Christmas Cheer

So is everyone ready for the holidays? Is anyone else sick of that question?

We are ready, at least as ready as we can be with two 5-year-olds who believe that writing a Christmas list to Santa means Santa will be bringing everything on that list. Including a go-kart (real-life-sized). This despite the normal rounds of repeated tantrums and whining and general rowdy craziness that ensues when two boys try to outdo each other in the volume department.

Nathan has started a new type of temper tantrum whenever he "loses" at something - Wii Sports, UNO, whatever. He throws down whatever he's got in his hands (Wii remotes, cards, etc) and then STOMPS off to his room, shouting at the top of his LUNGS that THIS IS THE WORST DAY EVER and that he is THE WORST PLAYER EVER and he cries and stomps some more and slams the door repeatedly. We've learned mainly to ignore him because it's just too funny. And kind of sad, yes. Because he really is the WORST PLAYER EVER. (Not really.)

His pre-school teacher once commented about the boys' perfectionist streak (i.e. crying and insisting on starting all over whenever they messed up writing their names) and I told her that it was because we made them do things over and over and over and over again until they got it right. And as she paused in horror to absorb what I had said, I realized that it didn't sound as funny when it came out as it did in my head. Teachers don't like to think you are mentally abusing your children apparently. Noted.

Jack has fits that are much more quiet by comparison, and yet, not any less annoying. Our only threat to both of them has the been the ubiquitous SANTA-IS-WATCHING-YOU threat. And what will I do after Thursday?

There have been many sweet moments as the boys are finally (after 5 years on earth) realize what Christmas is all about - and of course I mean secrets and presents. They each picked a present for the other, and it's been the biggest challenge to convince them to keep the secret from each other. Then they have some kind of secret with Miss Jessica (our nanny) that I'm sure will be unveiled later this evening when we do our Christmas with her and Miss Ashley. Nathan has told me "It's NOT a nativity set." (That really threw me off track.)

Original Jokes (and a Public Service Announcement)

Nathan: "Mommy, want to hear a joke I made up?"

Me: "Of course!"

Nathan: "Knock, knock."

Me: "Who's there?"

Nathan: "Pants."

Me: "Pants who?"

Nathan: "Pants aren't you glad I didn't say underpants again?"

Me: "???"

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(And another original, this time from Jack.)

Jack: "What is a skeleton's nickname?"

Me: "I don't know."

Jack: "A skulleton."

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(On their way to Chuck E. Cheese's for lunch...)

Nathan: "Yay! That place has games and rides!"

Jack: "And they're a proud sponsor of PBS Kids!"

Language Lessons

Nathan: "Daddy, what's a windshield?"

Byron: "Well, break the word apart. What's wind?"

Nathan: "Wind is the air outside."

Byron: "And what's a shield?"

Nathan: "A thing that protects you."

Byron: "So put that together. What's a windshield?"

Nathan: "A thing that protects you from the wind?"

Byron: "Right. Good job."

Nathan: "Daddy, what's a 'doh'?"

Byron: "Like dough to make bread?"

Nathan: "No, a 'doh'. What is it?"

Byron: "Like what Homer Simpson says? He says 'doh' when he's mad."

Nathan: "No, a 'doh'! Like wind-dow!"

Byron: "Oh...Well, that one doesn't work when you try it break it down I guess."

A Helping Hand

This morning I awoke to my boys' voices. I finally deciphered that they were in the bathroom together. But doing what? I wearily pulled myself out of bed and, in the bathroom, found Jack sitting on the toilet and Nathan holding a toddler wipe (like a baby wipe but flushable).

Nathan said to Jack, "But Jack, I know how to do it!"

Then Jack said, "But I don't want you to do it!"

And then I realized what was going on. Nathan was going to wipe Jack's butt.

After shuddering internally for a moment, I replied, "That's very sweet Nathan, but most people don't want someone else to wipe their butt. Unless it's Mommy or Daddy."

Lucky me.

Rico Sauve

Jack: "Mommy, what's a distraction? Miss Katie says we can't cause a distraction."

Mommy: "Well, a distraction is something that keeps someone from doing what they are supposed to be doing."

Jack: "You mean like - hey, your dress is very beautiful."

Mommy: "What? Um, no. Uh, I mean, that's more of a compliment."

Jack (thoughtfully): "Oh."

