Happy New Year!

So much for my plan of posting every week!

I hope your new year is going well. December was a bit rough around here. The kids were sick the first two weeks and out of school the last two weeks. They started back this week (WOOOHOOOHOO) and I've finally had a break. But my "break" has involved getting caught up on work and prepping for my classes--including one that is a new prep for me and will be the last time the class is offered. Nothing like seeing lots of hard work go for naught.

In any case, there is so much to share with folks, well, actually just to put in this blog so I remember it. I will start with Christopher, since he has been the focus of our attention with his 18 month sleep regression--and subsequent waking up every 2 hours.

There is a spot on Christopher's cheek, just above his jaw, that is so soft and mushy that it is the best spot to kiss I've found on any human being. Kissing that spot (and I kiss it a lot) is one of the highlight's of my day.

Another Christopher feature, less kissable, is his habit of pooping while in down dog position. Oh, indeed-y, it is clearly obvious when Christopher is doing his thing when he looks like he's creating a new down dog/plank merge. Nonetheless, the poop I want to remember forever (truly) involves 5 to 10 minutes of dramatic down dog producing yoga one tiny, yet perfect, still solid and recognizable blueberry.

Have I mentioned how much he likes blueberries? He would gladly eat a complete pint if we let him. Apparently, he was so stuffed on that day that one popped out. (Pooped out!!)

Ah, yes. He is an adorable little boy. We actually call him Kisstopher frequently because of how much he likes to kiss and be kissed. His cousins have suggested that we drop that nickname before he hits high school. Well, I guess so. It actually might work to his advantage. But we'll wait.

I am seriously thinking of starting to blog more "other thing" topics here, such as psychological research (have you heard about that new ESP study? Fascinating!!) I'd also like to start talking more explicitly on the difficulties of being a working mother, even with the flexible job that I have. I'm not sure what audience these topics will attract, and if I really want those audiences to learn so much about my infertility, miscarriages and breastfeeding exploits. ALTHOUGH, I'm not ashamed of any of them and the more we talk about this stuff out in the open, the more it will be normal.

In any case, I'll actually have to BLOG. I want to. And if I'm doing it about work stuff, I'll feel less guilty doing it before all the kids have gone to sleep.

Virii

Oh, dear.

Here's another fun feature of twins, although I would imagine this applies to all families with more than two children. We've been like a slow motion Domino collapse around here. It turns out it wasn't fifth disease. The fever has been too high. And fortunately, it is not the flu either.

It is, however, some sort of respiratory virus that has felled my children. Dave and I are just fine. But the kids are, as we say in the south, puny. Conor is actually home sick today for the first time in years. I honestly don't remember the last time he had a fever.

So for the twins, the progression was: cough, 101+ fever, puke, no appetite for a period of time, lethargy for a period of time (HATE that symptom), and then a secondary bacterial infection. Although those are many of the the symptoms for the flu, Christopher was tested and it came back negative. So, either it's a different flu strain than the one they were testing for or this is a different respiratory infection.

In any case, bleah. We've had someone with a fever here for 11 days. Woo. Hoo. I can't imagine Dave and I are going to get this if we've been around it so long (and the snotty kisses that go with comforting one's sick, pukey children) and not gotten it.

But there you have it. And famous last words, right? I'm sure I have just doomed myself to posting tomorrow about my 102 fever.

5th and Poop

Continuing my goals to just post when I have time, here's my second post of the day. Since this morning, oh, joy!, we have figured out that both Bridget and Christopher have 5th disease. In the scheme of things, that's not a big deal. It's just a common virus in which the main symptom (besides a fever that lasts for the normal 3 days o' virus fever) is the bright red cheeks.

However, it's just one more thing to add on the list of reasons why tonight's sleep is going to be crappy tonight.

And in the goals of catching up on all the exciting things that have happened, let me share the story of The Poop In the Tub. Really, I don't know how to build up that story much beyond One of My Children Pooped In the Tub. That's pretty much the high (low) light of any story. It was Christopher and I should have known it was coming when he assumed the position.

Christopher is very picky on how he poops--which is in a yoga position--down dog to be exact. It's obvious when it's happening; yes it is when a child gets a determined look in down dog. I should have acted more quickly when he got in that position in the tub, but I thought he was reaching for a toy. Yet, he was not.

That's one of those things you just wish never really happened. Oh, yes. But still. It's a good story, right? Good time or good story. That's become our motto around here.

Incongruity

Here is a picture of the twins' Halloween costume. Yes, they were adorable! So adorable, in fact, that they were featured on the front page of the online Charlotte Observer for 3 hours the day after Halloween! And yes, I AM bragging about that. I have always felt that feeling "proud" of some other person's accomplishment is a bit narcissistic, reflecting in some way your involvement in someone else's accomplishment (which is rarely the case). It's why I'm often very, very happy for other people, but rarely "proud" of them.

NONETHELESS, I am so proud of how cute they look and that they were on the front page of our local newspaper's online edition. Ha! I even love that in that picture they have become Thing 1 and Thing 2 looking adorably like imps about to do something bad. :-)

The incongruity comes from talking about Halloween when I also want to talk about last night's HORRIBLE night of (no) sleep. We're in the 18 month sleep regression. I vividly remember this stage with Conor and was convinced we were doing something wrong; that the co-sleeping was coming back to bite us on the butt.

Ummm, no.

