Life with Twins

NOW:  Just a now.  Sorry.

I played hooky today!!!  YAY!!!  And I only told Tim (and now you guys….shhh!).  I ran a couple errands this morning.  Very simple – pick up dog perscription and get money from the bank.  Then I hung out at Panera for a few hours.  I had a Cinnamon Crunch bagel with Maple Walnut Cream cheese (only half the container, thank you very much), with a Cafe Mocha made with skim milk.  That was for breakfast.  Later, for a snack, a yummy orange scone and some coffee.  While there I enjoyed my Nook…..it came pre-loaded with Dracula and I had never read it and so I’ve been hooked, but haven’t had much time to read.

Then, I used the spa gift certificate Tim had given me LAST Christmas.  My massage was heavenly.  The worst thing about it was that it was too short (the shortest hour of my life).  But I feel like a new person.  I move and don’t hurt or feel stiff……I forgot that was possible!  I wish I could do this more often.  I’d be a lot less stressed….I don’t think I realized how much stress I actually had in my muscles until now.  I am so torn between not wanting to go home and have the stress return as soon as I’m back “on”…..and wanting to go home because I think I could be more patient than normal with the twins right now.

Now, I’m back at Panera and just wanted to type a few words.  I had a You Pick Two – with a steak and blue salad and a cup of Garden Vegetable with Pesto soup.  And more coffee.  🙂

I’m going back to the vampire world now!  Real vampires.  Not ones with souls who fall in love and drink animal blood because they have a conscience.  Have a wonderful weekend everyone!  This is now.

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No-Twin Thursday (yeah, I know, I know)

NOW: Guess what I did (ok, I haven’t done it yet, but I’m going to do it, really)!!!  I signed up (will be) for the Buffalo Half-Marathon!!!  Whoo-hoo!!!!

Ok, I haven’t signed up yet.  But I am serious about it.  I even had a couple of meetings regarding the topic.  First with Tim, then with my friend/running buddy, Kate. 

Kate and I talked about signing up for this months ago.  Then, we kind of casually talked about it a couple of weeks ago (as in; how’s your running going….not so good…..me neither…..).  But I had a training plan that a colleague had shared with me that didn’t start until February 12.  That seemed like a million miles away, so no big deal.  

Luckily, Kate is more on the ball than me.  I want to do it, I have plans to do it, I got her involved in the first place, but then sometimes I just don’t follow through.  Or I put things off until it’s too late.  Kate texted me Wednesday implying that we needed to get our shit together and figure out what the hell we’re going to do about this training plan that starts in two weeks.  Especially since neither of us has been running since our last 5K in the end of September.

I was lazy calm about it.  I said I’d talk to Tim about a good day for her and I to get together and have a little dinner and discussion.  I was thinking like next week…two weeks….

But then I said to myself; “self, get your ass in gear”.  So I did.  We met at Panera last night and planned out a calendar.  I’m a little less flexible than her as far as time because of the twins and Tim not wanting to stay home with the twins.  We decided running in the morning, 3 times a week would work for our shorter runs and then a weekend day (usually Sunday) for the longer ones.  And any day we can’t run together outside for some reason, we have to check in with each other that we got our running in alone that day.

I talked to Tim first.  He’s my workout buddy and I’m going to be abandoning him 3 times a week!  He basically said that was fine as long as I got him out of bed first so that he’ll get up and do the Wii Fit without me.  The other two days I’ll do the Wii Fit with him.  Until the sun starts coming up in the morning and then he’ll go running by himself those two days so that he can do some 5K runs this summer.

Kate and I are also going to run an 8K Shamrock Run in between.  It works out that it’s the same weekend as we are supposed to do a 5 mile run anyway and it will be good motivation.

Normally, we don’t sign up for races ahead of time.  But that’s mostly because the 5K races don’t have a big difference in price even if you wait until the last minute.  But this is a little different.  Not so much for the Shamrock Run, but the Half especially.  So, we’ll save some money (always nice, especially when she has a wedding to pay for in 6 months!) and again, more motivation.  If we’re already out the money we won’t use the rain or something silly as an excuse, right?

I feel so motivated after this little plan!  I ordered a healthier option while at Panera (garden vegetable soup as opposed to broccoli cheddar) and did not get that 420 calorie Caramel latte I wanted so much. 

Perhaps this is just the motivation I needed.  Hopefully it will stand up to Birthday Week dinners!!!  (6 days until my Birthday! Yay!)  This is now.

