Two Months

QUOTE OF THE DAY:

Mamaw G: Whew...those pants are tight on that woman.

Papaw G: That's like fitting two tons of lard in a one ton sack.

Well, the munchkins turned two months old on Wednesday. Two months old. What the mess. Where has the time gone? They told me this would happen. I'm okay with it, though, because I hate this time of winter and really, the time with the girls hasn't passed by that quickly...so I don't feel like they're growing up too fast. I feel like they're getting fatter by the second, but they're still sweet little babies and I can remember every single second with them. Every single second...at 3:oo a.m...sometimes 2:00 a.m. Sometimes both 2:00 a.m. and 3:00 a.m...sometimes all night long...usually all. night. long. But that's okay, because it's worth it and I wouldn't trade that time for anything. Weeeeell...................................nah, I wouldn't trade it.

Our time in the Deep South has come to an end. We'll be heading to the slightly Norther (Norther?...more North?) Deep South in the morning (Saturday), along with Mamaw G, who will be staying with us and helping us this next week. Woo hooooooo for help! I'm sad to be leaving, but I'm so excited to get home and see my sweet baby Hugsy Bear! This is the longest we've been apart since we've been married. He came to see us over the weekend, but still... I miss his cuddly wuddlyness at night. He's a good snuggler. And at night, my parents' house is the SCARIEST PLACE ON EARTH. They live in the middle of the woods...far away from any neighbors (except my grandparents, but they're pretty scary at night, too). And it's really dark here. And so when it was my turn to sleep in the play room near the girls during the night shift...it's not really all that fun. You know how I feel about monsters...especially werewolves. And I mean, this log cabin in the middle of the woods is the perfect place to spawn images of faces appearing in windows and shadows of something tall and hairy skulking behind the couch...(like, right now, I feel like something is touching my legs under the desk...). So, I would slowly migrate towards the love seat closer to the girls' travel crib. Because, as we all know, two month old twins are ninja fighters and could protect me, so I needed to be near them. Yes, I'm 27 and still afraid of monsters. Shut up.

Since we've been down here, we've had a lot of visitors. Aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, great-grandparents, friends, random strangers, the likes. What's funny is that all of those people thought they were coming of their own accord to visit the twins. But in reality, we lured them here with stories of cuteness and cudliness and promises of baby smiles and songs and dances so we could dump the girls in their arms and take naps. Mwaaaah MUUWAAH HA HAAA ha ha haaaaaaaaa...I love it when my evil plans come to fruition...unfolding before me like a present on Christmas day...or any day of the year, because I love presents. Especially chocolate.

So...totally over breastfeeding. I'm done. I've decided. The time has come...the other set of twins has decided. What's sad is that I've been nursing a lot more lately and hey, it doesn't hurt any more. Yay! I made it! Ha, and now I'm finished with it. Here's the dealio...while I do enjoy the actual nursing part, the pumping part is incredibly time consuming...and time is a luxury that I don't have. Two babies, a full-time job, a sculpted new fanny that just won't quit...who's got the time to pump for 20 minutes 6 times a day? Even with the marvelous help I have, it's a lot. I just feel like all of the life is drained out of me...even if I do get some rest during the day, I'm just exhausted. I can't hug people and people need a proper hug. I hate the dead fish handshakes. I hate the dead fish hugs. I'm just constantly in a state of misery as far as the chestal area goes. Also, I'm constantly having to scrutinize every single thing I eat. I know that sounds selfish, but it's not really for me (maybe a little). Mainly it's because whenever they're extra fussy, I think...was it something I ate? And then I have to think about everything I ate that day and gosh, I don't know my own name sometimes, much less what I ate two minutes ago. All in all, I'm really proud of myself. I'm officially quitting next weekend...MAYBE the weekend after that. I'm not going cold turkey...doing it slowly. So, I will have made it two and a half months. BUT, I have enough stored milk to last another 2-3 weeks, so I'll make it to my three month goal of giving them breastmilk. And when you multiply by that times two...two babies...it's really six months. And REALLY, I'm very tired because of it, so when you think about it...it's been a year. Really...when you think about it. But like I said, I'm glad I did it and I'm looking forward to not doing it. And I'm looking forward to feeling 100% and being able to hold my girls without saying, "Mother of pearl, that hurts." We've been adding formula to their meals and they seem to be doing fine with it...whooooooweeeeee, their diapers have become toxic radioactive garbage, but I knew that was coming. I'm fine with it. EDIT: So, I've been writing this post over several days and as of Saturday, I'm trying to end the two month reign of misery known as breastfeeding/pumping. I read to "take it slowly" but we all know about the patience level of Ruth. So, I could do it fairly painlessly over several weeks or I could just bite the bullet and get it over with in a few days. So...I've basically been swallowing bullets whole. It's fabulous. I rewrite my Threshold of Pain chart every few years...this is my 2010 update:

Most Painful Things I've Ever Experienced

1. Surgery gas. This was the worst ever. I've never cried from pain before...well, except the time I was putting Seumas in his crate and stood up fast and nailed my head on the corner of the bar and then felt blood dripping down my forehead. Like in the movies. That was a bad morning. But, it didn't hurt so much as I was just fuming mad and my hair looked really cute that morning and I had to wear a hat the rest of the day. Surgery gas was awful. Don't get it.