This is a normal stage in which children's brains explode and their sleeping stops. We're back to newborn waking. Add on to that Bridget's bronchitis and her coughing so hard in her sleep she wakes up screaming (and puking! Thanks, Dave, for taking that one for the team last night!). and there is not enough coffee in the day to help me think clearly.

And thank ye gods and goddesses that I am past tenure, so I work, but not kill myself getting papers out over the next 4 months while we get through this stage. Yes, I'm still planning on submitting 4 conference papers and a journal submission in the next 4 months (one is already done), but I'm not planning on 4 additional journal submissions in the next 4 months. That's the difference and it is a big one.

So there. That's what is on my mind. And that is how scattered I think and what has become the new normal for us. It works. :-)

Ummm, hey!

Yes, yes, I'm still here. Insert repetitive whine about how busy I've been.

I'm actually catching up on "things" this morning. This often happens when I've been working my a$$ off on "school" work and I have neglected my "home" work. Everything is work for me. Even knitting is "gift" work. Reading is "intellectual" work. Running is "health" work.

I am weird.

You should know that already, right? And by "you" I mean the three of you still regularly or even occasionally stopping by here.

I continue to have tons of conversations with you or topics I want to blog about. I JUST DON'T HAVE FREAKIN' TIME!!

So, whatevs. I'm going to do some picture posts now. And then I really hope I can work back in my life a few 10 minutes posts here and there when I have something funny or vexing to share.

So, yeah, HEY!! Hope you're doing well!! We're ok over here. Hoping I can share a few things over the next few days.

Soccer

So yes, we remain busy around here. With an active and exciting life. (The irony in that statement will become apparent later on) Why, just Friday night, both babies (ok, they are toddlers now), both toddlers had one mighty explosive puke each and the dog ate our dinner right off the table.

And we have recently decided to take a 3 to 6 month hiatus from eating out at restaurants. Bridget absolutely cannot sit in her chair when we are out any more. She *has* to go around to every table and wave "Hi!" to the people sitting there. Yes, she is adorable and yes everyone melts when she arrives at their table. But it's getting too much and we're afraid her light-of-1000 suns cuteness will wear out for others sooner than it will for us.

Christopher continues to blow us away. Apparently, he has become the leader in his daycare class. He picks up whatever the other children drop and give it to them. When they are playing in the sandbox, he hugs every child in there. And when they come back in from the playground, he leads all the children over to the sink to wash their hands.

I have to be honest with you: it's overwhelming enough to fall in love with one child every day. My head and heart are going to explode falling in love with 3 children day in and day out. That part between Conor and the twins--the 8 miscarriages---that part sucked. But this part is extra-special sweet.

So, umm, soccer! Yeah.

Conor has started playing soccer and it is really a lot of fun. First, at 99.9th percentile height, it is relatively easy to pick him out on the field. Second, Conor has perfected an advanced move to psych the opposing team out while he plays: skipping. Perhaps you saw that at the world cup this year? No? Really? Additionally, Conor has an innate enthusiasm about life (from me) and very long arms (from Dave). Let's just say, that while he is skipping, his arms are also wildly swinging about in happiness for playing the game. He is noticeable.

He is also not aggressive out there. He is not a ball-hog and keeps a fair distance from the action as if he has been told to play defense. (He has not) So during the first game, when out of nowhere he ran through the crowd and with a sliding-on-the-ground kick kept the opponent's ball from scoring, we were a wee bit surprised. So was he, we noticed, as he stayed in that position for a few beats replaying his defensive move in his head and looking towards us, grinning, to see if we noticed. Yes. Yes we did, we cheered to him.

He has since, in the last two games, scored a couple of goals and is gaining some confidence. He seems to really enjoy it and the nights after practice or a game, he goes to bed quite easily. Yay! Easy bedtimes are a cause for celebration around here.

We also enjoy getting to see other kids and experience the range of normal. Our favorite story thus far involves a sweet boy on the first night of practice. Let me preface this by saying that Conor's old teacher told us that 6 years old is a preview for puberty. If that's true, we are screwed. I never thought that 10% of the utterances I made to my son would be some variation of "keep your hands off your penis." We are MUCH more discreet than that and we don't want to introduce any shame to a natural act, but there are only so many times one can say such a thing before one wants to shout "STOP DOING THAT!" (which we never have)

So back to soccer practice. Perhaps you can guess where I am going with this.

Dave was standing near the boy's nanny as called him over in the middle of practice. She told him they needed a code word that she could shout out to him during practice so that he would stop "touching his pants."

The boy thought very deeply for minute. Then he suggested to her "How about: Let go of the tiger tail?"

I will wait for you to stop laughing. And I will brag on both my husband and the nanny that neither of them laughed (out loud) at that child. Indeed, the nanny just matter of factly said to the boy, "How about: Tiger tail."

Tiger tail, indeed. Dave and I have routinely been shouting Tiger Tail to each other around the house and for no reason mentioned previously except that it makes us laugh really hard.

I continue to blog that it's crazy around here. You should continue to think that. Sometimes, it still shocks me that we have twins. That we have 3 children! And that we're only at the beginning of this crazy ride. Ah, well. It's crazy but it's our brand of crazy and so far it's still pretty good.

My Bleb

I have a bleb. It is as lovely as it sounds. I will explain what a bleb is, but first I have two confessions.

1: I am still breastfeeding the twins.

2: they are still sleeping with us.

There! Now you know our dark secrets.

