Jams And Juice

Tula is talking up a storm lately, and she's practicing all the time.  Yesterday during nap time, she was so chatty she kept Addie awake while she yelled:

"Mommy, Daddy NO WAY."

*brief pause*

"Babies!  Dollies!  Babies dollies? Uhm. . . nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn-o."

*pause. ruckus.  am assuming she's knocking down the dry wall*

"Change you? Acky.  Gwoss!"

*was not drywall.  she ripped her changing pad off the changing table and is pretending to change her own dirty diaper*

"Witch.  Sophia witch.  Addie?  WITCH."

*no response from Addie who is smartly ignoring the screaming lunatic*

"Addie?  Blankie.  Addie blankie?  NO!  Mommy, Daddy blankie.  No way!"

*loud rustling. sounds vaguely like she's playing with packing peanuts.  still not sure what that noise was.  would not put it past her to have hidden a crate of packing peanuts for play somewhere in her crib*

"NIGH NIGH!"

*and she's out*

Oh man she's hysterical.

Also, we've been having GLORIOUS weather.  Like flip flops and tank tops.  It's making everyone happy even the babies!

Still have to wear bear suits even with the warm weather.  Because they're babies.  And because the bear suits ARE SO CUTE.

I mean, stop.  That's too much.

(Also, Hammer Time.)

Addie is thrilled to be in Target with her helmet on.

\

You never know when the cart might tip over.  Always be safe.

\

They love jams and juice.

(Jams and Juice is the name of my hip hop album)

8 Weeks Old Today!

And the boys celebrated by dressing up.

Love. It. So. Much.

They've started to be awake more, which is wonderful because stuff like this happens - 

The elusive double smile!  

Usually they only give this to the ceiling fan, but clearly they wanted me to have the best morning ever!

Those moments are amazing, and make up for the times they're both screaming at me and pooping on me and screaming at me some more and oh yes, more pooping on me.

Even with all that, they really are wonderful babies.  They are cuddly and darling and gaining weight, and really at 8 weeks old that's about the gist of it.  I tried to get them to teach me chess but Luke was all, "Aaahh cooo," and I was like "I can't understand you with that pacifier in your mouth." And Henry was all, "Galbarggah," and I was all "A pawn cannot do that. Wait a minute, do you even know what you're talking about?" And then Luke puked in his own ear and I was like, "Ok, well now you're making no sense."  And Henry started crying like a baby and so I threw up my hands, "Ok fellas, let's call it a night.  This is getting us nowhere."

Babies.  They don't know how to play chess AT ALL.

Labor And Delivery Part 2

So, where were we?

Oh, yes.  Dr. Positive About Everything broke my water.

I call her that because when we found out we were having twins, she was like, "How great!  You'll be fine!" and then when we found out it was two boys she was all, "I have two boys!  Boys are fantastic!  You'll be fine!" and when we found out Baby B was breech she was like, "No problem!  I'll just reach up in there and guide him out.  Easy.  You'll be fine!"

I don't know about you but the thought of a grown woman's arm all up in your uterus doesn't seem easy or fine at all.  It seems about as easy and fine as getting a tattoo on your eyeball.  But because Dr. Positive About Everything is so wonderfully positive about everything, and I catch enthusiasm like kindergartners catch lice, I was all, "Oh great!  You'll just reach up there?  HOW FUN!  This will be no problem!" and then I bounced out of the office like she just told me ice cream is now a food group.

(And that's why I love my doctor. Because I needed someone positive like that when I was about to have four kids under four. I needed all the positivity I could get. And I also needed someone totally cool with the fact that she may or may not be entering my body with half of hers. I dont know where you're from, but in my neck of the woods if a person is going to have instruments and body parts in my hoo-ha I want her to not be angry about it!)

Most people reacted with total horror when I told them the plan, but I was enthusiastic remember? So, I was all, "No, no it's fine.  Because of the guiding. . . she's just gonna . . . guide him . . . it'll be . . . there's gonna be a gentle guide. . . there will be guiding."


Anyway!  We stayed positive.

And then my water broke, and I could tell immediately my body was ready.  And still I was positive. And they started the smallest amount of pitocin. Ten minutes later they brought in the anesthesiologist (oh my god I just spelled that correctly without spell check! I kept waiting for it to be squiggly underlined in red, but no! my day is made.) because even though I was totally against an epidural, my doctor and everyone I talked to gently pressured me into getting one.  You know.  Because of the guiding.

So, I got the dreaded epidural from the nicest man ever.  Seriously, he was so calm and reassuring I almost asked him to stay and talk me through some Walking Dead episodes, because that shit is scary.

During that whole thing I started having some painful contractions but nothing serious.  We were told now was the time to rest.  Perhaps I should take a nap.  Maybe Josh would like some coffee.  Just sit back and wait, this is the easy part they said.  So, that's what we did.  Josh left to get some coffee, the nurse left to do something, and I sat in bed wondering if I should go get my book.

And then, one minute after everyone left me I started having horrible, the-babies-are-coming contractions about thirty seconds apart, and guess what wasn't working???

