Category: Twin Life

Herring family stories of life with twins. Motherhood and fatherhood of twin life, antics and survival stories.

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A Two and A Three

Time flies is a cliche at her finest. I am no fan of cliches, I think they are overused, lack substance, and well they are easy to use when you have nothing intelligent to say. But in the case of my children, time cannot stand still. Blogging I care not much for these days because let’s face it, spending all my spare time on the computer typing furiously about promoting another product, bashing people because of a lacking self-esteem (ahem), is rather, what would be the word…pathetic, and truly could be worthy of an intervention.

Although I work full-time and my children attend some of the finest educational institutions while I am at said job, my time is well spent with them during the time we are not apart. Soccer games, bike rides, hugs, kisses, coloring, reading, Lego’s and of course the token sibling fights consume the majority of our time. However, I have to stop and take in the sight of my children, survey them as individuals. I then am astonished at how much these beautiful little people have grown, changed, morphed, become more than I could ever dream of for such people that have blessed my life.

In as little as a few weeks the dynamic duo turn three. THREE! I am flabbergasted, astonished really because a time warp has taken place where just yesterday I started my blog while pregnant with the squids. Writing how I was still in denial that I was pregnant with two delicate lives in me, how could this pregnancy happen to me, would I make it, would they be okay.

Today, I write about how I hope they will be okay because may the powers that be protect these two little demons from the mommy wrath since they unloaded all the bath water, cup by cup onto the now flooded bathroom floor. Sigh.

But while I curse them for their behavior and the water and the mess I would never ask anything different. I have not been able to recall my memories of old when life was not consumed by children, their giggles, their screams and whines, and the precious moments of “I love you mom.” Recalling how boring life really was without kids, how I wasted money on frivolous minutiae. As the twin twosome turns three I am pleased to say that at least half of the duo is completely potty trained, ahem Sara….get a move on girly, they can recite their alphabet, count to ten, recall colors randomly, use manner like no one’s business and speak in clear and full sentences.

No let me take that final comment back. The twinsome cannot shut the eff up! I say this with complete love but they are blabber mouths, chatterboxes, motor mouths, these two command your attention when the topic arises. Their memories shadow any elephant, recall is amazing and would defy any statistician. I say this not as their mother, but as someone who is yet again astonished at the beauty and mystique of the growth of young children. How someone so fragile can grow so rapidly to function at a level that sadly most adults cannot operate. But with them turning three we have covered some major milestones that I am so pleased to have experienced in my life and as a parent.

Motherhood does not grant us beauty and serenity in the typical sense, motherhood is also not easy. I found however that anything that is easy in life is not of any value. So while I know these milestones have not been easy, we have experienced some major growing pains together and am thankful for the patience and love of my children as I know as they experience these same milestones with their children in our near future they too will be thankful for the patience and love given to them during those wonderful and thwarting years. I also know I would never ask to change anything about our lives, about my life with them. They are one of my life’s greatest challenges and as those who know me best, know I love a good challenge. With that, I am happy to take on the challenge of some more great years with the troublesome twosome, because I could not imagine life without these beautiful children of mine.

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Twin Family Vacation

Twins and Mama on Beach

Have you ever heard the phrase, “Your life changes when you have kids?”  Well DUH Sherlock! Have you ever heard the phrase, “You must (or sure do) have your hands full?” Yes, like all the time from people about my life as a mother of twins. I knew I had my hands full when I had Grant, they just happened to be able to hold two more when I had the twins.

Peace at the beachOur life changed drastically with the twins and that included family vacations of any sort. When we had Grant and Grant alone, trucking around a single child in the airport is a breeze compared to a child and two toddlers. Not to mention any public place or venue that I take all three kids. Needless to say I understand why people, or parents with multiples do not venture into public very often, because the outing is an ordeal.

But The Chad and I were presented with a unique situation where he would be on business in San Diego for half the week. With San Diego being only a six hour drive from home, we thought, let’s make this a family vacation. The kids can see the beach, we can catch up with family, what is stopping us?

Not much stopped us and can I tell you that the worst part of the vacation was the packing, unpacking, and maybe not having enough for the kids to do while in the car? Otherwise, venturing into a “vacation” with twin toddlers and a six year old was totally doable.

