Important Thoughts 23.0

23.1: Max is a crazy boy. Now that he can crawl, he doesn't want to hold still for anything. Christian and I have several times given up mid-diaper change and just let him scoot around for a while with a naked bottom. Nap time is worse, when he wants to explore his crib and smash the bumper down so he can look around his room. {You might think that means he's not tired, but he def-def-definitely is; it's the saddest thing to watch him patting his crib slats and sobbing at the same time because he's completely exhausted and yet just won't lay down.}

23.2: I decree that Maggie is the princessiest of princess babies. She likes to be held so much that she only just learned to roll over onto her tummy. {Seriously, baby? You are nine months old tomorrow!} She also has a very clear ranking system when it comes to who she likes to hold her. Mommy, obviously, is tier #1. Daddy falls into tier #2, and other relatives she knows qualify for tier #3. People she doesn't know aren't permitted to touch her at all, or look at her for too long. Her I-want-Mommy-all-the-time attitude is both frustrating and a tiny bit endearing.

23.3: We're so looking forward to the babies' first Christmas. I bought them Christmas pajamas {which I plan to make a tradition in our family}, but really did my best not to go overboard with presents. Really really. We're going to wrap up some extra boxes to make under the tree look extra special, and because we think that unwrapping boxes might be the most exciting part of Christmas for nine-month-olds.

23.4: I decided this year to make matching stockings for our family, and I love how they turned out. Despite my personal feelings toward them, I was surprised the reaction they got when I posted a couple pictures of them on Instagram. Mostly because they were super duper easy to make. Here's how it went: I bought some felt stockings at Target for one dollar each. I printed out our names in a font I liked, then pinned it to the inside of the stocking. Since the tops of the stockings are white, I could easily see through to the paper. Then, I backstitched through the paper and fabric together with embroidery floss. When I was done, I tore the paper off {carefully}, and voila! Done. Not that I'm done with the stockings yet; I have a few more embellishments to add. Embellishments that Christian thinks make Maggie's stocking look like it's more for Valentine's Day than Christmas. But whatevs.

Excitement

When I first discovered that I was pregnant with newbaby, I wasn't excited. That's not to say that I wasn't happy, because I was. But excitement, the thrill that runs through your nerves and tingles in your fingers and feet like sparklers, I didn't have that. Excitement is the emotion you feel on Christmas Eve when your heart is bursting with joyous anticipation. When Christian and I were dating, and I knew I was about to see him again, I used to feel excitement so intense it was almost painful. My heart would race and I couldn't sit still and everything I saw seemed framed in golden confetti.

What I felt when I saw the two {two!} pink lines on my pregnancy test was much different. I felt calm, and a beautiful sense of peace. In our church, we associate that feeling with reassurance from the Holy Spirit, a confirmation that signals rightness and alignment with God's plan for us. It's the reason that I believe newbaby was meant to come to our family now, and not that Christian and I made a huge goofy mistake.

The thing is, after planning for and picturing newbaby, after imagining what our family will be like six months from now, I'm super excited. We didn't get to have a normal anything with Max and Maggie, and you know that perfect moment right after the baby is born and you get to hold him for the first time? I'm looking forward to that like crazy.

*motherhood photo by Oana Befort

Blogging Again & An Announcement

So, remember last year, you guys? Last year on Thanksgiving I posted that I was pregnant. A day later I threw in the fact that we were expecting twins. And since I hadn't shared anything about how we had been trying to have a baby for two and a half years, I didn't include any of my "finally! Finally! I'm going to be a mommy!" feelings in that post. In fact, my blogging was incredibly nonchalant considering my emotional state.



This year, I have another little announcement to share. So much has changed in our lives, but you may be surprised to learn my news hasn't. Yup yup yup, I'm pregnant again.

A couple months ago I started getting carsick while sitting in the front passenger seat -- that was my first clue. Then I started counting backward, and realizing that something didn't happen when it should have. Because of all the times before my first pregnancy when I would say to Christian, "I think I'm pregnant!" and then it would turn out not to be the case, I didn't say anything to him. I just handed him a positive pregnancy test one Sunday morning.

{I was also carrying Max at the time, and considered handing the test to him to give to Christian, but then I thought about how everything that Max gets in his hands ends up in his mouth. And, you know, I peed on that test. So gross.}

We've already started getting a few questions about this pregnancy. Questions like, "Was this expected?" and "Are you guys excited?" and the always-hilarious "You guys know how that happens, right?" To possibly forestall any of those questions ending up in the comments section, let me answer them here.

