The End.

This morning I went to my third appointment regarding my stupid reproductive organs and the havoc they are wreaking often now.

The sad fact of the matter is that if I take birth control it will probably help a ton. I may have endometriosis and the only real way to tell is to have a minor, outpatient surgery. The doctor said it would be better to wait and do the surgery before I really wanted to try for another baby.

Sigh.

I really don't want to be on birth control. After all the time it took to get pregnant I don't want to close the door on the small, tiny little chance that I could just get knocked up by accident someday. We did really want three kids after all. I've been reading that the biggest regret women have later is that they didn't talk their husband into having that 2nd or 3rd or 10th baby that they really wanted. The sad part is that I wouldn't have to really talk my husband into it, he would love it! But I am infertile.

Infertility is defined as not achieving pregnancy after twelve months of well planned intercourse. I have birth control free for twelve months now. In all honesty, our sex has been either never planned or actually non-existent (I'm exhausted people, especially in the 4 months-10 months period). But that twelve month mark still bugs me so badly. I'm still infertile. I will not be that person who is fertile after IVF. I'm re-infertile. Another twelve months have passed.

There was a mirror in the room I was in and I caught a glimpse of myself. What I saw was Debbie Desperate. I just want to be normal with a normal chance of procreating like any normal, average individual. Here I am, nearly 5 years and 12 fertility treatments later, still trying to find what no one has found: a good reason for my infertility. Yes, I was diagnosed with PCOS but I ovulated with Clomid, injectibles and then on my own with Metformin and a good diet. Not a single one of my hormones are outside of normal range, even ones that should be from PCOS. Nothing is wrong with hubby. I am 27, 23 at the time of my first fertility appointment. It doesn't make sense and STILL I am trying to make sense of it.

Maybe this feels so bad all over again because I didn't grieve this situation for real. When I ran out of IUI's and came out of my haze we tried adopting. That didn't seem like it would work so we did IVF and I had a baby so I never shut the door on having babies again.

I could just do the surgery and then try on our own a few months, but I don't want to. I want it to be a non-part of our life. If it happens, it happens, if not, it doesn't. As long as I"m off birth control I can hold on to that little bit of hope and have no regrets. Birth control feels like I am admitting defeat and closing the door and I don't want to.

But I feel like a toddler who isn't getting their way. I"m not willing to do anything drastic about it (like "timed intercourse" or fertility treatments), but I'm also not willing to give up. Desperation. It's a yucky feeling. And truly, I only think about this when I'm thinking about it, if that makes sense. It doesn't consume me all the time like the old infertility did. The re-infertility makes me want to go to the doctor and find the answers and fix it but then I get lazy and just want to enjoy my two precious, hilarious, smart and exceptionally attractive children (ahem) and my life.

I got in the car and had a good cry. I think I will just get on birth control. That way I will close the door myself and it won't be lingering in the back of my mind. The end. That's it. I'm not going on this fool's errand anymore. I'm not going to miss work or be sick or unable to sleep at night for reproductive issues that will be helped by birth control or lupron (can't get preggo on that either and it makes a bitch crazy).

In theory. Wish me luck picking up my birth control tonight and not acting like a pansy.

Source: lesleyvmartinez.tumblr.com via Ashley on Pinterest

Seriously Thursday

Seriously . . . once your kid turns one stop counting their age by weeks. I don't want to hear that your kid is 77 weeks old. I'm bad at math. Let's keep it simple - either 18 months or a year and half. Thanks.

Seriously . . . I would love to watch some of this new fall TV but unfortunately I have two little TV nazi's in the house. As soon as they see the TV they start yelling "gabba! gabba!" and there is NO acceptance of anything else.

Seriously . . . what is with music these days? I heard the start to one song that went "am I better off dead?" and then the song about if I die young, my thoughts are worth so much more or whatever. What the hell? I like music to get me from one place to the next, I am so not interested in your suicidal thoughts. That's not entertaining. And really, I'm so over Lady Gaga. All her songs sound the same and her outfits are dumb.

