Mom Sells Weapons of Mass Destruction

Recently I found a new calling in the employment realm. This has been a truly liberating change in fields and needless to say I rather find living on the edge to be totally sexy and intriguing. My new job, in addition to all my other career paths, is as an arms dealer. Yes. I kid you not. I deal with weapons of mass destruction.

You see these two WMD’s are probably the safest on the market as well. You can keep them in your home without permit and their expiration happens at around the age of 18. You avoid the whole fallout issue as you would with standard nukes, the 10 mile safety radius, cancer, however, these two do not come without a price. Their side effects include headache, exhaustion, sleepiness, irritability, agitation, the uncontrollable urge to curse, this is all the effect on you….but if you want to clear a room or destroy one, these two are the weapon of choice.

In fact, they are so powerful, we had to keep them behind bars.

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.


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.


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!


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!

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 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.

Twin Mommy Love

I am proud to say I am a mom to twins. Not so much for the accomplishment that I successfully carried and delivered two human beings on the exact same day and carried them for the exact same time, together, in one womb, even though it is truly a feat. But I am proud to say I am a twin mommy or a mom of multiples because I am in some really fabulous company.

Not only do we get twice the hug, kisses, loves, and smiles, but twin moms and moms of multiples are truly unique. They have an air about them that no other mother has. Not quite sure the words or how to explain this sense of being with these women, but when you are in their presence you know what I mean. I spent my Thursday night with a group of them and you feel at home with them.

So my Thursday night I was with my Busy Bee Mom group as I WILL NOT miss a meeting. That is my fix, my mom time, my night out, my two hours or more of pure blissdom and freedom to enjoy with other women. Gossiping, learning, supporting, and guiding in this job we call “Mom.” Part of the meeting was also to share your job in the club, which I will do next month (September). My job, if I did not already share with you (probably because I am modest) is that I am the National Rep and Donations Coordinator for our club.

I converse with the NOMOTC (the national level) about what we do every month and find out about conventions, conferences, and goings on about being a parent of multiples. I also go around asking businesses for donations to the club (since we are a non-profit under the IRS 501(c)(3)) to help support our moms. Our biggest campaign right now that I am running is our “Meals on Wheels” for new and expectant mothers. Which currently we have at least SIX (give or take a few) new moms that I counted at Thursday’ meeting that are expecting or recently delivered.

These moms will have their hands FULL, as we are always told (DUH!), and so we are asking local restaurants to donate a gift card for a to-go dinner for the dad to pick up on his way home to share with his family. Especially because our group is so large and so is the Valley (Chandler, Mesa, Gilbert, Queen Creek, etc) that delivering a meal to a club member can be difficult.

In addition we also ask for donations for our monthly meetings for cool swag to be raffled off. If you show to the meeting, everyone gets a ticket. At the end of the meeting a ticket is drawn and a lucky mom gets some cool swag! I have entertained folks such as Whole Foods for the organic mommies, Fry’s Food (since we all need groceries period!), Toys and Babies R Us, Target, and most recently and most proudly….some TWIN mommy business owners, successful multiple mamas, and mamas that support the Mothers of Multiples Community!!

These mamas are absolute gems if you ask me and I know I enjoy “tweeting” them up when I can. I also love one of their blogs and not to mention the books they have. You got it…BOOKS! You know how I go GAH GAH over books.

One of these mamas is Susan Heim. Have you heard of her? I have, and I just LOVE her and she is a riot! Tons of fun this lady is and FULL FULL FULL of her twin knowledge. Also because oh, she has twins! I read her book and have to say that is so refreshing to know others have been there, still there, and going there again! Being a parent of multiples brings out the best and worst and life gets easier when you know others are out there with you, sharing the same loves and pains of being a parent of multiples. Susan is awesome enough to donate some books to our club to add to our library for new, expectant, and already chasing multiples, moms! Susan RAWKS!

My other mama is another gem. She has the name of a Southern Belle and a heart of gold. Miss Shelby Tutty is the founder of Double Up Books which is a site dedicated to the sale of books about twins, triplets, and other higher order multiples. Her site RAWKS!! Her books…RAWK! She RAWKS because she is donating to our club and in response to her grateful act we are publishing a link to her website. Because when you search about twins, you get everything else BUT stuff about twin babies or twin kids. So her site is your one stop shop to find the goods on having multiples and raising a family and parenting support.

Like I said, multiple mamas and those who know the job of a multiple mama RAWK. They are one of a kind, are gems, are AWE SOME!! I cannot say enough about them and I think I am done now with all my twin mommy love to these ladies. Just fabulous for their gracious acts and support of our community. Now go check them out, because they are wonderful.

You Might Die Having More Than One Baby…Well Not Literally

My reaction to having twins was pretty much like all other mother’s or soon to be mothers who found they were having twins.