I will say that having enough for the twins to do and having another adult to help is a MUST! I was thankful that The Chad was able to help with the twins because they were like Thing 1 and Thing 2 at some moments where each was going in his and her own direction and I did not have enough hands. I will also say that I braved the beach with all three and I am EVER so glad I did as I set them free. Each did his or her own thing and were completely content.

But as with all good things, they must come to an end, however, we are ever so glad they didTwins and Mama on Beach come to an end. We could not be happier that we are home. In our beds, our house, our comforts of home. Now if we could just move home to San Diego we are set. No but really, we are thankful to be home and we cannot wait to share about all the fun we had! Honestly, I thought I was going to die on this trip. I prepared for the worst and at the end of the day, I got the absolute best because I was relaxed and I didn’t stress with my kids. I guided them from harm and let them just enjoy their time and their experience and we all healed our souls with this trip. Now, I must do some healing for my eyes as I get some much needed sleep to tell you all about our trip.

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And then there were two

Hard to believe just two years ago I was ever so thankful to the higher powers that be that I went into labor THE DAY after Valentine’s. While still a blessing to deliver two sweethearts on the sweetest day of the year I wouldn’t want these two to be screwed eternally. Like being born on or around Christmas. As a child you miss out on the loots.

I went into labor at around 9am or 10am that morning. A Friday to be exact. Grant was home that day since he did not have his early learners class. I made a late breakfast and breathed through my contractions. What a joy to actually feel my contractions. My abdomen tightening and releasing was such a thrill for me. I had back labor with Grant so I prayed for mercy for any poor soul that touched, talked, or let alone BREATHED on me when I was in labor with him.

Karie in good spiritsAfter breakfast I did some laundry and then decided to tell my mother I was in labor. The Chad called in that morning; he was having a late start since the company he worked for was on what they liked to call “Mormon Standard time” which meant everything was at least 15 minutes or more behind the scheduled time. My kind of company if you ask me.

We timed the contractions which I know this may sound sick, but I loved them. So thrilling and getting stronger by each hour or so. They were still about 20 minutes apart. I cleaned the house and mopped the floors. Did some dishes. Needless to say I was nesting at the last minute. Finally at about two that afternoon I called my mom and said it was time for us to leave and I needed her to grab the boy. He was unfortunately not allowed to come since the time of year was RSV season and I was technically in “pre-mature” labor but definitely not pre-term. Been there done that with the twins which is another fabulous story.

By the time my mother arrived and we headed to the hospital we were in the midst of rush hour traffic and the hospital was in the north valley. A good 30 minutes or more to get there on a regular traffic day so add 15 minutes for good measure. I was breathing through them still. Now they were getting closer….about two minutes apart and we were on the interchange which meant at least another 20 minutes or more to get to the hospital as we jockeyed through rush hour on the 202 to the 51.

We walked straight up to the OB floor where I checked in and was placed in the same crappy room from my pre-term experience. I was then greeted by the bitch ray of light nurse that everyone wants when in labor with twins. Condescending, cold, and just a bundle of “So glad to have you as my nurse.” Thankfully her coven must have called her back because I was greeted by the true bundles of joy shortly after her. A nurse who was ever excited and I was happy to have someone there to treat me like an intelligent human and not just a humongously pregnant blond broad.

Karie talking to the AnesthesiologistVitals were done and I was walking through drug options by my anesthesiologist who quite frankly reminded me of Mr. Burns from the Simpsons. Creepy! I was then wheeled into the OR buck naked and prepped for surgery. WTF!!??

I was so excited to have these babies but oh dear what in ever is holy in this world was I thinking about being cut open….AGAIN!!??? AWAKE??!!

So The Chad joined me after I was numb and was completely clueless to my lack of feeling until I felt a sensation of rushing which meant they were working on me and I was told “You will feel a bit of tugging.”

ARE YOU DAMN SERIOUS?! HAVE YOU FELT THE TUGGING!? Holy schnikes Batman that is the weirdest feeling on Earth. And so I lost it. Yes…..bawling. Crying. Wailing. Begging to know the answer:

“What the fuck were we thinking honey bunny?” As The Chad wiped the tears from my eyes and the OR erupted into hysterical laughter! I cried in my head…stop laughing you imbeciles you have no idea.