Seriously . . . . my kids could not get any cuter. Since they were born we have been singing a lot. I have worked with young kiddos for awhile so I know lots of songs but when we run out I just sing about anything I see; spaghetti noodles, blue skies, cars, meth addicts, etc. Now Ocean and Ever love to sing and it is truly the cutest thing in the whole wide world! LOVE!

Seriously . . . whoever invented Pinterest clearly wants me to be fat, never work or pay attention to my husband because it's all I want to do!

The family that goes hot tubbin' together, stays together!

Twin Troubles

Having twins invites lots of very random and bizarre questions. This has never really bothered me that much, I know lots of twin moms get offended, I just don't. People are curious. So? I'm really, severely nosey so I know exactly where these people are coming from.

When people ask how we got them, no, it's not their business, but I get why people are compelled to ask. When you're walking around with twins you may as well stamp a sign on your forehead that says "I'm probably infertile! Ask me about it" The asking isn't the problem, it just sometimes hurts to be reminded of that so I suck it up.

Now we are faced with new issues.

The daycare facility that they attend is very excited to have twins in the building. All the little kids talk about it and it is very cute. This morning we walked in and I heard two little girls discussing which twin they liked more and which one was cuter.They are just kids and I know I can't protect them from everything, but I wish they would not ever hear things like that! Ocean and Ever are getting smarter and smarter and I know the day will come sooner than I think they they will be able to pick up on those things.

Beyond the kids, adults do it too in a different way. I have had teachers tell me several times how smart or advanced Ever is. In that immediate moment, I soak it all up. Every mama wants to know those things. Then I look down at Ocean staring up at me with those big beautiful brown eyes and wonder what he will think of this. One day will he compare himself and think that he is dumb or not good enough just because he is not the same as Ever? Vice versa, people do this to Ocean with his good looks. They will talk about him and how handsome he is and not say a word about Ever while she is standing right there.

This isn't due to vanity. I don't need people to comment on my kids all the time. This is about them feeling good about themselves and not comparing. Since they were born I've tried to remember they are twins, but they are also two individuals. People thought I was CRAZY to not get them on the same feeding schedule but I looked at my two babies and they are not the same. Ever is smaller than Ocean and I could not bring myself to overfeed her or underfeed him for my convenience (no offense if you did that). I just wanted them to function the way they are supposed to function as individuals (they mostly always wanted to eat around the same time anyway).

Now I'm in a catch 22. If they each have different talents that people recognize I want them to feel proud and special for what they can do. But at the same time, I never want one to have their feelings hurt trying to compare themselves to the other.

Will people stop doing that right in front of their faces? What is a mama to do?

Playing at the park!

5 Days as a Vegan

Hubby and I recently watched two documentaries (with Cliff's Notes in case you don't want to click the links):

1. Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead - overweight, sick man juices for 60 days and is extremely healthy and cures his autoimmune disease

2. Forks Over Knives - two doctors do extensive research and find out that plant based diets free of any animal product (meat, dairy, eggs) or processed foods can either greatly reduce or completely eliminate a variety of serious medical conditions including cancer and diabetes

We found both of these documentaries very interesting. I was particularly interested because PCOS may or may not be related to crappy eating habits.

I don't want anyone to do outright mean things to animals and I think hunting is kind of gross unless people are really and truly using all parts of the animal, but I do believe that's it's okay for us to eat animals. We are mammals and there are lots of mammals who have a diet that consists almost entirely of meat. BUT - these documentaries did present a lot of compelling facts to me.

So . . . I decided to give it a whirl. I didn't have meat, cheese or anything with eggs in it for 5 days.

It was straight up brutal. By the third day hubby came home and I said "I AM GOING TO TACO BELL RIGHT NOW!" I just felt like I was really missing something and my stomach just didn't feel right. I don't know if this is because I really missed meat and dairy out of habit or I actually need meat and dairy in my diet. I feel like I have been eating WAY too many carbs and I had that feeling like I was starving for something substantial to eat.

