Year's end

The year began with finding out we were having twins, and we're ending it with five kids and a very full house. I feel like my emotions were on a rollercoaster this year. Disbelief and fear when we found out about the twins; nervousness and worry while I was pregnant; extreme exhaustion, migraines, and hormone surges after they were born; and finally, attempts to find some sort of normalcy in our new lives. Add in some of my least patient moments as a parent (both before and after the twins were born) and this year has certainly been a doozy.

I'm a big fan of the TLC show Jon and Kate Plus 8. It chronicles the lives of a family who had twins and then sextuplets. A few months after our twins were born, I was watching an episode in which they took all their kids to the hospital where the sextuplets were born and the condo nearby where they lived until all six kids could come home. At the end of the episode, Kate talked about how many great memories they had of that condo because it was the last time they were a family of four. She said something like, "It was the last time things were simple." As I watched, tears started streaming down my face. I vividly remembered looking at our family portrait from 2007 about a week or so after the twins were born and wishing for the "good-old" days of three kids. Of course, I wouldn't wish the twins themselves away for anything, but at the time, I was lamenting the huge upheaval in our household.

Our lives have been turned upside down over the past year, but in so many good ways. I find myself crying often these days, just so overwhelmed by all of the blessings we've been given. As I watched the annual Nativity program at my in-laws' house on Christmas Eve (with S and N as angels, A2 as baby Jesus, and H and T as wisemen) I cried once again at the blessings of five happy, healthy kids; two jobs that pay the bills; a house that keeps us warm and safe; wonderful family and friends who drop everything to help us; and the Savior, who has truly carried us through all of the events this year. We are truly blessed.

Happy New Year!

Photo by suzyo photography

Early Christmas present from the twins

You're welcome.



(P.S. Lest you think I've forgotten I have other children, we did take photos of all the kids in their awesome matching outfits from my mother-in-law, but all of those are on the back-up hard drive that seems to have died. This was the only one that I had pulled off previously.)

Rules? What rules?

Something that brings out the worst in me: the elementary school parking lot.

This year, I've been blessed with wonderful friends who have helped with carpooling for school. I take kids in the morning and they bring my kids home. Especially wonderful because the afternoon pick-up scene is a nightmare. The drop-off scene isn't so bad because people are dropping their kids off at different times, so the chaos is staggered. But everyone (for the later track) comes at the exact same time to pick up their kids and, let me tell you, it isn't pretty. People cutting in front of each other, people blocking traffic to get out of their cars and get their kids, and on and on. And the ugliest part of all is the scene inside my own car. I've never gotten out and yelled at anyone (I've wanted to, though, believe me) but I'm usually muttering and/or yelling about this crazy parent or that crazy parent. So, it's been delightful to avoid that mess for the past few months.

However, I've discovered another big annoyance this year--the afternoon kindergarten drop-off. It's different in that there are a lot fewer parents in the parking lot because there's only one afternoon kindergarten class. Seems good, right? Wrong. Because there are fewer cars, parents feel like they can completely disregard the rules. No teacher guarding the bus lane? Well, that must mean we can charge on through and pull right up to the curb! Never mind the little five year-old kids walking on the crosswalk that goes through the bus lane. There are only a few of them, and we wouldn't hit them! And maybe we should park our cars right over the crosswalk so rule-abiding children whose silly parents have told them they have to cross at the crosswalk will instead run all the way down to the other crosswalk. Nice, don't you think?

I try to not let this annoy me, but would it really be that big of a deal to pull up to the drop-off lane like the rest of us? Does your child have a problem with walking an extra 100 feet? I can't tell you how many times poor H has stood at the curb, waiting an extra amount of time to make sure no crazy parents will come blazing through the bus lane. In the morning, they post teachers and cones in front of the bus lane so parents won't drive there. I remember the principal saying last year that she's had teachers repeatedly come in after this duty scared out of their minds because crazy parents in SUVs tried to mow them down.

I've e-mailed the principal about the bus lane issue but haven't heard anything back. I do feel slightly better having vented about it now. Perhaps I'll be able to silence my loud mutterings in the car every day from now on. Or maybe not. :)

There is that one thing

Ok, I thought of one thing that I don't like about this time of year. But it's not the season's fault. It's mine.

Every year, I bake treats for friends, neighbors, visiting teaching families, and home teaching families. There's the baking, the wrapping, the card-writing, and of course, the dropping off. On some level, I do it because I want to. I want to show my love and friendship for others at this time of year. But a small part of me might do it just because everyone else does. (Did I just admit that?)

A few weeks ago, I started thinking about "the list" (of who gets treats) and after much deliberation, I've decided not to do treats at all.

