Silly Mom Thoughts

Oh my, things have gotten far worse on the morning sickness end of my twin pregnancy. I had one week completely free of nausea and it was glorious. Then, last week, I started feeling nauseated again. The nausea turned to tossing my cookies once a day, which gradually turned to tossing my cookies after nearly every meal. Essentially, I haven’t eaten much since Saturday at dinner and it has been miserable.

I thought, maybe, it was the flu. But, I haven’t had a fever, it has lasted over a week now, and no one else in my family has gotten sick. I think it’s simply the twins stirring up trouble with Mama’s belly.

Now, I would have hoped that under such circumstances I would have the balls to suck it up, make it work, and deal with it.

Yeeeaah, not so much.

Screw Mrs. Tough Mama. I have been a big, huge, curl up in a ball, whine and cry, baby.

I have been letting my kids eat oatmeal and cereal for nearly every meal, simply because the smell of hot dogs and chicken nuggets quite literally makes me dry heave. I have allowed my kids to watch too many movies and play much longer by themselves than normal, simply so I can lie down and be still for a moment. I have called Turk crying almost every single day this week. And, I have whined- oh boy have I whined- to my friends about how yucky I feel.

And, instead of telling me to suck it up, they have listened to me, prayed for me, taken care of me, and helped me out immensely.

Friday, one of my friends insisted that I stay at her house for the afternoon and then insisted I stay for dinner. She fed me, she chatted with me, and her kids entertained mine for hours. It was an immense relief.

This morning, still sick as a dog, I called the doctor’s office to beg for Zofran or some other type of anti-nausea medicine.

“So, you have some morning sickness?” the nurse asked.

“No, I have had morning sickness for the past two months, now it’s worse and I’m throwing up,” I explained.

“I see,” she said and I prayed the next words out of her mouth were going to be “Let me get that prescription drawn up for you.”

Instead, these awful words came out of her mouth. (And if you have ever suffered from more than just nausea morning sickness, you’ll understand why they’re awful.)

“Why don’t you try sucking on some ginger, drinking ginger ale, pop a few Tums tablets, and take 25mg of Vitamin B6 three times a day,” she said.

My eyes welled with tears and I had to hang up the phone.

My morning sickness isn’t going to get better with Tums and Vitamin B6! And I have had so much ginger this pregnancy, I’m fairly certain at least one of these kids will be named “Ginger.”

Depressed, sad, and still sick, I hauled the kids out of the house to two different stores to try and find more ginger candy and the other stuff. I never found the correct dosage of Vitamin B6.

At home, I decided to scramble some eggs to force it down my throat, thinking some protein would help my nausea subside.

Lets just say I got to see my eggs again shortly afterward.

That sealed it. I couldn’t deal with this anymore. I called the doctor’s office again, explained that I don’t think they understood the fact that I wasn’t just nauseated, but couldn’t keep food down and I needed medicine NOW.

The nurse eventually called back, apologized for not realizing the severity, and offered to give me a medicine that would knock me out or schedule me an appointment with my doctor for tomorrow morning.

Yeah, I can’t do “knocked out” when I have two kids to care for, so I opted for the appointment.

Rest assured, I will be grovelling on the floor of that doctor’s office, begging for some medicinal relief from this hell.

In the midst of all of these calls, I called and vented to my neighbor, who offered to take the kids for a bit. Knowing she had to work tonight, I didn’t want to throw a couple more crazy kids at her, though I was so appreciative for the offer.

Later, another friend called and offered to take the kids. I was feeling okay at that point, so I asked if I could just come over and hang out with the kiddos. By the time I got there, I was sick as a dog again. She shoo’d me off to the couch while she entertained the kids outside for three hours. I sat there, in silence, I slept, I sipped water and nibbled on crackers. I had no responsibilities to speak of.

Then, she fed the kids dinner, she chatted with me, and simply made me feel wonderful.

As if these three friends weren’t support enough, online friends have been showering me with support and encouragement. Turk has been amazing, coming home from work and letting me crash while he gets the kids ready for bed.

I am one lucky girl.

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!).

I was a sixteen year old high school junior messing around on AOL and searching the internet. A little instant message popped up on my screen from this dude named TurkDog4.

TurkDog4: Hey! Your profile is funny.

Me (I seriously can’t remember by screen name): Thanks, glad you like it.

You see, instead of writing my actual name under the “Name” column of my profile I wrote:

Name: Hi, my name is, my name is, my name is Slim Shady.

