Friday, October 24, 2014

26 Weeks!

So, I'm 26 weeks now!  And according to the internet the average weeks twins are born is 35, which is only NINE WEEKS AWAY.  Eight weeks and a few days if we're being technical, which we should be because holy f-ing shit Batman, eight weeks in having a baby land is VERY, VERY SOON.  I mean, that's December 20th people.  DECEMBER 20TH!  (all caps because THAT'S HOW MY BRAIN IS SHOUTING RIGHT NOW)  

I, however, have decided they will not be born until at least January 5th.  A solid 37 weeks.  That is what is happening.  Don't you dare try to tell me otherwise, or this pregnant lady will cut a bitch.

26 weeks!

Also, I am surrounded by very kind people who keep telling me I look good, and don't even look pregnant with twins, which is very nice of them.  But I have a feeling they might be saying that due to things like the previous "I will cut a bitch" statement, because I am a lot bigger than I was pregnant with just one.

For comparison here's me (again) at 26 weeks with the twin boys...

26 with twins

And then here's me at 39 weeks with Tula.

Same size at 39 weeks!  What!

I feel big.  Which is fine.  I wanna be big.  Fat babies are happy babies.  That's science.

I'll be big as long as these boys get their feet out of my ribs.  That is not a comfortable place to house your feet Matt and Damon!  I swear it's like they're trying to backwards climb out through my throat.  And despite the fact I'm not thrilled about the two of them coming out through my (extremely unrecognizable at this point) vagina either (not that I would 'recognize' it.  I don't like, keep a photo album of it or anything, like some creepy prom porn movie beginning.  I just mean, things are weird down there), I'd much rather them come out the normal way than try to figure out an alternate route.

Addie is scared about it too!

Last hike I'll probably be on until next summer.  I've benched myself from hiking due to babies spreading my pelvis!  Yay bodies!

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Forget Chick Flicks, Bring On The Horror (As Long As It's Not That Scary. I'm Not A Robot)

I've been reading this book lately that is very good, and would normally make me really tense and scared because it's all abduction and ransom and how are they gonna escape???, except I'm not.  I can shockingly read it before bed and fall asleep just fine.  (And this from the girl who once got so scared from a Halloween episode of Facts of Life she didn't sleep for MONTHS.) (Literally, months.) (Blair was so scary.)

Anyway, I was wondering what has changed to harden me so.  I mean, I can even watch The Walking Dead while eating lunch like it ain't no thang.  And then it hit me.  As I yelled myself hoarse.

I have become a master threatener, negotiator, and sneaker upper on-er.  With a three year old I spend the majority of my day saying things like, "If you don't _____, I'm going to take away your ____."

"I mean it.  Do what I said now, or I will ____ your _____."

"Do you want me to start counting?  Let me answer that, you do NOT want me to start counting young lady.  You.  Do.  Not."

And my favorite:

**no words at all.  just the look.  THE look.**  this one is reserved for especially strategic situations.

Not only that but I have seen so much blood, puke, pee, and poop, toys and pencils and forks stuck in the wrong places that fictional stuff is kids play.

The other day I even wiped blood off of Addie's leg and licked it off my hand because I didn't want to wipe it on my pants and who has time to find a napkin?!

The good news is, although they've hardened me, they've also made me all gooey and doughy on the inside because of their ridiculously cute mother f-ing faces!!!  ARGH I just want to eat them off!

The other day I made homemade playdough.  Tula was so excited, she even put her call on hold.

Pretending she didn't eat it.  Like a sneaky little angel.

For some reason when I give the girls smoothies they go running to the front door.  Like weird little puppies.

The couch would be more comfortable girls.

The other day Addie requested a tattoo.  Of her father.

I think I have a new career ahead of me.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

It's Only A Matter Of Time

So, if you've ever been pregnant you know there comes this terrifying moment, midst all the bliss of course, and by "bliss" I mean peeing my pants when I laugh, when you realize you are going to have to actually push the baby(ies) out of your body.  OUT.  BY PUSHING.

Pushing babies out of a very small opening is going to happen.  And it's gonna happen to you.  If there's no pushing, that's because you're going to have abdominal surgery.  That's it.  Those are your two options.  You can't suddenly decide to be the first person to beam your baby(ies) out of your belly.  Mainly because the government hasn't released that kind of technology yet, and you know they can do it.  I mean, if they can put people on the moon, and out to space stations where they just float around fixing things and then get hit by meteor showers and wind up using a fire extinguisher and the ghost of George Clooney to make it back into Earth's orbit and safely onto some mysterious Asian beaches they can surely beam something!  (Space is so scary!)

