Silly Mom Thoughts

My three-year-old is a sponge, soaking up anything and everything that piques his interest. Sometimes I am caught of guard by his sponginess. He will repeat something that I said, or an action that he saw, when I thought he wasn’t even paying attention. The other day, for instance, he said out of nowhere, “It’s the night before Kissmas and all tru da house, not a criture was stuw-ing, not eben a mouse!” Needless to say, I was impressed.

Sometimes, though, he soaks up things I’d rather he didn’t. Like the other morning, when I was having my 5:25am tantrum I muttered the  “S” word under my breath when I was lifting up a child safety gate. The next morning, Bug walked up to the gate, grumbled, “Sit!” and stomped off.

Bug has a little friend who loves to add words to “head.” His favorite is “poophead.” Yesterday, this friend was over and soon after he left, Bug looked at me smiling and said, “Poophead!” I realized that he was testing this new cool word out and didn’t quite understand the meaning behind it, so I told him sternly to never say that word again, or he would be in trouble. I explained that it wasn’t a nice word to call someone at all.

Later that evening, the kids were in the tub and Bug looked at Bean and yelled, “Poophead!” Honestly, I think he thought it was a funny word, something that was more silly than insulting. But, I don’t want him going around saying that, so I plucked him out of the bath, wrapped him in a towel, and sent him off to time out.

He was crushed! Bath time is the happy hour of toddlers, something they look forward to after a long day of tantrums and being waited on hand and foot. When Mama takes away bath time, she means business.

After his time out sentence was served, he came back in to the bathroom and apologized to Bean and me. I put him in PJs and we watched Bean splash around in the bath for a while and he laughed at his silly little sister. That’s when he said it.

“You’re a-” he paused, thinking, and I prayed that he was not going to say the word he just got in trouble for saying, “Silly head!”

I was so proud. He sat and thought about the words before he said them. My punishment worked. I hugged him, kissed him, praised him for thinking before he spoke. I told him “silly head” is just fine, especially since our family is full of silly heads. The rest of the night, he giggled and called his sister a “Silly head” every time she was acting like a nut.

The only problem?

With Bug’s unique speech, “Silly head” actually sounds like, “Sh!t head.”

Oh well, it’s the true meaning that counts, right?

First of all, how come I can’t have a cool nickname like “Octomom?” It sounds like some sort of cool super hero, half-mom, half-octopus. “Stand back, children, Octomom will squirt ink all over these bad guys!” That oughta show ‘em. Truthfully, she would probably get great use out of eight appendages, if she had them.

I propose that my new nickname should be Quattro Mom. Fantastic Four-Under-Four. Super Slacker Mom. Hmm, that has a ring to it.

Anyway, on with Octomom. She is all the media rave lately and everyone seems to have an opinion about her. Most of it, I must say, I agree with.

Too Many Eggs

First, of course, is the initial controversy that gave Nadya Suleman the cool Octomom nickname in the first place: the egg drop. Can someone tell me why, even in an ethical setting, it is necessary or even advisable to implant more than two or three eggs in a woman’s uterus? Maybe I’m simply not schooled in the ways of in vitro fertilization, but it seems to me that any more than that is irresponsible and unneccessary. I realize that when that many eggs is implanted, the mother understands that selective termination may be necessary and that Octomom chose not to selectively terminate any of her children. Was that rational? No. But, I can’t say I would want to, either. How can you say, “Yeah, okay, get rid of a few of them” without always wondering “What if?” I think the whole situation should be avoided by not implanting that many eggs in the first place.

The government in my uterus?

  + = ?

There have been discussions about whether the government should step in and take control of these excessive multiple birth situations. Personally, I don’t want the government to have any say in anything that goes on with any woman’s body, especially where reproduction is concerned. I do, however, think that we could stand for some regulation on the doctors doing the in vitro fertilization, a lean on them to be more ethical in their practices. I think it’s safe to say, because I am definitely not the first to say it, that the Octomom shouldn’t have been implanted with one egg, let alone six.

No one’s lips are naturally that huge.

