You-Know-Who

I really have to stop reading Harry Potter before bed.

Last night I barely slept because I fighting Voldemort and looking for Horcruxes in my sleep.

It spills over into my daytime, too. Because I am so engrossed in the book, and I'm usually exhausted to boot, I sometimes really believe that I am able to perform magic. For a brief moment yesterday, I actually thought I could conjure up a sandwich without getting off the couch by simply uttering, "Accio sandwich!" (It's a Summoning Charm, for all you Muggles out there.) If only it were that easy.

Big Words and Stuff

I'm an ailurophile. I tell you this for two reasons:

(1) It's a big word, and I don't know too many big words, so when I can use one, I do.

(2) I am wrestling with a moral dilemma.

I have three cats: Oliver, Porkchop, and Applesauce. We have had them for about 5 years, and seriously, my husband and I treat them like they are our children. Furry children. But ever since the babies came home, we have not been able to give them the attention to which they were formerly accustomed, as you can imagine.

While they used to occasionally use our rugs and couches as scratching posts, it was never a huge issue. Their fur (and their tendency to shed it all over my couches) was the biggest problem, but we managed to confine their need to sharpen their claws to scratching posts and mats. However, since the babies have arrived, the cats are completely annihilating our furniture. Our couches are shredded and they are pulling tufts of fabric out of our new, beautiful Oriental rug.

So now, I'm thinking about something that pre-baby I would have described as barbaric. Declawing.

Can anyone put my mind at ease about this? I obviously want to protect my possessions, but I don't want my cats to be in any permanent discomfort.

I should mention that they are completely indoor cats since we live by a busy road.

Bad Mommy

I cut Charlotte's finger with the nail clippers today. Man, fingers sure do bleed a lot. It wouldn't have been so bad if this wasn't the second time I've done this to Charlotte. Poor thing.

Early Intervention Update

The Early Intervention team came out to assess Charlotte and Gavin yesterday, at the suggestion of our pediatrician. They did a multidisciplinary evaluation for each baby that assessed areas of physical and verbal development. If either baby showed a 25% delay in any one area, they would qualify for services, and actually, I was kind of hoping they would qualify, just for the extra support.

Charlotte did not qualify. Since they based the assessment on their adjusted age (3 1/2 months) and not their chronological age (5 1/2 months), Charlotte behaved age appropriately. She coos, kicks, grabs with both hands, etc... just like a term 3-4 month old baby, which was good news!

Because he is hypertonic (has increased muscle tone), Gavin did qualify. A therapist will come out every other week to do some exercises and share some activities that I can do with him. I've blogged before about Gavin's rigidity, so I had a feeling this was coming. Everything else is right on target with Gavin, which is great news. Since he seems most tense after a feeding, the team suggested we take Gavin to a pediatric gastroenterologist to discuss his reflux. It seems the Zantac isn't helping as much as we had hoped, and he still appears uncomfortable. He rarely cries, however, because he is such a happy baby, so I think that can sometimes disguise how uncomfortable he really is.

Anyway, good news all around!

Wordless Wednesday (posted a bit early)

Shameless Self Promotion

As you can see by the banner across the top of my site, I am now a stallholder for Barefoot Books. Click on the banner to look at some of the beautifully illustrated multicultural books they offer. If you'd like to order anything, please email me your choices, and I will be glad to get them to you.

Happy Anniversary!

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. Thank you for visiting me every single day when I was on hospital bedrest , even though I'm sure it was a pain in the butt for you to put your lives on hold just to come by and bring me a chocolate milkshake, rice pudding, or some lemonade.

Thank you for visiting the twins every day in the hospital. Clearly they were the rock stars of the NICU, as there was an endless stream of grandparents, aunts, and uncles around their isolettes almost 24-hours a day. Made me feel great, and believe me, when they are old enough to understand, they will thank you for it too.

And thank you especially for being my support system since I've been home with the babies. You've seen me through the post-partum, the days when they won't stop screaming, and everything in between, but it's the smaller stuff that matters most -- like when you just come over to hold them so Michael and I can eat dinner.

You've set quite an example as parents for Michael and me. We love you so much!

There's Something To It....

I'm posting this cautiously, with my fingers crossed, because I don't want to jinx myself....

Over the last few days I've developed a little "naptime routine." This decision was made after a hellish day when Charlotte and Gavin went on a napping strike, and were so exhausted and cranky by the end of the day that their eyes were practically swollen shut.

Several times now, I have put Charlotte down COMPLETELY AWAKE, and, lo and behold, the precious child has put herself to sleep without so much as a peep. Not every time, but enough. Gavin's not quite there yet, but I see the potential.

Perhaps we will avoid "crying it out?" I hope so.

The Hopeless Gourmet

So, I'm not much of a cook, but I'm trying. At the very least, I attempt to throw together something healthy (and somewhat edible). It's not easy, because I'm a vegetarian, and Michael is not. I'm quite sure he has had enough of my "chicken parm," "tacos" and "meatloaf" to last a lifetime.

