By popular demand, below are the clues to deciphering the long awaited, much anticipated and oft debated naming of the twins. Who knew that this would become such a popular guessing game – from the center of elementary school gossip in the grass seed capitol of the world (Albany, Ore.) to the topic of conversation among the ladies in Camarillo, Calif. Continue reading
Blue Clues
Who’s On First?
"Game Called Because of Rain" by Norman Rockwell
Winding down week two of captivity. There are 36 ceiling tiles above me. Seven of them have accoutrements such as lights, sprinklers or fans installed. Sleep deprivation continues, with the hospital staff not allowing more than two and a half hours of sleep at a time. I am convinced the-powers-that-be secretly turn the heat up at night to assist in the baby cooking process. Why yes, in answer to your question, I am indeed going stir crazy. Continue reading
PITA
PITA – acronym: “Pain in the [tushy]” (Insert appropriate synonym for tushy as appropriate.)
I have always been a cool, calm, rational and logical individual. I have never had a freak out over a simple matter or let a situation get to me. (Okay, friends and family reading this – once you have picked yourself up off the floor and recovered from hysterical laughter and finished rolling your eyes, please know the above statements are meant to be tougue-in-cheek.)
But last night, I panicked (although, I actually did behave calmly and rationally – who knew, pregnancy hormones really do change your demeanor…) Continue reading
Parental Practice
Consciousness – also known as that annoying time between naps. I’ve received a lot of advice on arriving babies. One of the big tips – get some rest now, because you’ll never sleep once the kiddos arrive. So apologies for the lengthy duration between posts, I’m constantly trying to nap.
Sadly, I’m beginning to suspect that the hospital has a policy against letting patients sleep. I know I’ve previously posted a bit about this via the beeping machines. But now I’m here for the long haul; I’m confined to baby jail until the boys make their grand debut. Continue reading
Don’t Rain on My Parade
This post takes the place of two that I previously planned to write. Originally, I wanted to share pictures of my baby showers – sitting on couches among friends and family, oohing and ahhhing over adorable baby boy wear. Then I was admitted to the hospital. There went those plans.
As I mentioned in the last post, several out-of-towners decided to come visit me anyway. The thought was to visit with family and have a Baby Cloudy with a Chance of Some Drizzles on Sunday with my mom, Aunt J, college roomie Becca and her beyond adorable seven-month-old daughter. But the contractions came back. (I thought they were a gonner, but the contractions came back the very next day. They just couldn’t stay away.) Sorry, I digress. Continue reading
Strega Nona
Strega Nona is an elderly lady who helps her fellow villagers out with their troubles. (I can see why perhaps Mom is opposed to this particular name for her grandmotherly moniker.) On a side note, my mother is here to help out for the weekend, as I am still very much bed-ridden. Lest anyone think this post compares my mother to a witch, note that the plot of Strega Nona revolves around a magic pasta pot; the women in my family do not cook. Continue reading
The Jungle Cruise
Hello everyone, and welcome aboard the Jungle Cruise. My name is Mom, and I’ll be your skipper, guide, social director and educational instructor for the next three months and 18 years.
Knock, knock… Who’s there? Safari… Safari Who? Safari, so good. Let’s get this cruise started. (Yes, folks, I did grow up in So. Cal. And I spent numerous minutes traversing the treacherous (humor) on the wild waters Jungle Cruise loop at Disneyland.) Continue reading
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Six Months and Determined to Wait Three More
I am rapidly approaching the end of the second trimester. Best part about this? Means the boys are still bouncing about on the inside!
Today’s doctor appointment revealed that the twins are moving and shaking exactly as they should be. I went to the appointment and returned back home on the SAME DAY!!! (And yes, the exclamation points were very necessary.)
Such good news, combined with the gorgeous weather that’s rolled in for the weekend, inspired us to document the pregnancy at 25 weeks. As of last week, the boys weigh 1lb. 6oz. each. Continue reading
One of These Things is Not Like the Others
Let’s play a children’s game shall we? Please sing along:
One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn’t belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?
Cribs- Glider Rocking Chair
- Infant Car Seats
- Double Stroller (the size of a small SUV)
Coffee Maker- High Chairs
- Sweet Children’s Book
Did you guess which thing was not like the others?
Did you guess which thing just doesn’t belong?
If you guessed this one is not like the others,
Then you’re absolutely…right!
Good job! You noticed that a coffee maker is not like the other items. It is not baby gear to help make the twins arrival more comfortable. Babies don’t drink coffee! And in this case, neither do their pregnant mommy or their daddy. Yet, the above lists items we have received as gifts for the boys.