Seriously. I did not sign up for this. I was crazy enough to sign up for ONE. Let alone TWO!

The journey of life begins. Every mother/soon to be mother’s fear is the loss of the pregnancy until about week 12 or so. The fear subsides. Sometimes the morning sickness. Heartburn is a daily visitor. Urinating is like breathing….you don’t realize you went so much until you see your water bill the next month from what seems like continuous flushing. And finally the time comes when the two little faces you have come to know as Baby A and Baby B, blurry, splotchy, and skeletal, greet you with white filmy, pink flesh, cries, crying, tears, joy, sorrow, shakes, unknowing, fear, terror, pain, defense, a rainbow gamut of emotions.

I wanted to make sure my kids were alright. I was put at ease to know they were. They still are. Bounding, giggling, sqwealing, wailing, whining, crying, and carrying on, they are more than alright. But before we got to the alright, I really was not sure if I would be alright.

I was not sure if I could go the distance. I saw my skin stretch to the point of being a cast member on a Sci Fi world premiere television event. My back, hips, and knees were in so much pain, I was thankful for the winter season in AZ so I could sport compression stockings 24-7. I quite literally thought I would die. Twin pregnancy sucked. Pregnancy with a singleton sucked, but nothing compared to my two for one deal.

So when I met them and I was ponder how the hell I would manage. By Myself. All Alone. I thought I was going to break. Yes I have DH. Yes he is a great help with changings and baths and the like. But the rest was all me. You see I was the one with the lactating breasts. I was the one who had two. Lactating. Breasts. And so I did it. I breast fed both my twins. At the same time, one on each breast. For each feeding. Never missing a beat. Never, if hardly ever giving a bottle. With the exception to boost caloric intake for Sara who was a lot smaller and needed more, even though she was six pounds at birth as a twin. But I did it. Until I thought I was going to die. Until I thought I was going to lose my mind. I was losing every inkling of who I was as a person. As a woman. A wife. A caregiver. I need to break what I was doing for my own metal condition. To prevent a complete breakdown.

I had many. Breakdowns. I would put the kids down for their nap time which was every 2 hours give or take. And then I would find a nice spot in the house to retreat and ball my eyes out. I didn’t ask for twins. I didn’t have fertility issues. I was and am a good mother…why was I cursed? Why was I given this ultimate challenge, the job to top all jobs, an early death sentence, why me? I asked this for six months after the birth of my Thing One and Two. What was I to learn? Had I not suffered and struggled enough in my young life that NOW. NOW when I can enjoy being a mother I am tossed this curving knuckle ball to beat out into center field.

So I suffered through the pointless comments, stops, gawks, and gasps about having twins. The daft and the bold of fertility issues which most assumed was my issue. NO ONE has twins that are boy girl. (Um…okay….did you miss sex ed.) I dealt with it all. The nasty, the insane, the unbelievable, even the codependents who clearly thought I was unable to care for two children at the same time. As if I was the Octo-Mom Nadya Suleman or something.

At about 10 months I knew I was going to make it. Life got easier as I weaned (Sara…not so much the Seth-En-Stein) off the boob and into a hand held baby bottle to go! Bottle feeding was easy as they were able to hold things on their own at that time. Then when the sitting up really was in full force the high chairs were rotated into the house. Meals got easier. Naps were still consistent. I was a free woman again. I could leave the house and not worry if I was going to have saucer size messes all over my shirts if I didn’t move fast enough through a store to get home for a feeding.

Things got easier because I kept them on a schedule. From the day they were born they were on a schedule with me. I knew if they deviated life would be hell. I wouldn’t sleep, I would suffer, they would suffer, DH and Big G would suffer with me.

The one year mark passed and I wondered where the time went. I still wonder. I thought life would get easier with them. Which life did, get easier, for a short moment. And then they both started walking. Climbing. Almost running now. My house is on a constant Def Con 1 status.

But being a mom of twins gets easier. I am able to enjoy these moments as they entertain themselves. I am not always the playmate, which sucks, but is a life saver all in one. I watch them now “twin talk” to each other. I watch them watch us and learn. I watch them turn into loving people before my eyes and I wonder where the time has gone.

Big G told me the other day how much he loved me and that I was a great mom. I didn’t know what to say. I welled up and felt the burn in my cheeks, my nostrils flared, and I wondered where the time went. He tells me how much he appreciates the organic juice and milk boxes for lunch, that I cut his sandwiches into triangles, that I picked him up from school with his brother and sister. And I wonder where the time has gone. That my boy no longer gazes at me like I am the most beautiful woman on Earth, but that I am the woman who knows him best. Moreso than his father. He looks at me and smiles and tells me how much he loves me. The twins fight for a seat in my Indian Style lap, each wanting a prized thigh to hold them. And I wonder where the time has gone that they used to feed until they couldn’t eat anymore, gaze up at me and pass out.

