My "Unwanted" Twins

Both of Nanny Mary's daughters resigned from the law firm's day care upon hearing that my twins would be joining the day care. Talk about not feeling welcome! The law partners are thrilled that it saved them the dirty task of firing them. Their last day is May 23rd. I feel uncomfortable now taking my twins to day care on Monday knowing they are so damn unwanted as to force two uneducated-no-other-options girls into quitting a ridiculously high paying with benefits baby-sitting gig. Mark says I am being stupid, but it's bothering me.

Stupid, silly girls. The twins are only going up there Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays for about 3 hours per day....and I guarantee they would probably sleep the entire time. Grr.

Screw'em.

There are only 5 children (counting my twins) in the day care. My twins (3 months old), a 5-month old singleton baby, and 2 2-year olds. The babies and the toddlers are kept completely separate. I don't know much of anything about day care, but that seems like a good ratio to me. The firm had plans to hire a third person in June, so it would be 3 adults to 5 children. Oh and the receptionist is pregnant and due in August, so that would be an additional baby. That would make it a 2-to-1 ratio.

Blah, Blah, Blah. Not sure what to do about Monday though. Any thoughts?

Illogical Ramblings...and too tired to care

I think my husband is on the brink of doing some kind of intervention on me. The last two days have been tough on me, but what's new at this point. I am starting to sound like a broken record. I truly think this level of exhaustion that I have been experiencing for 7 weeks now is making me lose my mind. There was a lot of discussion between Mark and I about the possibility of starting the twins in day care soon. On a very limited part-time basis (like 2 mornings a week). This, of course, led to massive guilt on my part and that led to half a day of crying. It seems that as soon as I start to think I really need to call my OB and have him put me on anti-depressants, I finally get 3+ hours of consecutive sleep and I wake up feeling like a new person. Mark has been great the past few days. I think he finally pulled his head out of his ass and realized how lucky he was to have a week off from the babies. And I think he is worried his wife is going insane, and if that happened he would really be screwed. Whatever his motivation, he has been a lot better.

I read a great line yesterday that sums up how I am feeling about motherhood right now..."I'm straddling the line between Donna Reed and Joan Crawford."

I had a long phone chat with my pedi's nurse....mostly about how Kate is driving us crazy and we are worried that something is wrong with her. We also discussed the possibility of part-time day care. We don't think she has acid reflux or colic. She is just fussy. Period. She also told us that if Kate wants me to hold her, then I need to hold her. Babies are establishing trust right now and that is based on their needs being met. I can't spoil Kate at this age by holding her all the time, but I can do damage by not filling her needs (i.e., being held). This is something Mark needed to hear because he is still stuck on this "don't spoil the babies" crap, but it doesn't address the fact that I can't and don't want to hold Kate 24/7. (Oh, and I tried using a sling with Kate today...she hated it. She wants to be vertical on my chest.)

I am going to hold off on day care as long as I can and try to get my Nanny here more often...even though she is expensive. But I also refuse to feel guilty about it either. The same family members who aren't offering to help me out are the same ones making feel guilty about part-time day care. I don't know why this has been bothering me so much lately. I've never been the type to give a damn what people have thought about me or any of my decisions, so I don't know why I would care now...but I have been. I've also decided to not be stupid and try to do this move into the new house on my own. We are hiring movers to pack us and move us. It's worth the price to me. The idea that I don't have to pack up our entire house on my own has taken a HUGE stress weight off my shoulders.

In other news...we may move our closing date on the new house up a week to May 11th. The sellers are wanting that, and it doesn't matter to us either way. We should find out tomorrow.

First Houston Trip

Well, we are back.

It wasn't exactly the "vacation" it was billed to be, but I had an okay time. The change of scenery was definitely good, and it was nice seeing other family members. The spa day did not happen. In fact I only left the house twice the entire week...once to go to Office Max to fax some time-sensitive docs to my mortgage broker and then over to my step-brother's house.

The twins did remarkably well on the car trip. We made a stop halfway for a feeding and changing, but other than that they slept the whole time. Once we got to my mom's, we had a tough day and a half adjustment. They must have known they were in a new environment, and they were extremely fussy....especially Kate, but what's new.

Actually, Kate was a nightmare for pretty much the entire trip. I did not realize a 2 month old baby was capable of doing this, but she only wants me to hold her and hold her ALL of the time. There is no way I can just let her cry it out either because she has the most angry/rageful cry I have ever heard. I am seriously afraid she will pass out if I let her go with it. Kate's new clinginess is draining on me, and I don't know what to do about it. If she isn't eating or sleeping, she is crying for me. Bath time is a rare moment of contentment for her (and me!).

