I'm Still Here

Image from: http://uobmarketing.blogspot.com/2013/10/its-been-while.html

Hello out there world! It has been a while since I posted. That happens sometimes, though. Life just gets all busy and I get pulled in a million different directions. My family and I have also been going through some "stuff", for lack of a better word. It pains me that I can not share it with you. That is the fine line I choose to walk as a mom blogger, though. Some bloggers share everything. I choose to keep certain things close and sacred for the sake of my family and respect for their privacy. So, all I can say on that topic for now is that I am struggling mentally and emotionally...but will be OK...eventually.

Any-who...what's new around here? Great question.

Summer is fast coming to an end and school days are right around the corner. I will have a senior, a sophomore, a kindergartner and two three year olds this time around. Unreal. It blows my mind because I still don't feel old enough to have two kids in high school...but I do. We are starting to talk college plans with my oldest while my daughter begs every day to know how many more days until her first day of school ever. Best of both worlds.

I am looking forward to this new school year very much. Before the twins were born I was that mom that volunteered for anything and everything at school for my oldest boys. Even when my daughter DJ came along, I still managed to take on some big tasks for the school. Once the twins were born I had to step back and focus on the home front. Now that they are almost three, I can finally start volunteering again. Room mom, class parties, mystery readers, book fairs and more. It will be nice to get that piece of my life back that I have missed so much. I love being involved and sharing that passion with the children, getting them excited and involved in their school. And with the twins on DJ's proverbial school heels, we have MANY more years of this ahead of us. Yay!

The twins are almost three and have been coined by my second oldest son to be the "Deuce of Hazards". Love it...the name, not the hazards, lol. These two crazy toddler boys get into more mischief and situations than my previous three children do/did combined. Two brains are truly better than one and they prove this to me almost daily. Just for a short example, we have been in our new house about fourteen months now and my twins are on their third doorknob for their bedroom already. What!? Yeah...just a tiny glimpse into my world where the twins are concerned. You never know what you are going to find when you go into their room. Just the other afternoon I went in to get them up after their nap and found them both just chilln' naked in Z's bed, not a care in the world. Happy and free. When I asked them where their diapers went, Z told me they were gone. Well, they weren't "gone" but were shoved into a crack in their race car beds. At least they didn't poop on the floor. Ha! Someday I will get around to telling you all more about their shenanigans. Promise.

My new business is starting out pretty slow, which is totally fine and to be expected. I am in no hurry since my twins won't even be headed to school for another three years. Also, with some of that family "stuff" I mentioned earlier, I have decided to take a couple of weeks off of trying to get it up and running so that I can stay focused on us and not cause myself to have another year like 2014. 2014 and I were not great friends and I will leave it at that. I truly believe that being a personal chef is the right choice of career for me and my family but I will continue to get it going at my own pace, on my own terms. That's what makes it so great, being my own boss. You can get the whole scoop on my business website at www.flavorfare.com!

My GoFundMe charity just celebrated it's first birthday! If you haven't heard about my mission yet, please check it out. Basically, once a month my volunteers and I cook a weeks worth of meals for a local family in need who are struggling with an ill child/family member. With the donations we receive we are able to purchase the groceries needed to accomplish this task. I would love your support or even just a share to spread the word about Food With Love! Thank you.

There are so many things on my plate that I want to share with you but I will save it for a later date. Once the kids get back into the whole school routine and the "stuff" is finally behind me, I look forward to doing so. I have room makeovers coming up, some DIY home decor projects, a few parties to host and so much more. So, please, stay tuned and check back. I appreciate your years of support and am excited for many many more.

 If you would like to keep up with my recipes and kitchen product reviews, you can find those on my sub-blog Ginny Says So.

And I haven't had anyone take me up on this yet but I would LOVE to give it a go! I have an advice blog called Ask Ginny. Check it out and ask me questions. Anything at all. Cooking, parenting, marriage, career and much more. I am at the ready! Hit me with your best shot.

Until next time, have a wonderful week!

There's No Such Thing

Image from: http://www.christelow.com/five-little-monkeys-jumping-on-the-bed-by-eileen-christelow.html

...As a perfect day. At least not when you have five kids. Maybe if you just have one kid...maybe. I wouldn't know though so for now I will just assume...and whine a bit.

Oh, but I try. Some days I feel it stronger than others. Of course I want to be a great mom every day. I want my kids to be happy and feel loved and special all of the time. It's a mom thing, I'm sure. But this morning, standing in the kitchen, feeding the three littles their breakfast, staring out the sliding patio door at the sunny bright and glorious morning it was turning out to be I thought to myself, "Let's get out and do something fun today!" The teens are off of school. My preschooler is off for the day, too. We could all go, the six of us...to...the Como Zoo!! Yes!

So, I proceeded to pack a picnic lunch for my brood (because seriously, feeding six people at the zoo is sooooo expensive!). I also packed the diaper bag as quietly as I could so that the toddlers woulsn't see me. If they catch me they will freak out, start yelling "Bye, Bye!" repeatedly and throw their shoes and jackets at my feet constantly, for however long it takes to really be time to go "Bye Bye." Not an un-stressful event.

By this time it is about 9:45 A.M. and I decided that it was an okay time to ask the teens to get up even though it was a no school day and I really try not to wake them up unless I have to. Family time is a good enough reason in my book sometimes. So, teen number one got up no problem. Teen number two rolled around with an arm over his eyes, blocking out the hideously beautiful rays of sun shining so annoyingly through his bedroom window and mumbled in a pathetic little voice over and over, "Why?" I smirked, as he couldn't see me, and said, "Because I love you. I love you so much that I want to take you on a picnic so...get up." He rolled around some more and as I was leaving his room I heard him mumble something along the lines of, "Ugh, don't love me that much." Ha! I retort, "Oh, but I do, My Love. I do. Time to get up!"

Five kids awake, fed and nearly ready. What?! Yup. By 10:30 A.M. we were all in the car and on the way. I was admittedly on edge for the drive whole because my twin toddlers are car pukers. The worst. Driving anywhere that is a half hour or more away from our house is always a risky situation. Sigh. So, I watched them like a hawk all the way there, ready to pull over and catch some vomit at a moments notice. Luckily, we made it to the zoo without incident. Whew!

I had also decided to be brave and bring no stroller. I repeat...No Stroller! The twins are two and a half years old. I wanted them to use up lots of their pent-up-being-stuck-in-the-house-all-winter-long energy while also learning to listen and follow me in public. This could have gone horribly wrong but...it didn't. They were total champs. Or as they prefer that I call them..."Big Guys."

The zoo was not busy at all. We got great parking. The kids got up close with any animal they wished. It was amazing. I knew going into this venture that it could have been the complete opposite. A day off of school and it was almost 50° outside for maybe the first time all winter long. As a Minnesotan, I was shocked but in a good way. It was probably one of the best trips to the zoo with my kids that I have ever had. Truly.

We even made it all the way back home afterwards with no vomiting, although I had taken off their jackets and kept the windows open a bit trying to keep them at the perfect temperature. Looking back on what I have written so far really magnefys to me that I have so many things to think about all of the damn time. Like one of those plate twirlers of the old variety shows. It can feel like that sometimes. I also know that I am only remembering some of the day's details. Ah well. I am sure most people quit reading this ridiculous account many paragraphs ago.

Image from: http://outoftheash.com/2014/07/

We got home at around 3:00 P.M. and everyone was still pretty happy. One teen ran off to play basketball with a friend and the other one down to his XBox. The three littles played nice in the toy room until 4:00 and I decided the twins needed a little quiet time in their room while I started dinner. They were only mad about that for a couple minutes. No biggie.

