So, today has been weird... well, starting last night it got weird, I guess. Jackson and Evelyn wanted to go to sleep around 6:00 in the evening when usually we put them down between 7 and 8 (they can play for that hour but they go to bed when they get fussy or at 8, whichever comes first). They usually sleep until 7-8 the next morning. Last night, we held them off until 6:30 for bed and that was a struggle, and then they still slept until 7 or so today.
By 7:30, John and I were feeding them breakfast, and by 8 they were already acting sleepy. We held them off until 8:30 (they usually don't nap until 9-10 for the first nap of the day). Then, they were up around 10:15 or so and played until 11 when I fed them lunch. They took most of the contents of their bottles, and then Jackson had only 2 (willing) bites of food and Evelyn had about 4. Then the fussing escalated and they just wailed and moaned and cried no matter what I did... after trying another food choice, we moved onto the toys and then to physical play, but nothing seemed to help much, especially with Jackson the Tyrant.
By 11:45 they were rubbing their eyes and Evelyn grabbed a blanket and started sucking her thumb. By 12:15 I put them back down (usually afternoon nap doesn't start until 1:15 or so) and they were out in 5 minutes.
Meanwhile, when it comes to ME, the following statements are true: my hair is falling out and is noticeably thinner than it was prior to having kids which freaks me out (not to mention creates styling issues), I have started taking 2 prenatal vitamins to try to make up for whatever nutrients I am already lacking while trying to share with the twins via breast milk, my skin goes from dry to normal to oily by the week, so I have breakouts AND actual chapped, dry skin on my face at all times, and I answered 'yes' to nearly every question in an online questionnaire designed to determine if a person should talk to a physician about general anxiety disorder. It just keeps getting better!
Ok. Well, that's the news... I'm off to shower I guess. We'll see how the twins act tonight; I'm wondering if the top teeth are about to come in and maybe they aren't sleeping as deeply as they could during night and so they are wanting to nap more during the day, but who can say? Typical mom; I am worried they are sleeping too much and freaking out as to why that could be. I know that a grandma or a dad would say, 'if they're tired, let them sleep!', and so I will do just that.
Now, what to do about my skin and hair?
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
been shopping
My husband's 20 year high school class reunion is coming up in October and I just bought this dress to wear to the dinner from anthropologie. I also went nuts and bought a bunch of casual stuff for cheap at forever 21. Hope '21' isn't the age limit for wearing their clothing because if so, I am setting myself up for a major fashion faux pas this fall.
Monday, August 20, 2007
back to school
Today, my husband John returned to work. He is a professor at a college, and today is the first day back for the students enrolled in fall semester. As I am prone to do, when he goes back after a break, knowing full well how much of the parenting he shoulders right alongside me, I begin to wonder if I can handle the twins alone today.
Jackson and Evelyn are sleeping still, and through the monitor beside me I can hear the faint strains of the lullaby CD we have played on repeat for them every night since they stopped sharing a crib with each other and a bedroom with us. But I don't hear them. Any minute now, that will change, but for right now, it's just me, my thoughts and my coffee... and the monitor.
I feel vaguely lonely. John's cat CC is asleep on the couch nearby, and it is times like this one that make me acutely aware that my cat, Stella, is gone. I miss her terribly (it has only been 2 months since her death), and I have a pain in my heart that comes and goes whenever she pops into my head -- usually in the late night or early morning hours like now. Times when I could tell you exactly what she would be doing if she were still here. Stella would have been rubbing all over my legs and eventually coming to rest very close to me, but slightly angled toward the doorway, as if to guard me from anyone who may enter to steal me from her. She was possessive of me in that way and I loved it. For years, I loved it.
But see, there's the problem. Stella couldn't share me with the twins. Their very arrival made her sick. We brought them home at Christmastime, and both cats acted up in varying degrees for almost 3 months, but CC eventually got back to normal. Stella got worse. She started pulling out her hair and leaving it in clumps on the floor. She got clingier and clingier and more and more nervous and cranky. She vomited a lot. The vet couldn't find anything wrong with her and she just got worse. My living room floor looked like that of a pet grooming station... fur 'clippings' everywhere, and the twins were starting to spend more time on the floor by then and I had almost no time for the amount of vacuuming I would have had to do to keep up with Stella's [presumed] OCD. That cat would stay up late with me while I pumped and just tear clumps of hair out the whole time. She'd come to bed with me, and in the morning, I'd find that she'd removed even more hair while I was sleeping, and the bed would be covered in soft, wet clumps of downy, blonde, angora-like hair.