THEN: It was SO hard that I couldn’t drive after my C-section for 6 weeks.  I needed to get to the hospital!  Luckily, my parents took me every day that Tim was working.  He had decided he would use his time off for when the twins actually came home, rather than now.  I had to rely on my parents’ schedule but usually it was ok.  My mornings were spent at home alone sleeping, pumping, watching tv, pumping, doing some light chores, pumping, eating, and pumping.  Mostly pumping.  And waiting.  Waiting for the time when my mom and dad would come get me and take me to the babies.  It was stressful, but relaxing.  Does that make sense?

I’m not a worrier.  Whatever will be, will be.  And some things are out of my control so worrying isn’t going to solve the problem.  Was I worried about the twins?  Yes, of course.  But they were healthy.  It had been ME that was the problem, not them.  So was I worried, yes, because they were in the hospital and I had all the what if questions…..what if they didn’t gain enough weight, what if their bodies wouldn’t regulate their temperature, what if they didn’t learn how to eat, what if their oxygen levels dropped, what if a crazed nurse stole them from the hospital like a Lifetime movie?

These thoughts were in my mind, yes.  But they were always in the absolute back of my mind.  They didn’t stop me from enjoying and appreciating everything else I was given.  Especially my sleep and freedom.  I had two newborns and I was sleeping through the night and had loads of freetime.  I try to look on the bright side.  🙂  That was then.

Then (as in a week ago): Oh la la la, Ariel stays in her bed until we get in the room.  Oh happy day, what a lovely child.  Oh girls are so much easier than boys.  Oh I wouldn’t even mind if she did get out of bed because she would probably just quietly read books.  Unlike her brother, who wreaks havoc if you don’t come get him within a few seconds upon waking.  Including, but not limited to, smearing poop everywhere.  (Ok, that hasn’t happened in a while, but just typing that is tempting fate).  What a lovely daughter….a week ago…..when I should have been knocking wood every time I said these things to someone……

NOW: Fast-forward to present day.  This past weekend in fact.  The lovely daughter decides, oh wait, I CAN get out of bed without a grown-up in the room.  And I can run around my room wreaking havoc.  Why didn’t I think of this before?

Thursday night.  We watched a movie (The Little Mermaid!!!) after dinner, so twins are up to bed a little after 8.  Ariel gives a hard time about laying down and getting covered up, but relents because I threaten to leave the room.  Will settles right down, Daddy covers him, Mommy kisses him goodnight.  He tells us he loves us both.  Awww.  (The “I love you’s” sometimes still have to be prompted, so it’s THE BEST when he does it on his own).

The grown-ups go back downstairs to make some tea, have a snack, watch TV, and (for me) do some laundry, etc.

We hear, through the ceiling, the pitter-patter of little feet.  First, we’re amazed it’s not The Boy.  So, up I go.  Sure enough, she’s running around, but got scared when she heard my footsteps so tried quickly to return to bed.  I cover her again and tell her to stay in bed and go to sleep.  She mentions Princess Ariel and I ask if she liked the movie.  She informs me that “my no watch movie yet, my eat dinner first!  Watch movie later.”  This is somewhat concerning because she’s obviously got some time-traveling going on that I don’t know about.  But, I figure that’s good…..she must be SO tired that she’s getting confused.  Good.

I return to my melty ice cream and soggy cone.  Yum.  Then……little feet.  Tim makes the tea while I go up again.  Now, let me tell you, I probably wouldn’t normally go up and keep checking on either of them, but it’s just so weird that she’s actually out of bed. 

She’s naked. 

She informs me that her diaper was wet and she threw it in the garbage and she needs a new one.  Although that’s somewhat annoying, I guess that’s a good sign in some ways (related to potty training).  OK, so I get a new diaper on her, tell her not to take it off again, get her jammies back on, get her back in bed, get her covered up.  Ok, done.

Back downstairs.  Little feet.  I don’t want to run the risk of her being naked again and then peeing all over the place.  So I go up again. 

I tell her that I am getting mad.  She says, incredulously, “Mad??  NO MOMMY, you not mad, you a nice mommy.  You nice to Mil-Yum, you nice to me.”  I am laughing so hard.  But I try to explain to her that even though I’m nice, I can still be angry and she better not get out of bed again.

Back downstairs again.  Little feet.  Now I really am mad.  I go upstairs again, sternly tell her this, and she crawls back up into bed.  That’s the end of that.  For real this time.