I talked a lot more about breastfeeding with Conor than I have with the twins. I'm not sure why, except it may have something to do with the same reasons why I would NEVER breastfeed the twins in public, and I breastfed Conor in public all the time.

Breastfeeding a singleton is one of those Hallmark moments in which mother and child gaze into each others eyes with love and connection. Breastfeeding twins is more like being a sow. Especially when one has an athletic daughter who prefers to nurse in a down dog position. And will sometimes attack one's breast like a tribble. Of course, you know that I don't think there's a damn thing wrong with nursing twins--as mine are 15 months old and I fully plan to go at least two years---but it is not a Hallmark moment. The double twin standing nursing pose? Well, let's just say, we have pictures and you will not be seeing them.

And sleeping with us? Well, we've always done that and it just makes it easier. It's just that with a bleb, one will often wake up in the middle of the night with the sensation of a knife stabbing you in your bassoomies.

So yes, we're going past 6 weeks of my bleb, a milk blister. It apparently can take between 6 and 8 weeks for a bleb to heal. Yippee! Truly, I've not been doing everything I can--such as applying wet heat (as hot as one can stand) every 4 hours around the clock. Dudes--it hurts. But I am NOT going to get up in the middle of the night to soak my boob for 20 minutes before the twins wake up and nurse. Hells bells, I RARELY even sleep 4 hours in a row to wait for them to eat again.

Yes, here's the part you may not understand. The twins sleep as well as Conor did---they get up two or three times a night. Each. EACH.

EACH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That means that on a good night, I'm up only 4 times. That has happened, oh let's say, twice in the last 15 months. Most nights, I'm up 6 times a night. Occasionally, I'll use my running watch (HA! RUNNING! I RAN ONCE! HA!) to "lap" how long I sleep. It's a good night--and I feel well rested---if I get one stretch of about 3 hours. Then the laps will get shorter to: hour, hour, hour, 45 minutes, 30 minutes...time to get up.

I'm tired. I'm not going to deny that. And blebless, I can sleep through most feedings. But it's doable. And I know that in another year or so, they'll be sleeping much longer and eventually, so will I.

Eventually.

I freaked a bit when I read on my twin mother's support group that other MOMs who co-sleep, when their twins finally started sleeping through the night, it took them months...MONTHS (I'm shouting a lot in this entry)...MONTHSSSSSSS to finally sleep and feel rested again.

Bleb. Breastfeeeding. Co-sleeping. A sleep schedule that would make normal people scream.

So now you know.

Firsts

Conor, in his school uniform, on his first day of school.

Bridget on her first day of daycare.

Christopher on his first day of daycare.

Things are going well. Conor learned the French ABCs today and has been practicing saying Bonjour to all of us. We are still working out his bus issues, but it will be fixed soon.

Bridget and Christopher are having a rough time in daycare. Bridget is miserable there and perfectly fine at home. Christopher is ok there, and clingy to the extreme at home. He's actually really mad at me when I come to pick him up and, honestly, he melts into tears from the time I arrive until we get in the car. I think that's when he realizes I'm not leaving him. Their teachers are WONDERFUL and, as we asked, they are holding Bridget pretty much all day long. Things are actually getting better for her, and hopefully, they'll get better for Christopher soon.

It's all good. It's all the right things. And I'm having a lot of fun at work making progress on research projects and projects outside of the university. Work=fun is amazing.

9:30 and time for bed. We're back on marathon training schedule to get the kids to school. We're just not running now.

Kindergarten

Conor starts kindergarten on Tuesday. We thought he was starting last Wednesday with the rest of the Charlotte Mecklenburg system. We thought wrong.

Apparently, here at CMS, they have a staggered system. We thought (along with many other first time parents) that meant that not all the schools start at the same time in the morning. While that is true, it also means that kindergarteners get a "trial" day the first 5 days of school; that is, they only go one of the first 5 days of school. So some kids had their trial day on Wednesday and then start kindergarten for real the NEXT Wednesday, we have our trial day on Tuesday and then start for real on Wednesday.

So, um, yeah. That's actually fine. Conor starts kindergarten in two days. And actually, the twins start daycare tomorrow.

Halle-effin-lujah. We had two great nannies. Two women who were fantastic with the twins. But I am going to be so glad to the twins back to our regular daycare where I don't have to worry about what to tell someone to fix them for lunch, if I have the food I want them to have for lunch, if there is enough food for the nanny to eat something for lunch, does the nanny know how to prepare what they should have for lunch, and then to repeat the whole thing again for snack. Seriously. We loved the nannies, but I am so glad to be sending them to daycare.

Of course, the panic attacks in the middle of the night of how we're going to do all this have been a lot of fun. First, we cannot afford after-care for Conor. We were going to send him to an aftercare program at our church, but we honestly and truthfully do not have the money. How is that possible? Due to an amazingly low fixed rate mortgage we are not paying any more for that. And we were fine when it was just Conor is daycare, so what the heck?

I'll tell you the heck. It's doubling the daycare payments AND the new car payment. We had paid off both cars a while back so we didn't have a car payment. But the twins can't fit in a jetta, much less the twins, Conor, Dave, me and sometimes a dog. Here's a number that made Dave and me slack jawed in pain and anticipation: in 4 years when the twins enter kindergarten and we pay off the car, we'll have $2,000 more tax free dollars per month to, I don't know, to do what? That is so much money right now, we could use it for toilet paper and still end up ahead.

