Two wooden spoons

I don't want to be awake for this

2011-12-15T06:45:00.000-08:00

My nine year old woke me at 6:30 this morning to tell me that Ricky Bobby had a bird in his mouth. I was surprised by this because it is December and I don't feed birds because I have a bird killer named Ricky Bobby. He is one of my black and white cats. He is an avid hunter and while I feel sad about it, I am also happy to say that as a cat owner, I have never had a mouse in my house.

So I go downstairs to get my shoes on to go outside and get the bird away from him. I walked into the kitchen where it quickly became apparent that Rick and the bird were not outside. They were on my kitchen counter. And the bird was freshly caught and very much alive. I praised him for him hunting prowess and grabbed him by the scruff and paws. He let go of the bird.

And the bird flew away.

In my house.

Down into my basement.

The kids of course loved this. I however wondered if I could somehow sneak back in bed before the babies woke up and I could catch the bird later. Alas, it was not to be. Down the stairs I went, where we looked for 15 minutes for a tiny little sparrow. The girls had to get on the bus so the oldest took over with me. (She goes to middle school and they start late) We eventually found him shoved behind the fish tank. I went to grab him and found that he can fly really well. He flew all over and landed in the fish tank water. He freed himself and off he went up the stairs into the kitchen. On the top of the fridge, behind the fridge, on the stove, and onto the pita chips.

I was by this point, completely awake and more interested in getting a good picture then getting the bird. Which I did. I caught the bird nestled in between the pita chips and the quinoa. Very cute bird. We opened the door, and let him go. The babies woke up. I wonder if it is a warning on the kind of day I am going to have?

Gah!

2011-12-13T16:35:00.000-08:00

Woke up a couple of days ago to the entire house being toilet papered. Apparently the babies let me sleep in. Thanks babies! Now instead of taking that as a warning of the type of day that it would be, I decided that it would be a good idea to go to the Mall of America. Christmas presents aren't going to buy themselves!

We got to the MOA and had some lunch. I went there for two things. One was long dangling earring for my oldest two girls and a Build A Bear GC for my middle. We walked into Claire's where the boy immediately went to the back of the store and grabbed a handful of necklaces and took them off the wall. I took them away (the girl was staring in awe of everything girl in the store) and was attempting to take them apart to put them back onto the wall in the right spots when this older woman (I think she was moody because she had to work at Claire's a bunch of seventeen year old) came up to me and "offered" to put the necklaces away. I told her I could do it and she said that she insisted and that I should then "go and get my son".

Hackles rose.

I will admit it. I become quite bitchy when someone judges me based on one witnessed event that is neither here nor there. What I wanted to say was "These penny necklaces made in China by 6 year old's that will immediately break but not before turning your neck green are just fine, woman" mixed with a big "B***h, back the f**k off" (Where did my God fearing Christian womanhood go in that moment?)

Instead I said quite haughtily, "I take my business elsewhere". Too bad for Claire's because they must not have realized that I have FOUR girls that LOVE the crap at Claire's.

We left and went to Build A Bear, which went well. As we were walking back through Nordstroms, I decided to check out the kids section, where I was able to find some earrings 50% off. As we were leaving, my son knocked over a shoe. I was way over by the door (but I could see him clearly) and yelled to him to put the shoe back on the shelf and that we needed to leave.

He said "no".

By this time, my body hurt from dragging these kids around. They had run crazy through every aisle when I was buying the earrings, which took way longer then it needed to. They were being crazy. I had to decide if I wanted to walk all the way back over to have him put one shoe back on the shelf.

Crap. Okay, so I tell him we pick up things that we cause to fall and that he has to put it back. He again says no, so I hold his hand to bring him back over. He immediately goes limp. I then end up dragging my child back over by the hand as him limp body dusts the rich floors of Nordstroms. He picks up the shoe and puts it back on the shelf. I say "Good job buddy".

I look up and see this lady who has witnessed the whole thing. I brace myself. She speaks and says "Good job mama".

I try to remember that when later that night they cover my house in a Costco size bag of pancake mix.

Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree...

2011-12-05T16:22:00.000-08:00

I looked back at a post of mine from when the babies were 15 months old and how I was nervous to have a tree. I wish I could go back and say "WOMAN!!! Don't you know that one day you are going to have two THREE year olds?" Save the drama!!

It is so bad, my friends. So bad. I don't think I will survive and I am positive the tree won't.

This day has been one big sigh

2011-12-05T16:12:00.000-08:00

Last night the boy slept poorly. He kept waking up and complaining about his tummy hurting. Or I wish he woke up and complained...he more, screamed at me and flailed around and didn't want me to touch him but still somehow wanted to be able to sleep on my head. His lovely Thomas the Train room still sits untouched. But that is a whole other post.

We pulled down the blinds in our room so that they would sleep in. Didn't work. I am not sure if I have explained how breakfast in my house has worked in the last three months. If I could just skip over it completely every day I would. This is all from my son.

Do you want an untoasted peanut butter bagel? No.
Do you want cereal? No.
Do you want toast? No.
Do you want an egg? No.
Do you want some milk? No.

