tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153444922024-03-23T14:19:05.869-04:00I'm WaitingAfter years of infertility and IVF, we've finally seen light from the other side. I knew it could happen, but certainly didn't think it would be us ... our new life with twins. Gulp.laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.comBlogger204125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-16057896205545813332009-12-01T16:48:00.004-05:002009-12-01T16:57:47.940-05:00In a Quandry Re: Clinic EttiqueteYes, I'm in a pickle. And it's not baby/fertility/IVF related. Well, not directly related, anyway. And I'm wondering if I was wrong. Did I make a poor decision?<div><br /></div><div>I had an appointment at the fertility clinic today. This was a just a talking appointment, as I wanted to get their thoughts about our situation, and about doing a single embryo transfer. </div><div><br /></div><div>The doctor we used last time was fine. He was efficient, and obviously successful at what he does. Hence my twins. But I found him to be a little cold and all-business, and a little bit difficult to talk with. So, I made this appointment with his partner, a very nice (and a bit more easy-to-talk to) doctor whom I had seen for a few visits when he was on call. </div><div><br /></div><div>From the beginning of the appointment, he seemed confused why I was there to see him. Then he asked my why I was seeing him, not his partner. I was taken a little off-guard and said that I didn't particularly care who I saw, first available, etc. </div><div><br /></div><div>We continued with our previous discussion, and he stopped mid-stream and asked again. So I said, frankly, I wanted to just have a discussion about our case, and I found his partner harder to talk to. That I'd seen him on occasion, and thought he would be good to talk with.</div><div><br /></div><div>After that, I just felt plain awkward. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now I'm wondering, what do I do? Frankly, I don't care who I see. I didn't realize I was creating a great faux paux, I certainly don't want to cause a hulabulu. Who do I make my next appointment with? Should I feel awkward when I inevitably see the other doctor at an appointment? </div><div><br /></div><div>Uggggg. What did I do?</div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-86067980965704572402009-10-13T16:12:00.003-04:002009-10-13T16:35:23.034-04:00Emotions of BabyMaking<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Uggg</span>. Babies are so emotional. I mean, making babies is so emotional. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ooops</span>. Making babies the ART way is so emotional. So much for clarification.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I've been so proud of myself lately. I've approached the thought of having another child with maturity, careful deliberation, and very little emotion. But then I get to my OB/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">GYN's</span> office today, and it's like freaking waterworks. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Which is why I'm so hesitant to go the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">IVF</span> route. The emotions of it all, getting tied up in successes and failures. The hormones. Gawd, the hormones. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The visit was pretty much as I'd expected. There's nothing she can really do for me. I'm healthy. My cycles are normal, I ovulated, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">yaddah</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">yaddah</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">yaddah</span>. There's really only one way to deal with male-factor infertility, and that's at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">RE's</span> office. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">She did, however, reassure me of a few things. One, that just because I had premature twins, another pregnancy does not automatically mean a high risk pregnancy.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And two, that having a conversation with the RE about the potential success of a single-embryo transfer would <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">definitely</span> be worth my while. My RE practice is the one that she respects the most, the one she thinks is the most thoughtful about their medical practices, and she tells me</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">According to their 2007 reported results, in my age bracket, the </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">percentage</span> of transfers resulting in singleton live births is </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">34.5%, but their percentage of pregnancies resulting in twins is 35.9%. I don't dig that. In 2004 (the numbers I had available to reference when we were first trying to get pregnant), they were 46.5% and 25%. I don't dig that either. Why in the world has their rate of singleton live births gone down and twins gone up?</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So, I've made an appointment. For a conversation. In December. Whew.</span></span></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-4852631577102328342009-10-06T15:11:00.002-04:002009-10-06T15:22:55.548-04:00Damnit. I'm back.Waiting, waiting, waiting. Isn't that my story?<div><br /></div><div>I'm reminded of the Dr. Seuss book "Oh The Places You'll Go." It's a favorite with the 3 year old set, and there is a passage that just reminds me of my life right now.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>You can get so confused<br />that you'll start in to race<br />down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace<br />and grind on for miles cross weirdish wild space,<br />headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.<br />The Waiting Place...<br /><br />...for people just waiting.<br />Waiting for a train to go<br />or a bus to come, or a plane to go<br />or the mail to come, or the rain to go<br />or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow<br />or the waiting around for a Yes or No<br />or waiting for their hair to grow.<br />Everyone is just waiting.<br /><br />Waiting for the fish to bite<br />or waiting for the wind to fly a kite<br />or waiting around for Friday night<br />or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake<br />or a pot to boil, or a Better Break<br />or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants<br />or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.<br />Everyone is just waiting.</i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><div>Yes, I think I'd like another chance.</div><div><br /></div><div>It came out in conversation the other night. My husband seemed, to me, to be quiet and pensive. So I started hounding him about how he was feeling, what was going on in his head, his level of happiness with our life, etc. etc. All of the horrible things that women do to our men!</div><div><br /></div><div>Honestly, he's fine. He'd just had a long day. He's a generally happy guy! But when he turned the tables on me, the dissatisfaction reared it's ugly head. And what came out of my mouth was:</div><div><br /></div><div>"Well, I think I'd really like to have another kid."</div><div><br /></div><div>Whhhhhhaaaaaatttttttt? </div><div><br /></div><div>But there it is. </div><div><br /></div><div>And, like in conversations past, when we'd said that if it happened on it's own, that would be cool, I expressed my lack of desire for more IVF and all that it entails. For two reasons, mostly:</div><div><br /></div><div>(1) Multiples. Multiples. Multiples. Let me say it again: multiples. I cannot - will not - have twins again. Premature birth. Overwhelming. Mental instability. I could go on and on. </div><div><br /></div><div>(2) Disappointment. The way we've been going (i.e. no birth control, but obviously not much success), I don't have a lot invested. Thus, when I get my period, I'm slightly sad, but nothing - NOTHING - compared to the overwhelming loss that comes when you've invested your time, money and heart in the procedures.</div><div><br /></div><div>He surprised me and said that if I wanted to do IVF again, he would support that idea. As long as we "got the show on the road" and did it now. He does not want to wait.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh God. Do I want it bad enough? </div><div><br /></div><div>Perhaps so. I'd tracked my ovulation this month, had the requisitly timed sex, and then had some 'symptoms' of pregnancy this month. And I bought a test. And I took it. And it was negative.</div><div><br /></div><div>But my brain was working. It made me think I was really pregnant. And I was excited. </div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know. I'm afraid I'll never know. But, I did make an appointment with my OBGYN for next week. I know she can't do much, but I wanted to talk to her before I go all Crazy Doctor RE on everyone. To make sure I do everything I can possibly do before going the IVF route. </div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe she'll do a little bloodwork for me? I do miss her!