I found a batch of chili that I had frozen a while back and chose that for dinner. Nice and easy after a long day out with all of the kiddos. Threw in a couple trays of fries, why not? Chili Cheese Fries it was with hardly any cooking effort.

I go to check on the twins at 5:00 P.M. and Z had fallen asleep but not E so I brought them both back down to the toy room. I didn't want Z to sleep too long and be up all night but, he actually stayed asleep even after I brought him down so I just let him be. He slept through dinner. My first sign that the night was possibly taking a turn. But at that point I think maybe I can still keep it up. I was exhausted but wanted them to be happy still so I decided that we should go to the YMCA since Z slept so late. It is their favorite place to go, after all. That way Z could use up his energy so he would still go to bed at a normal time, right?

Halfway to the YMCA and Z started crying that he was hungry, "Hun-gy Mommy. Hun-gy!" The one time I do not pack granola bars in the diaper bag for our trip to the gym. Total bummer. We got all the way into the gym and up to the childcare counter and he has a total meltdown. Lucky for us there is a Subway in the building so I checked in DJ and E and proceeded to sneak back out with Z so that E wouldn't see us. Not an easy task as they are pretty attached to each other, you know, twins and all. I succeded and bought him a ham sandwich kids meal. We sat down, just the two of us, while he ate the whole thing. It was actually a very sweet little unplanned dinner date. He was so cute and very happy.

When he was all finished eating he got excited to go to the childcare room and play. He practically ran all the way there through the hallways. We got in and he started to have another meltdown out of nowhere because he was suddenly very thirsty for water, mind you he drank all of his milk just minutes ago. He couldn't stop crying. E saw us and came over just as I was getting Z my water bottle and then he started to have a meltdown from the other side of the wall because he wanted water now too. It didn't end. They just kept crying and we all had to leave. Z kept saying, "Go bye bye." No workout for Mommy. I had packed up and drove all the way to the gym with three kids in tow for nothing. At least it felt that way. We got to the car and Z started crying that he wants to go to the YMCA. (Insert face palm here) He continued crying all the way home.

As I drove home with the sound of my youngest son crying I though to myself, thank goodness there is a box of wine at home. Then, I immediately remembered that I had to pick up one of my teens from baseball practice at 9:30 P.M. and that there would be no wine for me anytime soon. Ugh! Lol. So, I decided to sit here and write this stupid story and torture you, my readers, instead. So sorry.

Anyway, my point...let's pretend there really is one. Shall we?

It doesn't matter how hard I try or how good my intentions are going into a day like today. With five children, five personalities, five wills, fifty fingers, twenty limbs, five mouths and so very much more, I can not and will not ever make them all happy at the same time. We won't ever have one whole perfect day from start to finish. There is always going to be "something." Someone is going to cry. Someone is going to fall down. Someone is going to hit someone else. Someone is going to have an accident. Someone is not going to like the food. Someone is going to spill. Someone is going to say something mean. Someone is going to puke. But you know what? I am going to keep on trying. I am going to keep on taking them places and trying to give them that perfect day. I am going to pack picnics and wake them up early when the mood strikes me. I am going to keep trying even when I am exhausted. Even when I know how it's all going to end.

Because I am a Mom and that's what we do.

Now, I will go pick up my kid so I can come home and have that glass of wine.

How to Feel Like a Kid Again: A Letter From my Twin Toddlers

Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Bye. Hi. I am Z and this here is my twin brother, E. Hi. We noticed Mommy's tushy has been dragging a bit lately; she is on the higher side of thirty after all. Seeing as we are wise beyond our year and some months, we thought we would take a moment to give you all some tips and tricks to help unleash your inner child and feel youthful again. Who doesn't want that, right?

1. If you see something that you want just take it. It needs to be broken immediately. If you can't take it apart within the first minute or so, it is probably best to bang it on something really hard, repeatedly. If that doesn't work, we suggest throwing it at someone who isn't looking at you or expecting it at all. That is the best.

1. When you sit down for a meal that someone else has cooked for you, make a big deal about it. Put a bite in your mouth using your whole fist or even both fists. This is completely acceptable in public, too. Don't worry. It is a compliment to the chef, for sure. If the food happens to be extra saucy or cheesy, they want you to put some in your hair. Everybody who's anybody knows that is what the extra sauce is for. And if you do it just right you will get a bubble bath right afterwards, maybe even with fun colored water and extra toys.

1. If you do not like the food you tasted, just let it fall right out of your mouth, right onto your shirt or lap. You could also scoop it out with your fingers and fling it as far from yourself as possible. If your Mommy is nice, she might hold out her hand and let you spit it into her palm. If she does this, it is best to add a little extra drool to really make it count.

1. Look someone in the eye when you poop. The redder your face gets, the better. You never truly know how someone feels about you until they have watched you poop. This is key.

5. If someone else is getting attention, the only way to get it back on you is to hit them in the back of the head with your toy xylophone. You can pick one up at most toy stores. This will be the most effective way to have all eyes on you. It is super fun.

1. When you are finished with something like a toy or a book or maybe the milk in your sippy cup, drop it on the floor wherever you may be. Someone else is sure to pick it up for you. No need to take all of those extra steps and tire yourself out. If there is any milk left in the bottom of your cup, you will want to shake the cup a lot until some drips onto the carpet...you know, for your homeys.

1. No one wants to be alone, ever. So, follow your favorite people around most of the time. Especially when they are in the bathroom. This will give them the chance to return the favor and look you in the eye when they poop, too.

1. If you are a prankster, like us, you have got to try this one. If you feel a little sick in your tummy, do not tell anyone. There is a chance you will have to go somewhere soon so you should definitely wait until you are all buckled into your car seat and have been driving for a while. If you wait for just the right moment to barf, Mommy makes the craziest face you will ever see and starts driving all wonky. It is awesome. Totally worth it, trust us.

1. When you are in public, like a store or something, and you see something out of your reach that you want to hold, freak out with everything you've got. Yell, flail, whine, drool, the whole shebang. If you have the space, you could even lay down on the floor and kick while you scream. Even if you don't get what you want, or even remember what it was, it will have been so worth it. It is energizing.

1. Be naked. Whenever and wherever possible. Running naked is the bee's knees.

So there it is. By trying out a few of these tips in your boring adult day to day lives, you are sure to feel more youthful or at least be seen as so. Remember that "no" means "yes" and "yes" means "yes" but the only word you really need to know how to say is "no." YOYO! (You're only young once!)

My Twins & Their First Year: A Celebration

Yesterday, my beautiful fraternal twin sons celebrated their first birthday. The whole day was almost surreal. A whole year has passed by since I felt the first real twinges of labor pains warning me that my babies were almost ready to officially join our family. A whole year has passed by since I gave birth to them in turn and experienced one of the scariest days of my life. (Click here to read previous post for details) A whole year has passed by since my life became so much harder and yet, so much better at the same time. The babies have no idea that it was their birthday yesterday and probably have no idea that the party was all for them. They won't remember it, no matter how hard I tried to make it a special one. They will see the pictures one day and think that it was nice. And that is how first birthdays are. Truthfully, I feel that first birthday celebrations are more for the parents and the families. It is a wonderful reason to celebrate. So, yesterday may have been more for me than for them. Looking back on the last year...I'd say I deserved a party. I will take a moment now to happy dance around my table and say, "Yeah baby! I f-ing did it!" For one whole year!

I am tired, exhausted and worn out. I am stiff, sore and maybe a little malnourished. I have been on an emotional roller coaster of depression, sadness and at times, self loathing. I drink a bit and smoke a bit, or as I call these vices to myself, I use my "mommy crutches". (Stupid, I know. Ah well, gets me through the days every once in a while.) But, believe it or not, I am so very happy and content all at the same time. I am in love. My heart overflows with it and the feeling can take my breath away. I have so much to be proud of and happy about and grateful for. I would not change a single moment of the last year. It is all part of the package that is this crazy life. It is all part of the process of being me, finding me and molding me. I'll take it. Every last second.