Well, I guess you aren't going to eat today.... I want a bagel!!! (scream)

Okay, would you like an untoasted peanut butter bagel? No.
Do you want it toasted? No.
Do you want cream cheese? No.
Do you want butter? No.

Well, I guess you aren't going to eat today..... I want peanut butter!!!! (scream)

Okay, would you like a plate? No.
Would you like to put it on the bagel? No, yes.

He starts to put it on the bagel, it doesn't go on smoothly, I take over and tada, one untoasted peanut butter bagel. Which he may or may not eat depending on his mood.

I am stressed out just writing this post. And have I mentioned the Christmas tree?

FYI

2011-12-03T08:48:00.000-08:00

Squash is not a ball. No matter how lightly you throw it, it will break.

Too much tech in the house

2011-12-02T16:00:00.000-08:00

So this just happened. My daughter came down crying and said that her sister wouldn't let her lay on the bed to watch a show. It is a king size bed and there is plenty of room. Rather then be a good mama and hike up two flights of stairs, I wrote a note on the computer. That is where I am sitting now, watching Warehouse 13 on megavideo.

Here is the note:

Sissypants,

This is your mother. IF YOU DO NOT KNOCK IT OFF, you will be grounded from the TV, computer, phones, Wii, Netflix, Nook, and iPad.

Say SORRY to your beautiful sister. She is a sweet girl, and doesn’t deserve your anger or mistreatment.

IF YOU CONTINUE your bad behavior, you will be in SERIOUS trouble.

SO KNOCK IT OFF IMMEDIATELY!!!

Your mother.

The list of technology is mind blowing. How did it make its way into my house? Now back to Warehouse 13.

Out of the mouths of...

2011-12-02T14:34:00.000-08:00

So I made the mistake of calling my kids things that have the word "butt" in it. Like butthead, buttcrack, stinkybutt, and other things that I won't write down because it looks like bad parenting. Normally this is not a problem. I have a bunch of girls that don't notice. They might say things like "Stop being such a butthead", or "Mom, she said that my buttcrack was hanging out and it wasn't"...or whatever. But they aren't mean to each other when they say these things.

So for instance, when my daughter comes home from school, I might say, "Hey, buttcrack! How was school today?" and she would respond with "Good" or "I have homework" or something along those lines. My son, however, doesn't understand that these words are supposed to be said in jest.
He has started to call everyone a butthead when he is mad. So, he will say, "STOP IT BUTTHEAD" when his sister takes something from him. Or if I won't let him do something he wants to do, he will call me a butthead and give me the evil eye.

It had gotten the point where he was saying it at least 100 times a day. Sometimes for fun and sometimes because he is mad. The other day I spent 30 minutes talking to him about hurting feelings and name calling (me having set such a good example) and how he isn't allowed to call someone a butthead when he feels angry. He ended up apologizing and we moved forward five minutes and he was back at it. This happened less and less until yesterday he wasn't saying it much.

I told him that he was doing a great job using kind words and he said (in all sincerity) "Thank you Mermaid Buttcrack!"

And off he ran.

The girl

2011-12-01T08:30:00.000-08:00

What the what!

2011-12-01T08:20:00.000-08:00

All I wanted to do was go to the bathroom in peace. So I shut the door.

(insert doomful music here)

Did you know that if you leave a bottle of hotsauce on the kitchen counter that two three years olds will see it? Oh, they will. I walked into the kitchen in an attempt to do something productive (haha) and download the dishwasher when the boy walked in to show how he was covered head to toe with red sauce. I asked him what it was as I started to look around and figure out if the washcloth sitting in the sink was clean enough to wash him with...and he said that "girl said to do it". Hmmmm.

Hot sauce. All over him. Okay, where did you do this thing? In the big girls room. On the bed. All over the bedding, pillows, windows, walls and floor. And this, my friends, is why I don't have time to blog.

The boy

2011-12-01T08:18:00.000-08:00

At least one of us is happy.

2010-08-23T21:02:00.000-07:00

I thought I knew...

2010-08-23T20:51:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-23T13:37:00.001-07:00

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...

2010-08-21T08:13:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-20T19:05:00.000-07:00

What's that sound?

2010-08-20T08:00:00.000-07:00

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...

2010-08-19T17:59:00.000-07:00

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...

2010-08-19T17:46:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-21T20:50:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-07T07:46:00.000-07:00

Morning time.

2010-05-07T07:38:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-04T08:49:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-29T13:06:00.001-07:00

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

"next blog"

2010-04-21T20:44:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-20T20:26:00.000-07:00

My attempt at taking a "nice" picture

2010-04-19T15:41:00.000-07:00

Centipedes are gross

2010-04-19T14:28:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-18T19:37:00.000-07:00

I get less sleep then you do

2010-04-17T18:56:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-15T14:21:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-14T14:10:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-08T05:53:00.000-08:00

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

Drive your truck

2010-02-07T07:54:00.001-08:00

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

2010-01-29T07:59:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-27T08:03:00.000-08:00

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:

2010-01-23T20:19:00.003-08:00

Do veterinarians eat cheese pizza?
~second born kid

Jammies

2010-01-20T07:21:00.000-08:00

My poodle headed noodle

My mr

Battles

2010-01-20T06:59:00.001-08:00

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!