Friday night: Little feet, little feet, little feet, naked girl, new diaper, little feet, little feet.  I go up for the third time and find that her pillow and a blanket are on the floor. 

She informs me that she’s sleeping on the floor.  I ask her why.  She tells me, “my no like my big girl bed, my want to sleep on floor….it’s safer.”  WHAT??!!  Um, ok, whatever. 

It’s not a big deal, but I still try to convince her to sleep in her bed. 

I ask; what about all your stuffed animals?

Ariel responds; I’ll just bring them down here, mommy.  (She does.  I help.)

M: what about your pretty star sheets?

A: my don’t like them, my don’t like black.

M: Those aren’t black, they’re purple

A: My don’t like them.  My sleeping on floor.

M: What about your music box?

A: My just bring it down here.  Take it off!

M: No, I can’t take it off, it has to stay up there, I guess you better go back to bed.

A: No mommy, I need to figure this out.  Hmmmm (while tapping her chin)

**Pause**

A: I know, I be right back.  (goes up on her bed, presses music box, climbs back down.) There!  My figured it out.  And if it turns off, my climb back up and turn it on and come back down and sleep on floor.

So, I’m out of ideas.  She tells me again she wants to sleep on the floor, her bed is not cozy.  Ok, fine.  I convince her to lay a blanket down to sleep on and cover her up.

She’s running around again so Tim goes back up around 10. He also unsuccessfully tries to get her to sleep in her bed, so covers her up on the floor again.

I go up to bed around 11 and check on her.  She’s sleeping.  Naked.  Scrunched up on her stomach.  So I somehow get her diaper and jammies back on without waking her too much.  The diaper may or may not be taped to her stomach but that’s  a problem for the morning.  There’s a pee spot on the blanket but she’s not laying on the spot so that’s a problem for the morning also.

Saturday – no nap.  Naked twice.  Little feet for 2 and a half hours.  Closet opening and closing.  Pairs of socks separated, but still in her drawer.  Books everywhere.  She has a whole new outfit on – inside-out shorts and a tank top.  She’s not to happy she can’t wear that downstairs.

Saturday night – Tim’s dad babysat.  She did sleep on the floor but there were no little feet noises and when I checked on her before I went to bed she was clothed.

Sunday – no nap.  Naked twice.  Little feet for 2 and a half hours.  Naked again – pee on the rug.  Clothes out of the closet.  Diaper pack out of the closet – I put it out of her reach.

Sunday night – she asks me to read her a book upstairs (we always read one downstairs together before coming up), so I tell her if she lays down (still insists on the floor) and I cover her up and THEN I will read the book.  She does, I do, she stays and there’s no little feet.

No nap Monday.  Falls asleep quickly at night again. 

I’m assuming this is just a phase.  But after saying that, I better knock wood.  Hard.  This is now.

THEN:  My parents took me home after my visit at the NICU.  I was drained.  Physically and emotionally.  I didn’t want to leave, but I was ready to be home.  My mom was going to drop my dad off at home and then come to my house for a little bit and help me get settled and take care of the dogs.  But then Tim called.  He was leaving work.  Again.  I was so thrilled and so in love with this man who would constantly just put his new family over his job.  I was so amazed at his devotion.

Plus, we needed groceries. 

So my mom stayed until Tim got home.  I was just going to stay home while he ran for groceries, but decided I didn’t feel like being alone.  Plus, I wanted to talk to the pharmacist about my prescriptions.  So, off we went.  After I pumped – which was so much better on my own couch with my own pump and no worries about people wandering in and out of my room.  Still didn’t get a lot, but that was ok for now.

At Wegmans, I had to get one of those motorized carts and just follow Tim around, but that was fine.  I had used them a couple times even while pregnant because I wasn’t supposed to be on my feet for that long (because when Tim goes grocery shopping it’s no less than an hours’ worth of walking).  I putted around behind him as he meandered up and down the aisles.  I was wearing the new shirt my mom had made for me – I’m a New Mom of Twins, with a picture she had drawn of a boy and girl in a baby buggy.  So I was getting lots of attention with my little motorized cart and my shirt advertising my accomplishment.  At least people didn’t have to wonder why I was using the motorized cart. 

After our trip I wanted to sleep.  But I wanted to go to the NICU.  This was probably the beginning of realizing how selfless I could be if I really wanted to.  I could have easily taken a nap, gone to the hospital later, and not been judged about that.  But I didn’t want to.  I needed to see the babies.  And Tim did too.  We packed up some snacks, my pump supplies, and a couple of books to read while we visited.  Soon, we were on our way back to our children.  That was then.