(I'm not sure what to make of this one. Is he saying this to the girls at school??!! Maybe his teacher has told him that HE'S the distraction. Ugh.)

Birthday Celebrations

So yesterday was my 34th birthday. It started in the morning with my husband leaving for a business trip at 5am, meaning that I would on my own all week. Then the boys got up and told me to come into their room and then close my eyes because they had a surprise for me: they picked out their own clothes and got dressed without help. Now that's a great birthday gift (and I truly mean that). No matter that they were a little under dressed for the weather.

When I got home from work, the boys ecstatically greeted me in the garage, telling me that they were ready to "celebrate!!" They led me inside, each pulling on my arms, to show me the birthday artwork they had made for me. Miss Jessica had spelled out H-A-P-P-Y B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y in large open letters, which the boys colored in, adding stickers and drawings. They pointed out all of the pictures they had drawn, which included fireworks and birds and bats (the animal kind). I LOVE everything about it. I'm going to keep it up on the wall forever.

Jack then told me, "Today is your birthday, so that means you get to do anything you want. I think we should pretend it's all our birthdays and then we should play video games." Of course.

So that was my birthday. Another year older - and I couldn't be happier.

Snippets

Grandpa: "Nathan, do you have any 'henweighs'?"

Nathan: "I have 57 henweighs!"

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Mom: "I love you, Jack."

Jack: "Well, I love you 350 miles per hour."

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Jack: "Mommy, can I play my recordian? I mean my marmomica?"

Mommy: "You mean your harmonica?"

Jack: "Yeah, that's what I said."

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Nathan: "Before I put on my underwear, I always check to make sure there's no poop in there."

Semantics

Nathan: "Why do they call these seats 'bleachers'?"

Byron: "I'm not sure. That's just what they're called."

Nathan: "Kind of like they call us humans, I guess."

Summer

Yesterday, I got to spend a wonderful summer day with my boys. Byron was golfing with a friend, so we declared it to be a "Mommy and Her Boys Day." We went to the pool, we rode bikes in the park, we got ice cream cones, we played games at home. It was great. It was about 90% fun and 10% whining. An extremely good day.

I've been so down lately, wanting to do more summer activities with the boys. So this was a much-needed day of fun for us all. Yay for summer. I'll be sad to see it end. School is starting up again all too soon (although at least our school, pre-school that is, will not be starting until after Labor Day, which is the way it should be in my opinion) and then next week, my boys are going to be off to college. Or at least that's how it feels. Time moves all too fast.

Stunted Growth

I marked the boys' height on the wall next to the hall closet again the other day. I hadn't marked them for about two months, and yet, despite my best efforts to stunt their growth by serving them only four different types of food, they have grown another inch taller. How is this possible? All parenting literature tells me that if children don't eat a variety of healthy foods, they won't grow. And yet, according to the wall in my hallway, they've grown at least four inches over the last year.

Could it be the hormones in the milk? Nope. We only serve them organic. (Unless the grocery store is out of organic milk - in which case the trade-off in wasting more gas to drive to the other grocery store to see if they have organic milk seems trite.)

I know I should just let this go, but it's a big source of my parenting guilt. The nutrition debate rages on - you know, where the experts say children need healthy foods in order to sustain their lives and yet somehow my generation lived on mac-and-cheese and kool-aid - and I just feel like I'm failing at it. We continue to offer new foods to the two growing-yet-still-short people in our house but are met with more resistance than acceptance. My friend Katie has a boy just a little older than my two and that child eats more than a grown man does. My two eat mostly bread, hamburger buns, hot dog buns, reduced-fat Cheezits (that's sort of healthy, right?), waffles, cereal, pretzels, fruit and baby carrots. And orange juice and milk. And water (does that count?). Nathan eats corn dogs (but not plain hot dogs, and certainly not a hot dog IN a hot dog bun). Jack eats cheese pizza (except when it looks "funny" according to his vague standards) and chicken nuggets (but only when shaped as dinosaurs and then only certain brands).

A few small recent victories:

• Both boys eat sushi!! But only California rolls, minus the avocado, and taken apart to their respective components: rice, cucumber, crab, no paper. Still, it's my excuse to get sushi take-out whenever possible.
• Jack tried one single, tiny bite of broccoli and declared it was like eating a tiny tree. He is not planning to eat more broccoli.
• Nathan and Jack both ate a leaf of spinach. They are very proud that they tried it but are not ready to try again.

