Life with Twins

Posts tagged ‘random thoughts’

Cleaning, Playing, Blogging

What do these three things have in common?

Hopefully I will be doing them all this week since I have off for Mid-Winter break!

There’s a couple of lunch and dinner dates in the mix too.  My main goal is to clean out my basement which I already started today by getting the drywall pieces out of there and out for the garbage.  That’ll be while the kids are napping (fingers crossed).

While they’re awake there will be lots of playing!  Including having them play sweep and mop along with me while I really sweep and mop.  🙂  Maybe dusting too.

I’m also hoping to post a couple of times to kind of catch up on stuff and get back into the swing of things.

I’m back to running too, so I’ll update about that as well.  🙂

So…..see you soon!!!

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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!

I have a Confession…..

NOW: I love Christmas.  There, I said it.

Prior to Thanksgiving I was pretending to be one of those people that dislikes the Christmas decorations being up in the stores already.

So, when Thanksgiving was over, I could finally give in to my true nature.  Phew, what a relief.

Then, I started reading/hearing all kinds of people complaining about Christmas in general…..especially in regards to Santa Claus.  So, I’ve been debating about this post for a while, but I suppose it’s my right to give the other side of the debate.  I don’t think anyone is “wrong” in their beliefs, just like to give my opinion too!

I love Santa.  I believe in Santa.  I truly do, at 30 years old.  Does Santa magically drop presents down the chimney for Tim and I?  No, not technically.  But I believe in him as the spirit of Christmas.  The idea that my twins will wake up on Sunday morning and be in awe of the fact that not only are there presents under the tree……but the milk, cookies, and carrots are mysteriously gone.

I know it’s a lie.  But I suppose I lie to my kids all the time.  Not big lies.  But……when there’s blackberries going bad in the fridge and there’s new bananas on the counter and they ask for bananas and I tell them they’re not ready to eat yet so they’ll just have to make do with blackberries.  Could they eat the bananas, yes.  But I want them to eat the blackberries first.  But they won’t go along with that line of thinking.  So, I tell them the bananas aren’t ready yet and they suddenly become perfectly happy with blackberries.  Just an example.  But I digress.

I try to explain as much to my kids as possible.  Even if anyone else would think they’re too young to understand.  And I tell the truth; I don’t blow them off with a simple answer.  It gives me credibility for when I do stretch the truth.  Plus, I’m a firm believer in asking questions in order to learn.  Even when I have a group of 22 children in front of me all day….each with their own set of questions.  That’s my job; to answer them.

Back to Santa.  Early in November, Will and Ariel saw a commercial featuring the man in the red suit and inquired about it.  I, being the over-explainer, immediately went into a detailed description of Santa, with his sleigh, reindeer, and sack of toys coming down chimneys on Christmas Eve.  I was excited.  Even back in November.  As a result, we they have been talking about Santa for almost two months now.  Not incessently.  But occasionally.  And more so now that the big night is almost here.

<It’s hard to put joy into words.  I think it’s much easier to express negative emotions, so this post might get rambly.  I apologize in advance.>

Santa is magic.  End of story.  Obviously I’m excited because this is the first year where the twins really get what’s going on for Christmas.  If nothing else, they know what presents are for and they are looking forward to recieving some, I’m sure.  But they are also excited about the tree, the ornaments, the decorating, the driving around looking at Christmas lights, the snow (what snow?), the shopping (yay, my kids like to shop!) the making cookies, the holiday movies.  I could go on and on.  

They are just full to the brim of excitement and positive emotion.  Same way my 2nd graders at school feel.  And I like to think that it’s coming partially from me.  They are excited because I am excited.  And I allow myself and them to give in to the excitement.  I don’t pretend Christmas isn’t coming, I embrace it.  And every year I get the same question from my 7-year-olds at school…..is there a Santa Claus?  They are at the brink of not believing.  Others have told them it isn’t true.  But they trust their teacher.  Maybe more than they trust their parents.  Because their parents might tell them the truth if they ask.  Plus, when they’re being egged on by 20 other kids, this seems like the perfect time to inquire.  School is for learning, right? 