But, back to the party. I love to throw a party. This was, of course, my first time getting to throw a party for twins. I loved it. I thought a long time about the theme of the party. I asked around and the most popular theme that came up was Dr. Seuss' Thing One and Thing Two. I'd seen it done so many times before and wanted something a little more unique. I decided on a cartoon that my babies love called Bananas in Pyjamas, an Australian based cartoon we found on Netflix a while back. It was perfect because it is about two bananas named B1 and B2 and the twins just happen to watch it all the time.

Image from: http://malloftheemirates.com/press-release/mall-of-the-emirates-debuts-%E2%80%98bananas-in-pyjamas%E2%80%99-plus-%E2%80%98xtreme-festival%E2%80%99-shows-roll-on-dss-fun.aspx

I decided to make the twins outfits to wear for their special day so that they would look a little like these two cute bananas.

So cute. They wouldn't leave the hats on for very long but they did love to play with them. I crocheted them using a pattern that I found on Pinterest. I love to crochet and this ended up being quite helpful since I couldn't find bright yellow hats to purchase anywhere. Here is the pattern: Crochet Toddler Hat with Brim. Super easy. I did each one in a night while watching a movie.

We had the party at my In-Laws' house because I was worried that it would be too warm if we had everyone over in my house. We kept the food simple: Meat and cheese tray with buns, veggies and dip, fruit, pasta salad, etc. I found out that our local grocery store chain, Cub Foods, gives a free sheet cake for first birthdays with birth certificate proof. I thought about that but decided, because I know myself so well, that baking their cake would make me much happier. Baking and cooking is something I love to do. I baked for my first three children and didn't want to stop tradition now. I found a recipe for banana cake online. I turned it into cupcakes and added homemade cream cheese frosting. They turned out so good. I would definitely use this recipe again. Here is the recipe if you would like to try it: Banana Cake. For the frosting I used two eight ounce blocks of cream cheese, one stick of butter and about three cups or so of powdered sugar. I mixed it all together until smooth and creamy. It made about one half gallon in a zip lock bag. Delicious.

I am a big fan of Sherbet Punch so that is what I made for a fun beverage. You can make many different flavors and combinations. I bought pineapple sherbet, cream soda, pineapple soda and Apple Banana Pineapple Juice. In a very large punch bowl, place the half gallon of sherbet as one big lump in the center. I poured one liter of cream soda, two liters of pineapple soda and one quart of juice over the sherbet. It will be cold, foamy and tasty. As people scoop the punch, it is nice to scoop up a chunk of sherbet into the cup, almost like a root beer float. Yum! Get creative with the sherbet and soda flavor combinations. I usually pick something that will end up being a color that matches my party theme.

I had also seen a recipe on Facebook a while back and knew right away that I wanted to make them for this party. Banana slices sandwiched with peanut butter and then covered in chocolate. What!? Yes, please. I made them and they were scrumptious!

For party invitations I use a great website called Evite.com. They have hundreds of themes and occasions to choose from. It is very easy to use and create fun invitations that are emailed directly to your guest list. You can send messages to guests when you need to and can easily keep track of RSVP's. I very rarely mail out invitations anymore now that I found this resource. It is just so convenient. Here are a couple screenshots to give you an idea:

It was a wonderful day. A whole lot of work but a whole lot of fun, too. I will also take a moment here to publicly thank my amazing Mother-in-Law, Uli, for opening up her home and helping make the twins' first birthday a memorable one. Thank you, Uli. You are great!

Here are a few pictures, just because (Some are a little blurry, so much commotion, they barely stopped moving all day long.):

So, there it is. Party's over. On to the next year. Sigh. I will close this post with a few photo highlights from the first year of The L Twins. Love to you and yours.

Laughter & Tears

I'm going to give you a little of both. A typical day in my world contains the two. I'm not just talking about myself. There are, of course, the kiddos. Teenie weenie emotional roller coasters, in constant motion, keeping me on my toes. Going out on errands can be a trip, pun intended. When I have to take some or all of them out...I have to have a plan...and a s#!t load of patience.

The Plan: 

It takes me about an hour to get everyone ready to go somewhere. Therefore, whatever I am going to go and do had better be worth it. I have to really need something, want something, have to get out of the house, have specific people I want to see or whatever my reason may be. It is probably not going to be "just because." Not until the twins are a little older, at least.

Before I can go anywhere, I have to pack the diaper bag: diapers, wipes, pull ups, changes of clothes (at least one for each baby, depending on how long we will be out and maybe one for DJ too), bottles, formula, baby snacks, DJ's snack, a couple toys, blankets (depending on the season and weather), sippy cup, possibly child sized cutlery, Desitin, wallet, phone, sunglasses, keys, sometimes coupons/vouchers...and always Neno Bear (DJ's woobie). In the winter time...let's not forget hats, mittens, boots, jackets and snow pants for all!

Then I make sure all three little ones have clean butts and clean clothes on. I check on the dog and turn off all the lights. I may have to cover the giant stroller and bungee it on to the back of my Yukon. I bring the diaper bag and anything else we are taking along and load it into the truck. If I am home alone with the three little kids I corral one baby in the living room, bouncy chair, swing or somewhere else safe and carry the other baby to the car and then run back into the house as quickly as possible to grab the second baby and DJ. If my husband and/or my two teenagers are coming with, the getting into the car logistics are a little easier, but really it is just more people and more stuff. Away we go.

I also make sure to get as much into a trip as I can. The less total trips out of the house, the easier it is on me. A perfect example was three months ago. The babies were due for their six month check ups. I decided to make all of our family appointments for one day. Some might think this is crazy, but in my opinion it was so much better. We started out the day with five dentist appointments at eight o'clock in the morning. I had my husband go first so he could get to work as soon as possible...again, crazy, but the hard truth is we are a family of seven on one income. Daddy's gotta work. After the dentist, around ten o'clock, we went over to the pediatricians where the babies had well baby checks and my two older boys each had an appointment for something specific to each of them. We went out for lunch together after those appointments and then we had a little bit of time to kill so we ran into Walmart and the grocery store for a few things we needed. After all of that we went to the eye doctor where me and the two older boys had appointments at around three thirty or so. I believe we left there at five-ish. It ended up being a long day but I found it easier than doing it all in three or four different days. I have also been blessed with pretty well behaved children. Thank goodness. Pretty sure I ordered pizza that night, though. Who wants to cook after all that noise?

The Patience:

These pictures are from the babies nine month check ups, but it gives you a glimpse into what it can be like...

I gave up trying to get them to not tear up the paper roll within a few seconds. Ah well. As long as I kept them from rolling off the doctor's table, I was good. They can only wait patiently for so long. And most of you have been in a doctor's office...you can't see in these pictures, but my other three children are in the room, too. Think about it.

The Laughter:

I found a perfect example of the ridiculousness that can ensue while bringing multiple children out and into the world to go somewhere. This image is from www.ninjamomblog.com. I recently found her blog and I think she is great.

Image from: http://www.ninjamomblog.com/p/other-writing-and-pr-info.html#.UfLtCI1r2a9

Too true! I can't even begin to tell you. I laughed so hard when I saw this the first time. Thank you, NinjaMom!

I have also come up with a new way to decide who gets my grocery shopping business, if I have to bring all three little kids with me, now that the babies grew out of their car seats with carrying handles. I go to my favorite grocery store first, Cub Foods, and drive around their parking lot, checking in all the cart corrals until I find one of those shopping carts with the kid car on the front. Those carts have TWO baby seats with buckles in addition to the fun car. If they do not have one of those kinds of carts on the lot, I leave and drive to the next grocery store and drive around their lot. This is the only way to ensure maximum success and safety getting them all from my car and into the store. It hasn't happened yet, but if neither store had a cart like that available, I would either call it quits and go home, or if I really needed to, I could drive to yet another grocery store.