</div><div><br /></div></span></span></span></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-73354169566979493942009-03-04T17:15:00.005-05:002009-03-04T22:10:13.896-05:00My Old Lover is BackOh my God. I feel like I'm cheating. <div><br /></div><div>On so many levels. First, I thought this blog was done. Finito. Terminado. But over the past month, I've been lurking around my old blogroll. I excitedly saw that <a href="http://www.tertia.org/">Tertia</a> is expecting a baby. I bought her <a href="http://www.amazon.com/So-Close-Infertile-Addicted-Hope/dp/0620430303">book</a>. Sunny is <a href="http://gracehopeandfaith.blogspot.com/">pregnant</a>, and with twins! There are a number of "They told me I couldn't conceive on my own" type babies and babies-to-be floating around there on the owners of those blogs.</div><div><br /></div><div>For awhile, I was just reading. Good stories, sad stories, happy people and those still in waiting. But then, I found myself getting more and more involved. I've been thinking a lot about those "next" babies, analyzing my thoughts about in vitro, etc. and caring about it more than I expected. </div><div><br /></div><div>Uh oh. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'll admit it ... I have unresolved issues. So, so, so many. I'm not wanting to get into all that just now, but they're pretty run of the mill (so grateful to have twins, but... wouldn't it be nice to just have one. To be pregnant, for a full nine months. To try breastfeeding again. To have a vaginal birth. To be able to run around with just one baby strapped to my chest. Not that I ever strapped both of the twins to me at the same time...wouldn't that have been a sight!)</div><div><br /></div><div>Now comes the time in a toddler's life, when mom and dad start relaxing. Wow, they feed themselves. They follow basic instructions. They can climb in the car by themselves. Most importantly...they go to preschool three mornings a week! And at this point in a toddler's life, mom and dad might start thinking that this is a good time to bring Jr. a little brother or sister. Imagine, the joys of a two-sibling house, and what fun will be had by all!</div><div><br /></div><div>About nine months ago, this was quite obviously the thought on the minds of all my friends. I developed a close group of girlfriends when the babies were tiny, and we all had our first child/children about the same time. Three of the five have "fallen pregnant" with their second child (the other two had twins, like me), and two babies have thus been delivered in the past three weeks. One to come later this spring.</div><div><br /></div><div>Months ago, when my very minor baby pangs started making themselves apparent, I decided these friend's new offspring would provide a litmus test for me. I would feel their growing bellies, quiz them about pregnancy symptoms the second time around, lend them my fabulous and little-worn maternity wardrobe, and finally, hold their newborns and stare thoughtfully into their brand-new faces.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">***INTERRUPTION **** BABYSITTER ARRIVING **** Going out to movie with husband!!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Many hours later ...</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Back to my test. If, when the babies cry or squirm, I want to give them back to their mommies, perhaps it's a sign that I desire no additional babies. If I just want to love them and squeeze them tighter, maybe I should think twice about this.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've been about 50/50 thus far, and it scares the crap out of me.</div><div><br /></div><div>To put it bluntly, I've been stalking my husband in bed, and when I felt the twinge, the mettelschmerz, I pounced. Today, I perused the lower shelf of my medicine cabinet, where I found my old sharps container. I fondled it, I tell you. And a blue vinyl case with the pen and extra needle tips. I got excited. How awful.</div><div><br /></div><div>I really don't want to do IVF again, and i don't think that will change. But niggling in the back of my mind, is the hope that it <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">just happens on it's own.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div>Who knows, I'll probably feel different next week. Or not.</div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-21678505239757257962008-09-01T18:11:00.002-04:002008-09-01T18:15:09.651-04:00Life is GoodIf anybody is still checking in (why in the world would you be?), I have a new blog:<div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.aspiringartistry.typepad.com">http://www.aspiringartistry.typepad.com</a></div><div><br /></div><div>I am finally (what, after two years of having children?) finding peace with my life as a mother, a stay-at-home-mother at that. I've struggled with my identity, who am I now? I realize that life comes in stages, and I need to embrace this current one.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, I'm embracing my creative side, and am enjoying it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">immensely</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>The twins are delightful - two years and full of joy, defiance, and always something new. I am struggling with the questions about more children - my husband would like an answer now, and I'm not prepared to say yes or no definitively, although I am leaning in one direction. </div><div><br /></div><div>But we shall see .. I'm embracing life as I know it now.</div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-64343644442399865812007-11-17T13:13:00.000-05:002007-11-17T13:15:42.635-05:00ClosureBreaking up is hard to do.<br /><br />Sometimes it's an angry occasion - perhaps you've been cheated on, or maybe betrayed in some unforgivable way. You hurl dishware, or maybe a wedding ring. You yell. You scream. You're mean to each other in the way we shouldn't treat other human beings.<br /><br />Other times it's sad and devastating. Maybe you've been taken off guard, dumped without warning. Consolation comes in the form of good friends, copious bottles of wine, and many, many pints of Ben & Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk.<br /><br />Sometimes it just happens. It's sad, but it's okay for everyone involved. Perhaps a mutual interest or friend that initially drew you together no longer exists. Maybe one of you has accepted a job that's consuming all his time and focus. You treasure the time you spent together, but recognize that it's time to go your separate ways. You'll bump into each other at cocktail parties, and hear news of each other from friends, and you'll certainly Google each other (secretly, of course) to see what's going on in life. It's the happiest of sad endings, but the photo album that you filled with memories of the two of you together still remains on your shelf, and is browsed through frequently.<br /><br />I had a bit of an epiphany today. The kids were up, dressed, fed, and playing happily in the kitchen. I, on the other hand, was still in my pajamas, still nappy and unkempt. I dreaded knowing that, since J is out of town, I had to take the kids up to my bedroom with me and try to keep them out of the toilet water and somewhat entertained while I attempted to dress and make myself up for the day.<br /><br />And then I realized what I could do. We marched down to their bedroom, picked out a few special toys, made sure the door to the attached bath was closed, and then I slowly and quietly exited the room and shut the door. I was able to have 10 minutes to myself, and they were fine. Yes, their room was a wreck when I came back, but all was well. They were happy, entertained, and I actually looked and felt pretty good.<br /><br />They're growing up. They have opinions, MyGirl says "No!" with frequency, and MyBoy is turning into a devastatingly charming little boy. My days and nights focus so much on them, and not on so many of the other sad and scary thoughts that used to fill my mind. Life is good. We are so happy. <br /><br />I constantly compose posts in my head, yet they never make it to page or screen. This was my journal of want, of waiting, and finally of success. I think it's time for us to move on.<br /><br />I have some thoughts about another blog, and if you want to know I'll be happy to share with you when the time comes. In some freaky way, I'm addicted to your lives and stories, so if you're on my blogroll, I'll be checking in on you just like I used to. <br /><br />I wish you all heath and happiness, peace and resolution, and an end to your waiting, whatever it may be for.laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-48998304648057485202007-10-28T13:04:00.000-04:002007-10-28T17:09:08.535-04:00Bath Toys<div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em>The best</em></strong> toys for children in the tub, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">recommended</span> (I think) by </span></span><a href="http://allthis.typepad.com/allthis/"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Emmie</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">. Guarantees many consecutive minutes of concentrated play, pouring water on ones own head and on ones brother's or sister's head. </span><br /></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Originally intended to direct soup into a jar or leftovers into a Tupperware, they also encourage children to try and "catch" the water. Allows mommy to catch a few minutes to peruse a favorite magazine:</span> </span></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggkQPnbWk9iBcfKjQ71DYXw7tYdQ1g_GojhdMqO_q7KE7RIC6wK1fWBSxpETpEQX__nbQteNJn5VdFx0aQLo3QVVZ2IhwZm3rYSvWJXGSSzMrO-OLt3ZCTHhqoPHzJ1YgHHx4I/s1600-h/Funnel.