I could pretend it's because I want to get away from all the commercialism at Christmas--you know, really be one with the season. But really, it's because I'm lazy. The mere thought of all that baking and preparing just about sent me over the edge so I decided it wasn't worth it. Unfortunately, my guilt might decide for me. When I went visiting teaching last week and handed her just a card (because I couldn't go completely empty-handed!!!) I of course felt the need to explain why. But, I really doubt she even thought twice about it. When neighbors bring over treats, I immediately think, "Better make sure they're on the list." And then I remember there is no list. I'm starting to feel like Luther Krank in Skipping Christmas...

So, this is a message to my neighbors, friends, and loved ones. If you don't receive a Christmas treat from us this year (and you won't, because no one will) please don't think less of us. We love all of you very much, and we're so grateful to have such wonderful people in our lives. But this mom's taking a year off from it all... or maybe two or three years (I'll assess my guilt to increased sanity ratio at the end of December before I decide about next year).

I heart Christmas

I love everything about this time of year--the sights, the sounds, the smells, the emotions--everything.

I love decorating for Christmas.
I love twinkly white lights.
I love that the older I get, the more I believe in Santa Claus.
I love watching Christmas movies (White Christmas, Holiday Inn, Elf, The Santa Clause, and yes, even The Christmas Story)
I love watching my kids on Christmas morning--reminds me of staying up late with my little sister on Christmas Eve, way too excited to sleep.
I love the Nativity play we do at my in-laws every year. I still remember when S had her turn as "Baby Jesus". I quietly cried as I watched, overwhelmed by the kinship I felt with Mary.
I love crazy Christmas decorations on other people's houses.
I love singing Christmas carols.
I love getting together with family and friends.
I love that for even one month during the year, people are a little bit nicer to each other, the world seems to have more hope, and people stop and remember the Savior.

I heart Christmas.

Our first (and possibly only) trip to the North Pole

The Polar Express train ride started out reasonably well.

Children were wild with anticipation.

Everyone enjoyed reading along as the original story was recited.

Some (ok, me) were less than enthusiastic due to a sinus headache and what I call "The Sudafed Fog."

But it was truly wonderful to see the kids' faces light up when we reached the North Pole, and even more so when Santa walked into our car. Every child got one-on-one time with him and every child got a special bell. It was great.
Some of us (ok, me again) got cranky on the way back when carols turned into yelling matches and when one five-year-old boy decided he had to pee. (Note: H had gone to the bathroom at the station before we left, but after too much hot chocolate on the train, he had to go again. NO bathrooms on the train. Seriously. One of the elves told us he would be happy to show H a place where he could pee off the back of the train. The elf also suggested a plastic cup. My shy boy was having none of that, but somehow my father-in-law convinced him to pee outside in a trash can or something. Really, I think nature took over and he realized he was out of options.)

Then things really took an interesting turn when one passenger decided that drinking vodka out of a clear plastic flask would help her get in the Christmas spirit. Really.

(video removed)

This was just one tiny portion of her performance. She went on and on and on, ending with a "Murrry Chrishhmas" greeting. (We don't think she came with kids, but her female friends were beyond mortified at her behavior.)

A few obvious questions arise from this incident: Why would grown women come on a Polar Express train ride without any kids? And why would one of these women decide that bringing vodka on a train full of children was a sound idea? And getting drunk at 6 pm... on a Monday? Really? Lastly, as my husband eloquently put, "A plastic flask? Come on. If you're going to be a lush, at least go for something in stainless steel."

Cocoa Latte

One of my all-time favorite Christmas gifts from my mother-in-law is our cocoa latte machine. What is that, you ask? Only the most fabulous hot drink maker in the entire world, of course. Just pour in your chosen beverages, turn it on, and it heats and mixes to the perfect temperature--not too hot, not too cold. Perhaps you're thinking, why not just make hot chocolate the old-fashioned way? Because the real genius of the cocoa latte machine is the froth/dispense button. Just turn that baby on, dispense your drink, and you instantly have a delicious, frothy confection. I use it a ton during the winter, making plain old hot chocolate, egg nog with nutmeg, mexican hot chocolate, and of course, the ever popular Coffee Mate creamers with milk. My current favorite is Hazelnut Biscotti.

If you'd like to sample the Cocoa Latte perfection for yourself, pop on over. We'll drink them in oversized mugs and watch a movie. It'll be awesome.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

... especially when you hang out all day in snuggly flannel PJ's.

Reminder

I've had a post brewing for a few days now. It was going to be a rant about disobedient, disrespectful children who have a sense of entitlement I've never seen the likes of before. I was planning to plea for help with said children because it seems like everything we've tried just hasn't worked. I've been letting this post brew in my head, thinking often about how my children frustrate me, why they do this, and why they won't do that. Then last night, I found this while I was getting ready for bed:

I don't think my daughter spends her days thinking about why her mom gets impatient with her sometimes, or why her mom doesn't always have time to sit and play with her. Even though it's obviously important as parents to think of ways to help our children progress, it's wonderful to be reminded that forgiveness, love, and stick figures holding hands are pretty important, too.

100th post

I think it's fitting that my 100th post should fall during Thanksgiving week. I didn't think I could manage a list of the 100 things I'm most grateful for, but I decided a list of 20 things was definitely do-able.

