I Asked For It.

Life is a dream. I know you think I am only saying that because I am so sleep deprived that I walk around in a sleepless stupor every day, but truly, it is. Even when I went shopping yesterday (one of my last guilty pleasures, since C will be the doing shopping now), and the woman checking me out looked at my uncomfortable 46 inch circumference and said, "I'm sorry," I thought, I wanted this. I asked for it. It's my dream come true to be expecting A BABY, let along TWO!

This morning after a sleepless night during which I tearfully read the NICU chapter in my multiples baby book, I stumbled out of bed at 10 AM into the loving arms of my husband who told me how beautiful I looked. I finally made it into the shower and looked down to find a pristine bathtub scrubbed pumice stone to porcelain by my prince charming and that terrible ring around the drain that I firmly believed was permanent was GONE. I almost cried with joy and couldn't thank him enough for my clean tub AND my clean toilets! Alas, with the water softener, we won't have hard-water battles ahead of us, but six years of mineral water damage takes a little time to resolve.

I sat in church next to my hubby who gently rubbed my belly where little Cricket's head and bum are located. They respond to gentle touches and seem to like music also. Peanut kicked excitedly during some of the music. No, not making this up. Studies show that at this stage babies do respond to music and to light changes from natural light to artificial light.

This is my happily ever after, sure to be filled with tears and aches and pains and even heartache, but what fairy tale is free from those things? The wait has been worthwhile. The discomfort is priceless. Even the scars from giving birth will be tokens of the miracles with which we have been blessed. Every moment of this journey is splendid and magnificent, stretching my foggy pregnant mind in ways that I never thought possible. Here's to gratitude for the journey, no matter the outcome, no matter the struggles that lie ahead. Here's to my personal glorious storybook tale with prince charming and two wonderful little maidens on the way.

Busted!

Penny likes to bully Kawi. It's a conure thing, I'm pretty sure. She is very sweet, cuddly, and very bossy and territorial. One day I found Kawi in the garbage can because Penny wanted his stand. Despite his attempts to ward her off, she continues to win the battle for Kawi's bathroom stand unless we intervene. Here is a video of her getting caught in the act of invasion:

Conversations

At Walmart while picking up taco shells for dinner tonight:

Woman in line behind me, cold turkey: Do you mind if I ask you when you are expecting?

Me to myself: If I say December, she may drop over dead.
Me to woman in line: Uh, I have twins, so, not until December.

Woman in line: Oooohhhh... I was going to say, either she's buying her last meal before she delivers or...

Me: Yeah, people used to look at my cute little belly, but now they just look worried when they see me.

Woman in line and cashier and others in line, laughing. As I walk off they all talk about how huge I am. Really, but it's nothing to get your feelings hurt over, it's just the truth.

Tonight, while getting ready for bed:

Me: So, help me understand what happened last night with the toilet paper...

C: Well, I meant to replace it, but then I just got busy and forgot. I didn't mean to...

Me: I know, that's why I thought I'd ask when I was calm and didn't feel like killing anyone.

Flashback to last night: Me, making my usual nightly bathroom run. No TP. Not even a square. Not even a cardboard roll. Me, marching through the bedroom, exclaiming to my very asleep husband at 3AM, "When the TP is OUT, you REPLACE it!" 

Bear in mind that this is after four very sleepless nights and much sleep deprivation. C puts dates on the air filters, oil filters, and water filters in the house and changes them right on time. This is a very considerate man who does not leave something undone because he's being lazy, but logic like that doesn't kick in for a paperless pregnant woman at 3AM.

C is running a 5K this weekend. Not running IN a 5K, but he's in charge of it. Organizing it. I helped out a wee bit and purchased a couple of items for him on my Walmart shuffle. It's fun to see him getting the route and supplies ready and I think he's enjoying it as well.

Well, it looks like we are getting our baby-friendly car tomorrow. One more item out of the way. Our bathroom remodel has been delayed due to a window mix-up. It won't arrive until next week, which sets us back a bit, but C will have time to tear out part of our fence to make room for the new shed, so it should work out okay. Everything seems to be moving so quickly around me these days, and I just move slower and slower.

My Little Kicker

I just might have one of these inside of me:


Remember Cricket? If you don't, this is her latest portrait, in which she was rather wiggley, so it didn't come out especially clean:


It was better than her sister Peanut, who we couldn't get a shot of at all. She was cuddled up behind Cricket, and right after the photo, Cricket turned around to cuddle Peanut as well.

If there is one thing I have learned about Cricket, it's that she loves to kick. Every time we visit a nurse I warn them, "As soon as you put monitors on her, she'll kick them." They smile and nod, and then for the next five minutes all you can hear is Cricket kicking the monitor.

"You weren't kidding!" They say. That's my little kicker. Sometimes if I get my laptop too close to her while working, she kicks it too. I guess when you have limited space, you are willing to fight for what you have. No wonder Peanut is curled up at the very bottom of my uterus - I am not sure she had an option. At least they are in separate placentas, or who knows what we'd have.

For those interested in the latest belly shot, measuring 45" in circumference, here she is, although C claims that it doesn't do justice to just how big my belly is:


Finally, I think our newest hobby is spending money, only not on anything fun. We have most of the baby items, but now we are buying exciting items like new door handles, a water softener, a shed to make more space inside of the house, and remodeling supplies for the bathroom. Two days ago C sold his little Jetta, and we are getting close to nailing down our new-to-us baby vehicle. We found a car that is two years old, but only has 18K miles and is still under warranty. C's requirement is AWD for safety, and mine is V6 for gumption. The previous owner drove it just to work and back, so we feel lucky to have found something with minimal wear. While it isn't much for bling, it should be a reliable vehicle for years to come.