So we'll keep on keeping on. I'm hoping now that they are 5, they'll be more receptive to trying new things. We'll see how that goes.

On a somewhat related note, do you think growing four inches in a year could be the reason they've been so cranky and not-fun lately? (Luckily, they are only cranky and not-fun for me and Byron, and occasionally Miss Jessica. For grandparents and friends, the boys are "delightful!", "no trouble at all! " and "so polite!" Whatever.) Four inches is a lot of bone-stretching in one year. Poor guys.

Birthday Boys

The boys have just returned from my mom's house. We've spent the week preparing for the Second Annual Big Kahuna Waterslide Birthday Party. This is a big deal, people. My tiny babies have turned 5 years old. I'm not sure how that's possible but it did happen. They went from chubby little toddlers to tall, skinny boys in a year. Last year, they still had round cheeks and pudgy bellies. This year, they are lean and mean (well maybe not mean.)

So happy birthday to my little guys. I'm a better person because you are part of my life. It's not easy to have two babies at once, but there's a part of me that feels you are even more special because of it. As I watch you grow together, I'm constantly amazed by your connection - and honestly, a little bit jealous. You have a way of looking at each other that just cracks you both up. I'm never quite in on the joke, but I'm happy to be around just the same. You've taught me more than I ever knew I would know - mostly about butts and farts and poop and boy body parts, but also about the stars and dreams and books and sports and love. It's a great journey and I can't wait to see what's next.

Just wanted to let you know: I'm so proud to be your mommy.

It's Nice to Be Wanted But...

This morning, Nathan came running down the hall, feet flying. His final destination was the bathroom. Then he backed up to my room, poked his head and said, "Mommy, when I call your name, come wipe my butt."

Sigh.

Laying Down the Law

Nathan: "Miss Jessica, get me some cereal."

MJ: "Nathan, you need to say 'please' when you ask for something."

Nathan: (long pause and long stare) "At my grandpa's house, I don't have to say 'please'."

MJ: "Well, this is not grandpa's house."

Graduation Day

Mommy: So tomorrow is our graduation party and we'll have to make sure you guys are wearing something nice for pictures.

Nathan: To make us handsome? Like something with buttons?

Spelling Bee

The other evening, completely out of the blue, Byron asks me, "Hey, did you ever talk to their teacher about their g-r-a-d-u-a-t-i-o-n?"

As I paused to decipher what the hell that spells, Nathan piped up, "Does that spell graduation?"

Crap. Our days of spelling are about over.

Happy Birthday to Byron

Today is my husband's birthday. Yes, he's younger than me, by six months. He never fails to tell our children that he is younger than me - or as J&N like to say it - he is "smaller" than me. (Which is he is NOT, by the way.)

Two mornings ago, I asked the boys what they wanted to get Daddy for his birthday (I didn't plan ahead very well). Nathan ignored me but Jack said he wanted to get Daddy some blue boots, because blue is Daddy's favorite color. I confess that I didn't know blue was his favorite color, nor that he needed boots. But whatever. I found it charming and funny.

I called Byron on my way to work that morning and told him the story. He found it charming and funny as well. No, he didn't need any boots. Blue was okay, but he wasn't crazy about having a pair of boots in that color.

Then I repeated the tale to a friend of mine at work.

To my amazement and glee, she said, "I know where you can get him some blue boots." Apparently, at the tractor supply store, they sell this kind of thing all the time, things that city girls like me never see at Target. So she got me a pair of blue boots to give my husband tonight.

I'm writing this up now because I know there is about a 0.0009% chance that Byron will read my blog before I give him his birthday gifts tonight. And it's just too funny to wait. I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE HIS FACE WHEN HE OPENS HIS NEW BLUE BOOTS.

And believe me, he will wear them.

Morning Angst

It's very weird that most of my struggles with the boys are all related to getting ready in the morning. Now, I'm the first to admit that among my working mommy friends, I have it pretty good. We have two FANTASTIC and AMAZING babysitters who alternate days and come to our house each morning to take care of the boys. We are incredibly blessed to have them in our lives and equally thankful that our children have not scared them off after four years.