Top Twenty Thankful Fors (in no particular order)

I am thankful for:

1. Twice the baby snuggles
2. A husband who always notices my moods, even if I'd rather stay mad a while longer
3. Fabulous giggles from my eight-year-old
4. T telling me he loves me, followed by a sloppy kiss and fierce hug
5. Being able to lose the baby weight quickly (and rather inexplicably)
6. Four sisters who advise me, love me, laugh with me, and cry with me
7. My parents, who loved their kids enough to be strict with them
8. In-laws who love me almost as much as my parents do
9. Two boys who live most of their lives in the superhero world
10. Full belly laughs from not just one, but two sweet babies
11. A job that lets me be home with my kids
12. Sunday dinners with family and friends
13. The simple pleasures of a donut and hot chocolate
14. Two babies who sleep through the night
15. Counsel from a living prophet
16. The great neighborhood we live in
17. Kids who have imaginations as big as their parents
18. Quiet time with a good book
19. The chance to celebrate the birth of our Savior
20. My blog. I'm grateful for the journal keeping it's provided, since I haven't been good at writing in my journal for at least a decade.

My cup runneth over. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Stopping time

I've been known to wish time would go faster. "It's so hot this summer--I wish winter would come." "Pretty soon it will be Christmas. I can't wait!" "I wish I didn't have to work and could just play with the kids and take care of the house all day... maybe someday."

Yesterday, as I was putting ornaments on the Christmas tree, I got teary-eyed looking at all the precious ornaments my kids have made, even as far back as S's first year in nursery. Each of them is like a little time capsule, especially the ones with pictures of the kids when they were small. My babies are getting big much too fast.

Whenever I start to wish time away, I'm reminded of a quote from the movie Hook. I don't know the exact quote, but it's Moira (the mom) talking to Peter (the dad). She chastises him for never being home, always working too much, and missing important events with the kids. She tells him that they only have a short while with their kids--when kids want to be with their parents. Pretty soon, the parents are begging the kids to spend time with them.

I'm not sure if it's because the twins are the cabooses on our family, but I'm starting to feel like time is slipping through my fingers, bucketfuls at a time. I want to stop time now, while S still loves to play dress up and make-believe; while H still gives me hugs and runs to me when he's sad or afraid; while T still wakes up every morning and puts on the Spider-man costume before the rest of the house is awake; and while A2 and N are still wide-eyed, innocent, and just happy to be with their family.

I don't want to miss a single second of this time with our kids--every hug, every swordfight, every new tooth, and every tiny milestone reached. I want to soak it all up and hold it close. Because one day, much too soon, I'll be wondering where time went and how the kids got so big. So please, time, slow down. You're going by way too fast.

Just T and the babies

My favorite time of the workday is when it's just me, T, and the babies each afternoon. T usually takes a nap on the couch, his brother and sister snooze away in their swings, and I work amidst the quiet. It's delightful. It's an especially nice break from the fighting that T and H do on a daily basis. All in all, they have a great time together, but I get tired of breaking up fights over action figures, determining who actually hit whom, and sending both to time out yet again. It's mostly just nice to hang out with any of the older three on their own. T and I have some great conversations. Here's my favorite from today:

T: Mom, I jumped over A2. (A2 was lying on the rug in the living room at the time.)
Me: T! You shouldn't jump over your brother. What if you fell on him? You could really hurt him!
T: If I fell on him, I would say sorry.

Well, then. I'm sure A2 would feel much better about the whole thing if T just apologized after breaking his tiny arm.

Superhero dedication

When cold temperatures hit, it can be tough to be a superhero. Think that flimsy suit is going to keep you warm during the winter? Not a chance.

Thankfully, superheroes have come up with winter alternatives. I bet you weren't aware that gloves, hats, and boots can also become part of superhero wear. Well, they can. And it's really best to wear these items inside, all day, every day to make sure you really look the part. Also, the more "super" items you combine into one outfit, the more powers you actually possess.
Sometimes, it can get pretty depressing when your super mom won't let you go out without a coat on. But then she suggests you wear your brother's huge snow coat, and all is well once again.

And sometimes, you can decide to not be a superhero and instead be "a guy who jumps out of planes." But you'll still look pretty cool anyway.

Moving on

In the interest of moving on from the election and not wanting to see such a depressing post every time I click on my blog, I thought I'd post something new. Here are recent pics of the twins in their blessing outfits.

Feel better? Me too.

I'm already getting excited about the holiday season. Two radio stations are playing Christmas music 24/7 and I'm going to dig out my holiday CDs so the kids and I can listen to holiday tunes in the car. A is against holiday music this early, but we'll just turn it off when he's with us. :) S asked when we could decorate the house, and I told her we had to wait just a little while longer. I always decorate the weekend before Thanksgiving to have them up for the maximum time possible. (Of course, I leave the autumn decorations up outside until the day after Thanksgiving, lest my neighbors think I'm nuts. Although, if they're reading this, the jig's up. Oh well.)Anyway, I've also got quite a bit done on the shopping front, which always makes me happy.