Then, of course, is the whole Octomom plastic surgery controversy. Oh heck-to-the-yes did she have plastic surgery done, have you seen pictures? Personally, I could care less if you have plastic surgery done. Your body, your choice. But, to spend tens of thousands of dollars on an unnecessary surgery, when you have six kids at home and are struggling financially? Not okay. I think that it may be a stretch on the media’s part, however, to assume that Nadya Suleman is attempting to be and look like Angelina Jolie. There are few things I’m on Octomom’s side about, but this is one of them.

Lies, lies, lies

The Octomom simply must have a few nuts loose if she thinks she can lie in this day and age and get away with it. Did she learn nothing from Bill Clinton’s, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman” statement that came back and bit him in the ass? Nowadays you can find out anything about anyone. What kind of groceries they buy at the grocery store, how much they spend on their mortgage. Heck, with the help of Facebook and MySpace, you can even learn that “I have a splitting headache” on Friday or “Cup ‘O Noodles is the greatest meal ever” on Tuesday. (Yeah, so those were a couple of my own Facebook updates recently.)

The point is, you can’t lie. Especially about something so find-out-able as being on government assistance. Octomom obviously has a thing or two to learn about being in the public eye.

Should the babies go home with her?

(Note: This is not a pic of an Octobaby.)

Wednesday, it was leaked out that the hospital where the Octobabies are still staying may not release the babies to her care. According to Yahoo! News, Octomom called Dr. Phil McGraw upset and revealed to him that unless she can prove she will provide a “better living arrangement, that they are not likely to release the children to her.”

Okay, first of all, I want Dr. Phil’s number! She gets a cool nickname and Dr. Phil on speed dial? No fair.

Second, I’m all for the hospital making this call. Of course, it’s in the best interest of the Octobabies, considering Octomom’s house is close to foreclosure, there are eight of them, all preemies, and she has six other children at home. In the Yahoo! article, it mentions that evaluating parents of preemies is a common practice and if they see an issue, they contact CPS. Good! I’m glad! And not simply in this case, but in every case. If you aren’t able to provide a safe, stable living environment for your children, you shouldn’t be bringing them home. You have nine months of pregnancy, sometimes a little less, to figure out what you’re going to do to get your butt prepared for your child. I am certain that CPS is called only in the most extreme of cases, and it is to put the child’s best interest at heart. Way to go, Octohospital. You rock.

Octomom, porn star?

It was released yesterday by Fox News that Vivid Entertainment approached Nadya Suleman to do a porno. They wanted her to get jiggy with eight guys in eight different scenes for a whopping $1 million. Um, eww. Fortunately, Octomom declined, citing her baby fat as an excuse.

Seriously, you do not want to see any woman naked post-pregnancy with one child, let alone eight. It is not a pretty sight. Loose skin and stretch marks abound. Think: elephant butt. I wonder if Octomom is going to have plastic surgery on her tummy too? Nah, she couldn’t be that dense. Could she?

To give or not to give, that is the question.

There once was a time when people poured out their hearts and wallets to families welcoming large number multiples. They were showered with diapers, bottles, hired help, clothing, money, anything and everything that the family would need. I think that ship has sailed for our society, especially after this Octomom controversy. Though people’s hearts go out to the Octobabies, they are suspicious of the mother and completely distrust her ability to make decisions. This, in turn is causing many people to opt not to donate cash to Nadya Suleman’s fund. I think if and when this happens in the future, people will be much more suspicious and less likely to help out. Now, instead of it being an “Oh, poor you” mindset toward the families, it’s more of a, “Wow, you’re really irresponsible” frame of mind.

In all, I wish the best for the Octobabies, in their health and well-being. I hope that they can grow up to be upstanding citizens. I hope that they are well taken-care-of and never in need of love and attention. They deserve that so much.

(When you’re a Mom, you come up with new words for sh*t. Today, I’m substituting “macaroni.” Sounds tastier, anyway.) Holy macaroni, I’m in shock. So much, in fact, that I started this blog at least ten different ways and deleted it because I couldn’t find the right words. There simply are no words to describe the feeling of what I’m about to tell you. None, nada, nil.

