Quick Takes

-1-

Yesterday, I received wonderful news at the neonatologist's office that the boys are both measuring 5 lbs and 9 ozs. These are great weights for twins, especially at 35 weeks, 1 day, and it's laugh-out-loud fun that their estimated weights are the same since this is unusual for mono-di twins (who usually have a discordance of weight allowing for one twin a size lead over his/her sibling). For the curious...I've gained 42 lbs so far, just 2 pounds more than what I gained with Thomas. Here's the most recent photo of me I found on my phone when my family was in town this past weekend and we visited my favorite park.  I think this pic really captures how different a twin belly looks. It's a whole different kind of big. Keg big.

-2-

I was prepared with this pregnancy to deliver very early.  We've been ready to shoost out the door for the hospital since a day or two after the school year ended for me two weeks ago.  While any rational personal would be elated to carry her twins to 35 weeks, I have not proved that rational person.  I'm not proud to share that on several nights I have prayed dozens and dozens of Hail Mary's begging our Holy Mother to send me into labor. I've done upteen things to seize the moment. I really have. But there's really only so many hours a woman feels like enduring the possibility of you-could-meet-two-new-souls-any-day-now!!!

-3-

Luckily, we don't have to wonder much longer. The induction is scheduled for Thursday, June 6th at 7:00 am.  I would appreciate your prayers so very, very much.  We will need prayers for a safe delivery and peace for the outcome, as there are many possible complications before the twins arrive (possibility of both a VBAC & c-section deliveries) as well as when they arrive (very probable stay in the NICU). **Thank you in advance**

-4-

I ceased all exercise when I started reading about twin pregnancies, so about 15 weeks ago, in an effort to preserve calories for the growth of the babies.  I have missed walking so very much.  I realized a couple days ago that this is the perfect time to pick it back up.  I've walked just two days in a row and can't tell you how lovely it was, even yesterday as I walked through strong winds and under cloud cover promising rains any second. 

Neighbor's flowers hugging the curb like a friendly hello.

-5-

Something else I miss very much but can't reunite with quite yet is taking care of the yard.  Weeds have literally taken over our landscaped areas. It is driving me crazy, as my son would say. The other day I was just itching to take care of a few bad spots. Paul was working from home and happened to look out the window to see his pregnant wife gingerly bending over so as to balance the belly and yet go to town on de-weeding the heck out of a mulched area.  As you might suspect, I received a strong scolding through the window and so I commenced to teach my son the ways of weeding...

"Son, get my gloves on and grab this shovel and show this weed who's boss!"

-6-

This morning Thomas called for help from his room.  I found him trapped in a crib with one leg stuck between slats and the other leg perched over the rail.  When I asked him, "Why did you do this?" his response was, "I was just busy being a super hero."  I think I might try this category of response out on my husband one day.  He'll open the front door after a long day at work and see three halfheartedly dressed boys and a wife with raccoon eyes.  He'll scan the perimeter and spot dishes in the sink and kids' toys scattered all throughout our house. When he looks at me for just cause, I'll plead my case with, "I was just busy being a super mom."

-7-

Kid is up. This is all I've got.

Have a wonderful weekend!

-8-
Bonus!

After publishing this post, I walked away to do whatever and looked over to Thomas as he was shaking his booty in his "no hat" (snow hat, for the uncultured). A realization quickly overtook me that the far fetched scenario I painted in #6 is merely the current state of affairs minus two babies.

Woodland Creatures

When you've seen the bottom of every laundry basket (dirty and clean) and scrubbed your sinks until they're white and your freezer is stuffed full of every dish freeze-worthy... you have to drum up a little something something to keep the crazy at bay while you wait but try not to wait for da babies to arrive!!!

And so yesterday I decided a little fox painting would do the trick.

Blank slate--ack!

Where I almost painted a bee that was quickly looking like a poster child for diabetes...

Almost done... and a little freaked out about painting the eyes

And finally dude found his home by some other fine looking creatures (I painted three years ago).

I was gonna drop this whole woodland creatures theme sooner rather than later, but my son finally, a week or so ago, took note of the owl I painted, proudly exclaiming, "Yeah. My mommy painted that owl for me. I like it!" So he's gonna ride out the cheap decorations for a while longer.