On the other hand, I ate a ton more veggies, fruits and whole foods than usual. After two days, my headaches went away that I've been having. Something that changed almost immediately was something that is kind of nasty to share on the interwebs, but I will. My poop. I have ass issues that are more normal for a 90 year old and they went away in ONE day. One day only. I also felt a lot less bloated. This should turn the lightbulb on that I am lactose intolerant. Duh. I also was consuming a very minimal amount of salt.

I did not go to Taco Bell on that third day. I held out. On the 6th day I broke my veganism. I ate a salad with chopped up chicken on top. Damn, that chicken was delicious. Very delicious. Later that night I ate chicken again and it was pure heaven. For sides with my chicken I had vegetables and a salad, which I can assure you I would normally never choose (french fries, boo yah).

I decided that I am not cut out to be a vegan for two main reasons:

1. I loathe vegetables. I think they are absolutely disgusting and I hate them. Especially cooked ones. It would be hard and actually pretty sad in my opinion to live my whole life eating the thing I like the least.

2. I love meat baby. Meat meat meat. Yummy.

On the 7th day, I totally effed off in the morning. I had a caramel mocha (dairy present) and an egg mcmuffin (dairy, meat and egg present). A strange thing happened. A few hours later I felt yucky and gross and then ate some processed food and felt yuckier. By lunch time, I chose an avocado and tomato sandwhich instead of the roast beef sandwich I wanted so that I could feel better. I also ate french onion soup for dinner and drank a mother load of water.

I decided that I will continue with a few things:

1. No dairy. Dairy makes me feel like crap (emphasis on the crap, literally). My body is happier without it.

2. I am going to eat a lot more vegetables and fresh fruits. I really did feel good in such a short time doing that so I want to keep it up.

3. I am going to try to keep breakfast and lunch meatless. Sometimes not lunch though.

4. I'm going to keep eating a lot of whole, fresh foods so I can keep that clean, non-bloated feeling.

So there you have it. Now if I just find time to exercise I will be little Suzy Healthnut . . . . .

Things That Are Really Annoying Me Today

1. Baby On Board signs on cars. Really? You think some psychopath with road rage is going to get pissed that you cut them off and then start tailgating you with the intention of bashing your head in with a baseball bat and that little yellow diamond that says "Baby on Board" is going to make them all of a sudden as docile as a baby kitten? No, it's not. You think when it is slick with rain on the road and that huge semi comes careening across the freeway it will all of a sudden just stop in it's tracks because of that dumb little "Baby on Board" sign? Or are you just advertising that you have a baby in your car? I don't get it. Dumb.

2. People who dress their kid to the 9's just to do everyday things, like go to the park or the store. Your little girl doesn't want to wear baby wedges, a skirt, a larger than life hair thing and a giganto vest that looks like a dead animal. Let your kid play. Your son/daughter is not your doll.

3. One of my feet is totally jacked and I walk like an idiot sometimes. This is completely my fault because a few months back I was at a place with my children from work that is full of those blow up jump jump thingys (bounce houses). A very fit 8 year old asked me to go with him and copy what he did. He jumped off of a section that was higher than the other and then did a flip. Because I am a regular genius, I thought I could do this too. No, I could not. My back and foot cracked. I'm still paying for it, as I deserve, for thinking that I am in as great shape as an 8 year old.

4. Internet liars. This is a phenomenon I don't quite grasp. Making up junk about yourself or your kids is just plain weird. Or people who bicker and bicker and bicker with each other online.

5. People who have a baby shower with every kid because "every child should be celebrated." I don't really care if you have a baby shower for every kid, that is not the annoying part. The part that is annoying to me is that you have convinced yourself this is for the baby somehow. How is that true?? That baby is a fetus who doesn't really care about anything, let alone if you have a party for it before it has arrived. This is for you. Own it.