And so that's where I am folks.  Terrified that these babies are gonna come out one way or another.  And I should be less scared because I've already done it twice, but I'm not because I've already done it twice.  Mama knows what's about to happen, and it's some serious shit.  But more than that I've done it twice, with one.  Just the one.  If it were one again I'd be all, "Eh, bring it on pansies!" But two.  TWO.

I expressed this concern to Josh and in the middle of me saying, "I mean, I know what it feels like to do one.  The second that baby is out it's the best feeling in the world!  That's it, nothing else hurts or is scary because there's the baby!"

He said, "Well the great news is that you get one out and you get to experience the whole thing all over again just a few minutes later."

And that's when I got all high-pitched Monica and squealed, "I KNOW!" and then threatened to punch him in the face with the ice cream scooper I was holding.

Anyway, in other news my mom knows how much Addie loves Elsa, and how much she values long hair (I'm constantly being asked if mine will get long soon), and so she crocheted this awesome hat/hair thing for her!  It has been so exciting she wears it the second she wakes up until the minute she has to go to bed.  Except in public.  Most of the time.  We can't ruin all the Halloween fun!

Elsa hair!

Naked Elsa!

Tula's also trying out some Halloween stuff.

Pumpkin patch cute!

Addie crushing in one of the hay mazes like the hulk.
(Luckily this one was free of crawling children inside)

You can't really tell but Josh spent about a solid hour scooping up hay and raining it down on our children, our nephew, and any other kids that came within a five foot radius of him.  I'm still finding hay in weird places.

Thursday, October 9, 2014

It's Not What It Sounds Like

So, it turns out Addie has GATES.  We're taking it pretty hard, but trying to keep up a brave face and not let it disrupt our normal lives.  I mean, at first we were like, "What's GATES?  What are we going to do?  Is it contagious?!"  But once we learned more about it, we realized though horrible, this is something we can learn to cope with.  It might be a struggle, but how are we ever going to enjoy the good parts of life without the hard?  We can adjust and persevere and make it through anything!

Before you all go crazy googling GATES, lemme just explain it for you:

I have no idea what GATES actually is.

All I know is that Addie will sometimes walk morosely around the yard, the saddest look on her face, put her head in her hands, and when I say, "Honey come on inside for dinner," she'll respond:

"Mom.  I can't come inside.  I have GATES."  And then she'll show me her hands.  As if this clears it all up.

I finally managed to figure out that GATES is something Elsa from Frozen gets.  And then after a lot more sleuthing I discovered it's this part of the movie when she's in shackles, that is what Addie calls "having GATES".

So, now my very drama-y little three year old finds ways to dramatically trap her hands somewhere and be sad about it.  We went to the museum the other day and when we were playing in the outside garden part she found a chain on a fence and wrapped them around her hands and yelled, "Moooooom!  I'm stuck!  Someone help me!"  I of course ignored her, being the ever-caring mom I am, but a very enthusiastic museum employee ran over to her practically shouting, "HANG ON LITTLE GIRL!  I'm gonna get you out!" and then was totally confused when she started crying after he freed her from the non-binding contraption.

"You shouldn't have done that," I said shaking my head.  "Now she's gotta have GATES for at least another 20 minutes before we can go.  Thanks a lot."

"I'm sorry?" he said.  "Should I. . . chain her back up?"

"If you want the crying to stop you should."

Here she is in the car, disassembling her car seat for the perfect GATES.

Happily shackled.

Some people's children like to pretend they're princesses, mine only does if that princess is in some sort of tragic turmoil.  Her real life is just too happy, she has to counter it with some very dismal playtime.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Or The Scratchy Side of Velcro Sweater

Do you ever wish you had a sweater made out of pine cones?


Then clearly you have never had a weird pregnancy side effect like excessively itchy skin for no good reason.  Lots of people get itchy bellies because, hello, that stuff is stretching to an inhuman level (also, where do all your insides go?  I mean. . . WHERE DO THEY GO?!  And if they're that movable, how do they not just get all tangled up with each other?  Why isn't my stomach always sorta bonking into my liver and then getting all hugged by my intestines and I mean if a baby can come out how come we're not pooping out a kidney half the time! (Trust me, I understand why in reality, I got an A+ in Anatomy, but still, in my pregnant head it all seems so squishy.  Fifty percent more blood volume?!  WHERE DOES THE BLOOD COME FROM?!) (I know, I know, bone marrow or something, but still - no.) The human body is so fucking weird!  A sperm and an egg make a person that grows inside of another person that then is born through an opening the size of a thumb nail and then proceeds to survive for like more than HALF A YEAR on milk that comes from BOOBS.  I mean. . . that is crazy black magic.  And don't even get me started on space.  Never ending?  But where does it end?! I know it doesn't end, but seriously, I am not smart enough to be ok with that like on a level where I actually understand it.  I mean, I understand it, but still . . . space?!  IT'S SO BIG.) (Sorry, I just got back from the planetarium.)