Got any projects on your slate? Or any ideas for what I might do in the next who knows hours to stay *relatively* sane?

Oh, and one super cute picture of another woodland creature, my turtle, who made me smile a million times from ear to ear during "Turtle Mania" at the Nature Center today. (And I'd insert other photos but my phone just puttered out.)

The Waiting Game

I handed in my keys, in a big blubbering cry fest mess, last Thursday just in time to zip off to my 87 hundredth doctor appointment.  That night sparked a breaking-in of at home motherhood with as much feverish cleaning as my lumbering over sized belly can handle.

Most recent pic. Another daring choice of stripes.

Today, I'm at 33 weeks and 4 days.  Average gestation for twins is 35 weeks. And while the end of a singleton pregnancy and a twin pregnancy are just alike in equal parts exciting and exhausting for all the anticipation, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say the hours of waiting feels just a tad different when you're carrying two babies.  Because when you measure 40 weeks at 33 weeks and you have the potential to grow at an exponential rate each day thereafter, you're a little freaked out and so are your stretched to a whole new level of max ribs.

However, as much fun as it might be to have you believe I'm busy here driving up a complain storm about things such as my tailbone screaming like it's about to break off and my need to rest between even the lowest common denominator of activities (Read: I got winded from putting on make-up this morning), I'm really fine.  And that's only because I'm on this high of gratitude that's sweeping me right through to the end of this pregnancy, should that be tomorrow or ten days from now.

He's recently taken to the egg.

I'm grateful the twins have stayed put this long.  I'm grateful that I was able to have the closure of finishing the school year (and in good health).  I'm grateful for every single minute I have with Thomas to read to him, play with him, and laugh with him--because we need a good stock of bonding and happy times before mommy goes fatigue numb and resorts to "uh huhs" and "what?s" for primary conversational pieces. I'm grateful for that insatiable drive to nest which is some kind of domestic euphoric drug inaccessible for production and distribution (shucks!), only available for us carrying a load out front.  There's a certain kind of magic in the desire to pack a bag or reorganize a fridge with all the critical calculation and focus as that of a bomb detonation and yet the gentle fondness of a mother caressing her child's face for the first time.  Good times.

Memory. Or should I say, The Game I'm Better Than Mommy At

I am past the point of taking it "day by day".  It's more of an hour by hour vigilance to divvy up my efforts in three equal parts: cleaning, distraction, and sleeping.  I've scheduled bits of busy into my calendar so there isn't enough of a lull in my life to make me want to toss myself on a bed and say stupid stuff like "THESE BABIES ARE NEVER GOING TO GET HERE!".  Maybe in between luncheons, play dates, and doctor appointments, I'll just happen upon a need to say, "Well, my goodness.  These babies have decided to arrive. I hardly noticed it was time!" Bahaha. Yeah. Totally like that.

My look of disgust? Who knows. Let's hope it doesn't stick.

An Openness to Life

At any given moment, you could add up my husband and me and divide by four and you would have the sum total of persons open to new life.  Or rather it is: our openness to adding a plus one to our family.  This isn't to say we aren't pro-life or that we believe in using contraception or that we don't just absolutely love Thomas (and are excited for the twins to arrive).  It just simply means we are two people who acknowledge the counter-cultural wisdom in welcoming children--giving our version of a nod and wave when it passes by-- but actually considering such pursuit sends me into sleepless nights and my husband into (straight from the page of when I informed him we were pregnant with our 1st) a ghostly white apparition.

The blogosphere is brimming with women whom I admire for their openness to life. And not in the way I uphold being pro-life in my head. They're doing it with their very lives.  There's stunning Grace who makes being saddled with three kids under three appear just about the hippest (and most hilarious) thing any of us could be busying ourselves with even when she's working her magic as trophy wife coping as a (temp) single parent while her husband's away doing doctor-y things.  There's Dwija, whose recent vulnerability and honesty in sharing the shaky start for baby #6 makes me want to reach right through my computer screen and hug her with love for showing us what a "yes, do unto me" looks like.  And there's Jennifer and her recent eloquent post which offers an unwavering commitment to her children through the willingness to love with the bold life as an NFPer. 

