So how were your holidays? Were the Elves good to you? Our Christmas was nice and quiet. Very quiet. Lots of sleeping...and taking of the drugs here. I had surgery scheduled in early December, and well, that didn't go so well. So, I ended up getting my head punctured, squeezed and drained. And then, right before Christmas had surgery again. Poor, poor ear. I do have a nice Frankenstein scar to show for it. Had over a dozen stiches and a nice little drain sticking out of my head for a while. It still hurts too, but I do admit that I am the world's BIGGEST baby.
I have been sleep a lot. More than I should. My poor husband has taken the brunt of baby-care in the interim - but I am trying to bounce back and make it up to him. Hard when the narcotics are so good. And I have learned about Ambien, which is nice. Sleep comes so easily. I am now a prescription drug addict. Zyvox, Percocet, Vicodin, Ciprodex, Zofran (medicine of the Gods - I swear) to list a few. I have learned that I am 1) allergic to phenergran and 2) allergic to vicodin and 3) Benedryl is a wonder drug and I love it much.
So Christmas here brought a cool bench, lots of movies and music (ever heard of Mae or Augustana?) and the new Bon Jovi rocks. Seriously. My husband surprised me with lots of great, great books and plenty of lazy rest time. I loved it. He makes the holidays fun - something that nobody has been able to do for me my whole life.
So how were your holidays? Were the Elves good to you? Our Christmas was nice and quiet. Very quiet. Lots of sleeping...and taking of the drugs here. I had surgery scheduled in early December, and well, that didn't go so well. So, I ended up getting my head punctured, squeezed and drained. And then, right before Christmas had surgery again. Poor, poor ear. I do have a nice Frankenstein scar to show for it. Had over a dozen stiches and a nice little drain sticking out of my head for a while. It still hurts too, but I do admit that I am the world's BIGGEST baby.
I can't even quite say how I came across this, but I can say that YOU MUST BUY THESE! Or, simply laugh at them and wonder why they exist... seriously. Go look.
Heh - Jesus playing hockey. Check 'em!!!!
Do you think of yourself as emotional? Are you easily caught up in a book or movie or conversation – so much so that you get visibly choked up? I am not one of those people. I never used to be anyway… As time passes, I seem to become more and more emotional. I wonder why? I tend to think it is due to being less concerned about what others think and more interest in living than I used to be. I am getting a glimpse of how short life is. I am also coming to realize that life is about living it – the good, the bad, the joy, the sadness, even the overwhelming things that we all face. The only thing we have in life – is, well – living it. I don’t know what I used to think this whole life thing was about – but I was certainly in a hurry to get on to the next thing. I took great pride in never crying at the movies, or not caring much about anyone (at least not openly). I tried desperately to never get too attached to anyone, just in case they disappointed me. Now – I don’t care about the same things. I don’t care about image, or protecting myself as much. I get satisfaction from feeling whatever comes my way, from testing my emotions, from falling head over heals in love. I think this is the better way to live.
I grew up in South Bend, Indiana. We lived within a few miles of Notre Dame. Ask me where I went to college? Go ahead. What? Notre Dame? Hell no! I went to Indiana University. I think about it now and wonder why on earth I didn’t go to our home-town school. Money? Maybe. However I think the main reason was that I wanted to get away from home. I wanted to feel “on my own” and experience a new place. After spending my freshman year at home in a community college so that I could save some money, I just couldn’t wait to leave. And leave I did.
IU was not the best thing that ever happened to me. There are a lot of idiots that hang out near colleges waiting for trouble. There are a lot of stupid girls away from home for the first time that think that they are invincible. There are a lot of folks in the college administration that want to make the general public think that nothing bad happens at their school.
I had gone jogging fairly late one evening, and was victim to some creep hanging out near the stadium. It was scary and horrible and humiliating and mind-numbing and a million other feelings that I can’t even begin to describe. There just are not words… I ended up at a friends dorm not far from where it happened. I didn’t know where else to go or what to do. I really don’t even remember why I went there – I just know that I did. After arguing with her for hours I finally agreed to go the hospital.
I have to tell those of you without this type of experience that the hospital exam is almost worse than the rape. I was terrified. I was hurt. I don’t know if I was in shock, but I know that I had experienced about all that I could handle. And I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to hide and not speak to anyone – ever again. What I didn’t want was a room full of doctors, nurses and detectives asking me questions, taking blood, hair, and other miscellaneous samples for the next few hours. I also didn’t want to spend hours at the police station speaking to other detectives and making an official statement.
The days and weeks that followed were some of the hardest I have faced. Notes started showing up at my dorm threatening me. Flowers showed up with no name on them. The guy that I was sure had raped me showed up in the dorm lunch hall and began talking to me. The police finally had me guarded 24x7, but it did little to make me feel any better. One day in February he showed up at my dorm, pushed his way into my room and attacked me. I was thrown out the second story window, and since the police were within view of the window – was immediately taken to the hospital.
There were witnesses that saw the guy enter the dorm, push me out the window, and leave the dorm running. The Bloomington police had witnessed part of it. And yet, the campus police – didn’t believe any of it. Seriously. They claimed that it didn’t happen and that I ‘made it up” – and suggested that I get an attorney as they would be pressing charges – on me! WTF?
My mother hired an attorney who interviewed the Bloomington police, the hospital doctors that treated me, and the other witnesses. DNA evidence was collected from both me and my dorm room. I was interviewed and tested by a psychiatrist (tests revealing that I was normal kid who had suffered a traumatic event) And, after one face-to-face meeting with my lawyer and the school, all charges were dropped and the investigation handed over the Bloomington police with the school’s full cooperation.
The school wanted to protect their statistics so that parents and kids wouldn’t be scared off. They apparently convince kids to not report dangerous incidents so that their stats look good and they don’t lose enrollments because of the rapes or other bad events that happen. Apparently in the 70’s IU had a serious rape problem – and most of them occurred out by the stadium. Go figure. However since the school officials had started abusing victims, their stats had drastically improved… so, yeah.
In the end, I didn’t press charges against the school. I didn't even pursue finding my attacker. I left school and wanted to forget everything that happened. I pushed all of those events to the back of my memory and tried to never think of them again.
I was contacted by someone at IU a few years later. They were writing an article on how the school was trying to cook the rape numbers to make the school look better to prospects. I talked with them, but declined to include my name in the article. I didn’t want to drudge all of that up anymore.
All these years later, I wish that I had fought the school, that I had taken a stand, that I had made a difference. I wish that I had pursued my attacker and put him away. I wish that I had sued the school and contributed to making their mistakes public knowledge. I wish I had made the world a little bit better because of an experience I had. I wish I had made the best of a bad situation and let others learn from it. I wish, I wish, I wish.
My mother was raised by her Grandparents because her mother was not mentally stable and could not care for her. I never really questioned my mother about what was wrong with her mother, or what happened to her father. I had never known my Grandfather and seldom visited any of my relatives. I never met her Grandparents and she didn’t talk about them. Ever.
At my mothers funeral 15 years ago, one of my cousins told me what had happened to my Grandmother and my Grandfather, and I understood why my mother was not raised by them…
My Great-grandparents were fairly well off. My Great-grandfather designed and built bridges in Ohio. They were some-what social and wanted the best for their only daughter, Margaret. Apparently when my Grandmother was quite young she fell in love with a man that had no money – strike 1, didn’t come from a high-class family – strike 2, and was not liked AT ALL by her parents – strike 3. When she told her parents that she was pregnant, things could not have gone worse.
Margaret’s parents were livid. They did not want her marrying that man. They did not want him in their family. And they paid him to leave and never come back. He took the money and nobody heard from him again… nice don’t you think? Well, my mother went a little nuts and never recovered. She was institutionalized after my mother was born and was never ever normal.
My family is THAT insane. Seriously.
Interesting take from an on-call doctor on post-IVF loss:
Watch part of Season 1 of House.
Seeing a pattern there? I swear to some-almighty-being that all we do is feed babies.
I am feeling small and insignificant. I feel as if the tests I have faced in life are small, and that I have failed many of even those. If I were to die today, I would not feel accomplished. I would not feel justified in being given the gift of life. What can I do to change this? To feel worthy of this life I have been given? How do I make each day count for something special? What do I need to change in order to feel as though I am contributing more than I am taking from this life? Will I be remembered? If so, will people think of me quickly and then forget just the same, or will things that I have done leave a lasting impression? I don’t want to contemplate the answer to this one – I am afraid of what I may realize.
Do you think we should find meaning in life? Do you think that we are supposed to learn from it, contribute to it, change the world? If not, what do you think our purpose here is? Do we even have one?
Last night I woke up to baby sounds. There was a child awake and playing at 3:30 in the morning – oblivious to the world sleeping soundly around him. Having not yet slept at all (thank you ear from hell) I decided to coax him back to sleep. I went into his room and looked into the bed, expecting to find a head-bobby baby flailing about trying to find his paci. What I found instead was a bright eyed, squeely little boy looking right up at me. He had rolled over and was playing. Now, he has rolled over before, but not at night. We put the boys to sleep on the stomachs and that is how they wake up. Until now. He was the same way this morning at 6 – on his back smiling, ready to get up and play…the little butt.
I sit in the rocking chair holding you against my chest. I can feel your chest move with each breath. Your head is tipped up toward me, you face tucked under my chin. I feel you eyelashes flutter against my skin when you blink. You are quiet and happy and perfect.
I just had wonderful sushi. I am in Austin on business for the night, so I decided to celebrate not having to get up with babies and treat myself to sushi and some wine. I went to this little house on Lamar near downtown called Uchi. Oh wow it was good. They had Toro, which was unbelievable – fresh from Perth Australia (or as fresh as it can be after being flown half-way around the world) – and I must say that I LOVE TORO. LOVE IT. However, I HATE the freaking cost. HATE IT!
