Operation: Lose the Twin Weight (and then some)

We had a few friends over on Thanksgiving day. One of the guys was standing by a cork board in the kitchen where we have a few random pictures tacked up. He commented on how we had random people on the board and I proceeded to explain the photos -- Brian's friend Cory's senior picture (because it bugs him), a picture of 3 year old Brian climbing a barn (because my boys are just like their daddy), a baby picture of me (so that I can remind myself that some of my children do have my traits), and this picture:

When we got to this picture I said, "Do you know who this girl is?", pointing to the girl on the left. "No," he said jokingly, "but I wish I did." Yep, that's me. Everyone commented on how "young" I look in the picture. The reality of it? I'm about 60 pounds thinner in that photo. Yes, SIXTY.

It's more than just feeling "fat". I'm tired and have no energy and avoid going places where I have to get dressed in something other than yoga pants because nothing fits. Lack of sleep is certainly a factor, but I can't but feel that if I exercise, I'll feel more energized. At least that's what the experts say, right?

Last year for Christmas, I gave Brian 100 miles on the treadmill. In doing so (and not watching what I ate AT ALL), I lost 20 pounds. I felt more energized, was comfortable in my own skin, and dare I say it, felt relatively attractive. Then the twins happened, along with the expected weight gain. I've so far lost 30 pounds since having the boys, but have been at a plateau for the last few weeks. I have another 20 pounds to lose til I'm back at my pre-twin weight, which means that right now I weigh EXACTLY what I weighed at this time last year. I'm not going to go crazy about the weight loss, but I am committing to 100 miles on the treadmill (or outside since I'm in FL now). I don't need to look like I did in that photo, I just want to have more energy for my boys and my hubby. And I want to feel good about myself.

Cheese!

You know how newborns "smile" in their sleep? And how it's very often accompanied by some passing of gas? Yeah, I don't count those as "first smiles". Don't get me wrong, I'm a firm believer in the fact that you can write down whatever you want in the baby book, because really, it's your kid and what does it matter? But my definition of a "first smile" is when your baby looks you in the eye while wide awake and purposely gives you a big grin.

Today, while enjoying some one-on-one time with Beckett, he took a deep breath, coo-ed, and gave me a big grin. It melted my heart to a big blob of mommy love. Then, a few hours later, Kiernan was sitting on his Daddy's lap and while I stooped down to say hi to him, he gave me a great big smile too. It's moments like this that make it all worthwhile.

MoMs

Now that I've joined the ranks of MoMs (Mothers of Multiples -- yeah, I have an acronym now. Be jealous. Or not.), I've discovered that there are lot more sets of multiples in this world than I originally thought. I met a fellow twin mom through a friend, and she suggested I join her at a meeting of the local Mothers of Multiples club. I figured what better place to find advice on surviving twin motherhood than in a group full of people who've done it?

So, I managed to make it out of the house for a few hours -- childless. The women had twins of varying ages, along with other children. One reoccuring theme I noticed was that very few had other children if the twins were their first. And if they had older children, they didn't have any more kids after their twins. Funny observation, and maybe a glimpse into my reproductive future. While I'm not sure that I would be friends with most of these women if I met them in the street, it was nice to be in a group of people who've been through what I'm going through now and have lived to tell the tale. They were warm and welcoming. Advice and support was free-flowing. All in all, I'll definitely return for the next meeting. If nothing else, it's an evening out of the house!

2 year olds are LOUD.

The twins are growing out of that super sleepy newborn phase and (especially lately) are getting to be a bit high maintenance when it comes to sleep. I spend so.much.time. rocking, bouncing, shushing, and soothing them to sleep during the day that I get a bit neurotic about protecting that sleep. Which would be fine ... if I didn't have a 2 year old too. Is it just my child, or are all toddlers unable to control their volume? I'm guessing it's probably the norm. And if it's not, let's just pretend that it is, for my sanity's sake OK?

Today both babies fell asleep on the family room floor while propped in their Boppies. After I picked up my jaw off of the floor, I spent the following 30 minutes trying to keep big brother "quiet". We played the "shhhhhhh" game for awhile, where I put my finger to my lips, tell him to shhhh, and tip toe obnoxiously around the house. He thinks it's really fun for about 5 minutes. Then I tried to get him to go on the back porch to play in the sand and water table, which is usually a HUGE hit. Um, no dice. Then I suggested we go out front and ride his trike. NO WAY MOM. He wanted to "fix" things, which means walk around the house and bang his hammer on everything. And apparently we really let things go around this house lately because everything needed fixed, especially things that were within 5 feet of the twins. So while I was trying to get him to do something else, he started to throw a huge tantrum. Needless to say, their naptime was very rudely interrupted by big brother's workmanship and mommy had to make a huge effort not to reach into the fridge and grab a beer at 11am.

Same stuff, different day.

I've been chomping at the bit to get back to writing, but every time I have a few seconds to sit down, I can't seem to decide what to write about. My life is literally consumed by caring for my family. I eat sleep breathe them. It takes every ounce of energy within me to keep going, and by the time I have a spare moment to myself, I don't have the mental ability to decide what to do with it. So, here's a very rough "day in the life" post from a SAHM with a 2 year old and 9 week old twins. Get ready, it's a bumpy ride!

(All times are a pretty rough estimate...)

• 5:30am - One baby gets up to eat, then goes back to bed.


• 6:00am - I get the next baby up to eat, then goes back to bed.


• 6:30am - I pump. Then I get in the shower and get started with my day. Occasionally, if I went to bed really late and I'm extremely exhausted, I'll go back to bed. But if I do this, my whole day is thrown off, so I try to avoid it.


• 7:00am - Maybe a shower, then make the bed, empty the dishwasher, wash bottles and pump parts from the night time. Vacuum the family room and try to squeeze in some kind of cleaning, but usually all I get to do is laundry.


• 8:00am - All 3 boys begin to wake up. I get Brennan his milk, change his diaper, and put on a TV show for him. If one baby wakes up before the other, I'll put him to breast until the other one wakes up. In order to feed them, I prop them each in a Boppy on the floor, prop a bottle in each of their mouths, and pump while sitting on the floor in front of them. This way, I can burp and change their diapers while I pump. Then it's playtime for everyone.


• 9:30am - I start to try to put the babies down for a morning nap. This process is sometimes long, sometimes short, sometimes works, sometimes doesn't. Lately, Beckett fights sleep and Kiernan drifts fairly peacefully. In between trying to get them to sleep, I feed Brennan breakfast.


• 11:00am - Diaper change and snack time for Brennan (I have to make it a point to change his diaper when I feed him, otherwise I forget to do it. Poor kid). Hopefully the babies are sleeping. But they probably are not, so I'm usually trying to soothe the one that isn't sleeping. I try to pump at this point too.


• 12:00pm - Time to feed the babies again. Hopefully, it's a tandem feed while pumping again. If not, then one and a time.


