Martha I am Not

A couple weeks ago, we decided to invite all the neighbors over for Halloween dinner before trick-or-treating began.  There were several reasons we decided to do this:

1 - Our neighbors have been AWESOME in regards to support, love, caring and anything else you can provide since we moved here a year and a half ago.  They hosted a baby shower, basically fed us for a month after the babies were born, and have had us over to their homes time and time again for meals, socializing, etc.  We figured it was time to share the love.

2 - My parents were here.  We had 2 extra adults to assist. Adults - 4, Kids - 5.  4/5 ratio looked good.

3 - Trick or Treating started at 6pm.  Really, people would only be over here for an hour or so.  We figured we could somewhat fake control for 60 minutes - right?

I started digging around and found these awesome cupcakes on one of the blogs I stalk.  You know, one of those blogs where all the food looks amazing, the authors talk about how easy everything is to make, and they give away cool things that you never win, have 8 kids that they homeschool, travel to blogging conferences, have book deals, and look super cute in their blog photos which make you think they always look like that and then you start wondering why can't I be that amazing......  But I digress....

Ah the cupcakes...Aren't they beautiful?  A Halloween masterpiece. And really, how hard could it be?  A cake mix, some food coloring, muffin cups?  Piece of cake.  And how fabulous would I be - making these amazing cupcakes that everyone would love and swoon over.

"Did you try the cupcakes?  They are amazing!"  


"Heather - these cupcakes are adorable!  How do you find the time?"


"You are the most amazing baker I have ever known!  5 kids and still time to prepare this slice of heaven!"

So the night before the big shin dig, I pulled the fancy mixer out from the back of the cupboard, blew off the dust caked all over it, and commenced Project Awesome Cupcake Baking.  Decided to make a double batch - who knew how many people were going to be here, and these cupcakes would be so fabulous everyone would at least want two.

Figured it would take me 20 minutes to mix them up and stick them in the muffin pans - bake them for 30 minutes and frost the next day.............An hour and a half later, fingers dyed yellow and batter all over the counter, cupcakes went into the oven.  Apparently, dying batter and layering it in muffin cups is a little more time intensive than I imagined.  But all was good - they were baked and all I had to do was frost them the next day.

Fast forward 12 hours - back in the kitchen with the dusty mixer and the Perfect Cupcake Frosting recipe pulled up. According to the food blog goddesses, this is the Perfect Cupcake Frosting.  How could I pass that up?  No canned frosting for my guests - they were getting the best frosting ever!

"Oh my gosh - have you tasted the frosting on these cupcakes? It's like eating a cloud from heaven!"


"Heather - you must give me this recipe.  You are so amazing!  This is delicious!"


"I don't think I can ever have frosting again unless it is frosting you have prepared!"


Now, this is not your regular throw a bunch of stuff in the mixer whip it up frosting.  It involves heating things in saucepans, beating so long you thing the mixer is going to break, and other strange steps.  But, I knew I could tackle it.  I began my first batch and 45 minutes later I had this beautiful white fluffy frosting that did taste amazing - I could probably have eaten the entire bowl of it myself.  But, I was preparing it for my beloved guests - so frosting of the amazing double layered cupcakes I commenced.  And quickly realized I had nowhere near enough.  I checked the recipe again and realized I hadn't read closely enough.....

"Makes enough to frost 12 cupcakes"  

Argggghhhhh! (Ok, it was a different word than that, but my kids may read this blog later in life I don't want them to think I am a complete cusser)

I had made a double batch of cupcakes - so I was looking at 48 cupcakes covering the counter, all naked and begging for frosting. I had 11 done and no frosting left (Would've had 12 done, but I partook of my labors a bit).

Batch #2, tripled this time, of the 87 Step Worlds Most Amazing Frosting Recipe.....

So, an hour and a half later, I gaze upon my countertop covered with beatiful amazing Halloween cupcakes and gently adorn each one with a single candycorn.  I didn't have enough room on my serving platter (OK, it's really more of a large plate, my non-Martha-ness doesn't own any serving platters, especially of the Halloween persuasion), so I stuck the rest of the cupcakes on my baking stone and stuck them in the oven for the sake of counter space.

While doing this I said to all adults around me, "Don't let me forget that these are in the oven ok?"

You can see where this is going can't you?

About 30 minutes later, and 20 minutes before guests were to arrive, I headed upstairs to pump.  Right before I go, I turn the oven on to get ready to bake the Mummy Dogs (That's right - on top of fabulous cupcakes, I was also serving adorable hot dogs wrapped in crescent rolls so they look like mummies.  I am brilliant!)

While sitting there having my quality pumping time and dreaming of how fabulous an event we were going to have with all the fabulous food I had prepared, I hear the sound of windows being rapidly opened downstairs.  There is only one reason multiple windows are opened that fast in our house, and it usually has to do with something smokin and stinkin.   In less than 2.5 nanoseconds, I put it all together and screamed from my pumping position.....

"AHHHHHHH - THE CUPCAKES!!!!"

I quickly uncorked myself, ran downstairs, and saw half my beautiful cupcakes covered with melted frosting chucked into the sink. The pungent smell of burning frosting on the bottom of the oven permeated through the smoky air.

All that work to make the extra batches, the extra frosting, melting in the sink.

My mom gave me a hug and said, "You still have half them left.  It'll be fine."

And it was - I still had an entire plate of cupcakes to serve, so I set them out with some other treats that my mom and the kids had made the day before.  I felt bad there weren't enough cupcakes for each person, but figured it would be ok.

The party went great - everyone had a good time, we all survived, the food was eaten, the drinks were drank, and we made some wonderful Halloween memories.

The hot dogs were eaten, the apples and dip were eaten, the frito corn salad was eaten.............................

....................and I had an entire plate of UNEATEN cupcakes.  Not one beautiful delicious oven-disaster surviving CandyCorn cupcake was gone.

So, for 4 or so hours of blood, sweat, food colored fingers and tears, I ended up with half the cupcakes in the sink, and the other half still sitting there on the plate lookin at me.

So, the next time I'm stalking a food blog and think how cute and delicious and easy and "I can make that" some holiday food item looks, I'm just going to pull up this picture of cupcakes that my husband sent me from his office, the day after Halloween, before he took my dear neglected cupcakes down to the break room where all uneaten food goes to die....

And I'll click back to "Hip Momma in a Shoe" and remember that Martha I am Not.

Hip Momma's Halloween Candy Buying Guide (3 weeks late)

Here is what I have learned about buying Halloween candy.  Thought I would share it with you so you would avoid the same mistake next year that I have made...

If you buy this....

 You are gonna end up with a lot of this...

 Before the trick or treaters even ring your doorbell

So you have to buy this......

You may get the rep of being the house with the lame a$$ candy, but you are saving yourself at least 5 lbs and a pant size.  Take it from me - I've lived it.

And We're Public.....

Over the past couple months, we haven't gone out in public with all five kiddos unless it was completely unavoidable.  That equated to me taking them all once a week to G's gymnastics session because there was no other way around it or over to a neighbor's house if they were crazy enough to invite us for dinner. 

For everything else one of us would stay behind with at least the babies while the other one ventured out with the other kids.  No grocery store, no church, no Target as an entire family unit.  We used the excuse of not wanting to take the babies out in public for germ avoidance, but deep down in the back of my mind I wanted to avoid the freak show parade.

The time has come to take the freak show on the road....

In the past couple weeks, we have conquered the following outings.....