One order of Super Toro Sushimi – 34.00
One order of Hamachi (yellowtail) – 12.00
One Crunchy Tuna Roll – 12.00
One bowl of Miso Soup – 2.00
One glass of Syrah – 10.00
Total – too freaking expensive to look at in print again.
And – I am not full. I was just tired of spending money.
I also went jogging around Town Lake. Nice. It was in the upper 70’s and sunny, and although trail was packed, it was still very nice to be out. I am not sure how far I went, but I was out for about 45 minutes…so 4-5 miles maybe. I was supposed to do 35 minutes, so I achieved that easily. Something about jogging somewhere new makes me more motivated.
Tomorrow – up at 6:00am so that I can pick up someone at the airport and head to an 8:30 meeting – yuck. But – right now I have to finish my glass of wine so that I can fall promptly to sleep.
Sunday consisted of making up for all of the laziness on Saturday. It was a whirlwind of a day and it made me regret being so freaking lazy the day before. Grocery shopping, jogging 5 miles, a trip to SAM’s, laundry, more laundry, and yet MORE laundry, dinner (pesto chicken and stuffed grilled tomatoes), work, and lots of baby-feeding. I am tired just thinking about it. And now we are facing a crazy work-week. I have to travel a lot. I have a one hour meeting that I have to fly to tomorrow, which always consumes the whole day with the pain-in-the-ass airport security mess. I have a trip Wednesday – returning Thursday – for another meeting, and then I have real work on Friday to make up for all of the traveling and not working done.
Today I have to take the boys to the hospital for their first set of Synargis shots. Not looking forward to that. At all. ½ day spent trying to entertain hungry, grumpy babies who are getting shots just so they can observe them and make sure there are no allergic reactions… should be a freaking blast! Then – I have to pick up a sick daughter from her dad’s and another from school and try to fit in work and more feeding of the boys. The time – it goes to quickly.
Saturdays are full of promise here. We plan lots of activities / chores / obligations and usually attack at least half of them.
Fade into yesterday.
We had not made any plans. We did not discuss doing much more than jogging and watching the UT football game. It is a good thing too. Do you want to know what we did yesterday? It will take but a second to read about it… NOTHING. We DID watch UT barely beat OSU. And that sums it up. We did NOT go jogging (first skipped day all month). We did not do laundry. We did not leave the house with the exception of going to get breakfast (which was NOT on my diet). It was fantastic. I took two naps. We fed the babies a million times. We played Trivial Pursuit. We cooked dinner (oh my god – orgasm inducing dinner – must give you recipe). We watched a little TV. That is about it. Nice.
Oh yes – dinner recipe... Tomatillo Braised Pork with White Beans
1 cup small white beans (I used Navy)
1 Tablespoon thyme
1 Tablespoon marjoram
3 bay leaves
4 thick slices smoky bacon
2-pound pork tenderloin
3 cups Tomatillo Salsa
In a medium-size saucepan, combine the beans with 4 cups of water, add the herbs and bay leaves, partially cover and set over high heat. When the pot comes to a rolling boil, reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer the beans (partially covered) until they are tender, about 1 hour. Add more water if the beans ever begin peeking up above the surface of the water.
While the beans cook, in a medium-size (6-quart) Dutch oven, cook the bacon slices over medium heat, turning them occasionally, until thoroughly crispy. Remove to drain on paper towels; when cool, crumble. Spoon off most of the fat that collects, adding it to the simmering beans.
Heat the oven to 325 degrees. Sprinkle the meat liberally with salt. Set the Dutch oven over medium-high heat, and, when quite hot, lay in the pork. Brown thoroughly on all sides, about 10 minutes total, then pour in the salsa. Set on the pot’s cover and place in the oven. Cook until the pork registers about 160° on a meat or instant-read thermometer–the meat will feel rather firm (not hard) to the touch, and cutting into the center will reveal only the slightest hint of pink (about 40 minutes)
When the beans are tender, season them with salt, usually about 1 teaspoon. Let stand a few minutes for the beans to absorb the seasoning, then drain off their cooking liquid. Remove the pork to a cutting board, add the beans to the pork pot, set over medium heat and season with salt. Slice the pork, laying the slices slightly overlapping on a warm serving platter. Spoon the beans and sauce around the meat, sprinkle everything with the crumbled bacon.
Work is hectic…as usual. Boys are good. Girls are good.
I hear you saying “Tell me something NEW” but there is a lack of newness here. Let me see what I can drudge up thought….
Running Talk: We are still running 4 days a week, which is getting hard to fit in with the crazy work our companies expect us to do. We try to do cross training twice a week, but we are seeing that task wane as time goes by. The priority is the running, and we are ok there.
Diet Talk: I am still on the South Beach Diet. I had planned to be on phase 1 for three weeks, however I ditched it after 2 weeks…I am weak. I wanted carbs. I also had birthday cake after two weeks – so there was cheating there. And it was so freaking good. I am hovering around 125 pounds, with 10 to lose. I need to be more diligent in eating the right things and sticking to the diet, but I just love food…so much.
Baby Talk: Boys don’t know any new tricks, but we are experimenting with their food and formula. Roark has been on Nutramigen and Cole on Enfamil (regular). We switched them both to ProSobee yesterday, hoping that Cole would spit up less and Roark would eat better. So far so good. Roark LOVES the new formula and Cole doesn’t seem to mind – both are happy and there are no bad reactions yet. The other plus? Nutramigen is $25.00 for 12.5 ounces. ProSobee is $12.00. Sign me up for THAT savings. As for solid food, they are eating bananas, apple sauce, peaches, peas, green beans, oatmeal, pears, carrots and sweet potatoes. We tried squash, but it was not well-received. Bananas are a favorite. As is the apple sauce. Then sweet potatoes. Carrots are tolerated, but not well-liked. I confess – I don’t make my baby food. I buy it (gasp) in jars (ohdeargod) at the grocery store (yes, I am going to hell – I don’t breast feed or make baby food).
Homefront / Ear Talk: Things at home are good. Bad day from earlier this week is over and done with and we are moving on. I still feel like crap all the time, but have decided to seek a second opinion and see another specialist on ears. And – DEMAND they freaking fix me. NOW DAMNIT!!!!!! What I need to do is get in quickly to see someone so that I can get this taken care of this year – before my insurance changes and we have to pay crazy amounts of money to fix this mess.
I can fix a garage door opener without the need to take a visit to our neighborhood emergency room.
I can get grease on my hands that may never ever come off completing above task.
I can ruin one very nice white sweatshirt in the process of fixing garage opening in spite of my husband warning me several times that I was going to ruin it if I kept it on.
I can spend crazy amounts of time and money at Home Depot looking for tools to fix a garage door opener, which we ended up not needing – and which I am NOT taking back because – new tools! How exciting!!
I can find information on just about anything thanks to Google (such as how to fix a garage door opener)
I can spend the better part of the work day not working at all and instead doing home improvement projects that I have no right doing in the first place.
It is Monday morning. I have a full week of work ahead of me. I have zero interest in doing any of it – ever. This is going to be a long week.
- Constant white spitup marks on my left shoulder and arm
- My latest perfume – Ode De Nutramigen
- My continual muttering of “Do you smell poop?”
- ALWAYS tired
- Ability to hear a baby crying anywhere within a 3 mile radius
- My inability to concentrate on anything in the presence of above said crying
- Constantly singing stupid songs…about absolutely anything
- Talking nonstop while doing normal everyday things (…and now I am brushing my hair, brush, brush, brush)
- Inability to sit down and eat a full meal without getting up 16 times
- Thinking 5 hours straight is a LOT of sleep
Typical weekend…up to feed the boys around 5:30 and then I sneak back to bed while my husband hangs out with them. Up again to feed them around 8:30 and my day begins. I love Saturdays. I get to sleep. Thank GOD my husband is a morning person or we would both grump around in a funk until 9. What do you call it when you like to sleep in AND go to bed early? Lazy, you say? Shut up.
My youngest daughter spent yesterday late afternoon with a friend buying a Halloween costume for some party she is going to tonight. Ummmm, if you saw it, you would wonder what she is up to. She came home with a Nurse uniform. Ok so far, right? Let’s ignore the fact that she spent $50.00 on it (if you even can – I am having trouble with that part too). It is a short white dress (goes almost to her knees because she is a bit vertically challenged) and she has paired it with thigh-high white stockings that have little red cross signs on them. It is supposed to be a slutty nurse outfit, but luckily it is a bit longer on her than it would be on say – me. Either way, it was not the scary vampire-type uniform I was expecting. She may be taking it back today and getting something else. Can’t decide how important I think this is…trying to pick my battles.
Both of the girls now have their braces off. They have had them on for about a year – maybe two. They look so grown up without the braces – kind of makes me a bit sad. I hate to see signs of growing up and yet those same signs make me feel good. I am a bit odd that way.
Plans for the weekend:
- Run - we have to run 30 minutes today and 4 miles tomorrow.
- Watch Texas / Texas Tech game (Go Horns)
- Feed babies
- Take oldest daughter Halloween shopping with her friend
- Buy youngest daughter present to take to party and most likely shoes to go with slutty nurses outfit
- Feed babies
- Take pictures of youngest daughter and embarrass her as much as possible in her costume
- Feed babies
- Eat dinner out tonight – not sure where, but that is what is on the menu…would LOVE pizza but that is so not on the diet. Stupid diet.