So that's been part of the panic attack--we have no money, we can't afford for Conor to be in after school care, but I, um, kind of have to work! But then we got some good news and some kind of bad news that helped solve the after school dilemma. Basically, if Conor rides the bus and I take him to the bus stop, I will have plenty of hours to get my work done during the day and Conor will not be in after school care. That's the good news. The bad news is that it will be a long-ish day for Conor--although not really longer than daycare. But it will start early. REALLY early. The twins' time in daycare will be about the same as Conor's has been these last 5 years, but not worse.

So that's where we are. I think it's sort of funny that people think I'm having a hard time with the twins going to daycare. But I don't. I'm more worried about Conor. I want him to have enough free time during the day--that doesn't involve sitting on a bus. I know it's going to work out. It always has. But the transition is going to be a little crazy and that's a little bit overwhelming right now.

Viral Pneumonia

Now that's a blog title!

Um, so, uh, yeah! It's been a busy week. First, viral pneumonia is not nearly as bad as bacterial pneumonia. And, indeed, we caught Bridget's viral pneumonia/chest cold early.

Ok. So let's back up a bit. Bridget appeared to come down with croup (from her brother, as you may recall) last Monday. I am not that worried about croup, so I saw no need to call the doctor. And then Bridget sort of melted over both Dave and me and wouldn't move from sitting in our lap with her head on our shoulder.

Lethargy is never a good sign in a feisty child, particularly one with a fever.

Additionally, Monday night, Bridget started throwing up. Tuesday morning, we opted to go in to the doctor, because again, Bridget could not even lift her head off our shoulder.

I expected the doc to give me another lecture about how viruses can cause croup, blah, blah, but instead he put Bridget right on a nebulizer. Fortunately, her breathing cleared up so no need for x-rays or oxygen. Instead, we went home with an albuterol inhaler and orders to come back Friday.

The virus continued this course for a while. Bridget has no energy, ran a high-ish fever (102 to 104), threw up, and as she got better, had diarrhea. And of course, there was the junky cough. Coughs are not good indicators of chest colds/viral pneumonias. Lethargy is. REMEMBER THAT if your child loses all his or her energy.

So, yeah. She's better now. The ultra-conservative doctor put her on an antibiotic which freaked both Dave and me out. This doc HATES antibiotics and to give her one without her having a bacterial infection really freaked me out.

In any case, school starts back next week and I am completely not ready for it. Last week, I had planned on doing what I'm doing this week. But I couldn't leave my little baby while she was this sick. So I'm trying to catch up this week before next week starts. I'm a wee bit freaked out.

Life With Twins

Do you want to know what life with twins is like? Do you want to know why Mothers of Multiples (MOMS) say it's much harder than you can imagine? Let me share this story with you.

Let's say you have a twin, a twin with floppy windpipe, something that while noisy is not that dangerous. Unless the child develops croup. At this point, it is prudent to put this child on prednisone to reduce the swelling in the throat and help the child breathe. This is a good thing. There is just one caveat: the major side effect of hyperactivity. Let's, hypothetically, call this twin: Christopher.

So on a Friday night when Christopher's twin sister falls asleep at 7:30, Christopher is a whirling dervish around the family room, giddily playing with every toy he can and manically running back and forth along the room until, oh, say 10:30. On the second night of medication, his parents look up whether benadryl can be given along with prednisone and, lo and behold, IT CAN! So on Saturday night, Bridget passes completely out at 7:30 and Christopher is only up until 9:30.

Not being slow, the parents of a twin on prednisone will, on the third and final night of medication, give benadryl right after dinner. And HOORAY! Christopher goes to sleep at exactly the right bedtime of 7:30. And so does his sister! Hooray! Hooray!

But that's not what it's like to be parents of twins. No. The twin god laughs when both babies go to sleep at the same time after two hellish nights. Nope, life with twins means that the sister twin wakes up at 7:50 and refuses to go back to sleep. With just one child, a) we would be enjoying a free night tonight or b) we would have enjoyed two previously free nights. But instead, we have one child peacefully sleeping and another happily playing, having had two amazing nights of sleep under her belt.

So, there. We were away for a good 11 day trip to see Dave's family in the midwest. AND WE DROVE! Yes! 6 days in the car for an 11 day trip. It wasn't as bad as you might imagine, and there were a couple of unexpected highlights including a hotel bathroom that opened into the bedroom and zooming (and subsequent squeals of laughter from the kids) over Ohio hills in Amish country. There was also an AMAZING thunderstorm and 12 straight hours of lightening. There was so much continuous lightening at one point that I thought a police car was outside the house and the lights were flashing through the window.

More, more, more to share. Christopher is walking now and has been for two weeks. Conor starts kindergarten in three weeks. The twins start daycare (AND NOT A MOMENT TOO SOON) in 4 weeks.

I'm not giving up this blog. I know I say that every (rare) time I update. I'm not ready to give it up yet. I am ready for a little more free time, but I have no control over when that is going to happen again.