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126496416116060434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggkQPnbWk9iBcfKjQ71DYXw7tYdQ1g_GojhdMqO_q7KE7RIC6wK1fWBSxpETpEQX__nbQteNJn5VdFx0aQLo3QVVZ2IhwZm3rYSvWJXGSSzMrO-OLt3ZCTHhqoPHzJ1YgHHx4I/s200/Funnel.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;"></p></span><br /><br /><div align="left"><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjyZDQf1owxv9vojj3pG_zuA3vk-NdSU7HKc-HOJL7XjeqXwIT1p1mGAO4P_Ac_BVJ87aHiFOVNfh8qI-mgAFeRtvPbpzQxD2so_6EV860vx4UchXGHDsTDP6zOnHnVKKIXhW5/s1600-h/Funnel.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></a></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><strong></strong></em></span></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><strong></strong></em></span></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><strong><p></p><p><p><br /><br /><p><br /><p><br /><p><br />The best</strong></em> toy for mommy, sitting next to the tub, trying to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">simultaneously</span> supervise <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">bath time</span>, encourage hair washing, discourage beating brother/sister over the head with above referenced toy. </span></span><br /><br /></p></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Originally intended to support child's neck while sleeping in the car, this wonderful toy also supports Mommy's very important orange juice glass full of wine, keeping it from toppling over into the nearby tub:</span> </span><br /></div><p><span style="font-size:85%;"></p></span><br /><div align="left"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126496600799654178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhTQ_Mi_ckHYyOULTGtj26TrEO_k2mvrb1diYyvvnN4l9KOrmi01X_Nxb9qbRT8ASg2COT3R4Xy-jHB_Pn5FHDddLMQYZdyYQInqHVWWuEKDA0ZwzUFhP7JQM7lWG49QtINB5o/s200/Neck.jpg" border="0" /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGbxXNAglk2hA4WYs6wnqNTulZ3UV8IodsTy4zlUF_q4sIIbHoTa-66ilqMB1qUeNb39Ff8oHJ_OqsAI2yQ3XyoddXtt9ELn-XPLfp1jtB0YcckNU0qcj034FbNHZQyr6OYsGY/s1600-h/Neck.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></a></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-64094978715908271332007-10-26T15:25:00.000-04:002007-10-26T16:04:03.519-04:00An Early ThanksgivingI belong to a small group at my church, which I've spoken about here in the past. It's a group of women, all under the age of 40. While it is technically a Bible study group, we do some of that, but also read spiritually-focused literature (some fiction, some non-fiction) and have a wonderful tradition of praying for each other's needs, hard times, and thanksgivings.<br /><br />I am certain that this group, and the prayers and support from each individual woman, played a significant part in the happy fact that I now have two wonderful children. They provided a safe place for me to speak my frustrations at the inability to get pregnant, meet women who'd had similar issues, and support me through my pregnancy and the difficult early months of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">twins</span> lives. It's rather amazing, to me, to be on the 'other side' of the infertility issue (certainly not over it), and to be able to provide some support to women who are in the same spot I was just a few years ago.<br /><br />It was in this group a few weeks ago that we talked about prayer, and specifically, how we pray as individuals. A number of women said that they always pray the Lord's Prayer. Some reverted back to childhood prayers as they lay in bed. And a few of us said that we always start our prayers with our thanksgivings.<br /><br />In thinking about how I pray, which I must admit is a subject I never gave much thought to, I realized that I also give thanks before I ask for anything, for <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">myself</span> or for others. I suppose it's because I have so much to be thankful for.<br /><br />In my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">pre</span>-baby days, I always thanked God for giving me such a wonderful husband and a supportive family, but <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">immediately</span> followed up with a gratuitous and pleading request for children, somehow, somewhere. As time passed, I asked for patience and faith in God, that he knew what was best for our family. Near the end of that particular journey, I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">desperately</span> pleaded to just make it work, make it work. And if it didn't, to please find me the magic cure to coping with more disappointment.<br /><br />I find myself overflowing with thanksgivings in my prayers these days. Sure, I still ask for patience (of a different sort) and wisdom to do the best job I possibly can. But more and more, I list all of the wonderful people, situations, and circumstances in my life, and say thank you for showing me what a lucky woman I am.<br /><br />J was in a serious biking accident a few weeks ago and sustained some really dire injuries. He is on the mend now and should recover okay, but during those early hours after it happened, I thought quite seriously about what my life would be like as a single mother to two young children. Or as a wife to a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">permanently</span> disabled husband, trying to juggle care for all three. I know there are women out there who never imagined themselves in that situation, but now they are.<br /><br />Those emotional and practical thoughts that occupied my mind in the wee hours of the morning have now renewed my gratitude. We all have tough times, we all bitch and moan about the things that go wrong, and I do it as much as anyone else.<br /><br />But I know now, for certain, how very lucky and blessed I am. I hope I will never forget.laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-28266550446538249862007-10-19T19:58:00.000-04:002007-10-19T20:52:34.127-04:00Where I Get The GoodsWhen faced with a new and unfamiliar situation, I turn to research, both qualified and legitimate as well as anecdotal. My experiences with infertility, the exciting (terrifying) news about twins, and then prematurity and all it’s delights led me to books and manuals galore, as well as chick lit type novels for ‘research’ and distraction. And don't forget the fabulous world of Dr. Google, blogs, and every pregnancy/parenting site in existence.<br /><br />Most recently, the challenges have been toddler-related. Woof … this stuff is tough (of course, when compared to the above challenges, this is a piece of cake, it just draws on reserves I didn’t know I had. And frustrates to no end. But hell, it’s not the threat of perpetual barrenness or the insecurity of leaving your babies in the NICU each night.)<br /><br />Toddlers times two. Approaching 18-months, these two delights (terrors) are all over the place. Up, down, around, inside, outside, loud, loud, loud. The good is sooooo good, though. The squeals of happiness, the ‘mama’ and ‘dada,’ the mischievous wheels turning in their head as they decide whether to obey or defy. As a pair, they are adorable. They’ve begun playing Ring Around the Rosy, holding hands when we go out, and ‘giving love’ to each other (hugs and squeals, then rolling on the floor).<br /><br />The challenges are typical, as I understand. MyBoy is clingy beyond description – arms around my legs, head in my lap, and pushing his sister out of my lap. Tantrums happen with great frequency, and his arched back and ear-splitting shouts are like background noise in our house. Early wake-ups (from naps at 2:30, when it used to be 4:00; and in the morning by 6:30, usually 7:30) continue to keep me a bit bleary, and MyBoy pretty cranky. His love/obsession with me, while frustrating, is so endearing that I cannot complain too awfully much – he is so sweet and dear.<br /><br />My sweet girl is attitude through and through. She’s courageous, defiant, curious, and outspoken, yet pretty easygoing. She loves her daddy, and would rather be with him than anywhere, but isn’t pushy about it. She is obsessed with shoes and socks. When she is prematurely woken by her brother’s siren-like screams, she simply rolls on her back, pulls up her blanket, stares at the ceiling as if to say, “What, again?” She demurely smiles when I come into the room, and just after I pick her up, she’ll look around and ask “Dada? Daaaddy?” While she would sleep in if allowed, she’s been really fussy going to sleep at night.<br /><br />So I turn to research. For the instruction-manual-type info, I’ve been reading <a href="http://www.thehappiestbaby.com/store.html#toddler">this book</a>, which likens my toddlers to chimpanzees and Cro-Magnan Man (quite accurately, actually!).<br /><br />For real-life-experience advice, I turn to the ever-present Ask Moxie. I’ve read all about the <a href="http://moxie.blogs.com/askmoxie/2006/04/qa_18month_slee.html">18-month sleep regression</a>, the accompanying <a href="http://moxie.blogs.com/askmoxie/2006/11/qa_18monthold_t.html">18-month grumpy phase</a>, and ever-important controversy on <a href="http://moxie.blogs.com/askmoxie/2006/07/qa_toddler_shoe.html">toddler shoes</a>.