Eminem’s hit song had just come out, and I thought I was being clever. The rest of my profile was about as serious as my name. The only actual information I gave out was my city and state, which was how TurkDog found me. In his own boredom, he had been searching profiles for girls who lived nearby. He found me.

We chatted online all night. He told me about himself and his family and how he was kind of dating this girl but she smoked and he didn’t like it. I told him about myself and that I was sort of dating this boy, but I didn’t think it was going anywhere. Turk tried to convince me to try to make things work with this other guy, and gave me some pointers.

This strange feeling came over me, chatting with this boy. It solidified my feelings that things really weren’t going to work out with the other guy, and made me think that maybe something was going to happen with TurkDog. Like a crazy, crazy girl, I tried writing my first name with his last name in my journal that night.

(In truth, I did that with any boy that sparked my fancy. I had to be right once, right?)

The next day, Valentine’s Day, I ended things with the other boy (sorry Keith). That sounds cruel, but I don’t think he took it so bad. We honestly hadn’t been hanging out that long, and I think I was starting to get on his nerves anyway.

The day after Valentine’s Day, I logged on and my heart leapt into my throat when I saw that my TurkDog was online. I messaged him a big, smiley-faced “Hi!!”

TurkDog4: Hey. Who are you again?

My heart sunk. What the heck?! Unenthusiastically, I typed my name and very little else. I was pissed.

TurkDog4: Oh! Right, I’m sorry. You’re the cute girl who doesn’t smoke and is really funny.

Things started lifting, but I wasn’t convinced. I think my lack of reply clued him in to my disappointment because he kept replying with facts he remembered about me and little funny snippits of our conversation. Soon, he regained my trust.

Two days later, we chatted on the phone for the first time. Three days after that, I showed up at his work and we met for the first time in person. The next week, we were officially boyfriend and girlfriend.

Four-and-a-half years after we met online, we said “I do.”

Now, ten years since that coincidental (and maybe not-so-coincidental) meeting, two babies and two more on the way, lots of ups and downs and happiness and love later…

I’m still in love with TurkDog.

Some women are sports widows. As a matter of fact, at one time, I was a football widow. I lost my husband every Sunday, Monday, and the occasional Thursday night for the entire football season. Eventually, I decided, “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em,” and signed on as a football fan myself.

Some women are widows to other husband-related activities. Fishing widows, hunting widows, ski widows, hobby train widows. You name the hobby, there’s surely a neglected wife behind it.

As the wife of a Tax Accountant, I have come to realize that I am very much a tax season widow. Now, this is not to say that my husband’s job is, by any means, his hobby. Nor is it to say that he goes to work and parties all day long. I know all-to-well the rigors of tax season and the toll it takes on my husband mentally. Believe me, I do.

However, as a tax season widow, I find myself all alone with the kids Monday through Saturday. Often, he doesn’t get home until after the kids are in bed, so there are sometimes days on end where they don’t see their Daddy. When this happens, Bug starts acting naughty, which wears me down, which sucks. Sometimes, especially when it has been a number of days since the kids have seen their Dad, I keep them up late, just so he can kiss them goodnight and tuck them in. I always know when I do this, that I will pay for it the next day with tired kiddos, but I think it’s worth it.

It’s funny though, the idea of being a tax season widow this year. For some reason, despite my seemingly endless nausea and brain-melting fatigue, I don’t mind the fact that I’m the only parent for most hours of the week. It could be that this year I have my writing to keep me busy. It could be that I have lots of friends to keep me distracted.

Truthfully, though, I think it mostly has to do with the economy.

In this economy, where thousands upon thousands are losing their jobs, I’m merely thankful that my husband has a job, and a relatively secure one at that. Who am I to complain about him working a ton of hours on salary pay when there are so many who would kill for such job security? I truly believe, though these bad economic times are depressing and scary, they are making myself, and many others thankful for what we have, as opposed to what we don’t have.

Not only is my husband gainfully employed, his work looks out for the families of the employees. For the duration of tax season, they teamed up with the local daycare, so employees can drop their kids off on Saturdays to play and have fun and give the tax season widowers and widows like me, a break. Even though it’s not something I can use every Saturday, it’s still there. Now that is a good company, looking out for the families of the employees.

So this year, I will happily bear the title of Tax Season Widow because I know it could be so much worse.

(As a completely unrelated side note: Have you ever seen a $10,000 bill like the one in the picture? I didn’t even know they ever existed!)

Something interesting occurred to me recently. During a conversation with my aunt, I was reminded how my Papa used to say, “You’re having twins, I know it!” to every single one of my female cousins when they got pregnant. Yet, he was always wrong, and always there would be just one baby. Sadly, Papa passed away in November 2007. I have been wracking my brain to think of anyone, but honestly I believe that since then, none of Papa’s grandkids has gotten pregnant.