2010-01-17T10:22:00.000-08:00

Little boy feet in newly knitted socks!!

Trucky duckies

2010-01-17T09:59:00.000-08:00

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!

2010-01-14T19:45:00.000-08:00

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.

2010-01-08T10:51:00.001-08:00

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.

A family portrait

2009-12-28T08:31:00.000-08:00

They look like cell phone bars

2009-12-28T08:30:00.000-08:00

It's always better with cat hair

2009-12-28T08:14:00.000-08:00

I gave both of the babies cream cheese bagels this morning. Just ripped a good sized chunk off of mine. She daintily ate hers, making sure that no cream cheese got on her hands. She also wrapped her baby in a towel, put it into the stroller, took it on a walk and did a little dance.

Meanwhile, what cream cheese didn't get smeared onto his face, hands, hair or clothing, was covered in what I think was carpet fibers and black cat hair. He quite enjoyed it, really. I am choosing to think of it as roughage. Good for the gut.

Christmas is over...

2009-12-27T08:07:00.000-08:00

Presents unwrapped, toys all over the place. My clean house is a disaster. Baby boy loves his cars and baby girl loves her doll. Big girls got awesome digital camera's for kids from my father in law.

I received an awesome GC to the yarn store...so I will have to finish up my socks and pants for the babies (almost done with both) and start on something new! The second born is turning EIGHT and I want to make her something.

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-22T10:41:00.000-08:00

Sick babies

2009-12-11T20:18:00.000-08:00

My babies have been sick. My patience has been sorely tested. I haven't had a computer to facebook about it.

Very frustrating.

Oh Christmas Tree...Oh Christmas Tree...where can I hide in thee?

2009-12-03T13:27:00.000-08:00

So.

I think that I am going to get a Christmas tree tomorrow. We always have a real one. Some years (when we had one child or two children) we even went to a tree farm and cut them down and hauled them back to our car. The year before last we got one that was so prickly we had to wear gloves to decorate it. I was pregnant with the twins and really sick and so I took joy in something that funny. It was a good Christmas. Last year we picked a tree out that, I thought, was a good size. Not too big, not too small. Of course, in hindsight, you can't really tell the size when it is -24 degrees outside and everything is frozen solid and pre-wrapped for transport. We have a fairly small house and that was the biggest tree we as a married couple, have ever had. It was huge in our tiny house! I loved it!

I want a Christmas tree. The problem is that this year we have two mobile fifteen month olds. How do I get my tree and keep them alive? What to do....what to do...I can half decorate it. Plain on the bottom, full on the top. I can put a huge baby gate around it (someone has said that they would lone one to me). I can put it in the porch. I can get a small one. But really, I want a great big huge tree fully decorated that the babies will leave alone. I wonder what the chances would be that they just don't notice it:

Ball in the house

2009-12-03T09:00:00.000-08:00

Why does he always have that look on his face? And yes, he is wearing her clothes.

Mmmmmmm....what's that smell?

2009-12-01T07:50:00.000-08:00

Every once in awhile, when I am trying to get something done, I will let the babies play in the fridge. They take all of the salad dressings out, the mustard's and mayonnaise's...and all in all, have a pretty good time. I get the dishes put away, or the counter scrubbed. One thing is the same though, I am always in the room with them.

Until today.

I decided that because the boy baby was so well occupied, I would run upstairs and get dressed. The girl baby followed me upstairs and we got involved in heavy peek-a-boo play, and the next thing I know, the boy baby is upstairs too...and he had an interesting smell to him. He smelled like deep rich dark chocolate. Interesting, I thought to myself. We don't have any dark chocolate in the house. However; he is covered in chocolate from head to toe. At that point, I decided I didn't want to know, so I chose to believe that he had discovered a random rather large chocolate piece on the floor and smeared it all over himself. That was my last thought about it, until I asked the middle child to run and grab the camera because the girl baby was telling me all about her picture that she drew and it is friggin' hilarious to watch her talk to me like I understand what she is saying. I still haven't managed to catch this on camera.

Middle child went downstairs to get the camera, but a loud "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWW" was soon declared on the stairs. "Baby girl pooped all over the stairs!!!" she exclaims! Impossible I think! I have been playing with her this whole time and I haven't smelled anything poopy at all. She didn't have a diaper on though, so I thought she might have slipped one past me. It has been known to happen. So tromping down the stairs we go, where I discover that it isn't, in fact, poop.

But chocolate.

Dark rich chocolate. Dark rich smeared into the carpet chocolate cheesecake. From Thanksgiving. That my mother brought and I forgot was in the fridge.

So I cleaned it up and ate a piece. You know...to make sure it wasn't poison.

Little girls, little girls, everywhere I look they're just...little

2009-11-30T20:47:00.001-08:00

It is all quiet on the home front. Comfy and warm inside my house. All the lights are off and the big ones asleep in their beds. There is only a soft glow from my computer gently lighting the room. The fact that it took me an hour to get onto the Internet is irrelevant. My computer is crap and I am broke. As I like to say....whatevs...