Seth Michael HerringThen I heard the beautiful sound of a baby cry. Baby A. 4:53pm. Lots of scurrying about and “Oh my gawd’s.” What were these OMG remarks about. Please tell me. Again I hear, “Some more tugging” to which I want to say, are you hearing yourself man…I will show you a tug! And they say Baby B. 4:54pm. No cries. Again, the scurrying and The Chad tells me they are beautiful and they all run off.

Sara Noel HerringI lay there. Cold. In shock. Really. I lost a good amount of blood, throwing my body into shock where I am borderline convulsing from the cold. I am about to lose my mind. Thoughts and fears. Lots of fear and no one is talking to me. I lay in a pool of tears unable to speak, fighting back all my urge to scream out and cry. I am given blankets for warmth but the warmth is gone like a fart in a windstorm. I am lost in my own thoughts, a sea of confusion demanding to know where my babies are what the hell is going on will someone help me.

I am wheeled back into my room where I begin recovery where I am swarmed by the medical team. Finally the swarm and their buzzing begin to subside and I see the man who looks like a boy in a candy store. He is beaming. Grin from ear to ear like the cat who ate the mouse. Telling me all about the experience in the nursery with the twins. I am hurt but ever so eager to hear. Wanting so badly to have been in there with them.

He explains the condition with Baby A, Seth Michael Herring weighing in at a strong 8lbs 2 oz. Yes. That’s right. In fact Big G weighed that when he was born. He is doing well, they were a bit worried about him but he is doing well. Had to suction him a bit extra since he had a bit extra fluid on his lungs but he is doing well. I demand the APGAR on Seth which was a 9. Oh thank heavens! I then beg to hear about Baby B Sara Noel Herring weighing in at a petite, but ever so healthy 6lbs even. She is smaller a needed a bit with her glucose levels but she is doing really well. Hardly any crying and she came out with her eyes open and bright. The OR staff called her a peanut because of her size and the OMG I heard was the sheer size of Seth. Beast!

Snuggly at the hospitalNot until that night was I finally able to hold my children. To weep and stare at them. In sheer awe of the 36 weeks and 4 days of incubation to get to this moment. A moment of denial and disbelief. Is this my life? Are these really my children in all their beauty and perfection? Their snub noses and beautiful round heads. Grunting and nuzzling. I wanted to just look at them and hold them ever so tightly. Never forgetting this moment. I did it. I really did this. I brought life to TWO separate people in the same womb. Healthy. I could hold them and be with them. I was on the highest cloud. And at the same time my brain went into overdrive.

I now had a c-section to recover from in addition to caring for these babies. i got my ass in gear and got up as much as my body would not let me. I forced myself through my exhaustion to walk. I had to walk. Walking would jump start my bowels again. I fought. I didn’t sleep for 36 hours. I deprived myself and I was beginning to fail. I could not do this. I finally shook off the mommy guilt and asked the nurses to take the twins and feed them for me so I could sleep. A measly four hours but four hours on pain meds was better than none. I learned to sleep more in the next 24 hours. I learned to manage them and manage my time. I plotted out feeding schedules and times and who preferred what breast and what I could do to make sure these two remained healthy and strong.

And today I look at what I can do to retain my sanity for just a few more hours. As I watch them push chairs to countertops to retrieve the Blackberry, the “pown” as they call it. I watch them load the dishwasher and say ‘Cheers’ as they clank their sippy cups together. I cry at small moments when I am alone to know they are my legacy. I am saddened that I will never hold a baby of my own again. The downy molt of their skin smelling like Baby Fresh lotion and the faint smell of a new diaper. The beautiful sleepy eyes of two nursing faces. The small fingers caressing the side of my breast as I fed them. So I grieve the end of my era as a mother to a newborn. I embrace my future as a potential grandmother.

I hold them tighter today as they turn two. Strong, intelligent, resourceful, obstinate and loving they are, I am in awe that these two people are mine. All mine. How fast the time flies. How I want them to grow up and how I want them to stay this small, cherishing each moment no matter how frustrating when they unload the recycle bin together. Toss tupperware dishes full of dirt into the house. Or unload my bathroom of my toilettries and the 10 pack of razors I bought is now a three pack since seven were used as a flushing experiment and basic entertainment. I will never forget the moment I found I was pregnant with them, delivered them, held them, knew I loved them, and I will never forget how I watched them grow.