And there are so many more.  In real life. In the digital sphere.  Women and men who are right from a come to life Couple to Couple League magazine, modeling for me the joys of allowing God to, if so the plan, cram our homes full of people to love in ways which stretch ourselves greatly.  Women and men strapped for money and giving a hearty yes.  Women and men who've dealt with grief, infertility, and/or medical complications and giving a happy yes.  Women and men who, just as much as the next person, don't know how their lives could possibly shift into place with one more child but still lay down their yes.

And here is me of little faith.  Despite my upbringing with a mom of unrivaled moral convictions and an unmatched love and respect for children of all ages and a mother-in-law with ten kids of her own and a heart so big it carries its own kind of music into a room, I'm just timid me.  I'm no bold proclamation, no walking billboard, no announcement of God's radical love for us in the way of being open to happy additions as some sort of beautiful string of pearls, pieced bit by bit through the long years of fertility. 

The form of my bold proclamation of openness to life is when I type preggo complaints into Twitter and then erase them.  My walking billboard is a belly at 32 (almost) weeks that's measuring 37 and looks 42.  My bold proclamation is my insistence that no, the Duggers really aren't weird, I promise.

While I would be eager to slip right into my mother's convictions, my mother-in-law's heart, and my sister-in-law's steady courage... oh, or Grace's pants (because how you have 3 under 3 and look like THAT is a whole other kind of wonderful)... I'm me.  Courage doesn't come easy to me.  Thinking tangles me up in a whole mess of serious.

But I've got today.  And today means one more day to love my husband in all the ways I know, listening, learning, and laughing with my son who is such a joy to me, and savoring every kick and punch the twins have in store even when that means edging ever closer to my muscles separating indefinitely.

Openness to life is not in the longing to add but rather to be joyfully vigilant and present in wrapping our hearts around every person we come in contact with.  It's in our reaches to our grandmother and the grocer and the students I see for just one more week before saying goodbye.  It isn't a race to multiply but rather to draw to ourselves, whether in new life or old, "ours" or others'", all the souls which could use an extra sprinkling of love. 

I am open.  I am not closed.  I'm also super frightened about the possibility of more than what I've already been given. My openness at this point will have to suffice to be the absence of a closed door, a hardened heart, turning to contraception as some sort of safety net to guard me from sacrifice.

Long ago my roots intertwined with the Culture of Life.  And while I don't have a mini-bus-o-Andersons and won't look you in the eyes and say, "Why yes, I would be more than happy to have another one", I'm open nonetheless.  I've always been open to life in my own way, never set in a vision for what my family would look like, making it relatively easy to accept quickly the surprise news of twins.  If my heart (or my husband's heart) is to expand even greater, ever more willing and open to new life, I have full confidence Christ will knock on our door.  Really loudly.  Because three boys under four is noise the Good Lord is not going to have an easy time rivaling.  

In the meantime, I plan on very un-timidly loving, with the greatest openness I know, a house full of three boys and a man who is, on most days, a delightful golden color.

Our 1st "plus one"! 

The Anticipation of May

This morning I ceremoniously turned my planner's pages to May and clipped everything from the 1st four months of 2013 closed.  I smiled and stared at everything happening in May...

My brother and sister-in-law are expecting their fifth child, Martin, who holds a happy title of 1st son.  While I won't be able to travel to hold baby Martin, I'm joyful from afar about their evolving family dynamic.  The thought of all their sweet girls swooning around a precious little boy is just too cute.

Both my sisters are moving into new homes: one into her 1st house and the other into her 1st apartment.  Deep into nesting, I do declare that there is something so delightful in the making of a home and so much excitement in getting a clean slate to do so.  I look forward to lots of new memories in my sisters' homes and I'm grateful to have them in Springfield with me! 

My last day of school is May 16th! I've been very sober about processing our decision for me to stay at home for a while with the boys.  However, I won't be ashamed to raise my freak flag of glee for any amount of time (if granted) between me waving goodbye to CHS and me bringing the twins into the world.  A chance to hang out with Thomas before things go bonkers around here would be just absolutely wonderful!

And then there's some other things about May too.