The Tears:

This is where it gets a little heavy. I am adding a link to a video I saw last night that someone had shared on Facebook. I sat in silence, with my headphones on, and watched it while tears trickled down my cheeks. I almost turned it off when I realized exactly where it was going but I decided to force myself to sit through it anyway. It is fake. It is portrayed by actors. It is not dramatized. In real life it happens too often and sometimes it is good to have a reminder. Watch at your own risk.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/07/19/kids-left-in-cars-psa_n_3623597.html?ncid=edlinkusaolp00000009

Some days can be hard or stressful. There have been times when I am driving home from somewhere and think to myself. "Oh crap, we are out of milk." or that I really wished I had something or another. But if I am not willing to take every single child out of the car and in with me to a store or anywhere else, I am NOT going to go! Absolutely nothing in the whole wide world is worth the risk of leaving a child in a car. I don't care about the weather or the location or the circumstances. It can be such a pain in the ass to haul them all around but I just have to deal with that. I will never do it. And I probably won't ever watch this video again. My heart can't handle it.

The End:

Parenting is joy and sacrifice. Pleasure and pain. I take one day a step at a time. It's the best I can do.

9 Months: A Perfect Storm

Or rather, perfectly stormy. My twin boys are officially 9 months old. I was pregnant with them for almost the whole 9 month gestation. To be exact, 36 1/2 weeks, or better yet, just over 8 1/2 cycles of the big and beautiful moon. An infinite number of things can happen in such an insignificant length of time on this earth. Lives can be completely rearranged, tossed and scattered just like a million sea shells upon the sand. New life can grow and swell in unison inside another living being. Relationships can wane or flourish; they may even experience a combination of the two. Sleep and to do lists can be swept to the side in a tide of new responsibilities and flowing tears of joy and sadness, creeping ever deeper, can consume an unsuspecting soul into their depths. Or, one can learn to swim, even if it is only treading water at times. All that matters is that you can keep your head above water, at least until your tippy toes can touch the bottom or your mind, body and soul become stronger.

The last 9 months have not been a perfect walk along the beach. My husband and I feel like we have accomplished something great together, regardless. We made it through a very difficult time and came out stronger, closer and even more sure of the strength we have as a unit. We made it through. We held each others hands and didn't allow the storm to take us down.

How can I measure the last 9 months? Approximately 255 days, 6,120 hours, 367,200 minutes,  22,032,000 seconds, give or take. I have probably prepared and fed the babies 3,500 bottles, well over 200 cans of formula. I have changed around 5,600 diapers and pull ups and used up 16,500 wipes. I have fixed nearly 300 bumps, bruises and scrapes. I have possibly slept, on average, 5 hours a night, at best. This equals around 1,275 hours, if I am bring generous. I have attended maybe 30 doctor, dentist, physical therapy and optical appointments. I have cleaned the whole house...once? But, have done 250 loads of laundry, 300 piles of dishes and an unlimited number of other household tasks. I have paid over 100 monthly bills. I slept on the couch for at least 3 or 4 months because our house is too small, the babies do not have their own room and my dear hubby has to get up and go to work early in the mornings. I have cried a dozen times...or so. I have raised my voice more times than I care to admit.

On a lighter note...I have given a bazillion kisses and a lifetimes worth of hugs. I have laughed 4,000 times, at least, and smiled thousands more. I have played with my children everyday. I have shown them some new things. I have read hundreds of books and danced around the living room singing along with the songs loudly and proudly, often. I've told many silly jokes and stupid puns. I have tickled and pillow fought with gusto, on occasion. I've saved them from at least 50 spiders. I've given countless bubble baths for hours and hours until their 10 fingers and 10 toes each shriveled up into raisins. I've blown a trillion bubbles and side walk chalked enough to draw a line around the world. I have loved, with my entire being, all day, every day.

In 9 months I have discovered even more about myself. I am very aware that I am as complex as there are drops of water in the ocean. Each day is an adventure, some days better than others. My already wonderful marriage has flourished. Together we are as strong as the tides. The waves crashing against the rocks, slowly carving away, constantly changing the surface, are no match for our love and our strength together. After all of this, I know that we can accomplish anything. 18 months ago we started slowly treading water. We have since, learned to swim.

'Seasons of Love'

By: Jonathan Larson

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes,

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Moments so dear.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes

How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights

In cups of coffee

In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.

In five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes

How do you measure

A year in the life?

How about love?

How about love?

How about love? Measure in love

Seasons of love. Seasons of love

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes!

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Journeys to plan.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes

How do you measure the life

Of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned,

Or in times that he cried.

In bridges he burned,

Or the way that she died.

It's time now to sing out,

Tho' the story never ends

Let's celebrate

Remember a year in the life of friends

Remember the love!

Remember the love!

Seasons of love!

Oh you got to got to 

Remember the love! 

You know that love is a gift from up above 

Share love, give love spread love 

Measure measure your life in love.

I Pushed & They Shoved (A Sequel)

* Content Warning * This post contains descriptions of child birth. Read at your own risk.

Rewind to August 18th, 2012. It was so hot out, record making hot. I was around thirty weeks pregnant and, unknown to me at the time, only six weeks away from giving birth to my twin bouncing baby boys; the little life changing, heart breaking, dream makers. I was mentally preparing for the birth experience and contemplating the possibility of natural childbirth, if the little bundles of joy cooperated. I was feeling very confident and strong. I made up my mind that day to have a conversation with my doctor and respectfully decline his recommended scheduled c-section. I would not evict the little buggers, no matter my level of discomfort. I knew they needed to grow inside of me however long their tiny bodies wished. I wanted to show up at the hospital in labor with all of my options open but also knew that I would have to be ready for surprises. Surprises, there were.

Me, pregnant with twins, at 31 weeks...Now imagine me at 36 weeks!

Did I mention I was huge? The last six weeks of my twin pregnancy were a bit rough. I was not bathing while home alone anymore, for fear of falling or being unable to lift myself out of the tub. It became very hard to wash myself properly and I had to take extra care getting under my belly and all the other hard to reach places and new creases so that I would not stink; remember it was the hottest summer in who knows how long. I could not lift my daughter in and out of the bath tub anymore. I would have to ask my husband or one of the boys to come in and lift her out when I was done. My maternity clothes barely fit me by then and I asked permission to wear slippers to work for the remainder of my employment due to severe ankle, feet and toe swelling. They allowed it. I took all stairs one at a time while holding on to the rails as tightly as possible, peeking past my giant belly with each step to check my aim. I was only sleeping for an hour or so at a time. I could only sleep on my sides and I would wake up to awful sharp pains in whichever hip I was laying on and would have to flip myself over to the other hip, back and forth, all night long. If you would ever like to experience this, strap a fifty pound weight tightly to your abdomen and then flip yourself over to the opposite hip every hour during your sleep. Then, strategically replace all of your pillows: one between your legs, one behind your back to prevent rolling and wedge one under the side of your belly so the skin does not stretch and hurt whilst trying to fall back asleep. Repeat this nightly for a few months. Always be mindful of your bed partner and try not to wake them up. Then get up and go to work in the morning. Fun!

I was very nervous of preterm labor. I had a couple scares that sent me to the hospital in the middle of the night there towards the end. I am not ashamed of this. I would rather be sent home knowing that everything was fine instead of sitting around at home guessing and possibly even harming the babies. If you get a crack in the amniotic sac and leak fluid, you are at risk of infection. This can harm the babies if bacteria becomes introduced into their environment. The babies were most likely putting too much pressure on my bladder and causing me to slowly and involuntarily wet myself. When you can't tell the difference, you have to go in and find out. I wasn't sleeping anyway, right? Field trip!