- Take girls to guitar lessons tomorrow after picking up very tired daughter from friends house
- Laundry, laundry, laundry
- Oh – and lets not forget that I will need to feed babies
Two nights in a row of baby grumping. They have been waking up around midnight, 2am, 2:30, 3:00 and so on until I finally break down and feed them –today around 5. I should just feed them at midnight but then they will be up every three hours after that. I am trying to not start the habit of letting them get up all through the night, but what am I to do? They are HUNGRY. When I finally fed Roark at 5 he ate all 130cc’s and then ate an additional 30 before settling down. I have never seen him eat so much – poor little guy. He is usually food-averse. We put them to bed after they ate and then I went back to bed, and slept until – get ready – 10am. Holy shit! I missed three meetings and showed up late for the fourth. Although I was forgiven. As I joined the call I realized that I was losing my voice and everyone felt all sorry for me and sent me back to bed. So that is it for work today – thank GOD.
The girls are coming this weekend! Although my youngest already has plans for the whole time with other people. Halloween shopping tonight with girlfriends, and then a party tomorrow night at the amusement park for someone’s birthday. If I am lucky I will get a few hours with her Sunday evening… I could say NO and make her stay home, but that is what her dad does and then she doesn’t get to spend time with her friends. And – she would totally understand and not be mad. I like that about her… I remember being a teenager though and my friends were much more important than staying home with mom. I miss the girls being little – when I was the center of their universe.
There are times at work where I disagree with a request or a decision. When this happens I will do one of two things. I will either take a stand, or cave. How do I decide which way to go? I roll the dice. "Really?" you ask. NO. But – that is a good lead-in to explaining half of the idiots I work with…
I have shown myself capable of making decisions based on sound logical thinking most of the time. I try not to get too emotional in the heat of a disagreement, and base my decisions on logic. Although this proves difficult at times, I still keep focused on the goal – do what is right for my company, for this project, for my team. In that order.
There are serious things going on in my job this week. Many important decisions to be made. Many decisions requiring logical thought patterns in order to arrive at sound action plans. And there appears to be a severe lack of any freaking intelligence ANYWHERE. WTF? I would love to lay out the whole scenario here so that your jaw could drop and we could all look alike. I don’t think my employer would appreciate that. So – here is my attempt at explaining the latest fuckup in generic terms:
We have been asked by a potential client to jump through a hoop of fire in order to receive their business. We ask for the rules of engagement for such a jumping activity and upon reading them are astounded. We are told that 1) the hoop is actually not a hoop at all but a piece of rope that will collapse when burning 2) that we must be first soaked in gasoline and THEN jump through the “hoop” and 3) we have to actually PAY to do this activity - a LOT and 4) we are not expected to survive. Once this activity is complete we will all have ice cream and move on to contract negotiations.
So – my suggestion was this: Tell the client thanks, but no thanks. Do NOT participate in the hoop-jumping activity. Instead point out the (blatant) issues involved with such (an asinine) request and suggest we move right to the ice cream, followed by negations. Makes sense right? The sales team talked to the client yesterday. They discussed the idiocy of the request. The client then assured the salesperson that this was a worthy activity and asked us to please, please do it – and guess what? Oh yes…salesperson caved and is now singing the “let’s all jump through the hoop of fire” song today.
Holy shit....who would every do such a thing? I am seriously sick thinking about it.
There are times in a meeting, or in the heat of a conversation at home where I have a half-formed idea in my head and I make the mistake of speaking about it prior to it being a well thought out idea. I regret this EVERY TIME. I always end these “announcements” with something along the lines of “Did that make sense to you?” or “Do you see where I am coming from?” or even “So, ummmm, yeah.” I come off like a complete ass-hat and wish I had just kept my big mouth shut.
I had an ass-hat moment the other day in a meeting. With a customer. And dear god, why don’t people just tell me to shut the hell up? I seriously wish people would kick me under the table. I committed to shit nobody should. I was all “oh absolutely – that is a wonderful idea, and while we are at it – why don’t we tear down the city of Austin and simply rebuild it. Overnight” (or something equally as stupid). And as I looked around the room I totally wanted a take-back. Luckily, the folks in the room were not all that bright and gave me a quick dear-in-the-headlights look, nodded, and started talking about something else.
I am in my office today. It is FREEZING in here. 90 degrees outside and sub-zero in here. Makings of a cold? I think so. I believe the climate in here is inhibiting my ability to work…either that or the fact that I am extremely lazy. Thoughts?
My husband is considering a job in another state – far away. We are talking about moving. We were prepared to move to Austin around the first of the year, but based on this new information, it looks like I will be looking for a new job at another company in a state far, far away. We talked to the girls about this a while ago and they were OK with the move – they would still see us every other weekend as we would fly them out and back. However we would not see them during the week. I am guessing that if I were to ask my youngest daughter today what she thinks of this idea, she would begin crying and beg us to stay or take her with us. I know my oldest daughter would want to go if she didn’t have to upset her dad in doing so…
What am I to do? If we do start up custody battles it could mean the deterioration of the very fragile relationship that I have with their dad now. It could also lead to the girls not having much of a relationship with their father. Although, come to think of it – they are not all that fond of him these days. He works a lot and when he is home he is focused on his wife, and not the kids. They are not happy about their step-brothers most of the time and have a very ‘iffy’ relationship with their step-mom.
I would love to be able to reasonably talk to their dad and work out an arrangement where the girls can be wherever they want – or at least allow more time with me, since that is what they want right now. However I know that he will not be receptive to this. I think he is worried about losing the money that I pay him every month. He can keep the $1200.00 if I can just have the girls with me more. I would also pay for them to come see him every other weekend and arranged holidays…. But – I know that he is worried that the courts would not enforce my paying him and he would NEVER want to lose that money. Then his wife would have to get off her butt and get a job. What would she do if she couldn’t sit around all day staring at the pool boy and watching Dr. Phil?
What would you do?
Long hard day. Not a lot of work, but had to fly out of town for a two hour ass-kicking of a meeting and then fly home in time to 1) miss dinner and 2) feed babies and say goodnight to them, leaving no time to play with them. Hate these kind of days. I am now staring HOURS of work in the face wondering when I will get it done. Guess I will be up late. Should be working now instead of doing this – but this is so much more therapeutic.
I got a phone call from my youngest daughter today (who turned 14 yesterday!!!!). She was crying and upset because she doesn’t want to be over at her dad’s and wants to be here. Her story changes with the days of the week. The only thing we can count on with her is her changing her mind. Her dad blew up at her tonight and sent her into crying hysterics…and she hadn’t even told him about her bad grades yet. That won’t calm him down any. I really had no words of encouragement for her. I simply told her that she had to tell him about her grades. Period. And she did. And he got mad. Go figure.
My other daughter is learning to drive. Tonight was her first driving time with her driving class. We have been practicing at home for months, so it was not a big deal for her… I cannot believe she is freaking driving! Wow. Oh yeah, and if you live in Texas – let that be a warning.
Do you have those days when you reassess your life and wonder why you made the decisions you did? Do you ever think back on that First Love or First Kiss or the day you got your drivers license? Do you think about high school, or your first job? And when you think of these things, if you do at all, do you remember them and smile or do you cringe in disgust?
It is funny how I don’t feel the same about my past as I thought I would when it was the present. Let me clarify. When my first boyfriend and I broke up (a mere few weeks after we were together) I was sure I would think back on that time and be embarrassed and amazed at what an idiot I was. Now I wonder what has happened to him. I wonder why we didn’t date longer. Just the same I think back to that first job out of college and wonder what has happened to those people and wonder what I would have turned out like if I stayed there and not moved away and on to other things. At the time I swore I would never think about that place again – I couldn’t wait to get out! When do these changes take place? Does time erase the bad memories and we just end up looking for fragments of life to hold onto?
I read a lot of infertility journals. I feel connected to these people in some way. They share a glimpse of their sorrow and their lives with me and I feel privileged. I empathize deeply with these women, with their situations. I however, am not infertile. I have gone through IVF though, and this makes me feel as if I have a small (albeit insignificant) connection to them.
I have two teenage daughters from a marriage long, long ago. While their father and I have joint custody of them, I do not see them as often as I would like. For reasons that are difficult to explain in less than 5 bazillion words, they spend more time with their dad. When they are not with me I miss them so much that my bones hurt. They are my world. They make me smile, laugh out loud, re-assess my beliefs. Those girls give me hope and fill my life with more love and enjoyment than I ever imagined possible. My eyes tear and my toes curl just thinking of them at this moment. Does this mean that I don’t complain about them? Hell no. I complain a lot. Welcome to me. This is what I do – ask anyone that knows me. I am quite good at it too.
I don’t know why I wanted children all those years ago. I guess I wanted to be grown up. I think I wanted a family – something I never really had growing up. I wanted to be part of something bigger than just me. I wanted to be a positive influence in someone’s life. I wanted to show someone how much I could love them – and I didn’t want to be judged. I wanted to be a mom and I never imagined that my marriage would end and I would have to share that role with someone else. I never dreamed that I would miss ½ or more of my girls' lives…
I also have two 4-month-old little boys. The decision to have more children was not one that came easily to us. My husband and I wanted children together. We wanted to raise a family together – it was a way for us to become even closer than we were. It was the chance he was missing out on to raise babies. He has been a fantastic dad to the girls, and he really wanted the chance to be part of another person’s full life. I wanted him to have that chance. I wanted another chance to have the family I dreamed of as a little girl. I wanted children that I could be a full-time mom to – not just weekends and holidays.
I now have the family that I always wanted. I drown my children in hugs and kisses and sweet words every moment that I can. The process of having my boys was not an easy one. IVF / infertility / adoption – they are all difficult experiences. I was one of the lucky ones. I ended up with a second chance. I ended up with children. And I am grateful for every second that we have together as a family. And at the same time my heart breaks for the women out there that are still trying.