Now that Jack and Nathan are in preschool three mornings a week, the girls get our boys off to school on those days as well. So I try to do my part to not just get myself ready but to help the boys on their way as well. That means I ask them to get dressed and make their beds on school days. Also, if they want to play video games on non-school days, they have to get dressed and make their beds then as well.

Okay, so we do pretty good most days. I should clarify that I help with the bed-making. It would be freaking amazing if they could do it on their own, but let's be realistic. So I help them out. Also, I put out a pile of clothes for each boy - socks, underwear, shirt, pants. I don't mess with a chore chart, because, let's face it - I'm lazy. I tried to do the chore chart thing but I kept forgetting to make a new one each week, and it's just too much for me. So never mind.

The whole point of this long, rambling tale is that our boys are so different in their personalities. With twins, you have to be careful not to stereotype. You can't say - oh, this one is my troublemaker and this one is my angel. That would be horrible. Seriously. Don't do that. Why? Not only is it mean to your kids, but it will come back to haunt you - and swiftly.

So right now, Jack likes to cooperate a little more "quickly" shall we say, than Nathan. Jack likes video games. It's his favorite thing in the entire world. Nathan likes more to watch Jack play video games, at least in the morning. So when we do the whole get-dressed-make-your-bed-before-you-can-play-video-games thing, Nathan could really care less.

This morning, case in point. He sat around completely naked for an hour and fifteen minutes, telling me NO MOMMY! YOU MAKE MY BED!! I WILL NOT MAKE MY BED! YOU GET ME DRESSED! I CANNOT GET DRESSED!

Then Miss J arrived and was able to convince him to get dressed in approximately one minute.

That's when we noticed that his pants were about three inches too short. Ugh. And of course, when we tell him to take off his pants to exchange them for ones that fit, what do you think happened? Of course he would not do that. He loved those pants and only those would do.

Whatever. I just went to work. I did tell Miss J to make sure the preschool teacher knows we tried to get him to wear different pants. Boys. Sigh.

Wake Up Call

I had to get up early for work today (joy!) and of course, Jack woke up early as well (ruining my plans for a quiet escape before the children needed me). Once he was dressed and had made his bed, which are the required morning chores for my two four-year-olds, he was allowed to play video games. Yes, at 6:25am. Don't judge me - I need diversion so that I can put makeup on.

Jack was playing alone quite contentedly but kept asking me when Nathan was going to get up, so he could play video games too. I kept telling him that Nathan was asleep as it was VERY EARLY and maybe he should go back to bed also. Needless to say, he didn't agree.

Finally, I heard a terrific shout from Jack and found him approximately one inch away from Nathan's sleeping face, yelling, "Nathan! NATHAN!!! WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO WAKE UP???!!!"

That woke Nathan up. He was luckily not screaming himself, having been awoken in such a fashion, but was instead rather groggy. And still not ready to play video games, much to Jack's disappointment.

Poetry

Last night, N and J were talking goofy in their room and I was listening at the door. Among the snatches of nonsense, I heard N say: "I swallowed a car, so my heart could drive somewhere else."

The Sweetest Sound

Last night, I had just shut off my book-reading nightlight when I heard the pitter-patter of little feet from the other bedroom. I held my breath, waiting. Then the feet passed our room, went to the bathroom, and went potty all by themselves. Then, THEN (and this is where it gets wonderful) those feet went back to their own room and got back into bed and went to sleep.

Ahhhh. Here's to a good night's sleep for once...

The DVR Has Ruined Them

You know mister, when I was your age, there was no pausing-of-live-tv-watch-any-show-we-wanted-to-at-any-time-of-day. No, when I was your age, if we missed Sesame Street, we just had to live with it.

And this On Demand stuff. On Demand is a nice way for the cable company to market a service, but it's not how you need to ask Mommy for stuff. A little more please and thank you and a little less on demand would be nice around here.

Sigh.

Personality Test for Preschoolers

Good morning! Time to rise and greet the day. To help you get started, here's a little quiz to help you decide what kind of day it will turn out to be.

Mommy asks you to "get dressed and make your bed." You:
A. Comply. Mother is a wise and wondrous being who is trying to help you become a productive member of society at some point in your lifetime.
B. Ignore her. Oswald has those kickin' songs performed by Fred Savage. You don't even know who he is or that he won our hearts in The Wonder Years, but he was apparently born to be an octopus.
C. Cry. Putting on clothes and making beds is out of the realm of the reasonable. How dare she order you about like that! Punishment must be swift and without mercy.

