At least one of us is happy.

I thought I knew...

So, I wanted to move to Oregon after I am done training as a midwife. My goal is to turn in my paperwork December 2011. I say wanted because my friend Allison just moved with her family of five (http://http//goofymama.blogspot.com/) and I don't like it. I certainly didn't see her every day, but I knew that she was near by. She is awesome and her family is awesome and she came and took care of my children when I was really sick with child(ren). She is an amazing photographer and she thinks her thoughts in a very kick-ass sort of a way. Anyways...

I am realizing that if I think it sucks this bad potentially never see my one friend again, how bad it would be to not see any of my friends again. Except for on holidays, which aren't that often. I could move everyone away, but then I would be away from them. And as awesome as Oregon is, I just don't think that it is worth it. So I think now my new goal will be to travel every year, and then when the kids are all grown up, move. Or at least buy some land out there.

Or maybe go to New Zealand for a year. (I know, Oregon and New Zealand are very different, but I want to live in both places). You can always go somewhere for a year and then come back.

For what it's worth, Allison plans on moving to Vermont. Frickin' tree covered mountains.

Duluth

What was he doing with his hand? And his face?

Isn't it beautiful?

We went up early in the morning. Perfect day. Wonderful weather. The kids were amazing all day. Hardly any complaining. The first thing we did was rent a bike that fit everyone. Except it was basically just the two of us pedaling. Up hills. Both ways.

Then we went to Gooseberry Falls, which was so beautiful. Then hiked to the lake, which was again, up hill. Both ways.

Ate well, enjoyed each other so much. What a perfect "day"cation. Har har.

If I sit...

I attempt to sit
Immediate defense mode
Two babies nursing


So seriously. If I sit down, that means I want to nurse. Every time I try to check my email, check facebook, eat a meal, pee on the pot, drive a car, plant a garden, drink cold coffee, or sit in a chair, there are immediately one to two babies in my space.

I love them so much. I really do. Period.

And...

I have realized that I need a vacation. Not a couple hours away from everyone. But like, a week. In Hawaii. Or Oregon. By myself, or with a friend. No family. (maybe my husband...but then I would have to be "wifely" which isn't part of my vacation)

A beach. A drink. A book. A massage. Quiet.

For a week.

The lady

What's that sound?

Gentle screams at night
You wake him up most gently
Like a fire truck


So my little sweet daughter. Number five. Baby of the family. Has the most shrill scream (his is only second best) and she loves to use it at its fullest at 2am. And 2:15 and 3:10 and 3:45...there does seem to be a pattern. I can go about three days before spending part of the night in another bed. They don't do this for my husband. Just for me.

Actually, not for me. They want my boobs. If one is nursing, the other must nurse. It is an epic battle. One in which I am starting to lose.

I am all about child led weaning, and plan on nursing for another year at least, but holy balls people...something's gotta give.

How do you night wean twins?

I don't speak...

First day of school clothes
Five children in a small space
Some of them pooping



So this haiku means I took the kids to Kohls for first day of school (does anyone hear angels singing) clothing. I buy pretty much everything at the Value Thrift store, which is a great store, but for first day of school clothing, I let them buy new. I haven't ever been into Kohls before (awesome store!) and I noticed immediately the massive amount of crap the store has shoved into it for our enjoyment and discount pleasure. Babies stay in the cart for maybe....one minute? Maybe? The girls all need my help. They all want sparkly hooker clothing made in just their size. Nope. No. Not that. No. Nope...okay, you can get that. That is too small. Yes, it is too small, I am looking at you wearing it, and it doesn't fit. It is too small!!! Whatever, you can get it, but you have to get the next size up.

Thomas the Train jammies...to which my son replys "choo choo". So cute. Baby girl poops. No diaper, no wipes. Haul everyone to the bathroom and use the brown paper towels they have. Naked butt happening, but I figure that there is so much crap in the store, if she pees no-one will notice (she didn't).

Go back out. The babies head off in two different directions. Mens department and purses. Big girls want socks. I say no. More bickering between us, with what was supposed to be a fun time, now just getting dirty looks from other customers. (Okay, this all could have been in my mind.) The babies are probably kidnapped at this point, who knows where they are. I see them every 30 seconds running through the aisles. I yell for the sisters to keep track of the babies. Baby boy comes back and has also pooped. Off to the bathroom for another makeshift diaper change.

Come back, decide to get the Thomas jammies, yell at the kids to MAKE A DECISION and declare to them that I am leaving now!!

Attempt to leave. Spot a candle that I have to have, check out, and manage to spend 118.00 on three new first day of school outfits, a couple extra shirts and pants for big girls, two Thomas the train jammies (which they are wearing) matching outfit for the girl baby, and a couple of shirts for him.