Summer School

{Start blog}

{Insert paragraph bemoaning lack of blogging activity}

{Insert paragraph subtly rescinding apology because current state of life eliminates ability to post}

{Insert long and winding paragraph expressing hope that current state of life will pass by and sleep and mental abilities will be restored}

{Mention recent blog post written in head about Charlotte Observer's series about SIDS being over used on infants' death certificates (good) and arguing that cosleeping will kill children (bad). Provide link along with compelling argument as to why Charlotte Observer's attempt to win a journalism article has provided poor and misleading advice to parents.}

{Provide witty and entertaining account of twins' first birthday, along with Bridget's ability to walk like a zombie monkey and Christopher's current status of taking 3 steps. Share engaging stories of Conor, which woo the reader to perceiving the wonderousness that is this child}

{Mention that summer school is nearly over and how little research has been done but class has been a boatload of fun}

{/End blog}

Why, Hello There!

Yes, yes, still around. Not leaving. Hopefully, when things settle down in August as far as kindergarten and daycare, I'll have a little more space to get back to blogging. (To document my life? To work out troublesome issues? To help others?) I'm sure the reasons will evolve, but let's consider today a Documenting Blog.

Let's review the last 7 days, shall we? (feel free to scan the first sentence of each paragraph to hit the highlights and get out of this long entry)

Last Tuesday, Conor lost his first baby tooth. I'm not sure when it's supposed to start but his lost his at 5 years and 10 months. And not only that, his first permanent tooth is coming in and, indeed, is what knocked out his baby tooth. And if it's incoming position is any indication---braces are in our future.

Last Wednesday, Bridget took her first 6 steps. It was the first time she had taken more than a few steps while cruising. Even more exciting, Dave and I got to see it together. That's not always the case if you're not a SAHM or a SAHD, so we were pretty psyched. By Thursday, she was walking across rooms. Christopher was not amused at all the attention she was getting and by Thursday afternoon, every time we cheered for Bridget, he performed what we call Trick #2: Clapping his hands. So it became a cheer-a-thon of being excited for Bridget and rewarding Christopher for clapping. (Do think think there's sibling rivalry? By Friday, Bridget had figured out how to clap and Christopher was taking 2 steps before falling forward into the closest person's arms)

On Friday, Conor graduated from preschool. I had expected that I would weep at the passage of my little boy out of the daycare we have loved since he was 4 months old. (Conor is staying home the rest of the summer with the nannies and then with me when I take July off work) No. I cried as some of Conor's special needs classmates triumphantly performed in the graduation ceremony just as well and enthusiastically as Conor's "typical" classmates did. (Ummmm, everyone did)

Sunday was the twins' first birthday party. It was a lot of fun and pretty cool that we were able to invite a lot of neighbors over with their children who are about the same age as the twins. Conor was the only baby in the 'hood when he was born. Now, we have 3 1 year olds within a 5 house radius. That's exciting.

On the other hand, remembering back to what happened a year ago when the twins were born was not a lot of fun. In fact, I was sad. My twins are perfectly happy and healthy now. And they are at least developmentally caught up if not ahead. But the day they were born sucked. I got to see them for 10 minutes total that day and they were covered in tubes and wires and did not look like healthy babies. EVERYTHING TURNED OUT FINE. I know. But that is not what parents have in mind when they think about their babies' arrival.

So where are we?

OK--Monday, the babies had their first year check ups. Christopher is clocking in at 80th percentile weight and 85th percentile height. He is 4 ounces less than what Conor weighed at one year...and one inch taller. YIKES. He is going to be huge. Bridget remains at 15th percentile weight, but 50th percentile height!! She is a skinny baby with ginormous feet, if I have to describe her.

So yes, that has been my last 7 days. There was also a baby shower in there and some massive cake decorating going on (must post pictures), but you get the idea.

I am also teaching summer school (love it) and Conor is out of school for the rest of the summer. (There are a few camps coming up, but he's going to have fun and goof off this summer before school starts)

I do have more to say, but honestly, I hate reading long blog entries. And Conor and I are reading Charlotte's Web together, so it's time for me to go.

Oh, Dear

We've been praying for an easy year this year. Apparently, God said HA! Well, it's not that bad, but it's certainly not "easy."

First, last week, my good old friend "Aunt Flo" returned. I was actually quite surprised. My cycles started back up when Conor hit 10 months old. The twins are 10 months and 3 weeks old now, so the timing is about right. But now I am breastfeeding TWINS. Two babies. One boob for each. And yet, my cycle has returned. I have imagined the conversation going on inside my body:

Ovaries: Should we send one down? It's about that time again.

Boobs: No way! I'm workin' double time up here. There's no way she would be able to support another baby.

Uterus: Have you SEEN her ass? Go on, Ovaries! Send one down. Heck, send two!

So that was a lot of fun.

Then on Friday, we were filmed for part of a Blue Cross Blue Shield Commercial. I'll post more about that when it comes out, but despite having lived in Los Angeles for 10 years, we were a bit surprised about the crew that arrived for the process. Make up, lightening, sound, BCBS big wigs, and a director and producer. My role was essentially to stare lovingly at Dave as he told our story, not for any sexist, "wifely" reason and pretty much because I had no idea what had actually happened. Sadly, my staring at Dave involved looking at him in profile, and I predict an uncanny resemblance to Professor Snape in the commercial.

On Saturday, we attended our first NICU reunion party. This was quite nice. It was a HUGE party with lots of families attending. We saw a couple of our nurses, which was quite nice. We did not see our favorite nurse, but we also missed Nurse Control-A-Lot, so overall it was a win.

