Tuesday, January 26, 2010


You probably wonder when I have the time to ramble online when all I do is complain about lack of sleep. Well...after every feeding, it takes anywhere from 1 to 180 minutes to get the girls settled back down. While I'm sitting on the ottoman talking to them or gently spooning Benadryl into their mouths (joke) to help lull them to sleep, I grab the computer and type a little here and there. I takes me about a week to write a post. So, picture me sitting in the dark at 2:00 a.m....face aglow from the light of the laptop...patting the girls on their bellies...feeding them their muzzles...ahem, pacifiers...that's where I am right now.

There's this new TV show coming out called Parenthood and their advertisements are pretty funny. One of them showed clips from the show alternating with little captions that said, "Parenthood...the reason some animals eat their young." Now, I'm not gonna eat PL or Harps...well...............nah, I won't eat them...BUT, only being four weeks (on Wednesday) into this whole parenting thing, I can understand the concept.

Yesterday "morning" I "woke up" and could not, for the life of me, figure out what day it was. Not day of the month...day of the week. I was debating between Monday or Tuesday. Finally consulted my phone to see it was Monday. Sad.

I've learned a lot in the past four weeks...wow, has it really been four weeks? That means, I haven't been out of the house once (except twice to check the mail, once to go to supper club, and once to go to Target with David) in four weeks. I haven't seen my friends in four weeks. I haven't fixed my hair in four weeks. I haven't brushed my teeth in four weeks. Ha, that one was a lie. I brush my teeth every minute.

We have to do a lot of laundry. A LOT of laundry. I didn't know this, but babies are messy. Who knew, right? You'd figure they'd be cleaner. It's not like they do anything during the day. David and I used to do a load of laundry about every other day. That's all we needed. Now we do about 2-3 loads in a day. Most of which is baby stuff. These kids spit like camels. They up-chuck. They poop and pee...you have to put diapers on them. I thought they came out knowing how to use a toilet. They had nine months to learn that. Lazy. We have to change their clothes 2-4 times a day. They don't love that, but I remind them they have no one to blame but themselves. I say, "Well, when you feel the need to regurgitate, there are plenty of burp clothes laying around...just grab one."

It's amazing how little sleep the human body can survive on. Early Sunday morning/maybe late Saturday night...one of those...David and my mom inform me that both of them are feeling nauseated and spent the remainder of the night and all day Sunday in the bathrooms...doing...stuff. Yep...stomach virus. Seeing as how we've been living in a hygienically uncompromised Bio-Dome, we're not really sure how they got it. Amazingly, neither myself nor the girls have been infected...oooh, infected...sounds like a movie...Baby Zombies...Bombies....Zabies (no, that one sounds like a disease.) My dad seems to think it might have something to do with the fact that a year and a half ago, when David and I were cruising in the South Pacific, I got Norwalk's, the 24-hour cruise ship virus. And, I possibly still have the antibodies from that, which I, in turn, gave to the girls. SUPER MILK. So, anyways. I had to take care of the girls by myself all night long. Mom ended up going home because she couldn't be around the girls. Sweet, amazing, wonderful sister Sara came and stayed all day with us. David couldn't really help us because he was still contagious and couldn't touch the girls. It was the CRISIS OF THE CENTURY for me. I cried pretty much the entire day until I dehydrated and shriveled up into a dry, emotionless husk of the person I used to be. Sara came and hugged me for awhile and David gave me air hugs. I've never been so exhausted in my entire life. I slept about 3 hours in a 24-hour period. That's probably why I can't remember what day of the week it is. Anyways...God is good and blessed us with a new day. David's fever went away and he felt like himself again. But, we're still being super cautious and David's been wearing gloves and not really touching the girls. We were by ourselves last night for the first night since they were born...and you know what, we survived. My Mom is feeling better and coming back on Wednesday...YAAAAAAAAAY! I look amazing. I think the new trend should be dark circles under the eyes.

Soooooo...I wanted to say thank you guys so much for your encouragement and comments about the breastfeeding. Y'all cracked me up and it was very very very helpful and informative. I'm still going to breastfeed every now and then, but right now, it's working best for us (my boobs) for me to pump and bottle feed. I know there's a bonding element when you breastfeed, but it's been really hard for me to bond with little Cuisinarts who are grinding at a very personal area. I mean, have you seen babies' gums? Really, have you looked? They have razor sharp edges with barbs and glass shards. It's like feeding a piranha...times two. And I'll bond with them later, when we go shoe shopping. But, I'm definitely going to pump and continue to feed them super milk. It's a hassle, but it beats $300 a month for formula. I need that money for diapers.