Until me, that is.

And it’s twins.

That was so Papa’s doing. I can see him up there, elbowing Jesus and chuckling, “Hey, could you do me a favor? Send my granddaughter a set of twins? Sure would appreciate it if you could.”

Thanks, Papa.

(No seriously, thank you. I’m stoked.)

I was supposed to have an appointment on February 13th for a pap smear and all that fun stuff, along with an ultrasound to peek at the babies. Last Friday, the doctor’s office called and told me they had to bump my appointment back a week, to the 20th. I called back and said, “Umm, I don’t mind being bumped back for the girly exam, but I really need to see these babies again by ultrasound, stat.” (Fine, I didn’t say, “stat,” but I’m tellin’ ya, there was a definite “stat” urgency to my voice.) The receptionist said, “You’re having twins? Oh, that’s a little different then.”

They called me on Monday and said that I would be able to get in on Wednesday (today) for a real ultrasound with a real technician. I was so relieved! It’s funny, though. I have this peace about my pregnancy in the past week or so. I just know everything is going to be okay. I don’t know if it’s because I think Papa has something to do with it, or because I know I have prayers flooding in for my little twinkies from all over the US, but I have this calmness about my pregnancy that I have never experienced in prior pregnancies. I am fully aware that twin pregnancies are higher risk for fetal death, birth defects, etc. But, I also know that between my two tiny little grandmothers, they birthed three sets of super healthy twins. I think I can too.

So today, when I leaned back onto the examining bed, I knew I would see two beautiful heartbeats. Sure enough, I did. Both babies are measuring exactly the same size (8w2d), and had exactly the same heart rate (169 bpm). I saw them both with my own eyes. Baby A was easy to see, once again, and Baby B was much trickier to get a good view of. The technician said Baby B was just in a difficult position right now.

The technician did an outer (transabdominal) ultrasound first, which shocked me because I thought you couldn’t see babies this tiny from the outside until much further along. He said that it depends upon a woman’s size and uterus shape (I believe). For the first time during this pregnancy, I felt skinny. After all, I was skinny enough to see my babies from an outer ultrasound!

Of course, he still had to do a transvaginal ultrasound too, but I didn’t care. I got to see my babies on the screen for twenty whole minutes! (Along with various other body parts. I’m no ultrasound technician, but I’m pretty sure I saw a hand in my kidney.) I had been sneezing all morning, and in the back of my mind I worried what would happen if I sneezed while the transducer wand was up my hoo-hoo. Fortunately, I didn’t have to sneeze, so I didn’t have to find out.

And this morning, I had a new breakthrough with my morning sickness. First, I threw up! I have never ever thrown up in pregnancy and I usually hate puking, but man oh man, did it feel gooooood afterwards. I felt as though I could take on the world! Later, when the nausea crept up again, I tried some Altoids Ginger candies and they worked almost immediately. I don’t care if the reason they worked is all in my head, so long as it worked.

To add to my wonderful day, my amazingly selfless, sweet-hearted friend Danielle not only agreed to watch my kids during my ultrasound (this will be the 2nd time in a week she has watched them), but she picked them up an hour early so I could have some time to myself. I simply cannot believe how blessed I am for the people I have in my life.

So, there you have my day. Wonderful, by any pregnant mommy’s standards (even with the puking).

What do you think of, when you think of a truly sexy man?

Rock hard abs?

Chiseled thighs?

Arms that could scoop you up in one fell swoop?

If so, my guess is that you aren’t a mother to small children. Sure, muscles and definition are great, but a complete waste if they aren’t being used for important things, like lugging loads of laundry up the stairs or carrying children around piggy-back.

Last night was one of those, “Damn, you are the sexiest man alive” moments between Turk and me. He came home from work, we sat down and had a nice dinner, all the while I was still in my pajamas. My slovenly attire didn’t really occur to me until he asked, “Did you guys go anywhere today?” I looked down at my worn sweatpants stained with paint from a project last summer and my sweatshirt caked with Bean’s snot. “Nope, we didn’t go anywhere.”

After dinner, I asked Turk if he would mind if I took a shower and he told me he didn’t.

Sexy points for Turk: 1

In preparing for the shower, I decided that I hadn’t soaked in a bath in quite a while and that sure sounded nice. Fully aware that the kids would absolutely flip their lids seeing a bubble bath being drawn that they weren’t going to take part in, I decided to take the risk. I cleaned out all the toys, wiped it down with a Clorox cleaner wipe, grabbed our shower radio, and filled up the tub. Sure enough, the kids absolutely freaked out.

