Today, Piper Lee laughed a real laugh on purpose. A little baby cackle. Apparently, me telling Mom how I woke David up in the middle of the night insisting he was holding one of the girls and that he needed to go put her back in her crib immediately (it was just his body pillow he was holding, and I'm a moron), is funny enough to get a three month old to laugh. Best. Noise. Ever. Oh my gosh, I was ROLLING. I had tears in my eyes, it was the funniest thing. So sweet and innocent and pure delight. It was like a baby Santa Claus. Her little belly poked out and she bounced up and down each time she giggled. I waved my arms around and made a fool of myself trying to get her to do it again and again, but she just gave me wide open smiles. Oh, so sweet. I can't wait for it to happen again. Harper just sat there and was like, "Huh...sister...idiot." Ah, fun times. I wrote it down in her baby book...March 31, 2010, you laughed for real for the first time and made Momma's heart smile so big.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Sorry for the lack of blog posting recently. Been a little crazy. By that, I mean it's been busy...not that I've actually been crazy. Well, no, that's not true either. Anyways. I promise I'll write a real post soon. Until then, go and read through some of the older ones. Regurgitate them. That word sounds as disgusting as the event it's describing.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
As many of you know, David is an accountant and, for the past 3 years, has been preparing to take the CPA exam. He graduated with the first and only Telecommunications Business Management and Finance degree from our alma mater...being the first and only because of difficulty. He was the only student ever to graduate with that degree. After he graduated, they got rid of the program because it was too hard. (I have to brag a little...I'm so proud of him). About two years after we were married, and working in jobs that he wasn't 100% satisfied with, he decided to go back to school to get his accounting degree. So, for two years, he worked full-time and went to school at night to accomplish this. It was sheer misery. I hated it. He worked with a tax accounting firm two years...and anyone who is related to or friends with a tax accountant knows how not fun January 15-April 15 is. So, not only did he work 60-75 hours per week during that time, he went to night school. Yeah, didn't see much of him. He finally finished school, yay!, and began preparing for the CPA exam. It was pretty much like he was in tax season again. He studied on his lunch break. He studied every night as soon as he came home. He studied on the weekends. Boo.
Anyone who is related to or friends with knows how tough the CPA exam is. There are four parts to the exam and you have to pass all four parts. You have a year and a half to do it once you pass one of the sections. Well, of all times, David took the first section in January...two weeks after the babies were born. After waiting for an eternity, he finally got his score in...HE PASSED!! He told me whenever the letter came, to open it for him because he didn't want to do it. So, when I checked the mail about two weeks ago, I noticed a letter from The Certified Public Accounting Something Something, I ran inside. I held the letter in my hand and prayed over it. I knew God had given him the knowledge and ability to pass the test...I just knew he had passed it. I ripped it open and saw those big fat letters...PASS. And lower down, CREDIT RECEIVED for that particular section...The Business Something Something. I was half expecting confetti or some mini balloons to be in that envelope somewhere, seeing as how this was a huge deal. I did a fabulous little dance and called Mom on her cell phone because she was out in the neighborhood on her daily walk and told her. We tried to figure out a way to surprise him with the news. And I said, "I wish I could write on the girls somewhere that he passed without it being child abuse." And we thought and then I said, "Wait! We can't write on them, but we can write on diapers." So, I grabbed a Sharpie and Harper and this is what we did...
Yes, I use my children for my own amusement.
When he got home, we asked him to change her diaper, which he thought was weird because we were both completely unoccupied and equipped with our own two hands. But, nevertheless, being the sweetie that he is, he changed her. Well, Harper and Piper Lee have put on some poundage...mostly in their legs. So, her sweet chubby rolls covered up the "P" and the "ED" which is why I got this face from him...
He asked warily, "What does this say?"
I said, "What do you think it says?"
"Well, I'm hoping it doesn't say what I think it says."
I walked over and realized why he was puzzled. This is what he saw.
I quickly corrected that and said, "No! No! It says 'You Passed!'"
He asked, "Oooooooooooh.....wait, passed what?"
"The only thing you've been waiting to see if you passed, dummy."
It was a pretty funny moment. Needless to say, he was very happy. One down. Three to go. Next test...May 6.
In other news...
Sucking in while standing on the scale doesn't make you weigh less.
The Baby Einstein Neptune Adventure octopus is, according to Harper, THE. FUNNIEST. THING. EVER. I don't know what it is about it, but by golly, that thing is funny. Its tentacles, its rattle, its big eyes and smile, its turquoise blue hue...huh-flipping-larious.
