Ya win some - ya loose some

I have discovered Dunstan Baby Language and it has made such an overnight enormous difference!  Honestly, I think that all hospitals should hand out a copy of this DVD right along with the visit from the lactation consultant  as it is equally as important! The DVD "decodes" your baby's crys into 5 words.  I thought I really knew my daughters different cries, but it turns out that I was off on two of them.  Apparently, I've been feeding her when she was actually "telling" me she needs a good fart!!!! Then I was feeding her on top of an already aggravated tummy with a gas bubble and wondering why she was still fussy.  Way to go, Mom!  I also thought she had gas when she was telling me she was tired, so I was wearing the poor kid out with a whole lotta burping, when all she wanted was a nap!

The five words (crys) are:
hungry = nah/neh/nay ... or any cry with the "n" sound  (Quilla says Neh-GEE!)
tired = owh/aaw  (sounds a little like "ouch" or "owl")
burp me = eh
tummy ache/need to pass gas = (air)
uncomfortable (need to be held differently, too hot/cold, need diaper change) = heh (or any cry with "H" sound)

If you are a new Mom ... you MUST watch this DVD!  It's amazing.  The DVD has many examples of other babies making each cry/word so that you know what exactly what to listen for.  It also offers great solutions for each problem your baby my have.
Since I watched it, Quill has been spitting up a lot less because I'm getting the gas bubbles out of her (on her cue) before I feed her again.  It's nice to not wear quite so much baby barf the last couple days! I  feel that my daughter is happier in general as her needs are being met almost immediately now.  She is also waking up less (once!) in the night because she doesn't need anything except to be fed and a diaper change.
Last night I was so proud as I tucked my smiling baby back into bed after her 3/4am feed.  I decided to go into the kitchen a get a glass of water before tucking myself back in bed.  I was thinking how nice it is to get to go back to sleep so quickly .... when ....
I stepped in something warm, wet & squishy.
aaaaaaahhhh!  gross!
She nursed, burped, and went back to sleep.  She didn't barf up any milk this time ...... what could this be???
Dog Barf.

A couple days ago, instead of going to the pet store I normally go to for dog food, I ran over to Rite Aid (which is closer) and just picked up some other brand of food.  I wanted to get home to watch the new Dunstan Baby Language DVD!!!  Well, it seems I've solved my daughters tummy troubles, but created a new one for my little doggie!  Poor thing!  Guess I better stop blogging and get over to the pet store when Quilla wakes up to get some better dog food!
.... and just when I thought it was safe to go barefoot! geeeeeeez!

Parkathon

If you don’t give your kids something to do, they will find something to do and it will annoy you. I realize that Alex is always better if we leave the house by 9:30 am and the house stays clean if we stay out of it. So in order to stay sane while I was pregnant we started this thing I call “Parkathon”. We get up in the morning, get dressed, pack a whole lot of food and drinks and go to the parks. We became regulars at these parks, going around the same time. We’d meet Mom’s and kids, make some friends. It’s awesome. I highly recommend Parkathon to anyone with small kids. We go to a park at 10am where the day care kids play. We play, get bored, eat something, get in the car, change diapers and go to the next park. The next park has a bathroom and a whole bunch of stay at home moms with kids. We play, get bored, eat something, feed half the kids there, and go to the next park. We stop at McDonalds (I know it’s bad) to get a happy meal and we go to the next park. This park has the older kids with the stay at home moms (you can learn a lot from them). We eat the happy meal, play, usually have some sort of incident, and then head off to the final park. This park has a bathroom and horses! We change diapers, eat a snack, visit horses, play, and this is usually around the time that Alex will lay down in the middle of the play ground, drooling, panting, red faced, and begging to go home and take a nap. I’m usually able to get him to sleep for 3 hours while I have some “me time”.

Hell hath no fury like a 2 year old

I love my son. He's doing a great job at being two, but the screaming, the biting, the tantrums, the time outs ... and I'm just talking about me here. Seriously, 2 is really hard. I keep consoling myself with the thought that not all of my parenting will be contained in just one year. I get 18 years to raise him. It's just so hard. I read everything I can get my hands on. I take classes. I consult friends/family, and I pray often. It's got to be the most challenging, humiliating, humbling, and exacerbating experience of my life. Half the time I feel like I'm going nuts, and the other half I'm so proud. I wonder if there is something wrong with me, and then I wonder if there is something wrong with him. I love my astrology book- I looked up his sign ... it recommended getting a super strong playpen when he was born and then staying inside it until he was three. We had to go to the emergency room one night because he had a tantrum and wacked his head on his bed frame. He hit his head so hard - he had a bump, he threw up, he was tired, SO off we went to the ER. The doctor was hugely sympathetic. She put her arm around me and asked me if I was ok.
I sobbed.
She said "they are absolutely demonic sometimes." She assured me it was normal, and that I was a good mom.
I hope she wasn't lying.

The Morning After

I have 3 grades of coffee. Chai tea for the days "I'm quitting Caffeine" (the box has dust on it). Regular on sale coffee for most days and Starbucks eye opener blend for the OMG I haven't slept I feel psychotic mornings. Everyone should call their parents and thank them for giving them life and having the tenacity for keeping them alive...

To vaccinate or not to vaccinate .... that IS the question.

Quilla - 10 wks

The subject of vaccinations has become one of the most controversial issues for new parents.  It seems that nearly all pediatricians are great supporters of vaccines.  I found this out the hard way.  Just before Quilla was born I started seeking out a pediatrician.  My husband and I were escorted to the door in the middle of an interview with a doctor when we expressed our "being on the fence" about vaccinations.  HMMPH!!!

I believe the decision to vaccinate or not is one that should not be taken lightly whether you choose to vaccinate your child or not.  If you choose not to vaccinate, I would encourage some homeopathic prevention as opposed to doing nothing.