Mom says it's time to eat breakfast. You decide to:
A. Choose a healthy and appropriate food source for your first meal of the day, such as toast, cereal or waffles, washed down with a cold glass of milk.
B. Ignore her. Despite claiming repeatedly to be hungry at bedtime the previous night, that darn Noggin is just too intoxicating to ignore. Maybe that'll teach Mommy to let you watch TV just so she can selfishly get herself into the shower.
C. Agree to eat, but only if the table fare is fruit snacks and Ritz crackers.

You still haven't gotten dressed. Mommy is about to leave for work and insists you GET DRESSED NOW. What do you do?
A. Get dressed in the clothes Mother has graciously selected for you, without complaint. You do love blue, and she remembered that. Isn't she sweet?
B. Hastily choose clothing items of your own. Last year's soccer shorts with an undershirt when it's 31 degrees outside works just fine. For kicks, insist on wearing your Curious George slippers just to watch her head explode.
C. Stand firm. Go to school wearing your pajamas. Who's going to notice? That'll learn that woman who's always telling you what to do.

If your answers are mostly A's, congratulations. You are well on your way to restored video game privileges.

If your answers are mostly B's, your apathy is showing up a little early. Too much TV perhaps? We all know Mom is to blame for that one.

If your answers are mostly C's, you may have issues with authority. Independence is nice, but it's usually best when accompanied by some earning power. Since you have none as of yet, it might be good if you helped around the house a little more.

I'm Afraid of the Night

I have a new post up over on How Do You Do It? on sleep advice, and it got me thinking about sleep and how I'm not getting any lately. Here's why.

I generally start out in my own bed, with my husband, as most married couples do. I go to bed after all three of the boys are already asleep, around 11:30 p.m. Then I read for another 20 minutes or so. Then I fall asleep. And that's when it begins.

Around 2 a.m., one of the boys will scare me awake by staring at me. (Just staring. Like a serial killer. It creeps me out.) He finally climbs in on my side of the bed, where I wrap my arms around him because I don't want him to roll out and die - and I can't put him in the middle of the bed because then he'll kick daddy in the you-know-whats.

A few hours later, the second boy will come in, and may even begin throwing a fit when he sees his coveted spot next to me is already taken by another boy. (No, he can't go sleep by daddy, because of the aforementioned kicking and because daddy is not soft and cuddly like mommy, i.e. I have soft boobs). So I maneuver myself out of my own bed, from under the first sleeping boy, and take the second boy back to his room so that he and I can sleep in his tiny little twin bed.

If I'm lucky, that's where my husband wakes me up when he goes to work, so I can get back into my own bed in time to hear my alarm.

If I'm not lucky, the first boy awakes again at some point to find I'm not there and comes looking for me. I'm very popular. He finds me in bed with the second boy, again wakes me by staring, at which point I get into the first boy's bed with him, leaving the second boy asleep in his own bed.

Have you been counting? That's three beds for me so far. I'm doing more bed-hopping than a sorority girl at a liberal arts college.

Or if I'm lazy (which I would be by 4 a.m., right?), I'll just bring the first boy into bed with me and the second boy. That's one adult and two half-sized human children IN ONE TWIN BED.

I look forward to the day when, like my own 50-something mother, I will be able to survive on four hours of sleep each night. Until then, you can find me napping in my car over lunch.

 

And the Competition Begins

J: Mommy, I love you all the way to Saturn.

N: Well, Mommy, I love you all the way to St. Louis. That's a really long way.

New Blog

I am very excited to announce that I'm now a contributing writer on a new parenting blog called How Do You Do It? It's all about parenting twins (or more!).

And if you are interested, my first post is here: http://howdoyoudoit.wordpress.com/author/craftylissa/.

Please share it with your friends!

You Never Can Tell

I will never let my children eat fruit snacks.

For breakfast.

Okay, they have to at least get dressed by themselves without nagging, and then I'll give them a fruit snack.

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I will never let my children watch TV before they turn two years old.

One year old.

Maybe just Baby Einstein videos. (I have to take a shower at some point!)

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I will never serve my children anything but healthy, balanced meal options, including a vegetable, a carb and a protein at each meal.