But hey, I saved 187.00 they say.

When I sit down...

When I sit down it means I want to nurse. So I haven't blogged in three months. If I am not fighting off two two years olds, I am yelling at my kids to stop bickering.

So maybe instead of trying to be witty and actually writing a whole paragraph every day, I could just haiku. So in honor of my family, I am going to attempt to write something every day. Be prepared to be bored. My life is ordinary.

In honor of my uterus

I really felt drawn to share in this moment. Some of you will understand and some of you might not, but that is okay.



I just got my period. A couple of hours ago. For the first time in three years. I feel overwhelmingly sad and sweet and gentle and womanly about it.

This is the very last time I ever get to get my period back for the first time. My womb, that has held five babies in it, is going to be forever empty.

It brought me into my womanhood at the tender age of twelve, when I was walking home from school on a spring afternoon. I felt a small trickle, and it quickly turned into a flood. I was so excited and spent many a day just waiting to change my pad! I was laid low by fierce cramps at times, and even stayed home from school when my mom would let me.

I carried my first daughter in my womb for almost ten months. It didn't ever fail me, even when my birth attendants did. It was my uterus that saved the day, in spite of bright lights and medications and people who didn't believe in me.

And it didn't fail to hold my husbands seed (that is sperm ladies *I am waxing poetic here*)when it realized that I needed my second daughter in my life, long before I did. It held her in tightly and kept her safe while I was scared and all alone. But I found a home in my home and pushed her out, so sweetly, and learned about the fetal ejection reflex and posterior presentation.

And again, it was there for me with my third daughter. It held her in safe and sound when I was puking my guts out. It got her out when I felt I couldn't. Because it knew the way. It was very well used by her.

And I bled after four months with each child. No matter how many I was nursing.

But then I let out three eggs. And each became a child. And then three became two, and they decided to stay with me. And my uterus protected them. And stretched with them. And housed my placenta's that nourished them.

And then it let me have my sweet babies. After fourty weeks. And I didn't bleed at all.

And now, TWO years later, I haven't bled for three years. Until today. My husband holds me and let's me cry that I can't have anymore babies. We made the choice together not to. I get too sick. I understand it. But it is so bittersweet to know that I will bleed every month and carry no more babies in my belly. It is really really sad and....quiet.

I am a mother. I am a doula. I am a (almost) midwife. And this is a new journey for me. Please think of me as I go into a place in my life where I don't have a tiny one.


I really wish I had my red tent tonight.

Our children learn from us

Morning time.

Mooooooooooooooooom? Mama? MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMoooooooooooooooom! MOM!

SHE WON'T HELP ME MAKE THE BED!!!!! I HAVE TO DO IT ALL BY MYSELF!!! SHE HAS TO CLEAN THE LIVINGROOM!!! Yes you do have to clean the livingroom, you wouldn't help me with our room and I am NOT DOING BOTH!! MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM...she says she doesn't have to do it and you have to tell her she does becauseIamnotdoingitIalreadycleanedourroomandsheislazyand notdoinganything!!!!

MMMMMMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!
YOU HAVE TO CLEAN THE YOGURT BOWL, YOU ATE IT. I DIDN'T!!

Why aren't you answering me?????MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mama. Mom, answer me. Tell her she has to clean the livingroom.

She called me a butthole.







No school today. Oh joy.

The day of the midwife is tomorrow

I gave birth to my babies at home in the water. In honor of my midwife, I thought that I would share some of my story by taking sentences from the birth as I wrote it. Thank you, my most sweet and dear friend. It is an honor to have you in my life. I know you will never see this though, because you hate the Internet.

~There were three heartbeats in my body, all beating in our own rhythm.

~I had talked with my midwife and we agreed that however they decided to come out was fine with us.

~I felt so strongly that the intensity was an integral part of birth.

~There are many women in my village, and I am so blessed to have them.

~And then, with my hand over my head, I gently pushed him out into the water.

~My body didn't hurt, I wasn't bleeding and I was still pregnant!

~I am so happy that I had that time to rest between babies.

~It was the most intense contraction I have ever felt in my life, and then she was there.

~They were born an hour and a half apart.

~Two babies, two boobs...it should work out! And it did.

~We lay there, the three of us. A journey completed.

~Two babies, one womb. I am so blessed.

Thank you, my midwife, for trusting in women and their babies. It changes the world.

Making the bed, as usual

Disclaimer: You quite possibly see my ass in some of this video...so ick...sorry!