Winter Rut

NOW:  I’m really in a bad winter rut.  Not emotionally.  Physically.  And it’s discouraging because I feel like in the last 5 weeks or so, I’ve undone everything I worked for.  Between January 2011 through Mid-December, I was really really good about exercising.  Over the summer I even started running and ran a few 5K’s.  I felt great.  And along with the exercising I was watching what I ate….not obsessively, but just paying attention to my hunger cues and adding more veggies and healthier options.

I knew things would go downhill at the holidays.  With going out shopping came going out to dinner.  We still were sort of trying to find better options but we were still busy enough that we weren’t cooking at home as often and maybe not paying as much attention.  Now, I’m not talking about going to a fast-food place and getting fatty or fried foods!  Even if we ran to Applebee’s we didn’t get a big cheeseburger with fries along with an appetizer or something.  We didn’t pick off of the Weight Watchers menu either, but we tried to get grilled chicken or steak with veggies.   And we almost always cut our meal in half and take half home. 

Things really fell apart the week AFTER Christmas.  I was off and had no intention of getting up at 5:30 in the morning to exercise.  That was my first mistake I guess.  It was more important for me to get that sleep.  Which actually ended up working out ok because with Will being SO sick (broncialitis/pneumonia), he was waking me up VERY often in the night and I felt exhausted anyway.

Ok, so the New Year came and my first day back was January 3rd, but I still felt honestly just exhausted.  I didn’t catch up on sleep at all the week before and I was definitely feeling run down.  So, again, I chose sleep over exercise.  All week.  Again.  I felt refreshed.  And not guilty.  Not good.  Because justifying it can be a big mistake.  I know that from past experiences.

The week of the 9th was better.  We got up Monday, Tuesday, took a break Wednesday, got up Thursday.  Friday…..not so much…..Will had been waking me up like every half-hour during the night and then the dog woke me up once because he threw up.  When my alarm went off, I cried.  Tim said this was an extenuating circumstance and I should get the extra hour of sleep.  So I did.

Starting Sunday, Tim was sick.  Like puking sick.  So…..I was very busy.  I was on my own with the kids and then I also needed to take care of him. He didn’t need much, just an occasional glass of water or some crackers.  I did have to make dinner, which he had been planning on doing, and then he didn’t eat even though he requested Lipton soup.  The kids loved it though!  I wasn’t sure how that would work out…..they’ve had it before but only by taking little sips off of our spoons.  But I gave them more noodles/less broth and they did VERY well!  I was impressed.  So that was good.

Monday I had off, Tim was still sick, I didn’t even consider exercising.  Again, setting a bad precedent for the week.  Tuesday morning, my alarm was all set.  But my resolve wasn’t.  And this is where my problem lies.  I haven’t exercised all week.  Tim had an excuse, he’s still pretty weak.  He finally ate just yesterday.  Here’s my main problem – my motivation seems to be gone.  And it feels like it’s been gone for a while.  I love(d) exercising.  I love feeling great.  I love getting up in the morning and feeling like I accomplished something.  I love when my pants don’t feel tight (which they do right now).  So what is MY PROBLEM!!!!!   I’m so mad at myself, but apparently not mad enough to do something about it.  Even today, I said to myself, meh, it’s already Thursday, why bother getting up to exercise now.  WHAT!?  Ridiculous.  And I know it’s ridiculous.  But I’m still not doing anything about it.

I also have a terrible terrible habit of eating if I can get away with it.  For some reason, when I get home from work and I’m starting to make dinner, I almost always get very shaky.  Like low-blood-sugar or something.  What I should do, is have a nice, high-protein snack as soon as I get home and that will hold me off until dinner.  But I don’t.  I wait until I’m shaky, light-headed, hot/cold, and irritable.  Then I have 3 handfuls of cashews (probably 3 servings right there), a couple pieces of chocolate, and maybe even some tomatoes or something if I’m making salads.  So not only am I ingesting all of these calories after eating good all day, plus I didn’t exercise, plus it’s only like an hour before dinner. 

I just don’t understand how I know it’s bad and wrong  and I feel physically awful especially in the area of pants being tight.  And yet I don’t feel guilty enough to fix it.  Maybe writing down these confessions will help.  Maybe you guys should all comment (yay, please comment!) about how I need to get my lazy self back to exercising and not gorging on cashews every evening before Tim gets home.