I think that I read many of the infertility journals because I know how hard it is to want something you have no control over. I like seeing the drive, the motivation, the emotion that these women display. I gather strength from their strength and I am reminded how lucky I am in my life. I don’t feel as if I have much to offer them in return…and I am certain that very few ever wander over here for a read. Mine is not the life that they want to read about right now. But I support them. I feel for them. I listen to them. I never offer advise or judge them. I don’t make evil comments about their choices or desires or decisions… it just doesn’t seem to be the best way to make someone feel good or to encourage them to continue their quest for a family. I understand their anger toward people that are easily able to have children. The anger isn’t exactly AT the people so much as the situation – but either way there is anger and hate and frustration - and it is very much understood.
All of this rambling amounts to a few small things:
- I love my children
- I am lucky to have them
- I wish that every single person in the world that wanted a baby could have one without going through infertility and all of the shit that is involved
- Comments in journals should be treated like comments in real life: If you don’t have anything nice to say, shut the fuck up.
I never thought much about the opinions of other people. Good or bad. I am a bit cocky that way. I have never felt the need to justify the children I have or how I had them. I have never thought I needed to articulate why I have kids, why I wanted them, or what I expect of them… but today I am faced with all of these things because I opened my mouth here http://oliviadrab.typepad.com/blog/2005/10/bring_out_your_.html
Now I am pissed off. And I have to work on an intelligent entry to explain why I have children and how I had them, and what I expect of them… and well, I just don’t have time for that right now.
Still 125.5 pounds. Although, our scale is off by 4 pounds which means I REALLY weigh 129.5 – yuck. I like the 125.5 MUCH better. And even that is depressing for me. I have a closet full of size 4 work clothes that I can’t freaking wear. See, I am not so much vain and think I need to be skinnier as I am cheap and think I don’t want to buy more clothes. I am putting off the work shopping as long as possible so that I don’t have to spend any more money on clothes. The problem with this is that my job occasionally requires that I wear a suit and well, I don’t have any in a size 8. I have one in a 6 that fits – must run big. I just don’t want to drop another $500.00 on clothing I will wear a few times… Yes I am petty. And yes I am cheap. Tell me something I don't know.
We did not bathe the boys Tuesday night because we jogged late and then they were tired. Wednesday we went out on a much needed date and they were asleep when we got home (thank God). Last night just didn't work out because:
The boys ate around 6. They ate (covered their bodies in) bananas and then gobbled down a bottle and were so freaking grumpy that we forced them to nap around 7. We both figured that they would be up to eat by 9, at which time they would have their bath and then eat. 9 rolled by and then 10. 11 came and went and there was no sign of life from their room so we turned out the lights and went to sleep. 15 minutes later, guess who wanted food? Neither of us was motivated to do the whole bath thing, so we fed them and put them back to bed. 3rd night with no bath – they STINK! Tonight, as soon as I get home from work, I am skipping the whole bathing thing and putting them in the washing machine…twice. But don't worry, I will give them an extra fluff cycle in the dryer. No - I am not kidding.
Husband and Cole are on the couch watching baseball. Cole is continuosly tipping over, as he is propped on a pillow.
Husband singing: Bye, bye Miss American Pie.
Husband: Drove my chevy to the levy, but the levy was dry...
Husband: What happened to the chevy?
Husband talking: What exactly is American Pie? Is it Apple? Blueberry? Kidney? Mincemeat? And why do they call it Miss? Must be a girl based on what that guy did to it in the movie…
Cole: garmphaaaaah (followed by a huge grin)
Gee - I hope he doesn't remember these conversations when he gets older.
I am now at 125.5 pounds. So there is progress. No carbs sucks bad, but I like fitting in clothes I didn't think I could.
I had a CT Scan this morning on my head. Lets hope they find a brain in there…and also that it is functioning. They were looking at my temporal lobe and sinuses. Ummm, yeah. So that sounds fun, no? Back to the doctor next Wednesday to see if there is damage to the mastoid bone or sinuses and see what in the hell he is going to do to make this freaking ear infection GO THE FUCK AWAY.
Babies are cute. It helps that my husband and I had a date last night and didn’t have to put them to bed. We left at 7:30 for a movie and were back home at 10:30, and they were sleeping well. Thank God! Movie was The History of Violence. It totally rocked. I LOVED, LOVED, LOVED it. I thought it was violent, sexual, and funny – all things I look for in a film. I highly recommend it. And, if you go and hate it, then you have no sense of humor.
Work is average. Projects are hot and heavy and taking most of my time, keeping goofing off to a bare minimum. I didn’t get to read much of anything online yesterday and see no break in work over the next few weeks. Work makes it hard to lazy.
Girls are doing OK. School is back in full swing after fall break – tests, homework, attitude. They are with their dad this weekend, which is too bad – but that will mean we have a quiet weekend planned. We did have some fantastic tickets to the Dallas Cowboys game, however we gave them to a friend. After discussing how far it was to drive, what a pain traffic would be, and the fact that it would be ALL FREAKING DAY away from the boys, we bowed out and decided not to go. A shame really – they were front row, 50 yard line tickets..with a parking pass. Damn we are lazy.
Day three of South Beach Diet – phase 1. Starting weight = 132 pounds. Goal = 112. 20 pounds to lose…and it feels far away, and yet close at the same time. I am not a fan of diets, but I need to get back to my pre-pregnancy size so that my clothes will fit. I keep trying not to buy new work clothes – they are expensive!
This morning found me at 127 ½ pounds…so that is progress if only a small amount. We started our marathon training October 1st, so that is helping too. Yesterday we were off, today we have to run 30 minutes. Should be easy, but with my ever-present ear infection it has really been difficult to run at all. Plus, my husband feels crummy today so I imagine it will be a motivation disaster when I get home…yippee.
Boys didn’t sleep well last night, which of course means that I didn’t sleep well either. I don’t know why they think it is fun to wake up at midnight and grump around till 3 when I break down and feed them. Then they grumped some more until I got them up at 6ish. Around 5 I turned off the monitor and figured they would survive for an hour while I got some much needed rest. When I got up they were crying and starving to death… I didn’t feel too sorry for them, although they were cute and quickly forgiven.
I am actually in the office today – big adjustment after working from home for so long. I really don’t have too much going on, but thought getting out of the house would help me do real work. Will let you know how that works out…but not counting on much.
The boys visited with the doctor last week for their 4 month check up and shots. Roark is now 11 pounds 5 ounces and Cole is 12 pounds 4 ounces. I thought they were bigger than that – however they are actually on the charts for 4 months old…which is surprising. They are both in the 5-10% for a typical 4 month old. We are all very pleased with this since they were 11 weeks early!
The few days following shots were a bit rocky, but not horrible. Cole has become increasingly fussy these days…although we don’t blame shots from last week any more. We think some of his brother has simply rubbed off on him. He has started sticking out his lower lip and doing this cute whimpering little cry that makes my heart melt. Amazing how sad he can look. Then he starts the heartbroken crying and I can’t ignore him for even a second – it is just so sad. He gets picked up EVERY TIME.
They are both smiling all of the time and love to laugh. They have only each rolled over once, never showing any interest in it since. They like to sit up and love it when we talk to them. They love lights – staring at them for what seems like an eternity. They love their music mobiles and like to watch the animals turn around and around. And, they put themselves to sleep…which is nice.
Speaking of sleep – we put them to bed on their stomach. With blankets. And a crib bumper. With a cloth diaper under their heads and pacifiers in their mouths. Take that SIDS! I am sure that child protection will simply haul us away at first sight of this – but this is what works for us. The boys sleep so much better on their stomachs – have been sleeping this way since they were born – even did so in the hospital. We tried having them sleep on their back, but they hated it. Pure hate, I tell you. The crib bumper is needed to keep them from flinging their limbs out of the crib – they are very crawly at night. The blankets are of course for warmth. And the diapers soak up all the spit up that Cole likes to throw their way. The paci’s are for sanity. Roark would NEVER go to sleep without his – Cole would just suck his thumb.
We decided that a paci was better than a thumb because when we think they should stop using them, we can take them away. I think that cutting off their thumbs would be frowned upon in most parts of the country, so we are going to steer away from that.
They are changing every day and definitely getting to be more interactive and more fun. I am so glad that the newborn stage is phasing out and we are on to more exciting times… those first few months were freaking hard!
The boys rolled over earlier this week. Can you believe it? A day apart too. I had just told my husband that I thought they would be rolling over soon and right then as we were looking at them, Roark flipped right over onto his back. Then, a day later, Cole did the same thing!
I will never again have a little girl in a blue jean skirt.
I was sitting in starbucks and there was a little girl sitting with her mom having a 'girls day out' sort of thing. They were drinking tea and sharing a cookie. The little girl was so cute...long hair, jean skirt, carrying a stuffed bear.
It made me secretly with one of my boys was a girl.
My husband and I have decided to start marathon training again. This time, instead of a full marathon, we plan to run a 1\2 marathon. We want to be able to train and race with the boys and the full marathon would just be too long for them - as would many of our long runs.
We have not chosen a race yet, but are planning on something in March. Maybe the one in Dallas - if we have not moved to Austin yet. We will decide as the date gets closer. For now, we just have to start running our training schedule. This excites me for many reasons. I will lose more weight faster than when I run sporadically, I will fell better - have more energy - and will be able to spend more time with my husband. All good things.
Our schedule has us off on Mondays, cross training on Tuesday and Thursday and doing long runs on Sunday, with light runs the other days. Soooo much easier than the merathon schedule we ran 2 years ago. And - our longest run will only be 14 miles!
I wonder how excited I will be about this schedule when we are in the heat of the training a few months down the road?
I visited with the infectious disease doctor last week. Not much to report. He has placed me on a borage of antibiotics including tetracycline, minocycline, rifoban, some inhaled drug, ear drops, and one other drug...a little drug coctail if you will. He also was very impressed with the severity of the infection in my ear. He said it would be a great learning tool for students because it was such a mess... How odd.