I got through January.  I started grumbling during February.  I held my breath through March for April and then when April got here I told it several times it was disappointing me.  The weather. My roller coaster of emotions with the twins' prep.  The weather.  

May means a flooding of green and flowers and letting my guard down to feel some joy.  

But let's not talk about June.  If I make it to June without babies, I'll be equal parts out of my mind thrilled for making it to that elusive 36th week and out of my body stretched, broken, aching and beyond any shape or figure I can possibly imagine (and refuse to) at this point. 

What are you anticipating in your May?

Parenting 101

Those 100 level courses in college were quite the drag.  Common sense curriculum droned on in monotone and made us cringe at the wasted time for material we should have mastered in high school.  Moving on to those upper level classes meant getting to the good stuff, the meat of what mattered in our chosen field.

I'm 28 and I think I've just passed my 1st class in parenting.  My son is three and we're at a sweet spot in our family dynamic that often feels too good to be true.  I'm savoring every moment before that dynamic gets a radical makeover when the twins arrive.

I'm here to offer my SparkNotes version of Parenting 101, the quick version of lessons I learned in the 1st three years of parenting.  New or soon-to-be mommas might appreciate this crash study (and miraculously skip years of cluelessness unlike me) and seasoned mommas might continue reading as means to feel a sense of pride for having passed Parenting 101 light years ago.

1. Expect the Worst:  The worst will happen.  Curious children are going to try their boundaries, explore their landscape, and experiment with all things within reach.  When my son ripped a clump of hair from my sweet niece I was so horrified I couldn't move in the church pew.  I went numb from my eyeballs to my toes.  All I could think was, that's not my son, that's not my son, that's not my son.  But it was my son.  He did it.  The actions of children are not a direct correlation to our whole nature as parents or their whole nature as mini-persons.  However, they do need a swift and assured response when things go awry.  We need not act shocked or disgusted.  Expecting the worst is my way of saying consider the possibility that your sweet darling might do something in public in front of your ex-boss which makes you feel like melting into oblivion.  In that moment you can confidently respond rather than react rashly, to remember there is often reason behind the misbehavior (and you will figure it out even if not right away) and that your parenting isn't summed up in that one moment.

2. Talk, talk, talk:  The 1st night of my son's life I stared, gazed, and thanked God endlessly for granting me something so stunning.  And while I guess I moved beyond parenting as one long gaze into my son's eyes, it did take me quite a while to realize that everything I was feeding (in the figurative sense) Thomas was planting seeds and would come to fruition.  Did I really need to explain to him the process for organizing the pantry as suggested by baby books? Yes!! Loving little ones who can't yet speak can sometimes be.... mind-numbing.  I've laughed out loud several times at the awkward experience of talking intelligently to a baby whose idea of feedback appears to be: drooling, kicking, and spitting milk back up on your shirt. I've been amazed though at how all my talking, eventually, came back around and now I listen to my son who wants to talk, talk, talk too.  And wow! The joy in having conversations with our talking little peoples. It's the best! I talk to Thomas in preparation of new experiences or of my expectations, and doing so always pays off in big ways.  As a family, we do a lot of our talking in the kitchen or at the dining table and I love the communion of sharing our day's highs and lows (although we don't call them that). I see that our practice of talking to rather than at each other makes each of us feel a sense of belonging.

3. Be One Step Ahead (when possible): Anticipating children's needs is a tricky skill to master.  It takes a lot of practice in intimately knowing both ourselves and the littles.  And I'm not the one to take advice from.  I can be quite the spaz.  I once had Thomas blow his nose into a diaper in between aisles at Kohl's because I didn't have on me a single napkin, Kleenex, or wet wipe.  I'm the antithesis of the Together Mom.  But being one step ahead is, just like the rest of parenting, unique for each of us.  Thomas and I are beasts about food intake.  If meals don't arrive on time we are some unhappy creatures.  Knowing that helps me curb would-be cranky behavior.  I learn what one step ahead looks like every day too because it's always changing. Showing I'm excited to go see Jesus with Thomas on Sunday is me one step ahead.  Stepping away from my busy-ness to sit down and play with trains or "abengers" before he asks is me one step ahead.  Including Thomas in all the things that are easy for him to help with (dumping sugar in the bowl, putting place mats on the table, and carrying one end of the laundry basket) is me one step ahead.