So, anyway, back to the soft glow.

There is this sweet baby girl sitting wide awake on my lap. She is taking a tiny doll (which of course is naked because come on, clothing on a doll, it just isn't done) and wrapping it up in a piece of paper that was in my pocket. She randomly gets really excited and starts to talk to the mouse when I move it around for something. And she keeps moving my hands from the keyboard because they are in her way. She is kissing her baby. And talking quietly to her baby. She is trying to make a bed for the little baby. With the paper. Like she is the mother.

My son would just rip the paper in half and say "GAAAAAAAARRRRRR" and then pee on the floor.

2009-11-27T07:02:00.000-08:00

My babies are so amazing. They speak to each other through invisible signals and thoughts, and make each other laugh (or cry) without doing anything. The girl baby is incredibly bossy. Her newest thing to do is push her brother towards something and tell him to "go". Little poopsnot! Meanwhile, the boy baby is busy trying to choke to death on anything he can find to put in his mouth. For instance, I just pulled out 1/2 a polly pocket pant, a complete pair being too big, of course.

They are playing together constantly now, although her preference is for anything girl. And his is for anything else. She will say "Mama, mom, mom, mom, mama, mama, mom..." until I stop whatever I am doing and pick her up. It is incredibly difficult to blog...ever.

He is nursing and kicking me in the throat while she is crying at my knee.

Good times. Boring blog.

Thanksgiving

2009-11-25T13:13:00.001-08:00

I am thankful for my little sister. I am thankful for the baby she has growing in her womb and that she trusts me enough to ask me to be her midwife. I am thankful for her sense of humor and her wit and her style. I am thankful that we know each other so well now.

I am thankful that pulling out all of the cans from the cupboard keeps the babies occupied. I am thankful that I was the one who got to put them all away even though their dad was standing right there.

I am thankful for my daughter stealing the camera to take 35 pictures that look like this. I will frame them to give to her on wedding day.

I am thankful for my husbands super awesome mustache for movember. It is super awesome! Oh...I guess I already said that.

(http://www.movember.com/)

I am grateful that my neighbor wrote me a note on a brown paper bag and put it in my mailbox calling me lazy because I haven't raked my yard. Croup and scarlet fever don't count when there are leaves on the ground! And neither does the six foot tall privacy fence that makes it so you can't actually see the backyard.

And last but not least, I am grateful for my chickens. That don't lay any eggs.

My mothers bed

2009-11-24T06:40:00.000-08:00

I have noticed that my pillows on my bed seem to go missing from time to time. They are there when I make the bed in the morning, and then they are gone when I go to bed at night. This being such a busy household, I haven't had the time or energy to overly question it. It just is what it is.

Last night was so dry in my house, I couldn't breathe through my nose. I ended up with my seven year old in my bed, and of course the two babies and one husband, all which successfully drove me into the arms of another bed. I went to the room with the humidifier in it. And as I crawled into the bottom bunk (the seven year olds) I lay my head down...on all of my pillows. The pale jade silk pillow was there, a recent find from a thrift store. The small pillow and only flowery pillowcase I have was there, laying quietly next to it. My king size feather pillow with its soft sage flannel cover.

I have to wonder. What do they think of their mothers bed?

My mothers bed as a child, was possibly the coolest place in the entire world. It was there that she made her small stamp in a world filled with barbies, and dress up, and bickering, and little girls. It was there that she said...I am a grown up, hear me ROAR!!! And I loved it. I loved the yellow oak headboard with its swirling oak leaf pattern. And the dark bedding that looked like it was out of a catalog. I would crawl into it when I was allowed to, and could play there all day. My mother made her bed everyday, so we were often shooed out. I loved her bed.

So I am left with this thought. What do they think of my bed? Is it a place to hide buried treasure? A boat surrounded by sharks? Can it fly through the clouds and carry us away to a land where no-one grows up?

I hope so.

I change the linens to reflect the season, my one small gift to myself. I look at my daughters sometimes, when they lay on my bed, with the sunlight filtering through the bare branches of fall, and I know that when I walk out of the room, they will turn into fairies and my bed will be their land, and they will go off to far away places. And sometimes, I think, to hold onto a little piece of that...they will steal a pillow for their bed.

Babies

2009-11-05T19:46:00.000-08:00

A hurricane...no...a tornado!

2009-11-05T19:42:00.000-08:00

I am not kidding when I say I went to bed last night and the house was clean. I remember cleaning it. But somehow this morning I woke up and the house was in ruins. The big girls were at home with strep and scarlet fever and had taken the babies, upon waking, down to play. It took maybe fifteen minutes.

Seriously. I have never seen anything like it. I don't even know how to write about it.

How do you like this apple!!

2009-11-05T19:41:00.001-08:00

What would you type so it looks like I'm crying?

2009-10-28T08:51:00.000-07:00

Wake up this morning knowing a mom is in labor (or will be soon). That always makes you a little anxious to find childcare. Call a bunch of people but no-one answers. House is a disaster!

Decide to knit.