Before I locked the bathroom door and turned up the music, I smiled at Turk. He was gathering up the kids for a rousing game of “run from Daddy who is making insanely loud monkey noises.”

Sexy points for Turk: 2

My bath wasn’t exactly the most relaxing, what with all the commotion in the background of the kids squealing with joy and Turk’s monkey call of “Oooh-oooh-aaaaaaaaah!” in the hallway. But, the kids were happy and I was in a nice, warm, kid-free bathtub (well kid-free, aside from the one I’m toting around for the next eight months).

Later that night, he did the dishes.

Sexy points for Turk: 198,002

Seriously, could this man get any sexier?

Now tell me, which man would you rather have: Hairless model man that looks (and probably acts) more like a chick than a guy, or cute, blue-eyed Turk who is such a man, he’s not afraid to be a good Dad and husband?

I rest my case.

There is something a friend’s mom once told me about marriage that has stuck with me. “Lindsay,”  Patti said, “In your marriage, you will fall in and out of love. You will always love your spouse, but it’s impossible to be in love with them all the time.” Though I was just fifteen or so when she doled out this marital wisdom, I was so shocked and yet relieved at what she said, I decided it was important enough to store in my memory banks. And, though my friend’s mom has since left this world, I will cherish this wonderful piece of advice she gave.

I believe this simple statement made by a 40-something mom to her daughter’s friend is what has given me a realistic look at my own relationships, and particularly my marriage. I also believe that people need to go into marriage with that statement tattooed across their forehead. If more starry-eyed couples were told, “You will fall in and out of love, and that’s normal” I believe that maybe there would be less divorce in the world.

Think about that statement and how much weight it takes off of a relationship:

You do not have to be in love all the time.

Shew!

I love my husband dearly. We have been together for almost 10 years now, and I know that there will be good times and not-so-good times. I know there will be times in-between when we reach a plateau and we’re just there. Most importantly, I know that this is all okay. It’s normal. There have been times in the past, and I’m sure there will be times in the future, when I would rather spend time by myself than hang out with Turk. There have been times when I have been so furiously mad at him, I just want to scream at the top of my lungs and run far, far away. Fortunately, these instances are few and far between, but they still do happen. In those moments, though, I know in my heart that I still love him. I know that we will reconcile our differences and apologize profusely when it all passes. It is okay that I’m not in love with him at that moment, because after we weather each storm, I know that I will love him even more.

Getting married doesn’t automatically bind you to your spouse, and nor should it. Being in a marriage does not involve morphing into this two headed creature with the same last name. As such, you remain individuals in a marriage with different thoughts and actions. Though the honeymoon period of a relationship may blind you to this fact, it will eventually surface that you and your spouse are not, in fact, exactly alike. Walking down the aisle is just the beginning of the adventure of marriage, much like giving birth is only one small, but important, step in becoming a parent. It takes time, it takes work, and it takes a whole lot of love and patience.

There is simply no humanly possible way to stay googly-eyed and in love all of the time. To tell you the truth, I’m glad. If everything in our relationship was sweet and wonderful, we wouldn’t be growing as individuals or as a couple. We would be stagnant. I would much rather undergo difficulties in my marriage and come out on the other side loving my husband even more, than just co-existing and pretending everything is okay.

Marriage takes work, and sometimes it isn’t fun work. Sometimes, when Turk and I are at odds, I find myself infuriated with him that he isn’t seeing things my way. He, at the same time, is infuriated with me for not seeing things his way. But, that’s what makes us a good couple. It is a good thing that we are both strong-willed and stand up for ourselves. At the same time, it’s also good when we come to a resolution and either the person in the wrong sucks up their ego and admits fault, or we compromise and agree to disagree. That’s another great thing about marriage: You can disagree! You are two individuals with different thoughts, feelings, emotions, and backgrounds. It only makes sense that you’re going to disagree on certain things. So long as they aren’t major things, like one person absolutely refuses to have children and the other wants a whole litter of babies, you can work past disagreements.

There is one rule we live by during arguments: We never, and I mean never say the “D” word. Divorce is not an option for us, unless infidelity or abuse of any kind is concerned. With ten years of a loving relationship behind us, we should be able to work out our problems. So, especially in the heat of an argument, we don’t talk about divorce.