Yesterday, we went over to my step-brother's house. I got to meet his 4-month old baby Adam for the first time, and do some catch-up with his oldest child Ryan. Ryan, who is 2 1/2, was so sweet to the twins. He could not correctly pronounce Kate's name so he called her "Cake." All afternoon he referred to her as "Baby Cake." Cute.

Mark came and got us this morning and drove us all home. I had left him a small 5 item list of things that I needed him to get done during his week off from the twins, and not a single item got done. Instead he bitched about how he was still so tired even though he had a full week of pre-baby sleep. Whatever. The resentment builds and builds. Of course, he wasn't too tired to meet up with friends for dinner & drinks, go to happy hour several times, and catch a minor league baseball game with his best friend. But, apparently, asking him to spray the house with ant killer (that I had already bought and set out for him) while the babies and dogs are gone was entirely too much to ask. Ugh. [Sorry to bitch, but this really pisses me off...and I haven't slept much in the last 2 days.]

So now my complete focus is on preparing for our move into the new house. I need to book some movers and start packing. I guess I also need to find or buy us some boxes since that was on Mark's to-do list, but was not done.

Oh, and I think Carson may have an allergy to pet dander. Ever since we brought him home from the NICU he was been stuffy and congested. The entire time we were in Houston (in a dog-free house), he was completely cleared up. Hmm...

A few Houston pics are posted on our Flickr.

Still trying to adjust

Today was the first day I was completely on my own with the twins. Mom was gone, Mark was at work, and I was flying solo. My new schedule is to sleep from 7 PM (after Mark gets home and we eat dinner) to midnight. Mark is on "duty" then. Then I get up at midnight and stay up until 7 PM again. Naps are not possible during the day. Carson is doing pretty good at sleeping 3 and almost 4 hours between most feedings (but not all), but Kate is still eating every hour and half to two hours. Essentially, Mark and I are just two ships passing in the night. I don't know how we are going to do this with no help. [I still haven't heard anything from my nanny ads.]

The nightmare moment of the day came at around 2 PM. Both of the twins were screaming and hungry, both had major poop in their diapers, Kate had partially removed her diaper so there was poop on the blanket and clothes, the phone was ringing non-stop, and I was about to pee in my own pants. N-I-G-H-T-M-A-R-E scenario! It was the only time throughout my first solo day that I thought I was going to lose my cool. This is also a fine example of why I don't want them on the same feeding schedule. I like having them 30-45 minutes apart.

Everyone keeps telling me things will start to get better. When? When does it start to get better? I don't even see my husband anymore. I am in a chronic state of exhaustion, and I don't like that I have to sleep from 7PM to midnight because that just isolates me further from my friends and family (no phone calls while I am sleeping). I never leave the house anymore. I need a light at the end of the tunnel...when will it start improving? When they are 3 months? 6 months?

To be honest, it's Kate that is wearing me down. She has to eat so frequently, she is hard to put back to bed, and it seems like there isn't a waking moment in which she is not screaming her head off (not crying, but screaming). I don't get cuddle time with her at all. She doesn't seem to want it. If she isn't sleeping then she is extremely hungry. When I was pregnant, she was the one I felt the most "bonded" to. She kicked me constantly and I could almost predict her moods in utero. Now that she is out, she doesn't want anything to do with me unless I have a bottle in my hand. Carson is just the opposite of all that. My family calls him "lover boy" because he loves to cuddle, hold hands, look at people and smile. Is it normal to feel distant from Kate? I keep telling my mom that I wish she would just so me a tiny amount of affection or seem to enjoy the affection I give her. It's the strangest thing, and sometimes (especially when I am up with her for the millionth time) it hurts my feelings. How crazy am I?

Cleaning House

I deleted my "It sucks being the Miranda" post because some people in my real life (ahem, actually it was just one person) can't handle reading about feelings on certain topic. Perhaps it hits a little too close to home for them, and more specifically they read into it what isn't there. [Ironically, the person it pissed off wasn't even the subject of that post.]

So, if you can't handle the reality of my situation and my feelings, don't read the blog. It's that simple. Most of the time lately, I feel that this blog is the only place for me to put down my thoughts and feelings while I am undergoing this major life change. I actually have to schedule in time during my day (or night) to post something on here, but I almost consider it therapy. I don't care if strangers read it or no one at all...I need a place that's just mine. Hardly anyone in my real life knows of this blog, and if they do find it...well...just be grateful I am not posting photos and names. :)

One of the best aspects of being so busy with infants is that you quickly learn how to prioritize what's important and what's not. It's been long overdue that I do some housecleaning (so to speak) in my life, and that's starting now.