Upon decision to knit, the middle child decides now is a good time to learn how to knit. Take first sip of now cold coffee, look around and decide the house smells as bad as it looks, and say Sure!, I'll teach you how to knit! An hour later post "Make it stop" as your update on facebook.

Okay, so babies and knitting needles don't go together. Babies and yarn don't go together. Trying to be calm and patient when casting on for the bazillionth time after the boy baby yet again pulls the yarn off the needles...while the five year old acts like the grown up and while you want to stomp your feet and go into a full fledge tantrum. It makes you realize that now isn't the time to teach a child to knit.

I need to clone myself.

And I will leave with these questions in my brain...

Why is my house so dirty when my mom is coming over?
Why isn't anyone answering the phone?
Why do I have so much laundry to do?
Why is that stupid cat peeing on everything and how can I make him go away?

These babies are so funny

2009-10-23T08:07:00.001-07:00

These babies are hilarious. They are so different from each other. The boy baby is such a gentle spirit. He likes boy things (thank you God!). Trucks, cars, smashing things, throwing things. Playing in the toilet. *shudder* Pushing his sister down. The girl baby has a funny quirky girl spirit. She laughs all of the time. She holds baby dolls (which really is one naked cloth baby doll covered in marker). She pushes the stroller. She likes to be held by her big sisters.

They are so different. The other day the walked into a room that was shared by a boy and girl...and he walked out with a truck and she walked out with a wand.

So much for gender nuetral.

Mama and girl

2009-10-23T08:06:00.001-07:00

Where does it go?

2009-10-23T07:49:00.000-07:00

The babies are fourteen months old now. It has been over a month since I have posted last. I have tried to write things...but between the constant of my life, and the constant of my children...it just doesn't happen.

I think that if I try to see this blog as merely a way to update my family, I will be able to keep up a little more.

That said, my life as the mother of one year old twins can basically be summed up to one word.

BOOBS.

Sometimes I feel like that is the only reason they love me (kidding of course). They don't eat food yet and are surviving solely on breastmilk alone. Now, while I have enjoyed the benefits of rapid weight loss...I have also enjoyed the benefits of never sleeping. The babies nurse the whole night long. My husband is awesome, but there is nothing he can really do, because they don't want him. They want me. We have talked about night weaning, but we both know that wouldn't work because they are nursing for food, not comfort. It will be so nice when they start to eat more! We offer food a hundred times a day.

WOW, this post turned into a whine fest! (see why I haven't been posting!)

It's so loud

2009-09-21T06:57:00.001-07:00

Forget trying to answer emails. Forget trying to drink an entire cup of coffee. Forget trying to pee. Forget trying to eat breakfast. Forget trying to clean anything.

I know I have said it at least a hundred times, but does anyone know how much easier my life would be if boobs were detachable?

What is she saying exactly...

2009-09-16T20:11:00.000-07:00

If you don't mind my singing...

Red Wing

2009-09-16T19:36:00.000-07:00

So we took a family trip to Red Wing when my husband had off of work for our TEN YEAR anniversary. We took the girls' bikes along with us, so that we could bike along the river too. It was so much fun and such a cool town! I definately think we will go again this fall to take fall pictures! (How dorky is that.)

First we went and visited the world's biggest boot. Yup.:

Then I followed the babies around while they attempted to destroy things (my husband bought much needed shoes):

Someone thought it would be wonderful to hang birch branches. Those quickly became fun to walk through and see how far they would swing. Good times.

Baby girl and the poison polish selection which is conviently placed for her perusal:

Then we ate some lunch by the mighty Mississippi:

My man took way too many "artist" pictures. I will post one becuase I know he reads this.:

All in all a good September day in Minnesota.

Cleaning up

2009-09-16T19:16:00.000-07:00

So I forgot to close the bathroom door and she helped herself to some toilet paper. Made a shawl.

Helpful

2009-09-16T14:02:00.000-07:00

So we went to get my husbands hair cut at Great Clips (which is the most un-baby proofed place I have ever been to!). This is marketed as a family friendly haircutting place, and has been a decent place to get a hair cut for us. They have a couple of toys, which my babies quickly got bored with (totally fine and expected) and the girl baby reached out and grabbed a shampoo bottle while I was wrangling her brother.

*It is at this point one might ask why the big girls weren't helping. They were fighting with each other so as to make my trip as smooth as possible.*

As I was turning to go and take it out of her hand, the salon lady took it away and gave her (she is 13 months old) one of those little suckers they hand out at banks. Not only was it a red sucker, it was really really small and I have seen where they break off before. Then (to be fair of course) she gives one (wrapper off) to the boy baby too!

Now...I am pretty stinkin' laid back because I have five kids. BUT...what in the world are you supposed to do when you try to take away a sucker from two one year olds when your husband is in the middle of the haircut and the other kids are next in line.

Lucky sticky babies.

Mama and her little man

2009-08-28T09:02:00.000-07:00

Cheerios

2009-08-27T21:38:00.001-07:00

My thought process has been slowly deteriorating with each child. I do still talk rationally with my children, but I also seem to go completely insane at random times.

For instance, I used to say: "Let's change your poopy diaper" and now I say things like "Do you have stinks in your lady parts" or "You gots poops on your peni".