4. Listen: About six months ago, I experienced the biggest breakthrough yet in parenting.  It was when I learned to listen to my son.  I knew I loved him so very much, but one of the biggest ways that he needed to know that I loved him was in me listening.  After a string of grit-your-teeth parenting experiences which made me feel like a big pile of crap, I searched Dr. Sears's website for some golden answer.  Dr. Sears, why won't my son listen to me? Being a bit familiar with that site, there were likely very practical solutions to my problem (an unruly child), but one line was a frying pan right to the head.  Are you listening to your child? Often I would respond to him with things like: "just a minute", "hold on", "Mommy's busy right now" and on and on.  I felt what I was doing was often more important than what he wanted me to see, hear, or do.  In turn, when I needed him to listen he didn't care to do so.  And rightfully so.  I've been working at mindful listening now for months.  I feel like this one practice alone saved me from what was becoming a miserable, reactive state of parenting.  Parenting amid a host of disruptions should be lived out as an active kind of prayer, one which says to our littles: you are worthy and I am fully here.  I fail a lot. Luckily, I get lots and lots of chances to show him that his words are a treasure to me.  And added bonus--listening means all these things in great abundance:  deep trust in one another, little fascinating insights, a vulnerability that welcomes growth (for me and him), and a ton of laughter!

5. Know thy Self / Connect with Others:  Parenting can become complicated quick.  So much out there saying... here's the right way! It doesn't need to be a laborious process of weeding through endless advice though because it can be wrapped up in this nugget: Parenting is the practice of getting to know yourself alongside getting to know your child.  Prescription to one author, doctor, or know-it-all of parenting is my definition of disaster.  I'm the 1st person in line at the library to to pick up another book on parenting (as well as any other subject you can imagine) but reading articulate and well-laid plans for feeding, sleeping, potty-training, or any other sort of child-rearing obstacle just adds to my possible tools for use rather than my resolute plan of attack.  Knowing our boundaries, our talents, and our core values are much more important than following the shining light of an expert or your fabulous mommy friend who scored great success in swearing off (fill in the blank).  And while I want to stress we should use a mix of common sense, trial and error, and talking with your spouse for solutions, reaching out to resources is healthy too.  Mommy mentors are a wonderful blessing.  The advice of others who have gone before us is often very practical and applicable.  In turn, we can find a deep connection with other women or men who are eager to remind us of our sanity, the humor in the situation, or that this too shall pass.  These relationships are second to us knowing and doing all the dirty work that's required in being our full selves, but they are absolutely wonderful! You are no island.  And you sure as heck shouldn't be changing poopy diapers on that island without anyone else to laugh with about the abominable stench.

* I took this course with Professor Thomas.  I found him to be a difficult professor.  He gave me tons of homework and he wouldn't tell me what was on the test.  Sometimes, he made me feel so little because he acted like the curriculum was stuff I should already know.  But he was pretty cool.  He cancels class sometimes and every time I see him on campus he is really friendly.

** Also, you really might want to get notes from someone else. I had to retake this class an embarrassing number of times.

Good luck!

Pregnancy Update Overload

Bed rest - Orders to get into bed and stay there sounded scary once upon a time.  I've met mommies of twins who have been given that directive at ten weeks, twenty weeks, and two weeks before induction.  At each of their stories I had previously felt pity.  Now I just feel jealous.  Just three months ago, before the news of the twins, I envisioned the 1st month of summer as a fun time of nesting and squeezing in extra special memories with Thomas before the "baby" arrived.  Now, I fantasize about making it to the end of the school year, handing in my keys at the office, and collapsing into bed for a self-directed, but no less legitimate, prescription of bed rest until the boys decide to make their debut. Heaven.

Thomas & the Twins - He continues to insist their names are Penguin and Peanut Butter & Jelly. Or some other version of that but always with two names that start with Ps.  Tonight, he pulled up my shirt and down my pants band to get a full exposure show of what he sees as the twins' feeble attempt to break out of jail.  Yesterday, I stopped walking and winced at some pain.  He said, "What's wrong, Mommy? Does your belly hurt? Here. I can rub it for you."  Good kid, that Thomas.