And I don’t lie.  I tell them yes.  There is a Santa and I believe in him.  Let me make this clear; I am not lying.  And that’s part of the magic.  They know I’m not lying.  And so do my twins.

When I was little Santa filled my living room with presents.  And my sister and I always made sure to say “Thank you Santa, wherever you are!” while we looked up at the ceiling (because North is up), after we were done opening our gifts.  We were grateful.  Were we grateful to the wrong person?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  Because even though it was technically my parents’ money, and technically my parents (mom) who went out and did the shopping, and technically my parents (mom) who stayed up late into the night wrapping……it was Santa who brought those gifts.  And my parents heard the thank you and took it as their own.

I don’t even remember finding out that mom and dad were buying the gifts all along.  I guess it wasn’t that big of a deal.  I vaguely remember mom telling me not to tell Melissa, 5 years younger than me, and still going strong in her Santa-belief.  I think I kind of felt like I was just in on a secret, not a lie.  How fun it was to keep this secret going year after year…..until eventually most of  the presents were just labeled “from mom and dad”.  But never all.  There were always a couple from Santa.  Even though we “didn’t believe” anymore.  And the pile?  Didn’t get any smaller.  Don’t get me wrong.  My parents were not rich.  My dad worked two jobs so that my mom could stay home with us, and then later when my mom developed back problems and “couldn’t” work (that’s another post for another day).  They were probably living paycheck to paycheck.  But I never would have known it come Christmas morning.  Was I spoiled, yes.  But was I taught how to be rich in Christmas Spirit and thankfulness, yes.

I guess I’m lucky too because there are a lot of factors that don’t make me see “playing Santa” as a chore.  I love shopping, and shopping for the perfect gifts that I know will make my kids’ eyes light up is so rewarding.  It’s not work.  And I loved wrapping this year.  I picked out two different sets of paper and made sure Will and Ariel each had the same amount and wrapped and wrapped.  And the “leftover” gifts that didn’t have a “match”?  They are from mommy and daddy.  And in a third type of wrapping paper.  It was like a puzzle!  Making sure that they each had the same amount of gifts wrapped up.  (That reminds me, I have to figure out somethings to unwrap and rewrap so they each have a gift for each other). 

I guess it just boils down to this; I have fond memories of Christmas and of Santa.  I want my children to have fond memories of Christmas and Santa.  I want them to share in the Christmas Spirit and be merry and cheerful.  Everything Tim and I do with them is an experience that will shape their whole world as they grow up and I guess I just want them to have this wonderful, joyful Christmas/Santa experience.  Even if it is a lot of work.  And technically a lie.

I’m lucky too, in that I have the means to be able to do all of this work to build up the lie.  It’s worth it to me.  Because I love Christmas.   And because I believe in Santa Claus.

Happy Holidays Everyone!  Enjoy your time with yourself, your friends, your family, your joy. 

And your presents…..I know I’m looking forward to opening up my one-piece footie Cookie Monster pajamas from Tim!  (They just better be waiting under the tree and not being saved for my upcoming Birthday!)  This is now.

THEN: (A short one): The twins were born on a Sunday.  I was allowed to stay at the hospital until Thursday morning.  You might think that’s strange….whoever wants to stay in the hospital, right?  But I was glad because that was where my babies were. 

On Wednesday night, before Tim left to go home, I was sobbing.  I thought my heart would break.  He even climbed into the tiny hospital bed and held me.  I had been holding in all of my negative emotions for almost a week….even before they were born.  But now, on the eve of my homecoming, I broke down.

I didn’t want to go home the next morning.  I couldn’t leave them.  It was “bad enough” that they were being taken care of by “other people” but now I got to go home and they didn’t.  It wasn’t fair.  All of my other fears came out….basically…..what if they never came home?  I cried and cried and cried.  And he held me.  And he cried a little too.

A nurse came in.  I stopped right away.  I couldn’t be weak in front of her, she’d think something was wrong.  I told her I was just afraid to leave the twins.  But, she was trained to deal with crying, new moms.  She was afraid it was something worse; I could see it in her eyes.  She left and I knew that she would be sending people to check on me up until I left the next morning.  And maybe even watch me when I came back to visit the twins.  It might be post-partum depression.