This brings us to September 27th, 2012. It was a Thursday morning. I had a super busy day scheduled at work and my last day was to be Friday. When I left for my 36 week appointment, I spoke to my boss because I was feeling a little ill and very uncomfortable. We agreed that I should take the rest of the day off in order to get some rest after my appointment; she would cover my work and I would be back the next morning for my last day. I was grateful. My health was great and the babies were doing wonderfully. I was never asked by my doctor to reduce my work hours. This was both a good thing and a bad thing. I did not want to be put on bed rest or reduced hours because we needed the money. I could have personally reduced my hours at any time I felt I should but unless it was recommended and signed off by my doctor, short term disability would not pick up the slack in any missed pay. So, I worked as much as I could and stepped out early here and there to get a nap or put my gigantic feet up. My boss was wonderful like that, so understanding.

My appointment went well. My Mom came along with me for extra support towards the end. My husband had an open invitation to all of my appointments, but we decided together that it was better for him to work, make money and save any paid time off for when the babies came and I needed him more. It is always good to have that second set of ears when things are overwhelming, though. My Mom is cool like that. I decided to ask the doctor to sweep my membrane that day. http://www.womenshealth.ie/pregnancy/sweeping-the-membranes/ I had it done when I was pregnant with my daughter and researched the pros and cons in preparation for this appointment. Sometimes it works to bring on labor and sometimes it does not. I felt that if the babies and my body were ready, it would bring on labor but also knew that it very well could not work and no harm would be done to any of us. This is the only procedure I would allow them to do. The week leading up to this appointment had been so physically trying, I cried so much that week. My body was near it's limit of what it could take. The sweeping worked.

By dinner time that evening, real contractions began. We sent our daughter to sleep over at her Oma's house (German for Grandma) in preparation for a possible late night trip to the hospital. It was the right decision. At around 3:00 in the morning of September 28th, I woke up my husband and told him it was time to go in. I snuck up to my older sons' room and gave them the option to come along. They decided to keep sleeping and I told them to stay home from school, we would keep them posted and someone would come pick them up and bring them to the hospital when it was time to meet their new baby brothers. One call to my Mom and we were on our way. I got hooked up, ice chipped and as comfortable as possible. Then the waiting began.

I decided, at the advice of the hospital staff, to accept an epidural. Baby A was head down and ready to go but Baby B was still lying transverse (horizontal) up under my ribs. I would have to deliver in the operating room in case of an emergency c-section. Were I to decline the epidural and a c-section was needed, there would be a significant amount of pain involved and having it already in place was the wisest choice. It ended up being a VERY good choice.

The urge to push came on quick and strong. The staff moved fast and got me to the operating room swiftly, husband and Mom in tow. The operating room was white, bright and uninviting. I can't even begin to tell you how many people were in that room. They were everywhere, busy as bees, organized chaos. I could barely move from pain and pure size. Do this, do that, they all kept saying. Getting up on the operating table was most difficult, I felt like a beached whale. I was in so much pain. Commotion all around me. Close my eyes and try to focus on breathing. Poked, prodded, pushed and pulled. Please let this go fast. Please let them be OK. Please let me live to see them. My mind was in a tail spin. Focus damn it!

I had two doctors on me; one to catch and one to run the ultrasound. I pushed...and pushed...and pushed...Baby A was here! That wasn't so bad, my Eddie Love. But don't get distracted, I still had one more to go. The next 7 minutes were absolute hell. I am suddenly being attacked. Hands all over me, frantic, repeatedly pushing on my belly with all of their might to try and get Baby B down. It's not working. It hurts. I feel a bit violated. I scan the room: Eddie is doing OK, I can barely see him through his circle of nurses but I can hear him crying. Mom and Allen are still there, trying their best to stay out of the way of the crowd. They seem OK. I did not realize, at the time, that they were wearing their poker faces, just for me. The doctor's are scared and loud. The catcher is about to throw in the towel and cut me wide open. The other doctor is not about to give up and pushes her aside. Suddenly, I can barely stand it. He is determined and I am in excruciating pain, even through the epidural. I squeeze my eyes shut as tight as I can. I don't want to see this. I grab both sides of the table and hold on like I have never held on to anything before. My hands cramp up and I squeeze even harder, as though a tornado is trying to rip a child from my death grip. If I felt violated a few minutes prior, it was nothing compared to this. The doctor was elbow deep inside of me, reaching for my baby, trying to save him. It felt like forever...and ever...oh my God, I wanted them out!

I must tell you, while I am sitting here writing and remembering, my body has been covered in goosebumps and chills, tears have welled up in my eyes. I was so scared and the feelings still crush me. I'll continue.

The doctor finally has a grip on Baby B's little foot and the pulling resumes ten fold. He does not slide out easily, he is breech and gets wedged, they are rushing to get him free. When he comes out into the bright and sterile world, he is not well. He is not breathing. His feet are black and blue as if he has been in a fight. His arm might even be broken. He has to be resuscitated. I do not get to see him for hours and hours. I had no idea this was going on. I had to deliver another placenta and get cleaned up and stitched. I could barely bring myself to keep my eyes open. I had just been severely assaulted and could barely stay awake, but they made me. It was almost over.

Baby B made it. He had to stay in the special nursery for at least 4 hours to be monitored due to very low blood sugar levels, but he pulled through and nothing was broken, just really banged up. Baby A did pretty well at first and was in my room with me in no time. About 3 1/2 hours later, Baby A was rushed off to the special nursery too because his blood sugar began to drop rapidly. It is not like me to let my babies go off without me, I had never let the previous three out of my sight while we were in the hospital, but this time it was out of my hands and I knew it. I had to let go. I had to sit back and allow this to play out without argument. I had to keep faith that we would all be OK. I was all alone in my room. I did not have my babies with me. I was so scared and so sad. I still hadn't met Baby B. Family started to show up. Put on my happy face and play nice. Smile.

The room is now full. There are at least ten of our closest family members in there and no babies. They had all just missed Baby A by twenty minutes or so. We chat, we laugh, we wait. My husband is nearest the door when it begins to open. I perk up because I can see the wheels of a bassinet under the privacy curtain. Baby A must be back, good, they will get to meet him. My husband picks up the baby with an ear to ear smile, so sweetly and begins to show him around. Like a shock straight to my heart I hear him say that it is Baby B and I am instantly bawling, streaming tears down my face, my arms outstretched as far as I can because I can't get up and out of the bed. I blubber, "It's Baby B! Oh my God, I haven't got to meet him yet!!" I am reaching, crying, feeling like I am drowning in a rush of emotions! Please, my dear husband, turn around and give him to me, please! I can not stand this much longer and am about to explode from wanting and needing and loving my baby! A few people see my desperate face and hear my heartfelt pleas and step forward hesitantly to help get Allen's attention. This all takes place in a matter of seconds but to me it was an eternity. He turns full circle and realizes what is going on and hands Baby B to me as quickly as possible. Ah...instant sigh of relief. Sweet, sweet Baby B is in my arms and I am complete. I am still bawling but smiling about it now. I look up at the room full of people and say, "I am sorry, please feel free to step closer, I just hadn't got to meet him yet." They did not know this and I had made a scene. I was allowed. But he was mine to hold, for now. I saw a few tears in other's eyes. We had word that Baby A was doing great and would be back soon. All was well. We made it. Our family of seven.