I really thought I was going to die with twins. But if dying means that you get to enjoy all that life gives you, with twice as many hugs, twice as many smiles, and yes…twice as many diapers. I wouldn’t change my death wish. Life with multiples isn’t easy, but what is easy is the love you feel for these people who came into your life when you thought you truly were damned.

I am proud to have enjoyed Grant as my oldest, he was my teacher on being a mom. The twins are only helping me perfect the fine art of evolving motherhood.

I wasn’t always a REAL mom

My journey for motherhood began seven years and three months ago. I had no intention of becoming a mother. NONE. My mother told me for MANY years that I would reap every hell I had sown to her. I would reap because of my own children that “One day, your kids will do the exact same thing you have done to me!!” And so I vowed to never have children. I vowed to never get married.Eating all of those words will probably explain why I am on a diet!

I met my husband in the spring of 1997 in Albuquerque. Of all places, a bar. I know, such a bad cliche. He was married in the process of a divorce. I, was a hot young thing with no intention of settling, he was looking for fun and so was I. Needless to say we have been having fun together since then! We married in the fall of 2000.

Shortly before we were married we discussed children. I still did not really want children. I did not feel I was mother material. I was very set in my ways, a control freak by all means, perfectionist on every level, I was jaded, harsh, young, and could not be bothered. I worked long hours as a finance manager in the car business. That lifestyle was no place for children, my father was living proof, as was I since I was third generation “car guy.” As we talked more and discussed our future life, goals, and dreams, I began to crumble under my inherent calling of womanhood and the “clock.” So we agreed on children, well I did. I demanded no more than two, and of course if we could get it done in one shot with twins I would be more than satisfied.
Like I truly had any control over my conception of a child, you can tell I was a TRUE control freak back then. You can also tell I have had LOTS of therapy since then! HA

In June of 2000 I went off the pill. For a few reasons, one which was to lose the 15 pounds I had gained on the pill so that I could get into my perfect wedding dress. Right now I would kill to look like that again….but that in itself is another post. The other reason I went off the pill was to begin our unprotected sex journey to conception.

The journey took TWO LONG years before I even got pregnant.

One March Sunday I awoke and just had “that feeling”, the one where you KNOW to take a pregnancy test, where you know your heart will jump out of your chest in complete disbelief? I called my boss and told him I would be late to work that day…..I was pregnant!! DH was already at work that morning, he worked the first shift at Home Depot. I being the sentimental little miss I was ran over to Wal-Mart, picked up an “I Love Daddy” bib and took that to him at work. I arrived and walked to the millwork desk where I found him loading doors into an overhead display. He seemed worried as to why I was stopping by to see him on my way to work. My eyes began to well and I handed him the bib. He pulled the bib out of the bag and looked at it in disbelief……just as I did with the stick I just peed on not 45 minutes earlier….and he asked what this meant. I asked him what did he think it meant? We went around and around for a minute and then I told him I was pregnant. We just stared at each other for a minute and then hugged like there was no end. Our movie moment was over and then we both had to get to work.

I was beaming! I beamed for about a week, maybe two. I hadn’t even had a chance to have my first doctors appointment to confirm via ultrasound that I was pregnant. Complications set in…!!

While at WORK, work of all places. Nothing but men, jaded, alcoholic, mean, self centered asshole men. I began to show signs of a miscarriage. I ran out of work, grateful my boss was a good, kind hearted man! I went to the ER with DH where they said that I was having a “threatened” miscarriage and that all appeared fine, but to take things easy. Another week passed, and again while at work, signs, signs that I had no idea about with cramping, spotting, I was a train wreck! I was sick, nauseous, not nauseous, not sick, I was a pregnantly confused young woman. My body was telling me yes and no to pregnancy. I waited until I was out of work and things seemed fine. I knew then it was stress from work. So I called in sick to take things easy on a Saturday. This was UNHEARD OF in the car business. I took the day easy watching TV, not worrying. Until that night and I knew we had to go to the ER. Something was terribly wrong. DH and I sat in the ER for over 10 hours. Grueling tests, pokes, prods, no drugs, ultrasounds, more tests, LOTS of waiting. My HCG was off the charts, so they said I was definitely pregnant, maybe a little farther along than I had calculated. But the bad news came at just before dawn. Just before dawn on Easter Sunday. We were miscarrying. We looked at each other in silence, in love. Our first loss as a couple. We had never experienced the grief and loss we experienced that day. I called my mother…..and I called into work for Monday. We were in mourning. To add injury to insult, we were also told I had LARGE ovarian cysts. WHAT?!!