<br /><br />And for fun and entertainment, I just finished <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Slummy-Mummy-Fiona-Neill/dp/1594489440">this book</a>, which just made me giggle. Because everyone needs a good laugh every now and again.laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-62218427728241122162007-10-07T12:48:00.000-04:002007-10-07T12:51:47.838-04:00I Do Like Sports, I Swear... Ice Skating and Gymastics.I am <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">eavesdropping</span>, listening to my husband and Male Buddy have a telephone conversation using words and phrases like "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">spanktravision</span>" and "can of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">whoopass</span>."<br /><br />Yes it's football. But <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">WTF</span>? Do people talk like that in real life? I thought it was just on ESPN.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Ahhh</span>, no. I do remember a phase when "taste it, frat boy" was the phrase of choice.<br /><br />God help me until football season is over.laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-91068133517815993412007-10-01T09:32:00.000-04:002007-10-01T09:44:56.348-04:00Such a Total DorkI love this thing.<br /><br />I'll fully admit to being a gadget dork when it comes to cell phones, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">PDAs</span>, digital cameras and basic computer stuff. I grew up with a gadget dork father (our first computer was a Commodore, maybe, hooked up to a small black and white television), and have managed to keep my gadget-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">dorkieness</span> under control. I still secretly read product reviews and dream about what it must be like to have the newest, coolest thing (i*Phone, anyone?).<br /><br />And when one of our gadgets goes on the fritz, I'm first in line to go check out the new ones so that I have a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">truly</span> justified purchase to make. I don't usually give in to new ones, as the gadgets I covet are typically pretty expensive.<br /><br />But I gave in on this (and it wasn't really expensive in comparison to, say, a new laptop or something). And I love it!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsCPFanpBUeUi6SUStqoaLTlMVx6o1uE1gzdUq-d2abgel_4LTAeXqROUj3USU63SVUphQQbeHlzE5rtpOIuBXOd2yjqS4MGAGulT-T0yITFH8IGmLQLGl-TlLNfQYfNyU0Wxk/s1600-h/grocery-list-organizer.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116362173935007346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 177px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 276px" height="242" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsCPFanpBUeUi6SUStqoaLTlMVx6o1uE1gzdUq-d2abgel_4LTAeXqROUj3USU63SVUphQQbeHlzE5rtpOIuBXOd2yjqS4MGAGulT-T0yITFH8IGmLQLGl-TlLNfQYfNyU0Wxk/s320/grocery-list-organizer.gif" width="142" border="0" /></a>You talk to it. It makes your shopping/errand list. Press button, and voila! A little list for you to stuff in your wallet along with all of the other lists!<br /><br />You should have seen me, sitting in my backyard (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">adjacent</span> to a very busy alley with lots of pedestrian traffic), trying to get this thing to recognize my shopping list:<br /><br />"Arugula."<br />"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Aaaa</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ruuuu</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">gaaa</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">laaaa</span>."<br />"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Aa</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">RUUU</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">gela</span>."<br />"Lettuce."<br /><br />I can only imagine what the homeless man, digging through the dirty diapers on top of the pile in my trashcan, hoping for a morsel of goodness, must have thought about the crazy lady speaking nonsense into a grey box instead of whipping out a pencil and paper like the rest of the world.<br /><p></p>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-39669730805349350742007-09-14T14:45:00.000-04:002007-09-14T14:56:15.503-04:00Desperate Times Call for Desperate MeasuresIn anticipation of a party-filled weekend (it's been so, so long since I've said that. In reality, it's just a cocktail party tonight and an engagement party tomorrow night. We are the hosts, however, for the second one.), I thought it best to do a bit of body-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">maintenance</span>.<br /><br />While time is limited during <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">naptime</span>, I thought I could accomplish a brief buffing of the face, removal of nail polish, and repainting of said nails. I took a short, but luxurious bath - including shaving!, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">lotioned</span> down my legs and other <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">potentially</span>-exposed body parts.<br /><br />As I gathered my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">astringent</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">nailpolish</span> remover, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">nailpolish</span>, I realized I was missing one key tool. Cotton balls or pads.<br /><br />I searched through the bathroom, high and low, behind all sorts of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">waaay</span>-expired beauty products, with no luck. But low and behold, on the shelf devoted solely to my lady parts, wedged between the red sharps disposal box and the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Clearbl</span>*e Easy Ovulation Monitor (which, yes, I am using), a barely-used package of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Kot</span>*x pads.<br /><br />From first glance, I thought they were <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">pantyliners</span>, as they were so very thin. But upon closer inspection, I discovered they were indeed ultra-thin pads (I was only a consumer of these oh-so-comfortable products after the birth of the babies...I hate them!).<br /><br />And surprise, surprise. They make remarkably good nail polish remover pads (so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">absorbent</span> when I practically spilled all over my bed!). A bit rough for the facial astringent, but when in a pinch...laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-12743809723905347152007-09-11T20:52:00.000-04:002007-09-12T13:31:28.750-04:00Note to SelfWhen adorable 16 month-old twins rummage through the pantry for a little something to play with, and then pull out a half used envelope of hot chocolate mix and proceed to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">sprinkle</span> it all over the floor and themselves, do not, I repeat DO NOT, be too lazy to pull out the vacuum and then use sopping wet paper towels to clean up the powder.<br /><br />It makes for chocolate babies who thoroughly enjoy licking their own sticky fingers, toes, legs, and arms, as well as all exposed body parts of the other twin.<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"><u>Edited to add:</u></span><br /><br />Additional note for times when children, no matter what, will not follow you into the bathroom/kitchen/bedroom/car:<br /><br />A small laser pointer, intended to stupify your felines, is the perfect tool for corraling small toddlers. Follow the red dot...laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-75368339568193266142007-09-04T12:31:00.000-04:002007-09-04T12:51:58.311-04:00This Duck is Stuck ...We have a box of "conversation questions" that sits in our dining room. I'm sure you've seen them - nicely printed square cards, encased in a cool <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Lucite</span> cube. The questions are usually interesting, and sometimes J & I pull one from the box, and each of us answer it.<br /><br />A recent question was "What are your top three pet peeves?" I jumped on this one, as I usually have so many that I cannot limit it to just three. But for the sake of the game, I managed to choose my top annoying pet peeves. As follows:<br /><br /><strong><u>Chewing. People who chew loud.</u></strong><br />Not crunchy loud - you just can help making some noise when biting into a crispy potato chip, and I certainly don't begrudge anyone the right to crunch into a taco. I mean mouth noises. You know the noise ... wet, smacking, gooey noises. Gross. I grew up with loud chewers, and refuse to deal with it as an adult.<br /><br /><strong><u>Diagonal walkers.</u></strong><br />When I'm in the car, and I politely stop to allow someone to cross the street (with or without a crosswalk or stop sign), the walker, instead of taking the direct route across the street (straight!), chooses to meaner diagonally from point A to point B. This <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">leisurely</span> stroll results in me, having tried to do something nice, cursing the walker and vowing to never again give right of way to a pedestrian. It's wrong, I know, especially since I myself am I diagonal walker.<br /><br /><strong><u>Obviously poor grammar/spelling.</u></strong><br />Again, I'm sure I've been an offender as well as the offended, but I just can't let it go. Tops on my list are <em>there</em> vs. <em>their</em>, ending <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">sentences</span> with prepositions, and <em>that </em>vs. <em>which.