6. Those feathers people wear in their hair. Only a few people look good in them, everyone else looks just plain silly. I was talking to a woman who had one that was thick and fluffy dangling off of her bangs and I just couldn't take anything she said seriously.

Phew. I feel better now.

Pizza!!



Ornery

Consignment Sales and Finger Nails

I am a bargain shopper by nature. Mostly because I'm poor, but also because I'm super cheap. Cheapo for sure.

I have never been really big on resale or consignment shopping. I did one run to a nice consignment shop for babies before the twins were born and right after I found out we were having at least one boy. I found great things, but never went back. Other than some hand-me-downs, all of the nuggets clothes have been new (cheap, but new).

I went to a Just Between Friends sale, which is a gigantic warehouse full of resale clothing that is tagged and sold by moms. Well . . . . I thought it sucked. If the clothes weren't faded, the people who were selling them wanted way more than I would ever pay at a sale like that. For example, there was a really cute set of tights and a skirt that had never been worn. The seller wanted $10.00 for it. F that! I know I could find that for sale at the Children's Place for cheaper! The tag was still on and it said they were originally $14.95 and you could see where the person scratched off the clearance tag. I guarantee they paid no more than $6 for those at the store. Another example: there were some adorable boys sweaters and they wanted $8 for them. They have never been worn. They were Faded Glory, which is Walmart, and I would bet the seller didn't pay any more than $5 for it.

Moral of the story: I could find all of these things new just by being a bargain shopper instead of going to one of these sales and digging through 8 gazillion things just to find a few good items.

But I did find a few things. Since it suddenly became cold out the twins have nothing to wear and look like homeless, random, disheveled kids. After that sale I hit up a Friday night Kohl's sale and also the big baby sale at Old Navy. For less than $200 I came home with:

11 Shirts
4 pairs of pants
1 sweater
4 shirt/pant combos
3 dresses
1 SUPER adorable pair of never been worn Keen rainboots for Osh man

Not too shabby!

******************************************************************************

Last week I discovered something that had me in sheer panic.

Not once, not even one single time, in the last almost 17 months have I cut my children's nails. Nope. Never.

I sent a text to hubby to ask him if he has been cutting their nails. He said no, he has never done it.

What in the hell?!?!?!?!???

I wondered how I could possibly have overlooked that and the fact that my kids probably had daggar's on the ends of their fingers. I wondered if they even had nails at all.

Hubby text back that he thinks they just fall off. Oh right hubby. Genius idea.

But they really do just fall off. After carefully checking them they were not monster like and they do exist. On one of Ocean's fingers I saw that it was just kind of dangling (just a little not jaggedy soft sliver) so I wanted to see what happened. By the end of the day it was gone.

This is either really not a good thing and there is something wrong with them or I am one lucky bitch who will never have to hold her kids down screaming while cutting their body parts with a sharp object. Yay.

My little nut playing in the rain

Oshy boy playing in the bath

The Great Bottle Debate

We ALL know babies aren't supposed to have bottles after a year.

Well . . . . . .

Regardless of my knowledge of this, my babies still have bottles. The pediatrician told us at their 15 month appointment to ditch the bottles ASAP. They are now almost 17 months old and we have a nighty night bottle every night. Sometimes they have daytime bottles too if the mood is befitting of one.

My first issue in the bottle war is that I don't really see the difference between a bottle and a sippie cup.



As you see, they have rubber tops and plastic bottoms. Same thing. What is the big deal? It's not that they can't use sippy cups, they just don't prefer it. They can use sippy cups, straw cups, regular cups and regular cups with big people straws (their second preference).

People say it will rot their teeth if they have it in bed. So they don't have it in bed. End of issue.