Today I finished reading "The Parents' Concise Guide to Childhood Vaccinations."  I would highly recommend this as  required reading for any new parent!  It was extremely informative and offered unbiased thorough explanations of the vaccines, the diseases they are meant to prevent, symptoms & complications of the diseases, treatments for the diseases, and the risks & side effects (if any) of the vaccines.  The book is short, sweet and to the point.  I read it in just two days, which says something considering my lack of personal downtime lately.
I learned some interesting details - like the fact that Quilla is immune to measles  for her first year of life because I had them as a child and would have passed my immunity to her while she was in utero.
hhmmmm .... very interesting.

Here are some links to some other literature I found very informative regarding vaccinations:
http://www.vaccinationcouncil.org/2011/02/06/a-few-things-i-know/

http://www.vaccinationnews.com/Books/Adverse_Reactions/Personal_Stories/personal_stories_of_vaccine_inju.htm

http://www.cdc.gov/vaccines/pubs/pinkbook/downloads/appendices/B/excipient-table-2.pdf

http://www.cdc.gov/vaccines/pubs/pinkbook/downloads/appendices/G/cases&deaths.pdf

http://www.vaclib.org/basic/unvaxhealth.htm

http://newswithviews.com/Renee/tocco101.htm

http://www.infowars.com/voluminous-research-proves-vaccines-are-deadly/

http://apps.who.int/immunization_monitoring/en/globalsummary/timeseries/tsincidencepol.htm

http://www.harpub.co.cc/

http://www.cdc.gov/ncidod/eid/vol6no5/pdf/srugo.pdf

http://www.naturalnews.com/022389.htmlhttp://www.newswithviews.com/Tenpenny/sherri128.htm

http://childhealthsafety.wordpress.com/2009/03/21/autism-rates-rocket/

http://childhealthsafety.wordpress.com/2009/07/06/gardasil-victims/

http://www.rense.com/general87/retired.htm

http://www.modernalternativemama.com/blog/2011/3/14/myths-about-non-vaccinating-parents.html

http://drtenpenny.com/default.aspx

http://www.ageofautism.com/2009/02/managing-editors-note-below-is-the-story-of-iam-gromowski-a-boy-who-lived-47-days-after-his-hepatitis-b-vaccination-thank.html

http://www.wiseupjournal.com/?p=937

From the land of milk... and what is that ... that is NOT honey!

I was taking a bath to calm my nerves and doctor my body. My little dog, Belly, sat by me and she looked extra forlorn. I patted her precious head and talked to her about nothing. I laughed to myself because her “tatas” were huge- much bigger than normal. She has been eating a lot of table food lately I mused. I reached out to pinch one to tease her about how fat she was getting, and milk squirted out! Not a little bit, a lot! She’s lactating! She’s got enough to feed a litter! How can this be? She’s not pregnant. She’s never been pregnant ... she doesn’t have cancer ... how can this be?
I hopped out of my bath, got dressed and paced the house. What do I do, who do I call, and what do I tell them? Should we go to the vet? My vet is almost an hour away; is it worth loading up the kids? How much will this cost? ugh… I checked her at least 2 more times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming this up. The kids were quiet enough, so I looked it up. I found out she had a false pregnancy and she was lactating. I had to check her for a fever and keep on eye on her to make sure she didn’t get mastitis. Ok, I can do this. After a few days she/they got bigger and hotter. If she could have talked I’m sure she would have said “Mommy, I will be there for you through thick and thin and I’ll even feed the little ones if you’d just give me a chance.” LOL! It looked painful. I tried ice. I tried hot baths. I considered a breast pump. I mused about lending her to a rescue with a litter in need. She was so uncomfortable. She lay on the couch, not moving, panting, dripping, and miserable. She still didn’t have a fever, but I couldn’t leave my best girl hanging. 
I did what had to be done.
She’s ok now. Milk dried up, no worse for the wear, and we are closer than ever!

Grilled Cheese

Today I discovered a half-eaten grilled cheese in my backseat. It wasn’t alone either, it had friends. Dried cranberries, animal crackers, freeze-dried strawberries, a sippy cup full of milk....it was like a buffet. In fact, if you enjoy day old milk and grilled cheese, it might have made a delightful little meal.

Last week my husband got in to my car and said, “I really think that we should try to set a good example for Luke and keep our cars clean.” I had some choice words. In his defense, he was admitting to his car being dirty as well. Is it Luke’s fault? I don’t think so. He is ushered around in my car 80% of the time yet Brian’s is equally as messy (albeit minus the grilled cheese). So who’s fault is this? Time - a parent’s worst enemy.

Could I have used the time spent typing this to clean out my car? Of course I could, but that really narrows the chances that the grilled cheese is going to grow a moldy face of Jesus. If that doesn’t happen then how am I going to sell it on eBay for enough money to buy a new car? Clearly that would be counterproductive. Plus, by leaving it in there I am setting a very important example for Luke - dream big kid!

You made your bed - now lay in it!

Someone once told to me "you should always make your bed cause it sets the tone for the day".
I wish I had heeded that advise today!!!

Last night my tiny 10 week old slept 6 1/2 hours!  Yippy!  I felt like a new woman!
Like a total junky, I was hooked on the feeling of energy, clarity and the momentary lack of my ever present dark circles under my eyes.  So, I got greedy.  When it came time for Quilla's nap, I decided to crawl back into our still unmade bed, nurse her, and snuggle up with her for a little nap myself!  SO eager was I to steal another 20 winks that I didn't realize that this was not "the nap".  This was Quilla's "prelude to a nap".   She nursed and then looked up at me with her hypnotising eyes and started cooing and laughing.  I joined in the game.  Then she started grunting pretty loudly, and we both laughed about it.  I find it absolutely hilarious to see a 13 pound bouncing baby get so serious about the effort put into filling up a diaper.  I am not, however, quite so tickled when the diaper in question has exploded all over my powder blue Egyptian cotton sheets!  It was like someone had emptied the contents of a jar of Grey Poupon  into my bed.  Then, to add insult to injury, as I scooped her up to head for the shower, she barfed  all over me and the silk duvet.