• 12:30pm - Lunch time for Brennan. I try to pump if the babies are happy.


• 1:30pm - Diaper change and naptime for Brennan. Time to start soothing babies to sleep again too. This is always the toughest part of the day to get them to sleep for some reason. And lately, Beckett is very fussy in the afternoons. Putting him to breast sometimes helps calm him and sometimes just frustrates him. He also is so tired that he won't take a full feeding, even from the bottle, and falls asleep. Then, he wakes up hungry in 20 minutes. I'm lucky if I can get him to sleep on me, but even then I can't move or make any noise or he'll wake up. If Kiernan is having a fussy day too, you can imagine how bad it is. I also try to wash bottles at this point.


• 4:00pm - In a perfect world, the babies would be waking up from their naps and eating now. We'll see if that will ever happen. But Kiernan is usually awake by now and ready to eat. I feed whoever needs to be fed and attempt to pump.


• 4:30pm - Brennan wakes up and is ready for milk, a snack, and a diaper change. (Yes, he takes 3 hour naps. It's my saving grace).


• 5:00pm - I start to think about dinner (in a perfect world). Playtime for all the boys.


• 5:30pm - Attempt to put babies down for naps. This usually doesn't work and by now their both insanely cranky and overtired. The swing sometimes helps at this point. Then attempt to cook something.


• 6:30pm - Brian gets home, changes Brennan's diaper, picks up any baby slack I need him to, and we eat dinner. Then I attempt to pump.


• 7:00pm - Start cleaning the kitchen. Start baths and bottles for babies and a bath for Brennan. This is pretty chaotic and is an insanely long process.


• 8:30pm - Bedtime for Brennan. Babies may or may not be in bed; if not, we keep trying. Clean up the family room, finish cleaning kitchen, and continue laundry. Brian and I either spend time together, do work around the house, or he does work and I go to bed early.


• 11:00pm-4:30am - The babies usually wake up once or twice during this time to eat. I feed one, then the other, then pump. The process takes at least 1.5 hrs. If they wake up at the same time, Brian will feed one.


• Whenever they wake up in the morning (usually around 5:30), I start the process all over again!

So that's life. I'm probably forgetting something (or several things). And these times are all INCREDIBLY estimated. Most days, there is no rhyme or reason to what happens, no matter how hard I try.

Right now, it's chaotic, and made more chaotic by my/their inability to exclusively breastfeed and therefore the necessity of fitting in pumping sessions. This is a very sensitive topic for me and someday I'll write about it, but I'm not ready to yet as I feel like the story is not complete. And it's also very difficult for me to get them to sleep during the day. Unlike Brennan, who as a baby liked to be cuddled a bit, then laid in his crib to sleep, they need to be swaddled, rocked, shushed, bounced, soothed to sleep. It's time consuming and the 2nd one usually gets fussy and starts crying before the first one is ready to sleep. The swing sometimes helps, but not all the time. To get out of the house is difficult. It takes an insane amount of time to get them ready, even for just a walk, and by the time we're ready to leave, they need to eat again. So, we don't get out much. Just the occasional walk around the block.

I keep telling myself that they're only 9 weeks old (7 weeks adjusted age) and that babies this age cannot be expected to be on a schedule yet. I know this, but at the same time, I YEARN for some kind of reguarity, just a taste of a routine. I want to be able to devote time to Brennan again. I want to be able to feel like my house is clean. I want to be able to exercise and feel like I'm making an effort to lose this twin weight. I want to be able to do crafts and cute memory things for the boys. I want to be able to go grocery shopping, or meet up with friends, or just to go SOMEWHERE. But, I keep reminding myself that it's only been 2 months. I just need to be patient, which is very frustrating. But I do it because I love my boys. All 4 of them. And I'll continue to run on this treadmill called life in order to make their lives better.

Life saver

My days ay home alone with my 3 boys are chaotic at best.  I try to keep it as close to an organized chaos as I can, but some days its just impossible.  Having 2 newborns is one thing, but a very active 2 year old who is trying to get used to sharing mommy's attention is a whole different battle.  He tests my patience on an hourly basis.  But just when I think I might UPS him up to Grammy's house, he redeems himself.  Usually it's with a hug or kiss for me, but more and more often, he's showing unsolicited affection toward his brothers.  Yesterday, I was about to "gently remind" him not to step on the baby, when he stopped, stooped down to Kiernan, said "Aww baby!", and started to shower him with kisses.  It was the sweetest thing I've ever seen ... and it's keeping me from killing him!

Fenugreek, Blessed Thistle, Mothers Milk tea, oh my!

Life is great.  Beautiful babies, an incredibly cute toddler, an amazing and helpful husband ... what more could a girl ask for?  Well, other than sleep.

But no matter how great life is, it's also insanely busy.  Or at least it seems busy. 

My days consist of nursing, supplementing with a bottle, pumping, maybe catching a nap, but usually spending time with Brennan instead.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  Breastmilk supply issues are causing extra steps that clog up the day, but it's all in hopes of establishing a large enough supply for these growing boys.  So on top of my Lovenox injections twice a day, baby aspirin, and vitamins, I'm taking herbal supplements and drinking tea to help increase my supply.  Here's hoping it'll all pay off!

Short and Not-So-Sweet.

Yes, I am still pregnant. Apparently my cervix is made of steel. Not a bad thing when trying to stay pregnant, but I'm not doing that anymore. So now it sucks. If it's still closed when I go the doctor this week I might cry.

If you want to know what being 37 weeks pregnant with twins feels like, just imagine your stomach muscles being pulled as far forward as possible. So far forward in fact that your back muscles are tender to the touch. Add in frequent and painful contractions and you get one happy mama. Ha!

Thankfully, our steady stream of helpers are keeping the kiddo occupied and the house clean.

The end.

A day late and a dollar short

It just occurred to me that I forgot to post my 35 week picture last week. The belly is still growing rapidly. Yesterday I officially hit 36 weeks, which is the average length of a twin pregnancy. Once I get around to putting some real clothes on I'll take a 36 week picture and post it. Even though I'm completely miserable, I still want to hold out another 6 days or so til I hit 37 weeks. It's been my goal all along to reach 37 weeks so that my babies have the best chance possible of being big and strong and good eaters. Say some prayers for us!

"In the event of a hurricane, do NOT proceed to Labor & Delivery unless you are in labor."

Clearly, this statement needed to be written, or I'm sure my OB practice wouldn't have included it in their OB patient info book.

  I remember reading this page when I received the book back at the beginning of my pregnancy and laughing.  It went on to say that the unit gets too crowded with people who do not need to be there and runs out of room for those who do.  It then goes on to say that if you are not in labor and do not have a current medical complication with your pregnancy, you will be asked to leave and not given a bed.  Hil.ar.i.ous.  I guess I'm picturing people with little 30 week bellies running to L&D in the event of a hurricane, just because they're pregnant.  It's laughable really.  You can almost liken it to patients I've had in the past coming in because they have a cold or threw up once.  You just want to say to them, "You are pregnant.  It is not a disease.  There is no reason to be in L&D in the middle of the night.  In fact, I can do even less for you because you are pregnant.  Now go home and call your doctor in the morning ... if you can manage to live that long."

