Body Image

Like many, many women, I struggle with my body image. I always have actually. This second pregnancy has ravaged my body and breastfeeding makes my boobs look like something out of a National Geographic magazine. I am so uncomfortable with myself. Leaving the house would help because then I would shove myself into some spanx but currently I am just lounging around in sweats with my dangler (my baggy, saggy, stretch marked dangly skin that hangs down under my belly button).

I gained more weight this time and only had one baby so that made a huge difference in my weight loss. Last time I was sick and couldn't eat much, not to mention I had GD which required a very healthy diet. This time I ate donuts twice a day so after baby came out I still wanted to just eat donuts twice a day.

The poor hubs has to hear about it all the time!

Me: I'm so fat and disgusting!

Hubs: You are not fat. You look good, especially for just having a baby, stop beating yourself up.

Me: I need new teeth!

Hubs: You don't need new teeth.

Me: I need a nose job!

Hubs: You don't need a nose job.

Me: My hair looks frumpy..

Hubs: Your hair looks fine.

Me: I am pale, I look like a Twilight character.

Hubs: You are really pale, I'll give you that one.

I really don't know why he doesn't strangle me. I'm annoying and hard to live with but I am having a rough time getting in touch with how I look. I try to avoid mirrors which makes it worse because then I am not at least putting on some makeup or decent clothing.

I did take a little action, which was to get my hair done. Thank God for Groupon.

Before:



After:



It's way darker than I thought it would be and much longer for having asked two inches to be cut off, but I am happy with it! Hubby says it's super sexy.

I have also been doing some ab work since about 2 weeks post partum. Really light at first and stepping it up a bit. I really don't have the energy to work out so I am trying to let that go until I get there. Eating healthier has happened a bit since I got a wicked stomach issue last weekend so that has helped she some pounds. This is how I look, I told hubby to not dare take a picture of anything much below the shoulders!

I am going to hopefully start getting better workouts in soon when the butterball's schedule is more predictable. Other than that, I guess I will just have to hope to win the lottery for those teeth, nose job and tummy tuck dreams! As long as I stick to taking pictures of my adorable munchkin and snuggling the butterball, I will just have to keep myself distracted from the hot mess that is me.

Life with Three

Last night my littlest little slept great so I woke up this morning ready to take the day on. My oldest son got in my bed at 4:00 a.m. because he was so scared. Of his pillow. Yes, he has me wrapped around his finger.

I heard the pitter patter of little feet upstairs as I was downstairs taking a quick morning nap with baby. It was followed by Osh yelling "stay out of here, go away" at Peanut, which was promptly followed by crying and wailing that Oshy is mean. Peanut came down and I put her in the blankets. After some snuggles she felt better so I went up after Osh and told him to be nice.

Small snafu, on with our business.

We watched a movie, we played, we ate breakfast. Easy peasy. We were blessed with an unseasonably warm day so we all got dressed and went outside. The twins were playing and I was holding baby. Then the twins wanted to swing so I was simultaneously cooking lunch in the oven, feeding the baby AND pushing two toddlers in a swing outdoors. I basically felt like I was kicking motherhood ass and taking names.

We ate lunch, which they ate like champions and managed not to get all over the place. They helped me give baby his first bath in the big tub and he loved it. I sat on the couch to feed baby again and they brought me pretend food to eat. When they pulled out the next bin of stuff I asked them to please clean up the other toys first and they did it like good little angels.

I've good this shit under control. Boo yah. Baby is happy, twins are happy, I'm still on the planet honed into the mother ship, life is good.

Then of course it all went downhill. Osh man started acting like a fool so I told him if he was a good boy we could go for a walk to see his daycare friends. That bought me about 20 minutes of decent behavior. He got out his spaceship which doesn't stay together well so I got up to help him and as I was snapping it together it came back and hit baby in the head. Baby cried, I soothed him then helped put the spaceship back together. Peanut wanted to play spaceship so she picked up a figure that Osh wasn't even touching and that sent him over the edge. Screaming bloody murder. The baby was on my boob, almost asleep, and then he was wide awake giving him the side eye wondering what this outrageous noise was.