Freshly hosed off, she now sleeps peacefully in her swing where she normally takes her late morning nap.  Meanwhile, I'll be the well-rested Mommy kicking herself by the washing machine.

Amanda The Builder

When I got pregnant with Luke, I knew my interests were going to change. I knew that Grey Goose vs. Ketel One would be replaced with Huggies vs. Pampers, "should I go for a run?" would be replaced with "should I take a nap?", and poop would become very important. What I didn't see coming was the transformation from "beautiful painting is it Pissarro or Cezanne?" to "cool truck, is it a front hoe loader or a bulldozer?"

I wouldn't say I'm a girly girl, I played rough when I was little, partied my way through college, and have spent lots of time in my garden up to my elbows in dirt, but trucks? I'm starting from scratch with that one. However, what I lack in truck knowledge, I definitely make up for in truck enthusiasm. "Look Luke, look at that truck!!! (exaggeratedly pointing) Do you see it??? (jumping up and down) Look at the crane, it goes up and down, up and down, up and down!!!!" Oh. Man. It's not just trucks either, it's all of Luke's current obsessions, snowmen, Christmas lights, drums... And this weekend when we happened upon a Christmas parade in Palm Springs with trucks(!), covered with lights(!), with snowmen on top(!), followed by a marching band(!), my head almost exploded. Then I looked over at Luke and he was so excited that I cried.

So I guess my new interests are Luke, things that Luke likes, and spending time with Luke. Don't get me wrong, I still like hanging out with my friends, shopping, reading a good book, and cooking a nice meal, but watching your son get excited about something he really loves is just about the best thing in the world. Well that and the $25 sweater sale that I encountered this weekend at the Banana Republic Outlet, because some things never change.

The "Non-Plan" Plan

Mommy & tiny 15 minute old Quilla

When I was about 7 months pregnant, I asked my doctor "Should we start talking about the birth plan yet?"  She responded, "How about the NON-PLAN Plan? It's nice to have an idea about how you would like things to go, but we don't know how you, your body and/or your baby will handle labor."
It made sense.  How can I make a solid concrete plan for something that is so completely out of my control?  So, at 10pm on September 26, as I took the elevator to the third floor of Cedar Sinai Hospital, I gave myself over completely to destiny,  and I actually enjoyed the adventure of the next 16 hours that would lead to finally holding my daughter in my arms for the first time.

38 wks preggers

Last night Quilla woke up almost every hour to nurse.  By 6am I was beyond exhausted.  My husband, who now sees me as some sort of non-sleeping super hero, rolled over in bed and asked me "how do you do it?"  I thought about it for a second and then explained to him, "I know!  It's weird.  Functioning with this little sleep should turn me into a bear ... but regardless of how tired I am, I'm happy to wake up because our daughter needs me."  -and I meant it.

SHE NEEDS ME.  I have never had more purpose in my life than I do now.

So, I've decided that I will continue to be on the "non-plan" plan. I might sleep 2 hours tonight or I might sleep 6.  It might take me ten minutes to get to the grocery store or  2 hours because I have to pull over twice on the way to feed the baby.  I might fit in my old cloths by Christmas, but probably not because I shouldn't diet while breastfeeding.
.... and that's all OK!  cause I'm on the "non-plan" plan.

Blessed Cabin Fever

Quilla Soleil - 2 months old

Today was the first day we've had in a while without a scheduled appointment, activity, or plane to catch ... and  it was like a holiday ... or a lazy Sunday. We slept in, played, sang, danced, had 2  guests visit, napped, took a long walk, played some more, had an impromptu photo shoot for Quill in her super cute red tutu, made crepes for dinner while Quilla gurgled stories to her new Laugh & Learn Puppy, skyped with Aunt Jenn, Mommy took a shower, Quilla took a spa whirlpool bath ..... and then it was 7pm.
I was out of ideas.
So, I made some popcorn and we snuggled up together in bed to watch
"Santa Claus is Coming to Town" on ABC.  Crazy that a 2 month old can watch TV, but she does!  AND she seemed to really enjoy the show!  Afterwards, she nursed and then fell asleep for the night.

Gosh ... I even cooked dinner tonight with the same ease that I did prior to September 27, 2010!
Well, I'm not going to hold my breath, but after a day like today I think (maybe ... just maybe) we've started to get the hang of this new "Mommy and Me" schedule.

First haircut freak out

A few days ago I decided that it was time for Luke to get his first haircut. Well, decided isn’t quite the right word. My husband insisted I take him to get a haircut probably because he was starting to look homeless. So, weepingly I looked online for the perfect place for this rite of passage. I settled on First Cuts at the Promenade on the Peninsula. As I sat there sweating at the idea of Luke with scissors to his head, I wondered why I was so freaked out about this. I decided that my biggest fear was that it would make him look like a kid. Not just a toddler but a full blown KID. I wasn’t ready for this! Now it strikes me as a little bit funny that this would worry me. Other moms yes, but me? Me the mom who hated all baby clothes? Me who eschewed the color baby blue for the whole first year? Me the mom who dresses her toddler in skinny jeans and skate shoes?

Well maybe it didn’t quite fit but never the less, my heart was pounding as we walked in to the store. Would he look different? Would he still be blond or would his hair look darker? Would he still look like a little surfer dude? More importantly, is a person wearing Sketchers shape-ups going to be able to refrain from making my son look like a dork? I think I almost fainted.

So, how did it turn out? Well as my husband so frankly put it, “did you have to pay for that?”. Yes folks, a quarter of an inch of hair and ten year’s of his mother’s life are missing, but he looks exactly the same. Well, maybe a bit less homeless.