I am to see the ENT Monday and I don’t see Infection Man for 6 weeks. Hope the meds help.
I had a glimpse into what it will be like when our boys are two. I was at the airport waiting for my flight and there was a little boy of two with his mom. He looked like an older version of Roark - dark brown eyes, brown hair, same head-shape and ears...it was freaky! He was pushing his stroller around and kept trying to go down the ramp to his plane, but it wasn't time to board yet so his mom kept stopping him. He would look up at her with those amazing eyes and whine 'nooooo mommy' - it was really so funny. He just couldn't stand still - and was endless entertainment for me.
When it was finally time to board the plane and the little boy was allowed to go down the hall, he became scared and didn’t want to go - crying 'noooo mommy'. He did much of the same on the plane for a while and finally settled in his seat and began eating raisins - counting by one with each one that he ate 'one, one, one...' - I just couldn't take my eyes of of him and could not stop laughing.
It made me miss my boys so badly and I had only been away from home for the day!
It is 1980-something… I am in middle school. I am a class 1 geek.
I had chosen to take Audio Visual class for a semester because I had heard that there was nothing to do and I knew all the cool kids did it. It was a blast! Brian Fox and I would sit in the room full of TVs and projectors and we would watch General Hospital and talk about baseball and other people. And for an hour each day I was one of the cool kids. No - he didn’t talk to me outside of that, but it was ok. It felt better than nothing. I felt like I belonged just a little bit.
When I was younger, I spent a lot of time wanting more...more money, a better house, a nicer neighborhood, a dad at home, a mom that didn’t work, better clothes...i was just poor, shy, and not sure how to break out of my shell and be the person I wanted to be.
All these years later I am no longer shy. I don’t care that I don’t have a dad, I like my life. I am outgoing - even slightly obnoxious. I don’t take crap from anyone. I am quite successful in my job, and people tend to like me in spite of my smart-assiness. Money is not a primary focus for me, although maybe because I am no longer crazy-poor. I wonder how much of my upbringing has made me who I am today?
One of the hard lessons for me is learning that having kids is not about me. It is about them...
I am here to love the, nurture them, take care of them. I should not concern myself with how they feel about me...
I should do what is best for them and not spend so freaking much time worrying about if how they feel about me. For starters, they are babies - the don't feel much about anyone as long as they are changed and fed and rested...duh!
I was so concerned...about the boys liking me. About them loving my husband's mom more than me (she lives with us and watches them during the day when I am at work). I should be happy about this...this is GOOD for them. I should grow up and quit worrying about this stupid stupid stuff.
I am seventeen. A senior in high school. It is early May and it has just recently started feeling like summer is on the way. I feel the pull to the beach and simply cannot resist the temptation. After begging my mother non-stop for hours, throwing in some great guilt-tripping about how I never see her, we are on our way to lake michigan instead of school.
I still remember that day like it was yesteday. I remember listening to Corrie Hart's Boy in the Box tape on the way up to St. Joseph. I remember going to Lulu's boutique and finding my graduation outfit - and being so shocked that my mom was buying it for me. I remember going out to lunch and eventually baking in the sun. I drove home - a rare thing in and of itself - and fought sleep the whole way.
I remember wearing my sunburn like a badge. I couldn't have been happier. When I look back now it isn't about skipping school...it was about being with my mom. It was about us never looking at the time, never once the whole day thinking we had better things to do. We just drank up that time together. It was a perfect day.
I have tried to do this occassionally with my girls. I hope they remember these special times and like them as much as I did at their age....
Do you own “the perfect jeans”? Do you recall the horrific process of finding those perfect jeans? Do you remember going from store to store, trying on pants ranging in price from $20.00 to $160.00 – trying to see the freaking difference? Was your butt too big for that pair, or your legs too long? Did you wish to GOD that they didn’t make the rise so low that half of your middle hung over the waist-line? Did you start to absolutely HATE everything about your body as you stared at it under the terrible florescent lights in the too tiny dressing room. Were you certain that they were using circus glass and that there was no way you could possibly be so large? Did you then watch every person for the next two weeks wondering if you were fatter than them?
I have been looking for the perfect jeans for weeks. Weeks I tell you. Damn jeans. Damn body. Damn, damn, damn. I have tried expensive jeans, cheap jeans, long – short – cropped – faded – flared – boot legged… I have had every designers wares on my body and I have to tell you this: my body looks horrible in jeans. Period. Seriously – horrible. I thought that maybe I was trying the wrong styles, or wrong size, or wrong designer…however I am here to tell you that I have had on every pair of jeans in the DFW metroplex and they all suck ass. Unfortunately they don’t suck my ass – it is still as big as ever – and it looks bad in jeans. I hate my post-pregnancy body. Hate. It.
I did finally find a pair of Levis and a pair of Calvin Klein jeans that didn’t make me immediately hurl – and they are two sizes smaller than the ones I bought after having the babies. So I am in an 8, which makes me happy…but there is no muscle in my body – my hips are ginormous and my butt is bigger than Rhode Island. And it is all so flabby…soooo flabby. Lets all hail the flabby lower half of me! Yikes. And – do you want to know how much I spent on said jeans? $14.99 and $16.99 on clearance…GO ME!
My husband is out of town all week...he just left and I miss him already...and not just because it is hard being a single parent. I feel so lonely the moment he leaves. Every. Single. Time.
Our dogs were at their annual “well dog” checkup when we received a call from the vet. We were informed that our Lab had a bite wound under all of his enormous amounts of fir and that it would require surgery to open, drain, and fix it. Sounds a bit like what they did to my c-section, no? Our poor puppy came home with a tube sticking out of his side and about 5 stitches. Poor, poor puppy. Our weekend was full of hydrogen-peroxide-putting-on which required chasing the dog and cornering him. He spent most of his time hiding from us, and I really don’t blame him. They removed the tube today, and all he has now is a hole in his side surrounded by stitches. Apparently the wound will heal from the inside out and then he will be good to go. In the meantime, he is on pain medicine and antibiotics. MRSA-fighting antibiotics. Can you freaking believe it? MRSA can spread to pets…so they are treating him as if he has it in case he got it from me. Stupid MRSA.
Speaking of MRSA, I went BACK to the ear doctor this morning and there is no improvement in my ear. I have been referred to an infectious disease specialist which I will see later this week. My doctor said that he “felt the need to warn me that this could end in a hospital stay and potentially some time in the ICU” – which scared the daylights out of me. However, when the specialists office called back with my appointment time, they told my husband that they very seldom have to put anyone in the hospital…so I am hopeful that this will be no big deal and manageable from home. I have too much going on here – babies, teenagers, work – to deal with that.
Bath time has become a daily ritual for the boys are our house. It doesn’t take too long because my husband and I both participate – each of us responsible for a baby from dirty to clean. If you think it would be a nice, relaxing, fun time for the boys…you would be WRONG!
Sure – everything starts out ok. We get them undressed, wrap them in a towel, and put them in the already warm bath. We then wash them and get them squeaky clean. It is at this point – where they come out of the bath – that things start to rapidly decline.
Once Roark is taken out of the bath, he goes crazy. He balls up his little fists until his knuckles turn white. Then he pulls his little legs up to his body, and he lets out the most ear-piercing, glass-shattering scream. And he continues to scream while I “rub the lotion on its skin”, put on his diaper, put on his pajamas and hat, and wrap him up in a big ol’ blankie. He cries so hard that he begins the funny breathing – you know, the kind where the crying is so hard that breathing is difficult?
Cole gets upset after he is removed from the wonderfully warm water – but somehow his piddly little cries fail in comparison to his brother’s. He has such a soft, grunty cry…and it is really rather pathetic. Roarks will seriously wake the dead and therefore it can NEVER be ignored. Not for a second. Seriously – listen closely wherever you may be and you just might hear it…
I am at home today…I like it much better than the office. I have already played with the little minions several times. Cole’s latest trick is a riot – we take this doggy and act like it is attacking his face (no – not a real dog) and he grins and tries to bite it. Small amusement for most of you – huge step for us. He has a sense of humor. Yeah Cole! Signs that he may survive this family.
I decided to go into work today instead of working from home. I miss the boys and I miss home. The office has no personal touch, and it is too quiet here. The thing is, I don’t work with anyone in my area…I have an office and need to keep the door shut most of the day because my conference calls will bother the people in the cubby-holes if I don’t. So – I come in here to be by myself… strange to say the least. The good news is that in a week or so I am moving to another building and I will actually be with people I work with! Maybe they will ask me to come over and play. Yes – I am six.
I love running. It is normally a very cathartic experience for me…especially when my husband goes. We are able to talk about our day, our plans, our children, our troubles – we get to be together for a short time and deal with all that life has thrown our way. Normally.
We went running this morning, and it just wasn’t like it used to be. We loaded up the babies in the jogger, grabbed the dogs and headed out the door. He was wrestling dogs up ahead while I hung back a bit and pushed the jogger. This helped avoid the “Damnit shiner” and “Stop it, Zieggy” that would normally be heard in this scenario. We didn’t say more than two words to each other…and it seemed odd. It felt more like exercise than it has ever felt.
So much changes with babies. Most of the things are good. Our lives are richer. They are amazing little people and I love having them in our life. But I do miss some of the simple things that get put on hold, or that we have to change in order to accommodate our new life.
MRSA is an invasive and resilient pain in the ear for me. After my c-section in May I contracted an infection, which ended up being MRSA (antibiotic-resistant staph). A second surgery and an opened, draining wound were the outcome. That wound has long since healed, however the MRSA remains.
Last year I went through a series of ear infections which ended in me having tubes put in my ears. Everything has been pretty quiet in the ear area since then. Until over a month ago when I came down with an ear infection and a sore throat. A trip to the doctor and some antibiotics were supposed to fix the ear problems. However, thanks to the MRSA mentioned above, I still have a raging ear infection with a nice little hole in it that Just. Won’t. Get. Better. I am a little tired of feeling – well, tired. I have a constant headache, neck ache and ear ache. I am anxious to feel better. NOW!