And so we sat…..waiting for the inevitable. Waiting for the “miscarriage” to happen. I was writhing in pain for DAYS. Emotional and physical. I had returned to work on Tuesday only go go home. I was in the worst pain, somewhat spotty. I called my doctor only to get the run around THREE different times by the nurse who answered when I finally put my foot down and was my normal bitch self. I told her I was in pain. I told her I had NOT lost the baby yet, not enough substance. I TOLD HER I FELT LIKE MY LEGS WERE BURNING!!! I went to the doctors where they did an ultrasound. OH SHIT, is what the tech told us.

GREAT! WTF is that suppose to mean?

The doctor came in, told us to rush to the hospital for surgery I had an ectopic pregnancy and I was bleeding out. If I did not go into surgery that day I would surely bleed to death.


After all was said and done I had found I was pregnant with twins. Fraternal quite obviously, one in the womb which was my “blighted ovum” as they called it and the second became entombed in my right fallopian tube which is nonexistent to this day. Thanks to a ruptured appendix four years prior that left scar tissue which choked off the path to the uterus. I researched from then on all about pregnancy after an ectopic……the results were dim at best. 37% success rate.


I was looking forward to struggling to get pregnant once again. However, I endured great pain in order to conceive. You see I never did fertility. Crossed my mind, but never did. I knew I was fertile, but standing on my head and raising my pelvis were not assisting in the dates of DH’s sperm and my ripe eggs. I had to be tested before I attempted to conceive again, the doctors had to test whether or not my left tube was open for business. There I lay…on a cold, sterile, flat bed with my “Frieda” exposed to some random lab guy who was inserting an instrument into my vagina and met my cervix. He explained how a “balloon” at the end of this tube would inflate to open my cervix and a dye would enter to check the tube. GREAT, sounds easy. Nope. I begged for more rectal exams before enduring that test again. But the results were life changing. We had an open tube that was ready for traffic. That was July of 2002… December, when we thought we would NEVER get pregnant, we conceived. I know the date. Christmas Eve. Such a beautiful night.

Yet in the time that we found the results and conceived we put our house in Albuquerque up for sale, started job hunting and decided Arizona was the place to move. My family lives here (there) and so we thought, that would be perfect. Still close to family.

In January of 2003 I scheduled a trip to Arizona to interview with car dealerships, at least three, and a few mortgage companies. I met with almost all of them but settled with the dealership since I would be making the most money. (Wrong! Thats a whole story in itself) I returned home and went to work the following day. My general manager and the owner of the dealership I was working for found I was job hunting, they knew I was going to give notice. They let me go with my vacation pay and the pay for the rest of the month! So I was well on my way to moving. I got home that day and knew….just knew in my gut to take a pregnancy test, I was only like a day late if that.


I called DH at work….told him the great news about being let go early. He was shocked. I told him about all the money being paid out. He was relieved. I told him I was pregnant!


But we moved anyway and I had an ultrasound and this baby was a keeper. My Big G!
On September 14, 2003 at 2:22pm weighing in at 8 pounds 2 ounces and 19.25 inches long, DH and I welcomed Grant Thomas Herring to the world. Big G!

I couldn’t believe I did it! I made it through 10 months, 8 hours of labor, 45 minutes of hard pushing, and I did it! I was a mom. But I never felt it. Something was there, but not there. I have pictures where you can see I adored the boy (and still do), just gazing at him. Yet, something felt missing. I went back to work at 7 weeks and he went to daycare. I was crushed. I cried a week straight dropping him off, but that slowly eased.

DH and I met troubled waters after having Big G. We went from living in a house to an apartment when we moved to Arizona, so cramming all your house furniture into a tiny apartment with two dogs was not ideal. Plus we began to grow apart. We finally bought a house though in February of 2004. We still live in the same house we bought, the house is home. DH and I started to come back to center with each other, things were mending, I was struggling personally. I felt something was wrong with me. And then we had another blow. In May of 2004 we found we were pregnant………AGAIN! I was furious. I was just barely done being pregnant. DH was excited, I was pissed. He was crushed. After some time and just before our first appointment (since I am high risk I had to go in right away) I finally accepted and was happy to be pregnant. Then the doctor did an ultrasound. He took forever. I wanted to know what was going on. And then I heard the words…………………..

You have TWO in there………..You see?!

Then I wanted to lose my mind. I couldn’t believe it. But we had another quick jab. I was asked how far along I was…..because the yolks did not look big enough. So we rescheduled to come back in a few weeks to check. Those were the longest.weeks.ever! The following ultrasound was killing me. I lay in wait for weeks to tell people we were pregnant, I told some, I need positive affirmations. The power of positive did not yield. The twins were mono-amniotic (sharing the same sac, quite possibly identical twins) and they were not growing. No heartbeat. No babies. No healthy babies even if the pregnancy took and went to term. I was warned of Twin to Twin Transfusion, heart problems, a whole spectrum of medical mumbo jumbo that I immediately heard “wah wah, wah wah wah wah.” We were devastated again. To add more injury I was sent home with a script to help ease along the miscarriage.