Happy Birthday Seth and Sara…love Mama.

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Because People Like to Say Salsa

Each day the duo have something new to say and they make me laugh! I try to get video…even though the quality is totally terrible on my phone but its the fastest pocket size camcorder I have. I need one to capture all these fun moments. So here is Seth boy with his newest word:

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If You are Gonna Give

Give big. I am a true philanthropist. While I think people can be real fuckheads pains in the neck, at the root of all I believe a good portion of people are good and true as part of their nature. So my love of humankind is probably part of my cat nature as a Leo. I have every intention of making the world a better place one person and soul at a time, albeit I will probably die a failure, but I WILL do what I can in this life. I would hate for karma to come back and be a bit too pissed off and reincarnate me as a roll of toilet paper to wipe up other assholes shit.

Onto my story. I recently saw a posting on my twin mom club board that a mom in northern Arizona is in need. She has twins, not a part of any club or ours, and she is in need of formula because WIC only covers so much and the rest she has to attempt to purchase on her own. Now if you a mother who formula fed, you know pretty darn well how EXPENSIVE formula is for one baby….tack on an extra mouth. I tandem breastfed the twins for 10 glorious months before I thought I would lose my mind by never seeing the light of day and I made the decision to slowly wean them to formula for the last month and half before their one year birthday. During that time can I tell you how much formula I went through?

Every 3 days we opened a new Costco size can of Enfamil. COSTCO size folks. Biggie size. Super Size! And if I recall the price was close to $40 a can. One can, every three days times $40. Can you say I need a loan to feed those kids?

Now I can totally empathize with this mother, I feel for her. The sad thing, there are no programs other than ours right now that I have been able to find that can help her. As I said, she is on WIC. But WIC is only designed for one newborn, not TWO! So I am coming to you all. For help. Do you know of any other programs, opportunities, freebies, support to help a mother? I know she is not alone, we have received several requests and as my duty and position within in the club as donations coordinator I am gathering donations for these mothers as a “Milk Closet” per se that will include the expensive necessities to care for two infants. If you know of any programs, companies, opportunities to help these women in our communities who struggle to care and feed their children please let me know or hey if you want to make a donation let me know that too and I will provide you with our IRS and Federal 501(c)(3) non profit tax ID information.

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The Hat Diva

This little girl is something. She is overly independent, knows exactly what she wants all the time, demands it, is ornery as all get out, gorgeous, loving when she wants to be, and has her tender moments and of course she is bossy. Man, she is her mother’s daughter. But I love shoes….she loves hats, I will forgive her when I see her at Churchill Downs donning the biggest, most fabulous hat ever while sipping a mint julep.

Until then, I will enjoy these precious moments with my baby girl. Some days I cannot get over how beautiful this little girl is and she is all mine! Best of all, she plays in the mud, water, and loves to say shit…or is it ship…or chip…either way she is one of a kind and all mine. My Little Bitty, Hat Diva.

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Twin Talk

The Squids are coming into their own, more and more they are true gnomes becoming the funniest little people I have yet to meet. Here they are in all their glory. They are excited…can you see it?
Sara, what is your brother’s name? Sess
Seth, what is your sister’s name? Can you say Sara? Bitty
Sara’s words:
Sass = Trash.
Sometimes the trash can be a little sassy. Pew…what’s that funk?
Buh bye = buh bye
I’m leaving with you….let me get my shoes…NOW. (insert screaming toddler)
Gee gee = Ginger
The family Bulldog.
Kee = kitty
Do you remember the girl from the Looney Tunes?
I want to hug them, love them, pet them, yeah, she is pretty ape shit crazy over kitties.
Shoos = shoes
Pretty clear on this…she manages her way into my closet and clomps around the house in my heels. Impressive for a two year old toddler to manage 3-5inch heels.
Ugh ugh = That
Grunting that suggests she wants whatever the hell you have….fork it over.
All duh = All done
Whatever I am doing, eating, pooping, getting into trouble…all done.
Shit = Ship, chip
We really have no effing clue. She uses it frequently and in the correct text. We are thinking shit is shit. All duh.
Seth’s words:

