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When It’s Worth It, It’s Really Worth It

Today, I saw Althea learn to sit up all by herself.

She was on all fours. Then she slowly tilted her body toward the back left so that she sat on her left butt cheek. Then she teetered into an upright position and found herself happily sitting up.

All by herself.

Things are a little rocky right now. Sometimes I question why I’m not working full time. I question if the financial difficulties and the stress and the constant cleaning and cooking and feeding and rapidly deteriorating sense of self is really worth it.

And then I see Althea learn to do something for the first time, the very first time she does it, on the very day she learns to do it.

And I think, when it’s worth it, it’s really, really worth it.

Bitch, Bitch, Bitch

I’m having a tough time, guys.

I’m stressed, sad and tired. The latest events with our cats is wearing on me. Kramer developed a fever and I took him in to the vet. The way he has his jaw wired in place makes him drool and backwash everywhere, including into his food bowl. He drips and sprays slobbery cat food EVERYWHERE, including the walls, my hair and all over the floor. I spend a good portion of the day cleaning up fish stink and shielding myself from flying cat food.

I feed him meds through a tube in his neck. I’m pretty sure he’s blind in his right eye. The vets have all assured us we did the right thing, his quality of life will be great. They assure us. And the bills pile up. And the guilt, the guilt, the guilt of what I’ve done . . .

I picked up Vincent’s ashes. I sobbed like a child. Seeing his urn meant he was really dead. Really, really dead. Killed. We miss you, man.

(I felt a very strange and very unmistakable presence in the house today. Twice. Like someone walking by, behind me. Definitely a person. Kramer started meowing like Vincent. I wasn’t even drunk.)

We missed a mortgage payment and we’ll never make it up. We just won’t. We’ve never been late on a payment. I have perfect credit. Not so much anymore. Talking to the bank today didn’t help.

We still plan to buy a better camera and somehow, I only feel slightly guilty.

I’ve barely left the house in almost two weeks. I’m so tired that I don’t want to deal with anyone. I have a million things to do around the house and zero motivation or money to do them.

I’ve only exercised a couple of times in two weeks and I’m terrified to step on the scale. I just wanted to lose six lousy pounds by August and I can’t even do that.

I spent a good five hours in the kitchen today, cleaning and cooking and cooking and cleaning. Dishes. Making baby food. Cleaning cat food syringes. Cleaning stinky cat food bowls. Dishes. Cleaning up cat slobber. Spilling an entire can of Coke. Entertaining babies. Feeding. Cooking. Feeding.

Now that I’m staying home with the girls, I’ll never be able to go back to work. Being a SAHM is not legitimate. You don’t get a line for that on your resume. Just because it’s a 24/7 job, constantly on, never rest, only work work work. At this point, I couldn’t act smart enough to get a job anyway.

I wonder if my years-long battle with depression is finally creeping back after my pregnancy euphoria. Dammit. My old shrink doesn’t take our new insurance.

Not that I’ve checked.

I have bags under my eyes. The bags have bags. I feel like shit. I’m lonely. I’m a failure. I want to hide.

I need, need, need. I need help.

I have begun way too many sentences with “I” in this post. <–Stated with complete self-awareness.

Lesson of the evening: Don’t blog and bitch. Because man, that publish button is a bitch . . .

Pushing for VBACs in Florida!

Please consider donating to this extremely worthwhile cause. In Florida, freestanding birth centers aren’t allowed to do VBACs (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean). In other words, the state is telling ladies how and where they can have their babies!

Through midnight tonight, donations are being matched.

True-and-only-somewhat-related story: I went to a Mom’s Night Out with a bunch of other ladies last month. Out of the seven of us at the table, only two of us had vaginal deliveries, one of them being, of course, me — with twins! WTF!

Wow. Seriously? Part II

Aside from the dirty fridge, please tell me what’s wrong with this picture.

Oh well. Happy Father’s Day?

empty six pack

What’s So Funny?

What’s so funny? A couple of videos of the girls being ADORABLE, that’s what. In the second video, the first minute is riveting. After that, it’s just babies being cute, scooting, falling over, and my husband cursing at the end.

We’re Hoping to Go Viral With It

Seven Months (and One Day)

Due to recent events, I’m a day late in celebrating the girls’ 7 month-day.

For those not really interested in the fact that this blog essentially serves as an electronic baby book, then you can shove it check back soon for something more exciting. Here goes:

Eating

The girls nurse five to six times a day now. My milk supply seems to be doing better these days. Huge relief.

For solids, they each get about an ounce of fruit with 2 tablespoons of cereal in the morning, then about two ounces of vegetables plus half a tablespoon of cereal in the late afternoon.

I make most of their food at home, using fresh, organic fruits and veggies. (The girls definitely eat better than we do.) I’m really not sure how I feel about it. There are some foods that just aren’t worth it for me — they either cost more to make than the jarred stuff, or take way more effort than I feel like putting in.