There are random phrases I use a lot...like:

Buckle your schmuckle.
Skooch your booch.
You got flees in your beez (I have no idea what that means)

And then when the rhyming starts, there can be a whole random paragraph that comes out...in a sing song sort of a way that makes the babies laugh (and others question my normality)

You've got a gurd in your lurd...you'se got some bees in your knees...you'se got some flud in your dud...hey poopalooch, how comes you got such a naked neck ("naked neck" being what we call the babies when they are naked) Little Mr. has a naked beezee...

My babies often go by Mr. Lister (aka Mr. Man) and Mistress Smiley Pants (aka Punkaloon).

There is a name that I call them both, although I can't remember, and I asked my husband and he can't remember, although he did laugh and say that I call them all sorts of things and he went with "twilight stars"...which isn't helpful, although probably pretty close. (I remembered this morning that it is actually beautiful dreamers)

Anyway, all of this is to say that the other day I was talking to my babies and I asked them if they wanted Cheerios. It went something like this:

Do you want some Cheerios? Babies, do want some Cheerios? Do you want some O's in your Cheerys?

And then I laughed and called myself a dork.

Tubby

2009-08-26T11:21:00.000-07:00

I put my boy baby into a bath. Fill it with toys. There are stacking toys, ships, floating toys, sinking toys...I mean LOTS of toys. Throw just a tiny bit of bubbles for a little extra fun. Perfect temperature. Great!

So where is he right now but sitting in an empty tub full of toys playing with the drain plug.

Boy baby

2009-08-26T10:59:00.000-07:00

Picture this...

I lay down the ducky towel and set naked babies on it, lovingly placing a plate between them with pasta, broccoli, corn and carrots all steamed and ready to go. The girl baby daintily grabs a piece of pasta and starts to eat it. She carefully selects another morsel as she finishes the first, being careful not to overly disturb all of the other tasty tidbits on the plate. She takes her time, making sure that nothing is too hot, too crunchy, or too mushy.

Meanwhile...the boy baby has eaten one piece of pasta (that will be the only thing he eats all day) and has decided that the rest of the food should reside elsewhere. I mean really, a plate?! What in the world was mom thinking? He immediately flips all of the food off of the plate, and as I am putting it back on the plate, he grabs a fist full and flings it onto the carpet with glee. I (having attempted to also eat my food) mistakenly make an attempt to stand him up, which he then interperets to mean stand IN the food on the plate. I wipe his foot off on the towel/food holder and he leans over and takes my bowel of food and empties it onto the floor...but in a different area then the other pile of food. As I try to work out just what is happening, he sneaks in a left handed pasta grab and smears it on his sister. I clean it up, offer more, he says no with body language and then goes on his merry way.

Boys are so cool.

Smash cake (never knew about these before)

2009-08-24T07:34:00.000-07:00

School

2009-08-24T07:12:00.000-07:00

In two weeks...my children start school. I can't decide if I am happy or sad about this. Maybe I am a little relieved that the chaos will dim in my day. I will go from six children down to two. And those ones...(drumroll please)...nap. Sometimes. If they are in the mood to do so.

My middle child will be in afternoon kindergarten. My big girls in 2nd and 3rd grade. That alone makes me want to cry. All I wanted was a baby, and now I have a 3rd grader. I am so old.

Babies are doing great. They are giving much less time to blog by being one. They are everywhere at once...climbing stairs, falling down stairs, eating toilet paper (used) out of the toilet, pooping on things...

I see a theme in my life now. I swear I have written these exact words before.

My midwifery/doula life in getting very busy again. It is amazing that it was gone from my life for so long and now it has slipped right back in with barely a ripple. I could write a whole other blog just about birth. Too bad there are already so many out there.

People are interesting creatures

2009-08-11T14:51:00.000-07:00

So I am driving to Target to get milk (and $45 dollars worth of other things I didn't know I needed) and as I am driving up the hill...at night, mind you...I get a very loud "A**HOLE" screamed at me.

Oh, I'm sorry!!!

I didn't know that I was suppose to be aware that you, dressed in black...and your dog...who is black, and NOT on a leash...were planning to be jaywalking at that particular moment.

You're right! I am an A**hole!

And your damn lucky that I didn't kill you both with my car. Stupid person.

Goll that made me angry! I am glad my kids weren't in the car. I can see if I was talking on the phone, or maybe knitting and driving or something and I didn't see them...but seriously.
Just ticked me off and made me want to cuss.

Whoever said...

2009-08-10T11:27:00.000-07:00

Whoever said that it gets easier after they turn one must be crazy!

Two mobile infants...going in two different directions. At least when they were little, they stayed where you put them! It is going to be so interesting to watch these babies try different ways to hurt themselves. They like to fall down stairs, they like to go down the driveway, they like to get into buckets full of water, they like to go UP stairs, they like to climb onto precarious perches, they like to bang glass mason jars together and watch them break...Super!

Mr. Man child has yet to walk, although he knows how. He walks like he has been riding a horse for hours. Funny guy.

Happy Birthday Babies!!