</em><br /><br />As we all know (don't we??), you use <em>which</em> following a comma, and <em>that</em> when no comma is used. Wait ... let me pull out my <u>AP Style Manual</u> ... it is quite old (1996), but I'm sure the rules haven't changed ...<br /><br />Ah ha! It all goes back to essential and non-essential clauses. <em>That</em> is preferred for essential clauses. Do not uses commas for essential clauses. <em>Which</em> is preferred for non-essential clauses. Use commas for a non-essential clause.<br /><br />Now let me pull out a favorite children's book <u>Duck in the Truck</u>. It has topped our most-read list of late, and each time I read it, I am painfully aware of the following passages:<br /><br /><em>This is the Duck driving home in a truck.</em><br /><em>This is the track which is taking him back. </em><br /><em></em><br />Teeth grinding ... must continue reading ... children love this book ...<br /><br /><em>These are the feet which jump the Duck down</em><br /><em>into the muck, all yucky and brown.</em><br /><em></em><br />So my question is, would I be considered totally anal-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">retentive</span> if I was to correct the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">grammar</span> in my children's board books??laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-20324723405053459672007-08-21T10:31:00.000-04:002007-08-21T10:45:42.138-04:00Help with a Sensitive IssueThere is a tough issue going on in our world, and I could use any thoughts, advice, experience or <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">guidance</span>.<br /><br />I have a dear old friend who is going through a horrible ordeal, and I'm not sure how to deal with it. She and her husband started trying to conceive not too long after J & I. After two <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">IVFs</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">PGD</span>, and who knows what else, they were lucky enough to conceive twins.<br /><br />I found out recently that, due to a condition the parents didn't specify, one of the twins is not going to survive after birth. It will continue to grow in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">utero</span>, though. They are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">approximately</span> four months along.<br /><br />I am <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">devastated</span> for them, and for this horrible trauma, surrounded by the joy of a much-wanted child, they will all have to endure. I cannot stop thinking about how parents deal with a pregnancy that will <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">inevitably</span> have such a sad outcome, while <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">maintaining</span> the excitement about bringing home a healthy child. How do they deal with well-wishers who have no idea? How do they deal with the daily conversations about the pregnancy? How can they create positive memories and have a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">meaningful</span> experience surrounding the conception and birth, and death, of these children?<br /><br />I could go on and on, I think about this constantly, and have a hard time speaking about it. I think how it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">could've</span> been me, and how can someone bear such pain? More to my immediate point, though, is how I can be supportive.<br /><br />I want to help her celebrate this pregnancy and these children, but I don't know how. I haven't spoken with her since this news, just a very brief email, but I want to be prepared when I do. Someone asked me recently about wanting to get her a gift for the baby, and I gently reminded them that there will be two babies. She will give birth to two babies. And only bring one home.<br /><br />God, I can't even write this without crying ... I'm so sad for her...<br /><br />Any thoughts or experiences? I don't want to avoid her out of my own discomfort, and she needs as much love as possible.laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-36603865462247118762007-08-17T20:55:00.000-04:002007-08-17T21:15:54.680-04:00Naptimes: Two to OneI thought it would be so easy. So simple, more like when we switched from three naps to two. But this process has been a bit more difficult that I expected, probably because it's a bit too early for them to give up one nap, and because I haven't been as diligent as I should. We started on Monday, July 23, and I suspect we're almost finished with the transition ... one can hope!<br /><br /><a href="http://almost_home.typepad.com/">Caroline </a>asked for more information about the nap-switch, so I am happy to oblige.<br /><br />On the two-nap schedule, the twins were waking up around 7 a.m., nap at 9 a.m., nap at 2 p.m., and bedtime around 7 p.m. My goal was to push the morning nap later and later, and shorten the afternoon nap shorter and shorter, until they meet in the middle, more or less (technique courtesy <a href="http://moxie.blogs.com/askmoxie/">Moxie</a>).<br /><br />The first day went like this:<br /><br />Out of bed: 8:00 <em>(what crazy luck!)<br /></em>Breakfast: 9:00<br />In bed for nap: 10:30 – 12 noon<br />Lunch: 12:15<br />Play, errands, snack, Children’s Museum<br />Nap in Car: 3:40-4:20<br />Dinner: 6:00<br />In bed: 7:30<br /><br />A week later (July 30), here's how a day went:<br /><br />Out of bed: 8:00<br />Breakfast: 8:30<br />Activity: B&N, pet store (<em>a thwarted attempt at bookstore <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">storytime</span> ended up at the pet store)</em><br />Home & snack<br />In bed for nap: 11-12:30<br />Lunch: 12:45<br />Activity: play with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">grandmom</span> & snack<br />Nap in bed: 3:45-4:45<br />Dinner : 5:30<br />In bed: 7:30<br /><br />And here's how today (August 17) went:<br /><br />Out of bed: 8:00<br />Breakfast: 8:30<br />Play: 9:00 - 11:30 (snack in their somewhere)<br />Lunch: 11:30<br />Nap: 12-2<br />Snack at 3:30<br />Dinner at 5:30<br />Bedtime at 7:30<br /><br />I had a really hard time enforcing the very short early evening nap, because I so enjoyed the peaceful, quiet time to myself (or do get dinner ready!). I often let them sleep quite a while (4-5:30 or so), which is why I started out just driving them around in the car. That worked quite well when J was out of town for so long, but got old quickly, once someone was expecting an adult dinner!<br /><br />Luckily, I had a babysitter this morning, who brought her toddler son over, so it helped to keep the kids awake and busy when they would normally be tired. I'm really hoping that today was the big hump they needed to get over it, and that perhaps we'll start having some of those long, luxurious afternoon naps I keep hearing about.<br /><br />More to come soon: the exciting results of the 15 month checkup (which happened closer to 16 months), and thought about the big 'more babies?' question...laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-91265089305390717912007-08-08T19:44:00.000-04:002007-08-08T19:44:07.339-04:00Faking ItEver since J took his big trip (did I tell you where? That great northern state that is above Canada!), we've tried to take some solo-baby time. Meaning I take one child and he takes the other, and we go about our business. This is usually on the weekend, but occasionally in the late afternoon during the week if he's come home early.<br /><br /><br />I like to pretend sometimes that I only have one child.<br /><br /><br />There, I said it. I feel bad for saying it, but it's true. And it's kind of fun - to pretend to live like everyone else does. Like my friends do. Oh, I have fifteen errands to run, but it's no big deal because my ONE BABY is really easy and happy, and I can just pop him/her out of the car seat and go into a store without a stroller! (If I did go in with a double stroller and just one child, it might look kinda funny, right?)<br /><br />So last week I was determined to Get Stuff Done Outside The House. With a child. Which is something I don't usually try to do, because between food, schedules, strollers, and gear, it can be fairly overwhelming.<br /><br />I first took MyBoy out for errand time. He was wonderful - peaceful and happy, always smiling and looking around, pointing and grunting as he does. And we got so much done, but by the end, I was lagging. That child is heavy, waaaaay heavy, and he doesn't hold on with his legs, so it's basically like toting a bag of lard around on your hip.<br /><br />The next time, I took MyGirl, thinking hey, this chick is tiny and light, with the grip of a vice. And she was equally as delightful, plus more. The girl was so happy to be out alone with me, and was entranced with everything she saw, everyone that paid attention to her, pretty much everything. And she wanted to touch it, feel it, eat it, pull it, or poke it.<br /><br />On our girl's day, I was out to look for a few cute new outfits to take on my upcoming Girl's Weekend. We went from boutique to boutique and I had more and more trouble trying to keep her contained, especially in the dressing room. We ended up exiting all the cute stores rather quickly, and guess where we ended up?<br /><br />The regular backup shopping excursion...Target. Might as well have had both babes with me!laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-44522372442810495472007-08-07T11:56:00.000-04:002007-08-07T11:57:30.515-04:00A Very Long Two-Week WaitI’m feeling victorious.