What was I saying?

Oh, yeah.  So itchy, stretchy skin.  Ok, my belly doesn't get itchy but when I was pregnant with Tula the part on my arm that's on the opposite side of my elbow - what's that, the crook of your arm?  I think it's the crook.

This part.

Well, that part got really itchy when I was pregnant with Tula, like to the point where I would put ice cubes up in there and walking around like I had to hold my shoulders or they'd fall off until they were all melted.

But with the double pregnancy my back is now so itchy last night I dreamed I had a sweater made of pine cones so that I could just wiggle around and scratch myself whenever I wanted.  Oh god I want that sweater so bad.

Other weird side effects this pregnancy:

- having to wear Josh's underwear because women's underwear are so uncomfortable I'm pretty sure they use them in torture rooms

- saying whatever is on my mind because I'm too pregnant to have a filter.  I'm trying really hard to filter, but sometimes when you're ridiculously pregnant you don't stop yourself from telling the girl at Target she has really cute feet.  Cute feet?  I don't even like feet!

- liking feet

- wanting to eat all the pineapple in the world

- treating sores in your mouth for a week and a half because ate all the pineapple in the world

- wanting to pull your sleeping three year old into bed with you at 3am because she's so dang cute when she's sleeping

- not thanking your partner for not letting you pull your three year old into bed with you even though it was totally the right decision

- really fast growing nails

Aside from a lot of uncomfortable things on my body we had lots of fun things this past week!  

One was I'm 24 weeks now!

Here's 23 weeks, because I fogot last week.

And 24 weeks!  The maternity shirts almost don't fit anymore.  Josh's clothes here I come!

Also, we had a lot of family visiting last week!  First my Aunt Mary and Uncle Scott came for a few days, and it was so good to see them!  The day before they came it was like 80 degrees, and then we took them on a hike and it snowed.  Because, this is Montana.  We like snow.

You can't really tell from this but it was really coming down, and about four minutes after I took this there were no more green trees, everything was white.

Also, totally got photo bombed by creeping hiker.
Just kidding, that's my uncle.
I hope.

Best hiking buddy ever.

Love her so much!

And her.  And him. 

Hi little peeker!

Then when they left Auntie Amy came into town!  And all three of her nieces and nephews went to go have a sleepover with her!

They all slept in one bed.

Except for Tula, who got banished to the dog cage.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

22 Weeks

So I'm 22 weeks and cannot imagine how there is 18 more weeks to go.  My crotch thinks that is a cruel and funny joke.

Everyone keeps asking me if I'm craving anything, and I'm really not.  Except coffee.  Like, I cannot think of anything better than a delicious cup of coffee with half and half.  Unfortunately this is a horrible craving to have when you're pregnant.  Right behind smoking pot and riding horses.  Apparently these things are "frowned upon" when you're pregnant.  I'm pretty sure Pocahontas rode a horse and she was very pregnant on that Lewis & Clark thing, so what do you think of that medical professionals!  I'm gonna go eat a brownie.

Just kidding, but I am gonna go eat about fourteen of these.  Because these are what I'm craving right now.

Then comes Christmas trees, which you have to stock up on until April when they have Easter Eggs and then it's a looooooong dry spell until Halloween again.  I am not kidding when I say I have run into my mother-in-law, like a thief in the night, both of us sneaking around the grocery store holding an entire shelf of those Reese's, both of us wearing all black, tip toeing around as if we're quiet about it, no one will notice we're buying an insane amount of holiday candy.  We'll kind of nod to each other and pretend we didn't see the other one, addicts in an alleyway after an NA meeting, because no one wants to admit they're buying that many of anything.

Except that they're SO GOOD.  Go buy some.  Eat three in a row.  Feel really sick.  Vow never to eat another one again.  Wait a few hours.  Eat three more.  Fall asleep from sugar coma.  Repeat.

