When my brother and I grew up we had ticks.

I don't mean we had them as pets or anything, I mean we lived in "tick territory". Occasionally in the summer, my mom would have to slather one of these parasitic critters with Vaseline and yank the little vampire from our heads with tweezers.

Once, our dog had an undetected tick aboard who had enjoyed such a fine blood meal that it swelled to the size of a marble, its' belly nearly translucent from the bulging from within. That is how I felt being pregnant with my twins. Swollen. Like a lucky tick.

I delivered my babies at 37 weeks and 3 days gestation and I felt every second...no, milli-second, of it. I had to sit all the way up in bed at night in order to simply roll over. I couldn't pass a restroom without gracing it with my massive presence. Drinking water gave me heartburn.

There was no detectable delineation between my ankles and my calves. The only time I have ever been that miserable was when I was pregnant the first time around. And at the Duran Duran concert I was dragged to a couple years ago.

But what a difference a year makes, eh? Our little fellas will turn ONE in a couple weeks. They are no longer the six pound newborns we schlepped home from the hospital.

They are crawling. (At times, faster than I can walk. A situation most unpleasant for the cat who, I believe, had assumed they were stationary creatures.) They are trying to stand.

(This, even though I've told them that standing is almost as over-rated as walking. "Blech! Who wants to do that?! That doesn't even look safe." said the Mother, crossing her fingers behind her.)

They are eating "big people food", with help. (Without help they simply smash the food with their hands and smear it on each other's extremeties, leading to a new nickname for the dog, "Baby Licker".)

And they are trying to talk. Grant's first "word" a couple weeks ago was 'GOG-gee' for the dog. (The dog, unlike the cat, loves the babies, as often times they sweep small waterfalls of Cheerios from the table on top of her. The cat prefers to not be pelted with cereal, but she has never been much fun.)

In the midst of this last year, I never thought it would end. And now, looking back, it seems to have gone so quickly. My world has changed forever.

I am so busy most days that if breathing were not autonomic, I would be dead. But I don't suppose I would trade this new, ever-changing, hectic life for what I had before.

Nope. The twins are here to stay.

Happy Birthday, little ones!