On Tuesday, I mentioned that I was a finalist in the Accentuate Writers Anthology Contest and that I would find out later this week if I made first, second, or third place.

It was announced early this morning that we would be finding out the results in the afternoon. Immediately, my heart started thumping. I felt confident in my story, but I hadn’t read most of the other entries and I know the people who were in the finals with me are super creative and talented. I really wanted to place, to hold a spot in another anthology. It would grant me even more encouragement that yeah, I am a writer and I can do this.

The results were posted and I forced myself to read everything before scrolling down to see who the winners were. It was so close, Michy mentioned, and difficult to judge.

Oooh, please have mine be in there! I silently begged the computer screen.

Scroll, scroll, heart beating out of my chest and wham!

“First Place: #101-Second Chance-Lindsay Maddox“

Holy macaroni, did I read that right?!

Sure enough, along with my forum buddy, Jo Brielyn, and a forum buddy’s hubby, Thor Gunnin, was my name.

Do you know what this means?

Along with a sweet cash prize (something that we need so badly) and some other goodies, I will be published in another anthology! I still cannot wrap my head around it. Oh my goodness, am I so excited. And proud, too. I know it isn’t good to be too prideful, but I really worked my butt off polishing that story. It was brutal, tedious, and heartbreaking to edit it down. Now I can see that it was totally worth it!

Wohoooo!

…is the time I was rudely awakened from a delicious dream. There I was standing in line at McDonald’s , eating Cup ‘O Noodles, trying to decide if I wanted a McDouble Cheeseburger, fries, or Chicken McNuggets. I was about to order all of the above, when my bedroom door swung open, sending me abruptly from dreamland to Mommyland.

Bug was awake.

At 5:25 am?!

We have been working with him on night training and apparently his little body woke him up to go pee. I helped him to the potty and then sent him back to his room.

“I want moke,”  he whined

“You can have milk later, buddy, it’s waaay too early right now,” I whispered, trying not to wake Bean up, who was sleeping just feet away.

I left the room and peeked into the bathroom. Turk was up getting ready for work.

“I hate tax season!” I hissed at him through the crack in the door. “You getting ready this early wakes the kids up!”

(In his defense, that wasn’t the case today, but it is usually the case.)

I plopped down onto the bed and closed my eyes. Bean started whimpering. Then crying. Bug came back into our room.

There is something you should know about me. Unless you are sick, teething, an infant, or have a damn good reason, you do not mess with my sleep. I need my sleep. Especially when I have twins cooking in my uterus.

Bean quieted down and I assumed she put herself back to sleep. Turk got Bug some milk and cereal and set him up in the next room to watch cartoons.

It was 5:41am. There are no cartoons on TV and I was so not dealing with Bug’s whiny tantrums all day because he didn’t get enough sleep. I went into the next room and turned off the TV. Bug flipped out and I lost my temper a bit, not my finest Mommy Moment. I told him to calm down (not in a calm voice myself, like that’s ever going to work), he freaked out more and woke up Bean who started screaming.

I stomped into the kitchen, warmed up some milk to put in a sippy cup for Bean, while Bug whined and freaked out next to me. Turk slipped out the front door with an “I love you. Hope you have a good day.” I will bet he ran down the steps as fast as his legs would take him. I would have.

Soon, I calmed down. Bug and Bean calmed down. I put him back in his room and plopped back into my bed.

My clock read 6:11 am and after all the adrenaline and getting upset, I was wide awake. Man!

Despite the rocky start to the morning, I was able to doze until 7:45, an unheard of feat. At one point, Bug crawled back into bed with me, but was good and quiet and snuggled. What could have been a bad morning, actually turned out okay.

Except that I haven’t been able to shake this insane craving for McDonald’s food…

A year ago, if you would have told me, “Lindsay, you are going to be published in a book next March,” I would have looked at you like you had centipedes crawling out of your ears. “Yeah, okay,” I would have replied, and in the back of my mind thought, “Whatever you say, nut job.”

And yet, I am going to be published in a book this March! My name will be on the cover and everything. Do you have any idea how amazingly cool and unbelieveable that is?! Me. Gutter brained, hardly-ever-takes-much-seriously, stay-at-home-mom, me. Published. In a book. With my name on the cover.