Also, I don’t particularly enjoy the process. Between the shopping, washing/peeling, steaming, pureeing, straining and adding water, freezing, storage, and cleanup, it takes for-fucking-ever. It’s like, wow, carrots take two hours to make? It’s fucking carrots. They aren’t even seasoned. And with two babies, a lot of effort yields very little food in the end. You go through it twice as fast. I’ve been lusting after this Beaba baby food maker, but it’s $135. Sigh.

Tips for making it easier?

Milestones

Both girls have been rolling like crazy for months, but recently started rolling in both directions (they used to only roll to the left). Elise scoots using her left arm and right knee. Althea scoots a little bit, but she looks like she’d rather forgo the scooting in order to figure out crawling. Both girls love to get on all fours and rock back and forth. Althea even goes so far as to do downward dog. My little yogi.

Althea practices downward dog

Both girls also sit well unassisted, but they haven’t figured out how to get to a sitting-up position by themselves.

Other small things:

  • They hold on when being held
  • They’re starting to lift their arms up to be picked up
  • They love to bounce

The most amazing thing that’s emerging these days is the spontaneous laughter. They just look at you and start cracking up.

Even cooler, though, is that they’re finally starting to show interest in one another. They first noticed each other at three months old, but they didn’t really care about the other until the past week or so. Just this morning, some unfamiliar noises on the monitor stirred me out of my sleep. It was Elise and Althea, “talking” to each other and making each other laugh. I walked into their room and found them peeking at each other over their crib bumpers and busting up. It was as cute as it sounds.

Sleeping

Hallelujah, after the issue with my boobs (or perhaps a growth spurt mixed in with that), they’re back to sleeping from 8 p.m. to 7-ish a.m. They nap in the morning for about 45 minutes, then take a cat nap in the evening for another 45 minutes. They have one long nap at about 1 p.m.

Personalities

Althea continues to be the firecracker and Elise is the mellow joker. They both love to laugh, smile and flirt. They do have a bit of stranger anxiety, which first started at about five months. They seem most wary of people with dark hair and ladies with a lot of makeup, jewelry and big hair.

Talking and playing

Althea’s kept mum for quite some time. Just recently, she’s started more frequently with lots of vowel sounds. She also likes to purse her lips out, like a duck, and blow raspberries. Today, she discovered how to stick her tongue between her lips and make the “PBBBBBLLLL” fart sound.

Oddly, Elise’s favorite sound right now is the “th” sound. She does lots of vowels too, but has also moved on to consonants — g’s, d’s, p’s, b’s, some m’s and r sounds.

They still put everything in their mouths. They’re able to entertain themselves for good stretches of time, maybe 20 – 40 minutes.

Size

Wearing 6 – 9 month clothes and size 3 diapers. They’re about 15 1/2 pounds and over 26 inches long by now.

in dresses

in dresses

Elise eating Mum-Mums

Elise eating Mum-Mums

Althea eating Mum-Mums

Althea eating Mum-Mums

He Giveth

And he taketh away.

We just got a knock at the door at 10 p.m. A neighbor. How many cats did we have?

Kramer is alive and purring next to me on the couch. Vincent Van Gogh, the father of the rest of the kitties we have, is dead. Hit and killed by a car.

R.I.P.

0111062149

Thank You to All Who are Fans of My Boobs

To all who have expressed support, encouragement and/or sympathy for my boobs, I thank you.

Between the fenugreek, lactation cookies, Mother’s Milk tea, cutting back on caffeine, nursing more and stopping the pill . . .

Phew!

I think we’re going to make it. At least, I have to retain that faith that we will because yes, the stress does affect milk supply.

Several people, including some new posters to the site (thanks gals, and thanks to Mommy Melee, who uses social networking as a platform for entertainment as well as social responsibility and support), mentioned growth spurt. Well hell. I honestly hadn’t thought of that. At the same time, though, the fact that I’d run dry before a full minute of nursing makes me think it’s more a supply issue. The problem seems to be worse in the late afternoon and evenings, pointing to (I think) a big(ger)-than-usual hormonal shift during that time of day.

The girls slept through the night last night, thankfully. Perhaps things are improving a bit. Amazing how quickly you get spoiled with seven or eight consecutive hours of sleep.

I also spoke with my slightly crunchy and ultra chipper lactation consultant today. A positive attitude can sure rub off on a body. When my supply seems to be back up to what feels right, she recommended slowly weaning off the fenugreek first while keeping the tea and cookies. She also suggested I attend her breastfeeding support group on Friday (NOT La Leche League). She said I’d be a rock star, nursing twins.

Appeal to my sense of ego? Yes ma’am, I will be in attendance.

She sure can read me.

Now why doesn’t she recommend margaritas at noon?

So, final thoughts: “They,” as in mainstream doctors and drug information inserts, say that the mini pill does not affect your milk supply. I say nay. Every woman is different. I am endowed with a healthy enough dose of WTF to just say that I know what I know, and I know that artificial hormones are bound to do something whack to someone like me who is predisposed to whackness in my girl parts.

P.S. Why is “I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here” on my TV? And wow, Lou Diamond Phillips is still alive?

LOL Elise

Things have been so serious lately so, on a lighter note . . .