Another thing making me very happy is that I'm not the least bit depressed. Let me explain. In the months after T was born, I experienced quite a bit of depression, which got really bad smack dab in the middle of the holiday season 2005. I remember feeling so down, and knowing in the back of my mind that I could get myself out of it, but I just couldn't seem to do it for some reason. This time around, I'm thrilled to report that I feel much differently. I was so worried that things would be incredibly stressful with twins. And yes, things can get pretty crazy (especially if we all go to Walmart together--hello, two carts!). But for the most part, things are going a-ok, including working part-time. My biggest feeling right now is gratitude for things (and people) big and small. Thanks that the passion A felt during the election gave way to a whole new voice in his writing; thanks for the way S loves to read, especially Ramona Quimby, age 8; thanks for H's increased desire to give me hugs; thanks for quiet afternoons with T and the babies; and thanks for emerging personalities in the twins--A2, the quiet observer and N, the constant mover. I love all of these people so much.

In other news, I can fit into my skinny jeans again. Just barely, but still.

Let down

Forgive me for a moment while I try and write out some of my feelings on this day.

I don't think I can accurately express in words my disappointment, disillusionment, and frankly, depression over the results of the presidential election. That so many millions of Americans would blindly ignore long-time radical associations; favor rhetoric and slick speeches over decades of selfless service; and be so naive as to believe that one man or one political party could or should be blamed for the current state of our country is unbelievably depressing to me. For weeks, I've clung to the hope that Americans would dig deeper than the surface and vote on more than just emotion, but sadly, that was not the case. I hope and pray that Obama's liberal ideologies won't find their way into law in the months and years to come, but with a Democratic majority in both the House and the Senate, I don't see much standing in his way.

The one bright spot of this whole day was the results of marriage propositions in California, Florida, and Arizona (assuming the early returns for California hold up). Thank goodness for that, and thank goodness for the great citizens of those states who stood up for what they believed in.

I started out the day with such anticipation, and I'm ending it feeling totally numb. Just numb.

Family weekend extravaganza

We've just completed quite the family whirlwind weekend. It first started with Halloween and all the festivities that go along with that. Then on Saturday, S was baptized and confirmed by her dad. It was such a great experience. Afterward, she said she felt "really, really clean." We had brunch after that at our home for family and friends. On Sunday, A blessed the twins in church, with lunch to follow at his parents' home. Three out of my four sisters were able to come (we missed you, M!), along with my parents, grandparents on both sides, all of A's siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, and good friends. It was such a wonderful weekend and I'm so glad we got to share both events with so many people we care about.

Healthy competition

When we found out we were having a boy and a girl, I breathed a little sigh of relief. I thought that with one of each, there would be much less competition and comparison (than if we had two girls or two boys--who's cuter, who's taller, who goes on more dates, blah, blah). I never thought that A and I would be actually be creating competition for these babies. For example, a pretend conversation between the babies that we made up last week:

N: I can roll over from front to back.
A2: So what--have you seen my chin rolls? I've got at least a pound on you, sister.
N: Whatever. I'm just watching my girlish figure.
A2: And have you seen me eat? I finish a whole bottle in the time it takes you to eat two ounces!
N: Please. I've already got everyone charmed with my flirtatious smiles.
A2: Have you heard me laugh? I've got belly laughs that would outcharm your smiles any day...

Thankfully, A2 rolled over today, a whole week and a half after his sister. Phew. We were starting to worry he'd be woefully behind her in development. :) :) :)

Poor kids--they've got crazies for parents.

Eight is Great!

Happy eighth birthday to S! I can't believe my little girl is eight years old! It really doesn't seem that long ago that she was a chubby little baby, entertaining people in church with her silly faces. And now we get to enjoy her all over again with N, the perfect reincarnation of her big sister, flirty smiles and all.

S is such a sweet and happy girl. She loves to learn, and her teacher couldn't praise her enough when we had a parent/teacher conference a few weeks ago. She's learning to write letters in class right now and yesterday, she got a lot of birthday letters from classmates that said things like, "You are so nice." "You're my best, best friend." "You have such a great laugh." (She does, by the way.) I'm so thankful that S is such a good friend to others. She's such a good example for her brothers and sister. But I'm most proud of her decision to be baptized. The big day is next Saturday and we couldn't be more excited. Happy birthday, sweetie! We love you!

Harvest

Fall is my favorite time of year. Not necessarily Halloween, because I'm a scaredy-cat at heart, but I love pumpkins, the changing leaf colors, cooler temps, and of course, the food! On Monday, we went to Cornbelly's. It wasn't too cold, so that was good. The next day, we picked a few pumpkins from Grandma's pumpkin patch to display on our porch. I had a great idea to pose the twins in the middle of a circle of pumpkins, but it was super windy that day and I wasn't about to torture them for a picture. So, I tried to do it indoors. Unfortunately, little babies who can't sit up by themselves tend to lean a lot, and leaning makes the pumpkins themselves fall down. Oh, well. They're still cute pictures.