1 - Costco (early on a Sunday morning to avoid the crowds)

2 - The Children's Museum Haunted House (all by myself thank you very much)

3 - Neighborhood Halloween Parade (complete with coordinating themed costumes)

From these adventures, I have figured out some "Rules of the Road" so to speak 

1.  Divide and Mystify - By placing children in different transportation devices and making sure to maintain distance between the pushers, no one is really sure if we go together or not. Spread out walking children as well

2.  Nod, Smile, and Keep Moving - It's harder to ask questions to a moving target

3. Pre-Outing Stiff Drink and Extra Deodorent  is a Must - Calms the nerves and combats the excess stress sweat

4. Preparation is the Key - Make sure to have 10 back-up pacis, enough snacks to support an army for at least a week, and three changes of clothes per kid to ensure that nothing happens.  Go unprepared and all hell is guaranteed to break loose

5.  Have a Stock Funny Comment Ready to Go - There's not really time to think up snarky comments on the fly while trying to keep track of 5 kids, so prep and practice one before you head out in public.  I like "5 Kids?  Really?  I didn't even notice!" but have also used "I had no idea there were this many with me." 

6.  Remember that This Too Shall Pass - Really, this will only be an issue for the next 10-15 years of my life.  That's not too long right?  I'm sure we will look fondly back and say things like "Remember how great it was that time we all went to WalMart at 10am on a Saturday morning when they were little?  I sure miss that."

Yeah right.....

The good thing is every time I return from a entire family outing, I feel like I have conquered my own little Everest.  People should be lining our driveway cheering for us as we pull in, or patting us on the back and giving us high fives as we load everyone back into the car. We have returned with the same amount of children that we left with, no one was injured, and we weren't asked to leave anywhere.

I think that is a pretty darn big deal.

Birthday Musings

Amazing what motherhood and an aging mind does to you...

Today's my birthday - not telling you that because I expect all my thousands (ok, five not including my mom) of readers to wish me a wonderful day, send me flowers and cards, or write amazing witty comments on my facebook page.  Just telling you because it has made me think - think about how differently I approached my birthday 10 or 20 or (ahem) 30+ years ago.

I remember for the first 20 or so years of my life, this event was something that I started counting down to in early October.  Once Halloween was past, I knew my special day was coming.  The night before,  I would lay my head on the pillow and think, "This is the last night I am going to be 9, or 15, or a teenager, or not of drinking age, or still in my 20's".  It was exciting because it was my special day - the day I didn't share with anyone in my family, the day I got the attention, the day I felt just a little more special.

Last night when I went to bed, I didn't think about that at all.  Not one "This is the last night I will be 36!" or "Tomorrow is my special day!" Honestly, if I had been thinking like that, I probably would have had to do some serious math to figure out how old I actually was going to be before I recognized its passing of the previous year.

For some reason, the older you get, the more you loose track of how old you are.  Maybe it's because you've passed up all those "age" milestones - I have my very own library card, I can drive, I can vote, and I can buy a nice bottle of Strawberry Boone's at the corner liqueur store without becoming sweaty and nervous as I check out.  After that, what's the big deal?  I'm not counting down the years until I'm eligible to join AARP, and the way the economy is going all my kids are going to be living in my basement until they are 35 anyway so I don't really have a motherhood retirement date to look forward to.

To be honest, today is just another ordinary day - I went grocery shopping with 3 kids in tow, did a couple loads of laundry, argued with my toddler about nap, changed a bunch of wet diapers - with some well wishes thrown on top. And I'm not complaining about that because it is what it is.  Where my life is right now I don't get the chance to head to the spa for a couple hours, or have a leisurely bday dinner at a fancy restaurant with my husband, or eat cake at 2 in the afternoon with my coworkers.

But that's ok - because I got 3 birthday hugs and "Happy Birthday Mom" from three cute kids I love at breakfast, a "Happy Birthday Honey" from a wonderful husband this morning, and lots of adorable baby smiles and coos (that's "Happy Birthday" in baby-speak for those of you who can't translate).  There are well wishes from dear friends and family in the form of wall posts and phone calls and texts, and maybe a card or two in the mail once it arrives.  And my cup runneth over.....

Gone are the days of dreaming about my presents, my cake, my party, and my "day of special-ness".  I am now full tilt into "Oh crap, I'm closer to 40 than I thought!" and "Can you please be nice to mommy today because it's her birthday?" and "I love the Barbie Princess birthday card you picked out - it is just what I wanted!".  Funny thing is, if I had a chance, I don't think I would go back.

OK, that's a lie - I would go back for the fancy restaurant date night with my husband, but that's it....

And maybe a day of not changing diapers....

Or not arguing with the toddler about nap.....

Or grocery shopping by myself......

Dear Jillian

Dear Jillian Michaels,

The past couple days, I've had the pleasure of spending some time completing your 30 Day Shred.  I am finding your workout fairly do-able for a mom of 5.  But, after completing the workout three times this past week, I discovered some aspects of exercise for a mom of young children that you have missed.  So, if you don't mind, I've reworked the exercise routine to make it more "mom" relatable.

Pre-Workout Prep
1 - Gather large pile of books and toys to keep 2 year old occupied (can do this at slow jog to start increasing heart rate)
2 - Place babies in cribs, pacifiers engaged, swaddled tight to ensure at least 20 minutes of sleep (while doing deep knee bends)
3 - Use restroom 3 times in attempt to empty bladder in hopes to avoid any "accidents" during workout (do leg lifts on potty to warm up calves)

Warm-Up
1-Arm Circles
2- Knee Circles
3- Arm Crosses
Interrupt at least three times to change over laundry, help toddler use the restroom, give toddler a fruit snack for successfully using the potty, and answer phone

Strength Section

1- Bicep Curls
After 5 curls, start encouraging your 2 year old to "Copy the lady on TV!" to entertain her since the large pile of toys and books have lost their mojo.
Run upstairs while continuing curls.  Continue curling with one arm while other puts paci back in screaming baby's mouth.
Squat/Shoulder press Combo
Begin section with argument with 2 year old about how "Mommy Needs the Hand-Weights Right Now!", chase her around living room, and wrestle weights away from her.  Attempt to catch up with exercises on screen after regaining control of hand-weights and ignoring screaming of 2 year old.
Repeat above exercises
.....stopping once to place toddler in time out since she again has stolen your hand weights after you asked her 3 times to leave them alone

Cardio
Jumping Jacks
Complete 1 minute of Jumping Jacks while crossing legs or holding legs tightly together to minimize stress on bladder
Butt Kicks
Do for 5 seconds when you realize baby upstairs is screaming again
Continue Butt Kicks while you run upstairs to put paci in baby's mouth and return downstairs
Go back upstairs again because other baby is now screaming - continue butt kicks but with minimal jostling as you carry baby downstairs and place in swing

Abs
Lay on ground and begin crunches
While crunching scoot on back over to swing and push button on fishy-mobile thing to try to distract baby, then remove toddler who has climbed on top of your stomach and yelled "horsey!" and resume crunches

Now, this is just a sampling of the additional aspects of the workout that I think you should include.  If you are interested in hearing more of my insights and ideas, I would be more than happy to outline those for Sections 2 and 3 of your workout routine.  Thanks so much for creating a short and effective workout routine that, in theory, should be perfect for moms like me.  Maybe I'll email you my before and after pictures once I have completed your workout plan - I am sure I will look pretty darn good once I Photoshop out the tummy stretch marks, dark circles under my eyes, and find a workout outfit that actually matches or doesn't have spit up on the shoulder.

Your faithful trainee,

Heather

Out in Public

I spent a little bit of time out in public this morning, and decided I needed to get the following information out there:

Dear People Who Think They are Hilarious When they See me out in Public Carrying 2 Babies in Infant Carriers:

"Boy, you've got your hands full!"  (Laugh laugh laugh)

is not really that original or funny.  You may think you are being clever or unique, but sadly you are not.

Dear People Who Ask Me the Following Question When they See me out in Public Carrying 2 Babies in Infant Carriers:

"Are they Twins?"

What else could they possibly be?  Why else would I be carrying 2 babies who are exactly the same size around in baby buckets? Do you think one is mine and I just borrowed the other one?