My latest trip to the doctor – yesterday – amounted to a very small bit of humor. I have been to the ENT specialist twice now for this ear thing (since being pawned off by my regular doctor), and he is stumped. We have tried Bactrim (which I was allergic to – that was fun), and several ear drops. I am now on tetracycline and some other drops (actually for eyes, but they have me putting them in my ears) for the hell of it. The doctor has no faith that this will work and anticipates sending me to an infectious disease specialist next week… Why not send me now and get on with getting better? No idea.
The real issue here is that one of the boys also has MRSA. Is this what is in store for his first ear infection or cold? Will he face these issues when we try to get him better? What do we have to look forward to? And – does the other boy have it and we just don’t know yet? Only Cole was cultured in the hospital in addition to me – so we don’t know Roark’s status. What a mess. I had no idea Staph infections could be so horrible…in fact, I didn’t really know they existed. Wish I still didn’t know.
Do you ever read back a year ago, two years ago, five years ago in your journals and see where you were – how far you have come? Do you wonder if you have made ‘progress’ as a person? And – if you have not, do you wonder why? Or do you blindly exist and write and entertain without searching for purpose?
I am out of town for work. It is very very quiet here.
I found out last week that I was going to have to travel for a couple of days, and because I am a moron I decided that I couldn’t leave my babies and announced that I was taking them with me. Watch how the story unfolds…
My husband is also out of town for a few days, which means that I have been handling the boys at night for the past few nights. Nights that they DID NOT SLEEP. Guess who else DID NOT SLEEP? I am so freaking tired right now… Anyway, last night sucked ass. They were up and down, up and down…but mostly up. They decided not to eat on the same schedule and had me up almost all night with one or the other…or sometimes just to change it up – both.
So this morning as I was contemplating getting ready and packing all of their shit in the car, I lost it. Roark was crying, Cole was grunting. Roark wouldn’t eat, Cole wouldn’t sleep, and I had to leave soon. I unpacked everything of theirs that I had packed so far, called my husband, and told him that they would be there waiting for him with his mother when he returns tonight. Then I grabbed my stuff and headed out the door. Without my babies. And I cried most of the way to Austin.
I did stop crying for a little while when I got pulled over by the state-fucking-trooper because my inspection sticker expired a few months ago. Bastard. And I stopped crying long enough to drink my coffee… and well, as I sit in my very quiet hotel room right now, I am not crying. I am just listening to the silence wishing I could go to sleep right now and not wake up until tomorrow.
Two babies = $469,000.00
My husband was out of town last night. I was at home with two babies all night long…I am losing my mind just a little bit.
Last night was not exactly easy. It was full of staying up late, waking up much, feeding babies a lot, rocking little boys to sleep, begging little boys to please, please please sleep, and then a little more of all of the above, rounded out with getting up early to take the girls to school.
He is out of town tonight too. Yawn.
I know that you are just dying to hear what happened with Roark and his ever-loving non-stop crying. Right? Well – he is getting better…quieter, that is. Prevacid – NOT the answer. Nutramigen – THE answer! The poor boy was apparently allergic to milk. He has now been on the liquid gold for quite a few days and every day gets a little better…he eats a little more, cries a little less, and allows me to regain a bit of sanity. Good boy.
In other news, the boys are now able to use our super-cool B.O.B Duallie Jogger. I LOVE this jogger. Over a year ago we saw this at REI and fell in love with it…long before we were pregnant. We finally own it – after a second mortgage on the house, and it is oh so wonderful I am now motivated to go jogging…and GOD KNOWS I NEED TO DO SOMETHING OTHER THAN SIT IN THIS CHAIR AND READ. Sitting does not equal exercise…a darn shame if you ask me.
Well, I am down to a size 8 or 10 depending on the style / brand of pants / jeans. Considering I started at 14, I feel OK about this. I would LOVE to be a 4, because that is what I own so much of, but without regular exercise that isn’t going to happen. This fat ass won’t dissolve on it’s own…damn. Hate working hard…hate it. What I really want is a diet of chocolate, ice cream, coffee, bread and high carb foods that allows me to lose weight. That is what I really want. Also – I want cake.
My husband and I went to the bagel / coffee place over the weekend – one of the few surviving pre-baby activities that we now involve the boys in (and NO they don’t drink the coffee – they prefer Red Bull in their bottles). While we were sitting outside with the babies drinking our coffee and talking about our plans for the day, a man came up to us and started talking about his 10 month old twins. He told us their names, where they were born, how hard they are to take care of, what their sleep schedules are like, what they eat, how much they cost, who their pediatrician is, how hard they are to take care of, what development doctor they are seeing, what eye doctor their babies went to, how much time they spent in the hospital, how hard they are to take care of… seeing a pattern here? This man was WHIPPED. He was so beaten down by his two boys that he couldn’t see the sunshine in the sky.
When this guy left he handed my husband his phone number and told him to call him if he ever wanted to do something, because he was “always wanting to get out of the house”. My husband and I decided that this is truly one of the saddest men we have ever seen. He and his wife had struggled with infertility for over 5 years. They went through god-knows-what for years and ended up finally getting pregnant (after adopting a little girl no less) through IVF. They were blessed with twins, and now he complains all the time.
I certainly understand his challenges. I KNOW how hard it is to take care of two babies. But – this man works all day and his wife stays home and handles the babies. He sleeps all night and his wife handles the babies. The only time he has much “baby responsibility” is on the weekends and then he can’t hack it. This really makes me sad. Did he think it would be easier? Did he not really want kids? Is it just hard because there are two babies, or is it because they have a 4 year old too? Would he be the same if there was only one child in the family? Is he just lonely in general and maybe the kids are something to blame it all on? I wonder…
Later that evening when my husband and I were sitting in the living room holding our boys, we both announced how happy we are with our children, with our lives, with everything around us…and it felt good. We felt complete – a family. And we realized that no matter how hard this baby thing is, we wouldn’t have it any other way.
My friend has breast cancer. She is 35 and has twin babies a year old. How much does this suck? Yeah – I cannot even quantify it. That is not to say that she deserves it less than anyone else, but seriously – so young and new babies – bites ass if you ask me. Just a little reminder that we are all in harms way, all the time.
As I said yesterday, we have a cry-baby on our hands.
My husband and I took him to the doctor yesterday and we at least have a plan of action:
- Roark is now on Prevacid (possible reflux issues causing the crying, although he does not spit up). We are to use this for one week. If no improvement,
- Switch to Nutramagen formula and see a gastro-something-rather pediatric doctor for an upper GI-thingy.
Today Roark has been acting like a normal baby. We think that it is because we switched him to Nutramagen the other day. He was on it two days and now is better... however last night we switched him back to EnfaCare, and put him on the Prevacid. I sure do hope he doesn't start the screaming again - if so, I am putting him right back on that horribly expensive formula ($25.00 per 12.8 ounce can - compared to $12.00 for EnfaCare)...where he will remain until his 18th birthday!
Last night I went back to Walgreen's to pick up his prescription - which we had dropped off 2 1/2 hours earlier, and was assaulted with the pharmacist from HELL! They had not filled the order yet(oh, they were just too busy to fill it and to call to tell us, and in fact announced that insurance didn't cover Prevacid at all - so I would have to pay cash if I wanted it filled. Now couldn't they have told us that when we dropped it off and had to give them our insurance card (which they apparently didn't even enter any information from, because they wanted it AGAIN when I came back)? I wanted to KILL THEM...DIE! DIE! DIE! I pulled a typical me and bit the lady's head clean off, exposing the arteries. I then paid the $65.00 for the prescription and demanded they call the doctor and insurance company today and FIX THE FUCKING MESS THAT THEY HAD CREATED. I gave them until 6pm tonight. I am so mean.
So Roark has had two doses of the Prevacid, and my fingers are crossed that this works. I was told it could take 72 hours to show improvement, which right now feels like a lifetime...seriously. So much crying...
We did find out that Roark weighs 9 pounds 7 ounces and Cole weighed in at a hefty 10 pounds 13 ounces - porker (at least I think that was thier weights...shoot, my memory is going). I do know for sure that Cole is quite a bit fatter than Roark...and I blame the eating issues.
Raise your glasses and toast with me - "here is to NO MORE CRYING"
Roark cries. Non-stop. All the freaking time!!! I have to keep telling myself that he is only a baby and doesn’t know what is wrong – but MY GOD it is driving me MAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He won’t eat. He won’t sleep. He won’t stop crying. What is wrong???? He will actually eat about 30-40 cc’s and then starts into the high pitched wailing. He then refuses to eat another drop, and continues crying, bursting eardrums all around, until he falls asleep for a few minutes, only to wake and start again. This is especially fun when he has not had wet diapers the past couple of changes and I have to force feed him…wow he HATES that. He doesn’t fall asleep – he just screams and won’t suck on the nipple. And – this is great – if you push him too much….perhaps let milk drip down his throat while he is crying…he will power puke all over you and lose everything he has had so far. Back to square one.
Now - when I say he cries all the time, I mean ALL THE TIME. Not just an hour or two a day - if he is awake, he is screaming his little head off. Colic? Maybe...but what the hell is Colic anyway? I think it is a made up word for anything doctors cannot figure out - kind of like a virus.
I have to tell you - I get so frustrated with him. I don't know what is wrong - if anything even IS wrong. And I sure can't fix what I don't understand. So, I get mad. I don't talk mean to him...I don't hurt him, I don't do anything bad at all - I just get these horrible feelings of frustration and irritation and even just that makes me feel guilty. My husband said he feels the same way - but he talks even sweeter to him then, so he doesn't get tipped over the edge. We are both looming so close to the edge...so close. I admit I have whispered, in the very sweetest voice, that he is driving me CRAZY...and that I just can't take much more. I have begged him to stop crying...which of course did NOTHING. What kind of teenager will such a stubborn baby turn into???