All hospital bills have been received and paid. We now officially own our children. Kids are 'spensive.
The girls are three months old today. Can't believe it. Has it gotten any easier? No. But, I will say, their bedtime routine is fabulous and I couldn't be more grateful. From 5:00 pm until 9:00 pm, it's complete and utter h - e - double hockey sticks. They hate that time of day. I now hate that time of day. We take turns eating our supper (should now be an Olympic sport called speed-eating), taking our baths, and bathing them (if it's bath day) while the other exists in a state of brain meltation - that's where the extreme decibel level of two babies screaming at the same time actually turns your brain to pile of mooshy goo. At 9:00 pm, oh blessed hour of the day, we turn off the lights and LOAD them up on formula. I mean, load. them. up. Now, they drink it...we don't force it, but they're pretty much drunk by the time it's over. And then...they sleep. No coaxing, no soothing...they do it on their own. We swaddle the mess out of those boogers, too. Everything people told me to get them to sleep better, we do. Lights out. Rain machine. Swaddling. Drunk on milk. Done. And those suckers sleep. For about 5 hours and 30-45 minutes. I couldn't ask for anything more. We feed them again around 2:30-2:45 am and then, to the minute, they wake up at 6:00 am...ready for the day. That part has gotten easier. Getting them to sleep that easily has been such a blessing. Daytime is another story, but we're working on it. The three of us (me and the twins) are going to counseling together to work out our issues...they're not talking to me right now, but they at least wave their arms in my direction. I now have three full-time jobs...graphic designer (my regular 40 hour per week job), daycare worker, and Mom. Someone told me awhile back that no one really understands what you're going through until they've been through it themselves. Oh, how true. I didn't realize how difficult all of it was until I had a baby...babies. It's really tough. I have good days. I have bad days. I cry. I laugh. I laugh at myself crying. I envy David some days because he gets to leave and sit at a desk in peace and quiet...I don't remember what quiet is like. I'd rather take a nap than see a movie or go shopping. I haven't had a haircut since July. Yep. But, in the morning, when I go to get those chubby babies out of the crib...I say, "Good moooorniiiinngggggg, little chubbers!" they smile at me and laugh their little hacking laugh and squinch their nose and eyes in delight...oh my word, it steals my heart. I laugh hysterically when my 13-pound innocent and perfect baby girls burp and fart like grown men. Monday was the first day they actually noticed each other and smiled and talked during Tummy Time...it was amazing. When Piper Lee snores like David and when Harper smiles so big in her sleep, I could just watch them for hours. They have dimples on their knuckles and elbows and knees and butts and they have fat build-up on their toes...I mean, could there be anything more precious. All of that and sooo much more, just like my grandmothers told me, makes all the "bad" stuff (which ends up not being all that bad) just completely go away and I am so thankful that I get to stay home with the girls...crying, MASSIVE poop diapers, hurting back, and all. I'm so sleepy all the time, but I keep reminding myself that one day, when the girls are singing, dancing twin celebrities and are filthy rich...they'll build me a house on the beach and I can sleep then.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Happy St. Patrick's Day! Below is a real post...but since it's St. Paddy's Day, I HAD to say something. So, here goes...
And here's last year's post about my Irish ancestry...I'm recycling it. Lazy.
And Erin go Bragh! to Zack and Malinda, who are actually on their way to Ireland right now. Remember, guys, left side of the road...LEFT side. And there's a little man who sits on the corner of O'Connell street in Dublin and dances. DO NOT talk to him. He's a leprechaun and a jerk. And do NOT let the little liar sing "The Wishing Song" to you because you will fall asleep and he will take your wallet. Anyways. Have fun!
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
The bosom saga is complete. It's finished. No more. Relief. It started on May 7, 2009 and finished pretty much yesterday, March 15, 2010. I FINALLY feel like myself again. FIIINNNAAAALLLLYYYYYYYYYY. Men, be thankful. Be so very thankful. What women go through...whew...I'm telling you. So, you know the last time I talked to you, I was just starting the whole "Hey, I'll be a genius and quit breastfeeding cold turkey" drama. Yeah, about the third full day into that, I actually would have been okay if a zombie apocalypse had engulfed the world and a hoard of undead ravaged my house. I would have offered my brains willingly. Anything to end the misery. I would like to take this opportunity to rewrite my 2010 Most Painful Things I've Ever Experienced list...