People say "well, what will it be like if they need a bottle for bed until they're teenagers? Won't that be embarassing?" I mean, I guess if they go to a sleepover and they get made fun of then yeah, it will be embarassing. I'm sure they will learn about peer pressure long before then. Also, I'm 27 and sometimes I need a bottle before bed. My bottles just look different, like these:

(not all at once mind you)

The main issue is ME. I don't give a flying rats behind what you have read in a book that your friend told you that you absolutely must read in order to parent a child, even though people have been parenting without baby books for the last bazillion years. Peer pressure just doesn't do anything for me. You can annoy me, make fun of me and talk about it amongst yourselves and STILL I do not care.


Because a bottle of soy milk before bed makes my babies happy. And when babies are happy, mama is happy. Mama also sleeps when babies sleep and babies sleep well after a nice cold one of soy. When they don't want it anymore or if I decide to get really mean or if something is drastically affecting their health, we won't do it. I'm the boss in this house. I decide what happens.

So there.

The Best Age

I think the twins are the most fun right now. They are doing so many things! I have to admit when people ask me if I'd ever like another kid, of course I would. BUT . . . . when other women tell me how much they miss the newborn phase I think they are loco up top. I don't know if I will ever miss the newborn phase. Maybe when they graduate high school? Probably not then either. I just remember pumping endlessly like some food machine while they cried and screamed and I wanted to murder hubby for not having boobs to help with or at the very least wake up and walk around with one of the screamers. Of course they were cute and smooshy and they smelled really good, the newborn smell is very nice, but everything else is for the birds.

NOW . . . OMG I adore every second. I love hearing "mama" especially.

Today we went to the big city market downtown. You can get the mother load of fresh, local food for cheap. Well, I did buy a loaf of bread that cost $7 but we got home and had it warm with butter and honey. Mmmm mmm mmm.

Anyway, it was a long ride to get there so I let Ocean walk for awhile instead of ride in the stroller. He ran! He gets so excited when he takes of running on his little legs that it makes him scream. It is too adorable. There was an alley (I know, all the awesome moms let their babies play in alley's) with humps and hills and he was so excited to walk up and then run back down. His eyes got big when he watched a man play his guitar and I wondered what he was thinking about. I pulled out my wallet to pay for the bread and some cupcakes we were buying and he reached down and grabbed my Michael's Craft Store rewards card and handed to the woman with a huge smile on his face. She laughed and gave it back so he tried again with my dental insurance card. The woman of course ooh'd and aah'd all over him. He was so proud of himself! We looked in the case of pies and he stuck his face right up to it, so curious. I just love seeing him explore everything!

Ever was in a foul mood but when we got home she was happy. She lays on the floor all the time and reads stories outloud to herself. She is so serious when she does this. She is currently the queen of drama and can make quite the faces. She can now also say "cheese" when she sees the camera.

I am also really enjoying the relationship they have with each other. They hug each other and chit chat with each other. I have to admit the funniest part is when they are fighting with each other. The other night Ocean kicked Ever so she yelled "no" in his face and hit him. He laughed about it so hard. Then she laughed and they hugged. Seriously . . . . melt a mama's heart.

Mommyhood is rockin' my socks right now. Moral of the story: toddlers rule, babies drool.

Stupid Ovaries

You know those stories you hear about people who get knocked up naturally while adopting or whose bodies magically became fertile after giving birth even with years of fertility treatments behind them?

I secretly hoped I was one of them. I secretly wished that one day I could wake up and be like "ooh, my period is late. Maybe I'm knocked up?"

A week ago I was awoken from my sleep by pains in my sides and I was like "ooh, my period is late." But not for one second did I think "maybe I'm knocked up?" I was in pain. My ovaries felt like baseballs bouncing around in my body. I just knew my PCOS was at it again even though I had gone a good SIXTEEN months without issues.

The OB confirmed that my ovaries were enlarged and if I am not going to be taking birth control then I need to be on meds to control the cysts on my ovaries. I've been on these meds before when trying desperately to get knocked up and they are helpful but you get major diarehha in exchange. Everyone loves diarehha right? Not.