The way I see it, and I think Turk would agree, is that we have arguments, we come to a conclusion, and we let it drop, so long as neither one of us is holding on to any resentment or hard feelings. If there are still feelings about the argument, we work them out until they’re gone. It is my sneaking suspicion that if we didn’t do this, and a little bit of each argument was left over in either of our hearts, that hurt or resentment would pile up and pile up, until it exploded to something very ugly. Something that would drive a wedge between us and break up our family.

I’m not saying we have a perfect marriage, by any means. We have been together for close to ten years, but we have only been married for five. I know this is peanuts compared to most marriages, and I know we have much to learn about each other still. But, we are doing everything we can to make sure we continue learning about each other and growing together as much as we grow individually. We make it a point to spend time without the kids, just being a couple, because our marriage is as important to our kids as it is to us. I do not want to wake up one morning, in 20 years when the kids are (hopefully) out of the house, roll over and stare at the man next to me, wondering who the hell he is. I also don’t want to lose sight of the reasons I fell in love with the man in the first place (and no, Turk, it really wasn’t your 1988 Volkswagen Golf or your money *wink*). I hope and pray that the next fifty years are as wonderful as the first ten have been… or even more so.

This is slightly off-topic, but I simply love old ads. Check out this Palmolive Soap Ad from 1922. Too bad soap didn’t cost $.10 anymore. Maybe then, money would be one less thing we’d have to fight about in marriage!

Oh boy, was our Christmas interesting!

Christmas Eve was awesome. My parents and brother came up to visit us, we had a delicious dinner of prime rib and garlic mashed potatoes. We drank a little, laughed a lot, and ate way to much. After they left, Turk and I got to play Santa and set up the toys that needed setting up, put presents under the tree, and filled stockings. Have I mentioned how much I love having kids, especially at Christmastime?

Bug Eating the Gingerbread Train

Santa was here!

Christmas morning, the kids were totally excited about the presents. Bug was very sweet and handed out presents to everyone and was quite patient waiting for everyone else to open presents when it wasn’t his turn. Bean was only mildly interested, so Bug opened her presents for her. It was pretty cute. It was snowing while we were opening presents, a rare thing for us Northwesterners, but it was absolutely beautiful.

Bean’s Favorite Gift: Rose Petal Cottage

After presents were opened and we were dressed to go, we left for Turk’s parent’s house. We were worried about the weather, but really wanted to make it down to see family. I backed out of our driveway and had to go around the block because a Comcast van was stuck blocking the other path. Not a good sign that we’d be able to make it up. Sure enough, I rounded the corner and started heading up our insanely steep hill, only to get stuck spinning my tires. Thankfully, the Comcast guy was super sweet and helped Turk push our car up the hill. Both he and Turk were sweating like crazy when, 20 minutes later, I was finally at the top. We were so grateful for the Comcast guy’s help, though.

The road down was fairly clear, though patchy in places. I took it easy and eventually we made it to his parent’s house where we opened presents and got to meet Bug and Bean’s cousin for the first time (and man, is she beautiful). At around 3pm we headed for Turk’s grandma’s house… such a bad idea.

You see, we live in a very hilly part of the world, especially in some towns near the water. When you go up one hill, you almost always have to go down another. This doesn’t work so well for my little 2-wheel-drive car whose tires need to be replaced. It would be nice if the roads were plowed, or even sanded, but since we don’t normally get 18″ of snow, there isn’t the man power or equipment necessary to clear side roads. We ended up getting stuck 3 times. Fortunately, I am married to a genius of a man who packed a shovel in our car. He dug us out and pushed the car so we could get through. The last time we got stuck, just a block from his grandma’s house, Turk’s dad came and helped us out.

I’d like to say Turk and I stayed calm the entire time, but there were plenty of f-bombs and sh*$, among other distasteful words flung about. We made up later, though, with no hard feelings. Fortunately, Bug didn’t pick up any of the words to add to his vocabulary. Shew.

After the party at Grandma’s, we utilized all the manpower we could to get up the hill. Clint’s dad backed up one hill, floored it, and just before he lost momentum, Turk and his brother ran up behind the car and started pushing until they reached the top, where Turk and I climbed in and drove back to his parent’s house.

After an entire day of getting stuck, swearing, and clutching the steering wheel tightly, Turk and I decided to stay at his parent’s house overnight. The next day, it snowed again, and we decided to stay one more night. I’m glad we did, though. It gave us more opportunities for chatting, laughs, and memories. Plus, I got to hold that little baby girl a whole lot. Did I mention how cute she is?