Lullaby

Last night, as A and I were feeding the babies for the last time before turning in, Conan O'Brien mentioned (on his show, of course, he wasn't actually in our living room) that since probably a lot of his viewers were parents with newborns, he wanted to sing those babies to sleep. Recognizing a perfect photo opportunity, we put the babies on a pillow right in front of the TV, and let Conan sing them to sleep.


A2 screamed his head off, and N found the whole thing just plain disturbing.

Sorry, Conan.

Complaints

I'm tired of headaches. This is my second migraine in a week's time. I'm tired of blind spots, wanting to throw up because of the pain, and the after effects that seem to linger for a few days.

I'm tired of messes. A took the boys camping in the desert for a few days. I was so happy to have them come home yesterday, but not happy about the mess they brought with them. S and I quickly realized over the weekend that it's really the two boys (T and H) who make the big toy messes around here. She rarely even plays in the toy room anymore.

I'm tired of loud children. It is much, much quieter without T and H around. Within just a few hours of them returning yesterday, they both had been sent to their room for swordplay that barely avoided breaking the TV. I love them both dearly, but they are very loud and very crazy 99.9% of the time.

I'm tired of general disobedience, rudeness, and selective deafness. "H, let's do your homework. "No, I don't want to do homework." "T, please get in your carseat and put on your seatbelt." (He was still scrambling into his seatbelt as I was backing out of the garage.) "S, get your coat on and your teeth brushed. The carpool will be here soon." (5 minutes later--same request. Carpool honks and still no coat on.)

If you're planning on writing a comment/calling me and reminding me that there are much bigger problems in the world and I shouldn't let the small stuff get to me, please don't. I know these things, and I usually do a pretty good job of telling myself that my life is good and I shouldn't complain. But--remember the migraine? I'm in a bad mood and I'd like to stay there for a while.

Update: T and I just danced in the kitchen for a bit, and I may feel slightly better.

Remembering

A post yesterday from another friend expecting twins (seriously, there's something in the water!) has got me all nostalgic. I keep thinking about when we found out, the shock when the ultrasound tech showed me those two tiny sacs, and all of the emotions and worry that came after.

When we found out we were expecting twins, a good friend (whose precious twin girls weren't even two months old yet) told me right away how great it was to have twins. I remember thinking, "She's only been doing this for a while and already she thinks it's great. Maybe this won't be so bad after all!"

And now, my little ones are just over two months. Sure, the first month (at least) was a complete and total blur. You couldn't pay me enough money to relive it. Seriously. And just once, I'd like to feed these babies and be able to really relax, without having to take the bottle out of N's mouth every five swallows so she doesn't gulp, watch her like a hawk to make sure she doesn't puke, and give her a 30 minute break in the middle to cut down on puking episodes.

But really, these little people are so, so sweet. They sleep pretty darn well at night. They sleep (for the most part) pretty darn well during the day. They smile, coo, and even laugh. They're fun to dress up in matching outfits. And surprisingly, going out and about with our whole family is pretty amusing as well. Twins make for quite the spectacle on their own, but who knew I would love watching people's faces as they count up my kids and realize that yes, they're all ours! It's pretty hilarious, that's for sure.

I'm reminded of a comment left by another friend and twin mom when I posted the birth story: "Isn't it wonderful to look at these two little ones and think about how they wanted to come together?"

Yep, pretty wonderful.

Photo Shoots

Lest you think we've forgotten that we have three children besides the twins, here are a few pics of the older kids.

Also, a funny comment from the T-man. A was restoring a painting of Abraham Lincoln in PhotoShop for work and T said, "Who's that?" When A told him who it was, T said, "Oh yeah. He went to my school when he was a little boy." Oh, the mind of a three year old, to think that he knows everybody, even the people who died 150 years ago.

Of course, I've saved the best for last. As my husband was madly trying to get them to smile at the same time, he calls this photo, "A2 thinks Dad's jokes are hilarious. N? Not so much."
Don't worry, N. Sometimes I don't think his jokes are all that funny either.

Baby steps

After reading a post by my fabulous friend Melinda (who I look up to in all aspects of life, but particularly for her ability to glean wisdom and humor out of just about every experience), I started thinking about balance--specifically, about balancing my emotions. I can be a fairly relaxed person sometimes, but throw my children into the mix and I can get fairly unhinged. If T were to say, pee in his underwear and his shorts and all over the bathroom floor and maybe a little of the carpet, too (thankfully, he rarely does this anymore), I am not exactly calm about the situation. I don't necessarily yell and scream about things, but it's more ranting in my head about extra laundry and pee on floors and why can't he try a little harder to get to the toilet faster.