To add to the fun of the realization that birth did not cure my reproductive organs, I had a cyst explode last night which left me vomitting this morning and caused me to have a major pity party. And a percocet.

I cried to hubby that I had just hoped so much that I would be normal now, like a normal person without constant reproductive system issues.

And hubby said he had really hoped so too.

At the same time I feel so lucky that I have these two funny munchkins. What if things just get worse and I had waited until there was no hope left?

Stupid ovaries. You suck.

The babies first ride with the top off in the jeep! They weren't impressed.

Our pitiful attempt at a family photo taken at the park!

The Week From Hades

Hubby travels for work, about one week a month or maybe a little more. He gets notice the week before he goes. It sucks balls sometimes.

Luckily, my grandparents are here for the rescue and we have a glorious time spending the night at their house because I am a little pansy who doesn't sleep well when hubby is gone. Our other schedule issue is the hubby goes to class two nights a week now and my usual work time off is 6:00, which is when daycares close, so my grandparents have helped out by picking them up those two nights.

They got picked up Monday night by my Papa. We ate dinner with him and then came home, did baths and bedtime no problem. I have this shit down.

Tuesday hubby leaves. They get picked up by Papa again. I stop by the house and let out the dog then put him in his kennel. Ever sleeps with Papa and I sleep with Ocean. They really only sleep well in their own beds so Ocean tossed and turned and I slept okay. I dropped them off at daycare and then went home Wednesday morning to let the dog out.

The house smelled like death. The dog had pooped, puked and peed all in the office. Even the wall had shit on it. I have worked with children a long time. I have cleaned their butts. I have wiped their boogers on my shirt in lieu of Kleenex. I have caught their vomit in my bare hands while pregnant with twins. BUT I CANNOT TOLERATE ANIMAL MESS. It is extra disgusting and I just can't do it.

But hubby is gone, two states away, so I have to. I put the barf kennel outdoors and the left the dog outside knowing full well he would run away. I was okay with that. I opened windows and proceeded to work. I got off early so I could pick up the nuggets to once again pawn them off on someone else (my mother in law) so I could clean up dog shit instead of spend time with them. I open the door and the house is infested with flies and bugs. WTF times a million!?!? I light several candles and get to work. After three hours, I realize we cannot sleep in this house so I pack our bags and go to stay at my grandparents even though they are not there. I cry like a little baby the whole time I drive to pick them up. I cry about hubby being gone, my house being disgusting, my babies getting continuously pawned off on others, Ocean being sick. Ocean is crying and crying, I know he is sick. The daycare had taken his temp right as I walked in and it was borderline, but high enough that he couldn't go back the next day. All I wanted was sleep. Ocean stayed up most of the night and then woke up at 5:00 a.m. 5:00 a.m.

I cried like a little baby again. I was so desperate. Ocean was crying and crying and crying and not sleeping. Hubby's family works and all of my family was out of town and hubby was out of town. I was royally screwed. I cried some more and then freaked out on hubby. He gave me the good news that they were coming back a day early. He found us at my grandparents at 5 in the evening with our pjs still on. The day wasn't half bad though. We had to stay another night at my grandparents and ended up sleeping there until today.

Friday was a great day. We went to the doctor and got drugs. Almost always I try to work part of the day or see if someone can watch them, but I took Thursday and Friday off. All the way. Okay, maybe I made the babies go to work with me for an hour Friday, but I took care of them the whole time.

I have had so much time with my nuggets this week and it is so amazing. My karma circled around and came back great because the babies have been in extra funny happy moods. We are now back in our house. I also ate a funnel cake today, and nothing could really be better than that. I'm proud we all survived. The twins have been in AWESOME moods and maybe I'm being arrogant but I think it's because their love tank is full of mama lovin.' It's true.

Peanut . . . the next Jersey Shore cast member. She LOVED the hot tub.