After much agonizing over what to do, I decided I had to have her put to sleep and I will never forgive myself. She was my friend and had been for so many years -- long before I met my husband and so long before I even dreamed of kids. But I knew she was not happy and the behavioral problems she had would have made her impossible to place into a new home. Plus, I'd wonder endlessly if she were being treated properly and I just couldn't imagine the alternative. I thought she'd live out her days by my side, and I loved her for that predictable loyalty. But motherhood changes a person and all I could think about was my babies crawling around on the floor amidst the choking hazard of Stella's hair, and I was angry at her for it. And I knew she was getting worse. She was not an animal that you could medicate (I'd tried in the past with drugs to calm her, long before she got to the stage where she was), or I would have considered anti-depressants for her (and no, I'm not a crazy cat lady). I would have done almost anything for her... but I had to put my kids first and I could see that in the 6 months since their arrival, Stella had gotten worse and life was just continuing to move forward at the same pace as always. I couldn't see a future when I'd have more spare time again to cater to her the way I did pre-twins. So much time was needed to 'fix' her. It was time I didn't have already -- no time for me, my husband, my laundry... but I couldn't sit back and watch her suffer.
I will always miss her in the mornings and the late nights the most. Those quiet hours of the day when I am alone and life seems to be closest to the way it 'used to be'. In those hours, I have a taste of life before Jackson and Evelyn came into it... just the tiniest taste. All around still are the reminders of what I will do for them, what I have done for them, and how far I will go to be as good at parenting them as I can be. The sacrifices I will make (and have made) that they won't ever know about. It is funny how loss can be so loud when a house is so quiet. How noticeable the absence of something can be in the silence...
...speaking of unbearable silence, are those kids awake yet?
Jackson and Evelyn are sleeping still, and through the monitor beside me I can hear the faint strains of the lullaby CD we have played on repeat for them every night since they stopped sharing a crib with each other and a bedroom with us. But I don't hear them. Any minute now, that will change, but for right now, it's just me, my thoughts and my coffee... and the monitor.
I feel vaguely lonely. John's cat CC is asleep on the couch nearby, and it is times like this one that make me acutely aware that my cat, Stella, is gone. I miss her terribly (it has only been 2 months since her death), and I have a pain in my heart that comes and goes whenever she pops into my head -- usually in the late night or early morning hours like now. Times when I could tell you exactly what she would be doing if she were still here. Stella would have been rubbing all over my legs and eventually coming to rest very close to me, but slightly angled toward the doorway, as if to guard me from anyone who may enter to steal me from her. She was possessive of me in that way and I loved it. For years, I loved it.
But see, there's the problem. Stella couldn't share me with the twins. Their very arrival made her sick. We brought them home at Christmastime, and both cats acted up in varying degrees for almost 3 months, but CC eventually got back to normal. Stella got worse. She started pulling out her hair and leaving it in clumps on the floor. She got clingier and clingier and more and more nervous and cranky. She vomited a lot. The vet couldn't find anything wrong with her and she just got worse. My living room floor looked like that of a pet grooming station... fur 'clippings' everywhere, and the twins were starting to spend more time on the floor by then and I had almost no time for the amount of vacuuming I would have had to do to keep up with Stella's [presumed] OCD. That cat would stay up late with me while I pumped and just tear clumps of hair out the whole time. She'd come to bed with me, and in the morning, I'd find that she'd removed even more hair while I was sleeping, and the bed would be covered in soft, wet clumps of downy, blonde, angora-like hair.
After much agonizing over what to do, I decided I had to have her put to sleep and I will never forgive myself. She was my friend and had been for so many years -- long before I met my husband and so long before I even dreamed of kids. But I knew she was not happy and the behavioral problems she had would have made her impossible to place into a new home. Plus, I'd wonder endlessly if she were being treated properly and I just couldn't imagine the alternative. I thought she'd live out her days by my side, and I loved her for that predictable loyalty. But motherhood changes a person and all I could think about was my babies crawling around on the floor amidst the choking hazard of Stella's hair, and I was angry at her for it. And I knew she was getting worse. She was not an animal that you could medicate (I'd tried in the past with drugs to calm her, long before she got to the stage where she was), or I would have considered anti-depressants for her (and no, I'm not a crazy cat lady). I would have done almost anything for her... but I had to put my kids first and I could see that in the 6 months since their arrival, Stella had gotten worse and life was just continuing to move forward at the same pace as always. I couldn't see a future when I'd have more spare time again to cater to her the way I did pre-twins. So much time was needed to 'fix' her. It was time I didn't have already -- no time for me, my husband, my laundry... but I couldn't sit back and watch her suffer.
