjM-ISWwJkBrjPWITuMS7DX4CgGmlx82XhcmiWUJMibpVUyd8cLCHsCFrwktWoi6c5OUKTp3Tiqt6dbhJbK6LPiZYM3HB3vqcnDQULFw845ru/s410/IMG_4581.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="308" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmPcIpGEApGUp0wL6A8DAsRvRqEeSNo-xZdwTU9qUzCgL-96o5HpmM_hbQ5IyKEYcf3JRxqnXbX59WjM-ISWwJkBrjPWITuMS7DX4CgGmlx82XhcmiWUJMibpVUyd8cLCHsCFrwktWoi6c5OUKTp3Tiqt6dbhJbK6LPiZYM3HB3vqcnDQULFw845ru/s16000/IMG_4581.jpeg" /></a><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMjXMclE2AWxJeIAJwQ4HOON2rE9i7xt9zabifPVwP580qu_fEZV5_aqOxrFUy_GfHHBnr2VKingiBP0KzvwZK1FJ-7WeSFloS6PAf0HfRopW8xDtO6tloHv-WlVO0Li6gDZoJ6w0Y9JHunGrzlV41Lncrlkd8CTOFS-VoCGn8pfdqNS7et40pmB52/s533/IMG_4745.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMjXMclE2AWxJeIAJwQ4HOON2rE9i7xt9zabifPVwP580qu_fEZV5_aqOxrFUy_GfHHBnr2VKingiBP0KzvwZK1FJ-7WeSFloS6PAf0HfRopW8xDtO6tloHv-WlVO0Li6gDZoJ6w0Y9JHunGrzlV41Lncrlkd8CTOFS-VoCGn8pfdqNS7et40pmB52/s16000/IMG_4745.jpeg" /></a><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1fsjtqpLcLMBS5tbLiJ4TxBn_ujZR1___NjHfrc1LkJ82sv6Gs87ifIii7D9ufpD6IAFAiM_t4duMmos_mxxn6tdQqpxP58wug5E1nXAXHB38viBpDP8hTSL0EVDOKHXBxpa14s8RpiE4C_RB2lMLIv8rxforT65rzKtpinbTBbQld_nDL4HMzuie/s410/IMG_5926.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="308" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1fsjtqpLcLMBS5tbLiJ4TxBn_ujZR1___NjHfrc1LkJ82sv6Gs87ifIii7D9ufpD6IAFAiM_t4duMmos_mxxn6tdQqpxP58wug5E1nXAXHB38viBpDP8hTSL0EVDOKHXBxpa14s8RpiE4C_RB2lMLIv8rxforT65rzKtpinbTBbQld_nDL4HMzuie/s16000/IMG_5926.jpeg" /></a></div><br />Happiest of 21st birthdays to our precious pair. Adore the young adults you've become. <br />Love you today, and always. <br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Mom </i></b></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-5556208478430744962022-08-31T12:35:00.002-04:002022-08-31T12:35:39.055-04:00Way Back When-esday - Fresh First Days<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio1kUG9XqzlRh3Iw6_Nguu7rimyHa4uniNUBe4VBTqgQ0WDS49eB7fdVVezLvsrXSoDcHOsUHUBTCRBbSznmzzTyTVpd7SqkthEfgZ1DE_TtKpIv3kvgMREH_bIx8cEuVneHcO1apf7emzmtdz3HeXfWgjKUyiU2GLeT6KNPPZ1JB3Lcb6lDaB_19K/s410/FrontJuniors.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio1kUG9XqzlRh3Iw6_Nguu7rimyHa4uniNUBe4VBTqgQ0WDS49eB7fdVVezLvsrXSoDcHOsUHUBTCRBbSznmzzTyTVpd7SqkthEfgZ1DE_TtKpIv3kvgMREH_bIx8cEuVneHcO1apf7emzmtdz3HeXfWgjKUyiU2GLeT6KNPPZ1JB3Lcb6lDaB_19K/s16000/FrontJuniors.jpeg" /></a><br /><b>Dateline: </b>August 24, 2022 & August 31, 2022 (respectively)<br /><b>Twins' Age:</b> 20 + 360/365ths<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">These sweet scholars are officially college juniors, and were both kind enough to indulge their folks with traditional "first-day of school" photos. <br /><br />Including our annual "backpack" view...<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG10TpklpjidoSWwZVY-bXUEhPedUeOlMRNp48GmzK4JzW-uBzZc381uGZgP1-S8R2pMyuVTQF3HZJOTCQnk9hFOoyewfminjAu1uJdNNg0tGlVIg4zsgDIkf16sdCZ_l_VcatSwElkml2rreCEBJdFYsiFYwGDirpyTN_RvggxyQ2yKAY9EDNMyQA/s410/BackJuniors.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG10TpklpjidoSWwZVY-bXUEhPedUeOlMRNp48GmzK4JzW-uBzZc381uGZgP1-S8R2pMyuVTQF3HZJOTCQnk9hFOoyewfminjAu1uJdNNg0tGlVIg4zsgDIkf16sdCZ_l_VcatSwElkml2rreCEBJdFYsiFYwGDirpyTN_RvggxyQ2yKAY9EDNMyQA/s16000/BackJuniors.jpeg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />Wishing them the most wonderful of years---until next year, which we hope is more wonderful still.<br />Love you both so!<br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><br /> <p></p>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787681399151115706.post-75215678528151611452022-08-24T19:39:00.002-04:002022-08-24T19:39:14.587-04:00Way Back When-esday - Kindergarten Kids<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyIyQMnbJky5T53BCjCDaXaFctxevNbK_jqyAqTJa_zJtMrotsIqPkYvgF_IAoIz7pi34EkOgUH0VXvMr3xusjNdDAlFpTd6PvVuFRNhorLxaTiam2z9yFpVHv5ZRQUKFZHQjivgIjna8HS25Ukb4RExJ2nOzL6gacGEbEWCuGSQLoC94u2VpiIwov/s410/Kindergarten%202007.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="307" data-original-width="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyIyQMnbJky5T53BCjCDaXaFctxevNbK_jqyAqTJa_zJtMrotsIqPkYvgF_IAoIz7pi34EkOgUH0VXvMr3xusjNdDAlFpTd6PvVuFRNhorLxaTiam2z9yFpVHv5ZRQUKFZHQjivgIjna8HS25Ukb4RExJ2nOzL6gacGEbEWCuGSQLoC94u2VpiIwov/s16000/Kindergarten%202007.jpg" /></a><br /><b>Dateline:</b> September 6, 2007<br /><b>Twins' Age:</b> 6 years + 1/2 day<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Little scholars ready for their first day at Linwood Holton Elementary School. <br /><br />Today, He-Twin started his junior year at VCU. Next Wednesday, She-Twin kicks off her junior year at W&M. Lots of book learning, and lots of life learning in the nearly 15 years since this image was taken. <br /><br />Lots of love, too. <br /><br /><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>-Cheryl</i></b></span></div></div><p></p>Cheryl Lagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03368796775852338505noreply@blogger.com0