Mount Saint Quilla

For the Thanksgiving holiday, my husband and Quilla & I flew home to NYC to be with our family. It was, of course, the first time Quilla (8 weeks old) had traveled. We probably would've waited till she was a bit older to travel so far, but when she was born in September my Father had just come out of a two month coma. So, none of my family back east were able to fly out west to meet the newest addition to our family. I had promised that as soon as she and I were able, we would come to them instead.
I used to be quite the jet-setter, and would've packed for a week long trip back east in under 30 minutes. Well, let me just say ... packing with "baby on board" is NO joke! I started packing 2 days before the flight, and I am so glad I did! There is just SO much gear and stuff to remember, and my memory skills are not what they used to be pre-pregnancy! In fact, I think my memory is even worse now than when I was pregnant. I sometimes joke that my 2 month old is sucking out a few more IQ points every time she nurses. Anyway, it's a good thing I packed in advance because the one and ONLY thing I forgot to do the night before our flight was to set an alarm. My wake up call was my friend calling me from outside the house to tell us she was here to pick us up. OMG! We had 5 minutes to get ourselves and Quilla dressed and out the door. What a circus! While Raven jumped up and down on the luggage like a crazed gorilla trying to get the bags closed, I sang itsy bitsy spider in a very high pitched voice to keep Quilla laughing as I changed her in record time and got her dressed. In the meantime our two dogs barked at both of us and kept trying to jump inside any luggage that wasn't closed. By the time we got on the road I was a sweaty mess. Quilla was happy though! She seemed amused by the whole charade. I had pumped milk for her in preparation for the trip, so I fed her "breakfast" in the back seat on the way to LAX.
Sometimes I secretly wish I was part Inpsector Gadget so I could "go-go-gadget boobie!" and stick a breast in her mouth inside her car seat from where ever I am in the car. It would make life so much simpler these days!
Apparently, my child has some sort of magical powers. I have never in my life had such an easy time with airport checkin and security! We checked our bags curbside and went inside to get the elevator to our gate. There was a gentleman from our airline that took us to the front of the line at security. Another TSA officer carefully & quickly inspected my remaining 8 ounces of bottled breast milk and then asked if he could help me with anything else as I got Quill situated back in her stroller. After that we went to our gate to ask the woman at the counter if she could help organize better seats for us as my husband was going to be 4 rows away from us, and I preferred not to breastfeed in between strangers on the plane. The flight was over-booked, so my expectations were not high, but she promptly granted our wishes and seated us exactly where I asked her to. We were off to a fantastic start!
Prior to our trip, my brother-in-law gave me some good advise that proved to be very helpful. He said to sit over the wing of the plane as there is more white noise to help the baby sleep, and to feed her during take off and landing so that she is swallowing as it will help her ears to pop. Well, we sat in 27 A & B and my little eating machine NEVER turns down the breast, so eat she DID while taking off and landing!

You would think she traveled everyday since birth. She was an angel! Other passengers and the flight attendants all marveled at how cute, young and yet quiet & well-behaved she was! I was SO proud. She slept through the first 4 1/2 hours of flight. Then she woke, smiled and cooed at me to be fed. Half way through her feeding, I felt something warm on my stomach and then my legs. Oh NOOOOOO! Diaper explotion! She had peed and pooped all over her pale pink leotard, striped leg warmers, and ballerina slippers. It was as if her tiny tush had erupted all over 27A. I didn't want her "perfect little traveler" reputation marred, so I carefully wrapped her in her blanket so no one would see her soiled ruffles as I walked to the back of the plane to the WC with the changing table. Luckily, I had a change of clothing for her in the diaper bag. Sadly, I did NOT have a change of cloths for myself. I was now covered in poop, pee, and spit up from her feeding. I was wearing black though, so you couldn't see the damage. As long as no one stood downwind of me, I don't think anyone would be the wiser! Once she was freshly diapered and clothed, I walked back to my seat. Quilla's admirers whispered how darling her fresh new white outfit was. Her reputation in tact, we landed at JFK New York City.

Why so Grimm?

So, Ariel was watching Hannah Montana yesterday (yes, I know), and she asked the question.

Ariel: "Where is her mommy?".

Me: "Uh... she's dead."

Ariel: "Oh... that's so sad."

YES! Yes, it is sad! So why does almost every kids character have dead damn parents?? She asked the same about Harry Potter: "Where are Harry's parents?"... "Dead." Then, of course there's Cinderella, Snow White and The Little Mermaid- dead, dead, dead. I don't ever remember thinking about this stuff as a child!

Disney did base most of its movies on The Brothers Grimm stories which are, well... grim. And I know there's the whole, "there wouldn't be a story without the challenge for the character" thing, which is true in a sense but now, she randomly asks me if she can live with grandma and grandpa if we die, and if it's okay if she brings her bunk beds to their house. Gee, thanks!

At least she's a forward thinker!

Get In Ma Belly!

I survived! Getting out the door with 4 kids is one thing, but getting out the door trying to make everybody look at least halfway decent for Thanksgiving- nightmare!! First of all, nothing fits me. What are my options... dress, or leggings... or sweatpants. I feel like a stuffed sausage in most of my clothes, including dresses, and I refuse to buy new pants or jeans in my "new" size- I WILL fit into my favorite jeans again- I will, I will, I will! So, after digging through my closet, I settled on my uniform of late. leggings, boots, Spanx, tunic. Shower, hair, makeup- holy hell! Ever tried doing your mascara while holding a squirming baby? A baby who decides at just the right moment to reach out and grab the mascara wand, and then quickly sweep it across your eyebrow and into your hair? This happened when I was already 30 minutes behind schedule and none of the kids were even dressed, let alone had brushed teeth or hair. I finally told the girls to wear whatever they wanted, and they chose some outfits that I must say... really represented their hobo chic side.