2009-08-09T09:31:00.001-07:00

Born

One month

Two months

Three months

Four months

Five months

Six months

Seven months

Eight months

Nine months

Ten months

Eleven Months

One year old

August is breastfeeding awareness month!!

2009-08-03T19:00:00.000-07:00

Happy Nursing!

Duo

2009-07-31T19:34:00.000-07:00

Mistakes

2009-07-31T19:28:00.000-07:00

Instead of washing my dishes...I accidently washed the baby.

Quickly now!

2009-07-31T17:48:00.000-07:00

The babies aren't here! I need to do the dishes, wash the floors, clean the laundry, put away the towels, organize my closet, make the beds, take a shower, shave my legs, wash my hair, get some food, take a nap, put away groceries, pluck my brows, pee all alone with the door shut, exercise, do nothing, watch TV, go out for coffee and get a pedicure.

A girl can dream, right?

What's that sound?

2009-07-31T17:46:00.000-07:00

It is sort of...I don't know...the absence of...I'm hearing wind through the trees...cars in the distance...the house settling in for the night...

I can't quite make it out...I know that I have heard it before...Hmmmmm...

Oh yeah!!

Silence.

Wow. So that's what it sounds like.

Ergo bowling

2009-07-29T18:13:00.000-07:00

Has anyone seen my sleep? It's missing...

2009-07-29T18:05:00.001-07:00

So I spent most of the night getting random hicky's on my boob (and not from my husband) and thinking about chickens.

When it is random o'clock in the morning, and you have one of your babies sleeping sideways (which means that you also sleep sideways) and the other baby's head being attacked by the birthday present kitten that your now five years olds tears convinced you that you needed to get...you think...I could write something up about chickens for a local magazine. I bet I could find the time!

You then think of different witty sentences to start the article...such as...

"We got some chickens in a divorce" or "Sure...we'll take some chickens!" but you can't remember anything more (and there was some good stuff) when you sit down to the computer in the morning.

Anyways...the babies are going to be one. I don't know what they think they are doing...but they need to knock it off!

When your back is turned

2009-07-20T16:14:00.000-07:00

The niece

2009-07-16T06:59:00.000-07:00

No matter how I title this...it comes out wrong

2009-07-16T06:49:00.000-07:00

I have put all of my laundry away. I have sent fifteen big plastic garbage bags to Goodwill. All I have left to do is pair about 1,000,000,000 pairs of socks. It's going to be a good day!

I recently started to watch my neice during the day. I am not sure where she fits into the structure of my family yet. She is five weeks younger than my middle child. She is an only child.

I think that she might be in shock coming from being an only child, and now having to find her place in a family of seven. So far it is going okay. And of course, by okay I mean I haven't taken up drinking yet! There are fights and tears and "I don't like you's"...but overall...you know....

If you imagine having three adult cats and two kittens and then you add another adult cat (cat analogy for those of you with cats)...and then walk away...that is basically what my house is like.

Luckily they don't spray.

Loverly hair

2009-07-14T08:58:00.000-07:00

Eating chalk

2009-07-14T08:52:00.000-07:00

You need to let something go

2009-07-14T07:43:00.000-07:00

When you have twins, you are told constantly (and tell your twin mama friends constantly) that you need to just "let it go". You can't do everything. And truly...you really can't. So for me, who likes to have a clean house, I chose to let the laundry go (and part of the house too). It was in the basement and therefore out of sight, out of mind.

Now, when it came to time actually catch up, it just wasn't going to happen. We have SO MUCH crap! Five beds, seven people including the twins switching clothing sizes every few months...winter and summer clothing....out of sight now means I will be out of my mind if I have to go at it alone.

Luckily here in Minnesota, we have an amazing attachment parenting community. AMAZING women. There is something called a "work crew" that will come into your home for four hours and help you with anything you need done. It is made up of four to six mamas and they are all volunteer. You pay it forward too.

I had six women (and their kids) folding my grungies for four hours...and we just managed to get everything folded. I have to put it away, but that is okay. I really needed to take a before picture, but here is the after.

I really wish these pictures showed just how much there really is...

After all of this, letting go is still something I am glad I did. I should also say that I got rid of ELEVEN bags to the Goodwill and will continue the purge.

I do wish we only had our regular dress and our Sunday best though, it would be so much easier. Even if I did have to wash it by hand.

To blog or not to blog

2009-07-14T07:39:00.000-07:00

I feel stuck.

I would like to blog more often, but I also don't want to post about poop constantly. And my life is basically full of poopy stories...so I am in a quandry. At this point I think that I will just try to blog about my life with twins, knowing that as I do so, there will be many stories about poop.

The middle child is five today. I can't believe it. Even though I ask her over and over to stop growing up, she continues to disregard my feelings and do it anyway. I wonder if she will stop if I ground her?

Crazy cat lady

2009-07-02T09:20:00.000-07:00

So....(this is not so much of a pause as a really big sigh)...my husband.

My wonderful husband. He likes to collect things off of the side of the road. Broken humidifiers. Tables with no legs on them. Wood. A random chair.

And bikes.