Dear People Who Look at Both Babies Usually Dressed in Pink and Blue and Then Ask:

"Are they identical?"

Their parts don't match - so no, they're not.  I suggest maybe a refresher course in anatomy, or biology, or something to that effect.....

Dear People Who Know I am Behind You Attempting to Go Through a Set of Double Doors While Carrying a Set of Twins in Bucket Carriers:

There really is no reason to ask...

"Can I get the door for you?"

The answer is Yes, Yes, and Hell Yes - unless you want to videotape me attempting to go through the doors by myself and then post it on YouTube for giggles.  Guaranteed 100,000+ hits for sure as it has got to look stinkin' hilarious.

OK, that be the end of my "How to Approach a Mom with Infant Twins" public service announcement.

Secret Confession of a Pumper

Although it may be too much information to share here in cyberspace - I've been pumping.  For the past 9 weeks I've been spending quality time several times a day with my top of the line hospital grade breast pump.(That's right people - I just typed breast pump into cyberspace.) It's a rental, and its fabulous.  Fabulous in the sense that it is fast. And efficient.  I've never mastered the double "real-deal" feeding skills, and Baby Boy never got that good at it, so I mostly pump.

There are several reasons why I sacrifice my time and energy providing human milk for my offspring.

1 - It's the best stuff for them.  Apparently it boosts immunity, increases IQ, blesses children with Xray vision and ability to fly, etc.
2 - It's a truckload less expensive then buying formula.  Honestly, we may have to sell one of the older kids to finance the formula habit these new babies would develop if they ate it at every feeding.
3 - Ok - this is a shallow one, but it helps you loose the baby weight a heck of a lot quicker.  Feeding two extra people with my own body burns extra calories and makes it ok to have that extra bowl of ice cream at 11 pm when no one is watching.

But, to be honest one little perk that I didn't anticipate was secret reason number 4 for pumping.....

4 - The Alone Time

Yes

The All By Myself No One Bothering Me Ability to Ignore Screams of "Mom" Time Sitting on My Bed Stalking Facebook and Pinterest FreeCell Playing Time

See, no one is going to stop you when you say you have to go upstairs and pump.  Really, it's a bit taboo.  It's like I go upstairs and 15 minutes later I magically appear with milk.  Kinda like Fight Club - everyone knows what is happening but you don't talk about it.  No one wants to actually see what is happening - the reality of it is pretty darn gross.  So, all I have to do is say, "I gotta go pump." and the seas part, other adults start taking over, and the path to 15 minutes of solitude is cleared.

I lock the door, cozy up on the bed, hook myself up to an impersonal and awkward machine, and enjoy my time of quiet. And sometimes it takes me a really long time - you know how that pumping goes :)

The Almighty Excuse

There are lots of disadvantages to having 5 kids.   But, I have realized that having 5 kids works as an excuse for all kinds of situations.....

"Hey - you're 20 minutes late!"
Sorry, I have 5 kids....

"Mam, do you realize you drove right through that stop sign?"
So sorry officer, but I have 5 kids....

"Is there any way you could volunteer to supervise a bunch of crazy kids on the class field trip?"
I would love to, but I have 5 kids....

"Hi mam - I am selling really crappy unattractive wrapping paper for my marching band's trip to Slovenia.  Would you like to buy some?"
Hmm, that sure is some nice paper, but I have no extra money since we have 5 kids....

"You are only supposed to have 10 items in this line, and you have 45."
So sorry - I didn't realize I was in the wrong lane.  I was distracted by my 5 kids.....

"Can you watch out-of-control bratty Johnny while I go get my nails done?"
Aw man, wish I could, but I have 5 kids....

"Mom, can you wash this shirt for tomorrow morning?"
Sorry buddy, but I have 5 kids....

"Why are we having cereal for dinner again?"
Duh - I have 5 kids......

"Do you realize there is some sort of fungus growing out of your toilets?"
I wish I had time to get that clean, but I have 5 kids

"Haven't you worn that pair of sweatpants 4 days in a row?"
Maybe - I have 5 kids....

"Do you realize you haven't updated your blog in almost a month?"
I have 5 kids....

Time to Make the MT Cool

I'm in that lovely post-pregnancy phrase that I like to refer to "If the Pants Fit, You Still Probably Shouldn't Wear Them".

You know - that time when you can JUST BARELY button or snap your pre-pregnancy pants closed, but when you do it creates an amazingly unattractive silhouette famously known as the....

drum roll please....

The Muffin Top!!!!

Yes, the dreaded post-pregnancy I'm in my old jeans! but they just squish everything up in weird places so I look like Snooki from Jersey Shore if I wear any shirts that touch any of my mid-section so I wear really large flowey shirts to attempt to cover up my body flaws phase.

And as I was getting dressed today, searching for an outfit that

A - fit
B - was comfortable
C - didn't make it look like I purchase all my clothes 3 sizes too small but am in denial so I wear them anyway
D- wasn't screaming "I Give Up - I'm Just Going to Wear Sweats the Rest of my Life"
E - hid the above mentioned Muffin Top

I thought to myself.....

"Wouldn't it be cool if I didn't have to hide this?  What if the post-pregnancy Muffin Top wasn't something to cover in shame, but something to be flaunted as a badge of honor?"

What if it was cool to have a Post-Pregnancy Muffin Top? Sorta like an intriguing tattoo, ripped biceps, a really bad-ass scar that told a story of your survival from some terrible accident, or a extremely cool haircut. One of those things that you wear with honor or pride - and that people comment about with envy.

"Pardon me mam - I don't mean to bother you.......but I noticed your Muffin Top there between your waistband and your form-fitting T-shirt.  I just wanted to tell you - it is AMAZING!  The way it squishes over the top of your pants is exquisite. You must have had a baby recently.  Thank you, thank you for sacrificing your body to bring a life (or two) into this world.  I wish I could have a Muffin Top like that too. You must be so proud."


Will you join me in the movement to make the Muffin Top cool - a hip new accessory that every woman can't live without and that every man desires?  Maybe I'll start a Facebook page or see if I can get some celebrities to twitter about it.  Or a hip public service commercial that goes viral on You Tube where Angelina Jolie talks about her Muffin Top after she had her twins and how sad she was when it went away.....

And then we post-pregnancy women can leave the house in the jeans we can just barely get snapped with our heads held high, Muffin Top hanging in the breeze, and know we are just a little bit cooler than everyone else because we have a bit extra jiggle in the middle.

Slow and Steady

I went for my first run today since who knows when.....

Ok, If I really think about it, it has been almost 9 or 10 months.  I did a half marathon last November, and I think that is the last time I propelled myself forward quicker than a walk.  For the last couple months, it really was more of a waddle.

Now, certain body parts have not been cooperating when it comes to running (ie- bladder), so I started off today at a quick walking pace.  I have walked several times since the twins were born, but this time I was jogging stroller-free thanks to my fabulous husband.  I had my music turned up loud, had nothing to push but myself, and I felt a bit free.

I got halfway through the first part of my normal three mile route, and a little thought creeped into my head....

"Maybe I could try to run for just a bit"


"Surely not!" said my practical side.  "You'll pee your pants, you'll die of exhaustion, your huge boobs will knock you out from the bouncing, people will laugh at your pathetic pace......"

"Just try it."


and so I did.

Now, I wasn't speedy by any stretch of the imagination.  In fact, I am sure if I had my Garmin on it would have started laughing at me instead of beeping when I hit each mile.  You probably couldn't even call it running - it was more of a slow, methodical trot.

And I walked up the big hill (ok, it's more of a slight incline).

And I walked when I hit my neighborhood entrance instead of methodical trotting to my house.

But I didn't take the shortcut by the school to cut off mileage

And I ran all the way around the park instead of cutting through

And I kept moving

And I didn't pee my pants (as far as I know - black shorts hide all kinds of mishaps ya know)

And when I got home I was sweaty and out of breath and tired and felt just a teeny weeny bit more like my old self.