I found out this exciting news back in November, and it has yet to sink in. Maybe once I have the book in my hands it will.

To catch you up to speed, in case you weren’t one of my super cool blog readers a few months ago, I won first place in a short story contest through Accentuate Services. Without giving away too much of the story (because, well, don’t you want to check out the whole story?), my short piece deals with stillbirth, adoption, love, and loss. It is dedicated to the memory of Janell Victory Allen, my friend’s daughter who never took a breath in this world.

So, what does this all have to do with right now, you ask?

Well, I submitted another story to the Accentuate Writers Anthology Contest a couple of weeks ago. With all that has been going on in my life, I nearly forgot about it, until the discussion came up on the forum. Today, I found out that I am a finalist in the most recent contest! This means that hopefully later this week, I will find out if I placed in this contest. If I did, I will be published in the next anthology (and win some money too)!

The themes for the upcoming anthology are so cool. The one I submitted to that is currently being judged was “The Past.” The other themes are “The Present” and “The Future.” I’m a sucker for time, time travel, and all that fun stuff, so I can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with. Personally, I am at a loss for what to write for “The Present” and “The Future,” but I’m hoping something comes to me before the deadline.

What a difference a day makes, eh? Yesterday I was whining about life, and today I’m stoked about my writing career. Plus, today marks 11 weeks, so I’m nearly out of the first trimester! Come on second trimester, with your beautiful lack of morning sickness and increased energy…

Normally, I am a fairly optimistic, look-for-the-silver-lining kind of girl, but lately I’m having a hard time staying positive. There are a number of things going on on my life, and it feels as though it has all hit me at the same time. None of it is devastating, though most of it is depressing, and I’m simply thankful that it isn’t worse.

If I were wearing a mood ring, it would tell me my mood is… melancholy with a dash of hope.

This winter has been brutal. Between morning sickness and catching flu and cold bugs, I have essentially felt rotten almost every day of every week since mid-January. To add to it, my kids have also been sick, which is hard enough in itself, let alone when I’m having a hard time taking care of myself. Plus, it’s dead in the middle of tax season, and it feels like I’m never going to see Turk before 8pm again.

The recession is killing us financially. We make barely too much to qualify for WIC, even with me pregnant with twins, and having free milk and cheese would really help us out. Fun commodities like clothes, furniture, etc. are all going down in price significantly, but the necessities like groceries and gas are going up. We are having to buckle down big time and sacrifice date nights and fun outings with the kids because we need the money for more important things. It’s so crazy to me too, because we have always been excellent with our money. We have always set aside money into savings and even our savings has dwindled to nothing. It’s scary and depressing.

As a result of no money and sick kids and me, we have been spending a lot of time cooped up in the house. That in itself is enough to drive anyone bonkers after a while. I am so sick and tired of being sick and tired and broke.

Adding to this, Turk’s grandparents’ health is fading and that’s so sad. We love them dearly.

There are other more serious things going on in my life, but unfortunately, I can’t talk about them here.

Thankfully, my little family is safe and sound. I have started to feel the very first flutterings from the twins, which is extremely exciting. Bug, though he is testing us and throwing awful tantrums lately, is usually such a sweetheart. Miss Bean, despite her current fever, is being her cute silly little self. Turk and I are so much in love. Though these hard times are difficult, I have noticed that they make our marriage even stronger.

I know, “This too shall pass” but dang, could I have a little sunshine until it does?

Something miraculous is happening in my house as I type this. Brace yourself, this is huge. Are you ready? Okay. Both Bug and Bean are napping soundly, leaving me to blog and eat delicious Toblerone chocolate in a peacefully quiet house. Oh, how few and far between these glorious days are! To add to the wonderfulness of today, the sun is shining and I haven’t had my usual morning sickness for two whole days now. Somebody pinch me, I must be dreaming.