"next blog"

I don't know what information blogspot has on me, but when I used to hit "next blog" I would get random blogs, half of which were in a different language. Now they are all entitled things like "Random Musings" and "A little spark of madness" and "I Heart Jesus" (which is apparently happening because I am Christian and have said something about that...somewhere?) and of course, "Shiny Ginger Thoughts" where all of his thoughts are shiny and his hair is gingery.

Anyways, what I am getting at is all of the "next blog" arrows put me into basically three places. The first is about twins, babies, twin babies, pregnant people or homeschooling people. What choice do I have but to go back in the blog and read the birth stories? The latest one was getting an epi at three cm (of course she had a scheduled c-section in place for 41 weeks) and in the end only had a forceps delivery with a 3rd degree tear. And I can't say to them..."Hey! Don't know you but think your doctors might have screwed you over. Congratulations on the baby!"

The second one is all about knitters. Lots of knitting blogs. Lots and lots of lovely knit things to admire.

And then there is Jesus.

My husband and my daughter

My attempt at taking a "nice" picture

Centipedes are gross

So, I spent WAY TO LONG putting together the train tracks for the babies the other day, but I was proud of how simply I did it.

Sidenote: I am someone who likes the biggest and best of everything. I will always choose the most expensive thing, without even knowing the price. It is like a built in quality control button that is always going off. Luckily I pretty much shop at the thrift store and off of Craiglist (love) and I am getting better in my old age about being patient and waiting for the right price for something, rather then the other way around (buy now, pay later). I will always pull the Pottery Barn/Ralph Lauren bedding off the Goodwill rack and honestly, I am not surprised by it.

So I am doing really well with my Thomas the Train obsession. I haven't bought the roundhouse for my Mr. I also haven't bought the crane or the coal mine and I am mostly okay with my simple train table (ahem, if you are reading this and you have a roundhouse or coalmine your kids have outgrown, I will take it). I took a long while just putting the train tracks into a circle around the outside of the train table. That way they can go in a circle and it is fun to watch them.


The problem that I am having is that they don't realize how hard I work for them. They think that it is fun to take the track apart. It is best when many pieces come out at once. They also enjoy beating the crap out of each other with the tracks. And throwing the trains at each other. And standing on the table. And of course, peeing on the table. And the ground. And the bed.

My little boy baby is also having issues with his sister being very interested in what is hanging between his legs(I forget what it's called). She sees how much he enjoys playing with it, and I think might think that it is detachable. Her attempts to take it off of him have met with much resistance. It would help his cause if the boy would let me put clothing on him. He won't though, and while some children go limp, he goes limp plus 90 degrees the other way. I have never seen anything like it.

I am rambling so I am going to go now.

My kids feet smell like chicken poop and that's gross.

And oh yeah...the reason for my blog title: The Mr. put a centipede in his mouth this weekend and so I had to touch a centipede. And Ms. Rebecca came over today and found a centipede in my clean laundry bin and so now you all know what condidtion my basement is in. We sounded like small children the way we screamed. She was very manly and killed it for us though. Go Rebecca!

Little Miss Ladypants

I get less sleep then you do

This is my husband. See how nice and asleep he is? See how he has space to...oh, I don't know...put a leg up? Stretch out an arm and touch nothing? Not have the back of a baby head crack them in the face when they aren't awake yet (Hi Aileen! How's your face?). See how he sleeps so nicely even though I am awake with everyone else?

Now let's investigate my sleeping space:



A closer look perhaps?


I personally see a little bit of a difference between his sleeping space and mine. Notice how he is lacking the guys? I generally sleep with anywhere between 20 to 70 guys at a time. Depends on how hard they have been fighting. They have been busy this morning doing fierce battle and have made a little nest in my hair with which to rest their heads. I also enjoy guy shaped indentations on my thighs after a night of hard sleep. We have bonded, the guys and I.

If you will notice, the ladypants (miss little girl) has decided to clean the guys and also the mama. She has apparently come to the conclusion that we are very dirty (aren't all women who sleep with 70 guys?) and has unfurled an entire box of wipes in order to clean everything in the area.

I haven't even begun the whole nursing thing. And just how much I do of it all night long. (alot)
He thinks that just because he gets up at 6:30 every morning that he gets to sleep in until 8am on Saturday. Well I say....NEVER!!! (think....NEVAAAAA!!!)

And just for the record. I get less sleep then he does. But damn if the man doesn't put all five kids to sleep every single night. It is the shit.