Don't get me wrong, with hurricane Irene giving us the side-eye, it's definitely a little nerve-wracking to be this pregnant (especially with twins) and to wonder if in fact all that barometric pressure hub-bub is actually true.  I definitely wouldn't want to deliver twins at home by myself if I couldn't get to the hospital.  But trust me, you won't see me camping out in the waiting room waiting to go into labor any time soon.  I don't think I could stand to be around anxious families for that long.  In fact, I think I might opt for that home birth instead!

Flutters.

There aren't many things I'll miss about being pregnant.  In fact, there's really only one. 

I've been laying in bed for almost an hour and a half.  Everyone else is sound asleep, but not me.  And tonight its not because of restless legs or contractions or ligament pain.  It's because of the flurry of activity going on in my belly.  Am I exhausted?  Yes.  Would I kill for some sleep right now?  Of course.  But I'm not upset about losing sleep tonight.  Instead, I'm savoring this feeling and tucking it away in my memory bank.

Feeling your child(ren) move inside you is an amazing feeling - a privilege I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to experience.  From the very first flutters, I've felt a special bond with these boys, just like I did with Brennan.  I'm their mom and I'd give up my life for them.  And those little flutters remind me of that every day, just like Brennan's hugs and kisses do now.  It's something no one else will ever experience with them.  The selfish part of me loves that fact and I don't feel guilty because I've given up my body for them, and will continue to do so.

So I'll take this lack of sleep and enjoy my boys tonight, because I know its just a matter of time before they'll be on the outside and I'll have to share them with the rest of the world.

Baby Barracuda

There are few things in this world that make my child's head spin like telling him he's going to go swimming.  He drops what he's doing and sprints around the house screaming, "waaaa waaaaa!!  Simmmm!!  Poooooo!!!"  (Water, swim, pool!) 

So in July we started Parent/Child swim classes, cleverly titled Baby Barracuda class, which involves kids ages 6 months to 3 years getting "acquainted" with the water (read: dunked and then sang songs to in order to calm down).  It's loud, chaotic, there are never less than 2 kids screaming, but we have a blast. 

Brennan and I used to go twice a week because A.) It was a way for him to burn energy that I could still keep up with him and B.) The glorious feeling of weightlessness while in the pool is indescribable when carrying around 2 extra bodies (not to mention a toddler.  Sidenote:  It blows my mind a bit that this is probably the only time in life I'll ever be able to carry all 3 of my munchkins at once.  Insane.  But, I digress...)

July was heavenly for me, but our little barracuda is a bit insane in the water and I doubt his brothers enjoy kicks to the head from the outside when they already have to deal with cranial blows from each other.  So it's Daddy's turn to tame the wild water beast.  The Saturday class consists of 7 little boys and one girl.  It's wild and crazy and so much fun to watch my boys swim (and especially entertaining to watch my husband try to sing along with the nursery rhymes he for some reason never learned ... our kids get Billy, Bruce, and Bob instead of the Itsy Bitsy Spider ... again with the digression). 

But as cute as it is, I miss being in that water and day dreaming that I weigh 120 pounds and do not have an abdomen that rivals my late grandfathers beer belly.  If these boys aren't out next Saturday, mama's parking herself in the corner of the pool to watch the madness occur!

Fluff

You may or may not know that we started using cloth diapers a few months ago. It first peaked my interest last fall, but we all know how chaotic life was then, so it fell by the wayside. Fast forward to January during my last visit with my dear friend Janelle before our move. She had mentioned her plans to CD (cloth diaper) her new baby and during this visit took the time to show me her stash and explain some things about it. I was intrigued. But again, with the chaos of moving and then finding out I was preggo and beginning to puke my brains out, it got put on the back burner.

Once I was a few weeks into my 2nd trimester and was starting to feel a bit better, we started to really discuss the logistics of having twins. The fact that we would soon have THREE kids in diapers sounded expensive. When I sat down to do the math, I realized that it didn't just sound expensive, it was DEFINITELY going to cost us a pretty penny. Depending on the kind of diapers you buy, the average amount spent to diaper a baby from birth through potty training is right around $2500. And Brennan wasn't able to wear anything but Pampers without getting a nasty rash, so even with coupons, it was expensive to keep his butt dry. Depending on what kind of CD you choose to use, you can spend anywhere between $200 and $1000 on a stash for one baby, washing diapers every other day. So even if I chose the most expensive kind and bought enough to wash every other day (for 3 boys) I'm still saving a nice chunk of change. And for those of you wondering about the water bill? Washing every other day, we've barely noticed an increase in the bill. We're expecting about a $10 bump per month once the twins are born. Laundry soap? You can choose to use pricey CD soap or regular laundry soap. Either way, you use a very small amount because it can cause build up on the diapers and cause them to not work effectively. Again, we haven't noticed that we're spending more on detergent at all.

By this time, Janelle had given birth to her sweet little bundle and was enjoying wrapping her little bum in cloth everyday. She shared lots of info with me, which was a major help to kick off my research into the world of CDs. I read everything I could, did tons of research, joined a CD group in Facebook through a friend, and decided it was time to jump in.

I bought a few different kinds of diapers and began experimenting. I'll admit, it did take a few weeks to get into a good routine for laundry and just navigating the in's and out's of CDing. But all in all, it was really easy. Diaper laundry really takes minimal time. With one kid in CDs, I do diaper laundry about every 1.5-2 days. And it's the easiest laundry EVER. Because there's no sorting or folding. It's by far my favorite load of laundry to do! And no, I'm not up to my elbows in poop, nor do I come into contact with it any more than I did when he was in disposables. Nor does the poop get into the washing machine. You simply dump it out of the diaper into the toilet and rinse with a diaper sprayer if you so desire. Or you use biodegradable, flushable liners so that the poop doesn't even touch the diaper. Easy peasy.

And the real beauty? I haven't had to shell out any money to buy diapers in MONTHS. It's awesome. Not to mention the fact that I'm not filling landfills with plastic and chemicals. That's just an added bonus! (Please know that I'm not judging anyone who chooses to use disposables. Heck, I used them for the first 20 months of his life! And it's everyone's own personal choice what to put on their kiddo's bum. I'm just pointing out the truth - they sit in landfills and will still be sitting there when our kids are diapering their kids. Sad :( I'd be lying if I said that that was the primary reason for switching. It's not - it was totally a money thing. But doing my part to save the planet feels very very good.)