I will always miss her in the mornings and the late nights the most. Those quiet hours of the day when I am alone and life seems to be closest to the way it 'used to be'. In those hours, I have a taste of life before Jackson and Evelyn came into it... just the tiniest taste. All around still are the reminders of what I will do for them, what I have done for them, and how far I will go to be as good at parenting them as I can be. The sacrifices I will make (and have made) that they won't ever know about. It is funny how loss can be so loud when a house is so quiet. How noticeable the absence of something can be in the silence...
...speaking of unbearable silence, are those kids awake yet?
Saturday, August 18, 2007
glad everybody gets along
One of my aunts got me involved in one of those websites where everyone sets up a page about themselves and 'invites' others to see it and comment on it, then allowing the original person to do the same for their page. I was curious, and, having once been a computer-phobe, I occasionally challenge myself try things just to see what can be done. So I bit.
Oh, it was fun for a while; once you have your own page, a person can spend hours typing in names of everyone from her first babysitter to former clients' teenaged children to see who also is available on the site. I invited a few people to join me whom I found in this way and even though I don't see how this way of keeping in touch is any 'easier' than regular e-mailing or those things called phones that no one uses anymore, it seemed to be sort of fun. A little egocentric, but fun.
Now what has happened is that all of my 'friends' have gotten in touch with each other, and because of the way this fun-fest is set up, I get to see it all play out. I get to watch as my friends, even as they don't seem to have time to post anything on MY page, have all kinds of energy to write each other. Day to day, I find new little barbs they send each other and the invitations for drinks in the city. Barbs no longer fit for me (because what's funny about a person 'suddenly' becoming a stay-at-home mom of twins in small-town Midwest with no family closer than 3.5 hours away?) and invitations I cannot accept even should they be extended (see aforementioned reasons), but it is all still injurious to my ego nonetheless.
When we first found out we were having twins (at our first prenatal visit last summer), I started getting information in the mail about joining twin groups for parents of mulitples. It sounded like something I may try, not because I have ever been a group-joining gal, but because I could foresee that my friends would likely drop like flies, even before my abdominal stitches from my c-section were in place. But I didn't join... who had time? Those first 3 months of parenthood were like absolute hell. I didn't get to shower. I didn't get to eat. I had to choose between peeing or sleeping for 5 minutes because it seemed that (even though everyone says newborns are the easiest because they supposedly sleep 'all the time'!) , my babies were never asleep at the same time.
And now we are entering the 8th month of parenthood, have a tiny bit more time to myself (albeit usually at weird hours) and my friends all love each other.
Awesome.
Oh, it was fun for a while; once you have your own page, a person can spend hours typing in names of everyone from her first babysitter to former clients' teenaged children to see who also is available on the site. I invited a few people to join me whom I found in this way and even though I don't see how this way of keeping in touch is any 'easier' than regular e-mailing or those things called phones that no one uses anymore, it seemed to be sort of fun. A little egocentric, but fun.
Now what has happened is that all of my 'friends' have gotten in touch with each other, and because of the way this fun-fest is set up, I get to see it all play out. I get to watch as my friends, even as they don't seem to have time to post anything on MY page, have all kinds of energy to write each other. Day to day, I find new little barbs they send each other and the invitations for drinks in the city. Barbs no longer fit for me (because what's funny about a person 'suddenly' becoming a stay-at-home mom of twins in small-town Midwest with no family closer than 3.5 hours away?) and invitations I cannot accept even should they be extended (see aforementioned reasons), but it is all still injurious to my ego nonetheless.
When we first found out we were having twins (at our first prenatal visit last summer), I started getting information in the mail about joining twin groups for parents of mulitples. It sounded like something I may try, not because I have ever been a group-joining gal, but because I could foresee that my friends would likely drop like flies, even before my abdominal stitches from my c-section were in place. But I didn't join... who had time? Those first 3 months of parenthood were like absolute hell. I didn't get to shower. I didn't get to eat. I had to choose between peeing or sleeping for 5 minutes because it seemed that (even though everyone says newborns are the easiest because they supposedly sleep 'all the time'!) , my babies were never asleep at the same time.
And now we are entering the 8th month of parenthood, have a tiny bit more time to myself (albeit usually at weird hours) and my friends all love each other.