Whaddya Doin?

So, where's the Hip Momma been?  Why no entertaining blog posts?  The massive throng of Hip Momma blog followers have been checking and re-checking this site, and yet no new posts in weeks.    So, what have you been up to one may ask.....

Well, I've been washing a lot of this.....

And changing a lot of these.....

And spending lots of time hanging out with a 2 year old in here, so she doesn't have to wear the above item any more.......

And not pulling up the sheets or covers on this.....Or sleeping very much in this......

 And doing a really bad job washing a lot of this.....

 And spending a lot of quality time hooked up to this....

(if you don't know what this is, don't ask)

And searching endlessly for these.......

 And trying to turn this.....

Into this.....

 That's what I've been doin'

How Many People Can You Fit in a Hospital Room?

As those of you who know me know - I am a private person in regards to my private parts.  My roommates made fun of me in college for standing in a corner while dressing so no one say my naked-ness.  I am a master of bra-removal while still wearing a shirt.  I DREAD every girl doctor appointment I have ever had to suffer through.  I'm not a fan of swimsuits, and I would rather be shot than breast-feed in public.

So, an hour after delivery and it is time to attempt the first breast feed.  Keep in mind that both babies are in my room under warmers, and have at least 2 nurses attending to them.  My nurse and my doctor are both in the room, and other random people in scrubs keep coming in and out.  Plus, L and I are there.  It is a post-birth circus. 

Then, the lactation consultant joins in on the fun and she says, "Would you mind if a couple extra people came in to observe?  It isn't every day we have an experienced mom of twins breastfeeding. It would be great for them to watch and learn."

L just looked at me and started to laugh....

And while inside my head is screaming, "NO!  Please go AWAY!  Everyone OUT!"

My voice says, "Sure."  Yep, I am a post-birth self-advocating WIMP!

So, while I get ready to try and feed these new babies for the first time, exposing my chest to the entire room, I look around and start to count.

"1 person, 2 persons, 3 persons, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12....Twelve stinkin' people in the hospital room not including me or my husband while I try to attach a child to my chest."

So, the girl with the naked-phobia is now exposing her chest to a dozen random people.  Ugh. 

To top it all off, one of the observing crew with the lactation consultant decided she needed to ask me questions while I was attempting this.   "How was feeding your first set of twins?  How long did you breastfeed them?  What bra size do you wear?"

(OK, she didn't ask me that, but she might was well have with as violated as I already felt)

I felt like I may as well have been up on stage dancing around in a nudie bar. It was a long, grueling, uncomfortable 15 minutes until the lactation crew left, all but a couple nurses cleared the room and I was able to put my gown back on and tie it tight around my neck, keeping all my parts private once again.

Baby Mind Games

I swear they are messing with me.......

I'll be in the middle of doing something (laundry, pumping, washing the 463 bottles we go through a day, staring at the fridge trying to figure out what I am hungry for) when a loud piercing scream will bellow through the monitor.  I'll drop everything and dash to the babies' room to stick a pacifier in whoever is yelling, only to find 2 little babies sleeping peacefully.

I'll then return to task, when 2 seconds later, louder piercing screaming and crying through the monitor.  Again, dash up to stick a pacifier in, only to find 2 babies still sleeping.

Repeat pattern about 87 times a day.

I know they are only 3 weeks old, but I am convinced that once I close the door they are winking and giving each other high fives.

Babies Babies Babies!

Here's the Hip Momma's new shoe inhabitants.....

Only After Having a Baby do you Get To.....

*Dread standing up for the first 24 hours post-birth

*Have nurses bring you ice cream in the middle of the night

*Wear white fishnet underwear

*Hang out in a hospital gown for days on end and no one question your fashion choice

*Request Ice-packs for your "hinterland" made out of baby diapers

*Order from "room service" for every meal and get chocolate pudding for breakfast

*Have all kinds of people see your girl parts

*Take 20 minutes to "repack" the goods after using the restroom with steps including the aforementioned fishnet underwear, maxipads the size of Minnesota, some strange pain-relieving spray, and funky smelling Tucks-ish looking pads.

*Have random nurses and lactation consultants touch and grab your goods and shove them into your newborn child's mouth

*Get frequent massages ----- of your belly to gush out all the extra fluid

*Send the babies to the nursery overnight and get your first 6 hours of solid sleep in a very long time

One Final Blow to the Ego

As I have written about earlier, this pregnancy garnered its share of crazy comments from all kinds of people.    In fact, I felt like a magnet - attracting every strange comment that you should NOT make to someone who is pregnant. At least it made great fodder for blogging and facebook comments.

After pushing out the little people and loosing 2 babies and crazy fluid weight in a manner of minutes, I was feeling pretty darn good about myself after delivery.  In fact, I felt svelte compared to the large marge I was 12 hours earlier.  Yes, my stomach was still poking out, but I could walk without a waddle and was able to tie my robe around my waist.  I felt like Cindy Crawford, or a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Model, or one of those "after" pictures on a P90X commercial.  I know I didn't look like that, but I sure felt great.

So, 12 hours after delivery the hubby and I were getting off the elevator from visiting T after he had been taken up to the NICU (blood sugar issue).  It was 1am, I had been up all day, pushed 2 babies out of me, and was extremely tired.    There was a cleaning lady getting on the elevator across from us.  She looked at me and said,

 "You getting ready to have that baby?"

"You getting ready to have that baby?".....It took me a couple seconds to process what she had asked me, and I probably gave her a strange look, and then I realized that she thought I was still pregnant.

"Actually, had them 12 hours ago."

The elevator doors closed with the poor woman looking extremely confused.

I should have probably been nice just said, "Yep!", but I didn't.  Because she just totally deflated my Cindy Crawford-Sports Illustrated-P90Xish post-birth ego, and it took my nice out with it.

So, I walked my pregnant-looking non-pregnant self back to my room and asked the nurse for some ice cream.

Oh Where Oh Where Has the Hip Momma Been?

Well, I had twins three weeks ago and I have three other kids to take care of.....You figure it out!

OK, that's a bit rude.  Chalk it up to sleep deprivation, being hooked up to a breast pump half my day, and the other half spent putting a 2.5 year old either on the potty or in time-out while in between trying not to yell at two 6 year olds who desperately need to go back to school and get away from the 2.5 year old.

So, I've been here all along but nowhere near my computer.

Hip Grandmomma took the older three to the State Fair today, so I have dreams of blogging dancing through my head.  Let's see if my dreams come true...

A Delivery Story

So, how did the big day go you may be asking yourself? (Or you may not). If you don't care, just skip this post and return later for a discussion of a topic other than my delivery!
But, for the rest of you.....

Dare I say, it actually went, well, ……….

easy.....

That's right - I just described childbirth of twins as EASY.......

Obviously I must have been drinking, or on some type of very strong narcotic, or both. Maybe Easy isn't the right word. Maybe....

Uncomplicated?
Non-stressful?
Calm?
Controlled?

I'm not sure how to exactly describe it, but it was pretty much opposite what you would picture labor and delivery being. When one thinks childbirth words like stressful, strenuous, chaos, sweat, exertion, exhaustion, and extreme pain come to mind. And, in the past, my birth experiences have contained at least elements of that. Listening to several of my friends who have recently given birth, childbirth often those words and worse….

But for some reason last Tuesday, things went pretty much as smooth as you could want them to go.

We showed up at the hospital around 7 and headed straight to a patient room. After 5 minutes, the staff already had me changed into my hot sexy hospital gown, had permission forms saying the hospital wasn’t at fault if I died and if our insurance doesn’t pay we are going to owe the hospital our wages for the rest of our lives signed, and were poking my hand for an iv. Fifteen minutes into it, the doctor was there ready to check me and break my water.