I really just scratched the surface of this topic, but I feel like going through all of the details in one post would make for a realllllllllllllly long and boring read. So I'll post more about the details (the downfalls, different types of diapers, etc) later. If you have questions, feel free to comment and I can try to answer them in one of my next posts!

Please excuse me while I rant like a crazy woman.

I have a complaint. It's not that I don't like facebook. I do. I sometimes feel like it's my link to the outside world when I'm stuck at home with a huge belly and a crazy toddler. But I think that people abuse it.

Some people choose to post every detail of their lives on facebook. Others choose not to. Either is fine and it's obviously a personal preference. However the lines blur when those who post everything on fb decide to post details about other people's lives on either their own fb wall or the other person's wall. Quite frankly, this drives me bat.shit.crazy.

Now, I realize that it may come off as bitchy and that people generally have very good intentions and are just excited about good news. But I can't help but wonder if these people can't stop themselves for a split second, get a hold of their excitement, and think about the people they are posting about. Maybe they don't want this news on fb yet because they'd like to make the announcement themselves. Just because you heard it through the grapevine, doesn't mean it's necessarily "facebook public" yet. Or maybe these people don't want it on facebook at all. Ever think of that?!

I say this because a very close friend just had a her first little bundle of joy. She didn't want people to know she was going in to be induced and told a VERY select few of us, who she knew could keep our mouths shut. So today she had the baby and one of her relatives posted it on fb. Now, this relative is SUPER sweet and I'm sure was just excited. But I felt the need to say (first, congrats!) "are you sure they're ok with you posting this on fb? don't want you getting in trouble!". Apparently they were either not OK with it yet or she thought twice about it because the post was removed within 10 mins of making it. This however did not stop the other person who commented on the post from going straight to the new mommy's wall (where NOTHING had been posted yet) and writing a gushing congratulatory post. And 20 mins later, another relative posted the news on her own wall. Ugh. I gave up at this point.

Again, I'm probably coming off as bitchy. But think about how this new mommy probably felt. She went to great lengths to keep things a secret so that she could maintain some privacy and ultimately spread the news herself. Instead, some well-meaning folks stole all of that from her in a few sentences. How unfair is that? Not to mention the fact that she and her hubby come from very large families and how pissed would YOUR grandma be if she found out from someone on fb that you had a baby before you (or your parents) had a chance to call her? Yikes.

So the take-home message for today is: if you hear good news about someone else, stop and think before spreading it all over the world wide web. You could put a damper on a very special day in someone's life by not controlling your excitement. My rule of thumb? If someone hasn't mentioned it on their own fb wall, then it's not yet "facebook public" and I'm keeping my cyber-voice shut.

That's all for today. Thanks for listening :D

My name is Kelli, and I hate clutter.

I can't help but wonder when I turned into a neat freak.

I mean, I'm certainly not as much of a clean freak as a lot of people I know. Yet slowly but surely I've begun to turn into my mother. I have to empty the dishwasher and vacuum the family room first thing in the morning. I can't stand clutter on the counter tops. I have to get up and do the dishes immediately after dinner. And I can't relax at night until the dishwasher is running, the counters are disinfected, Brennan's toys are cleaned up, and all of the clutter is put away. There's just something so refreshing about waking up to a clean house. Oh my God ... that's my mom's line.

None of these things are especially neurotic in my opinion, but if you knew me at all in my previous life (a.k.a. any time before moving to Florida/getting pregnant) you'd be AMAZED at how irritable I get when I'm not able to accomplish these tasks. I mean, I was a class A, award winning SLOB. Just ask my parents, sisters, college roommates, husband ... any of them will tell you that my room rivaled the look of the houses on Hoarders.

And then I got a little better when I had Brennan. The thought of letting my kid live in filth grossed me out. But the clutter didn't necessarily bother me. And then ... we moved to Florida. And I got pregnant. And a switch flipped. And I became the crazy anti-clutter, things must be cleaned my way lady.

I don't see this as a bad thing in the least. Part of me thinks that since I'm now a SAHM, I take the responsibility of keeping a clean house, and a routine, a lot more seriously because I have the time and energy to do so. Working nights, and an irregular schedule, leaves you with zero energy and makes it very difficult to get into a routine. Now that that lifestyle is behind me, I'm finding it easier, not to mention more enjoyable, to stick to a routine and provide my family with a clean environment ... even if they just mess it up.

The thing that's throwing me for a loop lately is the fact that I'm having difficulty keeping up with it. And people that come to help don't necessarily have the same cleaning motivation and priorities that I do. So things aren't getting done in the order in which I'd like them to. And many aren't getting done at all. And I'm having to take a deep breath and convince myself that the world will not end. I just need to let my inner-control-freak calm itself. People are here to help and don't necessarily need to do things my way, as long as Brennan is taken care of.

But that doesn't mean I can't count down the days til my Mom comes to help me clean this place ... and do things the RIGHT way ;)

The final countdown.

On Tuesday I will officially be 34 weeks pregnant. Hallelujah. Not that I'm ready for them to be born at 34 weeks, because I still want to squeeze a few more weeks outta these boys. But for me, 34 weeks = relative safety. Sure, it means a little time spent in the NICU, which of course I don't want. But if it happened, I wouldn't freak out. I'd be sad yes, but frantically neurotic, no. They couldn't come right home with me like I'd hoped, but they'd be fine. And then we could all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

With that said, I'm still plugging along through this pregnancy. I feel giant and more uncomfortable with each passing day. My uterus is measuring 42cm, which is bigger than most full-term singleton pregnancies ever reach. I've gained 40 pounds (yikes) and still have 5 more to go to make it to the goal set by my OB. I can't sleep because my legs would like to run a marathon at night (restless legs = awful) and my giant belly makes it very difficult to find a comfortable position. Not to mention that I probably have 9 pounds of baby resting on my bladder, which requires hourly trips to the bathroom. If I sit for too long, my upper back hurts. If I stand for too long, my lower back hurts. If I lay on one side for too long, my side and hip hurt. My crotch hurts no matter what I do.

When I think about the fact that I could have to live like this for another 4 weeks, I want to curl up into a ball and cry. But one thing keeps me going -- these boys. I want them to have the best possible chance at coming straight home with me after they're born. That means NO (long term) NICU TIME. Which means that I will suffer through all of this garbage for 4 more weeks, even if it kills me. But I've also seen plenty of 35 or 36 weekers go home with mom, so that thought keeps me motivated to keep plugging along for just another week or two. Thinking about what's best for my boys keeps me sane. So that's what I'll keep on doing.

I'll leave you with a 33.5 week belly shot ...

... someday I'll wear makeup and do my hair again ...

Live and learn.

Can you remember a time in your life when you were really, really happy with your body? I can't. Wait, lemme think ... OK, yeah, nope, still nothing.

So when I'm perusing through old pictures and come across pictures like this one ...

and this one....