Anyway, my mom is back in town, and the time apart was good. The babies are doing great and I actually managed to get in 3 hours of sleep last night. Carson did not have a "colic episode" last night, so now I am wondering if it was colic at all. Perhaps he just had an upset tummy for three nights in a row. Who knows.

We are having a get-together at our house this Saturday (my 30th birthday). It will be fun to show off the twins and see everyone. I wish our pool was warm enough to swim in, but that probably won't happen until late May.

I wasn't prepared for how hard this would be...

I'm falling apart. Today's highlights include:

• Sleeping for 2 hours over the past 24 hours.
• Carson having colic from 2 to 4 AM. Nothing I do seems to soothe his screaming.
• I got into a major fight with my bossy, nagging, controlling mother. That resulted in her crying most of the day and a household full of I'm-not-speaking-to-you tension. I want her gone. I love her, but there is room for only one Queen Bee in my house.
• Breaking down in the OB's lobby today. Crying and crying. Everyone looked at me like I was totally pathetic, and I didn't give a shit. Then right as the OB was going to see me, he had to walk across the street for an emergency delivery. So I left. I wasn't going to wait for him and that pissed off his nurses. I don't have 3 hours of my day to devote to waiting on anyone. I re-scheduled for Thursday morning. Oh, and my blood pressure was sky high. Looks like my pre-eclampsia is still around and a trip to a cardiologist is in my near future. Great.
• I'm still having trouble finding a good nanny service. Calls and emails don't get returned when I call and place inquires. Finding a good nanny who will allow me to get 4 hours of sleep per day may be the only thing that saves me physically and emotionally right now.
• And, finally, being married to a husband who never asks about my day. He came in from work and started yapping away about his crap. I listened and showed interest in his stuff. Then he spends the rest of the evening acting irritated with me...even on a day when I so obviously needed a hug. He never asked about my OB appointment or what was going on with my mom. I don't think I can be married to someone who can't at least ask, "How was your day?" He doesn't ask because he thinks I have a cushy life just napping all day and playing with cute babies.

When does your first period happen after a c-section? Either I am depressed (isn't it too late for PPD?) or I am experiencing the worst case of psychotic PMS on record. It's been 6 weeks since the birth, so I am wondering when the dreaded period will re-appear.

Rationalizing my irrational rants...

I strongly felt the need to post this...

I am not a psychopath! :) I am generally not a moody, emotional, angry person...even though my posts for the past month or so would indicate otherwise. I suppose I just vent out all my anger on my blog so I can put a smile on my face and go about another grueling day at the NICU.

In all honesty, I have a lot to be thankful for. Some of the babies in the NICU are really bad off. I don't know how those parents handle it. My babies are not sick or struggling. They were born too early, they are stable, and they are only there to grow a little bit more. We could be in a much more horrible situation.

Kate finally hit the 3 lbs mark today. Yippee! That's a big milestone for her. Carson is 2 oz short of hitting the 5 lbs mark, and he will probably make that this weekend. Neither were at all interested in bottle feeding again today. Grr! They take a few sucks and then they look at me in such a way that I would swear it had become a battle of wills. If it wasn't so irritating, it would be funny.

I had to call my OB again this afternoon and personally begged him to prescribe a drug they told me about in the NICU. It is to stimulate and promote milk production, and this is my final attempt at it. He called in the meds but did not give me a very big supply. I take it he doesn't have much faith in it, but I am desperate. (I hope he got a good laugh at my 'Oh please make them work. They have to be more than just decorative, right? I want to be a Jersey milking cow!' pleas.)

I don't know what the deal is with my boobs! It has become so frustrating because I am doing everything the I was told to do...drinking a ton of water, getting good sleep, and most importantly, I am pumping every 2-3 hours around the clock for 15 minutes each session. Frankly, it's a pain in the ass, but it would all be worth it if I was producing more than a tablespoon or so at every session.

I hate NICU life!