Everyone told me "Enjoy every moment because it goes by so fast and they won't always be that small or cuddly." I'm going to get a lot of hate for saying this, but I'll be honest, the newborn stage is not my fave. Yes, they are small and cute and cuddly and I absolutely LOVE their little hands and feet and noses and I LOVE to hold them and squeeze them, but not too tight, because they can break, you know. But, they'll go for HOURS without breathing sometimes and I'm constantly checking to make sure their chests are moving. They seem so fragile. I'm even worried about hurting their floppy little ears. Oh, and their hair is falling out. Is this okay? It really is like a Baby Zombies movie. It's just that I worry about every little thing. I freaked out the other day because I thought there were "growths" in their nose...nope, just boogers. I mean, I'm a crazy person...well, crazier person. Also, she added selfishly, I'm ready for them to start sleeping longer. I read that the introduction of solid foods will make them sleep almost the entire night...like 8-10 hours. So, David is grilling them steaks tonight. I know, I know...I'm sure y'all are sitting there saying, "Yeah, just wait...when they're 2, you'll wish they were newborns again." I'm sure I will. But at least they'll sleep longer...hopefully.

Did you know that if you don't feed a baby the MOMENT it grunts in hunger, THE ENTIRE WORLD WILL IMPLODE ON ITSELF IN A FLAMING HOLE OF NOTHINGNESS AND DESPAIR? True statement. It is the end of everything according to the twins. We constantly remind them that we have not forgotten about them and we will indeed feed them and there's no need to bless us out if it's been three hours and one minute. Demanding little suckers. And actually, I'm on borrowed time right now...it's been about three hours and 15 minutes. I'm living on the edge!

My abs are CRAZY. Well, I guess I shouldn't say "abs" seeing as how they're more like mush. I can feel my muscles tighten and relax when I get out of bed or a chair and when I stretch, it feels faaaabulous. But, I'll touch my stomach and tighten my "abs" and nothing. I can literally push through and touch my spine (ewwwww, what if I really could). Not that I had a six-pack before, but at least there was a response when I tightened my tummy. It's just so soft. Tee hee...it's really funny when you think about it. I told Sara it felt like mud. Just two more weeks and I can work on them again. Ah...to get back to a workout routine again. I miss my speed walking.

Well...Mylicon is liquid gold. That's all I have to say about that.

Right after the girls were born, they wheeled me into recovery and in walks a nurse with a tupperware container who says to my nurse, "Where do you want the placenta?" My nurse, Lesley, says, "Right there on that table is fine. I'll fill out the paperwork for it in a second." I thought maybe I was hallucinating, but yes, there sat my placenta (gross) in a Gladware plastic container. So, THAT'S why they make that size........anyways. I ask Lesley, "What are you doing with it? Is something wrong?" She assures me, "No, no, it's perfectly fine. The hospital always sends off multiples' placentas for research at [some university I forgot the name of up north] to see how twins and higher order multiples are formed and how they differ, etc." I was kind of like, "Oh, okay. I can tell you how they were formed...on a sunny day in May...in Charleston, South Carolina.........." She said I would get the report of their research in the mail and yesterday, it came in. All it said was..."This is the highest level of midi-chlorians we've ever seen." I KNEW it.

As much as I whine and complain, I absolutely love parenthood. I'm still so very new at it and I have so much to learn, but I can't imagine life without my sweet daughters. They have brought us so much joy and I wouldn't wish it any other way. They make me laugh, they make me cry (happy tears). I could stare at their faces for hours...just studying every perfect centimeter. They're identical, but they're two miracles from God and I am so grateful that He gave David and me the responsibility to take care of them and raise them for His glory. It's incredibly humbling. I probably get carried away a little bit when thinking about their futures. David rolls his eyes when I get all excited about helping them pick out their wedding dresses and their china and their husbands...oh yes, they will be arranged marriages...with interviews, background checks, drug tests, polygraphs, the works. The love I have for these two munchkins is overwhelming. They always say you never know the feeling until you have kids and sure enough...it's true. I never realized.