Awesome.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
and so it begins
Here I am at my computer, late at night, typing out my thoughts while my husband and infant twins sleep. I am awake, and will remain so, until I can pump (by 'pump', I mean breast milk... yep; it's one of those blogs, so stop reading now if you are squeamish) once more before going to bed for a few hours... only to awaken and do it once again prior to the rest of the household waking in the morning.
Recently, my husband spent 70 minutes on the phone with a friend of his to whom he doesn't get to speak often. I was happy for him to have some socialization outside of our babies, but it startled me when I couldn't remember the last time we talked on the phone for that long.
And then it depressed me when I figured we probably don't talk that much in a whole day added up anymore (and by 'anymore', I mean -- now that we have twins).
I am thankful every day we have a strong marriage and a solid attraction to one another, because without that, the infrequent showering and sleep-deprivation which come with new-parenthood could make a couple very unappealing to each other. Our biggest issue lately (besides having absolutely no time as a couple who could pretend they don't have kids) is that breast feeding has gotten me too skinny. (Yeah, I know... cry me a river, right? But trust me, this ain't cute). After many comments on my weight from my loving partner, I let him know that I can't stand to hear another word about it and that all will be back to normal when I am no longer a functioning liquid buffet.
What I can't seem to put a stop to is the other people who make their own comments about my size. Some people say their piece and then add, 'well, that's why she's so thin; two babies!', but others feel they have to give advice. Stuff I must appear to not already know, (even though I was obviously able to figure out how to become pregnant) like, 'you know you have to make sure you eat'. I can't imagine how these same people refrain from offering to 'help' those who may carry a few extra pounds. How tough it must be to hold one's tongue and not say, 'you are really eating too much'. Could be very helpful; maybe people aren't aware of that.
Lately I have been feeling pretty invisible around here, though I am keenly aware that I am necessary. My husband can do everything I do with the babies and does the whole morning routine on his own while I sleep in a little (waking in the middle of the night to pump really disrupts a restful sleep). Sure, I make the 'food', but aside from making those deposits into the fridge, I go pretty unnoticed.
Because of this feeling, I have made it my mission to rediscover myself over the next few months and try to find myself again. Granted, now isn't the time to dig up my old goth clothes or start running around going to bars like in my 20's, but I really miss the girl I was before the babies came. Don't get me wrong; I love those two monkeys like nothing ever before, but I still haven't figured out who I am now that I am their mother.
Recently, my husband spent 70 minutes on the phone with a friend of his to whom he doesn't get to speak often. I was happy for him to have some socialization outside of our babies, but it startled me when I couldn't remember the last time we talked on the phone for that long.
And then it depressed me when I figured we probably don't talk that much in a whole day added up anymore (and by 'anymore', I mean -- now that we have twins).
I am thankful every day we have a strong marriage and a solid attraction to one another, because without that, the infrequent showering and sleep-deprivation which come with new-parenthood could make a couple very unappealing to each other. Our biggest issue lately (besides having absolutely no time as a couple who could pretend they don't have kids) is that breast feeding has gotten me too skinny. (Yeah, I know... cry me a river, right? But trust me, this ain't cute). After many comments on my weight from my loving partner, I let him know that I can't stand to hear another word about it and that all will be back to normal when I am no longer a functioning liquid buffet.
What I can't seem to put a stop to is the other people who make their own comments about my size. Some people say their piece and then add, 'well, that's why she's so thin; two babies!', but others feel they have to give advice. Stuff I must appear to not already know, (even though I was obviously able to figure out how to become pregnant) like, 'you know you have to make sure you eat'. I can't imagine how these same people refrain from offering to 'help' those who may carry a few extra pounds. How tough it must be to hold one's tongue and not say, 'you are really eating too much'. Could be very helpful; maybe people aren't aware of that.
Lately I have been feeling pretty invisible around here, though I am keenly aware that I am necessary. My husband can do everything I do with the babies and does the whole morning routine on his own while I sleep in a little (waking in the middle of the night to pump really disrupts a restful sleep). Sure, I make the 'food', but aside from making those deposits into the fridge, I go pretty unnoticed.
Because of this feeling, I have made it my mission to rediscover myself over the next few months and try to find myself again. Granted, now isn't the time to dig up my old goth clothes or start running around going to bars like in my 20's, but I really miss the girl I was before the babies came. Don't get me wrong; I love those two monkeys like nothing ever before, but I still haven't figured out who I am now that I am their mother.
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