I am so ready to hijack the twins out of the hospital! I am getting a little frustrated that Mr. Carson isn't taking to the bottle like I want him to. That is what is keeping him in there. I know bottle feeding is a learned task and that he just needs to mature a little more. The nurses tell me that one day a light switch will go off in his head and he will feed like a champ...but that it could also be weeks away before that happens. The neo doc told me yesterday that he thinks Carson could stay in the hospital for another 2-3 weeks, and Kate will be in there much longer than that just because of the weight she still needs to gain. A week ago, he told me 2-3 weeks before one of them comes home, and now he is extending that time frame. I was torn between wanting to cry and wanting to hit him...him being the neo doc, not Carson.

Perhaps 2-3 weeks doesn't sound that long to someone who hasn't had babies in the ICU, but trust me...it's an eternity! This NICU experience has been one of the toughest things I've ever had to deal with. It is such an incredibly unnatural way to start motherhood.

And I am so sick of people telling me that this is a good thing because it allows me to recover from my c-section and get plenty of rest before they come home. Gimme a break! It's damn near impossible to "rest" when you have babies in the ICU. Also, I was recovered from my surgery before I was even discharged from the hospital. I don't need a month or two to bounce back from that. I am also sick of people calling the NICU my "expensive babysitters." That implies that I want them there.

I hate, hate, hate this! I feel like I am missing out on things. I go up to visit them and the first things the nurses tell me is Kate did this, Carson did that, etc.

I'm just frustrated and desperately missing my babies. I am ready for this chapter to be over with. Now.

Oh, and it hasn't escaped my notice that today is March 1st. Today was my big goal day. Today was the day I focused on throughout my entire pregnancy as the day I desperately needed to hold them in to. I still don't think I'm over the fact that they were born so early. I think as long as I am visiting them in the hospital I will always have it stuck in my head that they are there because they came so early.

The Power of Hormones...Bad Night @ NICU

I spoke too soon about the oxygen mask. We were so excited about going up to the NICU last night because we thought we would get to finally see Carson without all the masks and whatnot. When we got up there, they were still on him.

There was also a respiratory therapist from another local hospital filling in for the regular therapist that night. This woman was a bitch. There is no other nice, sugar-coated way to say it. I asked her about the mask situation and if it was coming off tonight, and she all but called me a liar when I mentioned the neo doc had said that morning it was coming off. She had a cold, piss-poor attitude and was extremely rude. Here's the thing...if Carson still needs help, then by all means keep the mask on and give him the help he still needs. BUT tread lightly when you start getting an attitude and calling a highly emotional NICU mother a liar.

Once she left the room, I did kangaroo time with Carson and Hubby held Kate. Then the emotions flooded to the surface. I started crying and I just couldn't stop. Part of it was the disappointment of the mask situation, part of it was my exhaustion (6 hours a day in a NICU is draining), part of it was the realization that this was our life now. I was just a mess. I feel like I've been so strong this week -- both physically and emotionally -- and constantly telling people the twins are doing great (which they are) that it all just caught up with me. The babies are doing great in the NICU. We have been incredibly lucky that our 32 week twins are having no major trouble at all. They had all the cards stacked against them, and they have proven all the docs and stats wrong so far. But, frankly, this sucks! I hate that it takes a team of nurses to hand Carson to me due to all of his wires. If you combined all of the wires I have in my home office -- 2 desktop computers, 2 laptops, fax/copier/printer machine, and phone -- it still wouldn't equal how many wires are connected to my son. After holding him for an hour, the plastic mask thing leaves an indention in my skin where his face had been resting. They are pinning his arms down now because he has pulled out his own feeding tube in his mouth twice now. He tugs and pushes on his mask...he obviously hates it too. Kate is making headway, but she is still so tiny. Sometimes she reminds me of a hairless baby bird in a nest...granted, she is a beautiful baby bird. It's just not the fantasy. It's not what I dreamed about for 8 months. I thought I would make my 36 week goal and would be able to leave the hospital with the twins. I thought a week after delivery I would be complaining about my lack of sleep due to all of the 3 AM feedings. I know we made the right decision to take them out at 32 weeks -- especially after the neo doc told us Kate wouldn't have survived another week in the womb -- but I still can't completely shake the lingering feeling of disappointment. Not in the twins (they are perfect), but in myself for not holding them in longer. Should I have put myself on bed rest sooner? Should I have not done so much shopping in the last few weeks? I could go on. Hubby hates it when I do this because he knows how much I gave up with ensure a successful pregnancy...including my own business.

Before I was released from the hospital last week, the nurses had told me watch out for a lot of emotions and possible depression. Carrying twins means I had an incredible amount of hormones running through me for 8 months and the stress of having babies in the NICU puts me at risk for depression. I don't think so. At least not right now. I think I just had a bad night, and I feel better this morning.