I got angry.  Did I not have the right to get a little sad?  After all we had been through?  I was keeping it together and upbeat for a long time!  Didn’t I have the right to cry a little when I didn’t know what I was facing and how long I would have to face it and didn’t know what was going to become of my babies, but just knowing I wasn’t able to be in the same building with them 24/7 anymore?  I just wanted to cry a little.  I just wanted to be held by my husband who was the only one who even came close to understanding.  Was that so wrong?  That was then.

Don’t Blink

NOW: So, Summer happened.  Did anyone see it go by?  I must have missed it.  Although I have to say it was probably one of the best summers of my life.  And it’s my only real excuse for not blogging as much as I originally planned. 

I want to take a moment to be sentimental.  I’m not really a sentimental person in real life.  It’s not that I hide my emotions, I’m just more logical than emotional.

But when I think about this summer with my children, I get an ache in my chest.  Especially right now, because at this moment they’re not even right in front of me. 

I guess I should be grateful, and I am, that at least I’m a teacher and I get to spend the summer with my twins.  Most moms, who work a full year, obviously don’t geta  whole two months off with theirs.  I am lucky, and I am grateful, but all I can think about is that it was too short. 

Now that I only am with them a few hours a day before they go to bed….and that involves making dinner and eating dinner…..I miss them with every fiber of my being.  I wish I could wake up, throw on all our bathing suits and spend the  morning in the backyard again.  I cannot honestly remember the last time we played outside.  Ever since school started (a mere 2 weeks ago), our weekends have been booked and we can’t even enjoy the fall weather that’s hitting.

I feel like every day I come home from work and I missed out on something.  They are living their lives without me most of the day and I’m missing it! 

I’m sure this is the lament of every working mom.  I’m not trying to throw myself a pity-party, I’m just re-realizing how much I love and miss those little people at home and sharing that with you.  I never realized I could love any two people so much.

Another quick note about school starting; I have been wearing my hair down again, not in a ponytail.  So, guess who stopped asking for ponytails/pigtails in her hair every morning?  Ariel.  Took me until today to realize that’s probably why she hasn’t been asking.  🙂  She wants to be like mommy.  What an honor. 

I am going to do a more detailed August recap soon.  It’s just been hard to find the time and motivation to get on the darn computer and blog.  Sorry.  Again.  This is now.

THEN: I was in the hospital again Saturday night, by myself.  Tim was going to come back Sunday morning because he decided he couldn’t go to work while I was in such a state of the unknown. 

On Saturday afternoon they asked me what I had done to change my diet because of my gestational diabetes.  What gestational diabetes?  I was never told I had failed my second blood test as well as my first.  I had not changed my diet at all.  I would have done anything to keep myself and my babies healthy during the pregnancy.  I would have eaten whatever they told me to eat and stayed away from anything I had to avoid.  But I never knew I had to.  After calling and calling about my results, and being reassured that if there was a problem I would be informed.  Well, there was a problem.  And because I didn’t fix that problem, it became a bigger problem.

On Sunday morning a high-risk doctor came to talk to us, but Tim wasn’t there yet.  I had severe pre-ecclampsia.  I was basically a ticking time bomb and I never knew it.    That was then.

Where Are You?

NOW:  Oh, I’m just having fun at the ER.  Fun fun.  Last Saturday we had a family party.  Tim was feeling a little unwell before we left, but decided to go anyway.  He was feeling OK for a while, but then it was time for dinner.  Pizza.  His favorite.  He ate one bite and decided he couldn’t eat anymore.  Hm.  Strange.  Very strange.  After the twins were finished eating, Aunt Sarah entertained them so I could eat.  Tim laid on his Aunt and Uncle’s couch.  He fell asleep.  I went to check on him several times.  He had short conversations with me, but insisted he didn’t want to leave and appear rude.  During present-opening, I came in again.  He was sad that I hadn’t checked on him.  Wait a minute…..I did.  He didn’t even realize/remember.  We decided to leave after the presents were open.  I had to drive him home. 