April 2013 - 6 months old

Baby A:  6 lbs. 13 ozs., born 11:53 AM
Baby B:  6 lbs. 9 ozs., born 12:00 PM

That is nearly 13 1/2 lbs. of baby at 36 1/2 weeks. No wonder I felt so awful. Thank goodness I let them sweep!

* This post is the sequel to 'When Push Comes to Shove'

Who the Hell Am I?

Good question. I am evolving. I know that as people we always are but at this particular moment in my life I have been doing so rather rapidly. I have been pretty set in my ways until recently. Having the twins has put changes in motion that I may and may not like. I also know that some of these changes are necessary and I am not really fighting them. I'm rolling with them. As if there was really a choice.

I make my bed every day. Crazy, right? I have not done this regularly in as long as I can remember. I was always in such a rush during my mornings. Not anymore. Now I do it. It feels strangely nice. Sort of like getting dressed in the morning. I still consider walking right by it sometimes, old habits you know, but then I stop myself and take the few seconds and actually make it. I figure there is no longer any good excuses. I am here all day every day now. Why not make the bed?

I have had to reschedule many appointments in the last eight weeks. This was really unlike me. Nowadays, it is just the way it goes. I have a nearly three year old girl and eight week old twin boys at home with me all day long. (The older kids are usually in school) Sometimes I just can not get somewhere. This bothers me a little bit but I know it is for the best and I have to remain flexible. It ultimately comes down to the kids well being, happiness and stress levels. I have to anticipate their moods and collective voices. I have to be kind to all of us and not push our limits unless absolutely necessary. I may have to reschedule sometimes but I will be forever punctual. If I am going to be somewhere, I will be there on time. This I can not let go of. Even with all the kids, I am pretty good at getting all of us ready and out the door on time. It is important to me. I really can't stand the feeling of being late. I avoid it as much as possible.

My laundry and dishes don't pile up anymore. These tasks, along with raising five kids and running our household, are all part of my new career, Stay-At-Home-Mom. My laundry baskets and sink are my new "Inboxes". I heard it takes 28 days to form a habit. I am not so sure. I have been home for eight weeks now and I still struggle a bit. I have to make a conscious effort every single day in order to stay on top of these things. Although, it could just be because I am at the mercy of five strange young beings I willingly share my house with. (wink)

I don't really sleep anymore. Apparently, I can still function surprisingly well with only a couple hours here and a couple hours there. It is not the most restful sleep either. I sleep with one eye open, so to speak, most of the time. I don't expect to be able to keep this up too much longer and should probably start finding ways to get a little more sleep soon. For the time being, I am hanging in there. I have always been one of those people that can fall asleep anytime and anywhere. I could sleep until two in the afternoon every single day if I had no responsibilities at all. Strangely, it seems with every new child I have I get less and less sleep at night. Imagine the odds.

I, admittedly, don't look quite my best lately. I was a working gal until the end of September. I wore nice clothes with all the fun accessories to match. I wore nylons and cute high heeled shoes. I did my make-up every morning and felt quite "put together". I took pride in my appearance at work. I am a firm believer in the saying, "Dress for the job you want, not the job you have." I lived by these words, most days. These days, I'm lucky if I even get to brush my hair. I wear comfy clothes and fuzzy socks. I think I have put make-up on three times in the last eight weeks. I'm sure this sounds nice at first but, trust me, it can get a little old. I want to be cute again. Ha, ha. I have somewhere between five and ten pounds left to lose and then all of my normal clothes should fit me again. Then the trick will be to find the time to put it all on. But, then again, maybe I would just use that time to scarf some food down quickly before somebody needs something else. Maybe I would even get a potty break. (smirk)

The list goes on and on. The babies might have to cry a little bit longer than I would usually allow while they wait their turn for a clean diaper or I prepare two bottles instead of just one. My daughter might not get a bubble bath every other night like I would prefer. I make more dinners in the crock pot in order to save myself time in the kitchen at night. My house is a little bit cleaner that usual. I was actually able to audition for a play, which is something I have not been able to do since I was a junior in high school. I don't get to run to the store as often as I would like to. And so on. This is all OK, though. I am in a transitional period in my life. Do not misunderstand this blog entry as me complaining. Think of it more as though I am just stating the facts with a hint of sarcasm. A little bit of venting to an adult audience, as I am surrounded by small children all day otherwise. I am so very lucky to have what I have. I love this new version of my life and will embrace each day as it comes. I am truly blessed and I will not take this all for granted. Here is to the new and ever changing me.

When Push Comes to Shove

I have the workout of my life coming up soon. I have some hard decisions that I hopefully get to make. I have been through this situation three times before and I still have no idea what to expect. There are too many variables, too many possible problems and different outcomes. I mean, obviously, the final outcome will be two adorable baby boys being introduced into my world. What I am saying is that between now and that moment I can hold them in my arms for the very first time, a whole lot can and is going to happen.

Rewind almost fourteen years ago, I was twenty years old and in labor with my first born son. When I went into labor, at first, I did not know that I was in labor yet. I was at a party being thrown for my Ex and myself. Our last big Hoorah before being grounded for life. Everyone was having a good time; touch football, beer, food, friends. I sat at the picnic table outside and crocheted while chatting with the ladies. I started to feel just a little off, sort of sick to my stomach with a little lower back ache. No big deal, I could just go inside and lay on the couch for a bit. I was fine. Hmm.

Lucky for me, the friend who was throwing us the party has a mother who was an RN. When she came in to replenish the party food, she saw me laying there in her living room and started in with the questions. She then quickly got her mother on the phone who suggested I get to the hospital as soon as possible because I was obviously in labor. Also, we were partying in Buffalo, MN and our hospital of choice was in Fridley, MN. A little bit of a drive. I was two weeks away from my due date and caught off guard. Needless to say, we were on the road within minutes, shortly after 7 PM. Around forty five minutes later we arrived at the hospital. My Mom had arrived too, my rock. The doctor quickly determined that my stubborn son was in a breech position, sitting cross-legged over the exit, so to speak, and my contractions were coming much faster and harder. They were going to have to do an emergency C-section but I had eaten dinner at the party only a couple hours earlier so they wanted to hold off as long as possible. You are not supposed to eat for twelve hours before major surgery with anesthesia because of the increased risk of vomiting and then choking on it. Glamorous.

Just before midnight, they could not wait any longer for the sake of the baby and I was rushed to the operating room. Bright lights, people in masks everywhere, stainless steel glinting, big blue curtain thrown up in front of my face to block the view, completely numb from the shoulders down, throwing up into a little plastic tub, the Father of my child staying close but with fear in his eyes, constant commotion...and then...the baby cries out. Sweet relief, but only momentarily. He is quickly held up to my face for a look-see. Then he is just as quickly taken away for a bit while I get stitched, stapled, cleaned up, poked and prodded, sick a little more and, of course, Morphined. I had told his father to go be with him, I would be fine. The baby needed one of us there.

Once we were back in our room it was much more calm and quiet. Thank goodness. Family trickled in through the wee hours to see the first grandchild/nephew. It was very nice and we were so proud and in love with our new bundle. Everything was great, everything except for the itching. Oh my God, the itching! I could literally have scratched my face off. Hold my hands down and tell me to stop scratching. But it itches so much!...I learned that I was allergic to Morphine that night. Good to know.

In the weeks to come, my incision became infected and I had to be put on antibiotics. Kind of a scary thing though; sitting in bed, reading a book, minding my own business and then I look down and see blood spreading on the front of my shirt by my abdomen. It all worked out OK in the end but I was freaked out for a bit. I had a few anxiety dreams after that of my insides falling out and I could not get them back in for the life of me. Shudder.