... I can't help but want to reach out and shake this girl. REALLY? You thought you were fat?! That body was healthy. Not the skinniest I'd ever been ... still some meat on my bones. But HEALTHY. And beautiful. I'd KILL for that body right now. Hell, I'd kill for that body plus 15 pounds right now!

This isn't me hating on my current body. Clearly, I'm going to be at my heaviest weight ever when I'm carrying around 2 extra people inside my belly. And it's not me hating on my body before I got pregnant. Working nights, aging, a previous pregnancy, and motherhood have changed it over the years. When you're carrying around an extra 40 pounds of baby and stuff, you find yourself longing for your former body, which you thought was gross. And not even the old old one. I'm just anxious to have the old one back so I can work on getting back to the old old one. Or somewhat close. I've accepted that and will strive to get healthier after I have these boys, not for vanity sake, but for my emotional and physical health. I want to be a fit, healthy mom for my boys. But still, that's not what this post is about.

It's about perspective. I wish I'd had the perspective years ago to look at myself and my body with pride. I wish I would've felt comfortable in my own skin. I want to tell that girl from years ago to enjoy herself the way she is. Because life catches up to you too quickly to dwell on things like appearance. Focus on health and the other things will fall into place.

Oh, and P.S. Sister, he loves you for you, not for what you look like. Because otherwise, he wouldn't build a wonderful life with you and bring 3 beautiful boys into the world with you. So just date him already.

I've got friends in low places.

Low as in Florida. But the whiskey sure isn't drowning, nor is the beer chasing my blues away. But oh, do I wish it was. I'm dying for a beer. Anyways, I digress.

When you live in the same town for your entire life, you tend to keep the same friends around. Sure, friendships ebb and flow. Once in high school, I stopped hanging out with my friends from grade school. They liked to drink and I was too afraid of my parents busy studying. But I quickly made new friends, many of whom I'm still very close with today. One of those girls became my roommate in college and together we made even more fabulous friends.

When you're in a school environment, you're almost forced to make friends. Everyone else is in the same boat as you. But moving to a brand new city, in a brand new state you don't usually have that luxury. Luckily, I had a group of "ready-made friends" waiting for me. The wives and girl friends of Brian's coworkers are wonderful women who welcomed me with open arms. Several of us have had/will have babies in 2011, so we have mommyhood in common. But sometimes I find myself a bit sad for Brennan because he doesn't have anyone his age to play with.

Since I found out I was pregnant the minute we moved here and very quickly started wretching my brains out all day long, and subsequently had a super-crazy-fast moving pregnancy thanks to the fact that I'm growing not one, but two munchkins, Brennan and I haven't explored as much as I'd hoped. So finding friends has been difficult.

But, I have managed to have some success. I met one mom of a 2 year old little girl through a craigslist deal (I know, it sounds sketchy, but she's very normal). Despite several attempts, we just haven't been able to make a play date happen. Then I met another mom expecting twins during our birth suite tour. She spotted us eating dinner at a local restaurant and came over to swap contact info so we could have a playdate in the future. That CLEARLY hasn't happened as we're both HUGE pregnant and have other children to run around after. The thought of that playdate just makes me tired. We also met a 3 year old boy and his mom in our Mommy-and-Me swim classes. Although there's a bit of an age difference between our boys, she and I hit it off quickly after learning that we're both recent "transplants" from the midwest. Again, contact info swapped, no playdate yet.

I think it's just because I'm tired. And the fact that it's physically painful for me to be running around too much. If I was full term with a singleton, I'd say bring on the pain, bring on the labor, but I have to get a few more weeks out of these boys, so I avoid the exertion at all costs. I'm hoping that someday when I call one of these ladies and ask if they'd like to come over for a playdate, that they don't think I'm weird and lame for getting around to it months later. But they all seem very cool and understanding. So while I feel like I've been fairly successful in making friends outside of the company-circle, I have yet to turn them into actual friendships. At least it's progress!

Hi Michigan, Bye Michigan

**Warning ... way too many pictures ahead!**

We had quite a whirlwind trip back to the mitten last weekend. After booking our tickets months ago, we went back and forth for FOREVER trying to figure out how to see the people we wanted to see, accomplish what we wanted to accomplish, and keep things even between the two families. After awhile, we resigned ourselves to the fact that we'll never be able to see everyone we want to see, do everything we want to do, and keep things even ... especially in 4 days.

So, we broke it down as evenly as we could and stayed with Brian's family for the first three nights and mine for the last two. This made the most sense since Brian's sister and brother-in-law were going to arrive on Thursday night/Friday morning and my sister wouldn't be in town til Saturday night.

One thing that we were both pretty insistent on doing was taking Brennan to Ann Arbor. It's very near and dear to our hearts and we not only wanted to share it with our kiddo (yes, we realize he'll never remember it and that it was totally just for our benefit) but we also needed to stock up a bit on U of M gear. So Friday morning we packed up the kiddo and headed north. First things first, we stopped at hubby's old frat house. It burned down a few years back and they're still in the rebuilding process. While we lived in Michigan, he was on the alumni board and very involved, but hasn't seen the progress on the house since last fall. It was nice to see the rebuilding process as the house holds so many great memories for both of us, but especially Brian. After the visit to DU, we enjoyed some shopping, walked around the Diag a bit, and headed to Jerusalem Garden for lunch.

Daddy & Brennan in the Diag ... **Gag Alert** These benches are very special to us. It's where Brian first told me he loved me and where he proposed to me 5 years ago!

Playing on the "M" ... legend has it that if you step on the "M" you'll fail your first Blue Book exam. Sorry buddy, I think you screwed yourself.

Later that day, we picked up Brian's sister Jen and her hubby Brian (I know, weird right?) and headed to the Toledo Zoo. We hadn't been there in a few years, but both went frequently as kids, so it was nice to share it with Brennan. And Brian pushed me around in a wheelchair since I hit my walking quota that morning. FYI, wheelchair vinyl is extra hot when wearing jean shorts and you will feel like you peed your pants when out in 90 degree weather. Yuck.

Brian's parents both had to work on Friday, so after the zoo, we met them for dinner. Mexican food = yummy. Not being able to share the margarita pitcher = crappy.

Saturday morning Brennan and I went to visit my dear friend Jessica and her beautiful babies, including a fresh one I hadn't yet met. Brennan and her son Matthew played together next to each other, while I got to snuggle on her sweet little Makenzie. The visit was way too short, but it was fabulous to see them. We had to head back to my in-laws' house to help with party preparations. Brian's grandma will turn 99 in a few weeks and we had her birthday party while most of the grandkids were in town. It was awesome to see the family and eat cake.

Me & Gram ... yes, she's 99. Doesn't look a day over 80 does she? We've established that Brian will definitely out-live me. I'm OK with that.

Brennan & Aunt Jen ... notice the balloons? Jen & Brian blew up 99 red balloons for the party. That's how they roll.