1. Quitting breastfeeding cold turkey
2. Quitting breastfeeding cold turkey
3. Quitting breastfeeding cold turkey
4. Quitting breastfeeding cold turkey
5. Quitting breastfeeding cold turkey
Surgery gas, breastfeeeding in general, cow ant bite, tattoos...mere tickles, breaths of wind on your skin, if you will, compared to it. That third full day...that was a dark day in history. How did I cope? Let me tell you. I didn't move my upper body all day. I designed through tear-blurred eyes. I prayed ceaselessly. I took as many Motrin as was safe...riiiiiight on the edge of being an addict. At night, I rested on my back, covered in ice. I finally Googled, "How to not die from this pain..." Oddly enough, and I had heard it from several of my friends, one of the recommendations was using cabbage leaves on the ladies. Yeah, cabbage leaves. Straight off the head...straight from the ground. So, sweet sister Sara went to the store and got me some cabbage. My grandmother was with us that week and she asked, "What you want cabbage for? You making slaw?" Well, no, Mamaw, not exactly. I mean, we COULD, but you don't want to reuse this cabbage. We put that head of cabbage in the fridge for an hour and then...I did it...I donned two cabbage leaves proudly under my 48 GGG sports bra. World of worlds, how great did that feel. It was amazing. A little unnerving. I smelled like soup, but it was worth it. It definitely helped. Old wives' tale or not...wear those cabbage leaves proudly, girls...become the jungle woman...it works. For a week and a half, I did this. After that, I slowly started feeling better. And I'd say, today, I'm back to about 99%. I started this whole process at a nearly A. Yes, I was a little boy. And now I'm a very happy B, ah thank you very much.
According to our Wii, who is kind of a jerk, I have 7.5 pounds left to lose to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight. Those 7.5 pounds are tough, let me tell you. I was doing sooooo good and then out of nowhere, I ate the whole pan of Mrs. Micki's brownies. SO WORTH IT. I don't even care. I'd do it again, too...right now.
The girls will be three months next week. I can't even believe it. They're basically teenagers now...except they don't sleep as long. HOWEVER, they DID happen to sleep for 5 hours and 50 minutes last night. YES oh yes. I was completely shocked. A lot of people told me that when they slept for a long time the first time that I would wake up and freak out, like, "Oh no, are they okay?!" Not me. Whimpering woke me up, I checked my phone, sat up and said, "FINALLY!" And then got up to feed them. See, they're 11 weeks old and all of you (falsificators) out there kept telling me, "Oh, they'll be sleeping 12 hours at 3 weeks. Blah de blah." So, I've been waiting for it. It's not exactly all night, but it's definitely a victory. Hopefully it wasn't a fluke.
Speaking of victories, Mom and I were discussing how degraded your life becomes when you're in the torturous first few weeks of a baby's life. Not degraded in a bad way, but how simple it becomes, I guess I should say. For instance, it's amazing how happy you are when a baby burps really good after they've been squirming for several minutes trying to get it out. Or when they poop a "good poop" after they've been obviously working on it for a half hour. Or when they sleep almost 6 hours straight after they've been sleeping about 3-4 hours for the past 3 months. Or how going out to Target for an hour with your husband is in the top three dates of your relationship. Or how much funnier America's Funniest Home Videos is now, seeing as how that's the only thing you have time to watch and you have to watch it while you're speed-eating during supper because your twins could wake up any second. It's the little things. And it's a good life. I wouldn't trade it for anything.
The girls stay awake so much more now. They smile so much...cutest thing ever. They talk to us. They love their play mats. They interact with (punch) each other...in a I'm-a-baby-and-I-don't-know-what-I'm-doing kind of way. They definitely have different personalities. They pitch some FIIIITS. Fits fits fits. Whew. I've said from day one, and I don't care what who says, that babies can be spoiled from the moment they take their first breath. And both of mine started out that way and I didn't even do it. If you don't believe me, come spend an hour with mine. If they're not spoiled, then they both have some kind of condition in which it is physically painful and death-inducing to not be held or walked around by someone. So...we're working on that. Piper Lee and I had a stand-off the other night. Dr. Reminds (our pedatrician...I'll call him Dr. Reminds because he reminds me of someone, but I can't figure out who) said we could let them cry and pitch their fits at three months. Not that we'll let them cry for hours or anything, but just let them know we're here and not going anywhere, but it's okay to fall asleep on your own. So, I'm sitting in the chair, holding PL, and she's fussy and bossy and demanding. And I could tell she wanted to be walked around. But, my back was hurting from already doing that all day, so I refused to get up and I told her that. Well, sho nuff, she settled down. MWAAH HA HAAAA...I win. But alas, 5 minutes later, she proved she was more stubborn than me. Me and my ears couldn't take it anymore and I stood up...5 seconds later, out like a log. I gave in and I was ashamed. Score so far...Piper Lee - 1, Ruth - 0. I whispered in her ear as she drifted off into Babydreamland, "You may have won the battle, but you have not won the war, gremlin. Sleep soundly, for I devise new plans of attack."