Thomas

When I was a pre-teen in Germany, my friends Amy and Sarah stalked a poor boy named Thomas. And if I could call it something other then stalking, I would. That is really what it was. He was unfortunate enough to somewhat resemble Joe from NKOTB (New Kids on the Block people!!!!). We were in seventh grade and quite in love with Joe. *sigh* Back to Thomas. We had cheers for him.


I * L * O * V * E * T * H * O * M * A * S (Imagine the *'s are pauses)

Well...I guess you had to be there. We yelled this below his balcony. We followed him as he walked. We hated his "girl" friends. We knew his class schedules. We knew what he ate. I am sure he still remembers us quite well. Poor boy.


Anyway, the reason I am saying this is that I have another Thomas in my life.



the Train....


My mister has a whole room to himself and his train bed and train table. I will have to take pictures. Someday, when he finds another world not attached to my boob, he might stay the night in it.

Space in my world

Truths as I know them:

~The air is better within 10 inches of my body. That is why the children must always be so close. So very very close. Like right now. There are two of them sitting on me, trying to help me type.

~Pants are always better when they are dried in the dryer. They fit a little tighter. More snug you could say. And they show more ankle, which is my personal favorite. Always a chance of flooding in the spring you know. Lovin' it! Have I mentioned that it is difficult to find pants when you are pear shaped and are 5'9?

~Children are better when they are louder. My kids have figured this out early in life to save me the trouble of wondering where they are.

~ It doesn't make you old when you listen to Radio Disney for twenty minutes in your car before you realize that you are the only one in the car. I just really appreciate Hanna Montana's music is all.

Lack of blogging

You can't really blog when you gave up the computer for 40 days.

Drive your truck

My babies are sick and the mr puked on me this morning. Luckily I was able to use that excuse to get a shower first thing. It was so nice. I was so clean. And then, when I got out of the shower, my eldest brought us a surpise breakfast in bed!! Mr. Pristeraddalister needed to nurse, and then not to be outdone, so did my Mistress Ladypants. (Those are the newest names.) I know that you could confuse Mistress Ladypants for something a little more New Orleans brothel"esque", but I assure you, she is nothing of the sort! She is a lady and therefore wears her ladypants. After all, where else are her ladyparts suppose to go?

But I digress...

The babies are sick. But it doesn't stop them from being awesome. For instance, my mr came up to me today with a bulldozer toy and after he nursed, he started to play with it. He was making this crazy noise, and I didn't pay it much attention until my husband said "He is making a bulldozer noise". I asked him to make his own bulldozer noise and I am not kidding...they were the same noise! Then Miss Ladypants came in holding a Barbie (and yes, we are THOSE kind of parents) and climbed into bed, looked at me, and said clear as day "Barbie". And then cussed me out because how dare I nurse him and not her.

So I got to nurse a boy and a girl and a barbie and a bulldozer.

Now I am on a coffee break. Which is not to be confused with using any excuse to not clean my house.

I love my life

I am realizing more and more how much I am going to miss babies. I have no regrets on having five children. Each one is just as amazing as the one before, and has their own awesomeness. But now that my babies are not tiny...I realize that there are things that have been in my life for so long now, that when they are gone, there will be an empty space left.

The first thing that I will miss will be toys in the bathtub. I usually spend at least at least a minute having to put the toys away every single time I want to use the tub. There are pouring toys and stacking toys and squirting toys of all colors. My kids all think the more the better! It will suck when that is gone. I really love it.

The second thing is a child in my bed. I love co-sleeping with my babies. Army guys scattered under the sheets, bitten books under the pillows, a foot in the eye...All too soon we will be alone again in the bed. What the hell do we do then?

The third thing is that I am the center of their world right now. Over time that disappears and friends and boyfriends take my spot. I see it happening even with my nine year old. She doesn't want to hold my hand in public. It sucks. Luckily my babies want to be with me because they think I rock. I wish they would stop growing up.

The fourth thing is the world becomes a brighter place when your naked. Feeling bad, sad, mad...just hurt yourself? Get naked! It solves all sorts of problems.


Anyway, the babies have found me so now I have to nurse. Which is another thing I will miss.

And of course...making the bed:

Thoughts on nursing

Nursing is awesome. They are 17 months old now and have never had a bottle, which is something that I was really scared that I would have to do. Apparently I even obsessed about it while I was pregnant...which I have no memory of. Anyway, the problem is that they don't eat food. And while I am steadily losing weight, which I am not complaining about at all, they seem to be stuck.

How do you get your babies to eat food, when they won't eat? I offer every single thing that I eat. I offer baby food, I offer hand held food, spoons and forks to eat with, hands to eat with, yogurt, veggies, cookies, pasta, protien...I am at a loss. So this blog posting is more asking a question...how do you get a baby to eat when they "don't wanna"?

