An Anniversary (of sorts)

On this day, at the end of my junior year in high school, just after I had turned 17 years old, I kissed my husband for the first time. I've been hooked ever since...

Grass Lickers

We went to the park today, where my boys have found a new solid to enjoy. Grass. I am a proud momma. :-) So, I leave you with just a little bit more cuteness.

Shawn (and yes that is his tongue)

Jason

Mmmm...Breakfast!

This was right after breakfast today (oatmeal and bananas). I'll let the pictures speak for themselves...




Somehow, the food finds its way all over and not just in their mouths. It is a little hard to tell in these pictures, but trust me when I say they are quite the mess. (Notice that the bibs are pretty clean, though!) It is a good thing that I am not a pitcher for a baseball team. It seems my aim is off just a little bit! :-)

Today is the boys' 8 month birthday! Time is just flying by!

What Happened to the Boys?

Tried to go take our first professional pictures yesterday. (Did you catch the word "tried"?) We left the house with everyone in good spirits. Babies were clean and shiny. Clothes were spotless. They were fed. They were rested. It should have been a good experience for all involved, right?

It wasn't.

I think someone stole my babies and replaced them with disagreeable, grumpy old men! The crying and whining that came from those two hasn't been seen for months now. And of course, it started just as I took them out of their stroller and got ready to place them on the photo set.

Sigh.

I'm going to try again tomorrow or next week.

I'ma going to get me some pictures, damn it! :-)

P.S. And wouldn't you know it that the screaming and crying stopped as soon as we were back in the car.

Goodbyes...

Today was the day my mom and grandmother left on their trip to Michigan. I agreed to take them to the airport, arriving at her house promptly four hours before the plane was scheduled to leave (and I still only managed to get them the 66.2 miles to the airport with 45 minutes to spare). My mom confronted me upon my arrival with a handwritten letter describing what was to happen with her possessions should something happen to her. It was even signed by two witnesses.

I. Totally. Freaked.

I think I managed to act nonchalant and said some sort of comment about how nothing was going to happen. But God. Inside, I was a basket case.

You see, up until a few months ago, for the most part, nothing bad had ever really happened in my life. There were no hospital visits. In fact, I had only been to the hospital three times in my entire life. There were no deaths of any close relatives. Great-grandmothers had passed, but it was hard to get too sad about someone I had only seen a handful of times when I was ten years old.

And no, I wasn't a Polly.ana thinking that the world was a place of eternal happiness. I knew that things could happen. Those things had just never touched my reality. And the longer those things were absent, the less I felt that they were possible. That stuff happens to "someone" else, not me.

Boy, did this year make up for lost time.

In the past, I wouldn't have batted an eye at my mom going on a trip. I'd give her a kiss, wish her well, and expect to see her in a few days.

This time, after dropping them off, I cried all the way home. Now, I worry. The 3rd can't get here fast enough.

A little game I found here. Use the first letter of your Mother’s name (first or middle) to answer each of the following.

1. What is your Mother’s name? Barbara

2. Something you would find in the freezer section? Broccoli (frozen)

3. A beverage enjoyed in the summer? Beer (but not by me cause I don't drink alcohol)

4. A word to describe your butt? Boxy (it really is a little square)

5. Something you would find in your garden? Brown dirt (I am so not a gardener)

6. Something a cat would drag in? bugs (that is all the wildlife they get to experience living in the house)

7. A favorite book title? Brown Bear, Brown Bear (umm...look at my audience here)

8. A fancy entree at your favorite restaurant? Beef Tenderloin (not my favorite food, but hey, this didn't ask for that. it is at my favorite restaurant, though!)

9. Something that is on your amazon wish list? Books (for babies and myself)

10. Something you have hidden under your bed? Bunnies (as in dust)

So... What are your answers?

Went to the pedi today. Get this...

Jason:
Length is 28.25 inches.
Weight is 17 pounds (I got 18 on my scale this morning, so I think this is a little under...)

Shawn:
Length is 27 inches.
Weight is 16 pounds. (I got 17 on my scale this morning, so I think this is a little under, too...)

Who are the preemies now??!! And to think they started out at 2 pounds 15 ounces!

Thinking About Tomorrow

Thank you for all of the nice comments. I do appreciate them!

It is hard to remember my life before all of this craziness started. I do know that I was quite content to have a quiet, dull life. And now. Well, let's just say that my life is far from quiet. I suppose I can say that it is never dull now, either. I miss quiet and dull.

A friend (she's the counselor at school) sent me these quotes. I have them posted in several rooms of my house:

Whatever the struggle, continue the climb. It may be only one step to the summit. --Diane Westlake

“Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow.” --Mary Anne Radmacher

"Anyone can give up, it's the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength.”