Okay, gonna go pay some bills. These girls need to start walking soon so they can get jobs and pay for their keep. They're expensive little moochers.

Sara (Aunt Moo [Mooser]...see Nicknames) came and stayed with us last night and out she walks from her shower in this...a onesie to match the girls. It was kind of creepy...scared me a little bit.

Hmmm...I'm thinking...I'm thinking...No. You cannot pull that color off. Go change.

What's this...what is this...oh, this. This is the Sympathy Violin. It plays a melody in honor of me not caring about your plight. It's a beautiful song. Hear it and weep. And take your complaints elsewhere.

And by elsewhere, I meant thattaway.

Heh. Hehehehe. The rumble you heard did, in fact, emanate from me. It was aaaaallllll me.

I could break your face with my forearm. Look at it...look. at. it. and. tremble.

DRAAAMA. Away from me, thouest you.


Yes, I heard it. Well, talking about it doesn't make it any less scary. It's out there. It will probably eat us...shh! There it is again. OHH...WHEW...it's just Daddy snoring. We're good.

I tip my hat to you, sir.

Come one, come all and see the dancing contortionist baby!

Lieutenant Piper Lee reporting for blah blah who cares.

We LOOOOOVE Star Trek...just like Poppadoc!

Make it so, Number One! Ohh...make that number two.

Am I still? Do I look still? Do I look asleep? Am I looking like I'm still? Look how still I can be. Look at my chin...if I hold it like this, I look really still.

Harper (L): I'm looking...looking...okay, they're gone.
Piper Lee (R): Good. Let's talk.

Harper: So...world domination. I'm thinking we start small...Luxembourg.
Piper Lee: I'm thinking we start your mom. I vote bigger. We plan big, we win big. Rhode Island first.

Harper: Well...fine...I'm just saying you always bite off more than you can chew. Do I need to bring up the 4.5 ounces...remember what happened the last time you begged for that extra half an ounce? It wasn't pretty.
Piper Lee: You said you would never mention that again. I KNEW you would throw that in my face.

Harper: Well, you threw it in Mom's face.
Piper Lee: YOU........

Harper: SHH! Someone's coming! Be gassy...drool...something!
Piper Lee: Baahh...gooo...I'm a baby...see how cute...bababa bubbles...fart.

Piper Lee

Harper Missouri

Me at 35 weeks...5 days before the girls arrived.

Me at 39 weeks...two days before their due date, January 28.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

My (New) Days

I have an hour before I have to feed the gremlins again, so I figured I'd say hey to you guys and post some more pictures...because I've only taken about 1,309,934 pictures of them.

A few weeks ago, my days were pretty routine. I'd wake up, work for 8 hours in my home office, do housework or run errands until David came home, eat supper, watch a House or DVR'd show or play a game just to relax, take a shower, go to bed, wake up and start again. No biggie. Here's a post from earlier in which I broke down the days...the only exception is that David is no longer a tax accountant PRAISE GOD!

Well...the past three weeks have been pretty routine, too. I was telling my dear friend Katie earlier today that I live in three hour increments now. This is what I mean...

Since there is no real "start" to the day, I'll just begin at 7:00 a.m.

7:00 a.m. - Feed the twins. This involves either breastfeeding or feeding from a bottle. Both are time consuming...both are messy...both require lots of burping. Harper is the best eater. Piper Lee INSISTS on adding her own sound effects to the feeding routine. She sounds like a rusty bicycle/donkey/old screen door. It's completely unnecessary and only added for dramatic effect. It does add a lot of air to her meal and must either be man-belched or poofed out the other end...if neither of these two options occur, you're in for a real special treat for the next three hours in the form of a red-faced newborn yelling obscenities at you.

7:40 a.m. - Change the twins. Nine times out of ten, both munchkins have left nice, curdy, yellow surprises and a huge pool of wet in their diapers. We've been using the Pampers Swaddlers so far...uh...LOVE. THEM.

7:50 a.m. - Try to get the twins to go to sleep. Either they will immediately doze off into baby dreamland or you'll spend the next two hours resenting your ability to hear. If they sleep...you sleep. If they don't sleep...you don't sleep. On the special occasion that neither of these things happen, you're stuck with a wide-awake and absolutely adorable little person just longing for you to talk to them, which they will happily listen to for hours on end. But, you're entirely too sleepy to carry on a conversation with an infant with no vocal skills, so what do you do? Well, you HAVE talk to them, because they're too cute for that not to happen. And thus, you lose this increment's nap.