A Snowy Walk to Starbucks

Yesterday we finally decided to head for home. The snow was melting at a rapid pace, creating a foot of now slushy nastiness. I had barely backed out of the driveway before I was stuck again. Turk’s brother helped us out and we were finally on the road, only to get stuck around the next turn. A kid was shoveling his driveway and came out to help us, and Turk’s brother came up the road and helped us out again. They told me to get in the grooves and not stop, so I did. It was like being on one of those roller coaster type rides at Disneyland where you’re on the tracks and the cart bumps around to get into the correct grooves. We could hear the snow scraping along the bottom of my car and we bumped and thumped around until we finally made it to the main road where it was smooth sailing the whole way. We pulled into our driveway, relieved that the snow had mostly melted in our down.

Overall, a great Christmas, and one to remember for sure. How blessed we are to have such wonderful families, safe cars (even if they aren’t the best in the snow), and best of all, each other. I hope your Christmas was equally as blessed!

As moms, we are complete gluttons for punishment, aren’t we? When we get a chance to go to a party and let loose, we stay up late despite the fact that our little ones will wake us up at the crack of dawn the next day. We endure mastitis, cracked and sore nipples, and thrush just to go one more day to breastfeed our baby. We clean our houses spotlessly, although we know our kids will destroy it minutes later.

Most of all, we have more kids.

Moms love this torture, I tell ya. But dang, our kids are worth it.

At the request of Ann, one of my super awesome blog followers, I’d like to give you a little insight on what to expect when you add baby #2 to the family, and how to make the transition as smooth as possible. I promise not to sugar-coat it, because really, that won’t benefit you at all, will it?

Are you ready?

You sure?

Alright then…

Let me just put this out there to begin with: Transitioning from one to two kids was one of the hardest things I have ever experienced. Here are some problems I faced, and solutions I finally figured out. I hope they help you too!

Adding Another Baby Issue # 1: Sleep When the Baby Sleeps

When you have a baby, everyone tells you, “You have to sleep when the baby sleeps.” After you have your second child, you’ll begin kicking yourself for all the times you didn’t heed this suggestion with your first. In your beyond exhausted state, you’ll wish your newborn was the one tucking you in to nap every few hours. When you mention that you’re not getting to nap much during the day, people will constantly tell you, “Well, you’ll just have to get your two kids on the same schedule, then!” Seriously? Has anyone actually tried convincing a newborn to stay awake? It’s difficult. No, scratch that. It’s impossible.

Solution:

When the newborn goes down for a nap, put yourself and your older child in a child-safe room (preferably one with a TV). Whether it’s the living room and you have gated off the hallway, or in your bedroom and you have locked the door and/or gated the door, park yourselves in the room. Supply your older child with their favorite toys and plenty of movies. Fall asleep. I won’t guarantee that it will be a relaxing sleep, because your older child will probably bug you to put the arm back on a doll or change the movie every 20 minutes, but it will be something. Take whatever sleep you can get. (Just make sure the room is safe and your little one can’t escape!) Oh, and be prepared to wake up to a super messy room.

Adding Another Baby Issue #2: Establishing a Routine

Remember when you had your first child and you felt like it was difficult getting into a routine? Yeah, so, it’s worse with two. What makes it even more difficult, is that while your older child’s routine doesn’t change drastically from week to week, a newborn’s does.

Solution:

For the sake of your older child, stick to at least part of their normal routine after the first couple of weeks. The fact is, that your routine will change with your new baby and never be the same again. Maintaining some semblance of the old routine will help immensely, even if it includes you in pajamas all week long. Don’t stress too much about a stringent routine, however (unless you have to). Once your newborn reaches about 3 months old or so, you’ll be in a fairly consistent routine without much effort.

Adding Another Baby Issue #3: Taking a Shower

Ahh, the little things in life, like brushing your teeth and showering, seem to get pushed aside when you add another baby to your family. It is difficult finding a way to shower when you have two kids to worry about. I know many moms who, when they had their second child, didn’t shower until their husbands came home from work, and by then, they were so tired they often fell asleep instead!

Solution:

Don’t give up sleep to take a shower, if you can help it! Park your newborn in a bouncy seat or other type of baby seat and sit them next to the shower. (Bonus: If they’re suffering from a stuffy nose (and all newborns seem to have some nasal issues), the steam from the shower may help clear up their nose!) Do this while your older child naps, or while they’re safely in another room. Or, bring your older child into the shower with you. (Bug hated the shower until I tried this with him when Bean was a newborn. I told him it was raining in the bathtub and he thought it was the coolest thing ever.)

Adding Another Baby Issue #4: Making Your Older Child Feel Loved

This was such a huge issue for us, as it is for any parent adding a sibling to rock their older child’s world. You don’t want your child to feel left out or replaced, but you also want to spend lots of time snuggling with your newborn. Fortunately, you can do both, and do them well.