This morning, on the other hand, I had to attend an academic integrity hearing for a student of mine whom I caught plagiarizing. You might think that would be an easy thing to do: AHA! A student has been caught doing wrong! I will get him/her!! You cannot imagine how it is not like that at all. At our school, hearings are rare. Most of the time, students get a "settlement" in which they admit their guilt, receive their "penalty" and the information is kept top secret for 8 years and then destroyed. So, cases like this are the exception.

And this case did not go as expected. There was lying, denying, external attributions of fault, anger, sulking, admissions of other plagiarism, and general Things That Are Not Good. And that was just me!!

I jest.

It was bad. And it was bad to see the student do what I would presume are all the same things that have gotten him/her out of trouble before. This was not a growth experience for this student. This was not a moment that is going to make him or her finally straighten up and fly right. This was just one stop in what I would guess is going to be a long line of messing up rather significantly. He/She did not get out of this. He/She was found guilty and was dealt a pretty severe penalty. Still, there is no relief.

And the emotional fallout for me has, surprisingly, been high. I protect my students. I cheer them on and coach them and want them to grow and do well. I recognize that not all are at that stage in their lives or have that goal, but if they want it, I want to help them achieve it. It's not fun and it's not why I'm a professor.

Oh and what else? I forgot to register to review for a conference so I may have let that person down. I have my first dissertation defense on Friday (on self harm in adolescent girls. Light and fun topic!!). I have 25 student project papers arriving tomorrow and another student waiting for another review. AND Christopher has a double ear infection and is quite cranky/sick.

There is more. There is always more. But I'm sure you're tired of hearing of my whining. God(dess) knows I am.

Why I Don't Post More

This is photo tableau of why I do not have time to blog. They keep us on our toes from morning to night. If they just weren't so darn cute.

What A Week

Sometimes, I have to work really hard to come up with the prose to make things sound interesting around here. And sometimes, it sort of writes itself.

Obviously, you can be the judge of whether our last week has been as eventful as I think or whether I should have spent a bit more time, effort and actually grown some talent to make it seem more compelling.

Let's just go chronologically, shall we? Friday, Nanny #2 and I were discussing a blister/sore that Nanny #1 had noticed on Bridget on Thursday. I had said, on Thursday, "Oh, she must be sucking her hands and fingers and got a blister. Babies do that when they're born, you know." Then Nanny #2 said, "Wow, it really looks like a burn."

Ding ding ding ding ding. I rewound my brain and remembered when Bridget stuck her hand between the bottom of the hot oven door and the top of the oven storage drawer. She had only cried for a moment and when I stuck my hand in there it wasn't hot. Apparently, though, it was.

A quick trip to the doctor and a diagnosis of a 2nd degree burn and instructions how to take care of it---neosporin and hand washing (although he showed me how to wash Bridget's hands, which annoyed the ever loving hell out of me)---and we were back, none the worse for the wear.

Then on Sunday, Conor tells us a story of how he and his new playmate found a dead mouse? And how his new friend pushed all the blood out of this dead mouse by putting a rock on top of it and squishing it. I'm not even going to try to make that more dramatic than it is, but basically I flipped out. If you'd like to know why, then read this article. In any case, how we're going to deal with this issue is still in motion, so no more comments about it here, except it freaked me (and continues to freak me) out.

Monday and Tuesday were mellow, just normal random throw up, crying, and lack of sleep. And that was just Dave!

I kid! It was our multiple offspring, but I had to put that there. Then this morning, oh, let's say at about 4 am, the random throw up (Bridget once Monday morning) became more regular (Christopher, three times in a row. then again at 7 and then again at 8:30). Since Christopher had had congestion for the last 8 months and we think it's related to allergies and our Doctor (Dr. Here's How You Wash A Child's Hands) refuses to listen to us and he was constantly yakking, we decided to take him to the doctor's office. And see another Doctor. HA! Cheating on our doctor! And trying to find one who listens and doesn't think I'm an idiot.

Surprisingly, this new-to-us Doctor DID listen to me about Christopher's congestion. Why yes, he said, 8 months a really long time for a child to be congested. Some children are born sniffley, but still. It could also be a problem. And for the first time, a doctor agreed with me that Christopher's eczema is likely related to his congestion. After diagnosing an ear infection and an unrelated stomach bug, he suggested we give Christopher a half teaspoon of benadryl to see if that will stop his congestion.

At home, Christopher had his first doses of both penicillin and benadryl, and took a nap. A long nap. A long nap in which he did not snore. For the first time since we brought him home from the hospital.

But that's not all! No, burns, mutilated mice and yakking, infected, congested children do not cover all the excitement around here! No, the last bit of thrill happened during dinner, when I looked over at Bridget and saw a growing redness around her mouth, cheeks and nose. After deciding that I was not imagining it and going through a mental checklist of what we ate new for dinner that night, I narrowed it down to the eggplant Bridget had loved so much she'd have 3 helpings. But allergic? to eggplant?! Why, yes, it is possible! And a quick call to the after hours nurse made me very, very grateful that we'd bought children's benadryl today. The nurse was as excited as I was, saying that if we didn't have it, she would have stayed on the phone as Dave had gone out to get it, come back and give it to Bridget. Yeah.

She is fine now. We have to give her another dose in 6 hours but the rash went away in about 45 minutes. And tonight, she and Christopher are both sleeping well and breathing well. We know this because we've been checking on them quite a bit. But no more eggplant at our house. I fully realize that I am the only person mourning that fact. But it also scares me that Bridget has a food she can't eat again. It sort of freaks one out to know that something she could eat could make her sick. Or worse.