Not only that, but I know part of my decrease in motivation comes from the fact that I worked so hard for 11 months and now it’s all undone so what’s even the point?  Why work hard again for another 11 months when I can just buy bigger pants?  Laziness is so much easier. 

Every once in a while, I do get that fleeting thought in the back of my mind…..maybe if I tried even harder it wouldn’t take 11 months?  Maybe.  This is now.

THEN: Did I mention the breast-feeding?  No?  I’ve got to work it in someplace.  So, I had planned on breastfeeding the twins.  Can’t do that when they’re on feeding tubes in the NICU.  No, not so much.  But that’s ok.  I can just pump and they can put whatever I get into their feeding tubes.  Although getting less than an ounce after almost a half-hour of pumping is rather discouraging.  Especially when there’s two mouths to feed.  Luckily for me, I was able to stay in the hospital those few extra days.  The lactation nurses came to see me whenever I needed.  I just had to get used to the idea of 2-3 women playing with my boobs every time I needed a little assistance.  I felt it was worth it.  And I suppose an ounce is really not that bad when your kids are only eating a couple ounces at a time anyway.  But it was always on my mind that obviously, eventually, soon, they would need to eat more.  In the meantime they were being supplemented with formula.  I was told multiple times not to feel guilty and that every little teensy tiny bit helped.  And that pumping was bound to get you less milk anyway.  And that having a C-section was bound to get you less.  And that having a delivery at 31 weeks was bound to get you less because your body wasn’t supposed to be ready to give milk for another 7-9 weeks.  And all of these things made sense logically so it’s good that I’m normally a very logical person.

 But I still felt guilty.  And I still felt like since I was just sitting in my hospital room anyway maybe I should just leave the pump attached all day long or something.

 They also said don’t worry about getting up in the night; I needed my rest.  Screw that, my babies needed to eat!  They weren’t sleeping through the night without having to eat, so I couldn’t sleep through the night without making them some food.  They were eating every two hours.  I was pumping every two hours.  Sometimes by the time I got it all set up, pumped for a half-hour or so, and then cleaned up the machine so it would be ready for next time I felt that it probably would be easier just to leave everything attached all day.  Like a cow.  It was not easy.  Emotionally or physically.  I felt drained.  I felt like a failure.  I knew that eventually I would make more but it was hard to convince myself of that when all I had were mere drops to feed my children.  Like really, drops, like when they would pour it from the tube I pumped it into to and try to get it into the feeding tube, there probably was nothing left because it all just got stuck on the side of the container.  I was told to take a picture of them and look at it while I was pumping to stir up some emotion.  That actually did help a lot, especially when I was first home.  They told me to massage my breasts a little before pumping.  That helped too.  A little.  My determination got me through I think.  It is not easy to breastfeed, pump, whatever – I tell everyone that.  But in my opinion, it’s worth it for the vitamins and antibodies that I believe I was providing to my babies.  And since this experience, I have had A LOT of new-mom friends come to me for advice.  I’m no lactation consultant (those people crazy (in a good way)), but I do think that if you can do it, (because not everyone can), you should do it.  Or at least try for a little while because every little teensy tiny bit helps.  That was then.

NOW:  We are in the midst of planning our trip.  This is probably the most-planned trip we’ve done….although not by much to be honest!

We are DVC members so we are staying in a suite, using our “points”.  For more information on how DVC works, leave me a comment or send me an email!  It’s the most awesome thing we’ve ever done…..and it’s not just for traveling to Disney places either.

Anyway.  Our “home resort” is Animal Kingdom Lodge so we can book a vacation there up to 11 months in advance.  So we called back in August and booked.  But we didn’t really want to stay there.  We love it there, don’t get me wrong, and we have stayed there before and it’s beautiful and wonderful!

But for the purposes of this trip, we really wanted to stay at the “new” Bay Lake Towers.  It’s a new DVC resort that’s connected by a walking bridge to the Contemporary Resort.  So, it’s EXTREMELY close to Magic Kingdom.  We usually spend the majority of our trip in MK anyway and with the twins we figured that would definitely be the case this time more than ever.  Plus, the Contemporary is on the Monorail so it’s convenient to get to some other resorts where we wanted to go for dinner (Polynesian and Grand Floridian) as well as easy to get to EPCOT.

We can’t book at different DVC resorts until 7 months in advance.  But we didn’t want to end up with NOTHING, so we booked at AK Lodge just to be safe because we had the 11 month advantage there.