I feel slightly embarrassed I lost it at the NICU last night. It's the second time they've seen me cry, and I don't want them to label me as the basket case mom. If they do that then I'm worried they will be more cautious about what they tell me, and I want to know every little thing (good and bad).

Okay, I better start getting ready for my morning visit to the NICU. Hubby has returned to work today, so this is my first day back with my own car and a slightly normal schedule. Sorry for all the bitching and venting today, but that's why I have a blog. I just needed to get all that off my chest. NICU life is tough and I can't wait to get my babies home.

Get me outta here!

I am suffering from the worst case of cabin fever! First, we had ice and snow for most of this week. Now that Hubby is back at work, he is becoming so hardcore about me leaving the house for any reason at all. I have left the house once in the past week, and I really can't handle being stuck here anymore! Hubby is no longer hubby...he has transformed into a prison warden! Now that I am almost at 30 weeks, he is watching me like a hawk. So nervous about me doing any little thing. I know his intentions are good, but I NEED fresh air. I need to go for a drive. I need a change of scenery. Something. Anything.

Nightmare

It's currently 7 AM, and an hour ago I woke up for the most horrible nightmare of my life. I woke up sobbing and overwhelmed with a sense of fear. The dream, like all of my dreams, is patchy, but I wanted to write down what I could remember.

I was sitting in a wheelchair looking at my tiny daughter in the NICU. She was obviously very premature. She was in one of the clear plastic incubators and hooked up to every monitor and tube possible. The nurses had told us to talk to her and touch her because she was fighting for her life. So we did. Hubby was freaked out and speechless, so he just sort of stood there. He seemed scared to touch something so fragile and tiny. I had my hand stuck in the incubator with my daughter's hand wrapped around my finger. When I spoke to her, the monitors would indicate her heart rate going up. So she knew my voice. I just talked and talked to her. I told her the meaning of her name. It's a family name, and I wanted her to know she comes from a long line of strong women. I told her to fight and how much we loved her, etc. Anyway, her heart rate slowly started to go down until it flat-lined. She was gone. In the dream I just sobbed and sobbed. Refusing to let go of her hand. Then I woke up.

What made this dream even more upsetting to me is how it parallels the real life experience I had watching my Granny die last April. The major difference being that my Granny had lived a long, full life and was dying an old lady; my daughter was dying before she had even started her adventure. But the deaths were the same. When Granny was in the ICU, they encouraged us to talk to her because it increased her heart rate. I would sit for hours at her bedside, holding her hand, talking to her about everything under the sun with one eye on the heart monitor. When the decision was made by the family to remove her from life support, I was in the room. I held her hand and talked to her. Painfully watching her heart rate drop down to nothing, and then the horrible beep of the monitor as she flat-lined and was gone. It was the most traumatic event of my life.

It doesn't take an expert to interpret last night's dream. I fear losing one of my twins above all else. We are so close to the finish line, that it would just devastate me if something happened at this point. I don't understand why my son wasn't in the dream though. I assume he was doing great. Anyway, the dream was especially painful because it was like revisiting Granny's death all over again.

I don't fully know what my thoughts on the afterlife are...they seem to sway. But I've always thought that my Granny had something to do with my twins. After years and years of trying, we got pregnant with the twins less two and half months after she died. She was very much a part of the long, painful infertility journey. I would call her after every failed treatment, after every time my period would arrive. She knew how badly we wanted children. And then suddenly -- with no treatment, no Clomid, no medical/scientific assistance -- we got pregnant with two babies. I can't help but think she had something to do with it.

Anyway, my OB appointment is in about two hours, and never before have I needed to see my twins on ultrasound like I do today. Especially my daughter. I need reassurance that it was just my unconscious playing out my fears in the form of a dream. That it wasn't an omen or anything like that.

I can't turn off the faucet! Damn these hormones...

Alright, I don't know what has come over me in the last day, but I have been highly emotional again. I feel like I have just barely drifted through today without crying, and I wish I had a rational reason for it.

Like everything else, I assume it's the high pregnancy hormones. My boobs have been sore and hurting again, which is always an indication of an increase in hormone levels. I hope it is hormones or else I might be going insane.

I have been thinking a lot about the twins today. Day-dreaming about them and what the near future will be like. I wonder how long I will sustain that rose-colored day dream after a few sleepless night with crying infants. Oh but it doesn't matter...I just want to get them here healthy and perfect. I don't know how it is possible to love something you've never seen or held but only felt (literally), but it seems to be true for me.