That was my first time. My second was quite a different experience. I was twenty two years old and now had a twenty month old son. I woke up at 7:00 in the morning, as usual. I knew immediately, this time, that I was in labor. My sons' Father was at work already and I proceeded to wake up my toddler and get him ready for daycare. I called in to my work and explained that I was having my baby today so I, of course, would not be in that day. I was very calm and not scared at all. This felt right. The contractions were normal and spaced out nicely, not too painful yet. I packed up my son into the car and drove him to daycare. I called my Ex from there and told him to meet me at the hospital, this was it. The daycare lady thought I was a little strange for driving myself but I assured her that I was just fine.

I arrived at the hospital at around 8:30 AM. Their Father and my Super Mom were close behind. All was normal. I hung out in the room, sipped on broth, rocked in a chair and watched reruns of The Cosby Show. Once my labor became more active, I agreed to some pain medication. I think it was something that started with an N, although I do not remember for sure. It burned like crazy going up my arm and into my blood stream. Within minutes I was knocked out cold and drooling on my pillow like some kind of zombie. I woke up during the stronger contractions and then fell right back into unconscious sleep. This was not really the experience I had had in mind. The majority of my day was lost to me. Later on in the evening I came to and gave birth to my second beautiful son. I had an epidural and was able to deliver him by Vbac, vaginal birth after cesarean. He was born around 7:30 at night, about a twelve hour event. Not bad, time wise, I just wish I had been conscious for more of it. Oh well. Should of, would of, could of.

The day I gave birth to my daughter in 2009, another Vbac delivery, everything went perfectly. At around 9:00 AM I knew that I was in labor. Slow and steady. I was having small contractions every twenty minutes all throughout the day. It was New Year's Eve and we had no big plans, no reason to rush. I took a long relaxing bath and braided my hair. I painted my nails nice and did my make-up, nothing fancy, just enough to make me feel pretty. I sat in the recliner for most of the day and rocked slowly. I watched Romancing the Stone and reminisced of the night my husband and I had our first kiss while watching the same movie years before. Nostalgic. My husband was supposed to be at work by 4:00 PM. My contractions were not any closer or stronger yet so I assured him I was fine and let him go. My sons were home with me and plenty old enough to call someone in case of emergency, but I felt just fine anyway. At about 4:45 PM I had some quick changes in my contraction intensity and proximity and realized it was time to get up and get to the hospital. I calmly told my sons that they needed to go brush their teeth and pack a bag of entertainment because it was time for us to go to the hospital. They were surprised and stared at me for a moment, then they realized that I was serious and they got excited and ran upstairs. They did not take very long. I, meanwhile, warmed up the car. We were having a record cold winter and this night was no exception. I called my husband and told him to meet us at the hospital, too bad he drove all the way to work for nothing. I could feel his excitement through the phone. I then called my Mom and told her to meet us at the hospital too. By 5:30 PM, we were all set, the boys were in the waiting room with other excited family members. I elected to have another epidural but absolutely none of the other drugs. I would not miss any of this birth. I wanted to be awake. I wanted to remember. And I do.

She was born at 9:30 PM. Nice and short delivery. No complications. Everything went smoothly. There was a Blue Moon hanging in the sky that night. I will never forget the moment my sons came in to meet their baby sister. The love in their eyes was indescribable. The were practically vibrating from the love and excitement radiating from their bodies. Melted my heart.

In the next six to nine weeks I will be back in the hospital doing it all over again. I do not want a cesarean birth again. The time it takes to heal and all the restrictions to follow are not as easy once you have more children to take care of. I do not want to be out of commission for that long. I also know that I may not have a choice. At my last appointment the babies were both head up, or in breech position. The doctor assured me that there is still plenty of time for two busy babies to flip over and face head down. I know he is right but I can't help thinking about how little space that they have compared to a baby in there all alone. Only time will tell.

My doctor mentioned that with twin pregnancies they usually schedule the cesarean delivery for 38 weeks, two weeks before the regular anticipated delivery date. At first this made sense to me but the more that I think about it, the more I don't like it, deep down in my gut. I have done some research and came across a documentary called The Business of Being Born made by Ricki Lake a few year ago. It was very eye opening and it really got me thinking about my wants and wishes compared to the motives and rules of modern medicine, hospitals, insurance companies, etc. I know in my heart that I do not want to be cut open again if I do not have to be. I need to have a long talk with my doctor at my next appointment.

This will be my last birthing experience. I am older, stronger and wiser. I will not endanger the babies but I will also not be pushed into something I do not want to do. There is a part of me that feels like I may be able to handle giving birth naturally without any drugs or interventions. I have not decided this for sure but it is rolling around in my brain at the moment. If the babies are breech and I have to have a c-section, so be it. I get it and their safety comes first. I do not want to schedule it at 38 weeks though. I want the babies to stay inside me as long as possible. The longer they stay in, the healthier and more ready for the world they will be. The longer they stay in, the better their chances are of flipping head down and allowing a vaginal birth. Sure, it might suck for me physically, but that is not the point. A couple more stretch marks, big deal. A couple more weeks of swollen ankles and restless nights, so what. Worth it if it is for them.

My husband is not so sure about the "no intervention" child birth experience and I understand why. It has to be so hard to stand by while someone you love is in pain and there is nothing you can do to make them feel better. Maybe that person actually yells out and says stupid or mean things to you unintentionally while you stand by and try to be supportive and helpful. Were I looking in from his side, I can kind of see it. I still think I might be strong enough, given the chance. This is my last opportunity to try. I feel that if I am so lucky that both babies flip over head down and there are no other unforeseen complications, that will be my sign. That will be my sign that I should go ahead and give natural child birth a shot. The chance to make this special and unique. A chance to prove to myself that I am strong and I can make it, stay awake for it and see it through in a completely different way. A way that used to be the only way. The only way for thousands of years before my time on this earth. I will be in a safe place. Should any complications arise, I will be in expert hands. I may even chicken out and beg for the epidural in the end. I just don't want the choice taken away from me. I want to be in the driver's seat. I want the chance to decide. This will be a memorable experience no matter the outcome. I am not scared. I am almost there. I have my amazing husband and my Mom at my side. I think I can do this.

*** The sequel to this post about the birth experience of my twins is here: I Pushed & They Shoved

Waiting Patiently

Thank you all for waiting so patiently for me to get back into the swing of things. I have also been waiting patiently, as that is all I can do at this point. I am now 28 weeks into my pregnancy with fraternal twin bouncing baby boys. The proverbial dust has settled since our shocking and life altering discovery of their existence in my practiced womb. Our three children are on board and excited for new siblings to arrive. The entire family that surrounds us have been so supportive and it feels like we have our own personal cheering section. We are ready...as ready as we can expect to be at his point.

I have the basic necessities. Diapers, clothes, blankets, etc. I am not stressing to have all the superfluous items at this point. I am in no condition to be stressed out. I have been down this familiar road before and now know what I will need immediately and what kind of things that can just wait. For example, I have two cribs, two swings, two activity bouncers and another high chair available to me but I have decided not to worry myself with getting these things home and set up yet. I realize that the babies will be quite small and that my play pen and breasts will suffice until I am ready. When the babies come home, I realize I am going to have nothing but time to set up my nest. I have no reason to hurry this process. This will be my last dance with newborns of my own body and I am going to relax and absorb the whole experience. I am going to enjoy it.

Changes are lurking around every corner for us. We have a lot on our plate and are staying focused on some goals. We already handled the car-is-too-small-for-a-family-of-seven problem. I traded in my Aztek for a Yukon and we are extremely happy with this decision so far. I was determined not to drive a mini van. I know that there are many of them out there and to each their own but I am just so not "that girl". I am still a wanna-be rock star at heart and a mini van would cramp my style. Ha!