It's been an eventful week. I would just as soon it not be eventful any more. I could use boring. I could stand to be bored for a while now.

Hello There

So there's busy. And there's working mother of 10 month old twins and a 5 year old and a working husband. Hello!

I'm not leaving this blog. But I may be on leave this semester from it. By the time we get the babies to sleep and the place somewhat cleaned up, I just want to sit down with a glass of wine and watch TV. Even if that does happen, I usually only get 30 minutes to 1 hour of free time. And the often brain work required to do that is more than I have left.

And I don't really feel bad about that. I feel bad about a boatload of other things. But not about neglecting this too much. Except, I do feel bad about not documenting the twins' babyhood as well as I did Conor's. I know that happens moving from the first to subsequent children, but I still feel guilty.

Especially when I have such news to report as Bridget nearly walking and Christopher clearly saying "Daddy" (no Da Da) to Dave. Christopher has also started playing advanced Peek-a-boo with whatever linen he can find. And I just checked the previous blog entry and I did not mention that Bridge started to cruise about a month ago and can now stand up momentarily on her own. Christopher has just started creeping, in comparison, but he's still pretty darn proud of it.

Why here he is, creeping up on poor Patches instead of being in bed. Another difference in first vs. later children is that if one isn't ready for bed, I don't sit in the bedroom rocking for an hour until he goes to sleep. I'm sure we've doomed him or Bridget to a lifetime of horrible sleeping, but that's just too damn bad. I can't sit up there that long any more. And I don't believe it anyway.

As for the thousands of conversations I have in my head on this blog, the latest is what a witch I was on Easter! Yes! I won the award for worst mother of the year on Easter morning...BEFORE church! When we walked in and saw our friends, they kindly said "Happy Easter!" My blaring eyes, wild hair and frothing gave away my true meaning when I said "HAPPY EASTER TO YOU TOO!"

I'll simply provide the 15 minute highlight of dressing the twins in their very expensive outfits and then us all losing it. These highlights include: figuring out that their sailor outfits were not navy blue, but were black. Dressing infants! In black! For Easter!!

Then Christopher's button came off before I could even put his outfit on!! Did I mention EXPENSIVE? (And I don't mean "target" expensive)

Then we went down for pictures---one button gone be damned! I was going to take some pictures. Conor is running around the house in corduroys despite the hot weather. I sent him to change his clothes and he came back with a decent outfit and a tobaggon on his head he wouldn't take off. Fine.

"Sit down with the twins to get your picture taken."

"No."

"Sit!"

"NO!!!"

"Fine!!! Then years from now when you look back and don't see yourself in these pictures I'll tell you that you refused to do it!!!!!" <--the peak of my bad motherness.

Seven bad pictures later, another button fell off of Christopher's EXPENSIVE BLACK EASTER OUTFIT. It only had 4 buttons! And 2 fell off in 10 minutes.

I believe that I was enraged at this point. All those images in my head of beautiful Easter pictures of my children in their matching Easter outfits (none black, by the way) as we go to church to have everyone oooh and aaaaaw of their cuteness is completely blown. I am so angry. So mad at the everybody. So achingly frustrated. And we're going to Church. On EASTER.

It got better. But it didn't start off that well. And now I've made my confession to you.

Time to relax. After I get Christopher back to bed and actually to sleep.

She's Alive!

Yes, we're still alive over here in the Mother Thing household. But just barely. I have a ton of things I want to blog about, some factual/chronological and some more meditation on current events in our family.

However.

I don't have the time. It's 8:00 over here and although Christopher is sound asleep, Bridget is practicing her cruising. Oh the joys of a 9 month old and her sleep. In any case, the good news is that Bridget sleeps almost the entire night once she gets to sleep. It's just getting her to sleep and getting her to stop waving and cruising and practicing saying Da Da that's the issue. The big difference between us as parents with Conor and us as parents with Christopher and Bridget? Instead of sitting in their room and rocking and rocking and rocking and rocking (and rocking), we just bring her back downstairs and do some work until she gets sleepy. Then lickety split, she's back in bed and asleep. I have no doubt that's All Wrong (for your family), but it works for us. You try convincing her that little girls who can wave can sleep just as well as little girls who can't.

Speaking of other baby issues, I used my infant CPR this morning. This was not a fun event, in case you're wondering. We were eating breakfast and Christopher appeared to be having problems swallowing. Since he had a cold, we figured he had some sort of mucus issue that was causing the problem or that the livermush (!) he was eating was too big. Then I looked over and he was making the choking face: Mouth open, struggling, no sound. I picked him up out of his seat, threw him upside down over my left arm and began to thump him with my right arm. I would like to say that I was incredibly focused and not at all feeling adrenaline. It took two thumps and then it came off of his windpipe, he coughed and it came out of his mouth. it was a velcro round from one of Conor's toys. Dave and I were actually still pretty calm by this point, but Conor was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't until after Christopher started his comfort boob that Conor poked his head back in the dining room again. It scared the carp out of him. I honestly though that the infant CPR class they made us take before we could take the babies out of NICU was b.s. Now? Not so much.

In better baby news, the twins were dedicated at church on Sunday. It was a beautiful ceremony and they were angels. Yes, I do owe you pictures of them (and the house) soon.