“Sometimes, struggles are exactly what we need in our life. If we were to go through our life without any obstacles, we would be crippled. We would not be as strong as what we could have been.

I have a tendency to be hard on myself when I feel like I am not coping with everything very well. I can't even quantify what "well" would mean in this situation anyway. There is just a part of me that nags that I should be handling things better than I am. Perhaps it is a lack of confidence in myself (although you would probably never think that if you met me in real life). Who knows?

I don't know, really, why I beat myself up the way that I do, but I do. What I need to remember is that what I am going through isn't normal. It isn't typical. It sucks. Anyone who was going through all of this crap would struggle. I am surviving through some extremely tough shit. I wouldn't be human if I didn't struggle while working my way through it.

I continue to try to believe that this is temporary and things will get better. It is just a matter of when. Thank you for helping me remember that, especially at my weak moments.

I am also trying to remind myself that there is so much to be thankful for now. My boys are alive and healthy right now. I have a husband who loves me and who I love in return. Plus, things are starting to turn around just a little, although I am hesitant to get too excited.

• School is officially out, my classroom is cleaned, and I have been checked out for the summer. Yea! I don't go back until the last week of August. :-)


• I went to lunch this afternoon with a bunch of teachers from work and had a great time.


• I got a new trashy book to read in my spare time. (and I will make sure there is some)


• I helped my mom plan a trip to go see her sister in Michigan. We went shopping to get her some things to take with her and got her a new suitcase. The boys were absolutely perfect in their behavior while we were out. They flirted and smiled and caused everyone they met to fall in love with them. (They get that from their father. He actually was given the "class flirt" superlative in high school. And YES we were dating at the time. I have nothing to worry about with him, though.)


• I gained 5 pounds over the last two weeks. This is a very good thing for me. Don't ask me how I did it, but I am starting to think that the craving I had for home made cinnamon rolls might have helped some. :-) I made 5 batches and ate them mostly by myself. Oh, and then there were the lava cakes I made...hmmm....maybe now I know for sure how I did it.


• The boys are starting to acknowledge the other's presence now. It is so sweet to listen to their "conversations". In the mornings, I will put them in a crib together while I finish getting up and dressed, and they just talk and laugh at each other for the longest time.


• Did I mention that school is out and now I get to stay home with the boys for 9 weeks!?!

I have had the song, "Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow" in my head for two days now. I think it is definitely affecting my mood in a positive way. I am all for that--I'll take anything that helps there. Anyway, we sang it to the students at the school-wide variety show today (to a loud round of applause). I think I have made it my theme song for the time being; it's replacing "I'm Alright" which was my previous theme song.

But I did have to laugh today--it was either laugh or cry. The universe can't let me have too much of a good time or anything, right? So, I got a jury summons in the mail today. I am hoping I'll get excused because of the boys. I made sure to put on there that I had premature twins. Even put that they were born at 28 weeks. I ain't too proud to beg!

This week has continued on its downward spiral. Yesterday, we got the police and autopsy reports for my dad's accident. There is nothing more surreal than reading in graphic detail the last moments of your father's life, that is, until you read about the weights and condition of the different parts of your father's body after his death.

Then we put one of our cats, the one I fed with a medicine dropper for weeks because she was too little to drink from a bowl when we found her, to sleep. The night was topped with burying her in the back yard.

A stellar evening all around.

Surely things are going to start getting better soon, right? I have to believe that or I am going to go crazy. Well, I suppose I should say crazier.

Father's Day **Updated**

Things around here haven't been going very well. My husband and I have been fighting like crazy. Not little spats. Fights. I don't like you very much fights. Over and over again. About big things, little things, things that matter, things that don't. Fighting for the sake of fighting it seems.

It is making me incredibly sad and more than a little depressed. I've been crying a lot more than I would care to admit.

I do love him. But, all of a sudden, it is bad.

We've been together since high school. It will be 19 years in August. We have had our ups and downs, just like everyone else, but this scares me. I don't really want to talk to him and it seems like every time he opens his mouth he's criticizing me or complaining about something. I haven't been much better.

I don't know if it is all the stress from the months since the boys' birth that is catching up to us. I don't know why it is happening.

I don't know how to stop it, either.

Today is Father's Day, and I don't want to celebrate it for him. I am being petty, I know, but he was so cruel when it was Mother's Day, so why should I celebrate for him what he wouldn't celebrate for me? I have two little cards, picked out yesterday, for each baby to give him. I just don't know if I will. That is just plain sad.

Right now he is making a grocery list so he can do some shopping. Why him and not me, you ask? Because he just bitched that he doesn't like it when I do the shopping because he doesn't always know what is there. Fine then. Do it yourself. Stupid. But I am mad and he is mad and we aren't talking.