Within a few days of that appointment I was fired, over the phone, by my boss at the time. So that was great. I had lots to contend with. Luckily one of my old bosses (at a different employers) offered me to come back and I worked for them for a year and when I was pregnant with Big G, so I was happy to oblige. They were also very sympathetic of what I was having to endure… the process was not moving along. But then it did….and I never wish the experience upon any woman in my life. I awoke to labor pains at 16 weeks gestation. Awful. I could not wake DH. I would not. So for hours I suffered alone until the ordeal was done. I writhed, cried, hid, felt shameful, prayed for mercy. And then I suffered more as I began my awful bout with depression which lasted me some time and then the nasty medication that completely ruined me.

I had a breakdown in 2006. I nearly lost my mind. I almost had myself committed. I detoxed off of the worst anti-depressants known to man. I searched, I fought, I lost, I won, and then I was saved by a wonderful woman. She told me how to deal with myself. That feeling was OK. All that I had learned was wrong, and I have been every sort of medication (except the occasional motrin for headaches, etc) free since March of 2006.

In 2007, DH and I went to our friends wedding in Reno. We. Had. A. BLAST! Big G free weekend to enjoy ourselves. And we did. And we got loaded on many occassions. And DH told me he wanted another baby. And so after celebrating a wedding and in the nostalgia we worked towards another baby.

June 2007 came upon us fast. This was the year The Police were on their reunion tour. GET. OUT. OF. TOWN. We got tickets. On the floor. We rocked out to The Police that year. And that night, nostalgic from the concert, we conceived. June 18th 2007.

July rolls around and we were planning the 4th. Somehow DH and I got into an argument. I ran to the store to get smokes (I was smoking at the time) and a pregnancy test. I know, great combo! Like a salad and a double cheeseburger.

I get home from cooling off, take the test. DH and I are still battling. We were on the brink of the BIG D coming to our lips when I return to the bathroom. I was in tears. Still. From the fight. From the results. I stood there as we were half assed deciding our fate when I whipped out the pee stick. His jaw dropped. We laughed. We mended our stupid fight. We started going back to counseling.

The pregnancy seemed to be your regular run of the mill, feel like crap, look like crap, eat like crap. But I felt like something was going wrong again! I know right…a running theme. I go to the Urgent care thinking I had a UTI or a bladder infection. The ass hat doctor tells me I have back pain. WTF?! Dude….I have pain….not back pain….the pain is near my back…..but not my back. We go to the ER. I couldn’t take it, granted the doctors appointment was in 2 days, but I had not eaten in those two days and could not keep anything down. I knew I was having a girl, but did not want to be so seriously ill. We went through tests again in the ER, but thankfully in a hospital that is knowledgeable unlike the ones in Albuquerque.

Tests, tests, lots of tests. Pain, pain, and lots of pain. I accepted their drugs. I needed their drugs, I felt like I was going to die. Now I can handle A LOT of pain. I went to 7 during my BACK LABOR with Big G before I crumbled for the epidural. The tests were run, and now I just wanted results and I wanted to go home. The doctor came in with the nurse, the time was just after midnight, approaching 1 am.

“Well folks, everything looks totally normal. So you have nothing to worry about.”
Me and DH “Whew so everything is A-Ok, the pregnancy is alright, I am alright?”
“Yeah nothing wrong with you………you just have two babies in there so that will cause a bit more discomfort.”


“Um two babies?” I asked in disbelief….brinking on the edge of tears. DH, “TWO BABIES!? OMG babe did you hear that?”
“Are you sure?” I asked again.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” the doctor said. We both shook our heads unable to speak a word.
“Yeah you are looking good, we saw two heartbeats in there, so can’t ever say you didn’t get good news in the ER.”

And we left still dragging our jaws on the ground. Slid into the car and screamed. Then we called everyone. We woke them up. We told them our shocking good news.

On February 15th 2008, at 36 weeks and 4 days by Casearean section I delivered Seth Michael at 4:53pm weighing 8 pounds 2 ounces 19.75 inches long and at 4:54pm I delivered Sara Noel weighing 6 pounds even and 19.25 inches long.

From them on my job as a mom has changed. I have been able to see and enjoy all the firsts. I was robbed with Big G because I had to go back to work. I was robbed based on my own selfishness of failing to accept I was a mom, I wanted my DINK lifestyle. I robbed my oldest of a healthy, well adjust mom the first few years of his life. But I feel like I am making that up to him. I am a 30 somethings mom now who has no desire to keep up with fashion….I mean I am lucky if I match at all some days. I have two more children that I am learning from everyday, watching grow like I should have with Big G. I should have just stopped to watch, what was my hurry?