Absolutely no creativity went into the babies outfits, I realized that, um... I was completely unprepared for their holiday wear. Isn't that what I'm supposed to get all excited about and prepare in advance for? New babies= fancy, adorable little outfits for Thanksgiving and Christmas that they wear only once. Yep, dropped that ball. As for the older girls... they looked kinda homeless. Their hair looked like a few pigeon families had chosen to nest in it. I completely gave up on shoes and Aurora even had red marker up and down her arms and legs. I realized then- mascara smeared across my face, gnarly-haired children, plain-dressed babies- that my efforts were futile. It was only Grandma and Grandpa's house. My mom- who used to wrap our Christmas gifts in NEWSPAPER- won't care that the kids are shoeless and dressed like they belong in a Tim Burton movie, and it was really only them and my grandparents this year because my sisters household got hit with the flu and my brother was with his fiance's family- what the hell was I so concerned about?? I should really just invest in muumuu's for such occasions- no need for Spanx, or faboosh shoes- I could eat the whole table and nobody would be the wiser! It would be so comfy and I've always secretly wanted a flamingo and palm leaf print muumuu for myself- I could totally rock the Mrs. Roper look! Why aren't they more popular??

Should Monte be worried?

Well, we got to their house a little late, but Grandma had it covered. She brushed hair and even had a stash of backup clothes for the gypsy children. Dinner was amazing- gotta love that Tofurkey- and the only thing missing was Monte. I wish he could have spent the holiday with us, but I'm getting pretty used to shlepping it alone at this point, I don't know if that's good or bad. A little of both, maybe.

Happy Tofurkey Day!

When I was a kid, we used to take camping trips in the desert with a large group of friends. We had a tradition of spending every Thanksgiving in Ocotillo Wells, where we'd dirt bike and explore for days. We'd set up a "table", made up all of our camping tables, in a long row that was probably about 50 feet long. It was a big yummy pot luck made by all of the mama's, and a good time was had by all, sometimes we'd even dress up like Indians! After dinner, all of us kids would play hide-and-go-seek in the dark desert. We'd hide under the motorhomes and behind bushes (hello snakes and scorpions??), and later, all of the dads would tell tall tales by the fire and we'd sing and play jokes. Us kids would climb trees and build forts by day, occasionally jumping on our dirt bikes and zipping off into the desert together- with no adults at, like, 7 years old??? It was great fun! I cherish these memories, and the friendships that I still hold dear to this day.

Ocotillo was just one of many trips that my family would take very year. We'd go to Yosemite in the Spring, Lake Mojave in the summer where we'd waterski, jetski and boat... Mammoth every winter to ski and snowboard, and every few years, we'd rent a houseboat with friends on Lake Powell. I can't imagine how much work went into these trips- the packing of clothes, food and essentials to take a trip with 3 kids (let alone 4!). It's a big friggin' deal! All I had to do was get into bed in our motorhome at 4am, when we'd leave for the trip, and I'd wake up to the smell of pancakes that my mom would be cooking in the kitchen while we drove. One of my favorite things to do would be to hang my head out the back window like a dog, and listen to music on my walkman. My dad would always drive. My mom wasn't allowed to drive the motorhome because as my dad would say, "If she sees one bunny rabbit in the road, she'll swerve, and kill us all!". My dad would stop at every plaque on the road and read about the history of every little thing- I'd roll my eyes and beg to stay in the motorhome- but, why??? Now, I get it. Sorry, Dad... teenagers can be such ungrateful little sh*theads! Before having kids, I never appreciated or thought about how much work my parents put into this stuff, not to mention the expense of it all, and my parents worked hard for it.

Married at 18, they saved every single penny they had, and working as a waitress and a machinist, bought their first home at 21. My mom started an in-home daycare and my dad became a sprinkler-fitter, and when I was 4, they put every penny into buying a house that was a big-time fixer-upper. Basically, the people they bought it from were in the middle of construction when they got a divorce. There were many holes in the walls and floors and my sister got so many flea bites that her school called CPS on my parents when she told them that "the bugs came from the big holes in the floor and bit me!". It was pretty torn up... but, now my dad owns his own company and that fixer-upper is their dream home. I barely remember those "hardships" as a kid- I just knew that I was always fed, and loved and didn't have a care in the world. Just as it should be.

I am grateful for my wonderful parents, and priceless childhood memories, and for my amazing husband and beautiful children. I look forward to the many adventures to come for our sweet family!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Holiday Cards

I started out my holiday card project with good intentions. I found a deal on Dealpop for half off of Tiny Prints. Well, if you’re a fan of the photo card, you probably know that Tiny Prints makes the cutest ones around. I thought, “Great, the cards will be cute, I’ll insert a photo, order them in ten minutes, people will be amazed.” FOUR hours later, I was still tweaking the card. I had uploaded a total of twenty photos of four images and saved six different card projects. That means that there were five versions of the four photos I had chosen, each with a very subtle difference. Blurred edges, vintage look, color fade, cropping, my tiny once a year project had spiraled out of control. Close to midnight I took the crazy up a notch. I emailed the “chosen one” to my photographer friend to see if she could remove the Paul Frank monkey from my son’s shirt because it wasn’t meshing with the vintage background that I chose.

Why is this so important? Well, of course, it’s not. Why does it make me crazy? I blame that on being a stay at home mom. Let’s be honest, I live in a bubble. I don’t have much going on. We go on outings, I arrange play dates, and I cook dinner. There are no spreadsheets, deadlines, or office politics...just holiday cards. Stay at home moms don’t get a pat on the back by their boss. They don’t get promotions or bonuses. Nobody comes in to my house and praises my sparkling clean counter tops or my beautifully folded piles of laundry and that’s fine. It’s what I signed up for and a fair trade in my opinion. However, sometimes it feels nice to have a little recognition for a job well done (from someone other than my husband). So I obsess about my holiday cards. I think that Holiday Card #6 is a winner and hopefully my friends and family will agree and let me know. In the meantime, I’m giving myself a pat on the back

Could you please hold that door for me Sir?