Several days ago, a very insistent UPS man arrived at the door. He rang the doorbell, and waited. He knocked, and waited. The dogs continued to go ballistic (A friend! A friend! I must meet this very exciting person who obviously wants to say hello to me!!!) I finally decided it might be important and waddled over to open the door. “I need a signature” the UPS man greeted me.
I wasn’t expecting anything, so I assumed it must be something for the boys. We’ve been receiving packages for them recently since there were baby showers planned for me (now canceled). It was in a CuisinArt CoffeeMaker box. But hey – who doesn’t reuse boxes for shipping? (My brother received his Christmas gift bundled in a sewing machine box last year because that is the box I had lying around.)
Inside the box was a <drum roll please . . .> CuisinArt CoffeeMaker! It is a black classic 12-cup machine for the java aficionados out there. Now, we have a small espresso machine we received as a wedding gift that is used for the occasional tasty latte or mocha. And I’ve been known to indulge in a variety of tea colors (black, green, white). Then I saw the programmable caffeinator was from Grandma Janet (or Meemaw if no preferred name is settled upon).
I used my impressive deductive reasoning skills, honed from reading every single “Encyclopedia Brown, Boy Detective” book in my youth (let’s admit it – this one isn’t really a Sherlock Holmes caliber mystery). Grandma Janet had not sent the boys (or their parents) a coffee maker. Grandma Janet had sent herself a coffee maker.
My mother has been making more trips up to visit lately – from shopping for baby furniture to futility trying to comfort me in the hospital – and plans to spend more time once the boys arrive. Given that these are her first grandchildren, I assume we will be seeing a lot of her in the future.
Previously, my parents would visit for a weekend perhaps once or twice a year. Despite our lovely home, complete with a very nice guest suite (if I do say so myself), each visit saw a replay of a typical morning routine:
“Oh geez, you guys don’t have a coffee maker!”
“No, we don’t drink coffee every morning.”
“Starbucks. Where is the nearest Starbucks?”
“Around the corner, we’re (and by this I mean Jon) is happy to go get you something.”
“Phew. I would like a latte.”
“We do have an espresso machine. I can make you a latte.”
“No, I don’t like espresso.”
After a Starbucks run, my caffeinated parents would drink and discuss the tragedy of our lack of coffee awaiting them the moment they wake up. I did not previously realize their coffee addiction was so intense that my mother would need a 12-cup machine, but I’m happy to enable all future coffee junkies since I imagine having two needy infants will only intensify the need for the habitual morning coffee(s).
I for one, will stick with my tea. But if you come by – expect to be offered a cup of joe. Or 12.
Happy Mother’s Day!
Happy Mothers Day! This year this day has certainly taken on new meaning for me. So, may every mother and mother-to-be have a wonderful day to remember how much you mean to your loved ones both young and old.
When I was in high school, I thought I was a grown-up.
When I was in college, I wondered when I would actually be a grown-up.
When I got a job, I though people might discover I was just playing grown-up.
When I bought a house, I wondered if I was ready to be a grown-up.
When did I realize I actually was a grown-up? The day I realized, “mom was right.”
Via my extensive observations, being a mom requires you to be a grown-up. It is all about sacrifice. I’ve been told it’s an incredible feeling that overwhelms you when you hold your new child – realizing you’d give anything for them. But let’s take a moment to remember all the much much smaller sacrifices – the ones that begin long before we meet our precious children.
- Trading food for . . . well, anything you can stand to throw up.
- Morning lattes for the natural exhaustion occurring in pregnancy.
- Working (and learning) lunches for (lots of) doctors appointments.
- Gossipy discussions for conversations about various bodily functions.
- Dates with your husband for an early bedtime.
- Sexy heeled shoes for a larger size in flats.
- Long walks around the neighborhood with the pups for short runs to the bathroom.
- A feminine strut for an adorable little waddle.
- Workouts for weight gain (ok, this one isn’t so terrible – Jon went for a two mile run the other day; I ate an ice cream drumstick).
- Casual dinners with friends for hospital stays.
- Baby showers for blood draws.
- Back massages for backaches.
- Makeup for medications.
- Standing upright for bedrest.
Over the years, I’m sure I’ll have many new memories to share on Mothers Day – from their first steps to the first time both kids are completely and thoroughly embarrassed by their parents (namely a mother who keeps writing about them for the world to read about).
I am in no hurry (are you listening boys), but I am, of course, excited to meet my little dudes in several months time. I hope you and all your little ones (no matter how old) are happy and healthy.