When I was younger, I was always worried about what kind of mother I would be one day. Would I have that maternal instinct I had always heard about? Would I be affectionate and love them more than I love myself? I don't question those things anymore. I know the answer.

I feel like I already have a bond with my daughter. She is "Baby A"...the one closest to my cervix and the one constantly kicking and moving. I know her schedule. I know she is a chow-hound because she always gets active 30 minutes to an hour after I eat. I know that if I sit straight up for too long she will get uncomfortable and start kicking. When I tell Hubby about her movements, I refer to her by name.

I don't seem to have that with my son..."Baby B." According to all the ultrasounds, he is the larger baby and is located pretty high up (way above my bellybutton). I don't know why I don't feel him move as much given his size and how active he looks on the ultrasounds. On the rare occasion that I do feel movement above my bellybutton, I get incredibly happy.

I think I need to just retire to a long, hot shower. Get all these tears out of my system -- nothing like a good cry in the shower, eh? -- and try to get to sleep...even though I am not sleepy.

According to my twin countdown clock...63 days left until March 1st.

Restless Night Without Hubby

It's remarkable how comfortable we humans get to routine. Hubby has been out-of-town on business since Monday, and I have yet to get a good night's sleep since he has been gone. I remember when we first started living together -- 2 years before we got married -- I had such a hard time sleeping good with him there. Fast forward 5+ years and I toss and turn all night when he isn't there. Before I was pregnant, this wouldn't have been a big problem, but now I feel like a wreck if I don't get deep sleep. Anyway, he is returning on Friday morning and then my mom is coming in from Houston to spend Christmas with us since I can no longer travel.

Ugh, that reminds me...I MUST finish my Christmas shopping today. This has been such a lazy holiday season for me. My mom wants two car seat bases for her car for when the twins visit her, and the in-laws are just getting gift certificates. I feel guilty about my gift-buying this year, but I honestly can't physically shop like I used to. My feet and ankles swell, my lower back hurts, and my energy level is wiped out. But I still feel like 'Hey! I'm pregnant with twins!' isn't a good enough reason for all of this laziness.

Speaking of the pregnancy, I am currently 24 weeks and 5 days pregnant. On one hand I am proud to be so far along and grateful that these 24 weeks have essentially flown by, but then I am reminded that my ultimate goal is to hold these babies in until 36 weeks. That's another 12 weeks (or 3 months) to go!

Bullets of Randomness

* I feel horrible for the families of those missing Mt. Hood climbers, but isn't this the risk you take when you participate in extreme sports of this nature? I am rather amazed that with all of our modern technology we don't have some sort of tracking device that could be worn by climbers just in case they find themselves in such a situation.

* Justin Timberlake's SNL "Dick in a Box" skit has left me laughing for days now. I personally like how they went with a Color Me Bad look for the skit.

* Am I the only chick that doesn't think Matthew McConaughey is worthy of the title Sexiest Man Alive? The last time I think he looked good was a decade ago in "A Time to Kill." He looks awesome from the neck down, heading north he looks spent.

* I still have not done any Christmas shopping! I usually spend a lot of time looking and buying the perfect gifts for folks, but this year I am just physically not up for the task. I'm afraid this year will be all about gift certificates.

* I have 12 weeks or less left in my twin pregnancy. I will be so ready to pop them out by then. I am truly starting to get physically uncomfortable.

* I can't believe we have an Aggie running the war now.

* Last Saturday night, hubby and I went down to the campus and watched the Dallas Cowboys game at Posse East. (The Cowboys game was only being shown on the NFL network, and that's hard to find.) Posse East is a place we have been to a few times over the years, and it was hubby's law school hang-out back in the early 90s. What most struck me, however, is that today's college kids look so damn young! Perhaps this is a sign of the times for me. For more than a decade I would see college students and think they essentially look like me. That's not the case anymore. They look like babies...so fresh faced, so small, and so determined to look hip. My college years were spent in the immediate aftermath of the grunge era. When we hung out at our local dive, we literally just threw on what ever was clean. Anyway, time marches on and time waits for no one.

Caught with Live Boy

The old Huey Long quote was never more real. What's worse than being a congressman having wildly inappropriate instant message conversations with a teenage boy? Being on the House Caucus on Missing and Exploited Children. What's worse than that? Knowing a member of the House Caucus on Missing and Exploited Children was a pervert and doing nothing about it while holding town halls on how to keep children safe in cyberspace.

