It's Over.

Sigh.

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...