Six Months

Yesterday, Mom and I loaded up the twinners and headed to see Dr. Reminds for their 6-month check-up. I think they read my blog yesterday, because we only waited maybe 20 minutes before he came in. Well, first, Overly Friendly Nurse came in and weighed the girls. I was a tad off with my guesstimation of their weight.

Piper Lee

Weight - 18 lbs. 1 oz. (80%)

Length - 27" (90%)

Head - 17.75" (97%)

Harper

Weight - 18 lbs. 11 oz. (90%)

Length - 27.75" (97%)

Head - 17.5" (90%)

So much for premature twins. I was told that twins were almost always born underweight just because they're usually born early and because there's not enough room to grow. And then, of course, premature babies are usually born smaller. So, silly me had this grand idea of how their first year would be. "We'll be able to use their car seats for a long time and not have to buy bigger ones for awhile." "We'll be able to keep them in the same crib for a year probably." "I should totally buy these adorable preemie onesies because we'll definitely need them." Yeah, we donated those to the NICU the day after they were born. The twins never saw the preemie onesies.

But, I couldn't be happier. I wouldn't care if I had to knock down a wall so they could fit through...I have healthy, happy, thriving giants and I am so thankful for that. (And thankful they didn't go full term.)

Dr. Reminds told us that a baby's weight and height doesn't necessarily have a correlation with their adult weight and height. (If it did, then my cousin Jacob would be 7' 2" right now...but instead, he's so sweet and teeny tiny, you could just carry him around in your pocket. Little cutie pie Jakey.) So, although the girls are huge right now, they could stop growing at 10 years old, so who knows how big they'll be. I was a HUGE baby. You should have seen my legs. I was born at 8 lbs. 3.5 oz. I went through my baby book to see how much I weighed when I was 6 months old to compare it to the twins. And they've already surpassed my weight. They were born smaller, but have caught up to and passed my weight. But still, I was pretty big, and I stopped growing when I was about 11...at my formidable 5' 3" status. So, we could have Amazons, we could have Hobbits. We'll see. Right now, they're linebackers.

He asked how much they were eating at each "meal" and I said "Well, when we give them solids, they have 2 oz. of food and 6 oz. of a bottle. Then, if it's just a bottle meal, they want about 8-9 oz." and he laughed and I said, "Is that too much?" And he said, "Oh, heavens no. I'm laughing because they're premature (airquotes). Feed them as much as they want. You can't feed a baby too much right now. They'll tell you when they're done eating...if they want more, give it to them." And then he added, "You're doing a great job. They're doing wonderfully." *BEAM* Gold star for Ruth. Yay! It was one of those I knew I was doing the right thing, but it's nice to have confirmation from an expert moments. But I was just so happy to hear how good the girls were developing.

They have the best little personalities. They smile and laugh ALL the time. They're so sweet. They love being held and just looking up at you and touching your face. They love to put their hands all in my hair. They love to talk and talk and squeal and screech. I can barely change their diapers, they move around so much. They are never still. Oh gosh, I love them. They're so awesome.

Piper Lee talked the entire time. We would have to stop for her to finish her rant so we could hear what each other was saying. She's super sassy. She does not get that from me...seeing as how I'm a little lamb.

Dr. Reminds said we could start them on stage 2 foods. I'm thinking, "I wonder if shrimp gumbo is a stage 2 food." He said if we were having dinner and what we were eating looked like the same consistency as a stage 2 food, we could give it to them. Like, mashed potatoes, for instance. So, now I'm trying to figure out the best way to blend up Lucky Charms, bagels and cream cheese, and Toblerone bars so these gals can share in the goodness.

Harper was MESMERIZED with the paper on the exam table. I think I know what Santa is bringing this little girl for Christmas. Ha, what if that's really what I got my kid...some medical paper. Maybe if it had a print on it...like stars or trees or something.

I LOVE PAPER!!!!!!!!

Hey, what's going on? Paper? What paper?

I WANT SOME, TOO!!!!!!!!!!!

On a scale of 1-5, Doctor, I'm feeling a little 2ish today.

Hey, Pipes. What's goin' on?

Waiting for my shots.

Yep. Shots. Wait, what?

The quickest way to get a laugh from PL.

Who's that pretty girl in that mirror there?

Hey Harps...how's it going?

Meh. Bored.

But this pacifier sure looks delicious.

Nom nom nom fried chicken and collard greens.

Sup.

Hello, Jacques the Peacock.