I've noticed this happening with the babies as of late. A2 is back to not taking great naps (he goes in cycles and it drives me nuts). It's not a huge deal in terms of work stuff. I learned to type one-handed and read documents while bouncing a baby on my hip a long time ago. It's more about the chain reaction it causes, or the one I worry that it will cause. If A2 takes a crappy nap, then he'll get overtired; he'll start crying and probably wake up his sister, who will also get overtired. I find myself hissing at the older kids if they so much as speak above a whisper when both babies actually happen to be sleeping. And then I worry that bad naps will mean bad night sleeping; on and on and on.

>>Insert huge deep breath here.<<

Basically, I really need to work on not letting tiny things become huge things in my head. I'm great at calming down other people and helping them realize that mole hills don't need to turn into mountains, but I'm not so super at making myself realize that. Small problems don't need to turn into huge catastrophes. When my children leave toothpaste all over their bathroom (which they do every morning and night--does toothpaste really need to go on the hand towel?), it's not the end of the world. If they want to make a mess, fine; they just have to do better at cleaning things up. When N pukes all over me yet again, it's nothing a change of clothes won't fix, right?

My husband keeps saying that if we're going to handle having five kids, we've got to become more laid-back and let more of the small stuff go. Giving up control of every minute detail??!! How can this be a good thing??!!

I have found lately that giving the older kids more jobs helps with my peace of mind. If they're going to get a bounty of crumbs on the kitchen floor at every meal, then they should vacuum them up. In the words of Leo Marvin (and Bob, for that matter), baby steps. It's all about baby steps.

Little man no more

I've been thinking lately that with all the drama surrounding N's eating issues, I haven't written much about A2 (formerly little A--this is faster to type) lately. I took the babies to the doc yesterday for their two-month checkup and confirmed what we had already suspected. A2 is "little man" no more. Thanks to the wonderfully fattening properties of formula, he is just a few ounces shy of doubling his birth weight.

From their beginning days in the womb, A2 has been a patient man. At almost every ultrasound we went to, N was taking up more than her fair share of room in there, usually cramping her brother into a corner. At the very last one while I was in labor, she was stretching out all across the top of my uterus, while A2 was in his usual head-down cramped position at the bottom. Since their birth, it seemed like those roles were continuing. N was the more impatient of the two, and we nicknamed her "diva." But in the past few weeks, A2 has become a little more feisty, especially when it comes to eating. He pretty much wants to start eating the moment he wakes up. N is content to look around, coo, and eat her fists. A2 will do that for about 30 seconds, but then he starts fussing. Rather than being impatient, I prefer to think of it as his readiness to get on with things. Once he starts eating, he's all business until the bottle's empty. And his business-like attitude has certainly paid off, as evidenced by his leg rolls, chin rolls, and arm rolls. I can't believe we ever joked about his skinny little chest and his bony arms and legs. Nothing bony about this boy anymore!

N is probably the more social of the two--she cooes and talks a ton. The only problem is she does this the most when you're trying to get her to eat. It's adorable, but I'd rather save these "chats" for when her belly's full, you know? Even if N outdoes her brother in talking, A2 is the smiliest baby I've ever met. Give him a little attention and he will immediately give you an ear-to-ear grin. It melts my heart every time.

N is about a pound behind her brother, but when you eat half as much for two weeks, that's bound to happen. Maybe she'll catch up to him or maybe she'll stay about a pound behind for a while. I don't care so much, as long as she keeps up with her good eating habits. I guess it's better than having a sumo wrestler little girl with a skinny brother, right?

I also wanted to write down a few of my favorite things about the older kids these past two months. For all their loudness and disobedience (I know, shocking!), they have loved their new siblings from the very beginning and continue to dote on them a ton.

S: She has drawn the cutest pictures of her new siblings and always wants to show me how much she can help. She also always seems to know when I need a hug or a special note. When I cried the other day after both A2 and N started puking, she immediately went and wrote me the most precious little note.

H: H is awesome about holding his brother and sister. He's super patient with them, even when they start fussing and crying in his arms. When I ask if he wants me to take the baby, he always says, "No, just give me the pacifier."

T: T is such a big helper, especially when it's just me, him, and the babies. He likes to help me get their bottles ready and get diapers for me. He's also super interested in whether or not they pooped and we have regular discussions about their differences in anatomy during these diaper changes. :)

During my prayers last night, I was thinking about how blessed we really are. We have five happy and healthy kids. We have jobs that pay our bills. We have a great home and we live in a wonderful neighborhood and ward. And even if the material things were to go away, I'm still surrounded every day by my six favorite people in the whole world.

Lastly, a few pics of the two littlest favorite people.

At least we got the pizza

Sometimes I exhibit a few manic characteristics. For instance, when I decide upon something--perhaps an errand or getting something cleaned up in my house--that task must be carried out on my timetable or I get a little upset/testy. A classic example of this happened today.