MY EPIDURAL.

Josh heard me screaming from down the hall and came running (because he's my wonderful), and then I started yelling, "Get the nurse I'm going to push!" so he headed out and I screamed, "DON'T LEAVE ME!" so he grabbed my hand and I growled, "GO GET THE NURSE I NEED TO PUSH!" and he started to leave and I yelled, "HOLD MY HAND!!!" and then "OH GOD GET THE DOCTOR!"

Somehow he pried himself loose from my death grip and ran into the hall and the nurse and the doctor came back in with him, and then everything went into hyper drive.

I just want to take a little break to let you all know, from the time I had the epidural to the time both babies were out was twenty nine minutes.

TWENTY NINE MINUTES.

FOR TWO BABIES.

So, everyone is flailing around, people are helping that aren't even supposed to help, someone who was just volunteering ended up helping push my bed down the hall, everyone is running around, the anesthesiologist comes in and start pushing meds as fast as he can, meanwhile I'm like, "I have to push I'm sorry!"

I just kept saying I'm sorry because I get very apologetic when I'm in labor apparently.

And then we're out of my room about five whole seconds, on our way to the OR when I realize this is it, it's happening. And time slows down and I have about seven hundred separate thoughts:  I'm in the hallway and I'm about the have the babies.  No one is even going to know because I'm covered in a sheet.  Everyone, including that woman delivering meals is about to see me poop.  What if they just come tumbling out, I'll have to catch one.  Josh needs to let go of my hand so I can catch this baby because he's falling out.  I'll have to find a way to clamp the cord myself, and check the placenta.  Maybe I'll save it and bury it and plant a tree on top.  How will I swaddle him, I don't have any blankets?  What's the apgar scale again?  Shit, I should have paid more attention in school.  I can't even remember what the capital of Delaware is.  My boys will know all the capitals.  And where foreign places are.  I have no idea where all the foreign lands are.  Maybe once I chew this cord and make a papoose from some sticks I'll move to a foreign country.  Turks or maybe Caicos.  This fucking hurts so fucking bad why won't anyone get this fucking baby out of me.  Dover!  Oh my gosh the capital of Delaware is Dover!  Am not totally useless after all!  Oh, I'm so alone and apparently I am under the impression because I'm not in a room I will have to do everything myself and that clearly doesn't make sense but no one needs me to make sense right now because

OH MY GOD THE HEAD IS OUT SOMEBODY HELP ME!

And that's how Luke came out.

In the hallway.

Eh, it wasn't that big of a deal Mom.  I mean, so I couldn't wait to join you, look how cute I am.

Fine.  You're right.  You can be born wherever you like little Luke.  I love you so much!

Coming soon: Part 3.  Henry shows up!

And By "Tomorrow" I Mean Tomorrow-Tomorrow

It's either stay up and write Part II or go get in bed in my completely quiet, dark house and drink some wine and read my book for five minutes before falling asleep with donut crumbs stuck all over me.

Guess which one is winning?

In the meantime, please enjoy this photo of Tula.

Decisions were made.  She was not thrilled with herself after she chose to smear instead of eat the cupcake.

And this one of Adeline.

Valentine's Day darling.

More

Part two of the Labor and Delivery Saga coming tomorrow, I promise!

But for now, here's just some pictures of the twins being super cute.  They're 7 weeks old already!  I mean, shut the front door.  I just had them!  But also they've been here forever.  They are chunky and darling and snuggly and best friends.  

Whenever I lay them down on the couch together, they always wind up linking arms or holding hands.  

IT'S LIKE THEY KNOW THEY'RE PRECIOUS.  

Henry giving me a huge smile!  Made my day.

About to eat his face off.

Luke gets so busy talking he doesn't know whether he's telling me a story or laughing.  He's such a card.

STOP!  I want to eat you!

Adeline is very helpful when I'm burping the babes.  She's all up in our biz all the time.  I love it.

From Yesterday

Yesterday I was not a good mom.

Most days I like to think I'm pretty good.  That I'm doing an ok job.  I'm happy, the kids are happy, everyone has been fed and no one has been sitting in poop for more than a few minutes.  Those are good things.  Most days I love what I'm doing, I adore all four kids, and I can't imagine not having them in my life.  Most days I can successfully take all four to Target, Costco, the mall, the museum, the library, or the park all by myself and we have a good time.  Yes, my house is messier than I'd like, and yes although I do laundry every day it doesn't necessarily get put away that same day (or week), but eh.  It's just for a short time.  It's just until these little suckers get old enough to do chores and then I'll have my own little Annie orphanage of sorts to put to work!  And yes, the only free time I have is an hour in the afternoon when they're all asleep at the same time (if I'm lucky), and an hour after everyone goes to sleep at night which means I'm up waaaaaay later than I want to be, but that's ok because I need that hour.  And it's all ok because most days, I can handle it and feel really great about where we are right now.  I'm lucky.

But not yesterday.

Yesterday I was not a good mom.