Oh the bikes. He has big ones and little ones and fat ones and skinny ones. And maybe, if you put all of the random parts together, ones that will actually hold a person on them and pedal up the street.

So this morning, at exactly 7:42am, I get a call from my husband. He questions my love, as in "How much do you really love me?" (I should have known right then and there...but alas, I was still asleep and my guard was down) "So much honey", I say. "Well then" he replys, "I saw two bikes right up the street and I really want them." (Did I mention that my two and a half car garage is one car and bikes?) "No" I say.

But then he gets me. He says that he will get rid of four bike frames from the garage, and we haggle to six. So I think I am getting a good deal. I get part of my garage back, and he gets two bikes, one of which will go to my sister.

I should have known. I went for a walk this morning, gathering two bikes up, one with no seat and both more rust then metal, and walked up the street wearing this. It was a special way to start the day.

In the future I am sticking with NO! And by the way, the pajamas were a gift from my kids.

Boy talk

2009-06-30T09:35:00.000-07:00

Having four girls and one boy, I love to talk to my son about manly boy things.

Like trucks. And robots.

And screwdrivers.

Unfair

2009-06-30T09:21:00.000-07:00

So there I was, bouncing the boy baby on my knee. Playing and having some one on one time with him, all to the tune of "the grand old duke of york"...when my second child looks at me and states..."When are you going to do that with her (pointing to the girl baby)?" I look at her and remind her that it is, in fact, okay for me to play with one baby and not the other. (GASP) I know...I know!!! WHAT am I thinking? Then she stares at me with a look of horror and says "But she can see you!"

So, the girl baby can see me playing with her brother, and not with her...I didn't realize that the trauma of things not being equal started at such a young age.

When I buy something for, or spend time with one of my children, and not the other...that is called being unfair. But at the same time, they all want to be the only one who goes with me somewhere. And now, apparently, I can't spend time with one of the babies and not the other.

There really is a secret guilt about spending one on one time with one of the babies and not the other though. I have had it that feeling even before they were born. I wonder if all twin mama's feel that?

Boy and girl

2009-06-25T06:57:00.000-07:00

Favorite and most unfavorite

2009-06-25T06:27:00.000-07:00

When asking my children, in an attempt to bond and create conversation, what their most favorite things are about the twins, I get this:

1. They are cute (lucky, really...It would suck if they were ugly when we get to the UNfavorites...cute can carry you pretty far)

2. They smile.

And that's it. I wonder if it is because I am interrupting their TV time by trying to talk to them. Probably. The Unfavorites are:

1. They poop. (This is from this morning, when I had a diaper ON the boy baby and he pooped and it fell off. I wonder if boys have some sort of super power. The power to get dirty and create dirt no matter the time, place or space...hmmmmm, maybe I am onto something. Direct quote was "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM...he pooped. And his diaper came off." So that means COVERED in poop. Head. To. Toe.)

2. They cry. (Not much I can do about this one.)

Here are my most favorites (I will keep it at five):

1. When the boy baby yawns, he hums afterwards for about six seconds.

2. When the girl baby laughs, it comes from her gut. And she laughs so easily. When the girls get her going, THEY laugh because she laughs, and then SHE laughs because they laugh. It is so cool.

3. When the babies wake up in the morning, it is just the three of us in the bed, and they have crazy bed hair and sweet smiles.

4. There are two of them.

5. They love to be naked anywhere and at anytime.

Unfavorites:

1. They just pulled out the power cord from the wall that keeps my computer on. (Apparently blogspot saves the blog...good to know!) And they try to eat the powercords under my desk when I am on the computer.

2. They pull each others hair.

3. They won't stop growing up.

Quote of the day

2009-06-24T06:59:00.001-07:00

"My farts smell like chocolate bars"

Second child

Whew...it's still there!

2009-06-23T11:58:00.000-07:00

So I have a son. And my son has a penis. And my son loves the fact that he has a penis. I, as a mother and a woman, find this new found yet age old relationship between my son and his penis quite fasinating.

When the diaper comes off, his hands must immediately (and I mean immediately) reach down and make sure that his penis is still there. He grabs it, jabs it, pulls it, pokes it, squeezes it, mashes it...it is multi-fuctional.

Did you know that penis's or peen"i" can collect things? I didn't. But they can and they do, at every opportunity. Little bits of grass. An occasional twig. Sand. Chalk. Dirt (of course). Sometimes things are in there and I can't quite figure out what they are, or where they came from. I have heard from other mothers that when he gets old enough, he will start to put things in his foreskin. Like marbles. And pennies. And dead ants.

'Cause really....why wouldn't you want dead ants in your foreskin?

Happy Father's Day Joel

2009-06-21T08:47:00.000-07:00

The second (used to be middle)

2009-06-20T14:06:00.000-07:00

Boys are awesome

2009-06-20T13:55:00.000-07:00

He comes up with these faces all on his own. I think that he is telling me that he wants to be a pirate. Or that maybe he was a pirate. Or that he likes pirates. Or that he understands what it is like to live like a pirate. Or maybe it is his grrrrrrrrrrrr face and I am just interpreting it as a aaarrrrrrrrrrrg face.

It's one of those things for sure.