Shoos = Shoes
Gingrr = Ginger
The “e” in Ginger is just completely silent or more of a “u” sound.
Spee = Fork, spoon
We know he wants utensils when he asks for spee
Ny Ny = Night Night
Hi Ho Hi Ho off to bed we go.
Ah = Bye
Just a quick wave is the only indicator of the word he is saying.
Dada = Mom and Dad
Whomever is in range of his parental demands gets the Dada call
HELL-LOW = Hello
The happiest hello you will ever hear…ever!
Doh = Door
He has an OCD obsession about doors…clearly gets the door part from him father.
Oh nee = bologna
Yum buddy!

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My New Reality Show

Forget the “Table for 12” and move over “Jon and Kate” because had my body gotten her way….I would have had my own reality show. Seriously 7 kids in 4 pregnancies…do the math. We would have been a school of fish…or maybe a gaggle as the title would be so fittingly called.

I shared my story of not always being a mom and my conception quest, but little did you know that conception was the least of our problems.

When DH and I began our parenthood journey we did like every couple does. We screwed like rabbits. We did. All the time, anywhere, anytime, whenever we could. Here, there, everywhere. We were like Sam I Am eating our green eggs and ham.

After a year or more of trying and still an empty nest and a cold oven, we did what the old wives would do:

  • Stand on my head
  • Tilt your hips at a certain angle
  • Not move after sex (okay, passing out counts too)
  • Drinking a caffeinated beverage
  • Not drinking a caffeinated beverage
  • Waiting a few days in between
  • Eating more beef
  • Taking my temperature
  • Took his for good measure

You get the gist.

So when a baby didn’t come we began to question our ability. My ability. I knew it was all me. Something drastically changed after my appendectomy. I did not have a traditional appy but a nasty ooey gooey mess of peritonitis appy. The kind you clearly die from, which I almost did. I had complication after complication and I think I have had more CT scans than anyone under the age of 25 is allowed. Finally after recovery and giving up and just getting back to rabbit shifting and the occasional married sexless night we get pregnant.

JOY & RAPTURE I tell you!

I could not believe the test in front of me. I freaked. I freaked some more. I ran to the store and bought more tests. PINK, PINK, and more PINK told me YES! I called the boss on a Sunday to tell him I was running late for work and they could sell cars without me to draw up papers for at least an hour. I ran to DH’s work and surprised him with a bib that says “I Love Daddy.”

He looked at me like I was nuts. He looked at the bib confused. Me confused, the bib is nuts! Sheepishly he says, “You’re….??” YUP! And like that we were pregnant. But not like that was all that hard….or easy. Nothing in life has ever been easy for me. Not saying I have had the hardest life, but I was never given even the chance to look at a silver spoon.

A few weeks later…cramps, bleeding. Possibly a scare. Went home to rest and called the doc. They said go to the ER if it gets worse. So I did, as the pain got worse. Six hours later….a threatened abortion which means that bleeding happened but the pregnancy seems A-OK. Wait until my docs appointment to follow up. Which was at least a two month wait. But clearly my body and higher powers had other decisions because only a week and a half later I was in the same ER. FOR. EVER! Writhing in pain. Wanting to kill the nurse. Wanting something for the pain but not wanting to hurt the pregnancy. After an ultrasound and many more hours of waiting on into the morning of Easter Sunday we get the news. We are miscarrying.

Devastation. And then the five stages of grief. I took a week off of work to get my act together. During that week I still did not experience any “miscarriage” per se. Lots of pain. Burning in my upper top thighs. More pain. I called my doc. At least 100 times. I had some incompetent nurse attempt to coddle me as if I was a teen pregnancy. My mom finally told me….”Karie, this is the time to be a bitch!” So I did. And was I ever in my doctors office faster than you could make the appointment. An ultrasound was done and an “Oh Shit” was said by the sonographer when the doctor came in to tell me I was being admitted to the hospital downtown.