A dinner of fruit and carbs is kind of balanced, right?

I think Goldfish do have some protein....

But...

It's true, I'm a girl. And maybe I don't really understand these things. But are butts really that funny? And what about the stuff that comes out of that vicinity? Is that really so funny either?

Two four-year-olds and one thirty-two-year-old think so. All three are male.

I need my own bathroom. Or maybe my own wing.

Once Upon A Time...

...there was a Mommy who missed her two little boys. It was the middle of summer. The boys were home playing blissfully in the summer heat, splashing in pools and running through sprinklers. Mommy was stuck at work, doing a job she hated. So she made a bold move. She snuck out of work a little early (who would notice?) and drove home as fast as she could (within reason) to see her two little boys.

The first wrinkle of the story - the boys were not happy to see her. They wanted Mommy to go away and instead, for their wonderful babysitter Miss J to stay and play with them forever and ever. Mommy was disheartened, but she also knew their emotions were fickle and in a few minutes, they would forget all about Miss J and love Mommy again. Or so she told herself.

To get them to stop crying, Mommy suggested that they go see a movie! The movie was playing at the dollar theater (although it was really the $2 theater), and the boys agreed, and they all drove there as fast as they could (again, within reason), because the movie was going to be starting any minute. Mommy and her boys ran into the theater only to encounter the second wrinkle: a sign that read "CASH ONLY." Mommy never has cash. Never. So back to the minivan, drive to the ATM, get cash, back to the theater, again the running inside, paying the surly teenager, then a stop at the snack bar for stale popcorn and two lemonades that would not fit in the cup holders of the seats and finally they were seated.

Mommy tried not to notice the mildew smell of the theater. (It was an old theater.) And the fact that the seats felt damp. (Why was that? she tried not to think about it.)

Then came the final wrinkle. Boy #1: "Mommy, I have to go potty!" (Luckily, they were the only ones in the entire theater.) While Mommy was trying to get Boy #2 to put his shoes back on, fumbling in the dark, trying not to touch the gross floor, taking WAY too long, Boy #1 speaks up again: "Uh oh Mommy!"

Yes, Boy #1 peed all over the floor (and himself). And Mommy hadn't brought the diaper bag either, as the boys had been potty-trained for months without accidents. After trying to clean up the best one can with paper towels, Mommy graciously let Boy #1 sit on her lap (on top of a layer of paper towels) for the remainder of the movie.

And that was the last time they ever went to the dollar theater.

Cordelia's Revenge

The boys are in a transitional stage. And by transitional stage, I mean that they are literally trying to drive us insane. The mood swings are worse than a 13-year old girl (and I would know). The whining is insurmountable. The fits are uncontrollable. We are nearly at our wit's end.

And then there's the full-body-go-limp, I'm-too-depressed-to-even-react wilt. That's where they melt onto the floor without even a whimper, and you are left with just their apathy as punishment.

My friend S gave me the perfect word to describe their behavior - they are mopey.

I forgot about that word - what an awesomely perfect word to describe what they are doing to us that drives us the MOST CRAZY. I can almost deal with the screaming fits, the broken-hearted-howls-when-the-Wii-is-turned-off. But the moping, good lord, it's the perfect punishment for me.

I was always certain that I would have three daughters. I'm not sure where it came from (possibly King Lear?). When we found out we were having twin boys instead, it came as a shock (of course) and as an immense relief. I was a terror for my parents, especially in the teen years, if you know what I mean (and I know you know what I mean). Boys, by contrast to girls, seem to be a lot less complicated.

So having two four-year-olds who are mopey - it's God's perfect brilliant plan. I'll be missing out on the teen girl terror years and am instead being punished NOW by apathy. Their little limp bodies, defeated on the floor - no Wii, no fruit snacks, no MORE FREAKING GOLDFISH (yes, we are harsh parents) - are my sweet little albatrosses for now.

Can I look forward to clear skies soon? Time will tell.

Christmas

Christmas has come and gone. It was great. Back to work today after a week and half off. So hard to go back. So hard to write complete sentences.

True to form, the boys got sick just in time for the holidays. They spent their time alternating between manic energy and bottomless crashes. I think between the two of them, they ate two goldfish and four pistachio nuts with a glass of orange juice over a three day period.