After putting the twins to bed, I took his temperature.  102.5.  Obviously something going on there, and he took some Nyquil before bed and it helped him sleep and he didn’t feel too bad.

Upon waking Sunday morning, he dragged himself downstairs and proceeded to remain on the couch all day.  Not really doing anything.  His stomach was still slightly upset, so he didn’t want to eat.  I tried to encourage him to drink water, etc, but he was afraid his stomach would be upset again so he didn’t drink much either.  He kept complaining he was hot/cold and finally asked for the air conditioning to be put on so that at least the temp in the house was more regulated.  He had the Star Wars movies in the DVD player, but he wasn’t really watching it.  He wasn’t reading.  He wasn’t on the computer.  Just laying around. 

I suppose I should have been more concerned at this point.  He never naps.  But he was obviously not feeling well so I just let him be.  To be honest, it was easier.  He is pretty much a baby when he’s sick.  So, it’s kinda like the Boy Who Cried Wolf.  I was already dealing with two babies, I didn’t really need a third.  If he just slept that meant I didn’t have to wait on him.  Selfish, I know, but in my defense, I figured he just needed rest to feel better.

Well, by the time we took his temperature before bed, around 9:00, it was 105.6.  He decided to take a bath and I told him he better not make it too warm.  I called the doctor, got the answering service, and waited to get a call back.  She was concerned.  That’s a high temperature!  He was to take Tylenol and re-test his temp in 45 minutes.  If it wasn’t below 101 by then, he was to go to the ER.  If it was, he could wait and go to the doctor tomorrow.  The fact that he even “let” me call the doctor was pretty tell-tale.  He never wants to call the doctor. 

Well, it was still 103.5.  I called my mom to sit at the house because the kids were obviously in bed.  We took off to the hospital.  After waiting in the waiting room for over 2 hours, he finally got called back to Triage.  Where they took his temperature and it was only 99.1.  We waited another hour.  A nurse came in, took his temp again and basically told us we could wait…..at least another hour…..back in the waiting room…..but because his temp was almost normal there wasn’t much they could do.  Really?  After waiting for more than 3 hours? 

We decided not to wait.  We decided it was better to get him home to rest, as it was already after 2 in the morning.  It wasn’t until we were at the hospital that I realized how bad he really was.  After his temperature started dropping, he was able to speak in complete sentences again.  I just thought because he was so tired and kept nodding off earlier that that was why he wasn’t really answering me or speaking in more than just grunts.  After he started becoming more lucid, I realized how out-of-it he really had been earlier.  It was too late for me to be scared/worried, but he should have gotten to the hospital earlier.  I felt terrible.  I had been trying to do what I could for him, but didn’t realize that his resting was really being lethargic because of such a high fever.

The next morning, he took Tylenol, but then we decided to have him stop taking it, and wait and see if his temperature rose again.  This way, we’d catch it before the Immediate Care center closed, avoiding another night at the ER.  Well, it got up to 104.4 around 6:30, so we called his dad to watch the kids, put them to bed, and drove over.  They took him in back right away and started asking lots of questions, tested his vitals, and seemed very surprised that the hospital had basically sent us away the night before.  Even with his temp supposedly being back to normal.

They took some blood…..he almost puked/passed out.  They hooked him up to an IV because he was dehydrated.  He was still more aware than the day before, which was a relief.  After running the bloodwork, it came back that his white blood cell count was low, which meant a viral infection.  They told him to make sure he drank more fluids over the next few days, as well as take Motrin and Tylenol.

He took one more day off of work, and I tried to be a better wife.  🙂  Now I had my 3 babies to take care of.  He had eaten Lipton soup both Sunday and Monday, but Tuesday he decided to try and have some rice.  He didn’t have much of an appetite.  Probably because I kept making him drink so much water. 

In the midst of all this I was still trying to get the deck and swingset stained.  The swingset was the hardest part because of the height.  I’m terrified.  I tried to do the roof, I really did.  I got up pretty high on the 14-foot ladder, but couldn’t do it with the paint tray and paintbrush in my hands because I wouldn’t have a hand free to hang on to the ladder for dear life.  So, our brother-in-law said he would do it later this week.