2. Breastfeeding. Two little cuddly wuddly babies gnawing on you for what seems like an eternity. You can't do anything but sit there and take it because ohhhhh they need to eat. You love them, but you want to yell obscenities at them for what they're doing to you. But you love them, so you sit there and lovingly stroke their heads and whisper sweet nothings in their precious ears...tears of overwhelming pain sliding down your cheeks.

3. Getting bitten by a cow ant. Imagine having lighting striking you directly in the foot and feeling it slowly course up your leg...and then the pain dissipates and STRIKES AGAIN. LIGHTNING!!

4. Getting a tattoo. A lot of people say it's not that bad. I've said it's not that bad. It's really not that bad. That's only because you don't remember it. It's pretty bad.

5. Stopping breastfeeding. I couldn't find an appropriate picture for this one. I Googled "someone shooting multiple arrows through my chest" but nothing came up. Odd. Hopefully (please, God, please), this phase won't last long. I don't like having to cringe every time I pick one of the girls up to hold them. And also, this will free up some time for me. I barely have time to do my work and take care of the girls, much less eat or do anything else to keep myself alive...so, I need all the time I can get. So, if I see you over the next few days, I probably won't hug you. Just a high five.

So, there you have it. I've never been shot in the face...I've never broken a bone (except my tail bone...thanks, Sara)...but I feel pretty tough because of the pain I've experienced.

You probably wonder, with all the complaining I do about not having any time, why I don't put the girls in a day care...even for a few days a week. Well, I'll tell you. I had planned on doing that. But since the cheapest day care within a 10 miles radius of me is $550 a month...for ONE child...I thought, "Huh, I'll manage on my own, thank you very much." You wouldn't think taking care of kids would cost that much, but ohhhhh yes it does. Why is it that the smaller an item, the more expensive it is. Jewelry, small cars, truffles, children...so pricey.

The girls have become more and more active every day. They stay alert longer and nap less. Their eyes are HUGE. Their favorite thing is for Poppadoc to take them on what we like to call Light Walks. It's where you hold them upright over your shoulder...they'll push off and lean their heads waaaaaay back and look up at the lights as you walk. Apparently, the lights in my parents' house are the most beautiful lights ever created. They also love their Stim Mobile. It's these neato mobiles that have these geometric, bold-colored, weird cards that you can change out...supposed to stimulate their brain. I bought them because they were $20. Mom calls them their Pysch Mobiles, because it's the same kind of cards they use in the psych ward at the hospital. They've started talking. My grandmother calls it "gooing" even though we've repeatedly told her it was called "cooing." She won't accept that. They smile a lot when you talk to them, which is THE. SWEETEST. THING. EVER. They laugh in their sleep. They cause minor earthquakes when they poop. They're just a lot of fun. I gotta say, I have the cutest kids in the world. I really do. It's not a biased opinion...I know you think it is...but it's scientific fact. They also have block heads...like Charlie Brown. It's the only shaped head that would fit their gargantuan eyeballs. I could stare into their eyes forever. Oh so sweet. Also, we've determined they're mirror image identical twins. The whorls on their heads are on the opposite sides. Piper Lee's stork bite is on her right eye...Harper's is on her left. They sleep in a mirror image to each other. One talks forwards, the other talks backwards.

It's really sad when my two month old children have more of a tan than I do. Not that I'm a sun worshipper, but I usually have a LITTLE bit of color. I'm basically see-through now.

Just a quick, random bit of advertising...pumping is super duper boring, so while I was at my parents' house, I grabbed one of my mom's books, Same Kind of Different As Me, and started reading. FABULOUS. If you've never read this, you HAVE to. I couldn't put it down. I actually started looking forward to pumping. Not enough to keep doing it, but still. Good book. There's a sequel...once I finished Same Kind, I started on the second one, What Difference Do It Make. Seriously, read them.

A little shout-out to David's co-workers. Yay for numbers and money! You guys should ask him about the hyenas that call his name...they live outside the house...calling to him...haunting him.

Speaking of co-workers, I work with an amazing group of people and one day soon I'm going to introduce them to you guys.

My mom and sister recently let me know that the only thing I was good for was writing captions for the girls' pictures and they had enough of my rambling and wanted more pictures. Well, fine...so, next post I'll just put up pictures. Good thing Ruth was born or we wouldn't have captions, heaven forbid.

Prepare to hear the sweetest sound ever at 1:52. Also, please forgive the atrociousness that is my hair. I haven't fixed my hair in about two months, so...yeah.