Since we have spent far too much time indoors lately, watching endless amounts of TV and Disney movies, I decided to pack the kids up and head for the playground this afternoon. Although I know my kids love going to the park, I always dread going without another adult to chat with. It’s so boring! They aren’t nearly old enough to where I can sit on a bench nearby and peruse through a magazine, so instead I find myself standing near the playground equipment watching them go up and down the slides. Of course, I cheer them on and interact with them, but it gets a little repetitive after a while.

Today there was another mother at the playground with her two children. Immediately, her kids ran up to Bug and whisked him off to play with them. It was adorable, I have never met such friendly kids in my life. Now, Bug is normally a friendly kid who gets along with most anyone, but he and the little boy his same age hit it off famously. They were holding hands, hugging, sliding down the slide together, it was too sweet.

Meanwhile, the mom and I chatted. She was cool and friendly. She told me how she grew up in another country and her children were bilingual, which pushed her cool-quotient through the roof. Her husband has season tickets for the Seahawks, Turk and I have season tickets for the Seahawks. They live only a few blocks from us. Our sons were born within two weeks of each other. We chatted on and on and our boys continued to play.

We then reached that weird part of any coincidental meeting at the park: To trade phone numbers or not to trade phone numbers. It’s the part of interacting at the playground that I dislike. It feels so much like dating to me. Playground dating.

I hate being forward, so it feels awkward for me to blurt out, “Hey, we should get together again since our kids play so well together. What’s your phone number?” Instead, I tested the waters a bit. “Wow, we should get these boys together again and do a play date or something,” I chuckled, so she could either take what I said seriously, or just chuckle along with me and ignore my remark.

I watched nervously from the corner of my eye as she reached for her phone. Holy moly, did I just make a new friend? Sure enough, her next words were, “Why don’t you give me your number and we’ll meet up again?”

Yessss! I made a playground date! Despite speaking in toddler babble all day, I am not completely socially inept! What a relief. We traded phone numbers with the promise to get in contact soon.

As far as playground dating goes, I think 2nd base involves meeting up again in a public place. If that works, we round 3rd base and schedule a play date at one of our homes.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Having kids truly forces you to open up socially. Although I’m fairly outgoing as an adult, I was painfully shy as a child. Sometimes, especially in unfamiliar situations, I find myself resorting back to that shyness. But, if I bring my kids along, there’s simply no option to be shy. If Bug is playing nicely (or sometimes not-so-nicely) with another person’s child, it would be awkward of me to not give the other parent at least a grin or some sort of acknowledgement (and sometimes an “I’m so sorry!” if Bug wasn’t being so nice).

I have been around parents who very clearly do not want to be interacted with. I always attempt a “Hello” or some sort of nonverbal communication, but there are some times when parents are off-the-charts antisocial. I was once at a children’s museum with Bug and my son and hers were playing nicely together. I tried to give her a friendly grin, and in response she made her kid stop playing and go somewhere else. She would physically move her child away from Bug any time they came in close proximity to each other. Now that was by far the weirdest interaction I have ever experienced.

No matter, though, there are plenty of Mama Fish in the sea (like the uber cool one I met today!).

My life is so random, why shouldn’t my blog also be? A few updates on my crew, my twins, and me.

Twins Update (or I’m So In Love With Those Heartbeats):

Yesterday, I saw my OB for the first time. How funny is that? Here, I’ve been to the doctor three times, had two ultrasounds and still haven’t actually seen my OB. Turns out, he and his wife just welcomed a baby the same time I was needing to come in, so our schedules crossed.

He sat down with me for close to an hour and simply chatted about my previous pregnancies, concerns I have, anything I want him to know. He had already thoroughly looked through my previous medical charts and explained things to me (like why I bled so severely after Bug was born) that no other doctor has taken the time to. We talked about my previous bout with postpartum depression and he said he would like to put me on antidepressants before the babies arrive so we can be proactive. I hate putting drugs into my system, but I know how awful PPD was and I have a feeling I won’t be spared this time either.

I asked when he usually delivers twins and he said he’ll let me go as long as we’re all safe and healthy, up to 39 weeks. He anticipates it will be closer to 36 weeks, since twins usually come early, but I will bet money they’ll have to be evicted around 39 weeks. (If Bug and Bean are any indication, my babies like to bake as long as possible.) So, that leaves me 29 weeks or less until we become a family of six!