OK

Por que? Well, seems that I have a “blighted ovum” which is a pregnancy that didn’t take in my uterus and an ectopic pregnancy. Fabulous. What does that mean? A surgery and a D&C. So I lost my right fallopian tube and twins all in one fail swoop. Great first round.

For months later while I wallowed in my sorrow, continued to work my ass off at the dealership with the false hope of ever getting a promotion, I researched my condition. Was it a condition or a fluke? Turns out I had a condition. I had adhesion’s from my appendectomy, severe enough to wrap themselves around my right fallopian tube, choking off the path. I researched pregnancy with one tube after an ectopic. Chances of another ectopic at the time were HIGH. Chances of getting pregnant on one fallopian tube. 34%. The odds sucked. So in July of 2002, a few months after the ectopic I had a test done to determine my chances of pregnancy on my left fallopian tube.

The test seemed simple enough. Inject dye into the tube, do X-Ray simultaneously, done! Not so much. They only told me that before until I got there when they decided to open my cervix with a plastic balloon to shoot the dye into my fallopian tube. Pain pain and more pain, followed shortly by burning, burning, buring. Get this done! Success. The left tube is open no problems.

So we washed, rinsed, and repeated the above pregnancy attempting ritual. Until one fateful December night, on the red chair. My mother now owns that chair. *Hi Mom! Yes, Christmas Eve to be exact. Weird how I know this but I just know. In the meantime our house in up for sale, we have plans of moving from then Albuquerque to here (Arizona) and I am job searching. In January I fly to Phoenix for five interviews and land a job. Fly back that night, and the next day plan to submit my resignation working until the end of the month. Because I was a greedy bastard at the time running a department I wasn’t given enough pay or the title for the 100 plus hours I was putting in and the bullshit I would shovel each day.

Into work I go. Daily morning meeting. Then I am asked to stay behind by the GM and the owner. My heart is racing which tells me…they know I am bailing. YUP. They told me I didn’t have to stay until the end of the month, I would be paid out on all my deals (SA-WEET!), my vacation, and this month (last months deals) pay. FAN- FREAKING-TASTIC! Vacation! Until I got home.

I had a suspicion. So I took a pregnancy test. And another. And yet another, until I had eight urine sticks waving in front of me like an orchestra. Pretty much I was pregnant. I freaked. I called my mom again. I called DH. Hey dude….I got let go today AND I’m pregnant AND we are moving in two weeks.

Yeah, that’s how we roll.

That was January 2003 and on September 14, 2003 we welcome our Grant baby.

So after being settled in Arizona, buying the house, in May we get a huge oops! Yes. BIG. OOPS. May 2004 mind you. I am pregnant again, totally spontaneous, not planned. Only this time I am mad. In total denial. Hubs is excited. Sure. Of course you would! You don’t have to be pregnant, fat, have heart burn, hemorrhoids, indigestion, swelling, random farts, sure. Peachy Freaking Keen! We get into to see the doctor right away. I am finally getting used to the pregnant idea. I have told people…bitterly, but with a smile. I am bitter because I JUST had a BABY! YEESH! So the ultrasound day comes, early mind you because I am high risk. Nanner nanner. Sorry. So really, high risk so they do an ultrasound to be safe. Would you believe it.

TWINS

I about died. Reanimated myself, slapped the hubs, told the doctor he was lying and seriously changed my shorts. NO. No way! Oh yes, and they are identical. Why? How can you tell? By the sac. They are monoamniotic twins which means that they are (were) sharing the same placental sac. Not good. But the doc says the ultrasound seems funny, so he wants to see me in another four weeks. Pleasure.

Four weeks later we are in the office. Ultrasound again. The doctor is taking all sorts of pictures, not saying much. We sit in silence, with an eight month old. The twins are not growing, they are failing, no heartbeat. Crushed. Just when I got used to the idea of having twins, and being pregnant for that matter, the low blow. I am devastated. Not again. Not another loss. We leave in silence. Only after the doctor reassured us that I will miscarry on my own within the week. Here is my medication. But had the twins gone full term we would have experienced twin-to-twin transfusion, possible heart failure, major health complications. We accepted the blessing in disguise. Nonetheless any easier.