I am better with compassion to my children, I am patient, kind, and I am always listening. I listen to the sound of the giggles. I listen to the cries, I know which ones are pain, hurt, hunger, tired, thirsty, or the ones that mean I just need a hug. I didn’t always know these things. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, but felt obligated to do so. Now, I love it. I look back at how BORING my life was before kids. My house was always clean, I mean I vacuumed dog hair…big woop. Meals were boring, we sat and watched TV never speaking. Now, dinner is like a three ring circus with Big G and the twins, never a dull or lifeless dinner. I no longer go days or weeks without a hug from someone, as I get hugs all day everyday. I used to spend money on excess fashion, where now that is spent on school clothes, school shoes, and play clothes for my kids, now I spend on their fashion. I used to never worry about what time I went to bed, and now, I am lucky to stay up past 11pm.

Some women claim they were “born to be a mom,” I think we are all born to be a mom based on gender makeup. But moms are made. My kids made me the mom I am today. I love them more than words can say and I never regret, wish, or ask for anything different with them or in for myself in my life. Each and everyday I try to stop a little longer to cherish, love, and memorize them just as they are in that moment, on that day, because they grow so fast.

Mini Me’s

When Big G was born I was so joyful that I had a perfectly healthy and beautiful baby boy. I love Big G like no words can explain. But in all honesty, my vanity started to get the best of me when all I heard was “Oh my gosh!! He looks IDENTICAL to his father.”

And so I thought I was doomed to have all of my children look exactly like their father.

I know, I am pretty vain. But seriously, when someone tells you how your children look like you, their mother, the comment just hits you and is heart warming. Especially because we are the ones who endured TEN, yes 10, MONTHS of agony, bliss, exhaustion, constipation, sleeplessness, irritability, bloating, weight gain, excitement, love, affection, bitching, moaning and the sheer fact we were uncomfortable right before we delivered our precious little person.

You can imagine how ELATED I was when the twins were born. I immediately bust out the baby pictures and did my “Nah nah, eat shit” dance to show how the twins look just like me! I know…..I am a terrible sport. But seriously….for FIVE years, all I heard is how people couldn’t believe Big G was mine because he looks JUST LIKE HIS DAD. FIVE YEARS!!
The only thing that stands out on Big G that he gets from me are the radiant color of his eyes (we have piercing blue eyes) and this really cool birth mark, oh and we can argue till the cows come home…both of us….with each other….and other people if they let us. Big G and I are born to argue! LOL

So here are some fantastic 70s sporting photos of me…..and my comparable Mini-Me.

Mini Me (Pickles Magoo)

Me (circa 1978, 1979 ish)

Me (circa 1979 ish)

Mini Me (Little Bitty)

Me (circa 1979 ish, I was about their age in this picture)

I am just so glad that my genetics finally came through on the looks of our kids. Do not get me wrong…..DH is one sexy beast, but if our daughter looked like him……she might as well pack everything in now and go butch, or lipstick for that matter. I’d love her just the same…..seriously….she is very pretty and totally cute.

I am most thankful that I was able to go 36 weeks, 4 days, 16 hours and 53 minutes before delivering Pickles Magoo and 54 minutes before delivering Little Bitty.
Both were PLENTY healthy and good sized twins, so I know my baking abilities are more than plentiful that is for sure!
As an added bonus they got my striking good looks, goofy loving nature, and they are the best of DH and I all the way around with smarts, love, good nature, bad tempers, and sensitivity.
I am so blessed with my three gnomes!

Truth be told….I’m a Failure

I for one am not a perfect mother, I am 100% WIP (Work In Progress). I have no books to teach me to be a mother, no books to tell me what is what, I just have my simple knowledge to help me decipher my asshole from a hole in the ground. I am humbled by the fact that I love my children whole hearted, that they look to me for everything. They can throw fits for their father and the moment I walk in the room…..all is right with the world again.

I do not have the answers. Any mother who claims to “have the answers”, well sister… need to ascend to a higher astral plane because we are clearly, unworthy.

Each child, each mother, each family and situation yields different actions, reactions, and well care handling. I do not expect my sister to raise her kids the way I raise my kids, despite the fact that we were raised in the same home by the same parents. I also for one would never tell my sister “you are doing this wrong” when talking to her about raising kids. I think that NO MOTHER has that right. I for one would not want anyone to tell me that how I am raising my kids is wrong, how I discipline them is wrong, what I feed them is wrong.

I birthed 22 pounds 4 ounces worth of kids. Big G was 8.2, Pickles was 8.2 and Little Bitty was 6 even. I even had two at the same time. But this does not give me any right, the fact I have three or that I birthed two at the same time does not give me any right. But yet I see mothers from my local Costco to the blogosphere who judge women…….ESPECIALLY mothers without mercy and I cannot understand why.