He told me he usually does an ultrasound during the checkup, but since I had one recently, he didn’t feel that was necessary. I asked if we could at least try to pick up heartbeats and he said that we could certainly try. After my girly checkup and all that fun stuff, he was getting ready to leave and had totally forgotten about my heartbeat request. Bashfully, I asked, “Umm, can we please try to find the heartbeats?” my face turning all red like it always does.

He pulled out the doppler and began searching. I could hear my heartbeat loud and clear, but no babies at all. I started sweating bullets, worried that we wouldn’t find them. Soon enough, a beautiful swooshing came over the monitor. “There’s a baby!” the doctor smiled and moved the doppler around this way and that to find the other one. I remembered how difficult it was to see the other twin on the ultrasound, so I was less worried this time. But, another swooshing came over the monitor. It was so incredibly fast, I thought the doppler was picking up both babies at the same time. “Nope, that’s just one baby,” the doctor explained. Turns out, one baby’s heartbeat was around 140-150 and the other was more like 160-170.

It’s SO a boy and a girl.

Bug Update (or Potty Training Frustration):

Can someone please tell me why this kid won’t poop in the potty?! It is so dang frustrating and disgusting, to say the least. I don’t have any idea what to do to help him “get it” that it isn’t okay to poop in your pants. Ugh.

Bean Update (or Potty Prodigy):
Bean is her usual silly self. She, oddly enough, has pooped on the potty twice in the past week, despite the fact that she’s only 16 months old. I am so taking her potty training interest and running with it! I would much rather not have three in diapers come August/September.

Turk Update (or Working Hard for the Money):

Tax season is in full swing and Turk is working his booty off. He has been wonderful, helping me out when he gets home and letting me just pass out on the couch while he gets the kids ready for bed and cleans up the dishes and laundry. I don’t know how I snagged this one, but he’s a keeper.

Me Update (or Somebody Call the Waaaah-mbulance):

Though I have about one day of relief a week, I am still dealing with morning sickness and exhaustion. I’m worried that after I’m through this phase, I’m going to be ruined for ginger, ginger ale, crackers, bagels, cream cheese, and all the other stuff I have been living off of, for the rest of my life! To add to my attempt at morning sickness relief, I picked up some Preggie Pops at Babies ‘R Us. First of all, one of the flavors was Lavender. I’m sorry, but if saltine crackers are barely appealing to me, Lavender is far from appealing. Ew. Even the other flavors, though tasty, were not effective. Ah well, looks like I’ll have to keep trying new things until I’m over the morning sickness or until I find something that works.

Other than that, things are going pretty well. We have had some bumps in the road the past week, but nothing we can’t overcome. I’m so glad we have a number of months before the twins are born, so we can save up money and really be prepared. They had better not try to come super early, dog gone it. *wink*

It’s funny, the number of things that go through your mind the second you find out you’re having twins. Having been through pregnancy twice now, I was prepared for the overwhelming number of questions, thoughts, and what ifs that would run through my mind initially. I wasn’t prepared about how many more I would have with the thought of twins. The first week or so after we found out seemed to drag on for eternity. Every day seemed to span an entire week, making the idea of being pregnant for 31 more weeks seem unbearable.

It occurred to me that the reason why time seemed to have stood still was because I was filled with questions, thoughts, and worries that are supposed to last me the entire pregnancy, not get resolved in a week. So, I decided to mentally pace myself and only think about something twin related once every few days.

First huge question: To find out the sex, or not to find out the sex of the twins.

We found out with Bug at about 20 weeks, and it was a little overwhelming calling everyone up and saying, “It’s a boy!” Plus, it seemed to make the rest of the pregnancy drag on forever and ever. (It didn’t help that Mr. Bug was apparently nice and cozy inside because he was almost 2 weeks late.)

We didn’t find out with Bean, and hearing “It’s a girl!” as she was being lifted from me was seriously one of the coolest moments of my life.