7:50 a.m. - 8:00 a.m. - If the twins were fed with a bottle, pumping is in order. Sooooo boring, but entirely necessary if you want to not die of pain. This is also when I grab something to eat.

8:00 a.m. - 10:00 a.m. - You either sleep or don't sleep.

10:00 a.m. - Well, I'll be...feed the twins again.

10:40 a.m. - Change the twins...again.

10:50 a.m. - Try to get them to sleep...again.

11:00 a.m. - 1 p.m. - This is when I try to pay bills, we straighten up the house, not die of starvation, pump (if necessary), organize the BANK of milk storage bags in the fridge and freezer (yes...a bank...I would show you a picture, but I don't want Shane and Brooks to have a hissy fit), and sleep a tiny bit if we can.

1 p.m. - Looky there...they have to eat again.

1:40 p.m. - Diapers.

1:50 p.m. - Please sleep, little babies.

2 p.m. - 4 p.m. - This is when I try to accomplish any freelance work I have or send files to my main client or sleep. (I've only been working once or twice during the week right now. Working my way back up to full-time in the next few weeks.)

4 p.m. - Feed.

4:40 p.m. - Poop and pee.

4:50 p.m. - Sleep/playtime.

5 p.m. - 7 p.m. - Little Davey comes home to four extremely exhausted women...well, two of them are exhausted. The other two are drunk on milk and, after having gorged themselves, are sleeping quite contentedly. We all eat supper in a daze.

7 p.m. - Feed.

7:40 p.m. - Poop and pee.

7:50 p.m. - Sleep/playtime.

8 p.m. - 10 p.m. - Showers...oh, wonderful wonderful showers. You'd never think it, but babies get gross. They start smelling...and not just from the diapers. They just smell like...well...poopsourmilkpeedroolspitupbaby. But, they still smell so good and sweet and they're so soft and cuddly. We try to sleep during this time, too.

10 p.m. - 7 a.m. - This is when Mom and I turn into zombies...it's very scary. I think our eyes start glowing. We speak in monotones...our conversations are very limited and robotic, almost like someone else is speaking for us. We have burping contests...see whose baby can burp first/the loudest. My team always wins. Well, actually, Team Piper Lee always wins. I don't even think we're aware of what we're saying or doing. It's still the exact same schedule throughout the night, except for some reason, the girls think it's hilarious to be super grunty and squirmy at night, so our hoped-for two hour increments of sleep are generally more like 30-45 minutes at a time. Thus ends the neverending cycle.

Since it was arctic weather outside when we brought them home, we've kept them in the living room in these fabulous chair sleeper things we got as gifts because it's warmer there. They've taken naps in their crib and handled it famously. David's slept in our bedroom because he's been studying hard for a section of the CPA this Saturday and he's been working, so he's needed to rest. Mom's been sleeping in the guest room because she wakes up if a butterfly bats its eyelashes. And I've been sleeping in the recliner in the living room with the girls because I can sleep pretty much anywhere and I get better rest than Mom does in the chair and because it's super duper comfy...(and I'm near the kitchen...a.k.a. food).

These times change a lot and it's not exact, but this is just a general idea. And, all in all, the girls really are good kids. They fuss and fidget like all babies do, but they sleep pretty well. Only a few times have we had serious meltdowns. They've gotten some tummy aches and they're pretty gassy. What can I say, they're my kids...har har buuuuuuurp har har har. We've tried out Avent bottles, Medela bottles, and Playtex VentAire bottles. The Playtex is working best for us right now. We're going to maybe try the Podee bottles and maybe the Dr. Browns. Who knew there were so many choices.

I've been doing well, thanks for asking. Mainly, I just want to get an epidural in my chest and I'm so very very very tired. I was losing weight a little too quickly at first because I was just too overwhelmed to eat regularly when we first got home, but Mom's been making me drink Ensures to ensure (ha, see what I did there) that I stopped losing it so quickly. I gained 59 pounds total. I've lost 42 so far. I know that seems like a lot, but the majority of that was right after they were born. I mean, they weighed like 20 pounds each. Anyways...17 pounds to go. Yay for breastfeeding! Except now I'm hungry and thirsty 24/7.