<br /><br />Three weeks ago, I was full of dread and angst as my husband began packing for a two-week adventure. Without me. Without the twins.<br /><br />Which of course means that we would be left here to fend for ourselves. Now, I’m used to <a href="http://imwaiting.blogspot.com/2007/02/grass-is-always-greener.html">taking care of the kids by myself</a> during the day, but I really look forward to the evening when J comes home and plays with the kids while I make dinner. And, obviously, the adult companionship and such.<br /><br />It was a hard two weeks, but we managed by doing things that were different and keeping busy. We went to a friend’s house for dinner, visited practically every park in the area, and went to the zoo. Surprisingly, it was a fairly solitary few weeks in that visits from my mom were noticeably absent, our regular playgroup was cancelled, and lots of friends seemed to be out of town. However, I did manage to get a sitter a few times to have a girl’s night out and attend a few meetings. Oh, and we made it to church.<br /><br />I was surprised at how little I actually got accomplished, for myself. My time was simply spent maintaining the existing atmosphere as opposed to starting/completing new projects. More time cleaning, doing laundry, cooking, and stuff like that. I fell into bed exhausted, and quite early, each and every night.<br /><br />I did read a few books, which I haven’t been able to do lately, and have semi-accomplished a big task for the twins.<br /><br />They are starting a two-morning-a-week preschool in the fall, and I’ve been paranoid about their naptime. They don’t adapt well to schedule changes, so I know that can’t just show up in September and expect them to be fine without a morning nap.<br /><br />So my goal while J was gone was to start the transition to one nap a day. Previously, naps were at 9 & 2, each for about 1 ½ - 2 hours. I’ve gradually started pushing that morning nap further and further, and now they’re going down at 11. As that first nap started getting later and later, the second nap was to get shorter and shorter. So my plan was to exhaust them during the afternoon (hence all the playground/park trips) and then let them have a 30-40 minute nap around 4:00 or so. Since we were usually out and about, I just let them have that nap in the car as we drove home or just drove around listening to music.<br /><br />It was going really well, until J got home. Now, they’re still going down for nap at 11, but the afternoons have been really quite horrible and I can’t figure out why. Yesterday, they wouldn’t take an afternoon nap, stayed up happily at a friend’s house until 9:00 p.m. (unheard of!), and still woke up at 7:00 a.m.!! Luckily, we’ve still got about three weeks to get it all worked out before school starts … I really think it’ll be fine.<br /><br />It was, all in all, a really challenging two weeks, and I thought often about the women for whom this is just a fact of life, not a blip in their schedule. We women are strong, aren’t we? I wonder how men would handle being alone with two children for 14 days straight?<br /><br />J won’t have the chance for two full weeks, but will get to try his hand at it this weekend, as I take off for a much-anticipated girl’s weekend!laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-81476506007198947552007-07-28T11:07:00.000-04:002007-07-28T20:57:50.880-04:00What We Love<span style="font-family:verdana;">We love this book. "We" being MyBoy and MyGirl. I, on the other hand, am sick to death of it. They bring me this book every naptime, every time we play in their room, every bedtime. They will cry and scream and protest, unless I read it through. Many, many times over.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZgFY6IHPXF16S5xxP1553aYXcHJFoj_kZ5riHa1YzhvtGpXC42qFBFVqHKhj5C8_W_g7e55i2io2sntcfZKsU9oGoR0wn44QnQ8Bl_TuSW2kZffTK6S09d8KQOdXcp5BR37sa/s1600-h/July07+252.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092268499308274082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 351px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 293px" height="133" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZgFY6IHPXF16S5xxP1553aYXcHJFoj_kZ5riHa1YzhvtGpXC42qFBFVqHKhj5C8_W_g7e55i2io2sntcfZKsU9oGoR0wn44QnQ8Bl_TuSW2kZffTK6S09d8KQOdXcp5BR37sa/s320/July07+252.jpg" width="208" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></p></span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlqrng_Y4bVZnh4Gs0ah-vdsV-Do7dy35pegG_0oOQkueN8Skp2mNM2yGYb5KHEQTcPcERSf6ZSwQBdBMqlyZv5RXxjSwgJuHlV0oW6sgoumxVlhAn-eMKDzRHVDnVFRRxs1qY/s1600-h/July07+254.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlqrng_Y4bVZnh4Gs0ah-vdsV-Do7dy35pegG_0oOQkueN8Skp2mNM2yGYb5KHEQTcPcERSf6ZSwQBdBMqlyZv5RXxjSwgJuHlV0oW6sgoumxVlhAn-eMKDzRHVDnVFRRxs1qY/s1600-h/July07+254.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092268928805003698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 224px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 191px" height="174" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlqrng_Y4bVZnh4Gs0ah-vdsV-Do7dy35pegG_0oOQkueN8Skp2mNM2yGYb5KHEQTcPcERSf6ZSwQBdBMqlyZv5RXxjSwgJuHlV0oW6sgoumxVlhAn-eMKDzRHVDnVFRRxs1qY/s320/July07+254.jpg" width="247" border="0" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><p> <p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><p><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“This baby wants her mommy … ma ma!” “This baby is hungry … yum yum!” "This baby is hiding ..... peekaboo!" “This mama wants a break … yahoo!” </p></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><p></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"></p></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">As the pages are slowly disintegrating, and are dutifully repaired with white duct tape, I realize ( hope! ) that perhaps it will one day be unrepairable. Because we have many, many more baby-picture books waiting in the wings. </span><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">* * * * * * * * * * * * * </span></p><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">MyGirl and MyBoy are getting very good at following some basic instructions. I almost can't believe that they actually understand me ... it's like I thought they'd be infantile forever. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">They can touch their noses, clap their hands, "wash" their hair, find their belly and a few other things. Amazingly, I thought it was great that they can take their wrapped up diapers to the diaper pail (the non-poopy ones, of course). </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Until this: </span></p><p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_C52UhyZDGxp405A9qNVQnRYnIlkCMz5t2lUO6Y-ZNoJ-KCOZZjNAagXI8fNugZ3LI75V_R4vlX8IA8UP7Y40Tw1Bq2oeS-qssJvX0c1oM_BJ9D6tVC5Ope-49J96z9i0N7TB/s1600-h/July07-287.web..jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092274855859872242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 285px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 347px" height="338" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_C52UhyZDGxp405A9qNVQnRYnIlkCMz5t2lUO6Y-ZNoJ-KCOZZjNAagXI8fNugZ3LI75V_R4vlX8IA8UP7Y40Tw1Bq2oeS-qssJvX0c1oM_BJ9D6tVC5Ope-49J96z9i0N7TB/s320/July07-287.web..jpg" width="267" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><p><p><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">While I wish that they had just put their wrapped-up diapers in the Diaper Champ, it was not so. It was sippy cup and Green Frog. Nice.</span></p>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-84663794017706148582007-07-26T11:49:00.000-04:002007-07-26T11:58:12.132-04:00Two Evils?Wow. The 11 a.m. viewing hour in my area has two main network choices: Rachel Ray or The View. I'm usually not watching television at this hour, but due to our nap-in-flux schedule, I've found myself checking email, doing dishes, folding laundry, getting lunch prepared, or something equally thrilling.<br /><br />I started watching RR when the babes were little, and they had an 11 a.m. feeding. They'd be <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">propped</span> in their bouncy seats, me perched in between with a bottle in each hand. Enjoying 20 minutes or so of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">uninterrupted</span> gab and cooking. I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">immediately</span> started to tire of RR and her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">bountiful</span> enthusiasm for, like, everything!! Including her dog! Oprah! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">EVOO</span>! Yum-o, everyone!<br /><br />Now I've never watched The View. I never understood why <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Bawbwa</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Wawa</span> annoyed so many people, why Rosie was good/<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">moderately</span> bad/evil, and what the heck is up with Elizabeth?<br /><br />I sit here trying out The View, and poor Martin Sheen is plopped down in the middle of four catty, catty ladies, looking <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">every bit</span> as uncomfortable as I'm sure he feels. I can't watch .... what are these women even talking about?...It just sounds like blah, blah, blah, blah.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Ugg</span>. Back to RR. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Ohh</span>... cute {but dead} guy from Grey's Anatomy. And Weeds. Yum-o!laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-6055852523238764972007-07-22T15:03:00.000-04:002007-07-22T15:24:29.323-04:00Quest for the Perfect Lunchblock*<strong>Subtitle: Healthy food that toddlers <em>might</em> each.</strong><br /><br />Seriously, I came across <a href="http://www.alittlepregnant.com/alittlepregnant/2006/02/lunchblock.html">Julie's <em>eureka! </em>idea</a>* for a toddler-friendly pasta that is easy to self-feed when I was reading <a href="http://twinproject.blogspot.com/2007/07/baby-food-without-extra-kitchen-time.html">Emma B.'s great post</a> about her fruitful morning in the kitchen. It's been in my head for a few weeks, and I finally got the stuff together to get it done yesterday.<br /><br />And I'm so disappointed ... I can't figure out what I did wrong. Well, I might know, but I could use some hints from anyone who's been <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">successful</span> in the creating of the ideal <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Lunchblock</span>.<br /><br /><strong>First try:</strong> Using a generic brand wagon-wheel pasta and a name-brand Alfredo pasta sauce. I crammed the leftovers into a container and waited. Of course, it fell apart when I tried to slice it. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Should've</span> followed Julie's directions.<br /><br /><strong>Second try:</strong> I purchased a variety of Annie's shells and cheese, and for this attempt, I used the <a href="http://www.annies.com/products/orgmexican.html">Mild Mexican</a> flavored one. Of course, I assumed that it is created like any other mac & cheese, so I returned the cooked and drained shells to the pan, added the milk and butter, and poured on the powder. I stirred it all up and added some peas, then shoved it in a container. When I found excess space in the container, I stuffed a piece of bread on top and pressed the lid on. Surely it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">should've</span> worked ... right? Well, it certainly took on the block shape, and sliced well, but fell apart when the babes tried to eat it. Tons of little shells all over the place.<br /><br />So I guess I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">should've</span> followed the cooking instructions, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">omitted</span> the peas, which might have impeded the stickiness of it all.<br /><br /><strong>Third Try:</strong> I did it all right ... this time I went for the tried-and-true <a href="http://www.annies.com/products/orgagedched.html">orange cheddar </a>variety, and eschewed any veggie add-ins. I followed the directions religiously, adding the prescribed amount of milk and butter, mixing the sauce <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">separately</span>, and pouring on top of the cooked shells, then mixing it up.<br /><br />I stuffed a container in the same manner, and yes, it was a great block. Great shape, slices, chunks. I was so excited that I'd found the perfect, easy meal ... and alas, it fell apart in their fingers. Now I have little pieces of orange and white shells dotting my dining room carpet. Yes, I know I should vacuum. Or get a dog.<br /><br />But really, what am I doing wrong? I did use whole milk vs. skim, and I added 1 tsp butter vs. the 2 that's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">recommended</span> on the box, but that couldn't be it, could it? Now I feel very challenged to figure this out ...laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-909612645799523502007-07-13T15:16:00.001-04:002007-07-13T15:23:10.445-04:00Rh Factor & MiscarriageA quick posting with some bad news and hopes of help from anyone who may have experience ...<br />My dear, sweet sister has had her second miscarriage in 10 years. She has no children, and was not planning any pregnancies, but was excited at the prospect.<br /><br />I'm piecing together the details, as we haven't spoken in depth, but while at the hospital enduring a D&C, they told her she was Rh negative. She is overwhelmed, crushed, scared ...<br /><br />Does anyone have any expereinces or resources I can share with her? What does this mean for her future and hopefully, planned pregnancies? My computer is being wanky and slow and incompaible for searching.laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-35614728123179445832007-07-11T19:18:00.000-04:002007-07-12T14:26:34.037-04:00Bottles & Nipples & Pumps, Oh My!I started to write a comment to answer Hopeful Mother's <a href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15344492&postID=8583679917140065074">questions</a> about bottles and such, and realized it'd be better addressed here, rather than writing a book in the comments.<br /><br />Let me preface my advice with the disclaimer that different things work for different babies. What worked for my twins might be wrong for yours. You often have to try out different brands, products, etc. before you find what works for you.<br /><br />And obviously, breastfeeding makes all of this a moot point, and is totally ideal. But I'll be honest. Many (not all) mothers of twins find <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">exclusively</span> breastfeeding twins to be an exhausting and daunting task and find that supplementing (either with pumped milk or formula) gives a little bit of respite. I breastfed / pumped for four months, and still ended up with all this stuff!<br /><br />Hopeful Mother sounds pretty darn prepared. I had one bottle 'starter kit' and that was it, as I didn't anticipate preemies that couldn't nurse and five weeks in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">NICU</span>.<br /><br />I started with plain old <a href="http://www.drugstore.com/products/prod.asp?pid=70666&catid=96601&trx=PLST-0-SEARCH&trxp1=96601&trxp2=70666&trxp3=1&trxp4=0&btrx=BUY-PLST-0-SEARCH"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Avent</span> bottles</a>, and really liked them. I bought an "<a href="http://www.drugstore.com/products/prod.asp?pid=149884&catid=26912&trx=PLST-0-SEARCH&amp;trxp1=26912&trxp2=149884&trxp3=1&trxp4=0&btrx=BUY-PLST-0-SEARCH">adapter kit</a>," made by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Avent</span>, that let me pump directly into the bottles. (I used a <a href="http://www.medela.com/NewFiles/pumps_hosp.html#symphony_bp">hospital grade <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Medela</span> pump</a>). I started out with the small size (4 oz), wide-necked bottles, and moved up to the larger 8-oz bottles as needed. All the caps/nipples work with both.<br /><br />I had two very gassy babies, and one with really bad reflux, and when it finally got really bad, I was willing to try anything. Enter the slender <a href="http://www.handi-craft.com/">Dr. Brown's </a>bottles, which are reputed to alleviate gas/air bubbles. I found that they <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">absolutely</span> helped with my twins' symptoms. However ... it's a bit like setting up a crack lab, what with all the bottles, tubes, stoppers, etc. These bottles take the smaller, standard size nipples.<br /><br />Personally, I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">preferred</span> using the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Avent</span> bottles for a number of reasons. (1) They were easier to hold on to, and I imagine once the babies were old enough, they'd be easy for them to hold on to, also. (2) <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Avent</span> makes more accessories, like the <a href="http://www.drugstore.com/products/prod.asp?pid=149884&catid=26912&trx=PLST-0-SEARCH&trxp1=26912&amp;trxp2=149884&trxp3=1&trxp4=0&btrx=BUY-PLST-0-SEARCH">pump adapters</a>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">sippy</span> cup inserts, etc. (3) It was easier to mix formula right in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Avent</span> bottle, since it's roomier. (4) Less parts to wash! (in comparison to the Dr. Browns). But then again, they just didn't work for gassy, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">refluxy</span> babies.<br /><br /><br />I think it's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">absolutely</span> okay to use second-hand bottles, just make sure to run them through the '<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">sanitize</span>' cycle on your dishwasher before use. I might invest in new nipples, though, just to be on the safe side, and make sure I'm using the right flow levels -- it's awful hard to read the tiny numbers imprinted on the side of the nipple.<br /><br />In terms of pacifiers, I consider myself lucky. They started the babies on the very small <a href="http://www.soothie-pacifier.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Soothie</span> pacifiers</a> in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">NICU</span>, and they came in handy ... whenever they had to do a potentially painful or uncomfortable procedure on the babies (inserting a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">pik</span> line or something similar), they dipped the pacifier in a glucose solution, and it calmed/distracted the babies. One nurse called it "morphine for preemies."