Sunday, October 21, 2007
Disney
Ah, yes. It's the week that I've been dreading looking forward to for some time now. Disney World. With the twins. My entire family is going, so there was no way I wasn't going. I know it's going to be a blast once we get there, but it's all the planning that has me a little nutty right now. I'm sure I'll have plenty of stories to tell upon my return!
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
S-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g
Back in May, I blogged about how Gavin always had his hands balled up in tight fists. I was worried, because he never seemed relaxed, and I was too tired at that point to consider that Gavin might actually grow and consequently his muscles might develop. I think back about that now and smile. I was so overwhelmed and sleep-deprived that I couldn't imagine any of this ever getting any easier, and it was that very thought that launched me into a pretty intense, er, funk.
I'm happy to report that these days I'm often funk-free. Tired, yes, but funk-free. Gavin qualified for physical therapy, so this lovely lady named Debbie comes out every other week to work with him. She shows me some stretches and massage that we can do to reduce his increased muscle tone. And it seems to be working! When we began a month ago, Gavin wasn't pulling his knees up to his chest, which is essential for crawling. After a few weeks of therapy, he's pulling those knees up like a champ. Pre-therapy, he was noticing his hands, but they always seemed to be clenched. Just this week he's been examining his outstretched hands, much to my delight.
I worried originally that this rigidity indicated something about his personality; that he was going to be a serious, uptight boy because he was always so tense. (I would have loved him anyway, mind you!) To my surprise, he is growing into an easy-going, relaxed baby. He smiles often, giggles a lot, and seems downright tickled at the busy world around him.
You're going to have to take my word for it, though. I've been trying to find a photo of Gavin to post here, just so I can show you how relaxed and open-handed he is. Alas, almost every photo I find shows Gavin tight-fisted and tense. Ah, the irony.
I'm happy to report that these days I'm often funk-free. Tired, yes, but funk-free. Gavin qualified for physical therapy, so this lovely lady named Debbie comes out every other week to work with him. She shows me some stretches and massage that we can do to reduce his increased muscle tone. And it seems to be working! When we began a month ago, Gavin wasn't pulling his knees up to his chest, which is essential for crawling. After a few weeks of therapy, he's pulling those knees up like a champ. Pre-therapy, he was noticing his hands, but they always seemed to be clenched. Just this week he's been examining his outstretched hands, much to my delight.
I worried originally that this rigidity indicated something about his personality; that he was going to be a serious, uptight boy because he was always so tense. (I would have loved him anyway, mind you!) To my surprise, he is growing into an easy-going, relaxed baby. He smiles often, giggles a lot, and seems downright tickled at the busy world around him.
You're going to have to take my word for it, though. I've been trying to find a photo of Gavin to post here, just so I can show you how relaxed and open-handed he is. Alas, almost every photo I find shows Gavin tight-fisted and tense. Ah, the irony.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Heavy
When I was a teenager (from about age 14 to 16), I danced on a television show called Dance Party USA. Every Saturday, for two years, I made my way to Philly and danced my little heart out on camera. Yes, it is a source of embarrassment, and not something I talk about a whole lot...mostly to avoid the good-natured teasing I get from my husband and family. But the fact is, it was a huge part of my formative years, especially because it was just good, clean fun. Oh, there were relationship dramas --who was dating who, and such -- but that was really the extent of it. Nobody fought, nobody said an unkind word to one another; we all just danced off some of that teenage angst we were feeling and occasionally made out behind the set. Good times.
Because it was a national show, those of us who danced every week were considered "regulars" and got fan mail. I'm sure you can imagine what this did for my self-image, since I was a skinny, lanky teenager, and definitely in my "awkward phase." (Never mind that some of the mail was from convicted felons in prison...) Since we were young, the producers of the show would screen any mail that came in, and weed out anything that was inappropriate, lewd, or hurtful. And they usually did a fine job of it. But one day, I opened an anonymous letter and was shocked by the things that a female viewer had written to me. She opened the letter by telling me, in her eloquent 14-year-old vocabulary, how unattractive I was. She also quipped that "my mother must be blind because she dresses me funny" and that I "smile too much." (I didn't know there was such a thing!) She closed the letter by telling me that she was my "#1 Hater." Now, my ego was bruised a little, but mostly I just couldn't believe that someone took the time out of their day to actually write this letter and send it off somewhere. In my sheltered, suburban existence, it was a foreign idea to me that someone could harbor so much hate over something so innocuous, something that had so little impact on their own life. I remember this event not because it hurt my feelings, but because it was my first experience with someone who hated just for hate's sake, and who felt the need to direct that hatred at someone, someone they didn't even know.