Today, at 5:20 Roark (AKA Screams) has a dr. appointment. I have told them that he is broken and that I will not be taking him home with me until they fix him. That – or I want my money back.
Boys are sleeping. Texas game on T.V. Junk food for dinner.
What more could a person want?
Did I go jogging again today? You betcha!
Did I follow yesterday’s advise to myself? Hell no!
I went running this afternoon…at least I would like to call it that. In all actuality I barely jogged. And I would like to add that it SUCKED ASS!
Things to remember next time I drag my fat ass out “jogging”:
Change that god damned music on the MP3 player. If I have to hear Kid Rock’s “Cowboy” one more time, I will kill myself.
Take water. Seriously. It is freaking HOT in Texas right now.
Don’t run with a fever. Once the chills stop, the sweats kick in and it is a bitch.
Running sick will lead to the dry heaves – expect it.
If you have to go running, why not choose a different time than late afternoon when they are frying eggs on the sidewalk?
Stop eating so much junk and your ass will quit expanding and you won’t have to go jogging at all.
Don’t jog alone – it is much more fun when there is someone to complain to.
Last night we put the boys to bed at 9:00. They woke up to eat again at 3:thankyougod45. Amazing. Thank you boys.
And now – a list of items written to my son – Roark:
- Stop throwing up on me
- Stop screaming like a little girl in my good ear…it hurts
- Please drink your bottle without the ½ hour of screaming that you find necessary – it really doesn’t add to the ambiance during mealtime
- You get your diaper changed 8-10 times a day. Get used to it.
- Wipes cannot hurt you – you freak
- It is quite alright to fall asleep after eating without an hour long excursion into the world of insanity. Calm the fuck down and go to sleep.
- Stop waking up your brother
- Stop scratching me. And when I try to cut your fingernails because I am tired of scratching you, stop screaming like I am cutting off your fingers. They are fingernails. There are no nerve endings in them.
- Quit spitting out your pacifier when you really want it
- Do you know how cute you are? Especially after a bath when you smell so good and are wearing one of those hats that I love…
And a list of items written to my son – Cole:
- Stop spitting up. It is smelly.
- Stop waking up your brother.
- Grunting is NOT talking. It is grunting. And at 2 am it is annoying.
- Stop scratching me.
- The dogs bark all the time. ALL THE TIME! Please stop waking up when they do.
- You eat every three hours – not every hour-and-a-half. Pig.
- When you are full, please stop eating. Pig.
- The swing CAN be fun – give it a try.
- Poking your brother and sucking on his head when he is crying, although cute, doesn’t really help.
- Do you know how cute you are? Especially after a bath when you smell so good and are wearing one of those hats that I love…
The boys slept great, as is the usual routine now. To bed around 9:30-10, up at 2:30 to eat, asleep by 3:30 and sleeping until at least 6:30. It is pure bliss. Those 4-5 hours in the first part of the night keep me partially sane. This morning I tried to go back to sleep after they ate and didn’t have very much success. I could still hear them crying / grunting / giving their nanny a handful and found it difficult to tune out. Figures.
This afternoon, after Roark had pretty much spent the day crying – I took him. I was on conference calls but was feeling pretty sorry for him. He had been crying for hours off and on (which by the way I hear him doing now). So, I took him and fed him and got him to sleep. He then slept for a few hours and woke to eat again at 3. I just returned from an errand (3:45) and he is crying yet again. Poor boy. I don’t know why he sounds so unhappy – but I know that if I go get him, he will stop. I struggle with this – because Todd’s mom needs to figure out how to handle him, yet I hate hearing him unhappy. It is hard to butt out – which is why I really should stop working from home.
I have spent the better part of the day working my butt off on a project that I just found out is most likely to get CANCELLED. Damn it all to hell. This project has sucked enough time out of people’s lives for the past few months, and now there is no payoff. Stupid financials came in too high, so that is the price we may have to pay. Work sucks when this type of stuff happens…
I have been trying to get motivated to eat better again. I did two weeks on phase one of South Beach and then kind of let it go. I have lost some weight, but really have not been aggressive about it. I really want to fit into my pre-pregnancy clothes – and am totally determined NOT to buy any more big clothes…but fall is approaching and I have NOTHING to wear. That is unless I can squish my size 10 body into size 4 suites. Stupid fat.
So much work – so little time.
Hate work. Hate it.
Want to play all day – not work.
...could really use a nap too.
Months ago I was in the hospital, after my c-section, I aquired Methicillin-Resistant Staphylococcus Aureus - otherwise known as MRSA. MRSA is a type of staph infection that makes my body resistant to many antibiotics should I become sick. Guess what? I am sick. Last week I woke up with a wicked sore throat. It felt like someone had scraped all of the skin out of the left side, leaving it raw and sore. A few days later my left ear started hurting. Since then my ears and throat have been behaving very badly. I have leaky, nasty ears and a sore, sore, sore throat. Feel sorry for me.
I went to the doctor yesterday to get antibiotics to cure this crud that I am carrying, and because of the MRSA I was given Bactrim – the only antibiotic they can give me, which may not work. My other options? IV antibiotics. No thank you – very much. Here is to hoping this Bactrim works!
Roark and Cole had the BEST NIGHT EVER. They actually slept...oh thank GOD. We fed them at 9:00pm and then put them to bed. They then slept until 2:30am, ate again and slept until 6:30am. It was such a wonderful night. I was up at 5am checking on them – wondering why they were not screaming or grunting to get up…freaked me out to be honest. Then – this morning they were such good moods. It was fantastic. I didn’t have to struggle to change Roark. There was no hysterical screaming while we got the bottles ready. They simply hung out and stared at the animals hanging from their mobile. Amazing.
The boys are still not smiling…when will they start doing tricks? I am so very anxious for the first real smiles. Every day I try to get them to respond, and all they do is stare at me like: What the fuck you lookin’ at? I seriously think they already swear in their heads…they have to – I am their mother.
Did you ever think about what you would be “when you grow up” if you could do it again, pick again – now? I know when I was little I wanted so badly to be a doctor. However high school chemistry taught me a lesson or two and I decided that I would seek other career options. Somehow along the way I ended up being a business executive of sorts. I have not really had schooling to put me here – and I am not entirely sure I like it…but it is where I ended up through what felt like a natural progression over the years.
If money didn’t matter (yeah) and I could choose again – I might consider:
Detective / FBI – my daughter has been looking into this and WOW does it sound exciting…the CIA too.
Foreign Relations Person – work in an embassy in Russia or Japan
Travel writer – I would love to travel. And – well, write I suppose. But mostly travel.
Hot Air Ballooner – Is ballooner even a word? Wouldn’t that be fun? Heh – never been myself, but it sounds fun.
Tour Guide – not sure where, but somewhere / someplace fun.
I was quite disappointed to learn that Baby Sign Language is used around 2 years old and up. Do people know that babies can actually talk at this age? Why use the sign language when actual speech is an option? Am I missing something here? I am running through the scenerios in my mind and I just don’t get it. Either spend the day teaching the kid to talk or spend it teaching him to make shadow puppets on the wall…hmmm, whatever shall I do? Baffles me really.
Ever since the little restaurant incident last weekend, we have sworn off of taking them anywhere – ever again. Boy are they going to be disappointed when they get older and are not allowed to leave the house. Not ever. Not with me anyway.
Think Child Protection Services will object?
The boys are still not doing any tricks. They do lay around looking cute and all, however there isn’t much else to it. Every time I think they are smiling, it turns out they are not…gas, spitting up, or sleep immediately follows. I am anxious for some acknowledgement that they know who I am and that they don’t hate me. When will this EVER happen? Because they are premature –they are over three months old, but really they are developmentally 3 weeks old and basically do nothing but eat, sleep, and poop.
The excitement, it is lacking. Seriously.
I am working from home today.
Traditionally Working from Home meant that I was actually playing and no real work was going to get accomplished. It was FUN. Today – and every day from here on out in this new job of mine – I am working harder than I would have if I had hauled my ass into the office. What was I thinking? Where has the fun gone? Stupid work.
I am back to work. Full time. And oh my GAWD I am tired.
I have started a new job and am overwhelmed with the “I don’t know what the fuck I am doing” feeling we all get when we are new at something. I am also trying to balance the onslaught of emotion that comes with leaving my babies at home without me all day. This – is a recipe for emotions to fly.
It is hard for me to leave the boys with someone all day long – that same person who is there all evening and weekends too. They see their grandmother ALL. THE. TIME. They see me sometimes. How on earth are they ever going to love me more than her???? And – does that even matter? I struggle with this. A lot. I am a dork.
The boys don’t sleep all night – they wake up every 3 hours or so, which I like now that I don’t see them all day. What will I do when the DO sleep all night? I will NEVER see them. Feel sorry for me.
I love Sushi. I had it for lunch today with an old colleague and YUM! The tuna was amazing…and it wasn’t even Toro. The Yellowtail was ok. The Texas Tornado role (salmon, cream cheese, jalapeno, rice and “special sauce”) wasn’t spicy enough, but good. I just never get full when I eat that stuff.
Dinner tonight is going to be nothing – just like last night. By the time I got around to thinking about it, I didn’t have the energy to eat…so I didn’t.
My husband is gone until late tonight, so I am on my own with the boys…yeah! And also – ohdeargod where will I find the energy?
I am not too busy to write. I am not starved for content. I am simply lazy. It is that simple.
Soho Parent Protectors (Whiz Kid) – you have rescued me from many pee incidents.