<br /><br />They came home with the pacifiers, and used them to go to sleep and to soothe. But they were rarely disturbed or awoken when the pacifier fell out .. it never was a problem. We never had "nipple confusion" problems. And then one day, it just wasn't necessary anymore, and away they went. Maybe around five or six months old? But regardless, during the time they used them, I stocked up so that I had at least four at any given time or location.<br /><br />So, I think that answers all <a href="http://hopefulmother.blogspot.com/">Hopeful Mother</a>'s questions (and probably more than she wanted to know). In my opinion (and in hindsight), I think the best advice is to be prepared, and be open to trying different things. I think this applies to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">breastfeeding</span>, pumping, and bottle feeding, but also to how you raise your child/children in general. We all think we're going to do things a certain way, and maybe we will. Maybe we won't. Maybe we'll learn from our experiences, and those of all the mothers before us, try things that are beyond our comfort zone, and stretch ourselves. Because children do nothing if not make us more than flexible.laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-85836799171400650742007-07-09T23:58:00.000-04:002007-07-10T00:14:50.367-04:00<strong>What NOT TO DO When You're Expecting Twins</strong> <div><div><div><br /></div><div>Do not feel the need to stock up on every possible brand of bottle. Every possible size nipple. Every existing design of pacifier. Any potential <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">sippy</span> cup your child might like. And whatever you do, please resist the plethora of bottles, bags, etc. that they give you when discharging your babies from the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">NICU</span>. </div><div><br /> </div><div>Once your twins are home, and you feel housebound, yet at the same time yearning to see other members of the adult human race, and perhaps drooling at the mouth just to have a civil conversation with a checkout clerk, do not, I repeat, DO NOT go to T*<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">rget</span> and buy the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">afore</span> mentioned items in even larger <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">quantities</span>, just in case you need more. If you find yourself exhausted and tired of washing bottles around the clock, DO NOT think that having even more, so that you only have to wash them every other day, is acceptable.</div><div><br /></div><div>Because if you do not heed my warnings, you'll find yourself, 14 months later, in the odd position of, not having yet decided if these two delightful toddlers are enough to satisfy your maternal urges or if perhaps you might like to take another ride on the mind-bending <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">roller coaster</span> called INFERTILITY, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">IVF</span>, and DEALING WITH NEWBORN(S), figuring out what the hell to do with all this <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">paraphernalia</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Alas, you will pack it up, carefully organized and labeled, and decide that this is a decision better left to another day.</div><div><br /></div><div>For your consideration:</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Y_mcq9LaA5izQbyuHDd_wXN8A0kkrgpvmTJmQm9jC4OvL8cYPkWn2a7UF3M17WFt9fge9yolYXAYX0oXECgPUoT_7TTmAjlqbBkVOVfl2ZvIjIsGiA-AI9YhcroPezOYsJ4O/s1600-h/Packing+Up.July07+006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085415146144601506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 315px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 262px" height="200" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Y_mcq9LaA5izQbyuHDd_wXN8A0kkrgpvmTJmQm9jC4OvL8cYPkWn2a7UF3M17WFt9fge9yolYXAYX0oXECgPUoT_7TTmAjlqbBkVOVfl2ZvIjIsGiA-AI9YhcroPezOYsJ4O/s400/Packing+Up.July07+006.jpg" width="253" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDxUkYeQXfAGrqLLBkiYkHdmXi-wcupRvtIZgoJfhNbTgkbD7K0bilIWly7cwbnLBzCXgEs-tekMCcgTBa-9QNkHDwOoRHQuWem4oM0cxNQoiilNhao9Rd0MN4_P3OJShQfAXb/s1600-h/Packing+Up.July07+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085415399547671986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 332px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px" height="202" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDxUkYeQXfAGrqLLBkiYkHdmXi-wcupRvtIZgoJfhNbTgkbD7K0bilIWly7cwbnLBzCXgEs-tekMCcgTBa-9QNkHDwOoRHQuWem4oM0cxNQoiilNhao9Rd0MN4_P3OJShQfAXb/s400/Packing+Up.July07+002.jpg" width="289" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJVCkmoS09ps_NMT10jmuGFgiMXMHZWvNhSwdCE4pzKo8kTxW4UESZzqECqK11wUCR5ZneiTFV3mY9b6Um5U44RuYuE90qPOD4U1JRXJF4O4lxwYn-rbj52aWi9esFpHSFtOL8/s1600-h/Packing+Up.July07+008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085415923533682130" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="177" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJVCkmoS09ps_NMT10jmuGFgiMXMHZWvNhSwdCE4pzKo8kTxW4UESZzqECqK11wUCR5ZneiTFV3mY9b6Um5U44RuYuE90qPOD4U1JRXJF4O4lxwYn-rbj52aWi9esFpHSFtOL8/s400/Packing+Up.July07+008.jpg" width="269" border="0" /></a></p><div><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2EC5SpBHCN7idQiUszGwQzNcmAcBKAgjHBc_F3_Vrnd2Keylmb6j5KKG1e3NGxs0XgF6Gt9L7QbMj0pZvJzhPuPS4PNCX1LkIGJD8N1Toh597FMPaNx5Wt-erI2suPXz0PCis/s1600-h/Packing+Up.July07+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085415678720546242" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="248" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2EC5SpBHCN7idQiUszGwQzNcmAcBKAgjHBc_F3_Vrnd2Keylmb6j5KKG1e3NGxs0XgF6Gt9L7QbMj0pZvJzhPuPS4PNCX1LkIGJD8N1Toh597FMPaNx5Wt-erI2suPXz0PCis/s400/Packing+Up.July07+004.jpg" width="342" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2EC5SpBHCN7idQiUszGwQzNcmAcBKAgjHBc_F3_Vrnd2Keylmb6j5KKG1e3NGxs0XgF6Gt9L7QbMj0pZvJzhPuPS4PNCX1LkIGJD8N1Toh597FMPaNx5Wt-erI2suPXz0PCis/s1600-h/Packing+Up.July07+004.jpg"></a></p></div></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15344492.post-81367760296171248142007-06-27T14:51:00.000-04:002007-06-27T15:06:41.558-04:00The Great OutdoorsWe live in the city. We are surrounded by sidewalks, alleys, blacktop streets, and very little grass. In fact, when we first bought our house, we thought it would be a great idea to lay sod in our postage-stamp (seriously, like 10 x 12) backyard. All was well until the came-with-the-house manual mower was stolen and we couldn't seriously purchase a new lawn mower for what could have been accomplished with some pruning sheers.<br /><br />When we renovated the house a few years ago, the backyard layout was somewhat manipulated, and we decided to use <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">pavers</span> to fill in the mini yard and the small side yard. While we've enjoyed it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">immensely</span>, it leaves a bit to be desired for small children who are wobbly-walking and not walking at all.<br /><br />I usually manage to pack up the kids and head to an outdoor park, playground or pool a few times a week. I'll be the first to admit that it's a hassle to get <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">it all</span> together, just for 45 minutes or so of fun, so I'm trying to embrace the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">luscious</span> landscape that we have right here. Concrete and all.<br /><br />I'm inspired by <a href="http://allthis.typepad.com/allthis/">Emmie and her twin boys</a>, and all that they do in their smallish yard and beyond. (Note: I will never, never manage to get chickens in my backyard!)<br /><br />This afternoon, I put together a delicious picnic meal - <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">hot dogs</span>, pears, and yogurt! - and the three of us headed to the backyard. An old comforter provided a soft place to sit, and we ate alfresco, under the dripping wisteria.<br /><br />In search of a favorite ball, we wandered down the side yard, and I realized that it was in desperate need of a weeding. I started pulling weeds, dropping them into an empty flowerpot, and eventually <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">MyGirl</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">MyBoy</span> got with the program and tried to help out. They couldn't grab them with enough force to extract them from the ground <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">usually</span>, but it was endearing.<br /><br />Some things they <em>were</em> able to pull included:<br /><ul><li>The hats off their own heads</li><li>The hats off each other's heads</li><li>Carefully planted <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">perennials</span></li><li><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">MyBoy</span> was able to pull himself up to standing, while holding on my arm, in order to save his badly scraped knees (concrete <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">pavers</span> do not mix well with a crawling little boy)</li><li>The shoes off their feet</li></ul><p>It was a fun "outing" and reminds me that I don't always have to choose a child-focused activity, but should try to get the twins to incorporate them into needed adult-focused activities. Now, if I could only teach them to pay the bills ...</p>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07658737213492685847noreply@blogger.com5