Speaking of crying, when my dad was about a year and a half old, he was a bit of a fit-pitcher, too. Must run in the family. He would fit such pits (haha...that's hard to say...I'll just leave it), that he would hold his breath and pass out. One day when he did that, my grandmother ran some cold water over his head and it made him catch his breath...he never pitched another fit. So, when my other grandmother, Mom's mom, was here with us, we were joking about that story. SOMEHOW, she thought that we meant to do that to the girls. So, when she got home, she told my mom that Sara and I were going to hold the girls' heads under water when they cried. Mom called me and told me, laughing. Then Papaw G calls and tells me I better not hold their heads underwater...thinking what Mamaw G said was true. Well, God love her, Mamaw...ridiculous. Dear DHR, we are not going to hold my childrens' heads underwater to make them stop crying. Mamaw G, quit telling people that. Oh, and Dean's Cakes has a new flavor...you should try it.
Well, last week, David came home with sniffles. I asked if he was sick. He said, "No...it's my allergies. I always get it this time of year...remember?" Huh...I've known you for 11 years and no, I don't remember you getting allergies. Weird. Well, his allergies turned into a little coughing and sneezing and that was it. Lo and behold, a day later, Mom gets a scratchy throat, sneezing and runny nose. Loads up on Benadryl. Lo and behold, now I have a scratchy throat, sneezing and runny nose. Thank you, David's "allergies." I've been avoiding kissing the girls, which is hard, washing my hands non-stop, and drowning myself in Airborne and vitamin C. I'm afraid I'm going to poop out an orange soon.
Back on birth control. Wicka wicka what! I've never been more happy to take a pill every day. Pregnancy and postpartum hormones are lame. I'm also back on cookie dough, cake batter, sugar, seafood, and deli meats. The girls are on formula and loving it. Like I told Tris yesterday, they would drink month-old turkey brine out of the bottle if I gave it to them. I'm worried about their future self-control with food. Ha, like I can talk. BROWNIES!
Here are Pipsqueak and Harper Mo at 2 months...
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
QUOTE OF THE DAY:
Mamaw G, sitting on the couch reading a magazine:
This J. Crew magazine is filled with the dumpiest clothes I've ever seen. They look like old sacks with buttons sewn on, then trampled through the dirt, then put on a model with the price jacked up to beyond believable. Why anyone would want to buy these clothes is beyond me.
Ruth, sheepishly looking down, head hung low, a little pouty...after just finishing dog-earring the pages of the clothes in that same magazine she was so excited about ordering:
Yeah...old sacks. Crazy.
On an abandoned, rural road...you can find yourself...find peace, find solace...go there, and embrace your destiny.
Zip it with your new age mumbo jumbo and push...slacker.
Bored. Just me and my block head...all alone. Sigh.
What IS the meaning of life?
La la la la laaaaaaa...ahem...ahhheeeemm...red leather yellow leather...ahheeem...la la laaaa...
Okay. I'm ready now. Give me an A flat.
Madame Zirinka say I see many many things in your future. Let me see your hand...AH! Take it away! I cannot look. This does not bode well for you...I must consult my crystal pacifi...uhm, ball.
Bring me Solo and the Wookiee. They will all suffer for this outrage.
From the depths of the earth crawls forth the undead...
Mangled limbs reaching toward the living...
Grasping at any chance to pull them down down DOWN into the worm-infested pits of...
What? Geez, Mom. She asked for a ghost story.
Glow Worms...the 2010 edition.
You messed with Gravy Louise one too many times, kid.
I'll show you what we do with messers. Look at me...look at me...
Yeeeah heaaa...that's right...
Eat this knuckle sandwich I made just for you...no pickles, the way you like it!
What? You want some, too?! I think I have some leftover bread! Bring it...BRING IT!
Spare some change, sir?
Well, what do you expect me to do with it?
Rawwwwwwrrrrrr...the snow beast emerges from its hibernation...unleashing a path of fury and destruction upon mortal man.
Ah, the sunlight! My vampire ways cannot bear the brilliance of day! My skin...ashes...oh, darkness, where art thou?