I really wanted to hold out this time too, even though most people find out with twins. But, the more we’re thinking about it, the more Turk and I are leaning toward finding out this time. Honestly, we do need to know if the babies are the same sex, because although I have some clothes for boys and girls, I definitely don’t have enough for two of the same sex. Plus, to prepare Bug and Bean, it would be nice to be able to say, “Your brother and sister,” or “Your brothers,” or “Your sisters” when we’re talking about the babies.

Even if we do find out, I absolutely flat out refuse to call them by their names until they’re born. Don’t ask me why, but that is such a weird pet peeve of mine. Actually, I think I do know why… Turk and I are so indecisive with names up to the very last minute, that I’d be afraid of calling the babies one thing during the pregnancy and change it to something entirely different after they’re born. I’m not prepared to commit to names until I see their little faces.

So, at this juncture, it appears as though we will be finding out. For the record, I seriously believe it’s either two girls or a boy and a girl (leaning more toward boy and a girl).

Second huge question: How am I going to breastfeed twins with two other small children who need me?

I know this one won’t be answered until I have the twins home and just figure it out, but I have started doing some research on my own. It looks like it will actually be easier to tandem nurse the twins, as opposed to putting them on separate schedules. I know that will probably be easier on my sanity too, so I’m not a milk factory all day long. I think I’m going to set up a special basket of goodies or movies that Bug and Bean can take out only when I’m nursing, so it’s their special treat while Mommy’s spending time with the twins. I’m hoping and praying that it works out, because I certainly don’t want to have to buy double the formula when I have already successfully breastfed two children. I know the girls work perfectly well, I want to put them to good use.

Other questions are stewing around in my brain like:

How can I wear twins? (Actually, I saw that the Ellaroo Wrap holds twins when they’re still pretty little. Unfortunately, that wrap runs around $75-100, so I’m going to have to save up my pennies.)

How will Bean adjust to the new babies? (I’m less worried about Bug, because he is older and understands more. The other day, he leaned down to talk to my belly and said, “Hi babies, we miss you!” Seriously, how lucky are these kids to have such a great big brother?)

Will I ever leave the house again? (Probably not.)

There are many, many more questions going through my mind, but I’m refusing to let them overwhelm me. I’m only ten weeks tomorrow, I have so much more time to worry. No sense in doing it all right now!

I spent Friday night and all of Valentine’s Day sicker than sick. It was absolutely awful. I didn’t want to move for fear of tossing my cookies. I couldn’t eat, and could barely drink. Personally, I think it is quite cruel that pregnant chicks are even allowed to get the flu or any other virus. We should have automatic immunity, don’t you think?

Knowing the dangers of dehydration, especially in pregnancy, I made sure I was getting plenty of fluids, especially water and drinks with electrolytes. With all the times I ran to the bathroom and subsequently rid myself of the beverages, I started switching beverage colors, you know, to keep it interesting.

While I was miserably spewing my guts out every hour or so, I would think to myself, I want to feel normal again, this sucks!

The funny thing is ”normal” for me right now still involves daily nausea. I can honestly say I’d take nausea any day to hugging my toilet all day long, incapable of caring for my kids or myself. At least with nausea, I know it’s for good reason. The flu or food poisoning or whatever nasty thing plagued me the past couple of days didn’t do me any good.

Still, it’s nice to have that perspective. I could be so much sicker than I am. Nausea is still miserable, yes. But it’s far better than not being able to hold anything in my stomach. My heart goes out to the pregnant women who have to suffer from such severe symptoms.

Today, I’m still not 100% back to my pseudo-normal state, but at least I can eat. Can I tell you how much I’m in love with Cup ‘O Noodles? There’s nothing better than slightly rubbery noodles and dusty dried veggies in super salty broth. Yummy. (No seriously, I do love it.) Hopefully tomorrow, I’ll be back to my normal self (if you could ever use the word “normal” to describe anything about me), and hopefully soon after that I’ll be done with the nausea stage of this pregnancy. Two more weeks and the first trimester is over, yay!

(I have to give a big shout out to my mom who came over Friday night for a fun girl’s night, and instead ended up taking care of my kids and me for 24 hours while Turk was at work. I would have been a total mess if it weren’t for her help. Thanks, Ma!)