Solution:

We started doing little things to include Bug well before Bean was born. We let him help put her crib together, I let him “feed” my belly button to give her some food, we let him put diapers on his teddy bears, etc. After she was born, Turk stayed home for a week, which was awesome. He spent lots of good quality time with me, the grandparents, and friends. Your older child doesn’t necessarily want toys and things to feel love, they want you, and they want to feel included. Don’t freak out every time they come near the baby. Instead, make it a point to include them in baby things. Let them kiss the baby, hold the baby (with your help of course), have them hand you wipes when you change the baby. Remind your older child how important they are as the big brother/sister and how appreciative you are for them help. And make a big deal out of it any time they try to help (even if it isn’t really that helpful and creates more of a mess), “Oh my goodness, honey, I could not have done this without your help, thank you so much!”Look for ways they can help you too, like putting laundry in the basket or throwing diapers away. If they aren’t in the mood to help, don’t push the subject.

Adding Another Baby Issue #5: Dealing With Sibling Jealousy

I was terrified that Bug was going to be jealous of Bean and try to show his jealousy through hitting or acting out. Sure enough, immediately after we brought Bean home, he started acting nuts. No, I take that back, he started acting nuts while we were still in the hospital. My guess is that it was a mix of excitement and jealousy over this new little person who was taking everyone’s attention, but Bug acted like I had never seen him act before. He was screaming, running, and not listening. He was aggressive and defiant. He was a handful. The thing I didn’t expect was that he was mean to me, not to Bean. He hit me, he spat at me, for a time, he acted like I was the worst person he had ever met. It made me so sad.

Solution:

The most important thing we did in dealing with sibling jealousy was to recognize that his actions were directly a result of Bean’s birth. While he did go to timeout for things that required timeouts, and he was scolded for other actions, we were slightly more lenient on him (both from sleep deprivation and because we understood how he was feeling). To deal with his jealousy, we spent more time with him. I made a concerted effort to spend one-on-one time with Bug while someone else took care of Bean. My dad stayed with us off and on for a couple of weeks to help out, and the time he spent taking Bug to McDonald’s or the Children’s Museum helped immensely as well. Turk would get home from work, say hello and kiss Bean and me, and grab Bug to wrestle with him, one of Bug’s favorite Daddy games. In the end, the jealousy only lasted a few weeks before he got over it.

Adding Another Baby Issue #6: Your Marriage

I don’t know if this happened with anyone else, but after Turk and I had Bug, we had a while where our relationship was a bit strained. Not that we ever spoke the “D” word, but we found ourselves bickering and arguing over the dumbest things, mostly related to parenting and taking care of our new baby. This, along with me not wanting him to touch me, let alone have sex, led to some unexpected tension between us. Your marriage still isn’t baby proof when #2 comes along, but fortunately, the adjustment will be easier.

Solution:

Talk, talk, talk. Tell your spouse how you’re feeling, if you’re stressed, if you think you might have PPD or the Baby Blues. Tell him that you still love him so much, even if you don’t quite feel up to having sex yet. Tell him what you need from him, don’t make him guess. Say, “Honey, I know you want to do other things with me, but it would make me feel so wonderful if you could just massage my shoulders,” or “Babe, I know you’re probably tired from work, but I have had a very difficult day with the baby and dealing with tantrums, is there any way you could do a load of laundry and the dishes?” Plan dates, even if it means popcorn, a movie, and a glass of wine after the kids are asleep. Just don’t neglect your marriage. Here are some other tips on how to Bring Back the Romance After Your Baby Arrives.

Things to remember after your baby arrives:

• It will take time to adjust to your new life.
• It’s okay if you aren’t head-over-heels for your newborn… you will be once you get to know each other.
• If you feel like you have PPD, seek help. Your doctor is not going to take your baby away or call you a bad mom. (Don’t wait until your baby is 8 months old, like I did.)
• Don’t worry about your older child’s TV time. They’re going to watch too much TV for a while, and that’s okay.
• Don’t worry about making gourmet healthy meals. So long as you’re all fed, pizza, takeout, and grilled cheese sandwiches are A.O.K.
• Give yourself a break. It is difficult parenting more than one child. Call or email a friend who can sympathize, and vent your little heart out.
• You are NOT alone. Write “I am not alone” on a sticky note above the coffee maker, on your calendar, tattoo it on your hand, but always remind yourself that you are not alone.