Rep. Mark Foley (R-FL) is just a pervert. Rep. Dennis Hastert is a slimebag for covering it up for a year.

Here's the link with the seedy IM chats

Week 13 update

Howdy, sorry for the absence. I guess I just have not had a lot to say lately.

The twins still appear to be doing well. Today I start week 13, and am a week into my second trimester. We had an appointment last week with a perinatal specialist (as recommended by my OB for all twin pregnancies), and we saw the babies again on ultrasound. They had gotten bigger, and we heard their heart beats for the first time. That was awesome...whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. We also saw them moved around, open/close their mouths, etc.

I hired a maid who is starting on Monday. I just physically can't do it anymore. The silly part is that I need to clean this weekend to get ready for the maid's visit. I know that makes no sense!

A few weekends ago, I went to Houston to visit my mom. We had a good time shopping for maternity clothes and baby clothes. It was a bit sad to think that will be our last mother/daughter weekend for a very long time.

Mom will be in town for part of next week and the weekend. She will be in town for business, and then staying longer to attend my two doctor appointments with me on Friday and Monday. Hubby will be out-of-town at a conference, and she wants to see the twins for herself on the ultrasound. She is amazed at the technology.

Yesterday, I got a facial and then has a minor breakdown. I cried and vented on hubby about how lonely I have been lately. I am not working. I am bored. I feel like I have be abandoned by friends I have had since junior high. I was upset that I never get to spend much time with hubby. It seems like we just see each other at dinner, and then that's it. Hell, I know my life isn't horrible...it was just the hormones speaking. I feel better today.

Venting More Fears

With parenthood looming just five short months away, I am beginning to realize just how much my life is going to change. I know that's a rather obvious statement, but it's sinking in. I mean REALLY sinking in now.

Hubby and I are a bit set in our ways. We like to sleep in on the weekends, we have our shows that we religiously watch, and the longer we are married the more boring we have become. I am used to just hopping in the car and going up to the store...or for a drive to relax...or any number of last minute things.

*sigh* I know what my real concern is...I have no idea how to care for a baby (let alone TWO). I was one of those kids that preferred listening in on adult conversations instead of playing with other kids. I am an only child. I did not babysit other children. I always feel slightly uncomfortable around young children. How do you talk to them? How do you play with them?

Everyone keeps telling me it will be different with my own children, and I will grow as a parent as the babies grow. I certainly hope that is true or else I am screwed.

Hubby has no fear. He is completely comfortable, excited and confident about this new journey. This baffles me since his experience level with children is about on par with my own. I can't tell if he is naive or just optimistic.

I wish I could get another ultrasound at my next doc appointment. I need to make sure they are both still there and growing at the correct rate. I really thought I would be bigger at this stage. Damnit, I need more confirmation.

8 Weeks & Terrified of Miscarriage

I know I have been horrible about blogging in the past month, but my whole world has been all about pregnancy since finding out on August 1st. I have been nervous about talking about the pregnancy publicly because, frankly, I am scared to death of miscarrying. I am still scared and I am not out of the woods yet.

[They say the highest risk of miscarriage is between weeks 7 - 11. I am 8 1/2 weeks pregnant, so I still have another month of worrying about this!]

Some days I feel pregnant (i.e., extreme fatigue, sore boobs, etc.) and other days (like today) I have no signs of pregnancy and I begin to worry. It is a total mind fuck. It took us three years to get this pregnancy, and I am just terrified of losing it.

I have my first appointment with my OB tomorrow morning. They make you wait until you are at least 8 weeks along before they will see you. They will do a complete physical, a Pap smear, and an ultrasound to see how things look. Hopefully they will also try to hear the heartbeat.

I just desperately need some evidence. Some proof. Some reassurance.

Hubby is going with me to the doc appointment. He has been great -- protective and sweet.

I will update tomorrow once I know what's going on. Wish me luck.

Sleep Denied

It's 2 AM and I can't sleep. I am exhausted, but I can't get my mind settled down enough to fall off to lala land. So, I thought I would hop on here and ramble out some more pointless crap.