I was going to get pictures of the tray of shots that Shot Nurse brought, but she was like rush rush rush let's hurt the babies, so I didn't have a chance. Oh, I hate shots. It's the most pitiful thing. They're laying there so happy, so trusting and then OUCH...heeeey, what was that foraaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...it's awful. But I know it's what's best for them. And they don't remember it soon after anyways. But still. I don't have to like it.

Post shot pictures.

I not so happy now.

Tylenol sleep.

Mom and I went to a fab little burger joint afterwards. I haven't had a hamburger in I don't know how long, so this sucker was amazing.

Tropical salsa and chips.

Mom had sweet potato fries...blegh. I took this picture for you, Beth.

It's S-H-O-T-S Day

Boooo...we don't like S-H-O-T-S day. We spell it out around the girls because they're learning certain words. Like, when we say TREAT, they wiggle their little tails...and when we say PLAY DEAD, they roll over on their ba---wait, no, that's not right. But today is their 6-month check-up with Dr. Reminds. I'm very interested to see how much the gals weigh and how tall they are. They've started slimming down, but they weigh about as much as a cinder block, so...I guess they're getting taller. Their feet hang out of their car seats, swings, bouncers, etc. They're not little babies anymore...ha, how many times a day do moms around the world say that.

Они нет маленьких младенцев больше. No son pequeños bebés más. Non saranno piccoli bambini più. Ils ne sont plus de petits bébés. Sie sind nicht kleine babys mehr.

Yes, I am very fluent in Googling translators.

But seriously, those suckers grow up fast. I'm guessing they weigh about 17ish pounds each. I don't know how many shots they get today, but we've got the baby Tylenol ready to go. Do babies go back in for a 9-month appointment? Or just the 1-year appointment? It'd be awesome if we could not have to go back for another 6 months. Don't get me wrong, our pediatrician is fantastic. We LOVE him. But, they're always super busy and the wait is foooreevvveeerrrr....we always take snacks with us, catch a few zzzzzz's on the creepy examining table, play games like Perquacky and Rummy with the girls. I'll try to get some pictures today. There's a chart on the back of the doors that I don't quite understand...it's a scale that ranks a child's pain based on facial expressions. Whaaaaat? Because, as we all know, every child makes the same face when they're feeling a 4. I dunno...maybe it's a joke.

I'll let you know how fat they are tomorrow!

As I've said before, the girls hate car rides. The first two hours, they do great. The last however long, one of us sits in the back between them and dances and juggles and sings to them to keep them entertained. Here is David singing the girls' favorite song...in case you don't know the words, I've included the lyrics:

Ooooooohhhhhhhh, the Piper and the Harper should be friends. (yee haw)

Oh, the Piper and the Harper should be friends. (yee haw)

One of 'em likes to push a plow, the other 'un likes to chase a cow.

But that's no reason why they can't be friends. (repeat)

Mondays...boo...

Why is there such a day as Monday? Who came up with Mondays? Was it the Mayans? Ugh.

So, Saturday, Mom and I came back home. It's good to be in my own bed. I have the most comfy pillow and mattress. And the most comfy man. I surely missed him. I'm also a little bit sad because, although Mom is staying with me until Thursday morning, after that...I'm on my own for forever. Or, what seems like forever. This will be the longest I've been without help since the girls were born. I'll be by myself all of July and half of August. Which probably doesn't seem like a huge deal. But working 45+ hours a week, doing all of the housework, and taking care of twins from 6 a.m. until 6:45 p.m. is a tad bit overwhelming. David works 50+ hours a week and God bless him, he helps me so much when he's here and on the weekends and lets me take a break, but he can't be here during the week...so, I'm very thankful when I do have help. Mom is going on a two-week trip out West with my grandparents and Peter. Being almost 4 hours away makes it hard to drive down for just a few days, so I'll just be praying hard. And the girls really are perfect. I couldn't ask for more wonderful babies. If it weren't for them, David and my Mom...this blog would be titled "Dispatches from the Crazy House."