Also, we've been having really nice summer-turning-to-fall weather, and the good thing about living in a place with 13 months of winter is that you tend to take full advantage of the few days of warmth.  The little girls are no exception.

Loving the Bozeman beach.  

Just became aware the water is the temperature of frozen ice.
Yeah, frozen.

Yes, they take a bath in sunscreen before their skin sees sunlight.  Tula glows.


Resting on our hike.

AH! I want to eat her face off!

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Things I Won't Miss About Being Pregnant. Not Listed: Not Being Able To See My Downstairs - I Just Like To Make Sure Its Still There Sometimes

I'd be a total liar if I said I was going to miss being pregnant.  The other two times I was pregnant I knew I wasn't done yet.  I knew there would (hopefully) be another time, but now that we're rounding out our family to a hearty size 6, I'm sure.  We're done.  And that doesn't make me sad the way I thought it would.  It's so weird because they say you know when your family is complete you feel it, and when we just had Addie we worshipped her, but knew we weren't finished yet.  And when we had Tula, again we were like - life is so amazing with her in it(!), but still a lingering ache for maybe one more.  And now that there's two coming, yeah.  That's good.  I feel it already.  We will be complete.  Even if they come out as alligators, like I keep dreaming they do, we will love those baby alligators and I will nurse their murdering little mouths until my boobs look like the end of a horror movie.

And yes, being pregnant is a wonderful miracle and I'm so happy I got to experience it, because it really is great.  But also, I'm not one of those women that glows when she's pregnant.  Instead I get excessively weird back sweat.  Also, have an insane urge to have the worst hair possible, in a time when my body is doing it's weirdest, and so I cut it all off despite a very strong remembrance of what I looked like in Jr. High.

Oh yeah. What up Alta Vista Elementary!
(I will post this whole picture later, but just so you know those heads right there are not some kids I was babysitting, but were in fact the heads of my best friends.  They didn't even reach my shoulders.  I was about 11 or 12 and six feet tall.  Here's my pants. . .)

I mean, they were like feet away from ending at my ankles.  Good thing big puffy socks were in.

21 weeks and the same hair as 6th grade.  *sigh*

It's like pregnancy makes me subconsciously want to look terrible so that I won't feel like a normal, attractive person in some sort of survival mechanism?  As if looking decent will inhibit my mothering?  Or being attractive to my lover is going to make me give the babies cigarettes for breakfast while he and I make out on the counter top?

Well, that actually could happen so it's a good thing I go to bed looking like this.

Also, I have to wear compression socks because of my painful varicose veins.  Like an 80 year old lady.  So, I'm not gonna miss that.  I'm looking forward to the day where I can wear sandals and shorts without looking like a pregnant hooker dressed as a Midwestern tourist in a European country.

Addie doing her best Chris Farley while I try desperately to get her to laugh.  Didn't work.  The woman is a brick wall sometimes.

I can smell everything.  Ever. Y. Thing.  This is great when I'm in a field of flowers, but when I'm not frolicking I'm gagging because I caught a whiff of baby puke Tula has been hiding under some teddy bears, or I'm considering getting a guest house for my baby daddy because he had chili for dinner.

I can't wear normal underwear because of the pressure of having two babies at once puts on my nether regions is akin to setting a bowling ball on your pelvis for months at a time, and undies cutting into my bikini line?  No thank you.  I'll be over here in the corner wearing Josh's boxer briefs like a normal person.  Anyone who says pregnancy brings the sexy back, clearly has NO IDEA WHAT THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT.  Either that or they are pregnant with a feather.

And my memory?  Well, I forgot what I was writing about about three times since I started this.  That and I continue to have no idea whether or not I've taken my pills seconds after I've taken them and sort of hold my throat to sense if something small has just been swallowed.  Like if I stay really still, and focus, I'll be in tune with my throat enough for it to reveal if I've just taken my prenatal or if I ate that chunk of Reese's Peanut Butter cups I found on my bathroom sink.

I could go on and on, but my point is - I love my babies.  I'm so excited and already in love with these two new ones, but am I excited about being a non-pregnant version of me again?

Hell to the yes.

Except I will miss these boobs.  I love me some pregnant boobs.

Not that they're getting any attention (see above picture of nighttime me), but they're still a nice perk.

Two boys will be great, but for now, sisters are sort of the best thing ever.

I mean.  They both want to be dressed as Elsa.  All.  The.  Time.  Gosh darn that's cute.

We never dressed the same, but love each other just as much.  Maybe more, we've had longer to love each other.