I had a few coupons I wanted to use at Costco that were about to expire. I had plans for dinner tonight with friends, Thursday was booked up, and the rest of the weekend looked sketchy. If I was going to use the coupons, I needed to do it today after work. A was working later than normal and wasn't coming home anytime soon.

Normal people would have said, "It's not a good idea to take five children--two of them only two months old--to Costco by myself. Oh well. I'll get over it." I am not normal, and therefore, disregarded this notion. I asked S if she thought she could push a cart by herself (with one of the babies in the cart) to leave room to fill up the other cart with purchases. She said she thought she could. I knew we'd be a spectacle, but I decided I didn't care.

We got to Costco and S proceeded to push the 2nd cart through the parking lot. Fifty feet away from the car, she started saying it was too hard and heavy to push. Knowing that to forge ahead would be suicidal, we turned around and went back to the car. But did I give up the adventure? No. I wanted to use those coupons, dangit!

We went back home (10-15 minute drive in traffic) and I grabbed the Snugli carrier. I could carry one baby and keep the other one in the front of the cart! Easy as pie. We drove all the way back to Costco, suited up for the task ahead and did what we needed to do. The babies were good until we were in the line to pay and then both started crying at the same time. And they kept crying as I ordered a pepperoni pizza for dinner. They cried a bit more while we took all our purchases out to the car and picked up the formula the babies can't drink anymore so I could return it. They cried and fussed in the returns line and then fussed a bit more while we waited for the pizza to be done. But we got back out to the car with everyone in one piece and I felt like the adventure had gone as well as could be expected, considering it was totally unnecessary for me to inflict that upon myself.

As I was driving away, I happened to look down in my purse and see the three coupons, still sitting there. "NO!" I yelled. When S asked what was the matter, I told her I had forgotten to use the coupons. She said, "Oh, no! Well, at least we got the pizza."

Indeed. Phew!

You have GOT to be kidding me

Just now while feeding the babies, little A proceeded to spit up buckets and buckets. Yep, you read that right. Not N, but A. What the freak?!! He has NEVER done that before and there was absolutely no warning that it was going to happen. He has happily eating and then just started spewing.

After stripping off his clothes (and half of mine), I had H get me a new towel (we pretty much always feed the babies with a towel at the ready because of N's issues) and we started up again. No more than 30 seconds later, N coughed, gagged, and spewed a bit of her own. I cried and had S get me yet another towel.

Please, please let this be an isolated incident for little A. We are finally getting N's eating issues somewhat under control. I'm not sure I can handle going through this again with her brother (though you can bet I'm asking the doctor for two prescriptions for Prevacid at their 2 month appt. on Thursday, just in case). N still spews about once a day, but at least she's eating most of her bottles without putting up a fight. It usually takes longer than little A, but she gets there.

There's a little voice in the back of my head that keeps saying, "They never had these problems when you were breastfeeding." I know babies can still have reflux when they're breastfed. Both of my sister's breastfed twin boys had reflux. But we never dealt with this until formula entered the picture. I keep silencing the voice by saying that it's because they weren't getting enough to eat to begin with back then, so that's why we're seeing the issues now, but I'm not sure I believe it anymore. I know that quitting breastfeeding was the right answer for everyone, but why, oh why, is nothing ever simple anymore?

I know that parenting in general has challenges, but it just seems like our lives have gotten infinitely more complicated in the past two months. Just when I feel like we've gotten a handle on things, something happens and we take a few steps back. These babies are so precious, sweet, and good-natured. And for the past two days of me working, they've been very well-behaved. But life would be a bit easier if I didn't feel like I was covered in spit-up half the time, and washing the spit-upon clothes the other half.

Thank goodness

Thank goodness my husband wasn't in the car when this happened.
And no, this wasn't the result of an encounter with a psycho rock. Rather, it's what happened when this exploded.

This is a CO2 (carbon dioxide) cartridge that he uses to pump up his bike tires. He's left them in his car plenty of times. The disclaimer even says it should be ok in heat up to 120 degrees. Apparently, it exploded, ricocheted off the windshield, and popped a hole in the upholstery. There was even a ballpoint pen stuck in the passenger seat. I shudder to think what would have happened if he had been driving at the time. So now we just need to replace the windshield!

Top five

My top five favorite things about not working for the past eight weeks:

1. being able to read a book in the middle of the workday

2. being able to clean the bathrooms or vacuum the living room in the middle of the workday (thus leaving Saturdays free for fun stuff)

3. helping H with his reading, writing, and math before he goes to kindergarten every day

4. taking T and the babies to meet my husband at work for lunch

and my most favorite...

5. relaxing on the couch every afternoon while T and the babies snooze away. And then I get to take a nap as well.

My break from working ends on Monday and I will admit that I'm nervous about starting back up again. Thankfully it's only part-time, which with the new demands on my time, is about all I'll be able to handle. Here's to hoping for a good first week back!