I'm glad I grew up in a time and a home where that letter was the most malicious thing I could imagine. I'm sure my parents sheltered me from a lot of the ugliness going on in the world. Now that I'm a parent, I'm thinking a lot more about the things I'm going to have to shelter Charlotte and Gavin from: nooses hanging from trees in Jena, kids egging on classmates in schoolyard fights, filming the fights with their cell phones, and posting the footage on You-Tube. Right down the road from us, in the school district where my sister teaches, a 14-year-old boy was just caught plotting an attack reminiscent of Columbine, and his mother was charged with buying her son the weapons. Can you even imagine?
To steal a quote from "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert...."Why is life all crazy like this?"
Because it was a national show, those of us who danced every week were considered "regulars" and got fan mail. I'm sure you can imagine what this did for my self-image, since I was a skinny, lanky teenager, and definitely in my "awkward phase." (Never mind that some of the mail was from convicted felons in prison...) Since we were young, the producers of the show would screen any mail that came in, and weed out anything that was inappropriate, lewd, or hurtful. And they usually did a fine job of it. But one day, I opened an anonymous letter and was shocked by the things that a female viewer had written to me. She opened the letter by telling me, in her eloquent 14-year-old vocabulary, how unattractive I was. She also quipped that "my mother must be blind because she dresses me funny" and that I "smile too much." (I didn't know there was such a thing!) She closed the letter by telling me that she was my "#1 Hater." Now, my ego was bruised a little, but mostly I just couldn't believe that someone took the time out of their day to actually write this letter and send it off somewhere. In my sheltered, suburban existence, it was a foreign idea to me that someone could harbor so much hate over something so innocuous, something that had so little impact on their own life. I remember this event not because it hurt my feelings, but because it was my first experience with someone who hated just for hate's sake, and who felt the need to direct that hatred at someone, someone they didn't even know.
I'm glad I grew up in a time and a home where that letter was the most malicious thing I could imagine. I'm sure my parents sheltered me from a lot of the ugliness going on in the world. Now that I'm a parent, I'm thinking a lot more about the things I'm going to have to shelter Charlotte and Gavin from: nooses hanging from trees in Jena, kids egging on classmates in schoolyard fights, filming the fights with their cell phones, and posting the footage on You-Tube. Right down the road from us, in the school district where my sister teaches, a 14-year-old boy was just caught plotting an attack reminiscent of Columbine, and his mother was charged with buying her son the weapons. Can you even imagine?
To steal a quote from "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert...."Why is life all crazy like this?"
Friday, October 12, 2007
A New Level of Stupid
On our trip to the grocery store yesterday...
Grocery Store Employee: Are they twins?
Me: Yep.
GSE: How old are they?
Me: 7 months.
GSE: Both of them?
Grocery Store Employee: Are they twins?
Me: Yep.
GSE: How old are they?
Me: 7 months.
GSE: Both of them?
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
It's Begun...
I am officially that mom. You know, the one who hears their child cough and automatically assumes it's pneumonia? In my defense, I do think my antennae are up because of the whole insurance debacle, because I was never really an alarmist before.
Let me give you some background. Gavin is generally a happy baby. Both babies are generally happy, really, but Gavin fusses less than Charlotte. They are both easy to appease, usually stop crying once they are held, and can often be put to sleep without a major amount of effort. (She says, as she pauses to glance at the ceiling for evidence of a lightening bolt about to strike.)