I’m not a jerk, at least I don’t think I am. I smile and say “hi” to strangers, I coo at babies, and I always pick out thoughtful presents. So I’m not sure how this happened exactly but somewhere between struggling to open doors and dodging dirty looks (tantrum, anyone?), I became quite the connoisseur of passive aggressive comments.

While my son weighs in at a whopping 26 pounds, he packs quite the punch. Who would dare spar with a woman that has a toddler in tow? With him at my side I am virtually invincible. “Wow, that’s very thoughtful” I say to the woman in line at the bathroom as she casually slips in to the only handicapped stall, leaving my stroller and me in the dust. “It’s hard to ride a bike in the dark? It’s also hard to walk in the dark apparently” I quip to the woman who has just battled for sidewalk space with my five year old niece and her bike.

I would like to hope that parenting has primarily changed me for the better. I am definitely more compassionate and aware of people’s daily struggles. You never know what challenges another person has or whether they are just having an “off” day. At least that’s how it goes in my head. What comes out of my mouth is “could you please (exaggerated eye roll) open the door for me? Uh, thanks (in a curt tone).”

Yes, some day my son will understand my comments and I will have to grow up and learn to behave like an adult. Until then....watch your back. You’re one stolen bathroom away from a very passive aggressive comment.

Midnight Boobie Gymnastics!

I used to be able to tandem nurse the babies with my twin nursing pillow, but now they hate it so, I have to do one at a time. It's really FUN when they both wake up at the same time in the middle of the night. The last few nights, they both decided to wake up at 3am. Both of them. At the same. Damn. Time. Because we co-sleep, normally I'll just nurse whoever is awake, while lying down, and we can both fall back asleep pretty quickly while he/she eats. But when it's both of them, I can't use the pillow like I used to, so I try a few different methods and just use the one that makes them the least pissed off. Stacking them one on top of the other has worked in the past, but not anymore because they're getting so heavy that they smoosh each other, so my only other option (that I frantically attempt in the darkness) is to side-lie and nurse one, and then drape the other over the side of my body and just focus on making sure their noses aren't smooshed into my boobs, so they can at least breathe. Not the most comfortable of things in the world to do, but it works. Both babies fall asleep, and eventually, I can too! It's midnight Boobie gymnastics!

Apples, Peaches, Pumpkin Pie!

In my family, we usually have a choice of apple OR pumpkin pie for dessert after Thanksgiving Dinner.  I always have pumpkin pie for dessert, and I save a piece of apple pie to heat up for breakfast the next morning.  Sometimes the apple pie calls to me in the night, and I am forced from my bed to stumble around in the dark for a fork at 3am on Black Friday.  I remember once, when I was a kid, being caught by my Father with my head stuck in the refridgerater as I was testing the pie for "quality assurace" in the middle of the night. Even now, as I write, I am beginning to salivate just thinking about the buttery baked apples and flakey crust melting on my tongue.
In the spirit of giving ... I would like to share my apple pie recipe.  It is a family recipe that I believe to be complete culinary perfection.

APPLE PIE

Preheat oven to 425


For the crust:

MIX the following until "pebbly"-
2  1/4  cups flour
1 cup butter flavor Crisco
2 tablespoons white granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt

then ADD
1/4 cup COLD water
1/2 tablespoon white distilled vinegar
mix into a ball.  Do not over mix, cut dough in half to make two balls.
Roll out one ball of dough and place it in pie pan.  Roll out second ball and save for the pie "lid".

For the filling:
12 Macintosh apples (peeled, cored and sliced) ... ONLY Macintosh will do.

in separate bowl MIX:
3/4 cup white granulated sugar
1/4 cup flour
1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon
dash of salt
then mix together with apple slices

Assemble pie:
Put apple mixture into prepared pie shell.  Then chop up 2 tablespoons of butter and "sprinkle" on top of apples.  Place pie crust "lid" on pie. cut some tiny air vents in the crust with a knife.  Put aluminum foil around the edges (only) of pie crust to prevent burning.  Place in oven and bake for 1 hour.  You know it's surely done when you can see bits of the filling bubbling through the "air vents" of the pie crust top.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!!

Does it count???

OMG! Quilla rolled over! ... in her sleep though.

Does that count?
I know it's probably way too early ... but she IS really strong.

Much to the surprise of our pediatrician, she started holding her head up on her own at only 2 weeks and started smiling "on purpose" at three weeks.

Is it possible that at only 7w 3d she can roll over?

She did "cook" for almost 42 weeks .... maybe it makes a difference?

hmmmm.....

Downtown Girls

If my boobs could talk, they’d probably tell me they were going to start regulating show times and charging me.  Yup- you guessed it.  I had to whip them out in public again.

Today’s agenda was a trip downtown to the textile district.  In order to save a whole bunch of money on the very extravagant drapes and crib bedding I wanted for the nursery, I ordered the fabric wholesale from Italy and found a guy downtown to make them for me.  I felt brave enough to head downtown alone with Quilla to pick them up today. The last few days she has been taking these long afternoon naps, so when she fell asleep this afternoon, I quickly packed her up in her car seat and jumped in the car.  She slept the whole way to the shop, and she never even flinched as I fastened her car seat onto its stroller base in the parking lot. 

I was so excited to see the finished product.  I had forgotten how beautiful the fabrics I had chosen were as I examined the silk drapes.  Then I realized that the ties on the bumper for the crib had been sewn on the wrong side.  As if she could somehow sense my disappointment, Quilla woke and started to cry.  As her cry escalated, the shop owner tried to explain even louder why he thought that the ties should go where he had sewn them.  If I could have heard him at all, I probably would’ve been annoyed, but all I could hear was my daughter who wanted to be fed, and all I could think was “how fast can I get my boob out?”  