Yesterday I lost my temper, I screamed back, I let them see my I-want-to-sell-you-to-gypsies-face.  I gave in when they wanted candy so the screaming would stop.  I put on movies so they'd give me a few minutes of quiet.  I yelled when they yelled.  I threw tantrums right along with them.  I cried when they cried.  I grit my teeth, I said "Because I said so", I literally threw something across the house because I was so sick of getting hit with it.  I did not hold my shit together very well.

Not all day obviously.  There were nice moments.  There were still hugs, and kisses, and stories that got read, and songs that got sung, and puzzles that got put together, and everyone got some sort of meal, and baths were had.  And I told them I loved them.  So many times.

But for the most part I do not feel good about yesterday.

But I am also ok with that.

Out of the last six weeks of having four teeny tiny kids I can count on one hand the amount of significantly bad times we've had.  And that's including these last two weeks of having five out of the six of us be super sick.

And I'd say those are pretty good odds.  I'd say that's downright pretty great.

It doesn't mean yesterday doesn't feel bad.  It does.  It's lingering in my mouth like a bad taste, it's clouding my thoughts a little this morning.  But I'm pushing it aside, and telling myself - that's ok.  Yesterdays happen.  You are doing a great job.

Repeat after me: your kids are alive and you love them - you are doing a great job.

And today will be better.

Today I will be a better mom.

Labor and Delivery Part 1

Sorry it's taken so long!  The babies are five and a half weeks old already!  I'm not sure how that happened so fast, I feel like I was just in the hospital with a grown woman's arm all up in me (Oh my god, ALL up in there) (Like if I birth a watch later we'll know where it came from.) (more on that later), and now I have the all clear to exercise and have sex already!

Not that either of those are going to happen because the way I get pregnant I'll be doing sit ups and Josh will text me and I'll get pregnant.  Instead, we will from here on out express our love with high fives and sexy winks.  Because four kids are amazing, truly, I cannot tell you how in love I am with these little boys!  But also, four kids is enough.  So we're going on the pill, the diaphragm, condoms, foam, the female condom, the depo shot, a nicotine patch, and a vasectomy.

Not that you needed to know all that, but there you go!  I will literally have a drugstore in my vagina.

Ok, on to the babies!

Oh, how miserable I was those last few week.

This is me the day before I had the babies.  

Not even gonna pretend.

I'm not typically a I-need-my-mommy type of a person.  I mean I talk to her on the phone every day and of course I need her, but I'm also INCREDIBLY stubborn and independent and hate to be told what to do, so I need her but I don't usually need her to come in help me because the inner three year old in me always says, "No!  I'll do it myself!"  But a few days after Christmas I was so uncomfortable, and unable to move or do anything that I called my mom crying and begged her to get on a plane that second.  Which she did without question.  Because she is my mom.  A superhero.

And I thought I was going to have the babies any second.  And then she was here for two weeks and the babies still were not here!  Those boys were hanging on with all their might, much to the shock of everyone.  Even the doctor who checked me was like, "I don't think we'll see you again."  But of course I saw them.  I walked around four centimeters dilated and at zero station (head is pretty much out) for a LONG time.  Usually when you're that progressed you're in the hospital screaming in pain, but my body was all, Nah.  Let's just slowly eek these suckers out and test Amy's will to live.

I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I really couldn't even breathe without being uncomfortable especially with the PUPPS rash taking over my body in a cruel form of torture on someone full term pregs with two massive boys.

You get it.  Mama wasn't happy.

I know I'm smiling, but that's only so I won't cry in front of Addie.  Again.

So, anyway - Friday Jan 9th I went into the hospital to get a test done to make sure things were ok in there.  I was sure we were leaving.  I was sure we were going home and I'd be pregnant forever, but everyone else had other plans.

My doctor walked in and was like, "Hey!  Let's have these babies today!" and I immediately started shaking and sweating and hyperventilating.  Not because I didn't want to have them, but because I didn't want to have them.  Like, having babies is not easy and I sort of prefer not knowing things are about to get ridiculously painful, I'd rather just have it happen.  I also had a premonition it was going to be fast and furious and was not ready for the chaos.  But oh man I had no idea how fast or furious.

But luckily (?) I had Strep B this time and had to be on antibiotics for four hours before anything could happen so while I was getting that Josh and I chilled on my hospital bed and watched back to back episodes of Say Yes To The Dress.  Because he loves me.  And I was about to give him two sons so he can watch whatever I say he can watch!

(Just kidding, he secretly loves Say Yes To The Dress.  And So You Think You Can Dance.  And Teen Mom.)

And then, after those four hours flew by my doctor bounced in and announced she was going to break my water.  Easy!

And she did.

And that's when    shit.  got.  real.  ya'll.


But first!  Some pictures.

I took all four to the museum by myself!  Addie celebrated by growing eagle wings.

Baby boys loving each other.

Calm burritos listening to their dad sing inappropriate rap songs in the middle of the night.

Tula rocking the Elsa hair.

Henry getting his first taste of sunshine.

And Luke getting his.

Man I love them.