I quietly told my son to share with Peanut or he could not play, he wasn't even use that figure and there are three other figures. I reminded him of going to see friends. He continued. I told him to go sit in the time out area until he was going to be nice and we could work it out. Instead he took the figure from Peanut. I told him to give it back and come see me. Instead he hit her in the chest and then the face. Of course I had to put baby down to go get him. I told him no, no, no, we never hit and then took him upstairs to his bed. He screamed like a crazy animal. I shut the door. I went downstairs and Peanut was bawling because Oshy hit her. I gave her hugs and kisses and she went about playing. Poor baby was laying on the couch sucking furiously on his hand.

Osh screamed and screamed and screamed. I fed baby and took deep breaths. I reminded myself that I love my children and am lucky to be at home with them all day right now even though I really wished I could take that little booger down the street to daycare. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

Finally he came down stairs and said sorry to Peanut and to me for throwing a tantrum (yes, I do forced apologies. Fake til you make it!). He continued playing with his spaceship which kept falling apart and he had meltdown after meltdown. I had to keep up with the deep breaths. Finally I distracted him from the spaceship with fruit snacks.

What would make this situation better, besides Super Nanny of course? A nap. The twins aren't even 3 yet but naps have been Hell since they quit going to daycare for my maternity leave. If they take a nap, which is a big if, it's a four hour ordeal. 1.5 hours just to get them to sleep which requires my presence in the room the whole time, then two hours of nap, then half an hour of them being ticked that they are being forced to wake up from that nap. Then they stay up until at least 10. It sucks. So I decided to give up on nap, which means we have a lovely bout of terrible behavior mid day. I don't know what is worse. Four hour naps followed by terrible bedtime or terrible midday followed by an okay to semi miserable evening and a good night of sleep. It's hard to tell.

Thankfully after awhile we got back on track and Osh became his usual sweet self and I finally convinced the twins to use an indoor voice so baby could sleep more than ten minutes.

It was only a matter of time before something else happened. It came in the form of a sweet little Peanut voice proclaiming that she took off her diaper to pee in the potty. I came to look and told her how proud of her I am for being such a big girl and it was quickly followed by "and there's some poop on my jacket and some little poop on the floor."

Oy . . . . . . .

The Twins and Travel

My nuggets are well seasoned travelling monkey's. They love airplane and car rides and indoor hotel pools and packing their suitcases and the whole shebang. Right now they are currently off with Grandma, my mom, without me, hanging out about 16 hours away. They have been gone a week and will be home in a few days.

Yes, pick your jaw up off the floor.

This is their third time doing something like this. The longest we have been apart is 9 days. I can't tell you how many times I say this to someone and they gasp and say "omg, I would NEVER let my children leave without me. I never even spend one night without my child. How can you do that? I just can't imagine allowing my family to take my child from me" and so on and so forth.

I don't LOVE to be away from my kids. In fact, two days in I had a good cry. It's really strange and crazy to go from a house of loud terror to one sleepy little newborn. BUT - I knew they would love it.

I am not controlling mom. Most moms I know fall into this category but I don't. I absolutely adored when I got to take special trips with my grandparents or go spend the night with my aunt. I didn't love it because my parents didn't love me or I hated my parents and wanted to get away from them or we aren't bonded properly to each other. I loved it because it's fun to get away. It's fun to enjoy a new experience. I love my extended family and love to be near them and have special time with them. So? My extended family members are incredibly important me and I adore them. I am thrilled that my kids get to experience the same.

The day that the twins left they woke up and saw their Sesame Street suitcases packed up. They came running downstairs. I told them they were going on an adventure with Grandma and Grampa. We got dressed, got their special blankies and they waited anxiously by the door. I did not feel jealous or weird. They were so excited and I was excited for them. It was adorable. They could not wait for their special adventure.

I feel great that my kid's are so well adjusted that they can enjoy the company of family and don't need to be under my feet at all times. I know this is hard as a mom and yes, I too cry at the end of Toy Story 3 every.single.time watching Andy go off to college, but the truth of life is, your kids are going to leave you someday. Sooner rather than later you will drop them off at Kindergarten. A girl or boy will come by to sweep your child off their feet and they will have a life of their own. You will take them to driver's ed and unleash them unto the world in a vehicle. They will graduate high school and you will send them off to college. They will get married and you will give them to someone else. I know these are sad things, but they are real things. I want my kids to look at the world and spread their wings and fly out into it. Therefore, I can handle a nine day separation from them while they go get their own adventure with Grandma.