Neither was going into full blown labor, in your home, in the middle of the night and not being in the hospital. I wish for no woman to experience the horror and pain at 17 weeks the miscarriage of a child, or two.I know you wonder why I didn’t wake my husband, to support. I tell you ladies, there are things in life that we spare the ones we love the experience and overall trauma. I know he is strong, but not like this, this is unlike anything any man or woman who has children would want to go through or even have a support team to share with. This is a loner job. One that sickens me, but I know everything happens for a reason.

After that I am done with children. Grant wasn’t named Grant for no reason, he is our gift, our blessing. We moved on. Or so I thought.

I was a hot mama! I was looking good, lost all my baby weight and was looking hot. We take a trip to Reno Nevada for our dear friends second wedding. Yes they had two. They are goobers. He has his wedding which was called the Vow-B-Que, they exchanged vows, were legally married, Ta-Dah! She got the white wedding in January of 2007 when we flew out again. During this time DH is nostalgic, we are missing Grant since he was with grandparents, and the day we fly out, we find our friends are pregnant, right before they leave for their honeymoon!  But the night before in an alcohol induced state, the hubs says to me “Let’s have another baby.”

Yeah…he baited me.

Months pass, we hear The Police are doing a reunion tour. SO. THERE. And we were. On the floor of USAirways Center in Downtown Phoenix. We have a sitter. A Hotel within walking distance. DATE night at its finest. We partied up the night, totally nostalgic in The Police concert on June 18, 2007. We then head back to call it a night…if you know what I mean. Wouldn’t you know just a few weeks later. I am pregnant. AGAIN!

WITH. TWINS.

Now the chapters have closed. The third and final twin pregnancy was a success!
Because on February 15th 2008 @ 36 weeks and 4 days I delivered Seth and Sara.

I tell you I am the luckiest and blessed spontateously, pregnanting twins, all the time woman ever!
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How You Do It

Something a mom of multiples hears all the time is :
“How do you do it?”

Granted, we really are no different than any other mom. We all birthed a child, we care and love for our child or children, we worry, we do the best we can, we struggle, we cry, we scream, we want to pull our hair out, we are just like any other mom.

 

With one exception.
Multiple and twin moms gave birth to MORE THAN ONE child at ONE TIME.
So when you dress your children the same that may be a year or two apart in age, this is not the same as twins or more. Because you had two in diapers at the same time. Say a newborn and a 14 month old or so….this is not the same as twins or more. Now don’t get me wrong, I am not bagging on these women. But really….you open a whole new can of something when you say:

“Well, it’s like having twins”


Right! Like a colonoscopy is the same as having a vaginal exam right? They are down in that nether region…rooting around…its like the same.

I laugh. I cannot help but laugh. Or smirk like I want to tell some twit that her comment about “Well it’s like having twins” or “Well they are like twins” IS. NOT. TWINS.

Again, not bagging or berating. I am clearly stating the obvious. Which back to the obvious question of “How do we do it?”

I tell you what. I really do not have a clue how we do it. Something went off in my brain that told me I had no choice. In reality, I did have a choice.
A). care for my children or B). leave them to fend for themselves and dub myself a terrible mother. My decision was pretty crystal, A!

From the moment they were born I knew I had to run the show like a perfect machine. Rituals, schedules, timing, noting all of the pertinent details of everything from changing’s and the types of changes. Did we have a #1, a #2, or a combo platter. Feedings. How long, how much, breast or bottle. Which in my case it was breast and for how long. Did I have to pump. The whole thing became a science during the first six months. I called my therapist. A LOT!

I cried. A LOT. My therapist told me to, she said crying was healthy. I had to grieve. I had to feel like I was falling apart. I did and then pulled myself back together and went right back to taking care of my babies. All three.

You really take for granted trying to maneuver 2 infant carriers and a 5 year old. Who do you load first? Who gets unloaded first? You run the chicken and the egg question in your head. You weight lift and learn to man handle them both at the same time. Now I look like a quarter back grappling each one under an arm, but before I would cradle each one in a palm and arm. No choice, no option. Especially when you have a husband who could sleep through the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.


Doors are fun. If they are not automatic or have the handicap button, you really struggle. No one helps you. They stare. They gawk. Then they interrogate you. You are a celebrity and they are the paparazzi. You want to run. You want to ignore them.