And that’s where the worst 15 minutes of the whole experience began –

It took 2 nurses and 4 tries to get my IV hooked up. Searing hot pain from needle pokes in 4 places on my arm – awesome.

Then, the doctor checked me - which happens to be one of the most uncomfortable and painful things I can think of that happens to a woman – except for when they use this magical knitting hook up in places where it shouldn’t be to break your water.

IV for drugs in, doctor done exploring my private parts, water of baby A broken, and I was at a 5. And that is the end of the worst 15 minutes of the day ended.

I had been at the hospital a total of 45 minutes.

The rest of the morning, the hubby and I hung out, chatted it up with the nurse, entertained the various staff that came in saying, “Are you the one having her second set of twins?” (thanks medical records on the computer), and just enjoyed chillin’ without having to tell anyone to clean their room, go get dressed, or finish their milk before they left the table. It was almost like we were on a date, but in a hanging out in a hospital waiting to go into labor sort-a way.

A little bit later, the anesthesiologist showed up and put in my epidural. I was extremely disappointed that I couldn’t have the babies without drugs, but because it was twins and we had to be prepared for a C-Section, I had to have one.

OK, that’s a complete lie. Never has crossed my mind to attempt childbirth without the miracle of numbness from the waist down. I think people who actually do birth children without drugs should get to wear a special medal on their shirts for the rest of their lives, and wherever they go people should give them a standing ovation.

Anyway….

So, I’m numbed up and feel no pain, hanging out in bed chatting with my husband and playing Free Cell on my phone. I have an unlimited supply of ice chips at my disposal, and life is good. I can’t tell you how many times we turned to each other and commented about how surreal and calm the whole thing was.

Around 12 the nurse checked me again (thank you epidural) and told L he might want to go grab lunch because we’re getting close. By the time he returned, the room was starting to fill up with people. They gathered up all the medical equipment attached to me, and had a little parade down the hall to the operating room. As we were leaving the room I said to the nurse “Am I contracting a lot – I’m not feeling much.” She just laughed and said, “Girl – you’re having a huge one right now.” (thank you epidural).

Now, one of the strange things about having twins is the massive amount of people that are around for the delivery. There were a couple of nurses there attending to me, the doctor, the hubby, two nurses for each baby, and they were calling in extra people. Before I knew it, everyone was masked up, I was in the uncomfortable position that guaranteed everyone could see my private parts, and the doctor told me to go ahead and push.

One push, and baby partially out. Another push and the doctor says, “Whoa whoa whoa – slow down.” and baby boy is out. Within 5 minutes, I’ve pushed twice, one baby is out and on the warmer, and we’re getting ready for baby 2.

That’s when we figure out Baby Girl has flipped – she was head down at the start of delivery, decided to enjoy all the space that her vacated brother had made, and flipped head up again.

I looked at the doctor and said, “You promised.” You see, she and I had several discussions before delivery about how at all costs we needed to avoid the dreaded “double injury”. You know – regular delivery for one, C section for the other. Messed up girl-parts, messed-up belly = not cool.

“We’re fine” she said, and then said, “I just want you to push.” So push I did. And out came Baby Girl feet first – 5 pushes max. And we were done. No pain, no stress, and Baby Girl delivered breech (thank you epidural).

And that is how Baby T and Baby C entered the world.  That’s my delivery story, and I’m stickin to it!

Ugh

It's offical - I've made it 37 weeks 4 days without swelling.

And today I developed.......

Cankles

Thank goodness for long maternity dresses and flip flops.

This is highly, highly unattractive......

It's the Final Countdown

My induction has been moved up.  Come Tuesday morning, if nothing happens before then, I’m headed to the hospital to have a little pitocin and hopefully some babies.

The last time I was induced with the first set of twins we didn’t have much warning – we went in on a Monday afternoon and the doctor said, “See you tomorrow morning for your induction.”  We had one night to not sleep, worry about having babies, and then head to the hospital. This time, I’ve got three whole days to muddle over the fact that two more babies are being added to our family.

To be honest, it is a completely strange feeling.  Three days until massive chaos hits. Three days until I have 2 more kids to take care of. Three days until I have little infants who want to eat every three hours.  Three days until the breast feeding/pumping/diaper changing/infant crying/spit up begins.

What things should I make sure I get done?

Laundry?  Cleaning? Quality time with each kid?  Grocery shopping?  Do my nails?  Attempt at shaving? Repaint the bathroom?  Blogging?  Last minute phone calls?  Reorganize the junk drawer?  Clean out the lint trap on the dryer?  Redecorate the living room?

I have this panicked feeling that I will never have one iota of free time ever again, and so I have to scramble to get everything perfect in the next 3 days.  Possible – no, and yet I still have this strange compulsion to try and do it.

So, if you see me outside cleaning windows, or vacuuming out the car, or anything else strange that a pregnant lady probably shouldn’t be doing, just leave me be.  It’s just a crazy pregnant lady with 3 days left until chaos ensues just trying to do the best she can.

Gold Star Baby!

Friday I had another visit with the Perinatologist.  We had another very thorough sonogram where they checked the babies' movements and chord blood flow.  The doctor told me how well I had done with this pregnancy, and that I should get a gold star.  "Come to think of it", she said, "You should get two gold stars - you have done so well."

Laying there on the sonogram chair, feeling large and uncomfortable, I just didn't feel very accomplished. Not very Gold Star worthy. In all honesty, I wasn't sure what I personally had done to keep these babies in for so long.  In fact, over the past week I have pretty much done everything under my power to make them come out, to no avail.

The doctor had us go to their conference room to wait for a minute - I assumed she was calling my OB to share her findings before we headed over there for that appointment.  Instead, the doctor came in a couple minutes later with this:

If you can't read the picture, this is what it says:

The Double Gold Star

AWARD is given to wonderful

Mrs. Heather Johnson

for being an exceptional patient

That's right - I got an official Gold Star award from my Perinatologist.  I must be pretty darn impressive.

It even has 2 actual shiny gold star stickers on it!

So, during those long nights when I have been up 87 times feeding babies and am going on 3 hours of sleep over 5 days, I can look at my beautiful Gold Star award, and feel somewhat accomplished.  I am sure not many patients are awarded this prestigious certificate, so it will hang on my fridge in a place of importance for all to gaze upon.

Behold the Double Gold Star Award and it's lucky recipient - ME!

No Dice

Apparently I don't sound desperate and pathetic enough, because after a very good, well rehearsed sob story that I gave to the nurse at my doctor's office, my induction date still stands at July 29th.

So, unless something completely unusual comes up on my sonogram tomorrow or I go into labor on my own, it looks like these babies aren't arriving until the 29th.

In the meantime, I have

*Scrubbed all our wood floors
*Set and re-set sprinklers
*Walked to and from our neighborhood pool in 100 degree heat multiple times
*Cleaned all the bathrooms
*Lifted lots of heavy things
*Cleaned all the glass doors multiple times
*Refinished a desk

And pretty much done everything else I wasn't supposed to 2 weeks ago.   And yet, nothing.  Little people, get out of my belly!

You Know Your Belly is Getting Big When....

Your laptop doesn't fit on your lap anymore

Your kid doesn't fit on your lap anymore

You have to open both sides of the french doors to get out of your bedroom

There is no fitting between, around, or in anything that you have to go in sideways

The level of water becomes basically flood level when you enter the bathtub

You can't open or close the blinds above your kitchen window because you can't reach the string without getting a stool so your belly reaches clearance level above the sink

It is hard to wash dishes because your belly keeps bumping into the sink

You have to carefully position yourself in just the right spot to open and close/load and unload the front loader washer and dryer

You see yourself from the sideview, cringe, and vow to not look in the mirror again from that vantage point until post-delivery

Not Cool

Just got a phone message from the doctor's office.  Nurse shared that they wanted to go ahead and schedule an induction (AWESOME!!!!).........



on July 29th!!!!!!