Besides, you may recall that my mom took a year off of her life, moved out of her state and into our house to help me take care of the twins. She isn't really like extended family, she is like the 6th member of our immediate family. Basically, if Grandma wants some twin time, we try to make it happen.When little kids don't see people for awhile it is sometimes hard for them to remember family members, but  no matter the time or distance when Grandma shows up these two are ready to roll. This is a morbid thought, but if something ever happens to us and we leave this earth before our children do, I know that they have a strong and special bond with someone else and that makes that horrifying thought a little bit easier.

And that's the story. Good for you if you NEVER spend time away from your kids, but I do. I'll give you a pat on the back for your dedication, but this is our life and we like it this way. I'm proud of my kiddos and I think Hubby and I are awesome.

My little gymnasts

The Second Time Around

The second time becoming a mom has been so much easier. I thought it might be harder to juggle the other two and the butterball, but it really has not. I think there are a variety of reasons for this.

My  birth experience was a thousand times easier, so while I still needed time to heal it hasn't been nearly as intense and I've been able to resume so many activities right away.

I  know my ass isn't going to get any sleep. I know it! It isn't a shock to my system. The twins really only started sleeping all night about a year and a half ago so I have it under control this time.

I know what to expect. I'm not anxious or crazy. I haven't felt compelled to prove anything to anyone, like I can cook, clean, workout, look good and get two little babies out in public. I am perfectly satisfied being a couch potato and staying in pj's all day. I wanted to be the mom who can do it all so bad the first time. This time being a mom again is enough for me and I long to soak up the experience without concern for what other's are thinking or doing. Most of my days I change from last nights sweat pants into a new pair of sweat pants and I'm golden! The twins were an epic event and we had tons of visitors. Now it's all about our immediate family and I love it.

There is only one this time. Once I am done feeding him and get him into bed, that's it! All done!

The twins are a good distraction. It's easy to spend hours online researching if you are doing everything correctly when you have sleepy newborns around and tons of help. This time if baby is fed, clean and happy and the twins aren't burning the house down with some matches they found now that they have discovered how to move the step stool around the kitchen I feel like we have a small success.

I'm happy. And that's all. Simple. PJ's. Snuggles. Food. Baths and showers. We are just happy to be flying under the radar these days. I must say this little butterball has been the perfect addition to our family. I love having him and seeing how the twins are growing as little people with him in the house and of course, seeing my hubby as a new daddy is always fun.

We've got our hands full, but as a good friend said, our hearts are even fuller!

The Sibling Adjustment

I started getting worried about the twins in my last week of pregnancy. I worried about how they would feel and how the adjustment would go, but selfishly I worried if they would be mad at me or not. I really didn't want that.

When I dropped them off at my grandparents to go to L&D, I didn't actually think we would end up having baby that night. I truly believed that I would be walking in for that csection on the 19th. Osh man wasn't even awake and I told Peanut I'd be back in a little bit. I totally lied.

The first time they came to the hospital, they were emotional basketcases. They had no idea what was going on. I was in bed and there was a new baby and it was so weird. They only wanted Hubby, which sucked. They wanted nothing to do with the baby and would come near me only to ride my adjustable hospital bed.

The next time they came to the hospital, they threw a few tantrums. I felt so incredibly guilty. I am not one of those people who think conceiving a child is a special gift to a sibling. Not that I don't enjoy my siblings, but if you are going to have a baby I'm not sure that's a reason I can sympathize with. We had Nash because we wanted to have a baby and I knew that might not automatically be something exciting for the twins so the guilt of doing something for myself and it being upsetting to them was pretty intense. I tried not to cry because that would scare them. Osh man's tantrums were the worst. I took Peanut out for a walk with me. We filled up my water and we counted the rectangles on the floor tiles and went to see if they had put Nash's name up on the window. Still, there was no interest in baby.

The first day we got home and the twins came home from my grandparents was hard. Osh said "you brought that baby home with you?" Yep, sorry dude, the change is permanent. He tried figuring things out and he was running around with a bottle of breast milk. When he was asked to not play with it he completely lost it. Screaming and running and hitting the walls and the floor. I did the best I could again, and just started bawling like a baby. I felt terrible for him and didn't know what we would do or how I could make this up to them or make it work for us all. I fell in love with Nash instantly and I was hoping they would too, even though I know that was silly to expect from a pair of two year old's.