No Sugar for Cain

Dear Mr. Cain,

I appreciate your enthusiastic approach to solving financial problems for the nation, however, let me say that it seems troubling that part of your solution involves tacking almost 10% tax on food. It seems unwise in my opinion to exacerbate the issue of poverty (an issue you should understand, given your childhood circumstances) by adding malnutrition to the mix. We already have enough people struggling to buy food for their families without inflating food taxes.

On that note, may I recommend a different financial adviser than a small-town Ohio banker to help solve the nation's debt problems? Were he a bit more experienced on these matters, he might have pointed out that low-income families would experience a tax increase of almost 85%, while most of us would see a 10% increase in taxes on average...except for the wealthy, that is. They'd be getting a pretty good deal with this plan. You are a mathematician, sir. Certainly you have to take these things into account.

While it doesn't take a rocket scientist to run this nation (which I respectfully recognize you have been), it does take a bit more thought than what seems to have been invested in your pre-presidential fiscal plans.

Best Regards,
A.

Once Upon a Spoonful of Brewer's Yeast

This video hit disturbingly close to home.

Grandma was a nurse. When we visited her, she felt it was her sworn duty to detox us from the white bread and sugar we often ate at home. Do you know what happens when you feed a kid whole wheat when they are used to white? One word: fiber.

She had a glass blender on her counter in which she tossed ingredients like dandelion greens to make green smoothies. I remember her admiring a huge dandelion on a neighbor's lawn and asking for an instrument to dig it out of the ground so she could take it home.

Whenever we were grumpy or tired, she offered us applesauce, but it always tasted funny (due to the vitamin C tablets she crushed up in each dish). Her soybean (the primary ingredient in tofu) cheesecake often went untouched at family events, and candy or sugar of any kind was forbidden inside of the walls of her home.

Brewer's yeast was called "happy juice" in my home, because it made kids happy, er, at least those who would drink it. Yep, I was the kid who ate all of the healthy food and liked it. For those who don't know, Brewer's yeast is the primary ingredient in B Vitamin complex. I don't know about it removing warts like this video claims, but it often made you break out when you started taking it, and if you kept taking it, it kept your complexion clear.

Some of that healthy-stuff rubbed off on my dad. We had a capsule maker at home, and these were often filled with Barley Green, Bee Pollen, Golden Seal, or some other cure-all of the week. The handful of pills plunked down on the table in the video above was not an unlikely site, although we always maintained our own will on the matter.

I personally never got into the pill-ordeal, as exciting as it might seem, except to help fill capsules for my dad, and nobody in my family got into the bubble mushroom tea, although a woman I lived with did. That was just weird.  These days it's essential oils, which I still don't subscribe to, but to each their own. That's what makes this a free country, with liberty to follow health fads for all!

Of Diaper Cakes and Dimpled Feet

You know how after a long, hard day at work, you can't wait to take off some uncomfortable clothing item like shoes, or nylons, or other three-letter unmentionables? Yesterday I had the odd sensation of, "Whew! My workday is done. I can finally take off this enormous belly!" Only then I realized that I couldn't, see?

We have been the recipients of four lovely diaper cakes. As I have mentioned before, diapers are about to become as essential to us as lifeblood, so receiving diapers is a reasonably important event. The key is knowing how long a baby will be in a particular size of diaper, and since diaper cakes aren't something you can return to the store if you get too many of a particular size, one is always grateful to receive larger sizes of diapers.

Newborn size usually only lasts for about a week, and we have that one covered so far with several packages of newborn diapers and a newborn diaper cake. With twins they could be in that size a bit longer, but you get the point. Ah, but it's so much fun to buy the newborn items. I have been there, only now I "get" why newborn shower gifts, while popular, are not always the most helpful. Keep the tags on, because you might want to swap those clothes for a bigger size later.

Finally, while serving a mission I met a young couple who were expecting. The man was dashingly handsome and the wife was, well... big and somewhat puffy. I remember the woman sitting with her feet up when we came to visit, and showing us how when you pushed on her skin, it remained dimpled - er, dented. It just stayed like that. I left that area for a while and when I returned, there was their new little baby girl and a very skinny little wife. Water retention is a bear.

These days I find myself in the same boat as this young mother, big (as in people stare when I walk past them) and puffy. I have some very helpful individuals who seem to think that my puffy feet require some great advice about exercise during pregnancy. To these I gently and kindly mention that I was rather actively engaged in exercise until
A. I realized that it was causing contractions,
B. My feet and hands started to swell during the activities they have suggested, and
C. My doc told me not to.

I have thus far managed to suppress my inside voice that wants to say, "Dude, I'm not fat, I'm pregnant with twins!" Alas, those who have actually had twins often comment on how small and mobile I still am, and are impressed I haven't yet been confined to bed rest.

The secret to my success? I have an awesome husband who has voluntarily and willingly taken on (along with remodeling the master bath, yard care, and a list of other tasks) dishes, laundry, cleaning up after the birds, sweeping, vacuuming, shopping and more WHILE fighting a cold. He is often heard to tell me not to do anything that he can do for me, and to go put my feet up and relax. I tried to sweep the kitchen yesterday and was firmly chastised. What a nice guy. Can we say whoop? WHOOP! Whoop? WHOOP!!! Yep, I landed a winner. He's my hero.