We also were supposed to have a shed built.  It finally got done today.  Yesterday was raining so they couldn’t do it.  Which also meant we were stuck inside.  Again.  And then they came today.  Which meant we were stuck inside.  Again.

I also still had to force myself to exercise.  I really really really really really really did NOT want to exercise today.  I went running.  I felt better.  I ran for a solid 30 minutes, no walking, no stopping.  Just zoning.  Just appreciating being by myself even though when I got back I felt like I could just crawl into bed, even as a sweaty mess.

It’s usually such a relief when Tim gets home from work because it’s so nice to not be outnumbered.  But even with him being home, he’s sick.  He can’t help with the kids, and he shouldn’t because we certainly don’t want them getting sick.  So, I was totally completely outnumbered all day long for the past week.  No breaks.  And I had an extra person to take care of (Love you, Tim).  And even during naptime I was staining or cleaning or doing other chores.

He’s feeling better though.  Thank goodness.  Today he took Motrin in the morning only.  But by 6:00 his temp was *only* 100.5. 

That’s where I am and where I have been.  But, I should be back soon.  But boy, I sure am tired.  🙂  This is now.

Rainy Day

NOW: We haven’t had any rainy days this summer.  Finally, one hit.  What the F am I supposed to do when I can’t even go outside with these 2? 

We went out for a little while in the morning, before the rain hit.  But it was dark.  And thundering.  I figured we better come inside.

We were sitting at the kitchen table, eating a snack, and I was in panic mode.  What will we do all day?  My first thought is turn on the TV.  Ok, last resort.  I was feeling pretty desperate.  I don’t know why…..what did we do all winter?  And it’s not like we don’t have millions of toys (not an exaggeration – friends whose kids are in daycare say we have more toys than the daycare).

OK, so what would we do?  COLOR!  That will hold for a little while.  🙂

It wasn’t too long ago that Will was more interested in eating crayons than coloring with them.  Ariel had caught on a little faster that they taste disgusting.  Now, it’s much better because I don’t have to watch him like a hawk; making sure he doesn’t end up with green teeth again.  It’s hard for me to remember that this is an ok activity now. 

They colored for longer than I thought.  Whew!  They really ended up having a good time, and even asked again to color later!  My little babies are growing up so fast. 

However, later on, they were not so agreeable.  Well, Will was not so agreeable.  I don’t know what was going on with him but he was being a bit of a monster.  I am happy to report that I did not raise my voice once.  He just kept whining and moaning and making this super annoying groaning sound.  I had no idea what was wrong with him.  I kept asking him over and over and over.  He’d play for like 5 minutes, and all the sudden be sitting and moaning again.  My kids have a lot of language skills – if something was wrong he should be able to kinda tell me. 

Finally, around 4:00, I took him very gently by the shoulders so he would look right at me.  I went through every body part, asking if it hurt.  He kept saying no.  I asked if he was tired.  I asked if he was hungry – YES!  And he ran to his highchair.  Well for goodness sake kid all you had to do was TELL MOMMY!  It was so frustrating.  Probably the most frustrated I’ve been with either of them all summer.

I gave him some blueberries as a little snack because it was only about an hour and half until dinner.  I know that at this age, if they say they’re hungry they really are.  I figured at least I was giving him a healthy option and if it meant he ate a little less at dinner, oh well, it was fruit!  Ariel had some cantelope. 

When Tim came home he asked if I was going to try and get a job next summer.  Ha Ha.

After they were in bed, I got on the Wii Fit to weigh-in.  Gained 0.7 lbs.  This was in addition to the 2 lbs. I had supposedly gained this weekend.   

I went running. 

I ran. 

And it helped all of my frustration from the day just melt away.  I did my normal route in 28 minutes – usually it takes me at least 30.  I don’t know why I just discovered this whole running thing.  I wish I had figured out sooner how much I like it!  HA!