Milacon – what a wonderful toot-reducer you have been, allowing for many tummy-ache-free afternoons. I love you so.
Bibs – you have saved many many clothes changing fiascos into simple bib-removal occasions and for that, I thank you. Without you, oh wonderful bib, my life would be full of babies with wet collars and little sleep (due to me jostling them awake after eating and falling peacefully asleep only to change them, causing spitting up on the newly applied garment anyway)
Carseat – for you go in the car. The place where screaming-until-mommy-wants-to-throw-it-out-the-window baby sits while falling asleep at 1:00am in the moving car. And thank god for that. Drop to your knees and thank God right now – because the car seat thingy that goes in the car has saved my sanity.
Baby Einstein Activity Gym (Tummy Time Mat) – you bring me such amusement watching my babies flail about on you. A+ for the entertainment factor.
Little Noses Saline Spray – without you my boys would be bugger-monsters without the ability to breathe. And although they appear to hate you, don’t let it rub you the wrong way…you are oh so good for them. Plus you keep me from being the mommy that picks her babies’ noses. Ewww I hate those kinds of mommies.
Huggies and Luvs - All disposable diapers are NOT the same. You guys suck. Luvs suck because they have no elastic around the waist and pinch when you sit baby up to burp. Ditto for Huggies. And why are all diaper brands not the same freaking size? It is like shoe shopping for adults…
Playtex Vent Air Bottles – Oh Playtex, could you have invented a bottle with any more pieces? And – why did you create a bottle that cannot be used in a bottle warmer? Playtex people have never tried to keep an infant quiet for 15 minutes while dinner warms in a bowl of hot water!
Wind-up crib mobiles –Each and every one of you should be ashamed. Even the cute ones. Hello carpel tunnel syndrome…and if I have to hear that goddamned Twinkle Twinkle Little Star one more time, I will be brought up on murder charges.
Nutramagen formula – oh dear god, what on earth are you made of – cow manure? You. Smell. Like. Shit. No kidding… and why are you freaking expensive. Cow manure is cheap – just check with Home Depot. About a buck a bag. Seriously.
Tylenol – why do you promise possibilities of causing sleepiness when all you appear to do is rev up our little ones? Tease.
“I have never seen you this happy”
“She was that happy when you were a baby…but now you are older”
(conversation between the girls yesterday)
This has been a bit of a horrible weekend.
Roark has decided that screaming bloody freaking murder at the drop of a hat is fun. He gets so worked up that he yells and cries and almost hyperventilates and no amount of soothing, holding, feeding, talking, leaving-alone will help him.
Last night was the kicker – I seriously wanted to throw him out the window. He just cried and cried and cried and would not stop. It is sad when he is like this – but there is nothing I can do. I finally just put him down and let him cry himself senseless while I fed his brother. He eventually passed out – thank GOD. He of course woke up several more times doing this. He was dry, fed, and not visibly injured. I tried holding him, rocking him, putting him in his swing, walking around with him, playing music, turning lights on, then off, TV, no TV, singing (that would make anyone cry) …so crying seemed my only option. And cry he did…the little fucker.
So we now have Reflux Baby and Screams His Bloody Head Off Baby. Nice. Somebody freaking save me.
What’s on my mind today:
Jogging, fatness, triple chocolate power bars, babies, spit-up on my shirt that I am not changing even though I can’t stand the smell, no shower in two days, bed-head, shampooing my carpet, what is for dinner? , margaritas, wine, do I drink too much? , laundry, weeding, fingernails need to be painted, why is that baby not sleeping? , and on and on and on.
My mind NEVER stops. Ever. Right now I should be showering, but I plan to go jogging at noon, so is it even worth it? I need to change these stinky clothes, but I am only going to put on stinkier jogging clothes, so why bother?
I have planned to shampoo the piano-room carpet for a week and have not even tried to get it done – lazy, lazy me.
I am trying to get caught up on email so when I go back to work I am not so far behind – but have not been all that motivated on that front either. I spend a lot of time reading online stuff and lose interest in the computer altogether.
I have managed to cook dinner a few times, and I keep up with the dishes. All of this is pretty easy given that my mother-in-law is doing a lot of the house work. Good thing too – or it wouldn’t get done. Luckily we had our house deep cleaned a few weeks ago (took 6 people 10 hours to complete it) and had the windows washed. This is helping me stay ahead of the dirt a bit…but at a huge cost. We won’t be getting that done more than once a year – it ended up being around $500.00 dollars with the windows…dear god, what an insane amount of money for cleaning I should be doing.
I am sitting in our library and I can hear the babies making cute baby noises, and I am having the hardest time trying to work and not go play with them. How am I ever going to adjust?
So the goals for today are:
Take a freaking shower for god’s sake
Avoid junk food (so hard to resist the chocolate)
Sit-ups and push-ups
Work at least 2 hours – a mountain of documents that need reading awaits me
Wonder if I will manage even half of that or if the above will all be on tomorrow’s list…
I am at the store earlier today when someone points out the spots on my left and right shoulders. I look down and realize that I am covered in spit-up and boogers. Nice. I have become THAT lady now – the one who doesn’t shave or brush her hair or change out of spit-up-on clothing before leaving the house. Good thing I am not breast feeding anymore or I may have turned into the grab-your-boob-and stick-the-kid-on-it-in-public mom too.
I really have turned into quite the lazy mother…that or I am now the “I only do it if it really matters” mom. There really isn’t time for much fluff in my life with two babies – even with help from my husband and mother-in-law. These two little guys seem to consume much of my day leaving me with little time for anything but eating and sleeping – which when I think about it, is fine with me.
I took the boys to work yesterday to see everyone and it was the strangest experience. I don’t know if you have been in a similar situation or not – but I venture to think that you may have. It was nice to see the few people that were available, but overall – I felt like I didn’t belong. It was odd. People were busy doing their work and other things and it was as if they were in some secret club that I am not a member of. It made me want to go back to work in a way, and never go back again all at the same time.
Today I started reading email and getting caught up for the first time since April. Wow a lot has happened at work since I left, and yet it feels like I have not been gone long at all. People at work say that it feels like I have been gone forever – to me it only feels like a few weeks. I wonder how it will feel when I really am back to work in 2 ½ weeks…
I am a mom. I have been for 15 years, and yet I feel like it is all new again…in a good way though. I look at my boys and I am in awe at how tiny they are. I watch every move as if I have never witnessed such a thing before. Was I too young to enjoy it before, or did I enjoy it only to have time wash those memories away? This makes me feel sad – as if I have lost part of the girls’ childhood over the years.
I have learned something over the past few weeks: Two babies are difficult to take care of. So far my greatest experience with the difficult part is when they both want something at the same time. Today I was feeding Cole when Roark woke up and wanted attention and food. And, he wanted it RIGHT NOW. What a challenge. I was feeding one in the bouncy chair while burping the other one – laughing at how silly it was the whole time. Today I was not too stressed, just amused for the most part. But – I have a glimpse of the nights to come when my husband goes back to work and I have to play the juggling games. At night. When I am tired. And less amused.
I am lucky to have help with the babies. My mother in law has moved in with us to be the nanny for the first year. She will take care of them during the day while my husband and I are working, which will be fantastic. The problem is that I don’t want to give them up so to speak…I want to do everything by myself and am having a hard time letting go of anything…I don’t want to lose a minute with them because I know how quickly they are growing up. Can you see me at work? I will be calling home 16 times a day, driving everyone nuts! Luckily I have 3 more weeks before I have to go into the office.
Both of the boys are HOME!
Cole finally joined us Saturday morning at home, and wow – it has been non-stop ever since. We are always feeding, changing, soothing or staring at them. And what is it like to have two babies? Well, Saturday night was pretty difficult because Cole wouldn’t sleep and therefore we couldn’t sleep. Who knew sleep played such an important part in our lives?
Observations about the past weekend with TWO babies:
- Cole is a very noisy baby – and I mean VERY NOISY. He is constantly grunting and spitting and moving
- Roark is a very calm baby. He is a quiet sleeper and needs to be woken up to eat – which by the way pisses him off.
- Cole inhales his bottle, and then promptly spits it back up – sometimes with a little power-puke.
- Roark savors his food – taking a freaking hour to eat. He must think he is an only child and we have nothing but time to dedicate to him.
- My husband is the best father I have ever seen.
- My girls love the babies in their own way – and are a great help.
- Two babies are more than twice as hard as one baby.
- Thank GOD we have time off of work to get used to this insane schedule.
- I suddenly feel as if two hours of uninterrupted sleep is a gift to be cherished.
- Babies smell really good right after a bath. Most other times they are stinky, but cute.
- I love this whole baby thing!
So Roark came home yesterday – and we are loving every minute of having him here. We are also struggling with one of our dogs because of the new arrival. He is so freaking interested in the baby that we are always battling with him to back the fuck off so we can spare Roark’s head one more lick-fest. Seriously – this dog is obsessed with the baby. We don’t know if Zieggy thinks that Roark is a toy, if he is being protective, or if he thinks he is a bunny and wants to eat him. We are not going to find out either. We keep pushing him away when he tries to lick the baby and tell him NO, but it appears to fall on deaf ears.
Our other dog is fine with everything – curious, but not obsessed. I don’t know why Zieggy is such a nut about it. Do you think the dingo wants to eat my baby?
Roark is home. They released him yesterday and we took him home and didn’t look back. Well – except that we still have a baby there – so I guess we are constantly looking back now that I think about it. That was hard – leaving Cole there. I really wanted them to come home together, but Cole is still having random heart decelerations – so he needs to stay.
Every few minutes either my husband or I look around and proudly announce: “We have a baby – HERE” Funny. I wonder when it will feel less surprising and more real... I wonder when Cole will join us? I do know that I am so happy to have this family and am excited about having us all together!