Speaking of breastfeeding, I have little mini moments every day where I think to myself, "Is it worth it?" It hurts. It really does. Not just the actual breastfeeding...but all day long, it hurts. The class teacher said, "If you're doing it right, it won't hurt." Well, she was high or something because, from what I've heard from others, yeah, it hurts. And sometimes, it gets you all out of whack and you get flu-like symptoms. Not the flu, but you just have a general feeling of malaise (shout out to you, sistah). So, every other day, I've been achey, tired, and irritable...and I think, "Is this worth it?" And my Mom and David have been so supportive and have told me if I changed my mind about breastfeeding, I'm still the best mom to these girls and I have to pick what I feel is best for them and me. I know breastmilk is best, but this is tough. And how many kids out there have grown up on formula and are perfectly fine. I know my kids would be a-okay. My original goal was 6 months. That all of a sudden seems very daunting to me, so I've changed my goal to 3 months and I'm going to go from there. It's more of a challenge to me than anything. People have told me I'd never lose my weight or I'd never fit into my regular jeans again...yeah, if you know me at all, you know that if you tell me I can't do something, I'm going to do it just to spite you. Like, I had a man tell me I would get stretch marks. Like men know anything. So, of course, I did everything in my power (used Bio-Oil religiously) and howdy ho, no stretch marks. Weeeeeeeeeeell...no stretch marks on the belly, sides or thighs. When things happened up top after the girls arrived, that story changed. BUT, no stretch marks during pregnancy, so those don't count. Hey...my blog, my rules. Anyways...does breastfeeding get better? Any tips or tricks?

Alrighty...the natives are getting restless...time to feed the barbarians.

Can you deal with THIS?!

(Btw, I hate the toboggans they're always wearing. Dr's orders..."Keep the hats on them until they're at least 6 weeks." Just wanted you to know they weren't wearing them because I thought they were fashionable or something. They have much cuter hats that Senia, Kelly, and Tiffany have made them...just waiting for their noggins to fill out a little more so they can fit in them.)

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Hospital Fun

Up until almost three weeks ago (wow...time warp), I had never stayed in a hospital, never had a broken bone, never had stitches (except for when I had my wisdom teeth taken out), never been really sick. Oh wait...Sara did fracture my tail bone when I was 13. Thanks, Sara, for landing on my back...heifer. With Dad being a doctor, I've visited the hospital a lot. I've visited friends who were in the hospital. I've never liked hospitals. They smell weird. They're filled with sharp things. People who work there dress alike. It's not natural. And I've seen a lot of medical TV shows...and everything on TV is real...so, I was a little anxious about the whole hospital experience.

You know what...it wasn't all that bad. I had plenty of dislikes...but I had a lot of likes, too.

The babies were born! That means, most importantly, I get to have them! I can hold them, kiss them, tickle them, look at them...all of it...whenever I want. It also means, YES FINALLY THEY ARE OUT! I CAN BREATHE AGAIN! My skin is clearing up. My nose, OH MY GOSH, MY NOSE, is back to it's original size. Praise the Lord for that. I can wear normal clothes again. I can get out of bed like a normal person again. I can hug my husband again. I can lean over the sink to look in the mirror to get out that obnoxious black head again...well, not the same zit...but just that I can pop zits again. Anyways. But yeah...mostly I'm glad that I get to have the girls now and they're right here in front of me instead of tap dancing on my bladder. Everyone is much happier about this.

Cutie pie doctor. We'll call him Dr. Cutie Pie...because he's a cutie pie. Since Dr. Mac was out of town, he wasn't able to come visit me during my stay at El Hospital de Awesome. So, several other doctors from the practice came to see me. One of them being Dr. Cutie Pie. He and his wife also had twins. (Giggle giggle) We're pretty much BFFs. Strangely enough, I was also doing something extremely in appropriate whenever he came in to check on me. Whether I was standing stark naked in the bathroom - door wide open, or sitting in a chair pumping, or standing in the middle of the room attempting to pull my pants on - not quiiiiiiiiite fitting (stupid me for thinking I could fit into those cute pajama pants I bought just for the hospital)– it was always something kind of inappropriate. He would laugh and I would say, "I'm sorry...I don't plan this." David said it was like I was a weird stalker always finding some "situation" to be in when he came in. Ha ha...no. It was just that I didn't care who saw what of me because I was sick and tired of those stupid green gowns and it was sooooooo hot and I was irritable unless I was naked. But anyways...Dr. Cutie Pie.