So here are my failures that other mothers call out on:

Truth be told I am a mother who does not spank….while every ounce in my angered body wants to swat my child I do not.
I do not put my child in a timeout in a corner, he is sent to his room….where he has NO toys.
I do not always feed my children organic. (GASP!)
I do not let my kids drink soda, lots of juice, eat certain snacks, so clearly I fail as a mother.
I fail at the fact that when I brought the twins home all Big G wanted to do was play with his siblings instead of hit them be angry and ignore them.
I fail at the fact my five, soon to be six year old son can count to 200.
I fail that my son can count in Spanish.
I fail that my son has known his alphabet and colors since he was three.
I fail that my son asks to be excused from the dinner table each night.
I fail that the twins can show me with their hands, sign language of sorts, that they are all finished with their meals.
I fail that Big G knows how to load the dishwasher.
I fail that he feeds the family dog.
I fail that my 15 month old daughter Little Bitty knows where the trash is located and properly disposes of trash…..and some miscellaneous items too.
I fail that they kiss and hug, without a cue.
I fail that ALL of my kids are in bed generally NO LATER than 8:30p.m.
I fail that at every meal my kids have at least one food group…..somehow.
I fail as a mother that ALL of my kids are happy.
I fail that all of my kids are healthy, well fed, and well cared for.
I fail that I choose to vaccinate my kids, for everything, yup, even Swine Flu (just kidding).
I fail that I want my kids to go to public and private schools.
I fail that I want more for my kids that what I had.
I fail that I work EVERYDAY on my marriage to my love so my kids have happy, healthy, get over it, parents.
I fail that EVERYDAY I work to be a better mother, mom, wife, individual.
I fail that I make self-centered choices, for myself, my kids, and my family…
I fail that I have LOTS and LOTS of faults….and I admit them, embrace them, and learn from them.
I fail that I have cussed in front of my children.
But most of all……..I fail because they know ME as Mom. I fail that I raise them as a mother, as their mother.

I can keep going. Do any of these fit you? Do you fail at any of the aforementioned the way I have?

Please give me my due process if you are one of those mother’s, because clearly, you need to ascend sister and I for one am unworthy. Because of you our world would be perfect, full of codependents, naysayers, and happy people for judgments to be passed by a mere mortal.
Leave the judging to others of a higher power would you please?! Agree to disagree about how anyone raises their children. No parent, no mother, no one on Earth is perfect. We all do the best we can with the tools we are given…which by the way are from another mother…..usually our own. We live, we learn, we pass on. We try to break cycles, create new ones. We love with no end and beginning, no boundaries and no limitations. So the next time you think about saying how you do not like someone because of the way she raises her kids or the opportunities she has been given or failed to receive, just remember we have ALL been there.
We have all had good times and bad, wealth and poverty, sickness and health, life and death, gratitude and ungratefulness, felicity and sadness, crudeness and civility.

Why the attack on Kate?

I have seen so many blog posts, tabloid covers, snarks, sneers, tweets, talk shows, premieres, and smears that I have to wonder why everyone feels the need to bag on poor Kate Gosselin.

Did she go shit on your front lawn or something? Did she slap you in public? Maybe she spilled your drink? Cutsy in line? Did she tattle on you?

How petty can women really be. Bad enough we have a mom blog war that now we have these women (probably the same war wagers) judging without mercy about how she (Kate) treats her husband, how she raises her children, how she wears her hair, I mean really……is THAT all you have in life is your boring time to judge someone on a reality show? Do you not have better things to do with your time?

I have to say that I love Kate Gosselin. Really I do. Want to know why? Let me tell you.

For one she is a MoM. Not your typical mom, but a real MoM which means she is a Mother of Multiples. MoM women are a different breed, we run our homes a different way, we look at life a little differently, we know the ear shot comments, we know the sneers, jeers, jests, know-it-alls, and “let me tell you how to be a mom” type comments.

I just don’t understand why so many people dislike her, judge her without mercy, and bag on her like she is the biggest pest on Earth.

I love Kate for her time management with those kids. If you have more than 2 children you understand time management. If you have twins or higher order multiples, you really get what I am saying. I love that Kate has some really well behaved children for how many she has. I can barely get my oldest singleton Big G to ask to be excused every night from the dinner table. Although he does have all of his “please,” Thank you,” “Welcome,” and “excuse me” down pat so at least I know I am doing something right.

Seriously, do people think she is just suppose to let her house and her children go? UH NO! Seriously I only have one set of multiples and every day my house is a disaster, I couldn’t imagine TWO sets of multiples, especially higher order multiples. Eight kids is a LOT to clean up after, so I can see her point of view with being so anal.

The husband thing…..I am so there. I made DH watch the show with me……he just kept turning and looking at me like he was watching my twin on TV. Again, when you have more than one or two children, especially, especially multiples your life is completely different. You manage your children….and sometimes your husband……much differently. Sometimes DH gets thrown into the kid mix, not his fault, but when you are managing a home, everyone is an employee, including DH. Parents have to be a united front and if one parent slacks, then the kids know it and FORGET IT!