When I came back the boy was still crying in his crib.  Tim and I finished our strength training and yoga together and then I finally I went in to check on him.  He was instantaneously quiet when I walked in.  Hm, very suspicious.  Obviously there was nothing “wrong”.  He just wanted company.  Which I guess is ok every once in a while.  I calmed him down and then went to take a shower.  When I got out…..crying again.  I stayed a little longer this time, rubbing his back, waiting until he fell asleep.  I was glad I got to go for that run because it helped me keep my sanity for this.

Sometimes I feel so guilty when I’m frustrated.  Sometimes I feel so guilty when I’m favoring one over the other.  All day, Ariel was fine.  Happy, playing, cute.  And at times, I wished it was just her and I for a couple hours and that I didn’t have to deal with the other one.  I feel like I didnt even get to spend time with her because I was trying to figure out what in the hell was wrong with Will. 

Patience helps me get over my guilt I guess.  If I was snapping at them or showing my frustration, I would feel more guilty.  He wasn’t meaning to be frustrating and I just kept that perspective in mind all day.  I counted to 10 in my head.  A lot.  I used my patient-mommy voice.  Because if they know I’m frustrated, they get even more frustrated….which is even worse. 

I guess I’m just venting.  And bragging.  Because I kept my cool.  All Day Long.  And by the end of the day I don’t know how I did it.  And by the end of the day I was ready to get a part-time job not only for next summer, but maybe even the rest of this one.  🙂   This is now.

THEN:  Oh, the heartburn.  I didn’t have any all pregnancy.  I know it’s a symptom, so I wasn’t concerned.  At first.  It was a Thursday night.  I woke up with a pain in my chest.  Heartburn.  I tried sitting up a little in bed to ease the feeling.  It was not comfortable for my stomach.  I laid down again.  I sat up again.  I laid down again.  Finally, Tim woke up.  Kinda what I was aiming for, without having to actually wake him.  The feeling was becoming unbearable.  He got up and looked in the medicine cabinet to see if I could take anything.  I didn’t want to risk it.  Not yet.

So, he did what any normal person does in “this day in age”.  Looked on the internet.  Milk.  Crackers.  Sit up. 

I was so tired.  I just wanted to lay down in my bed.  I did not want to be drinking milk.  I did not want to be eating crackers.  I did not want to be sitting up.  I wanted to be sleeping. 

He went and got me some milk and crackers.

I ate and drank while sitting up in bed.  He laid back down.  What else was he supposed to do, right?  He fell asleep.  I tried laying down again.  Way worse.

I decided to go hang out in the rocking chair in one of the baby rooms.  It was the room we were going to put them both in at first when they came home.  I rocked and ate more crackers and thought about my little ones in my belly.  They were probably sleeping.  Just like my husband.  I kinda tried to rest my eyes.  I fell asleep a little bit, here and there, only a light sleep.  The pain was not really subsiding, even with milk and crackers and sitting up.  Oh well, it was just one night.  I could nap tomorrow. 

I tried not to worry about it.  Lots of people get heartburn while pregnant.  The internet said so. 

When Tim got up the next morning, early, I was still in the rocking chair.  Still awake.  The pain was still there.  What if something was wrong?  I hadn’t had heartburn this whole 7 months, why suddenly now?  We went downstairs and he asked if I wanted breakfast but I wasn’t hungry, I couldn’t eat.  It would hurt.  He suggested I call the doctor.  He never suggests I call the doctor.  I never call the doctor.  Doctors just tell you you’re fine and send you on your way and you feel stupid for even asking.  Just because I had heartburn all night and this morning was no reason to call the doctor.  He wasn’t even there yet, it was only 7 in the morning.  I was fine.  That was then.

Who Knew?

A Link-Up to 18  Years to Life.

What did I not imagine myself saying as a mother?

  To Will (constantly): Get your hands out of your pants, you need to leave your little weenie pointing down or you pee all over yourself.

To Ariel: Do NOT lick your hands after putting them in the doggy water!

To both: Yes, I know, you don’t have to show me, Mommy knows where to wipe after going pee-pee, thank you.  (Why are my bathroom habits such great entertainment!?)