How about those mesh panties. If you're a woman and you've been in the hospital for a stay, chances are, you've experienced the mesh panties. How fabulous are those? Mom and I would sneak several a day into my bag to take back home with me. I'm pretty sure I didn't have to "sneak" them seeing as how they probably cost 1¢ (that's Option/Alt 4, for those of you who can never figure out how to get that blasted cent sign) to make. They were SO comfy. And very stylish. I ran out...so, it's normal undies for me again. I miss the mesh.

You can order all the food you want...any time of day. On the day after you have your baby/ies, they'll even bring you a strawberry and banana smoothie for an afternoon snack. Delicious. But DON'T YOU DARE try to order one again the next day. Because SHEILA will let you know right away that, "No. You only get a smoothie the day after your baby is born." And don't try to throw the "I had twins, I should get two" at her, because SHEILA ain't budging. But other than that, yay for ordering food!

The nurse call button. Push it. "Can I help you?" "Uh yes...we'd like someone to come get Piper Lee for the nursery now." "I'll get your nurse." Push it. "Can I help you?" "Can I order regular food from the dining room now? How much longer do I have to be on this clear liquid diet?" "I'll get your nurse." Push it. "Can I help you?" "I would like a million dollars." "I'll get your nurse." The nurse never came with the million dollars...but she usually brought drugs...and these fabulous, huge things of that chewy ice. That was pretty much as good as a million dollars, so I didn't complain.

All the juice and jello and graham crackers you could want. Amazing how simple foods can make you so happy.

For neat/clean freaks like me, knowing that my hospital room and bathroom were sanitary. My bed sheets were changed daily...new towels, gowns, blankets every day. So cozy.

The huge plasma TV. Not that we watched it a lot, but it was there...just smiling at me. Maybe that was the morphine...................

The remote controlled bed. THAT was fun to play with. Head up...legs up...head down...legs still up...legs down...head up just a little...now start over again. It was like a ride at Disney World. And I was in complete control.

I would say morphine drip...but I'm afraid y'all'd start thinking I was an addict.

Those green gowns. I mean...what is the point of them anyways. Might as well be wearing nothing. Or just wrap the patients in cellophane. Sure, they've got the ties in the back, but honestly...who has time to tie those. And they're not a good color on anybody.

All of the needles. They put a lot of needles in me. I was tired of that after awhile. The scab from my IV needle was pretty big. Although...I guess this one is kind of a like/dislike because that IV did give me the good drugs, so I won't complain too much.

The nurses checking my blood pressure and temperature EVERY 5 SECONDS. I wanted to say, "Can't you see that I'm alive!!?? Stop checking my vital signs. I'm breathing...leave me alone!" Blood pressure cuffs hurt.

Cankles. WHOA CANKLES. You guys should have seen my ankles and feet. HUH-larious. Not even normal. They went back down about 4 days after we got home from the hospital. I asked my mom if my calves and ankles had always been this skinny and gross. She assured me they had and that I just didn't recognize them because I hadn't seen my real legs in so long. (I have an issue with my calves...no matter what I do, I can't put on muscle there. True story. It's ridiculous.)

All the little wrist bands you have to wear. I mean, they look soooo cool and all, but they're just in the way. I'm not huge bracelet person. Not huge bracelets...but I'm just not big on bracelets. I like them, just not on me. So, having four wrist bands on for a week (I had to keep wearing Harper's ID band so they'd let me see her in the NICU), was a big deal for me. And oops, I took two of them off during my showers because they were easy to slip on and off (the other two were basically fused into my skin) and one of the nurses saw them and was like, "Ohhh...yeah, don't take these off or else they'll think you stole the babies." And I wanted to say, "Don't you come back here without that baby, H.I. Watch his fontanel, H.I. I love him soooooo oooo oooooo muuuuch." But, I resisted the urge and put my bracelets back on.

SHEILA in the cafeteria. Nazi food lady. No smoothie for you!

The fact you can't have water HOURS before a C-section. I was like, isn't our body 139% water?? Sheesh.

All in all, it was a good experience and now I can say I've had staples and internal stitches and needles all over the place and I have a cool war scar...that no one will ever see...except David, of course...tee hee...Stop it, Ruth!! That's the kind of thinking that got us into this mess.