Firstly, no, we weren't planning or expecting to get pregnant. Like I mentioned, it took two and half years the first time. {Also, rounds of injections, fertility drugs, and a minor surgical procedure. IVF is rough, y'all.} So we were prepared for the possibility that Max and Maggie would be our only two babies ever. We also hoped that I would be one of those women who has a much easier time after her first successful pregnancy. We didn't anticipate that it would be quite so easy.

Secondly, yes. We are grateful that I'm pregnant again, and are happily dreaming about and making plans for newbaby. We know that life isn't going to be easy with two fourteen-month-olds and a newborn, but we also want a big crazy family, and it's exciting to see how that's beginning to become a reality.

Thirdly, geez, could you BE any more condescending? No, but seriously, I've read my fair share of books on fertility, so duhdoy.

I'm going to try to do a better job of blogging during the next six months until newbaby comes {I'm due in May again, isn't that crazy?}, but I have to admit that not blogging for the past 84 days has freed up some time. Or maybe I'm finally getting the hang of mothering twins? I guess we'll see how everything plays out.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

*pregnancy photo by Kelly Hicks Design & Photography

Stop! Mary Time.

How many hours do you get to yourself a day? Do you plan some "you" hours in?
Do you have any time to read/journal/craft/watch TV/etc? Or is it all about babies, babies, babies?
When Christian gets home to do you hand the babies off for some "me" time?


Oh gosh, you guys. I've been putting off answering this question for a few days, debating what to say. Part of me wants to just say how I feel right now, which is that I get no time to myself and I'm constantly overwhelmed with babies. The other part knows it wouldn't be fair to Christian or anyone else who helps me out. So I'll try to be honest.

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I don't plan any me-time during the day; I don't really try to plan anything during the day. The babies aren't on a daytime schedule, so they sleep when they want to sleep and eat when they want to eat. My day revolves around them. I sometimes wake up and think, "It would be nice if I had time to do laundry today," and then when I have a free moment I'll try to fit it in. I do my best to be flexible, because if I plan on something like free time or accomplishing a chore, and it doesn't happen, I get incredibly frustrated.

The idea of "hours" to myself made me laugh; on a good day I'll get a total of two hours of baby-free time between 7:30 and 5:30 {when Christian's at work}. On bad days, when one baby wakes up just as the other goes down for a nap, I get zero hours. Zero minutes. As the babies have gotten older, and as I've learned to make better use of my time, I've been able to do certain necessary tasks {eating, getting dressed, making bottles} while they're awake. So I can survive the bad days, even if I'm exhausted at the end of them.

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I sometimes read, although I usually save that for when Christian gets home and the babies are in bed, so I can enjoy it more. I've stopped writing in my journal {my last entry was supposed to be my birth story, but I never finished}, and I was never much of a crafter. I usually keep the TV off during the day, for the babes and myself, but when I have free time in the evening I often watch.

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I used to feel entitled to handing off, not both babies to Christian when he got home, but the responsibility of being in charge. I didn't feel like I could expect him to do everything, but for some reason the idea of having someone tell me what to do instead of just having to do it sounded relatively relaxing. However, it wasn't fair of me to put such a large burden on him. Now we try to share the load.

If I desperately need a nap, he's good at taking over so I have the opportunity. If I have to get out of the house, he's good at making that happen, too -- I usually end up running errands to the grocery store, the library or Target that can't wait until the weekend.



My life has changed a lot since I wrote this post. I still feel overwhelmed at times, but I get through it. I love my babies, and every night I pray that I will find joy in raising them. And I do, constantly.

Conversations About Captain

I just wanted to add this little tidbit to last week's post about how we came up with Max' first name.

Before we brought the babies home from the hospital, I had to call and make an appointment with their pediatrician for a follow-up appointment. I explained to the scheduler about our situation, that the babies had been in the hospital but were coming home now. She then started asking me their basic info {names, birthdates, etc.} so she could put them in the computer. Maggie's information we got through no problem, but afterwards we had this conversation:

"And the other baby's first name?"
"His first name?"
"Yes, his first name."
"Captain."
"I'm sorry?"
"It's Captain?"
"Can you spell that for me?"
"C-A-P-T-A-I-N."
"...Male?"
"Yes."

We now get those lovely automated messages from our pediatrician's office, reminding us of our appointment times -- the ones where one robot voice says most of the message, but a second robot voice jumps in for the names, dates, and times. Ours sound like this:

"This is a message reminding you that... a member of your family... and... Maggie... have an appointment for Thursday, August 21st at 1:00 pm. If you have any questions, please call..."

Because if people are confused about my son's name, you better believe robots are.