To be honest, I have nothing remotely interesting going through my head. Let's see...I have essentially done everything possible not to actually work this week. I feel burned out. I am sick of drumming up business constantly. It's draining me both physically and financially. Of course, it's so liberating to be self-employed, to be my own boss, and all that other jazz...but this week I almost wish I had a "normal" job. The kind of job where I just show up and work is magically sitting on my desk. But then as soon as that thought pops into my head I am instantly reminded that a job like that means I would be working to make someone else richer, and there is something in my blood that prevents me from doing that. My mindset on this just adds to the question that has haunted me since I was a kid, 'How did I come from this family?' My mom lives in Houston and has spent the better part of 30 years as an executive for a large oil company. So, not only is she a corporate slave/whore but also works for the fattest of all fat cats...BIG OIL. Everyone in my family is either a corporate whore or a school teacher. I am the only one in business for myself in the whole bunch. If it wasn't for the fact that I look like a clone of my dad, I would swear I must have been adopted.

Ahh, now here is a stupid whiney topic for you...

I went and got a mani/pedi today. As much as I enjoy the end results, I feel so uncomfortable while having it done. I wish I could accurately explain why I feel so weird about it. My mom and friends think I am nuts. I hate sitting in that big vibrating (well, okay, the vibrating part is damn nice!) chair while some small, middle aged Asian woman tends to my feet. I feel like some pampered asshole. Some rich lazy bitch. And yes yes, I know they are doing a job and I am paying them for it, but I just can't shake that feeling. I felt the same way the one and only time I hired some people out of the Greensheets to work on the yard. My guilt is so bad that with both the nail folks and the yard folks I double paid them (tip = service)! And I KNOW that's crazy, but I can't help it. Fuck, am I really this much of a bleeding-heart liberal? What the hell is wrong with me? I need something done, they want to work to earn money. It's all economics, I know. To make the issue more fucked up, hubby thinks it has something to do with the fact that they are minorities. He pointed out the fact that I have no hesitation or "guilt" with barking orders at the 20-year old white college guys who clean our pool every Tuesday. Someone please psycho analyze this situation for me. Or at least tell me if I am a damn headcase!

Oh, yes, the Kinky thing. Hubby (and some folks from his firm) are going to a conference on education reform and school law issues on Saturday up in Round Rock. Kinky Friedman is a speaker and will be attending the luncheon as well. So hubby snagged me a ticket. I would love to bend his ear for a few minutes and get some clarifcation from him on some topics that he has been rather hazy on. Of course, I seriously doubt I will be able to do that, so I am hell-bent on at least getting a photo with him.

Well, I am off to make another attempt at sleep. Folks, send me some comments. I need feedback or else I am going to starting thinking I am just talking to myself. G'Night.

Fuck You, Mr. President!

Up until now, our crazy president and his ridiculous (and often irresponsible) policies had never directly affected me. Sure some of his shit has had an impact on my wallet, but it was never really personal until today.

Bush axed the Stem Cell Bill today! For the first time in his presidency, he used his constitutional veto power. It is asounding to me, that THIS would be the bill he would kill. A bill that could save the lives of countless folks or at the very least make them more comfortable. And his reasoning for it is simply absurd. Somehow he thinks a clump of cells destined to be destroyed in a fertility clinic is the same as slaughtering newborns.

Damnit, I am so pissed I can barely think straight.

As I have stated on here before, I am a diabetic. Stem Cell research directly impacts my life, my future quality of life and, perhaps, the length of my life. My dad dropped dead 7 months ago of diabetes at the age of 56. Every member of my family had diabetes as a contributing factor to their deaths -- whether young or old. Research showed that with the strides being made with stem cells, diabetes COULD HAVE likely had a cure in less than 10 years. With Bush killing the bill, however, all federal funding is gone and it will be much more difficult for it to continue on.

Seriously, who voted for this motherfucker? He seems to care far too much for lives that have not yet begun, but shits on the living humans here already....and this goes far beyond the people who would have benefited from the stem cell advances....we have a young generation of men and women who are fighting an unwinnable, unjustified war in Iraq (as the rest of the Middle East is crumbling around them as we speak)...I spent my childhood witnessing my dad trying to cope with his memories of fighting an unwinnable, unjustified war when he was a young man...that shit lasts a lifetime. Bush shit on (and continues to shit on) the people of New Orleans. I could go on and on. I guess I just still can't believe the majority of Americans actually elected this dumbass as our leader.

Grrrrr!!!!

*Deep breath*

I had lunch with an old friend from school at Chuy's. It was good. Talked politics and religion. I don't understand why Austinites LOVE Chuy's so damn much...it's okay, at best. I could name several other Mexican joints I would pick over Chuy's. Can someone explain this to me? Am I just not ordering the right stuff or what??

Oh, and me and hubby are meeting with Kinky on Saturday! I'm as giddy as a schoolgirl! Details later.