Quote of the day:

Do veterinarians eat cheese pizza?
~second born kid

Jammies

My poodle headed noodle

My mr

Battles

To start off with, my room is freezing because my sister is staying with us and she needs the space heater. We also need the space heater because the vent doesn't get to our room really well, so it is always cold in here. But she is on the finished porch, where it can get really cold, so she wins. And she's growing a baby....

I am snuggled up warm under the covers. It's approx 8am. The babies have woken to play with the guys, and fierce battle is raging. The little girl is sitting on my arm, and mr. is sitting knee deep in the thick of things, surrounded on all sides.

I feel a hot wetness, but know that she has a diaper on. Still, knowing that it must be escaping from somewhere, I move towards the mr. Within oh...I'd say about seven second, I feel a hot wetness on my back, coming from the thick of things. I scramble up and give both babies a stern talking to about how it's not nice to pee on your mother. They listen politely.

I take off the offending diapers and go to the bathroom (and to get wipes and fresh diapers). I am gone less then a minute. When I come back in the room, he is crying and sitting on the guys, which must feel bad with a bare butt. I can't understand why he would be sitting on them, because I can't see anything and have to find glasses to know what could possibly have changed in one minute.

Well, he pooped you see. On my bed. All over my sheets. And in order to avoid sitting on the poop, he moved over to sit on the guys. Only they are plastic and it was pokey.

I grab him up, clean him off, take off the sheets and towel (from the pee) and decide that before my day goes any further, I need coffee. This was an actual thought. I might have even said it out loud. I need coffee. Knowing that it is waiting for me downstairs, I quickly go down where I am then informed by my sister (who is warm at night due to my sacrifice I might add) that she has had the last cup of coffee.

And we are out off coffee.

So to sum up my morning, I am cold, I am wet, I have despised laundry to do, and I am tired. Plus, I also noticed that my son's poop looks seedy and mustardy, which tells you just how little food he eats (although he is offered at least six-eight times a day) and just how much he nurses.

Well, the guys have been through their first real battle, so I suppose I should go and clean them up.

My first pair of socks!

Little boy feet in newly knitted socks!!

Trucky duckies

So my sister comes in (as I am attempting to make my bed) and laughs and says, "Wow, so this is what you listen to when you become a mom". I just look at her and say "Oh, she is THE BEST, believe me!!! After you hear all of the crap kids music that is out there, you will fully embrace Laurie Berkner and the Laurie Berkner band!!"

For instance, right this second, I am listening to a song about driving my truck!! And I know every single word. I could be a fork lifter, or a bull dozer. And I have to pull my truck into the truck stop, oh yeah, pull my truck into the truck stop and fill her up!

And the most awesomest thing is that the songs are fun to sing and dance to!! Yay, fruit salsa!

I would go on, but I have to attempt to make my bed...although it is really hard when everyone is dancing on it. We are trucks, you know.

Put a positive spin on things!

He dumped a ton of cleaning supplies of the kitchen floor. On the upside, the floor is clean and we only use non-toxic cleaners. And he apparently knows how to get past my tried and true method of keeping babies out of cabinets, which is to tie a cloth around the handles.

She got orange marker all over her pants. And her hands. And her face. On the upside, the pants are awesome because I knit them! And the marker is washable.

The babies are sick with a cold.
Again.
For the gajillionith time this winter. On the upside, they shared it with me! I didn't want to be left out afterall.

I seemed to have misplaced something.

The soft sweet embrace of night. The warm flannel sheets freshly washed and on the bed. -40 degree wind chill outside seems but a distant memory. Freshly shaved legs slip into bed. Pull up the down comforter with the Pottery Barn duvet cover that you bought on eBay. It's winter in Minnesota. The chai tea has made you warm and tired. You look over to your sleeping husband, and resist the urge to smack him because you have remembered...you don't get to sleep. Is it really his fault? One could argue yes (because again, you are sleepy).

You have twins. Lovely non sleeping, fight over the boob, roll on each other and fall off the bed, twins. They cry a lot at night. They teeth a lot at night. They have stuffy noses. They have coughs. They neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed you. Not anyone else. Just you. (and sometimes papa) Life is terrible if they can't preform acrobatics on the boob at 1am. They wake each other up. They wake you up. They get out of bed. They can't get back into bed. You end up sleeping in the crib sidecarred to your bed.

I would trade my 17 month olds for newborns any day when it comes to sleep...or the lack thereof. Remind me of this when I am 60 and have no kids at home though...because maybe it is the lack of sleep talking, but I think that I am really going to miss it when it's gone.