WHAT?  That's in 2 weeks people.....


Have begun making a list of reasons why I should be induced before July 29th to convince my lovely doctor to move up the date....I'll keep you posted

Intrusive-ness at Its Finest

Questions I have been asked the past week:

"Can I ask you a rude question?  Are you carrying twins? I thought so because you are so big!" - random lifeguard at YMCA pool

"Man, are you uncomfortable?  You look really pregnant and uncomfortable." - key scanner lady at YMCA

"There are twins in there right?  I just figured when I saw you." - lady in line behind me at grocery store

"Oh my gosh - when are you due?" - woman at library

Nothing like complete intrusiveness to make you feel completely self conscious.

How Much Does it Cost to Bribe a Perinatologist????

Last week I went to my regular OB for a sonogram, Baby Boy's abdomen was measuring small.  So, on Friday I went to a Perinatologist for another sonogram to confirm that his abdomen was small, and if it was we were probably looking at delivery early this week. 

So, I began mentally preparing myself for delivery this Tuesday (2 days from today).  In fact, I began dreaming longingly about it.  No more waddling around, no more pain in my butt, no more lower back pain, no more "When are you going to have those babies?".  I told everyone I ran into, "I am pretty sure we are having babies next week."

So, after a long and in-depth sonogram Friday afternoon at a specialist's office, the sonographer left to share the results with the doctor.  I prepared myself for the inevitable - the perinatologist would come in and say, "I'm going to call your OB and recommend that you deliver early next week.  Time for those babies to come out."

In came the perinatologist, and she began scanning my stomach again (I am pretty sure I have set the world's record for amount of sonogram jelly that has been smeared on my tummy in the past 8 months).  She talked about how great it was that both of the babies were moving, pointed out that they were both "practicing" breathing, the cord blood flow was still good, all their parts were there and looked to be in working order, and they were weighing at between 5 and 6 lbs. (That's right people, I am carrying approximately 10 to 12 lbs of baby in my belly.)

"How's his abdomen?"  I asked hopefully, bracing myself for the delivery news. 

"It's still measuring small - around the 9th percentile."  she said.

"So that's concerning right?  They probably need to come out, right?" I said feigning concern.

"Actually, we really look at fetal movement and cord blood flow to determine if it is time to deliver the babies.  Both of those look really good on you.  I'm not as concerned with his abdomen size, as much as those other 2 things. So, I am going to recommend to your OB that we don't induce delivery right now."

What?  What did she say?  No delivery.  On goes the back pain, butt pain, waddling and intrusive questions.....

As I walked out of the office with the nurse to schedule my next sonogram for the following week I asked, "Do you thing $50 would change her mind?" 

The nurse smiled kindly at me, shook her head no, and handed me my appointment card.  "See ya next week!" she brightly said.

"See you next week." Ugh!

Baldy and Don King

One other interesting fact that my most recent ultrasound revealed was that one of the babies has some hair.  OK, some hair may be an understatement.  Baby Girl Johnson has some massive hair.  Remember - babies are head to head pointing down.  So, check out these pics....

Here's Baby Girl Johnson - cute right?  Looks pretty normal, nothing strange...

 Here's Baby Boy Johnson - also cute. 

But what's that strange white fuzzy stuff above his head in the picture? 

Well, according to the ultrasound tech, that would be his sister's hair hanging over the top of his head.  Girlfriend has so much hair that is intruding into his close up.  I'm picturing a mini-Don King, or Snooki from Jersey Shore with that big bang formation over her forehead.  I'm going to be paying for haircuts before this kid rolls over.  Good thing newborns wear those little hats.

And no sign of hair on Baby Boy.  How could he - his sister's been taking all the hair-making nutrition apparently.

Oh boy is it going to be interesting to meet these babies!



What's Up Buttercup??

Recent Update:  Still no babies, still on "modified" bedrest, at 35 weeks and the countdown to "Party of Five" has begun.

I had a sonogram early last week which revealed lots of excellent information, such as:
1 - Both babies are head down - which explains why my bladder feels like a punching bag
2 - Baby Girl Johnson is not only head down, but is laying in a V with her feet resting on her brother's head
3 - Those 2 strange bumps at the top of my tummy that keep popping up are their butts
4 - Heartbeats, umbilical cord flow, and baby parts all look great

The only concern was Baby Boy Johnson's abdomen - apparently it is measuring a little small.  Like 7th percentile small.  All his other parts are measuing normally - so I am picturing this normal-headed, normal-limbed baby with this abnormally small middle part. Kinda like a Barbie Doll. Maybe he's been doing P90X or Abs of Steel?  You gotta do something to build your stregnth when your sister is constantly kicking you in the head.

So, next Friday the babies get scanned again to check out that Barbie abdomen and all their other parts.  If Baby Boy's waist is still small, the babies may be evicted from their current warm cozy home to the bright lights of the real world.

Clock's ticking.......little friends arriving soon.....

Like Manna from Heaven

Last few weeks of pregnancy - you are massive, uncomfortable, and feel udderly unattractive. To top it off, you are busting out of your go-to maternity clothes. Your favorite maternity t-shirt that fit last week is starting to show a little bottom belly if you don't constantly pull it down. That skirt that you have worn multiple times and felt semi-cute in all of a sudden is riding a little lower than you are comfortable wearing. You are starting to look like "that pregnant lady" that you swore you would never be - you know, the one who's belly is bustin out the bottom of her piled worn-way-to-many-times cotton shirt, and the elastic band of her maternity pants is a prominent feature on her lower back as she slowly waddles through Target looking absolutely miserable.

But, you don't want to go buy more clothes because

1- The size you are going to have to purchase is just disgusting
2 - You are only going to wear them a couple more weeks
3 - Most of the clothes that will fit your belly resemble a mu mu and who wants to spend their hard earned money on a mu mu

So, when my sister showed up last Thursday with a big bag of maternity clothes courtesy of her sister-in-law, I had a small glimmer of hope that there may be a shirt or two that could tide me over until delivery, but not much excitement. Because, as most of us know, a "shared" sack of maternity clothes sent to you in your last weeks is typically full of huge shirts that tie around the back and big baggy stretched out cotton pants with a bleach stains somewhere on the bottom. Not usually the height of fashion, even maternity fashion (which is a bit of an oxymoron)

But not this sack - this sack was full of flowy, comfy, soft dresses that were actually, dare I say....

FABULOUS!

And not just one cute dress, but lots of cute dresses. A week's worth (if I make sure not to drop food on my belly during lunch) of outfits that I could acutally feel attractive in. No more doing laundry every 3 days, or even 4 for that matter!

Now, I readily accept the fact that I still look massive in them. Turn to the side and the view might even scare you. But, they are comfortable, nothing is touching my belly, and they could pass for non-maternity dare I say "hip" clothes if you took a quick peek at them on the hanger.

So God Bless You JW sister-in-law of my sister and your bag of amazing Manna from Heaven Maternity Dresses! I love you!

Is Your Liver Fatty, or Is It Just Me??

My official diagnosis from my hospital stay last weekend is Acute Fatty Liver Syndrome of Pregnancy. Sounds sexy, right?

No, it sounds like I am a 400 lb. woman who has just spent her life engorging herself on fried foods, red meat, and pretty much anything else that is bad for you and is now paying the price by having a big, old, nasty fatty covered liver while trying to carry a baby (or two for that matter). In fact, when people ask me what was up with the hospital stay, I feel the urge to whisper the diagnosis very quietly behind my hand, almost like they discovered a shrunken twin growing out my back or something to that effect.

