Motherhood is like Albania. You can�t trust the descriptions in the books, you have to go there.
�Marni Jackson

This statement is as close to perfect a way to describe the toddler years with twins as I�ve found. I�m hard-pressed to identify just one word that accurately illustrates this time period. Truth be told, there are many ways to describe it: exhausting, humbling, frustrating, miraculous, and terrifying, for starters. I�ve slowly become convinced that the experts who claim that more occurs developmentally between the ages of one and four than during any other time of life are right. Ever since the moment when I officially accepted this theory, I�ve begun each day enjoying those last few cozy moments in bed staring at the ceiling and reminding myself that I�m responsible for nurturing and guiding said development. I won�t lie to you; it�s a frightening admission given that many days I believe I might be more successful completing a triple Lutz on ice or performing a quadruple bypass on a patient lying on a moving gurney than getting a child even an inch closer to understanding why spitting a mouthful of food onto a window is not acceptable. Somewhat selfishly perhaps, I set goals for myself during this time period in addition to those I set for my children. After all, I wanted to exit this era with as few gray hairs and premature wrinkles as possible. The solutions to the former are too messy and those to the latter are still just too expensive (and involve needles).