His tactic is to just disappear and not talk about what is happening. That drives me up the wall. I need to talk. He doesn't and won't until he wants to. So the fights continue...

Sigh.

Today is Father's Day. Today is my parent's anniversary. My dad is gone. Isaac is being a prick. I am sad.

**Updated**

My mom and I went to Tar.get for a little while. I think it did me some good. There is something about that place that can usually make me feel a little better. Anyway, I did decide to give him the cards this afternoon. He did appreciate them and was really cute with the boys afterward. Sigh. If only that was all it took to make everything better again...

Cure?

The cure to a hunger strike? Pears. Definitely pears. Both boys are in love with them!

I have decided that teething is/was our issue. Jason's second tooth finally broke through (much to every one's delight because it wasn't fun for anyone, namely poor Jason), and Shawn's teeth are so close to coming through that it should really be any day now. We are not back to eating our regular amounts, but it has greatly improved. Yea.

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I have seven more wake-ups until the end of the school year. God, I can't wait, which is totally sad because I have only worked 10 weeks. Forever. Not nearly long enough. Things are still off kilter due to what happened. The air is tense. Yearbooks came out with a dedication page to the victim and the suspect's picture in the class section. There have been a lot of questions from the kids about why. It doesn't help that the arraignment is later this month. I think we're all ready for the year to be done.

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Having a hard time with Father's Day coming up. It also happens to be my parents anniversary. Isaac has to work. Looks like it will be a shitty day all around. I had nightmares about Isaac being in a car accident and woke up in tears. I know it has to be because of Sunday. Sigh.

Hunger Strike (A Baby Post)

Isn't it funny how things seem to change just as you think you have a handle on them? Here I was feeling pretty happy with myself because I had finally managed to juggle the twins without going crazy established a routine. Babies were getting fat, parents were getting to sleep, excursions to the outside were finally taking place--in essence, things were going great at the house.

The boys, sensing my smug attitude, have decided to ban together in their first show of "divided we fall" and have begun what will henceforth be known as Hunger Strike 2008. What has caused this little show of brotherly camaraderie, you ask? I haven't got a clue. I have thought long and hard about it too.

Illness? They don't really act sick outside of the HS2008.

Teething? Possible, but Jason's tooth is out completely (can we say awwwww) and his other is just about there, while Shawn's are pretty close to erupting as well.

The answer eludes me, unless making us suffer could be the rationale of a 7 month old. I am starting to think that is what this is.

During this last week, the boys have gone from eating a consistent 6 ounces (for Shawn) and 8 ounces (for Jason) in fifteen to thirty minutes to eating 3 1/2 - 4 ounces a feeding. Often, those 4 ounces take a good forty-five minutes to achieve. Bottles are being batted. Heads are turning away from us. Crying sometimes occurs. All in all, eating time has disintegrated. They are not eating more frequently, either.

Sigh.

Come on, boys. You are making me stress!

In an effort to maximize a healthy calorie intake, and therefore maintain our hard earned poundage, I have started giving the boys rice cereal with each feeding they eat below 5 ounces. They are not enjoying this new plan much. Let's just say that Jason's little video (and Shawn's)could have been taken today rather than last week. The reactions are the same.

I know that most of the answer lies in my releasing my obsession with relaxing a little about their eating. (I am seriously anal.) Still, I don't really see that happening for some time yet.

Anyone have any thoughts on what is going on with them?

Off Road

On Thursday of last week, I awoke to the rumbles of heavy machinery. Truck after truck drove down my block, with noise loud enough to shake the walls and set off the crib toys. Later, I came home to find my street closed, signs set in the middle of the road, and no pavement left. After some metal debating, I took the plunge and drove around the barriers down the now dirt road.

I was not prepared for the off road experience that greeted my little Sen.tra! Good grief. There were potholes like I have never experienced and rocks went flying. The trip made my teeth clang together. Babies started crying. It wasn't pretty.

The destruction of my street hit me hard. The symbolism wasn't lost on me, either.

The smooth ride I was accustomed to has been torn apart and stripped down to its foundation. Sure, there were bumpy parts on the old road, but they were manageable. I could see them coming and was quite good at avoiding areas that could cause trouble. I didn't mind that street. It was mine; it was home.

Since the babies were born, much of my life had become a dirt road full of potholes and rocks.

Today I came home to brand new pavement. The familiar cracks and potholes are now gone, leaving the blacktop smooth and mark free. It has to be as perfect as a street can be.

Even though I was comfortable driving down my old street, I know that the new street will be good for me. The destruction is over and now the rebuilding has started.

I think I have made my peace with that.