It seems, however, that the babies enjoy screaming at the exact moment we try to sit down to eat, so we usually wind up trying to shovel the food in with one hand while holding a baby in the other. Indigestion, anyone?

As you can imagine, I have little time to cook gourmet meals. That's why I find these two microwaveable products well worth the money:

The Bird's Eye vegetables are great...they steam in the bag in 5-6 minutes, and they taste good. And the rice cooks in 90 seconds. I'm sure it's completely stripped of all its fiber and nutrients in order to cook so quickly, but hell, it's better than eating a sleeve of Oreos for dinner. (Yes, I've done it).

one for the record books

Apparently the universe doesn't like it when I brag about having good days. No, sir.

Today has been pure hell. The babies each received 5 vaccinations today; 4 in their thigh and 1 orally. They have been screaming bloody murder for the past several hours, and no amount of Tylenol has taken the edge off (for the babies or for me).

If one more child sucks on me, scratches at me, or spits-up on me, I think I'm going to jump the next bus out of town.

Oh yeah, and my pediatrician has decided that I need to stop giving Gavin the pacifier. Gavin, who screams if the pacifier leaves his mouth for more than 3 seconds. "He's smarter than you," she quipped. "He doesn't need it; he just knows if he cries you'll give it to him." Is she kidding?

Yay, Me!

Allow me to brag for just a moment. After a very long road, with too many twists and turns to mention here, I nursed the babies exclusively today. No supplementing with formula. No feeding them expressed milk. No bottles to wash.

Nothing expresses my joy better than this post from Stacie at The Twinkies. Metal, indeed.

I Heart Mom

It's official: Gavin is a Momma's Boy. Lately, and especially when he's cranky, he can only be consoled by me. This morning he woke up crying, and Michael tried to comfort him. Nothing was working, and the crying was escalating. "Is he hungry?" Michael asked. "He shouldn't be, " I replied. "He only ate an hour ago, and it was a lot." I reached for Gavin, laid him next to me in the bed, and cuddled him close. He let out a deep, happy sigh, closed his eyes, and went to sleep. I love that.

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Anxiety runs in my family, to some degree. (Thanks, Nana G.) Fortunately, I am able to manage it pretty well during most daily activities (I think...my friends and family might argue otherwise). You'll see it running rampant in certain situations, though, like if I'm late for work or an appointment. I literally get hives. But for the most part, my anxiety level is usually low. Present, but low.

Except when I go to sleep.

When I sleep, all bets are off. My anxiety is completely unbridled and manifests itself in my dreams. Honestly, I must have 8-10 dreams a night, which I think is why I never feel completely rested. Ever. I have three anxiety-driven recurring dreams, and let me tell you, they are beauties. I wake up in a cold sweat every time.

The first is always some variation of the following scenario: I'm in high school or college and I have to get to class. Only I can't remember what class it is. It's the middle of the semester; surely I've been to this class before...but I have no recollection of the location of the room or the identity of the professor. I wind up wandering all around campus, searching for a schedule of my courses, and never make it to class.

The second is simple: My teeth fall out. I dream this one at least every other week, and always wake up frantically rubbing my finger along my gums to see if I still have teeth. Sometimes I lose one at time, sometimes they all fall out at once.

The third is that I need to get somewhere, usually work, but I'm hopelessly lost and can't get to where I need to be. I try to call someone for directions, but I keep misdialing the number. I'll almost have the number dialed until I get to the last digit, and then I hit the wrong button and have to start all over.

The other night I had all three dreams in a row. Didn't get much sleep that night.

I wonder what all of this means? Especially considering that, despite the fact that I have 4- month-old twins and other mundane stuff, my life is relatively stress-free at the moment? I think Freud would have a field day with me....

Beach Babies

Our first trip to the beach was a success! The babies slept so well that week; I swear, there is something about that salt air. They only woke once during the night to eat. I felt like a new woman! Of course, now that we're home again, their old sleeping habits have returned.

As for me, I'm still ghostly pale. Our pediatrician recommended keeping them off of the beach, and it was so bleeping hot that I couldn't even really take them for walks. I got down to the beach once, for about two hours. It was wonderful. I actually got to read a book!

Taking the twins on the boardwalk was insane. People literally stood in front of the stroller, causing me to come to a complete halt, to stare at them. It was unreal. We saw a woman with triplets on the boardwalk. I smiled and said, "Wow. When I have a bad day, I think to myself, "Someone out there is doing this with THREE!" She reminded me, "When I am having a bad day, I think to myself, "Someone out there is doing this, and their kids aren't healthy." That made me feel like a big sh*t, but it certainly made me count my blessings and be thankful that Charlotte and Gavin are doing so well. It's all about perspective.