I do thoroughly enjoy the singleton parents who have a lot of kids. I understand, I hear you. But just because you have kids “really close in age….like having twins”…..yeah that is not like having twins. Having twins or higher order multiples is like having twins or higher order multiples. You have no idea to have two or more infants needing feedings at the same time, two or more infants crying at the same time and figuring which one you pick up first….and then do you let the other cry because you are trying to console one? Yup this happens when you don’t have help, or you are outnumbered like with Jon and Kate.

So mothers of multiples don’t just have “X” amount of children, nope they have all those kids at the SAME TIME. This is NOT the same as having “oh well my kids are like twins because they are close in age.” WRONG. NOT THE SAME. NOT. EVEN. CLOSE.

So I learned to do everything at the same time. I tandem breastfed my kids until I about lost my sanity which was until they were 10 months old. I would solid feed them at the same time with both hands, baths were at the same time, bed times at the same time, naps at the same time. Why all at the same time? Because this is called time management, if you don’t know time management as a mother of multiples you have time FOR NOTHING!

I would really like to know if there are other MoM’s out there who love to watch Kate Gosselin because she makes life feel normal. That her life is a lot like ours, an organized chaos of trying to raise multiples. I would love to hear from my twin or multiple mamas on the whole Kate thing. Because I feel she gets a bad rap and too many people bag on her……why… they can feel better about being a bitch themselves I guess. Who knows. I just don’t see the benefit of bagging on a fellow mom….we do what we can with the tools we are given. We learn to evolve with our tools and we evolve from learning other ways of working with our kids and our husbands. I know I have with the grace of my AWESOME therapist “Pat.”

I have to say next time you see a mom of twins, triplets, or any other higher order of multiples just give them a smile. They don’t need your comments of:

“Man I couldn’t imagine.”
We know, that’s why WE have the multiples and you don’t.
“Better you than me.”
Thanks! We know how weak you are which is why the higher power chose US to handle more than One at a time.
“You sure have your hands full.”
You have NO IDEA and you know what? We love every stinking minute of it with all the hugs and kisses.

Just remember that karma sucks. Every Mom does the best she can, even if she is not raising her kids to YOUR standards. I know I am not perfect, nor is Kate, neither is the mom who is passing judgment on Kate and every other mom trying to do the best she can with what she was given.

Multiple Question…..and Multiple Answer

An outing in public with twins is always an interesting ordeal. I mean the whole thing is an urban safari with all the miscellaneous gear and crap you have to take…..ridiculous! But the best part…is having fun with those who are the poor souls who do not have multiples and have deer in the headlights when they see you and they ask you these “Here’s your sign” questions:

My all time favorite and most asked

Q: Are they twins?
A: Nope. I thought the other one in the nursery was so cute I had to take it home.

Q: Oh…..a boy and a girl?
A: Nope, my other son felt like wearing a lot of pink today with that cute bow on his head.

Q: Oh, you must have your hands full?
A: Nope…you see my entourage of help….I got it covered. (As I am looking aimlessly behind myself, like can you see that there is no one else around)

Q: Do twins run in your family?
A: Nope, hubby and I made the decision to go get a turkey baster and see how many we get.
(Yes they do….and Nun ya!)

Q: How far apart are they?
A: Um…like a minute? (WTF really?)

Q: Are they yours?
A: Nope I got them from the “Twins” outlet and thought I would stroll them around for the day and see how I liked them. (again….WTF?)

Q: Are you getting any sleep?
A: (crickets)

Q: Are they identical?
A: (crickets…do they not see the blue and pink?)
The best part about that question is that I had an “identical” twin ask me that…I about fell over.

Q: Can you tell the difference?
A: (I badly want to answer…between a moron and a smart person?) Yes

Q: Can you tell which one is crying?
A: Generally the one with their mouth open. I can tell the difference between each of their cries…that’s easy.

Q: Oh, you must be so busy?
A: Nope that is why I am running through here and you stopped my beeline…because I am soooo not busy.

Q: How do you do it?
A: (I answer honestly) I don’t know…I just do…you can’t stop and think about it.

Q: (The bold) Did you gain a lot of weight?
A: I smile, want to give the bird and walk away.

Q: Are these your first?
A: (As I am yelling at G to quit climbing on things and he responds telling me ‘No Momma’) I smile

Q: Are you done?
A: Um…yeah like two kids ago I was done.

Q: Are they good?
A: Dunno…haven’t thrown them on the grill yet. Oh you mean the kids……

Last but not least….my all all time high and favorite thing to say to me about twins and so not an original…………………………………………………………………………….


With that I want to say a big F*#% You and have a great day! I was told that if you don’t have anything nice to say…….don’t say anything at all.