In December, I was able to call and transfer our reservation to Bay Lake~YAY!  It was kind of a pain because you can only move 7 days at a time, and then our other 3 days I had to call the next day and the next day and the next day.  During work.  Oh well.  It was nerve-wracking but I got the job done.

Then, you can make Dining Reservations 180 days in advance.  You used to have to call day after day after day, but now they let you make your first 10 days of reservations all at once starting 180 days from the day you check in.  So that was good news.  This is an advantage of staying at a Disney Resort.  Also, they have a new online reservation process that starts at 6 am.

So I had called and they calculated 180 days for me and I could go online or call January 11th.  Tim and I skipped exercising and set the alarm so that we could go online starting right at 6 AM.  Well.  The first reservation we got just fine.  The rest?  Nope.  Wouldn’t recognize our Resort Reservation number.  I had to rush to get ready for work so that I could call the reservation phone number at 7.  I wanted to be all ready in case I got stuck on the phone for a while.

Good thing.  I was mostly ready by 7, and called.  I was on hold for a short amount of time, but then the time it took to make all of our reservations, give her all my information, and get all of the confirmation numbers took almost a half-hour!  By then, the twins were up and calling for me, my dad was showing up, my hair still wasn’t done, my coffee wasn’t poured.  These kinds of little things stress me out a little.  And I was already worked up because I was stressed I wouldn’t be able to get a reservation at the places we wanted.  I don’t know why; we’ve NEVER had an issue.

Plus, I still had to call Victoria and Alberts.  But there’s is a separate line and it didn’t open until 9 AM.  And I still had to stress that I wouldn’t get THAT reservation!

You all may be thinking we are crazy.  And we are.  But, it’s who we are and it helps us keep our sanity.  In some ways.  Once, we planned a trip a mere 2 months ahead of time.  Boy, that was stressful to the millionth degree!

I get all the reservations, complete with confirmation numbers and I double-check them all online.  My dad helps me get the twins ready so that I can do my hair.  Plus, I had to go to the bathroom……why is it that nature calls at the MOST inconvenient times?

At 9 I called V&A…..the most faniciest restaurant in WDW.  At first I couldn’t get through so I left a message, but kept calling and calling anyway.  See, we really wanted to sit at the Chef’s Table.  And there’s only one seating for the table a night.  And we really wanted it on that certain night because all the other dining reservations were already in place and I didn’t really want to have to change everything around again.  But, I got through, and got what we wanted.  YAY!!!

Plane tickets are bought, room (2-bedroom suite for us, kids, and my dad) is reserved, dining reservations are made.  Now, the packing lists will begin!  You think I’m kidding?

Wanna know where we’re eating?

Chef Mickeys – Contemporary resort – buffet dinner with Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Goofy, and Pluto!

Tuttoo Italia – Italy pavillion in EPCOT

California Grill – very top floor of Contemporary resort

Mama Melrose – Hollywood Studios – Italian food

The Wave – Contemporary resort

Crystal Palace   – in Magic Kingdom – lunch buffet with Winnie the Pooh, Tigger, Eeyore and Piglet!

Victoria and Alberts – fancy schmancy!

Ohana – in the Polynesian resort – they serve food off of GIANT skewers

Chefs de France – France pavillion in EPCOT – best escargot I’ve ever had!

 Chef mickeys breakfast – Again.  This time for breakfast

Raglan Road – Irish-style pub in Downtown Disney

Le Cellier – Canada pavillion in EPCOT.  Home of yummy Beer-Cheese Soup

Tony’s Town Square – Magic Kingdom – Italian

OK…….so maybe it’s less of the Type A personality…..and more just super-duper excited!!!!!  Either way……it’s planned!  All we do now is wait.  And save money.  And pack (No, not yet.)

Speaking of beer-cheese soup – check out my husband’s venture into the Blog World!  The first recipe he’s going to blog about is the very one from the Canadian Pavillion in EPCOT – yummy beer-cheese soup!  This is now.

THEN: I prepared myself to go home on Thursday morning.  The first thing I wanted to do was take a shower.  I hadn’t had one since the previous Thursday.  I had asked…..but before the delivery none of the nurses were “sure” if I was allowed to take a shower or not.  After the delivery it wasn’t an option at first because of the surgery.  I had gotten permission to take one Thursday before I left.  First I had to walk all around the floor of the hospital trying to find the darn place.  I either hadn’t gotten good directions or I wasn’t really listening.  I finally got to the room, set my things down and turned the water on.  As difficult as it was to manuver myself; it was probably the best shower I’d ever had in my life.  I felt a million times better and cleaner and happier and even a little less sore.  By the time I was done and back in my room though, I was exhausted!  Luckily I had about an hour before my discharge time when my parents would come get me.