So today, at his normal naptime, Gavin was inconsolable. He had a full belly, a clean diaper, and I could tell he was tired because he was rubbing his eyes. Normally under these conditions, he's asleep before I turn on the monitor. Today was different---he would not. stop. screaming. I brought him back downstairs, where Michael and I both tried to calm him down. No luck. In fact, the screaming got worse. I thought perhaps he needed another diaper change, and when I removed the diaper, I saw what appeared to be a yellowish-blue bruise stretching across his abdomen. This sent my mind reeling. Was there some blunt trauma that I didn't know about? Could a too-tight diaper have caused this? Was he bleeding internally?
I frantically called the doctor's office, but the staff was out to lunch and due to return in ten minutes. Ten more minutes and I would have completely lost my mind, so I hopped in the car with Gavin screaming in his car seat and headed straight to the office. I was barely out of the driveway before he fell asleep.
I decided to forgo the trip to the doctor's office for the moment, but I was still panicked, so my mom came over to have a look at the bruise and help determine my next course of action. Turns out it wasn't a bruise after all. We were out taking a walk earlier in the day, and it was pretty hot, and I think some of the dye from the Winnie the Pooh design on Gavin's diaper transferred onto his skin. At least, that's what I'm guessing, since the "bruise" washed off with soap and water.
I have a feeling this won't be the last time I'm thrown into a panic over something like diaper dye.
Let me give you some background. Gavin is generally a happy baby. Both babies are generally happy, really, but Gavin fusses less than Charlotte. They are both easy to appease, usually stop crying once they are held, and can often be put to sleep without a major amount of effort. (She says, as she pauses to glance at the ceiling for evidence of a lightening bolt about to strike.)
So today, at his normal naptime, Gavin was inconsolable. He had a full belly, a clean diaper, and I could tell he was tired because he was rubbing his eyes. Normally under these conditions, he's asleep before I turn on the monitor. Today was different---he would not. stop. screaming. I brought him back downstairs, where Michael and I both tried to calm him down. No luck. In fact, the screaming got worse. I thought perhaps he needed another diaper change, and when I removed the diaper, I saw what appeared to be a yellowish-blue bruise stretching across his abdomen. This sent my mind reeling. Was there some blunt trauma that I didn't know about? Could a too-tight diaper have caused this? Was he bleeding internally?
I frantically called the doctor's office, but the staff was out to lunch and due to return in ten minutes. Ten more minutes and I would have completely lost my mind, so I hopped in the car with Gavin screaming in his car seat and headed straight to the office. I was barely out of the driveway before he fell asleep.
I decided to forgo the trip to the doctor's office for the moment, but I was still panicked, so my mom came over to have a look at the bruise and help determine my next course of action. Turns out it wasn't a bruise after all. We were out taking a walk earlier in the day, and it was pretty hot, and I think some of the dye from the Winnie the Pooh design on Gavin's diaper transferred onto his skin. At least, that's what I'm guessing, since the "bruise" washed off with soap and water.
I have a feeling this won't be the last time I'm thrown into a panic over something like diaper dye.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Gotta Love Insurance Companies!
The babies had a 7-month checkup today. All went very well. Charlotte weighs in at 16 lbs, 3 ozs., and Gavin tips the scales at 17 lbs, 5 ozs. Our pediatricians and the NICU neonatologists have recommended that the twins receive the RSV vaccine this winter. Since they were born more than 2 months early and their immune systems are still developing, a case of RSV could do some serious damage. They would each need one shot once a month for 6 months, November - April, which is considered RSV season.
Except that our insurance company doesn't agree. Apparently, it was decided that the babies don't really need the shot. (Which begs the question: If 31-weekers don't need the shot, who does?)
They turned down our pediatrician's request to have the twins vaccinated, which means we would have to pay out-of-pocket for the vaccine. How much does an RSV vaccine cost, you ask? Somewhere around $1000 per shot. And remember, they need 6 shots. Per baby. Are you doing the math, people? That's $12,000 in shots.
Which means, unless the insurance company has a change of heart (let's all have a chuckle at that one), the babies will not be vaccinated against RSV this winter. Which means they will not be leaving our house this winter. We will be stockpiling food, water, and Purell, boarding up the doors and windows, and hunkering down for the winter. We'll send out an occasional digital photo just so you can see how we are faring. See you all in May!