Sunday we headed to mass with both of our families, then headed to my aunt's house for our annual 4th of July party. Brennan had so. much. fun. chasing bubbles, swinging on the swing, and driving the golf cart. He was sooooo happy that day.

On the swing with Aunt Trix & Grammy

Driving already?!

Monday was my very favorite day. We had a quick photo shoot with our favorite photographer (who happens to be my sister's best friend) to capture The Belly in all of it's glory. Brennan did not cooperate for any cute big brother/belly shots, but every time I think he was awful, she manages to get amazing shots. I have no doubt this time will be the same.

The rest of the day we did NOTHING. We relaxed in the pool at my parents' house and spent time with my family. Brennan loved every minute of pool time and learned to count down from three when Daddy threw him up in the air. TooIt made me miss living in Michigan, where we could do this every weekend if we wanted. My friend Janelle and her adorable mini-me joined us for a bit too. It's always a breath of fresh air to see great friends.

So much fun in the pool with Daddy

Tuesday morning we headed back to FL. We were lucky enough to be upgraded to first class on the way back ... I think the lady at the ticket counter felt sorry for the lady with the giant belly, a toddler, and her husband the pack mule. Whatever, I'll totally take sympathy if it allows me to enjoy a nice big seat!

We don't know when we'll make it back the mitten again, so it was nice to enjoy our time there while we could. The jury is still out on whether or not we'll be crazy enough to attempt a trip at Christmas-time with a 2-year-old and two 4-month-olds. We'll cross that bridge (or just jump off of it) when we get there!

nails on a chalkboard

There are some sounds in this world that always give me goosebumps. Styrofoam sliding against, well, anything. People chewing their cuticles (even though I'm guilty of it myself). Teeth grinding (ahem, Brennan). My husband's disgusting phlegmy-cough thing he does to clear his throat because he apparently never learned how to clear his throat like a normal person.

But lately, the biggest thing is loud chewing. You know, the person that is eating chips and can be heard a mile away. It seems like I've come across more of these kinds of people lately. Maybe it's because I'm preggo and VERY cranky lately, but this noise irritates the living poop out of me. And it always seems to be someone who eats a lot. Like, an annoying amount of food.

My most recent encounter with a loud chewer was a friend, who is quite possibly one of the nicest people ever born, but also one of the loudest chewers ever born too. It took every ounce of will power in my body not to scream at him to stop taking any more taco chips. Seriously dude, stop with the chips.

Yeah, go ahead and say what you're thinking. It's OK. I'm perfectly aware that pregnancy hormones = bitchiness for this mama. I'm currently growing two humans -- and their collective weight is almost 8 pounds. And I still have 6-8 weeks to go. So as long as I can bite my tongue and not be mean to people's faces, I'm letting the bitchiness flow here on the internet :D

A little bit of everything

Please excuse the following flight of ideas. I've clearly been absent from the blog world for too long and I'll be honest, for no apparent reason. So this is my attempt to make up for it. :D

Brennan's room has been painted and he's all moved in. It still needs to be decorated and fine-tuned, but I LOVE it already. See? Super cute, in my opinion. You can't tell, but the walls are more of a light blue than the gray-ish they appear in the photos. Obviously, it needs a lot more work, but we'll get there. It's on the list for July.

The nursery took a bit of a back seat to life for longer than I wanted it to. But we were finally able to paint it and found a dresser on Craigslist that's waiting to be primed and painted. I'd post pictures, but it's still a hot hot hot mess in there. All in time, my friends.

That's where the progress ended because we had visitors this weekend. It was awesome to see Larry and Caitlyn, and I didn't even stress about having people in my house. This is probably due in part to the fact that I'm getting too tired to care, partly because they are just low-maintenance people, and partly because they helped us move out of our old house. Which means they helped us clean parts of our house that you just don't really clean often. The really really embarrassingly filthy parts. And they still wanted to be our friends after it was all said and done. Good people, those two. I'm tellin' ya.

My birthday was last Wednesday ... the big 2-8. I didn't expect much and wasn't at all stressed about getting older. I had a nice relaxing day with the kiddo, then we headed off to Brian's office to pick him up and head to dinner. I called when we got there and he said he wanted to show me some new clays, so Brennan & I headed inside. The office area was empty, which was odd because it was 6pm and the parking lot was still full, but I didn't have time to contemplate that much because when I walked around the corner, a crowd of people yelled "Surprise!" All of Bri's coworkers, their ladies, and even Larry & Caitlyn were there with pizza, cake, and even some non-alcoholic beer for this preggo birthday girl. I was beyond touched that they all took time out of their schedules to celebrate with me. Again, we're blessed with FANTASTIC people in our lives. And I'm blessed with an amazing husband. I've never had any kind of surprise party thrown for me, so it was especially thoughtful. I <3 him.

So Larry & Caitlyn came a day early to surprise me, which was so sweet. Our weekend with them was full of the typical visitor stuff - beach, zoo, RedBerry, Kennedy Space Center, etc. I think they enjoyed themselves and it was nice to have them around. Especially since we won't get to see them when we're in MI this weekend because we'll be crazy busy. (Can you say mass chaos?)

I think that's enough random thoughts for now. I'll leave you with some pictures of a super cute kiddo feeding birds and petting a giraffe. This is why we love our zoo.

Nesting

Today I am 25 weeks and 3 days pregnant with my twins. The average twin pregnancy is 36 weeks long. Of course I could deliver earlier, heck, I could deliver tomorrow. But the best case scenario is that my body will hold on to these boys til they're at least 37 weeks.

So I have plenty of time before they're born to line up help for the end of the pregnancy and the time there after, and to get the house ready for their arrival. Yet I find myself in this crazy rush lately to get things accomplished. I think it's because I know that every day it becomes more and more of a challenge for me to accomplish even the most basic tasks -- cooking, cleaning, and keeping up with a toddler. My belly is the size of a woman's who is about 34 weeks pregnant -- you know, that time when you're starting to get uncomfortable, but you know the end is near? Yeah, my end isn't near. Nor do I want it to be really. I mean, of course I want the discomfort to end, but I want these boys to stay put for now.

Anyways, I digress. So, for the last two weeks we worked on cleaning out the guest room, painting it, and getting Brennan moved in. Now that he's settled into his new room (which he LOVES), I can concentrate more on the nursery ... and it needs plenty of concentration. I still need to decorate Brennan's room, but I feel like those are crafty things that I can do with a big belly. I cannot however assist in painting (it's a well ventilated area with low fume paint people, chill out), clean and arrange things how I'd like them, put clothes away (in a currently non-existent dresser), make beds, etc.... My time to do these things is limited. Very limited.

And while my hubby is VERY patient when it comes to my pregnant-lady neuroses, he also feels the need to "have fun while we can" and therefore chooses to fill the weekends with plans with friends instead of getting things accomplished. It's driving me bananas. Doesn't he understand that I need to nest, damnit, and I can't do it alone??! Humph. (This is me pouting.)