But, I'm glad everyone is home safe and sound. Sleeping peacefully...please stay peaceful, little girls...so quiet...and peaceful...and quiet......

We went to the pediatrician again on Friday for another weight check. So...how about this...he said, for the girls' age, he would have been happy if they had gained 3-5 ounces in a week, right. Most babies gain about 7 ounces in a week at this stage. Well, my "little" premature twins have gained 15 ounces (Harper) and 14.5 ounces (Piper Lee). They're now 7 pounds 8 ounces (Harper) and 7 pounds 3 ounces (PL). What the what?! I know, right. Even the doctor was shocked and kind of laughed. I freaked out and said, "Oh my gosh, I'm making my babies HUGE!" And he reassured me and said it was great news and he was very happy with their weight gain...he was just surprised I had been able to produce enough milk. And once again, we get into the "Ruth is a cow" conversation. He just said it wasn't common for a first-time mom to produce that much...and then he jokingly asked if I had a secret baby years ago that I was hiding from the world. That was...funny...and weird. We all got a good, awkward laugh out of that. Ha Ha...Ruthie's secret love child...ha...funny.

Then, the worst thing EVER...they did those heel sticks. I bit straight through my tongue to keep from crying when the lady stabbed the dagger of sorrow into my sweet, innocent babies' perfect little heels and then squeezed all of the blood out of their bodies onto this STUPID piece of paper with these STUPID HUGE circles that had to be filled with their precious baby blood. (That sounds morbid...baby blood...) Anyways...they quieted down soon after when we gave them some chocolate cake. Juuuust kidding...by chocolate cake, I meant bottle. What an ordeal. Thankfully, we don't have to go back again until mid-February.

My mom headed back home on Thursday and David's mom came up and has been with us. So, the girls have gotten spoiled by both grandmas and they are loving it. David's mom is heading back home tomorrow and my mom is coming back up to stay with us some more–she asked how long I wanted her to stay...I'm trying to break the term "forever" to her in the most gentle way possible–so I've been very very very thankful for the help. Could not do this by myself. This past Friday, I was able to go to my girls' supper club at Malinda's house for a fabulous supper and a DVR'd Project Runway. It was wonderful! It felt so good to hug my gal pals' necks and hang out and be a girlie girl for a little bit.

Anyways. About time to feed the gremlins...again. The vet said to not let them get hungry...you wouldn't like them when they're hungry. Yes, I said vet. I really think my kids are half grizzly bear. You should hear them eating. Rawwwr rarrrrrra raggh rarrrrgh rarrrrrrrrrrrrrgh....MOOOOORE!

I'll write another post later about the girls' nicknames...
Piper Lee - Houdini
Harper - Mighty Mo

These kids are ridiculous.

Alrighty Mom, calm down...here are some pictures.

"Can I have a little chocolate? Just a little bit...just a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittle bit. Tiny little bit. That's all. Just a smidge."

Finally, I can get some rest. You guys keep me up all night. I'm exhausted. Keep it down, okay.

Yawn. Booooring. Next performance, please.

Hey heeeeeeey...Fat Joey...how's it goin'? D'you see Louie this aftahnoon? Lookin' good, lookin' good. O. Kay. You tell Blue Eyes he bettah watch his back.

I'm pretending to sleep. I'm asleep. See? Eyes closed.

I don't know what's going on...I don't know if I'm pooping or not. You tell me.

Droooooool... (do you see that spot on her hand? That's where that silly IV was in the NICU...poor thing. :( )

Trying....to...sleep...no more pictures....

Don't think I don't know what you're doing over there.

I grew up on the streets. Stick with me, kid...I'll show you the ropes.

My, what big eyes you have.
All the better to steal your soul with.

Whaaat? What's at my head? What is that? Ducks?! Noooooo, not ducks!

Oh...whew...relief. Just sister's feet.

Wonder Twins...Powers, ACTIVATE!

Harper: She's in my space...she's really smothering me. Moooom...she's in my space. Tell her. No, you tell her. We drew a line...she's on my side of the line.

Piper Lee: (Snicker, sicker)...I just left you a present on your side of the line...sister.

Aaaaaaaaah, PIPER LEE! HONESTLY! What did you eat??

We're not talking right now.