If you google this Fatty Liver issue, it basically scares the pants off you. Terms like "life-threatening" and "organ shut down" occur in the descriptions. So, after one day of investigating, I have banned myself from any Fatty Liver searches on the computer. The OB, the GI and various other medical professionals had faith that I am healthy enough to go home, they are monitoring me, and if I start to feel crappy, I just need to make a phone call that will probably land me back in the hospital with people sucking out and deciphering my blood again.

What I do know from what the doctors told me is that

1 - It is rare (1 in 10,000 to 1 in 15,000) pregnancies
2 - Nothing I could have done to prevent it
3 - It will go away 2-3 days after delivery

All I can do is eat a low-fat diet and hope my fatty liver hangs on until those babies get out of my belly.

So, here's to grilled chicken, veggies, and driving past Chic-Fil-A without stopping. Me and my (whisper)fatty liver have to stay away from you for awhile!

Quick Update

So sorry I haven't updated - amazing how much more time you have to write when you are stuck in the hospital without anyone to take care of versus at home trying to keep up with three kids, a dog, a husband, and family in visiting/helping/celebrating the 4th.

So, I got to go home last Tuesday afternoon after lots of blood draws, monitorings, and a whole bunch of just sitting around. It felt so good to just come home and sit on my own couch, lay in my own bed, and go back to sleeping in the rocker in the nursery because besides all the wonderful treatment at the hospital I got they couldn't figure out away to make my night butt pain go away. But, I was sleeping in the rocker at home, so that made it 10 times better.

So, besides the low fat diet, and everyone telling me to sit down, go rest, get out of the way, everything is good. Babies are good, liver enzymes are currently normal, I am large and uncomfortable which pretty much is how the last month of pregnancy goes.

Update

Well, still in the hospital.

Liver enzymes are falling, but still not in normal range, so by OB is holding me captive here to infuriate me having me stay to make sure that I am ok before she lets me go home. 

The doctors have ruled out all kinds of issues, and the GI doc who came and talked to me today has diagnosed me with some type of fatty liver issue.  Sounds highly unglamorous and a little bit gross, but apparently it can be controlled with diet (no more double cheeseburgers for me) and goes away after delivery.  Question is if my OB will let me go home to try to manage it on my own, trusting I won't engorge myself with fatty foods, or if I get to stay here while they monitor my blood count and food intake.

I have read 1 book, watched 3 movies, spent 8 hours on the baby monitor, had 2 very in depth ultrasounds, solved an amazing amount of crossword puzzles, and played countless games of solitaire on my phone. 

In fact, I think I may be becoming a solitaire genius, or addict, depending on how you qualify each.

Only in a Hospital

Only in a hospital do you get to enjoy the following things:

1 - Shots in your backside
2 - Band aids on your backside from the above mentioned shots
3 - An ice bucket containing your "liquid emissions" from the past 24 hours cooling on the bathroom counter
4 - Showering with a blue rubber glove over your iv port so you feel a bit like Michael Jackson
5 - Ice packs made from baby diapers
6 - Being woken up at 1 am to hang out with Velcro straps and monitors wrapped around your belly for an hour
7 - Lots and lots of pokes in your arm to suck your blood out
8 - Have someone bring you chocolate ice cream at 10 pm because you just can't get the broccoli taste out of you mouth from dinner (best nurse ever!)
9 - Getting to read an entire book in less than 2 days
10 - Updating your blog 2 times in one day because you have time!

Just a Little Adventure

What happens when you have the next 2 weeks all planned out?  Something is guaranteed to happen that will shoot those plans to you-know-where is what.

Starting last Friday, we had things planned out where we had help coming and going to assist in finishing projects, get things ready for the babies, etc. And then, reinforcements are arriving in the form of L's 19 year old niece who is staying for the entire month of July (unless she runs away after realizing what she has really agreed to).  So, all we had to do was make it 2 weeks and coast would be clear - there would be an extra body in the house in case anything happened, everything we needed to have finished would be done, I would have help with the kids, if I went into labor someone we had childcare covered, etc. Perfect!

In the meantime, my step-dad was coming up to help us finish the basement bathroom we are putting in to make L's niece's stay more comfortable.  And after that, my dad, step-mom, and sister and her family are arriving to celebrate the 4th of July holiday with us.  Perfect!

Then came Friday evening, a first time taking of a pill to slow some "practice" contractions I was having, a lovely meal prepared by my step-dad, followed by sharp uncomfortable pain, the shakes, and an overall feeling of "just not right".  Which then led to a shuttling of the kids to the neighbors, a quick trip to the ER, and hospital captivity that hasn't ended yet.

Long story short, no one is quite sure what is going on with me.  In fact, I was really close to being able to go back home Friday night after babies looked good on the monitor and I seemed to be doing better.  Better until I yakked up my entire dinner in the triage area of the Labor and Delivery Department - apparently that's a sign something ain't kosher.

So, after a long night of being admitted to the hospital, having blood drawn, liver enzyme count that apparently was through the roof, a never-ending ultrasound at 1 am looking at both babies and my internal organs by a tech that was less than enthusiastic about being woken up to come in and scan my parts, and an evening of no sleep, I am still here.  It is Sunday, and the earliest I can escape this joint, if ever, until babies come, is tomorrow morning.

You know what they say about best laid plans, right?

There are/were several theories but no definite answers about what is going on with me.

1 - I passed a gall stone
2 - Very rare reaction to the medication I took Friday night
3 - I have some scary liver issues that I could die from (theory eliminated and no longer a worry)
4 - I am in early stages of pre-eclampsia
5 - Who knows - I am just a complete freak

So, I am here while they run more tests including collecting lots of blood, monitoring the babies and contractions every 6 hours, 2 ultrasounds, and saving my liquid, ahem, "output" for the next 24 hours to test it. 

Worst part is I feel fine.  And I feel guilty. And I know there is laundry to do, and the babies' room isn't finished yet, and the floors are dirty, and we are out of milk, and L and my step-dad aren't getting to work as much on the basement as they need to, and I haven't vacuumed for a week, and we told K we would take him to CARS 2, and on and on and on.....

Best laid plans.......

Sittin' on my Duff

As my due date creeps slowly closer, my body is increasingly feeling the pain and pressure of carrying two little people in it.  I am starting to walk like a slow-moving elephant, and getting in and out of anything is increasingly comical.  And then there are the questions of my due date - they have turned from inquiries of interest to inquiries with hidden tones of  "Please tell me you are due soon because you are HUGE!".

Over the last week, the frequency of my Braxton Hicks contractions (or Fakey contractions as I call them) has increased.  They increased enough yesterday that I earned myself a trip to the hospital for some one-on-one time with a Non-Stress Test machine.  After an hour hooked up to 3 different monitors and a nurse checking me in unpleasant places, I have found myself sitting on the couch on "bed-rest".

And so it begins......

I'm having flashbacks to 6 1/2 years ago with Twin Pregnancy #1 when I found myself in the same position.  Sitting on my hiney, feeling completely helpless and unproductive - noticing every unclean nook and cranny of my house from my resting spot and making mental lists of all the things that need to be done that I can't do because I am supposed to be resting and off my feet.  Except this time, I am trying to manage three little people from the confines of the couch on top of it.

Luckily, thanks to some wonderful neighbors and some well-timed visits from family, the kids are for the most part scheduled to be entertained and engaged without me having to have the TV on for 16 hours straight.  

I'm crossing my fingers that given a couple days of inactivity, my body will calm down and I can resume normal function.  If not, the next couple weeks until these babies arrive may be a tad bit interesting!