Things got better though really quickly. Every time they took interest in the baby or did something nice for them we showered them with positive attention. They started enjoying helping by giving me diapers or holding my boob or the bottle to help (the boob is a little awkward but it is what it is). Baby just sits around and sleeps and eats, he doesn't take their stuff or do anything offensive towards them. Another thing that helps is that they equated mommy being home all the time with baby and they are really happy with that. I thought they would miss daycare and we should try to find a way to afford while I am on leave, but they absolutely love being home all day (I'm sure that will make going back to daycare real awesome, not).

A few days after we had been home I was doing some things downstairs. I went up and Hubby was laying in the center of the bed, the twins were laying with him and then there was Nash, only in a diaper in a pile of my family in all 8 lbs of his little pot bellied glory. My whole family, together and satisfied and looking exactly how I dreamed it would look. Yep, I cried a little. You can see that is a common theme around here.

The twins were building "sandcastles" with pillows on my bed and Nash was laying there yesterday. Osh man leaned over and said "no, he cute. I love him." WIN!!

So it's worked out just fine. Nash did pull Peanut's hair for the first time today though so it may be all downhill really quickly . . . . .

8 Day Stay

We ended up staying in the hospital for 8 days. It was a huge suck fest.

On Friday I woke up and my ear hurt like a bitch, I had a 102.7 fever and was shaking uncontrollably. The hubster took me to the doctor and I had an ear infection so bad it was bleeding inside, my uterus was infected and one of my boobs was in the early stages of mastitis. I got loaded up on antibiotics and started feeling better. I had a chat with the doctor about Nash and how he seemed like he was getting sick too. She said to keep an eye out for a fever, cough, etc.

He got a cough but no fever. I decided Sunday to just go ahead and take him to the walk in clinic. We waited forever for a clearly overworked doctor who was short with me and not very friendly. After taking blood from my baby she decided to prescribe him antibiotics. He was only 8 days old at the time and the prescription was for 1 teaspoon of antibiotic three times a day. Wow!

I got to the pharmacy and the pharmacist was very concerned about the dosage of this antibiotic and why an 8 day old would even need antibiotics. This made me paranoid so I called the on call doctor at the office and she said that it seemed like way too much and he should only have a quarter teaspoon every 8 hours. I was fuming mad that she would overprescribe my baby meds! I could not believe it. What if I hadn't had other kids and knew that seemed like a lot or if I had a pharmacist who wasn't paying attention and just filling prescriptions? I could have made him pretty sick.

This made me way paranoid that she missed other important things in regard to my baby's health so I took him to the ER. They said he seemed fine but they would suction him out and check for RSV. He tested positive for RSV and said due to his age it would require a mandatory 24 hour hospital stay, but the hospital was completely full of kids with RSV, pneumonia and flu so we would have to go to the children's hospital downtown. He said I could drive him myself because he was in pretty good shape.

Then it all went downhill.

They double checked his oxygen and it was in the low 70's so they hooked him up. He was either screaming or zoning out. He looked terrible. They said he needed to be transferred by ambulance. A new doctor came in and touched him on his fingers and chest and then ordered an IV in immediately. I started getting a little panicked. They came in to do his IV and he was screaming. I started crying a little in the corner. All of  sudden his screaming stopped and alarms were going off on the monitor and one of the nurses said "he's bradying, get the doctor now" and they started rubbing his chest. I did the best thing I could, which was begin to bawl my eyes out. All the commotion, plus the alarms, plus my baby not making a sound was the worst moment I think I have experienced in a really long time. The nurse asked if he had ever had a chest xray and I tearfully said no and then thought of heart defects he could have that we didn't know of yet. Luckily the brady was probably just from low oxygen and stress.

They got him settled and I fed him a little and he passed out. The poor baby was traumatized to the max. Finally the ambulance got there. I listened as the nurse gave the EMT's the rundown and what they should do if he had a brady again on the way down.

At 3:30 a.m. we arrived at the downtown Children's Hospital. At that's about all. There isn't much you can do for RSV so they hooked him up to oxygen and we began oxygen level watch, which lasted eight seriously long days. On the fourth and fifth night my mom did hospital duty and we celebrated Christmas with the twins. On the seventh day I went batshit crazy on the medical staff and an idiot social worker they called in to deal with me, so Hubby stayed with him and I got some sleep. On day eight, we brought baby home!

I am normally dirty and proud, not paranoid at all, but I have hardly left the house with him. Only to the doctor. I'm the hand washing Nazi. I really don't want to ever do that again. So that's the story. Not cool, but thankful it was only a virus and nothing more serious.

Making cookies for Santa on the 28th!

Little buddy all hooked up to all his stuff!