I picked Quilla up, found a chair and a quiet corner, and sat down to feed her.  I faced the wall to try and be as discreet as possible.  It’s so strange to me how breastfeeding freaks some people out.  I’m convinced that the same people who can’t so much as look in my direction and talk to me at the same time while I’m breastfeeding are the same people that go home and order Girls Gone Wild on PayPer View.  It’s so backward! 

Anyway … so, there I was- downtown, hiding amongst spools of fabric as patrons reached around me for trim, tassels and fringe while I alternated which boob I would terrorize someone with next.  It was hot, and I could feel beads of sweat starting to trickle down my back when suddenly I felt something moist on my hand. Apparently, Quilla needed to be fed AND changed.  There was no hiding the poop explosion that had just claimed her new white ruffled skirt.  Crap! …. Literally.
After I finished feeding her, I covered the poopie part of her skirt with her blanket, and asked the shop owner if I could use their restroom.  I grabbed her diaper bag and headed into the tiny 4 x 4 closet that housed the commode and a tiny pedestal sink.  I laid a plastic trash bag on the uneven floor and her diaper-changing pad on top of it.  Quilla didn’t seem to mind as I assured her that “it’s OK honey” and crouched down on the concrete in the dim light to change her.  It was even hotter in the unventilated bathroom than it was out in the shop, and I noticed my face was all red & sweaty as I juggled the baby and washed my hands.  I hoped Quilla didn’t feel as miserable as I did in that moment, or surely she would not be happy for the ride home.  I quickly gathered up the drapes and crib bedding, and hurried to the car before something else happened. 

She fell asleep on the way home!

… thank goodness-

I’m exhausted!

TWIIIIINNNSSS!!!!!!!!!

I've been doing some Christmas shopping for the kids over the last few days while the girls are at Grandma's house. Yesterday, I went to Toys R Us, and, today, I totally scored at the Mattel Headquarters store! I've gotten pretty good about toting the twins around when I'm out and about, but there's no way to stay low-key with twins, and, everywhere I go, somebody has to make a comment.

"Wow, you've got your hands full!" is #1, and as much as I want to say "Yeah, no sh*t!", I usually just smile and say "Yup, I sure do!", little do they know that this is only half of my kids, but I leave that part out so they don't comment further, or give me looks of pity (which is not uncommon). If I'm out with all four and they see the twins, I'll hear "Looks like you went for #3 and got a big surprise, eh?", or some other version of that. The one that I'm most surprised by is, "Are they natural or did you do fertility treatments?" or if I mention what a surprise the babies were, they'll say "Oh, you mean you didn't do IVF?"- not that there's anything wrong with fertility treatments, I just can't believe how bold people can be to a stranger, and I also don't see why it matters? Then there's "Do they run in yours or your husbands family?" and I say "No, they don't run in my family, they do in my husbands though, but it doesn't make a difference because it has nothing to do with the sperm, it's all about how many eggs you drop." They usually look at me a little taken aback, having just been given a somewhat graphic biology lesson by a total stranger, and I think, hmmm... maybe that was TMI? But, it is a common misconception that I want to clear up, it sure shuts them up, and they then seem more than eager to get away from the nutjob, so, I use it a lot... with a smile.

I also get, "Are they boy/girl?" Me, "Yes.", then they ask "Oh, are they identical?". Really?? They're a boy and a girl and they clearly look nothing alike, hello- Mcfly! But, I know some people just don't know. Honestly, I'm kind of a hypocrite for even getting annoyed, because, I'd probably asked that question before having twins. I've had many a blonde moment in my life, and I also know that people are just trying to be nice and start a conversation because they're curious about the twins. It turns out that people are completely fascinated by twins. I had no idea before having them, that this is how it is, and, it happens to all moms of multiples- who knew??

Then, there's the "OMG! OMG! TWIIIINNSSSSSSSS!!!!!!! I WANT TWIIIIINNNSSS!!!!!". This one cracks me up, because I used to be one of these people. I totally wanted twins, but thought I'd surely never have them, so it was more like a "Oh, that'd be cool, but it will never happen." kind of thing. So, I tell these girls (because they're often, like, 17 year olds saying this to me) "I used to say that... and I'd say it again because it IS awesome." and for the teenagers I'll add "But, it's a lot of work, so, wait about 10 years before you have kids." My little PSA for the day.

It really is awesome. That's what I want to say to the people who give me those looks of pity and say "Oh, you poor thing." Really. People say this to me. Sometimes I don't want to give them the pleasure of sounding overly defensive and/or I don't have time to really get into it, so I ignore them. But, if I'm in the mood to set them straight, I ask "Why do you say that?", so they feel uncomfortable for being so rude. Then, they usually mumble something about how hard it must be and walk away. My favorite reaction to my family is when somebody says to me "What a blessing!". Now, I'm about as far from religious as you can get, but that makes me smile, and I usually respond with "Thank you, they really are a blessing!".

When I was at Toys R Us, yesterday, a woman came up to me and started shrieking "OMG- TWIIIINNNSSSS! I WANT TWINS!!! You've got your hands full! Are they identical? Do they run in your family? Did you use IVF?? You poor thing!" I was so shocked that I couldn't think of anything to say- I'm sure my face was priceless. She gave it a moment, then started laughing and said "Sorry, I'm totally kidding. I have twins and I've always wanted to do that to somebody else!". Brilliant! We both had a good laugh and then went about our shopping.

I really should just pass out cards that say:

Yes, I'm aware that I've got my hands full.

They are fraternal boy/girl twins.

No, they don't run in my family,

No, I didn't use fertility treatments,

and, I love my big family.