Sleep (or Not So Much Sleep) Patterns

Several of you have asked how the "Pain in the Posterior" is going.  Basically, after 3 months of seeing the chiropractor, trying lots of different medications, and sleeping in all types of places it is still here.  So, an overnight usually goes like this:

10pm - Take nausea drug that kinda knocks me out and cross my fingers that it works
10:02pm - Use the restroom
10:15pm - Lay down
10:30pm - Fall asleep
11:30pm - Get up to use the restroom
11:45 - 12am - Toss and turn trying to find a spot where my butt doesn't hurt
12am - Give up and head to rocker in nursery
12:05am - Go to the restroom
12:15 - Fall asleep sitting straight up in rocker
2:15am - Go to restroom
2:30am - Fall back asleep in rocker sitting straight up
4:30am - Wake up and decide to try the bed again
4:32am - Go to restroom
4:35 - 5am - Go back to bed, toss and turn trying to find "non-pain in the butt" position
5am - Give up and go back to rocker
6:30am - Wake up in chair aching all over except for in butt, which feels fine
7-7:30am - Stand in shower for half hour trying to loosen up all my muscles from sleeping in a chair all night

During all of this L is trying to get a good night of sleep as well, which isn't going too well in between me flipping around all over the bed and disappearing into different chairs around the house at strange times at night. 

We both have decided we will probably get more sleep when the twins actually arrive versus this mess. 

Never thought I would say I am ready to have a baby so I can get more sleep.

Waving the White Flag

A certain body part of mine has given up.  It has basically said to me, "Over the past 6 years, you have placed 5 children on top of me.  Twice, you have put 2 at a time on top of me. I am tired of being squished, pushed, slammed, and pressed. I surrender!"  

That's right, my poor little bladder has raised the white flag.  Every sneeze, cough, lift or motion other than walking causes it teeter on the brink of failure.   And I don't blame it one bit.  It'd be tired too.  Especially when at my most recent ultrasound, it showed Baby A with his adorable little head resting right on top of it.  He's basically head down, with all his body weight shoving onto my bladder. If I were a teeny little bladder with a big baby head pushing on me, I'd be giving up too.

Although there are many reasons why I want my little friends to stay in and cook a little longer, I won't miss the creep of panic every time I feel a sneeze coming on once they arrive.   Right now, I spend half my day in the restroom trying to appease my excretory organ - I figure the more I can keep it close to empty the longer and more willing it will be to hang on.

In addition to Countdown to Sleeping Better, Taking Less than 10 Minutes to Get Out of Bed, Walking without a Waddle, Wearing Clothes that Don't Look Like Tents, and Seeing my Feet Again I am anxiously awaiting my dear bladder resuming normal function.

Top 10 Things That Just Ain't Gonna Happen Anymore

Lately, L and I have been entertaining ourselves with coming up with things that either will be impossible or just laughable once the babies arrive.  Thought I would share my Top 10 Things That Won't Happen if Our Entire Family is Together....

1. Any type of long distance travel that involves an airplane
2. Immediate seating at Chili’s on a weekend night
3. Walking into any public place without drawing attention
4. Hiring just one babysitter
5. Parking both cars in the garage (Picture 5 kids worth of bikes, scooters, wagons, strollers, etc)
6. Using just 1 lb. of ground beef to make dinner
7. Anyone besides crazy people inviting our family over for dinner
8. Movie night at home involving any film that is not rated G for at least 8 more years
9. Being able to leave all of our children with a single set of grandparents for more than 24 hours without someone passing out in exhaustion
10. Staying in one hotel room and everyone still having a bed to sleep in

Photographic Proof

To all of you who have said to me, 'You barely look pregnant from the back!" or "You're all belly." - just saw some photos of me taken of me when I wasn't aware I was being photographed. 

I have officially deemed all of you "Full of Crap".

Deep Thoughts...

Last months of pregnancy...

Where the line between fake contractions and constipation pains become blurred......

Neighbor's Words of Wisdom

Ever have one of those moments where God just grabs your attention?  It could be through a song, amazing nature, the kind deeds of others - a whole slew of things.  Last week God grabbed me through the words of a neighbor.

The typical reaction to our "news" varies between shock and awe (jaw drop, look of utter surprise, hand over the mouth), laughter, to all sorts of comments about how we are going to have our hands full, how busy we are going to be, how expensive paying for 5 kids will be, etc.  Pretty much the reactions that L and I had when we found out.

Last week I was outside with the kids when our neighbor lady from across the street came out to say hello.  I hadn't talked to her since before Xmas, so I looked a little different then I did 6 months ago.  (OK, a lot different, but lets not focus on the largeness people).  After chatting and catching up a bit, she asked the obvious question:  "So, when are you due?"

"Here we go", I thought.  Every time I get this question, it typically leads into the same conversation.  Second question will be "Do you know what you are having?", followed by, "Oh my gosh!  Do twins run in your family?  Did you use fertility?  You guys are going to be busy, blah blah blah..."

So, I just went ahead and spilled the beans all at once...
"My official date is August 9th, but will probably deliver in mid-July because it's twins again, a boy and a girl."

As I braced myself for the barrage of crazy questions, she said, "Oh my gosh - you are truly blessed.  What an amazing blessing.  Children are such a gift - God has granted you an amazing gift."

Excuse me?  Did you say I was blessed?  Did you say God had granted us an amazing gift?
No comments about how crazy our life was going to be?  Nothing about how hard having 5 children will be?  No intrusive questions about how the kids were conceived? 

It was like God had put his hands on my shoulders and shook me.  It was like he was saying to me, "Don't you get it?  Don't you realize how lucky you are? I have blessed you, so stop whining and worrying and being scared.  Embrace the gift you big dummy!"

God used my neighbor lady, and her amazing faith, to pull me out of my overwhelmed pity party.  She made me realize that we are blessed.  And no matter how hard, or chaotic, or crazy our life is, God has blessed us.  And I need to remember that.

Now, I can't guarantee that every time you talk to me, or every time I write, I am going to ooze grateful blessedness.  Because we are heading into a huge crazy mess that is going to be hard.  But, I am going to work on thanking God a lot more for what he has bestowed on us, and remembering that he will be walking with us on this journey.

Thank you neighbor lady, for speaking the truth, shaking me back onto a grateful path, and sharing God's voice with me.

Eatin' Crow

Earlier this week I shared my first "lesson" I think the Big Man Upstairs was teaching me.  Now it is time to share lesson #2.

"I will never, ever, ever drive a minivan." stated Heather.  "I don't care how much fossil fuel I waste, how much I spend on gas, or if we eat rice and beans all month to afford the payment - I will drive a Suburban before I get behind the wheel of a minivan."

My minivan loving friends would politely listen, nod their head understandingly, and then launch into all the benefits of the Mom-Wagon.  Electronic doors, ease of getting kids in and out, hauling their kids friends easily, automatic lift gate, yada yada, blah blah blah...

and I would think to myself - "But just look at it.  It says, 'I've given up. I have lost all coolness and succumbed to the world of mom jeans, spit up covered shirts, and purses containing more cracker crumbs and pacis than lipstick.'" and feel pity for them cruising around in their rectangular boxes of pathetic-ness.

And God sat up in heaven giggling......

When #4 and #5 appeared on the ultrasound screen, it quickly became apparent that our current vehicle was not going to work.   So, we started car shopping.  We investigated every large vehicle option known to man: the Suburban, the Yukon, the Expedition, The Excursion, a small school bus, that strange thing John and Kate +8 drive, a Winnebago.  We interviewed numerous families of 7 - what did they drive, how did they fit all the car seats in, did they really go anywhere all together in public anyway?

And the same solution kept popping up no matter how we tried to avoid it:  MINIVAN

So last Friday we broke down and headed to the Honda dealer and signed over my coolness, my hipness, my "I'm Never Driving a Minivan" persona and pulled out of the lot with this:

To all my friends who patiently listened while I slammed the minivan, I will be eating some crow for dinner tonight. 

And after that tasty avian dinner, I will push my remote key and open the doors for my children to hop in, use the in-dash navigation to plot our route to soccer practice, play some kiddie tunes off my I-Pod through the auxiliary doc, open the sunroof and cruise while I talk on the Bluetooth enabled phone.  All in my rectangular box of pathetic-ness.