P.S. N seems to be eating a little better on the whole, although I never know how much she'll eat at a particular feeding. She might calmly eat four ounces without putting up a fight, or she might eat two ounces and freak out if I try and make her eat more. Yesterday, every other feeding went well, and this morning, she finished her bottle before her brother. Keep your fingers crossed that it continues!

Grasping at straws

N's eating issues from last week have gotten worse. When she started arching her back, refusing to eat more than just a few ounces, and crying like she was in pain when we tried to get her to eat more, we decided it was time to take her to the doctor. The spitting up also got worse, both in terms of frequency and volume. I read a bunch on the web on Wednesday night and really felt like it was reflux, even if she didn't have all the classic symptoms.

I took her in on Thursday and the doc thought it was the formula, not reflux. He gave us a few cans of soy formula. When it wasn't any better the next day I was ready for a prescription, but the nurse said we had to give the soy formula a few days. So, we suffered through the weekend, with N eating only a few ounces at each feeding. Most of the time, she's only upset when we try and get her to eat. She doesn't scream later on or seem like she's in pain from gas. She just won't eat. And if I try and force the issue, she'll just spit everything back up and we have to start over.

Monday morning, I called the doctor's office again and said things were worse. They had me come in for a two-week sample of Prevacid, along with sample cans of Alimentum (uber-expensive formula for fussy babies). The doc said he still didn't think it was reflux. I decided to just try the medicine by itself first so I would know if it was working before trying the new formula.

We had somewhat of a better day yesterday during the day. At one feeding, she actually ate almost all four ounces without putting up a fight. But last night, we had a really tough time getting her to eat much at all. And this morning, she ate less than one ounce and stopped. After trying unsuccessfully to get her to eat more of the soy, I mixed up some of the Alimentum (boy, is it smelly!). She ate a bit of that and then stopped.

*Sigh*

This is becoming so frustrating and sad, especially when compared with her brother's eating habits. He continues to be the champion of eaters, and we're pretty sure he's passed his sister up in weight. I know that if it is reflux, it could take a while to see a difference from the Prevacid. But in the meantime, little N half starves herself and we sit and speculate on what to try next if this doesn't work. And the saddest part about it really is how happy she is otherwise. She'll cry and fuss when I put the bottle in her mouth and then when I take it out, she starts smiling and cooing. She's such a sweet little baby and I just really want to figure out this problem so she'll continue to grow and get fat like her brother. :)

Too cute

These pictures were just too cute to not share. Enjoy!

Frustrations

You know how babies go through phases of not sleeping great for naps? Well, such phases can really become frustrating when it's two babies. For the past several days, both babies have taken pretty crappy naps. They always take daytime naps in their swings, which until now, have worked their magical powers quite beautifully. But now both of them will only sleep for a short period of time and then wake up. I'll get one baby back to sleep, and like clockwork, the other one instantly opens his/her eyes. This process usually continues until it's time to eat again. (Their tagteaming skills are unrivaled, I tell you!) I would love it if they would sleep in their crib during the day, but whenever I've tried, both of them sleep for 30 minutes and then pop their little eyes open. Then I'm stuck trying to get both back to sleep for usually another hour. At least if they're in their swings, it doesn't take quite as long to get them back to sleep.

Their swings have vibrators and even noise machines built in, so I don't think it's background noise waking them up. They're both snuggled up in their awesome swaddling blankets as well. Today I even rolled up blankets next to them so their pacifiers wouldn't come out of their mouths before they had fallen asleep. It may have helped slightly.

The other frustration right now is little N's eating habits. When we first started on formula, she would gulp and gulp, probably due to the fact that she hadn't been getting enough with breastmilk. But in the past week or so, she will eat only a few ounces and then become completely uninterested and usually drift off into a doze. I tickle her jaw, burp her, take off her clothes, and play with her hands and feet. If that doesn't work, I resort to taking a cool wipe and running it over her head, face, and neck to get her to pay attention and stay awake. In the meantime, little A has completely finished eating and is usually starting to get annoyed. He's so business-like about the whole thing. Get in, get the job done, and move on. Barely any spitting up and hardly any burping.

I don't think it has anything to do with the formula itself; I think she just gets bored or decides she feels good with a few ounces, so why continue? I know that if I just let her eat those few ounces and don't push her to eat more, she'd be hungry again in an hour. And I just can't spend all day feeding her. The other problem is if she happens to gulp at the beginning, she may projectile spit up halfway through, just for kicks. *Sigh.*

I really, really hope these eating and napping issues are just short little phases that will work themselves out sooner rather than later. Any advice would be most appreciated!

On a very positive note, both babies have slept for five hours straight for the past two nights. That in itself wouldn't be that out of ordinary, but both times they slept the entire time in their crib. Most nights, I end up with one baby asleep on my chest and one lying next to me. They always start out in the crib, but after putting them both back to sleep two or three times, I give up and bring them in bed with us. To have five hours of sleep without any little people nearby was most glorious. :)

P.S. I did get a picture of little N smiling, but she moved and the pic was blurry.