Except that our insurance company doesn't agree. Apparently, it was decided that the babies don't really need the shot. (Which begs the question: If 31-weekers don't need the shot, who does?)
They turned down our pediatrician's request to have the twins vaccinated, which means we would have to pay out-of-pocket for the vaccine. How much does an RSV vaccine cost, you ask? Somewhere around $1000 per shot. And remember, they need 6 shots. Per baby. Are you doing the math, people? That's $12,000 in shots.
Which means, unless the insurance company has a change of heart (let's all have a chuckle at that one), the babies will not be vaccinated against RSV this winter. Which means they will not be leaving our house this winter. We will be stockpiling food, water, and Purell, boarding up the doors and windows, and hunkering down for the winter. We'll send out an occasional digital photo just so you can see how we are faring. See you all in May!
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Scheduling Conflict
So, I have achieved some semblance of a schedule with the babies. Our mornings operate like a well-oiled machine. They are up around 7:00, they play, eat oatmeal, take baths, nurse, and go down for a nap around 9:00am. The afternoon naps are still anybody's guess, but they have been slightly more predictable of late. The sleep training is also going quite well. On many occasions I can put the babies down awake and they go to sleep on their own. If they don't, it usually requires only minimal intervention on my part.
I am giving myself a mental pat-on-the-back as I type.
My only concern is this: What happens when very scheduled babies are suddenly taken off of their schedule? Sure, a schedule is great when you're at home, but we are heading to Disney World with my entire family in two weeks. There will be no rocking chairs, no cozy familiar cribs, no "schedule." I am afraid. Very afraid. Once, the babies were out at a restaurant past their bedtime, and they screamed inconsolably until I finally took them home. What am I going to do at the Hoop-De-Do Review (sp?), which will inevitably run past their bedtime? Any advice would be appreciated from my fellow Type A mommies.
I am giving myself a mental pat-on-the-back as I type.
My only concern is this: What happens when very scheduled babies are suddenly taken off of their schedule? Sure, a schedule is great when you're at home, but we are heading to Disney World with my entire family in two weeks. There will be no rocking chairs, no cozy familiar cribs, no "schedule." I am afraid. Very afraid. Once, the babies were out at a restaurant past their bedtime, and they screamed inconsolably until I finally took them home. What am I going to do at the Hoop-De-Do Review (sp?), which will inevitably run past their bedtime? Any advice would be appreciated from my fellow Type A mommies.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Two is Enough!
Sometimes, when I have both babies downstairs with me, and I'm very tired, I swear I hear another baby crying in the house. And for a split-second, I think, "Well, I guess the other baby is awake. I should go get him/her."
That's when I close my eyes and thank my lucky stars that I have twins, not triplets.
That's when I close my eyes and thank my lucky stars that I have twins, not triplets.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Monday, October 1, 2007
Guilty Pleasures, Take 2
This list was so much fun, I actually thought of more:
Dr. Phil
So pompous, I love it.
Kohr's Brothers Vanilla and Chocolate Twist Ice Cream Cone with Rainbow Jimmies
Worth the weight.
Blogging
Perhaps the time would be better spent folding onesies, but this definitely centers me.
Reading Old Love Letters
When I spend my day with spit-up and mashed banana on my shirt, it's nice to know that someone once thought I was sexy.
Way-Too-Expensive Beauty Products
When I spend my day with spit-up and mashed banana on my shirt, it's nice to know that I might one day be sexy again.
Dr. Phil
So pompous, I love it.
Kohr's Brothers Vanilla and Chocolate Twist Ice Cream Cone with Rainbow Jimmies
Worth the weight.
Blogging
Perhaps the time would be better spent folding onesies, but this definitely centers me.
Reading Old Love Letters
When I spend my day with spit-up and mashed banana on my shirt, it's nice to know that someone once thought I was sexy.
Way-Too-Expensive Beauty Products
When I spend my day with spit-up and mashed banana on my shirt, it's nice to know that I might one day be sexy again.