Speaking of the house, the great irony of the remodel is that we have more work to do on the house now than we did before the remodel. That annoys me!! We were hoping to have a few years of doing nothing, but we still have to decorate, organize, etc. etc. for a while more. And the CLEANING! It takes a lot more work to clean this bigger house with 5 people in it than it did in a smaller house with 3.

In any case, here's something good for you to know: if you paint your house a darkish blue, it's going to change colors quite dramatically based on whether it's in the sun or the shade. And even the direction of the sun (east, south) makes a big difference. Sometimes I drive up to our house and think "Oh, dear" and sometimes (in the shade), I think our house color is really nice. It's like living in a mood ring, though, that's for sure.

OK. Bridget is eating my leg. This is generally a sign that she's ready for sleep. Let us hope.

Hold On

I'm still here and I have about a zillion blog updates to write. I'm just so tired after working and getting the babies to bed that the hour I have to myself after the kids go to bed and before I go to bed, well, I'm keeping that hour to myself.

General stories to follow:

*Quirks, Part Deux: Conor's underwear

*Bridget: It's her world, we just live in it.

*Christopher: My head is too big to hold up all the time. Now I'll cry.

*Amy Bishop is a nut, but I freaked out and talked about tenure all the time, too.

*I'm a wonderful human being!!!!: How I yelled at my mom, accidentally pointed out a couple who broke up before my class and were crying, and made two graduate students plus my son cry (irony in title will be prominent in that post)

*I'm still keeping the weight off from Pukefest 2010. Except as soon as I said that, three lbs jumped back on.

*(In a follow up post) I weigh the same as I did before I had Conor, but none of my body parts are in their same location. Plus my boobs are HUGE. And I don't like that any more.

*Two showers a week: Why working mothers don't smell as pretty as they used to.

*Our Remodeled House: Why do we have so much more freakin' work to do on it?

*Our Remodeled House, Part II: Blue looks different in the shade than in the sun. Whoops! Next time, we'll paint the house yellow.

Stay tuned for more exciting episodes of....This, That and the Old Mother Thing.

Quirks

The twins have grown out of that blank infant stage and have started to become distinct babies. They still really dig each other, holding hands while they nurse and touching each others' faces first thing in the morning. But they are quite different as far as their personalities go.

Christopher is just like Conor was. He laughs easily and, apparently, when I sneeze, tickle him, or throw him in the air, I am the funniest mother that ever lived. And like Conor, he is not all that interested in movement. Like Conor, when you are a fat baby with a ginormo head, it's hard to actually propel yourself around with your arms and legs. Unlike Conor, Christopher has decided to just lie on the floor and kick his legs like he's trying to swim across our hardwood floors. The good news is that he has advanced from last month when he would kick his legs for a few minutes and then put his head down and sob. Now, he'll kick and perhaps even spin around a bit before he puts his head down to rest a bit and try it again. It's really the only time he gets upset. When I say he's a happy child, I mean that 95% of the time, he's amusing himself with his toys and then looking up at whoever is around, cocking his head to one side and laughing. It's hard not to run over and grab him and kiss him when he does this, so I don't even try to resist.

Bridget, on the other hand....

Well, Bridget makes you work for her smiles. They are absolutely worth the effort because her whole face will light up, but she's not giving them out for free and never giving them to strangers (who usually make her scream). And quite unlike Christopher, the child is very, very mobile. She's not crawling yet (THANK GOD(DESS)), but she's creeping her way all over the house. The child is tiny, yet she's cover a space that is proportionately enormous just to see what is there.

She was trying to eat the mirror in our bedroom and so I put her way on the other side of the room to keep her safe. She made a beeline back to the mirror, stopping only for a minute to chew on an extension cord along the way. (A box of new baby proofing supplies arrived today, in case you were wondering) And because she is still drooling so much, we can tell where she has been crawling. Much like a giant slug, she leaves a trail of spit in her wake.

And just today, she started to growl when she crawls. She is still the queen of raspberries and feels free to use them to make comments about everything. But now, she's growling. She's not angry; she's just playing with her voice. But it's a bit disconcerting seeing this extra tiny baby crawling across the floor with a trail of slime behind her while she growls.

Speaking of disconcerting, Conor has started to really blossom into his own person. His own quite quirky person. (He is our child, you know) The latest was his proud declaration that he did not want to poop at school. While Dave agrees that he would not poop at their school, either, Conor when on to share how he will "move his poop back up inside" so he won't poop at school.

Yeah. That's one of those things that you learn about a family member that you care about and still think, "Dude, that's weird." But we shall judge not his poopitude. We've talked to him and his teachers that if he needs to go he should go. But he prefers to poop here in the bathroom he prefers to poop in (versus the other bathroom downstairs). Folks I PROMISE you, we did not put any pressure on potty training.

And then, his teacher overheard him explaining to his classmate about having a new sister "One of the good things about having a baby sister is that your parents love you more because you can be more useful." Dave and I were a bit saddened by that. Does he think we only love him b/c he's useful? No, but still! When we asked him about it, he told us that he told his classmate the good thing about having a baby brother and sister is that you can go to your room and shut the door when they start crying.

I have to be honest with you. Of all the things we would have imagined Conor to say about being a big brother, being loved more because we put him to work and the ability to get away from their crying would have not be on our top 20, even top 30, things we would have expected him to say.

So there. He's not us. Conor is his own little funky, loving, slightly bizarre and completely lovable person. He's really separating and keeping secrets and having his own opinions. And it's really nice. Quirky. But nice.