They forgot to order me breakfast.  I thought it would be in my room when I got back, but no such luck.  I called a nurse and she wasn’t sure what happened but arranged to get some food up to me as soon as possible.  I was starving!  It wasn’t exactly what I would have wanted, but it was fine.  The hospital food wasn’t as bad as sitcoms would have had me believe.  I watched some TV and I was ready to go.  I was nervous though and anxious.  First thing I wanted to do when my parents showed up was go down to the NICU.  I would have gone earlier but I really really needed that shower and my late breakfast.

I forced myself to be patient and finally it was 11:00.  My dad came up to get me and my mom was waiting down in the NICU already.  I didn’t have to take a wheelchair out because I wasn’t leaving the hospital yet.

I walked (shuffled) down to the NICU.  I went to see my beautiful babies.  I suddenly really wanted my parents gone, but of course I didn’t want to upset or offend them by asking them to leave.  I went to Will first.  He reflexively grabbed my finger with his hand as all babies will do.  He sighed in his sleep and listened to me talking to him about what had happened that morning.  He still had his CPAP machine on and because of the mask, he couldn’t open his eyes very well.  I didn’t even know what color they were.  I listened to the steady beep of the machines and listened to the nurse update me on his status.

I walked over to Ariel after tearing myself away from my son.

“Do you want to hold her?”  Shock.  “yes” I breathed, so quietly because I wasn’t sure I had heard the nurse correctly.  But I had.  She carefully set me up in a comfy rocking chair right next to Ariel’s heated bed.  First, she had to clip Ariel’s feeding tube to my shirt because it was time for her to “eat”.  She maneuvered the cords and wires so that they didn’t get pulled out while she was in my arms.  Then, she handed me my daughter.  I couldn’t breathe.  I was afraid to breathe.  She was finally feeling like mine.  I could actually hold her.  She had to be VERY VERY VERY wrapped up in blankets because she was no longer on her heated pad, which was helping her regulate her temperature.  But I could see her hand.  Her hand couldn’t be covered because of the IV needle in it.  So I stroked her hand.  And her head, which had to have a hat on it.  Again, to help keep her warm.

It was surreal.  The nurse had to help put her back right after she was done “eating” because the very act of digestion was making her very tired which meant her body was maintaining it’s own temperature even less.  She needed to get back to her heat.  And sleep.

The best thing for them was sleep.  Their fragile little bodies used up too much energy doing anything else.  The nurse told me not to be surprised tomorrow if I came in and was told Ariel had lost a little weight…..just from me holding her.  When they slept, they grew.  So sleep was the best thing for them.  And frequent family visits of course.  Talking to them.  Letting them know they were loved.

I felt so guilty after holding Ariel.  Because I couldn’t hold Will.  It’s not like it was my fault or my choice.  I guess I just felt bad for him.  And a little for myself too.  But I was also on cloud 9 after finally getting to hold Ariel.  Like she was real.  Like she was really mine.  Like she was a real baby.  It’s a little dramatic, but true.  And it made me feel a hell of a lot better about going home later that morning.  That was then.

William

Ariel

Just a “then”

Because my last post was just a “now”.

THEN:  This is a love story about the bathroom.  And, I’m convinced there’s no such thing as TMI on a blog……

After having a C-section, you’re in lot of pain.  And they give you a lot of painkillers.  With strict instructions to let the nurses know and remind them when you need more, before the REAL pain gets you.  It’s easier to prevent pain than make it go away.

And their best piece of advice (seriously) is to get up and start moving/walking as soon as you can. 

And the next piece of advice is be really scared about how much pain you will feel when you go to the bathroom.  Especially the first bowel movement.  Which may or may not occur before you leave the hospital.

Well.  Even peeing was a process for the first two days (after the cathedar was removed).  It was a project to get myself  TO the bathroom…..which was literally two feet from my bed.  It was a project to pull up my hospital gown and pull down my “fake” underwear (which I was wearing because there was so much bleeding).  It was painful to “go”.  And it was impossible to wipe.  Or change my pad because I had bled through it.