Pillow Talk

Quilla becomes more delightful with every day.  I can’t believe how fast she is growing!  Now that she is 7 weeks old, she sleeps and eats more regularly, and she is full of smiles for me all the time. 

When she was about 3 weeks old, I had feared she may be a colicky baby.  She was fussy in general most of the time and then from approximately 5pm to 8pm she was nearly inconsolable.  She hardly slept and wanted to eat almost every hour.  Then she would eat too much and would have terrible gas & hiccups, and I would spend hours wearing a path in the floor of my hallway as I bounced & burped her over and over.  What happened to the 3 to 4 hour sleep cycles and then nursing I heard/read about??? I was totally stressed, sleep deprived, and I thought my nipples were literally going to fall off.  I hated that she was always upset and/or in pain, and I felt like a total failure as a mother. 

My husband would be the first to tell you that when I am tired, I can be very cranky.

It finally dawned on me: “if I am sleep deprived, she must be too.”  A friend of mine had given me a book called “Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child” by Marc Weissbluth M.D.  I started to tear through it searching for answers … and got them. 

It turns out that I was unintentionally sleep depriving my baby.  Every time she would “seem” to be waking up (day or night) I would pick her up.  I didn’t realize that if I waited 5 seconds longer, she would doze back off into a deep sleep.  Babies apparently have very short REM sleep cycles, and I was waking her prematurely.

This is what I discovered:  She was cranky because she was tired, so she would cry. Crying would cause her to swallow air, which would cause her to get gas which would make her cry some more. Then she wanted to nurse (too much) to sooth herself which would give her more of a tummy ache, and then she would be so upset that she couldn’t fall asleep….. and the vicious cycle would go on. 

Quilla wasn’t colicky. She was tired! It totally made sense! 

I started making a very conscience effort to make sure she napped more during the day, and that my husband and I didn’t pick her up until she was TOTALLY awake. 

Quilla is a completely different baby now.  She sleeps and eats in 3 – 5 hour cycles at night and takes nice 2 – 3 hour naps during the day.  She has pretty much stopped cluster feeding in the afternoons and early evenings now, and she is rarely fussy.  When she is awake, she is usually full of smiles, and we have such a great time together!

I guess the old wives tale is true: NEVER wake a sleeping baby.

Much Ado...

Upon waking, yesterday, I knew that today, I must:

A. Take a shower.

B. Do my hair because I had gone too many weeks looking like a (the) minivan mom (that I am).

C. Go to Trader Joe's because we are ridiculously low on food.

Tasks that would seem simple to most, but for me, are monumental- and I was determined to succeed!

Before I got to shower, there were basic things around the house that I needed to at least attempt to accomplish. Dishes and laundry are the least favorite of my domestic chores and avoid them like a pool party... so, I wasn't exactly disappointed when the babies woke up from their morning nap in the middle of all that pleasantness. Oh, darn!

I got the babies changed and the kids fed and they all seemed pretty content... so, I thought it was an opportune time to jump in the shower. I normally take lightning-speed, 3 minute showers, but, today I was going to wash my hair of the crusted spit-up it was sporting- so, this shower could possibly take as long as 6 whole minutes! I placed the babies in their Jumperoo entertainment center contraption thingies, the girls seemed content playing with their Barbie's nearby and I asked them "could you please make the babies happy if they fuss while I'm in the shower?", they nodded their heads yes and I thought surely I had just bought myself 10 minutes. Shower time!

I sudsed and scrubbed and was covered in soap and bubbles, enjoying the quiet, when just one minute in... dun dun dun... could it be? Could all four kids be screaming and crying at the same time?! I turned off the water to listen and monitor the level of seriousness. Okay, Bea was quiet, the girls were obviously fighting, and... Atticus sounded almost happy? I think he was actually shrieking in delight! The girls screams began to escalate, so I hopped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, but still managed to trail water down the hall and through the living room. The girls each were white knuckling opposite ends of the same Barbie. "Who had it first?!" I barked at them, "I did!!" They screamed simultaneously. Oh, for Pete's sake. I confiscated the Barbie, stashed it in a high, out of reach cupboard and sent the girls to opposite corners for well deserved time-outs- all while sopping wet, soapy and wrapped in a towel- I then swiftly returned to the still running shower. At this point, enjoying a quiet moment was not an option- rinsing was my goal and rinse I did, but not soon enough. I heard a loud thud in the hall and knew immediately what had happened. Damn it. I didn't wipe up the water in the hall and Aurora had slipped in it and fell. She was now screaming and both Beatrix Atticus picked that moment to start crying, as well. Yes! Pile it on, kids!

After my pathetic attempt at a shower, I made lunch for the girls, while rotating the babies between different contraptions.. I asked the girls if they could sing to the babies while I made their sandwiches, which they did for about 30 seconds. Then, the babies started to fuss (gee, thanks for the help, kids) and it was clear that their big sisters had vanished from the room... and then the house suddenly got quiet... too quiet... and that's when it's time to worry. So, I stopped what I was doing and went to look for them. I could see them both standing very still in the backyard, looking down at something on the grass. Ariel had her hands over her mouth and both had their eyes open wide... "What are you girls looking at?" I asked. Ariel answered "Mom! Token is eating a rat and you can see it's guts!" Aurora added "Yeah, and there's so much blood!". Great. Now I get to clean up shredded rat remains before somebody steps in them... oh, and bathing Token, the devil cat, should probably be put on that list, too.

I knew it wouldn't be easy to maneuver Trader Joe's with the kids, but, why do I always underestimate the difficulty of just getting everybody out of the actual house to go there?? There was no time or energy left for that, nor for the doing-of-hair. There was only time for mommy to take a much needed nap, yes, a na- oh, wait... never mind... well, I got a shower and the cat got a bath. That's impressive. We can eat mac and cheese.