Questions. Oh the questions. I have contemplated the idea of toting stickers with me that have the coined phrase “Here’s your sign” because I am appalled at the boldness and daft beauty in the probing. I have a whole post dedicated to questions…one I should update and bring forth as I get new questions everyday. Especially when the one woman who had separate fathers was spotlighted. Oh that day was a joy.

Judgment and ridicule. We get that too. Not sure why. I mean we don’t ask for help. We don’t. Twin and multiple moms go to other twin and multiple moms for help. Watch them. They rarely ask any Joe Blow, “would you mind helping me for a moment.” We are usually the ones who have folks offer themselves upon us as if we are invalids and completely incapacitated to care and watch over our own children. They are the ones that reach in and want to hold your child when you are shopping. Those folks give me the urge to shop with a fly swatter. Seriously, I don’t grab at your children or at your walker saying “Hey let me give you a boost” or “Hey great baby, let me hold him/her for you.” Seriously?! We also get that EVERYONE else knows that we could not have had boy/girl twins or girl/girl or boy/boy twins that are fraternal.

NOPE.

They are all identical. Um…okay. Thanks for playing, you do not get to go to the bonus round. I am not quite sure why people assume that twins mean same sex. But I have had so many say, “so how long were you on drugs before you got pregnant.” Again, seriously?! I want to say not long, hubs got me all liquored up pushed me down on my back and WHAM, did we get lucky!

How do we do it?


One foot in front of the other. Long, heaving breaths with our eyes closed, our minds empty where we return to center and build the gumption to keep moving. We have a sick and twisted sense of humor. We learn to laugh at everything, freak about nothing (unless Earth shaking of course), and share what we go through…with everyone. Because we are truly blessed to have a body that was a holy vessel of sorts for two special people to take residency for nine months. Blessings of kisses and smiles and hugs. I truly believe that if we stopped and thought about all we do as parents of multiples and twins we truly would lose our mind.
However, we do it just like every other mom.
We love, dig in for the long haul, hope for the best, worry, cry, wipe tears, chase off monsters, wipe butts, clean messes, give every ounce of ourselves and our unconditional love and at the end of the day hope we saved a little for ourselves.

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Blogging and Toddling

Toddling twins and a mom who enjoys blogging….do not mix. Basically this mixture is like taking a mom who is on Prozac and loading her up on shots of tequila…no bueno!

I have attempted….okay really I have done more than attempt….I have started a half dozen posts only to have them so graciously (screaming, yelling, wailing, and crying) interrupted by the twins. This requires my moment of Zen to be disturbed by removing my ass from said chair in front of laptop to inspect said disturbance. This gets old!

Needless to say I think I am making a good exercise of it. I am thinking of moving the chair altogether to avoid the whole truly sitting down to just doing air chairs. I will have a sweet looking ass and thighs in no time if I do this!

As I remove said arse from said chair I find scenes like these strewn through the house:

I see toilet paper from a BRAND NEW roll completely dismembered through my vanity area of my bathroom and the latrine area.

I then see where the twins are becoming a gaggle of trouble…..unloading my Tupperware from my cabinets. Which normally I have no issue with…..except lately they disappear outside, in the sink, under cribs.

Finally, Little Bitty decides she will be the lookout for her brother….who was most likely the one who unrolled the toilet paper. Not only is she the lookout but the distraction….can you see in this picture why she would be a distraction?

Ah yes, the favored Victoria’s Secret brazier that she managed to get out of my bedroom and strung from her neck like a set of beautiful ivory pearls.

This kind of chaos ensues all.day.long. I pray for nap time. I begged for it yesterday when they refused to nap. They woke so early from their nap just to rummage and create more damage. By the end of the day I was spent. I still had to work out and said…EFF it. I went to bed. I had laundry that needed to be done…PFFFTT…it will grow larger tomorrow…went to bed. If you want to know how a mom of multiples does it everyday….she just says EFF IT and goes. to. bed!

So I went to bed. And now….that the twins are napping and….in.bed. I get to blog! HOORAY! I have to say on these days I miss the Big G just for the older entertainment he is for the squids.
Enjoy what a normal day looks like in my house of Blogging and Toddling.