Back Pain - I had none with Thomas. And already, at 28 1/2 weeks, I've reported to my husband that I have the slight inclination my tailbone could snap off.  I took two naps this weekend.  I was more sore than I was tired.  This doesn't bode well for making it several more weeks.

Loving the Boys - Here's a little bit of an embarrassing confession.  I have been so stressed, preoccupied, in tears, or worried from the moment we found out the one was two, that I gave myself little license for excitement.  Last week I let some true happiness bubble up inside me (felt great!) and this morning I woke up and felt this big swarm of love for these two souls I'm going to meet and know and cherish as individuals with their own personalities and dreams... even if it was momentarily before I went back to cursing my size triple G bra and the fearful feat of shaving my legs which had me genuinely concerned I would topple over at the slightest lack of poise.

Freeze-a-thon - My mission of cramming my freezer full of food is a success.  We've got oodles of French toast, soup, chicken and fajita veggies, taco seasoned beef, chili, and some other stuff I can't remember right now.  Every time I think I'm going to slow down in this race to not cooking for as long as possible post birth, I remember that even today making my way up stairs for the copier proves an Olympic feat so I better utilize my faculties before I completely give out.

Small Talk - In those twin books, there were so many quips of advice from snarky mommies of twins.  Their frustrations with strangers' questions made for an indignant reader on my part.  Oh, I would never be sarcastic with someone's sweet questions - OR - Really, people? They're just harmlessly curious.  But I'm kind of burned out with the same sweet and harmless questions, so I've dipped into some outside-the-small-talk-box thinking.  At the grocery store this week, after the cashier wishing me good luck with twins plus one I looked him straight in the eyes and said, "You should pray for me.  Even if you aren't the praying type. Ok. Have a great night!"

Car seats - There are now three car seats in the back of my Vue. To say that buckling Thomas in takes a knack for contortion would be quite the underestimation.  In one particularly dismal attempt to hear that sweet click Thomas said from his scrunched position beneath my arm, "We're in a nightmare." Yep. That about sums it up.

Stretch Marks - I'm at the Valentine's Day card stage.  You know the ones that are cheap illusions: turn it slightly to the left and it's Sponge Bob with hearts in his eyes; turn it slightly to the left and it's Patrick drooling. Turn me slightly to the left and my belly appears unscathed.  Turn me slightly to the right and my stretch marks say Why, hellllloooo there!  Yep. It's awesome in a I-can't-believe-this-is-happening-to-my-body-and-there's-nothing-I-can-do-to-stop-it-now kind of way.

Names - For once, something exactly like my pregacrazy with Thomas.  We picked out names quickly.  I love them.  But I've also gone over them a disturbing amount of times in my head, in the shower, and in any space where I find myself alone and able to whisper their names obsessively aloud as if the 1,238,257th time doing so will elicit some kind of aha! kind of finality to the decision.  I did the same thing with Thomas's name, questioning it over and over until the end even though we both knew that's what we wanted.  I'm a bit of a commitment-phobe.  I'm absolutely the last person on Earth to consider getting a tattoo. You think I'm joking. I'm not. The commitment of permanent art on my body would send me right over the edge.  The thought that one of the twins' names will be superior to the other sends my eyes into a twitching fit.  When you finally do hear the names, just be grateful you didn't have to pick out two at the same time and feel free to say something encouraging to me like, "I'm glad you decided to not let your children go nameless" -or- "Oh great. You thought to pick out two!"

NICU - We did the general tour of labor and delivery this weekend. Then we asked to see the NICU.  It just so happened there were twin babies the exact gestation as the boys. As soon as I saw the first teeny tiny little baby girl curled up I announced to everyone I was going to cry.  And then I cried. Not because the NICU was scary or that I was sad we will very, very likely be spending a great deal of time there, but because I was so touched to see a sweetie the same size as my babies. It made me want to meet them SO bad... but not enough to go into labor and then hole up in the NICU for three months.

Numbers - 28 1/2 lbs gained.  28 1/2 weeks pregnant.  3 - 7 weeks left until I kiss my boys.

22 weeks

24 weeks

25 weeks or so

28 weeks