Our house is quite old and in the current market we know that we could not sell it as fast as we need to or for nearly as much as we would want to. We are in the middle of a refinance instead with the hopes of keeping and renting our home so we can move on to a bigger and better one. Three bedrooms won't cut it for long with five kids. We have always been interested in owning rental property and this may be our first chance. Unfortunately, we are on quite a time crunch and I am waiting patiently for the results of the refinance. My last day at work is at the end of September, as long as the babies stay put. In order for this whole plan to work out we need both our incomes to qualify for a second mortgage. If it doesn't work out we will, of course, remain in our current abode, it will just be a tight fit. Plenty of families live with as little or less and we will be fine if it comes to that. For our plan to work we  just need to find a house, make an offer, get it accepted and then close on the new house within the next nine weeks or so. What? It could happen, right? I am staying positive and on track. It is all I can do.

I recently gave my notice at my job. I will not be returning to work after my maternity leave. I have given up my career for an indefinite length of time to stay home with the children. Lucky for us, my husband graduated last December and found a great job just minutes from our home. We could not be happier with his choice of employer and it could not have come at a better time for us as a family. Without the cost of daycare any longer, we will survive. We do not live extravagantly and are very practical people. We have lots of love and each other. We are aware that it will be hard at times but it will all turn out okay and we will only grow closer from the experience. This will be our next chapter.

Summer is fast coming to a close and we have a child beginning High School this September. We just finished with our sons' baseball seasons a few weeks ago and Fall baseball is beginning in less than three weeks. August will be full of preparations for school, buying supplies, going through the kids clothes, orientations, summer camp and more. It has been the hottest summer in recorded world history and I get to be pregnant for it. Something for the babies to hear about and enjoy, at my expense. Completely worth it, though. In a month we will be back into the routine of homework, baseball practice and games, band events, other extracurricular activities the kids throw at me, volunteering for the school as I can and then, you know, giving birth and all that. Nothing I can't handle. As long as I can stay off bed rest.

The Clouds Begin to Part

After my doctor's appointment yesterday morning I am feeling a whole lot better, mentally that is. The heavy gray clouds that have been floating above my head like Eeyore's for the last thirteen weeks are finally dissipating. Some people very dear to me have been worried about me and I am sorry for that. Others seem to think that I was/am not happy that I am pregnant. This is truly not the case. I am very happy to be pregnant one last time. My husband and I planned to do this together one last time. I have just been extremely afraid and on edge lately. I tried not to let it show but apparently I sucked at my attempt. Oops.

When I was pregnant with my three previous children I was happy the whole time. Of course there was the feeling sick times and the feeling tired times, but all around I was quite happy. Last fall I became pregnant and was so very happy. My last baby was on it's way. I found out on a Thursday morning in November and was, as usual, instantly in love. It is almost indescribable how quickly I fall in love. Two days later, on a Saturday night, I miscarried. I had only known about the baby for two short days but it hurt me deep down to lose it just the same. I try to keep my experience in perspective. I know that my measly two days are nothing compared to the experiences other mothers have had to endure. I did not realize how much it had hurt me until February when I became pregnant again, with my amazing, yet shocking, twins. Not only am I at a little higher risk of complications due to being blessed with twins but I now had this little dark cloud in my mind about the very realistic possibility of it all coming to an abrupt end.

Since February I have felt scared to become to attached to them. I have been hesitant to think to far into the future with them for fear of losing them. It was not quite as fun to think of names yet. I was made to wait six weeks between appointments this last time because I am doing just fine medically. Six weeks was far too long for my constant worrying brain. From weeks ten through weeks sixteen of the pregnancy we were still in a big danger zone. Miscarriage is more likely in the first trimester and Vanishing Twin Syndrome is not that uncommon up to around week twelve, something I came to find out after much research on my part. By week sixteen it is very normal not to really feel the babies move much yet. All of these facts were sitting right smack dab in the middle of my head. It has truly been a long six weeks for me. And I was already tired, to boot.

Yesterday morning, my husband and I went to my sixteen week appointment. Since I am having twins, my wonderful Doctor likes to do an ultrasound to check the babies heartbeats in order to tell them apart easier, which means I get to see them every time I go in. Yesterday, the moment I saw the first beautiful thing on the screen, it gave a little wiggle and brought a tear to my eye. Very quickly, the Doctor moved onto the next sweet little being and I saw that one wiggle too. A huge weight was immediately lifted from my weary shoulders. They are still in there and they are just fine. They are alive and kicking, literally. I will begin to feel their tiny ninja moves very soon. They are truly breath taking and they are all mine. Sigh of relief. Ahh.

Last night I was able to sit down and really write down a list of possible baby names, which is always super fun for me. I feel like I slept a little more sound. I am feeling so much more relaxed and am jonesing to garage sale like a crazy person, tee hee. I know that things can still go wrong because I am realistic. It is possible I could have pre-term labor, complications of all different kinds and even get stuck on bed rest while trying to raise three great kids at the same time. I just feel a whole lot better about the whole situation and am thinking positive thoughts. I feel happy and content. I am still tired, which is to be expected, and my appetite is finally starting to appear full throttle. I know it is going to be a long, hot and busy summer...but I am actually looking forward to it.

Two Sick & Two Tired

No, I did not drop off the face of the planet. No, I did not give up on my blog. I did, however, recently have my world rocked and needed some time to process and recuperate. What's the big deal, you ask? I am pregnant. This is good news. Great news, in fact. My husband and I decided to leave it up to fate and see if one more child was in the cards for us. Come to find out that fate actually wanted us to have two more babies. Yup. You heard me right, it is twins! I was in complete shock. At moments, here and there, I actually still am.

Looking back I feel quite naive that the possibility of having twins never once crossed my mind. There are no twins on either side of our families, as far back as we know. But when you think about straight odds, I should have thought of it. I am thirty four. I have five brothers and between the six of us we already have ten kids. It was bound to happen to one of us eventually. Fate picked me.

I am a planner. I have become more organized. I am proud of how far I have come over the last ten years. There are no late bill payments, no late papers. I have our medical, personal, educational, financial and social affairs in order. I planned for one more baby. I was whole-heartedly ready for one last baby. Fate does not seem to care for my plans. Fate must think I had things a little too figured out.

Things have changed. I need a bigger car and a bigger house. These are things I already wanted but was in no hurry to acquire them. There is a possibility I will need to quit my job and be a stay-at-home-Mom for a while. This would be a blessing. A way to bond with my children that was never an option in my life before. The mentally difficult part of this for me is that I just spent the last four years of my life working my hardest towards a specific career goal. My efforts were beginning to pay off and changes were slowly in the works. Having one more baby would not have changed this path for me. Two more babies truly does.

I have had six weeks to process all of this information. I have been a wreck on so many different levels. This pregnancy has already been so different from my previous ones. I am extremely nautious and more tired than I have felt in my whole life. Hibernation sounds quite wonderful right now.  My emotions are completely out of control. There have been episodes of depression and self-loathing. There is no libido to speak of. Some women feel more beautiful and excitable when the are pregnant. I have heard tales of glowing skin and hair and nails that grow in perfection. Not me. I actually feel extra hideous, gross, bloated and lame. I break out, which I almost never have a problem with when I am not pregnant. I am too hot, uncomfortable and irritable. I can't believe my husband was willing to do this with me again. I am truly grateful for my husband. He is a saint to sit by my side while I struggle with my body and my brain. My poor neglected husband. I am so lucky to have him.

And I now know that I am lucky to be having twins. I love babies. They are precious and smell like purity. I am very good with kids. Being a mother is my favorite. I have an amazing partner-in-crime and we have plenty of love to go around. I would be lying if I said I wasn't still a little bit scared. I am realistic. We are not out of the woods yet. October is still a ways away, but I have high hopes and I am excited. I have a large and supportive family. We will be okay. Even without my perfect plans.