Behind the hormones, I know that it'll all get done ... right?

from rational to crazy and back again

I remember the discomforts of pregnancy the first time around. The 3 month long stomach flu/hangover, the emotional roller coaster, the weight gain and stretch marks, the punches and kicks to the cervix aka "lightening crotch"... I could go on for days, but I think you get the point. This time around, it's worse. Double the baby = double the hormones = even more dry heaving, more emotions, weight gain, stretch marks, blah blah blah. And to top if all off, this time there's a little 25 pound person to run around after while playing incubator to two more.

But I've been able to stay positive and chalk it all up to growing big, happy, healthy babies. I'll deal with it all if it means that my boys will grow big and strong and stay put til it's time to come out. Because I love these boys with all of my heart and soul and we haven't even yet been properly introduced. Throughout the contractions, the increasing numbers on the scale, and my ever-growing abdominal circumference, I slap on a happy face because it's all for THEM.

But yesterday I hit a bump. A rather large bump. I was having a rather "large" day. It was HOT outside, which doesn't help (hel-lo Florida summer). Brennan and I made our way to the doctor's office for my OB appointment.

Slap in the Face #1: The Scale. I usually weight myself at home, first thing in the morning, in nothing but my birthday suit. The numbers have been creeping, but I've managed to stay sane. And I know that I will weight more at the doctor's office - fully clothed, at the end of the day, on a different scale. But the number this time hit me ... and not in a good way. Inner dialogue time: "Kel, it's fine. You're pregnant. With twins. You've gained the appropriate amount of weight in your pregnancy so far, and you will continue to gain the appropriate amount, nothing more. Pull yourself together. It's for the boys. OK, I can do this."

On we go to the exam room. Doc comes in, we exchange pleasantries and talk about the pregnancy thus far. Then I heave myself (and Brennan) up onto the exam table. For those of you who don't know, it's standard practice to measure the abdomen during pregnancy. Basically, for a singelton pregnancy, the abdomen should measure the same number (in centimeters) as how many weeks along you are. So, if I had just one baby in my belly, since I'm 24 weeks, my abdomen should measure 24 centimeters.

Slap in the Face #2: The Belly Measure. So, I lay back, the doc pulls out the measuring tape and stretches it down my belly. Here's how it went:

Doc: Well, you're measuring 34 weeks.

(Silence. Blood rushing to my face.)

Me: W ... w... what's the rule for twins?

Doc: Well, there isn't one. We just expect you to be bigger than a singleton.

Me: Um, 10 weeks bigger?

Doc: No you fat ass! Quit gaining so much weight. Put down the doughnuts for the love of God!

Kidding of course. I love my doc. She sweetly reassured me that I'm doing everything right. I read the twin pregnancy book that she recommended and am following the weight gain curve nicely. She also pointed out that I've made up for the lack of weight gain in the first trimester, like she wanted me to, and that I'm headed for the third trimester, when it's just plain harder to put on weight because your stomach is smushed. I said OK, we talked about increasing the frequency of my appointments now that I'm further along, and I headed out the door.

So I'm fine. I feel huge, well, I am huge. But I'm supposed to be. Yeah. Right. I'm supposed to be. It's for the boys.

Fast forward to home. I'm getting dinner ready. My belly is bumping the counter, collecting water near the sink, and I spill flour all over my shirt. Inner dialogue time again: "You remember these days while pregnant with Brennan. It doesn't last long -- Oh, wait. I HAVE THREE MORE MONTHS OF THIS!!!!!!" Enter, lump in throat. Brian walks in the door. I say, "Guess how big my belly is measuring?" He says, "34 weeks".

Begin crying fit. Mascara stains all over hubby's shirt. Random babbling through the sobs "I ... don't ... wanna ... be ... HUGE! Do you realize how big I'm going to get??!?!?!" Kisses and hugs and sweet reassurance from Brian eventually calmed me down. He helped me return to my normal mantra: It's for the boys. Yes. I will be huge and uncomfortable and utterly miserable, as long as my boys stay put until they're big and old enough to come out and come home with me. I might complain to my mom, commiserate with my friends, and cry to my husband. But I'll get through it. And I'll be a better person, and a better mom, because of it.

I'm a survivor...

Brennan and I survived 4 whole days at home alone without Daddy. This normally wouldn't be all that difficult for me as I've lived on my own before getting married, lived on my own while Brian worked in Chicago for 6 months shortly after we got married, and lived on my own with Brennan for 3 months when Brian moved here to FL. However, contrary to what you (or I) might believe it's not so easy to be by yourself with a (crazy) toddler while 24 weeks pregnant with twins.

See, the greatest part of my days, other than naptime of course, is at the end of the day when my hubby walks through the door. Not because I've been burning with desire to see him or anything. I mean, he's pretty amazing and all, but it's mostly because I need a break. And he jumps head first into Daddy duties when he gets home. (Have I mentioned that I love him? Cuz I do.)

So to have no relief for 4 days was a bit intimidating. Brennan woke up with a random fever, sans other symptoms, from his nap on Saturday and spent the next few days just kinda relaxing and snuggling with me. I'd never wish sickness on my child, but I must admit it was a relief not to have him running around like a crazy person.

We were both pretty excited to pick Daddy up from the airport Tuesday evening. I hit 24 weeks that day and he so sweetly pointed out that the belly looked like it had grown while he'd been gone. I blame the horizontal stripes, but you can see for yourself....

Holy belly.

my husband = dead sexy

Allow me to set the scene.

We had a nice dinner during which my husband drank THREE GIANT GLASSES of milk, which he knows will upset his stomach. The little guys is sleeping. We've crawled into bed early. The twins are up to their usual nighttime shenanigans inside my belly. Before I can say the usual "Hey, you're missing movement over here" to the hubs, he groans and says:

"If you put your hand on my belly you can feel movement."

Ew. Should've stopped after one glass like I told him to.

23 Weeks!

Our camera has been, well let's just call it 'disabled', since December-ish. We just kinda muddled through because neither of us wanted to part with it and miss photo ops with the kiddo. But about a month ago the camera decided that it was done trying to function at less than max capacity. So off to Geek Squad, then to Texas it went to be fixed by Sony.

It's been a few weeks now and it's KILLING me not to have a functional camera. I'll be honest, my picture-taking abilities are sub-par at best. And honestly, I very frequently forget to even grab the camera, instead choosing to revel in the cuteness of my child with my own eyes instead of behind the lens. Which is fine, until you realize that he's growing and changing so much and that I have ABSOLUTELY NO PICTURES in the little folder titled "May 2011" on my computer. Argh. It's giving me heartburn (well, that's probably from the current occupants of my uterus pressing on my stomach, but we can pretend).