Back when we found out we were pregnant, one of the first things I bought was a Beaba Babycook baby food maker. I thought, "Shoot, I'm going to save as much money as I can and make their baby food. This will be EASY!" So, the gals arrive, I can't wait for them to be able to eat solids and then, we start making their food. And....THEY HATE IT. So, we make batches of the same stuff, thinking "Maybe the veggies weren't that good." We make batches of new stuff...THEY HATE IT. I taste it...tastes wonderful. THEY HATE IT. And it's not like they just won't eat it very well...no, they gag and throw up. You would think they were on Fear Factor and I was feeding them puréed earthworms. It's one of the funniest things. We've tried adding apple juice. We've tried mixing things together. Nothing works. So, we gave up. The twins win. Jarred food it is. Now, we have a lifetime supply of frozen squares of puréed carrots and sweet potatoes...no worries, David's making us muffins with the leftovers. I'm saving the Beaba for Sara in case she fares better with her childrenses. I think we might try some fruits with it, though. We've let them suck on melon and watermelon and blueberries (chill out, we held it with our fingers while they licked it) and they loved it, so I think homemade fruit will still be fine. We tried carrots and sweet potatoes yesterday and they gagged all over the place...as soon as I broke out the jarred sweet potatoes, you would have thought it was me eating chocolate. And it's not one of those, "Keep trying, they'll eventually like it" situations. I've tried. They don't like it. I like it. But, I can't make them eat food until they're like 2 or something and then it's "You're not getting up from that table until you have a happy plate." But until then, those angels get whatever they want.

Yesterday, David and I were going to go on an impromptu date to see Toy Story 3. We fed the girls, put them down for the night and Mom was like, "Y'all head out!" We drive out of the neighborhood and I realize how late we'll be getting back home and I knew it'd be Monday the next day, so I said, "Let's go back home and watch House instead." We stopped by Walgreens and picked up some Toblerone bars (one for me, one for Mom...Mom, they're hanging on the pantry door, btw) and when we drove up to the house, I pulled out my Flip and went to the back door. One of the greatest things in the world is scaring Mom. We all do it. She scares very easily. That's where I get it from. I mean...no...I don't scare easily. I'm very brave and I will punch you if you try to scare me.

So...here's what I do...

Oh, that crazy lady.

Edit: I just watched the video on the post itself and the part where she freaks out and grabs her chest doesn't show up very well because of the resolution. Just know that her face was hilarious.

Dr. Rattlesnake

There are a lot of snakes around my parents' house. Growing up, the most common phrase we heard, after "SARARUTHNOAHPETER...WHOEVER YOU ARE...inside, NOW!" and "Alright, who did it?!" and "I will pull this car over RIGHT now!", was "Watch out for snakes." We didn't have cable, we didn't have video games (except our Nintendo...which Peter ultimately destroyed by chewing through the controller cables), we didn't really have a lot of indoor stuff (except for mine and Sara's Barbies and Noah and Peter's G.I. Joes...which all ended up outside in the dirt eventually...you can't have doll wars inside, duh), so we played outside most of the time. Which, I think most kids should be doing nowadays instead of sitting around watching TV, but that's none of my business (whistle whistle...looking away nonchalantly).

We were always on the lookout for snakes. Amazingly, none of us (knock on wood) have ever been bitten. We've run across the pretty green grass snakes, oak snakes, water moccasins/cottonmouths, rattlesnakes, king snakes, you name it...well, no boa constrictors or anything like that. During the Summer, they liked to hid in the cool shade under the pool floats that were draped over the railing and, on many occasions, I reached under to pick up a float and brushed a snake. Like Steve Irwin always said, they're more afraid of you than you are of them. Oh, Steve. They usually give you a dirty look and go on about their business. I used to do my schoolwork (have I ever told y'all I was homeschooled?) downstairs in the Man Cave and one day, I walked up and down the stairs a million times. On one trip up, I spotted a coiled oak snake in the corner of one of the stairs. Why he never struck me, I don't know. I'm pretty sure that God assigns the most insane and fierce guardian angels to people that live in the woods.

There are a lot of wildlife and insect noises that constantly fill the air here...but you can always tell when there's a rattlesnake nearby. The sound is very distinct. I mean, well, yeah. It's like rattle rattle rattle imma gonna git you. Usually, we leave the snakes alone. They catch the mice. However, rattlesnakes are a different story. We're not going to chance them slithering off (igggh even the word "slither" is creepy) and showing back up another day to bite one of us...or worse, a kid. And yeah, there's anti-venom, but it would take a good little drive to get to the hospital or for the ambulance to get out here.