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The magic month for me was around month five after Bean was born. Suddenly, I was able to get the kids on the same nap schedule. Suddenly, Bean wasn’t so tiny and fragile and Bug could interact with her more. Suddenly, I felt like a human again. It was glorious.

I hope I didn’t scare anyone off with these things that may happen when you add another baby to your family. The truth is, that while the first few months kinda suck, the older the kids get, the more I am immensely grateful that Bug and Bean have each other. Watching them grow up together has been such an incredible blessing. They are constantly kissing each other, tickling each other, laughing, hugging, and wrestling. Sure, they get into some arguments over toys or space on Mommy’s lap, but these things are normal, and very temporary. When Bug hands Bean his last cracker and says, “Here, I share!” or when Bean snuggles her head into her brother’s shoulder when she’s sleepy, I cannot imagine life with out my beautiful children.

Congrats to your new addition, and when things get rough, just remember, “This too shall pass.” One day, we’re going to be 80 years old, sitting on rocking chairs with our great-grand babies in our laps saying, “Oh, I miss those crazy days when my kids were babies.”

I have had this blog floating around in my head for quite some time now, unsure of when or how to post it. With the impending presidential election and the subsequent hot button issues being hashed over repeatedly, I figure now is a better time than any. I don’t intend for my blog to touch on a whole lot of controversial topics, but I feel like I need to get this out there. So, be prepared for this blog, as the subjects I touch on will be abortion and same-sex marriage. I think that what I’m about to say may surprise even my closest friends!

Alright, let’s just get this out there: I am Pro-Choice.*

Allow me to explain the purpose behind the asterisk.

As for myself, my morals, and my beliefs, I am Pro-Life. I cannot fathom a situation where I would choose to abort my child. I know what a blessing children are, and I am in a stable, loving relationship where I know I can nurture and raise wonderful children. For me, abortion is not okay. For me, it is killing a life. The second I saw each of my little baby’s heartbeats on that ultrasound, I knew that life existed long before a baby was even shaped. For me, I am Pro-Life.

But it is not up to me, or anyone else to tell a woman what is right for her. It is not up to the government to tell a woman who has been the victim of rape or incest that she must carry that child to term. It is not up to the government to decide what actions a woman takes with her body.

I know a handful of women who have had abortions. I also know that they grieve the loss of their child even decades later. I know that they wonder constantly, “What if.” If you are willing to have an abortion, you have to also be willing to live with the “What ifs” that will plague you for the rest of your life. But ultimately, that is the woman’s decision. Not mine, not yours, not the government. As far as the government’s involvement in a woman’s body is concerned, I am very much Pro-Choice.

Okay, that wasn’t so bad, was it? On to the next topic.

I am For Same-Sex Marriage*

Again, with an asterisk.

For me, for myself, my morals, my beliefs, I would not marry a woman. But who am I to decide that it isn’t okay for two people who love each other to get married? People constantly bring up the Bible in this situation and claim that a union between two same-sex individuals is wrong. Maybe so. But doesn’t the Bible also say in Matthew 7:1, “Do not judge, or you will be judged?” Who am I to judge a gay couple? Where do I get off acting like I am better than them because I’m heterosexual? As far as I’m concerned, homosexuality and same-sex marriage is between those individuals and God. God never asked me to point fingers or blame. As a matter of fact, I think He said quite the opposite when He said in the Ten Commandments, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Not only did He place this Commandment in His list of rules to live by, He also said to love your neighbor was one of the absolute most important of all of the Commandments (second only to “love the Lord”)! God didn’t say, “Love your neighbors as yourself… unless they’re gay.” Nor did he say, “Love your neighbors as yourself… unless they don’t act the way you think they should.” No. He just said to love them, because He loves them.

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It’s funny to me, when I get into conversations about gay marriage or abortion with fellow moms, they assume certain things about me. It is assumed that because I am a married woman, a Christian, and a mother, that I am against abortion and gay marriage. What’s interesting to me is that these factors in my life have made me even more open minded to gay marriage and abortion. Being pregnant is hard, giving birth sucks, and I couldn’t imagine being forced to decide whether I should keep my child or give it up for adoption. So, if a woman feels that her only choice is to abort her baby, then let her do it. Chances are, she’ll learn a lot about herself afterward and realize exactly what it means to have to live with such a serious decision. And as far as same-sex marriage? Some of the coolest, most generous, and loving people I know just so happen to be homosexual. What the heck is wrong with adding more love to the world, where there is otherwise so much hurt?

There’s my two cents on those hot topics. I’d love to hear your points of view. No judgment here, whether you believe strongly one way or another. I realize that my views are slightly contradictory, but that’s just the way I am.