And then there are the people back in MI/OH that are bugging me for belly pictures since they can't rub it in person. I wasn't too concerned about missing a few weeks of photographic evidence that I'm getting larger by the second, until I looked at my 18.5 week photo and realized that the belly really has progressed and I really should document it. So out came the camera phone. And this is what we came up with:

The vain part of me likes this picture better than the following one because my hair looks better. But it's taken from an angle, not a straight side shot. It just doesn't do the belly justice. So here's one where you get a better idea of just how huge it's getting:

Frizzy hair, flubby arm. Ick. Oh well.

So there it is - the 23 week belly. Both boys are doing very well. Their EFWs on ultrasound this week were 1 lb 5 oz and 1 lb 4 oz, both above average for their gestation. What can I say? I grow big boys. And they must be pretty fun guys too because there is a nonstop party going on in my uterus. Fun times I tell ya, fun times.

Since moving to FL, I've been busy. Busy settling into a new home, being sick in the beginning months of pregnancy, juggling school with housework and being a mommy and entertaining houseguests and traveling back to MI for school and ....

you get the idea.

When we moved, I was lucky enough to have been welcomed by a wonderful group of women who happen to be married to the boys Brian works with (and a few women that actually work with him). Most of them are also transplants from around the country, and while some have been here for longer than others, it really, truly feels like one big family.

So while I had all of these ready-made friends waiting in the wings, I was the queen of anti-social land. We would occasionally go to dinner with people from work, but I never felt like I could have an adult conversation with anyone because I was feeling crappy and trying to make sure my crazy toddler wasn't throwing knives across the table.

Then school ended. And I started to feel better. And I'm not traveling to MI once a month. While I'm still busy with just being a SAHM and baking two babies at once, I have much more free time. But now, the other wife that is a SAHM delivered a preemie and has been consumed with that (for obvious reasons!) and the wife that is a WAHM is nearing the end of her pregnancy and just isn't feeling very social. So now that I'm feeling good and would like to be social, I find myself being lonely. Not bored, because I have plenty of work to do, but lonely :S

Loneliness in a new place isn't good. It makes you miss your old life, your friends, your family, your old sense of normalcy. While I LOVE our new environment and am VERY happy that we made the choices we did, I couldn't help but feel sad. I'm used to seeing my family once a month, and this is the first month I won't see them. In fact, I won't see them until July. And my "bff" had her second baby, who I haven't been able to meet yet, and I missed her after-baby shower that our work girls always throw for each other. Hearing about all of the things I'm missing in MI only added to the sadness.

But then the preggo WAHM threw together a last-minute girls night. Four of us met at her house one night, lounged in the pool for awhile, enjoyed dinner and just girl-time in general. I can't tell you how excited I was about this night. When getting ready to leave, Brian asked when I would be home. I told him I had no idea, and he continued to press the issue for at least a ballpark figure. When I asked what the third degree was all about, he said, "Well, you never leave! I'm not used to you being gone." It hit me then that I really don't leave the house by myself except to run to the store every once in awhile. Brennan goes EVERYWHERE with me. I'm not complaining in the least, but I guess I just never realized that I get very little alone time. And I don't think that's healthy. In order to be the best mom I can be, I need to take care of my own emotional well being too.

Well, let me tell you, this girls night did just that. These are wonderful women, from very different backgrounds, who are married to great men who are also from diverse backgrounds. But we all have one thing in common - we are one big family. We had great food, great conversation, and it was just a breath of fresh air to enjoy some adult company! It needs to happen again soon :)

Mommy's Day

Today was as close to perfect as you can get.

I woke up at 8:00 this morning to an empty bed. My confusion was two-fold: (A) Where is my husband? (B) Why haven't I heard my child get up? He hasn't slept that late in weeks!

After some investigation, I found the hubby sleeping on the couch with the baby monitor next to him. He looked peaceful, so I decided to make myself a bowl of cereal and go enjoy breakfast in bed. As I'm pouring the milk, he stumbled into the kitchen and asked "Why are you up?? I was going to get up with Brennan so you could sleep in! And we were going to make you cinnamon rolls!"

oops.

I'd been exhausted the previous night and had gone to bed somewhat early. After 9 hours of sleep, I was simply not tired anymore. I told him not to worry, that we could enjoy a peaceful morning together til Brennan woke up and that I'd be more than willing/able to eat cinnamon rolls even after my cereal. I am growing two babies afterall ;)

So after a nice breakfast and a few small but meaningful gifts, we headed to the beach. The boys went for a run while I sat in my new beach chair and relaxed. It was heaven. When they came back, I was peeing cooling off in the ocean. The minute Brian let Brennan out of the stroller, he spotted me in the "wa-wa" and came barreling toward me. It's a great feeling to be loved.

After more playing in the sand and surf, we packed up and headed home for lunch and a nap for all three of us. Can I just say that napping with the hubby is one of my favorite things in this world? It doesn't happen often enough.

Bri made a FANTASTIC dinner - steak, sweet corn, and sweet potatoes and apples - all on the grill. He even treated me to an O'Douls. I've been craving beer this pregnancy, which sucks for obvious reasons. But a tiny sip of whatever the hubby is drinking will just have to suffice for now :)

All in all, it was a great day. I'm so blessed to have a great husband, a wonderful baby, and two more on the way.

April Visit

As I've said before, we try to limit visitors to once per month. Now that I'm not travelling back to MI once a month anymore, it's not as big of a deal. It's just an attempt to protect our family time as just us three. So far, so good. Although I'm fully aware that the further we get into this pregnancy, the more that rule will fly out the window. I'm OK with it, because I know we're going to need help not only after the babies are here, but before too. But until then, we're enjoying our monthly visitors!

This month, my sister Teresa (aka Aunt Trix, aka TT) and her boyfriend John came to visit. They arrived on Good Friday and were able to spend a week with us. It was nice to have them for our first holiday in FL.

Easter weekend included all kinds of fun. We took Brennan to an Easter egg hunt at the local community center, but he had more fun taking the eggs out of his basket. Yeah, maybe we should have tried a dry run at home first ...

That afternoon, we dyed eggs and decorated cookies. Dying eggs is certainly, um, interesting with an 18 month old. Cookie decorating was much easier as we could just let him go at it.

The Easter morning egg hunt in the backyard was much more successful than the first one. He was an egg hunting machine. And he really loved finding all of the goodies in his Easter basket!

During their visit, we also took Trix & John to the park near our house to swim. While we love going to the ocean, sometimes it can be a long day for Brennan. He loves every minute of it, but the waves knock him over and the sun is scorchingly hot and it gets to be a bit much. This park is GIANT and has two small "lakes" to swim in. It's a quick and fun way to cool off and Brennan can splash and play a lot more in the calm water. He had a blast as always.

Having them visit was great, especially since they're very low maintenance visitors. They asked what they can do to help and didn't need to be entertained. Which was very helpful since I WAY overdid it on Easter weekend and spent time the next week laying low. It was great to spend time with them. Another successful visit from family!