On Wednesday, I was sitting here working away...the girls were playing...Mom was doing something in the kitchen. Peter was carrying off a watermelon rind to dump into the woods. I hear the screen door swing wide open and the Never Dramatic Peter, she said sarcastically, comes barging into the house yelling something about "A DINOSAUR IN THE FRONT YARD!" He wasn't quite THAT dramatic, but you guys have to get Peter tell you a story sometime...he's like Darby O'Gill. Anyways. I just had this vision of a python sunning in the peonies. I laughed it off and got back to work. Mom goes outside to inspect, however. Then, she calls me on her cell phone and says I have GOT to come see this rattlesnake outside. So, of course I hopped up, made sure the girls were good, and headed outside. Mom had left the fridge door open, so I shut it (I mention that in the video, so I wanted y'all to know what the random "I shut it" comment was about). As soon as I step outside onto the porch, I hear the rattle. Oooh, it's an eerie sound. Now, he wasn't a dinosaur, but he was a pretty big fat rattlesnake. His head was about the size of, hmmmm I'd say a clementine orange. Ha, I honestly can't think of any other object to compare it to. Bigger than an egg...smaller than a baseball...I dunno. It was fairly big.

Please forgive my ridiculous commentary. My voice still hasn't gone back to normal since I was pregnant. Stupid hormones. So, I basically sound like a raspy blues singer who smokes 3 packs a day. And I get all excited when there are snakes and guns involved. The drama. Who knows what's gonna happen.

In case my dazzling cinematography skills blow your mind, here is a rundown...

I run outside and say dumb stuff, like "O-M-Gyaahhhh" because I'm 13 years old. We were all trying to keep the snake mad so he wouldn't leave...Mom makes weird noises like whoop whoop! boo boo! Gray Cat was insistent on suicide runs with the snake (he's the one that got it mad in the first place). Mom got Dad's .22 rifle. Peter wanted to shoot it so bad. They argue for a little bit. Mom wanted Papaw or Dad to shoot it. Papaw showed up with his shotgun, then Mom decided she wanted Dad to shoot it because well, it's Papaw and he does stuff like this. Papaw took a break from the wrangling to eat some blueberries. Mom's in hysterics the whole time. Dad came home from work and shot it. I scream. We all approach the dead snake and try to determine where his head was. We all try to scare each other. Mom says inappropriate things to Dad in the background. Peter scares Mom. Peter messes with the body and eventually cuts his rattles off with a hedge clipper and they are now proudly displayed on the back porch with the other sets of rattles. Yep. That's my family...rednecks. At least we don't fight over who gets to hang the squirrel tail Christmas ornament on the tree each year...........................................................................

Here you go.

On A Walk

Here are some more pictures from one of my daily walks on Le Driveway.

Tomorrow (or possibly the next day), Dad wrangles a rattlesnack...and by wrangles, I mean he shot it. And I got it on video.

Yessssssssssssssssssssssssss.

Wicker deer inhabit the front garden...under the haint tree.

Half a rainbow.

The other half.

It's a gittin' dark. Scarecrows!!!!!
The turtle hole.
Blackberries.

Blackberries on the bush. Oddly enough, our goat, Blackberry, used to eat blackberries. Have I ever told y'all we used to have goats? Lots of them. They would eat blackberries. Subsequently, we named one of them Blackberry. She was black. And had an underbite.

Blueberries. We had a goat named Blueberry, too. She was also black. No underbite.
Another turtle hole. I like to think there are different turtle families. Like Italian mobster families. And they have territories. And mob wars along the driveway. I don't know how turtles fight. I think they just butt shells......and chomp.......chomp........hissss...take that, other turtle.

Ole Crooked Magee down the road put up this fence.
The parents. See, Mom, your shirt isn't inappropriate from a distance. I didn't have to censor it.
But, I will if you want me to. There, that looks much better.

The sky.

The unabridged story of Flea and Gray Cat.

The End.

Monster Babies 3: Battle of the Momma Beast & Baby Beast

Post-Off

It's like Face/Off the movie, but better. That's a good movie. Face...off...oh, Nicolas Cage, you.

I'll post soon about our fabulous Father's Day weekend, but first things first.

Jamee challenged me to a blog post-off this Summer.............I accept, Jameeroo. You're going down. Downtown. Down...to the...grocery store...to get some diapers for Lillian and maybe some ingredients for supper toni--okay, so it's obvious that I'm not the best with smack talk, but I make up for it with sheer awesome power. And since today is the first day of Summer, here goes...

Hey, look what's in the bowl...

MORE BUTTER CUPS! They're smaller, but just as effective.

A leaf.

The sun.

Mom and Dad have a new stray cat that eats Flea's food. He's gray. I've named him Gray Cat.

Two baby foxen (heh) and one foxy mama have made their home under the pool deck. They play on the pool cover and chase butterflies. Katie Christmas, I got some video of the mom this morning.

Tomorrow, more Monster Babies.

Bring it, Jamee!