So, guess who got to help?  My husband.  Thank goodness I’m not really a shy person to begin with because I would have been mortified with this process.   It was somewhat embarrassing to ask your husband to wipe you because you literally could not bend down.  Especially with all the blood.  (did the mention the bleeding that occurs?)

Never.  In a million years.  Will I EVER be able to thank him/repay him enough.  Maybe someday when he’s like senile and 120 years old and I’m wiping his ass.  Maybe then. 

I think that was one of the times that I was most in love with him.  Sounds ridiculous, but I cannot imagine asking someone else or letting someone else help me the way he did.  Did he really want to do it?  I’m sure not.  But he did.  Because he loves me.  And I was never more sure of his love than those two days.

Especially when the bowel movement occured before I left the hospital.

Still……..better than labor.  Not that I would know, but I’ve always been more terrified of labor.  Or labor going wrong and then ending up with a C-Section anyway.  So, I’ll take the blood, pain, and Tim having to help me in the bathroom like a child.  🙂

That was then.

Lots of Little Things…..

NOW:

Thoughts on the New Year: Am I making New Year’s Resolutions?  No.  Am I using the New Year as a fresh start on some goals I have already set?  Yes.  Namely; more blogging, blogging with Tim (more on that later!), more weight-loss, more running (Buffalo half-marathon, here I come!).  Kinda mostly stuff for myself I’m realizing as I re-read this.  Oh well, it’s not like I can do more mommying.

Thoughts on poop: Anyone know how to get my son from digging in his diaper and smearing it on every available surface in his room after he wakes up from nap?  We don’t even realize he’s awake until it’s too late – he’s stealthy quiet.  Just so you know – backward pajamas, onsies, backward onesies, layering of shorts+onesie+pajamas —–none of these ideas work.  My father is seriously considering duct tape (not on his skin of course – just taping his shirt to his pants and then cutting him apart every time). 

Thoughts on blogging with Tim: I want him to cook more!  And more variety!  So after finding and reading The Mike/Mitch Project (look on my blogroll), I’ve inspired him to do something similar….although not quite so involved.  He chose a cookbook and plans on making 2-3 recipes from it per week and then blogging about it.  As soon as we have it set up, I’ll post a link; hopefully you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy eating it!

Thoughts on my Christmas break: Everyone asks “how was your Christmas?  Did the twins have so much fun?”  Complicated answer. Christmas was….interesting.  Will was sick, starting Thursday night with a fever, got better Friday, was just laying around on Saturday but perked up a little bit at great-grandmas.  Then, for part of the night just laid on me until I convinced Tim we should leave a little early.  Sunday morning he woke up at 6, I laid in bed with him for another 1 or so, and could tell his breathing was “off”, he was pretty whiny upon waking, but again better once we started opening gifts, was ok opening gifts at Mema’s, so at this point, although I was considering taking him to Immediate Care, we decided he was ok enough to continue.  By the time my sister could come to mom’s after work it was 8:30.  He was fine again opening gifts for about a half-hour, then passed out on the floor, burning up again.  Monday morning at the doctor’s he was tested for his blood oxygen level, which was borderline-sending-him-to-the-hospital-level.  They gave him two nebulizer treatments, a perscription for antibiotics and steroids and told me that if he wasn’t breathing better after his fever went down we’d have to go to the ER.  (insert me feeling like worst mom ever because I didn’t bring him in until now).  He was also sent home with his own personal nebulizer and we were supposed to continue treatment.  As of Tuesday morning he was breathing much better when we returned to the doctor for follow-up.  I still had to do a few treatments and obviously the perscriptions for the next 5 days.  So, what did he have?  Well, who knows!  Maybe the start of asthma.  Maybe broncilitis.  Maybe pneumonia.  Maybe a combo of the three.  Oh, plus an ear infection.  So he was SO SUPER FUN (sarcasm) for the next 5 days.  Worst.  “Vacation”.  Ever.  did I mention that Thursday (the 22nd) night through Friday (the 30th), he was waking me up literally every 15-20 minutes ALL NIGHT LONG?  Forgot that part.  Ariel got a bad cold as of Friday the 30th, (luckily it wasn’t broncilitis/pneumonia) and by the time they are both feeling better, I go back to work.  🙂

I’m regaining my sanity slowly, thanks for asking.  Catching up on sleep is another story.

This is now.

I’ll add a “THEN” next time.  But it’s taken me 4 days to write this post as it is so I’d just like to publish it and move on!