Month: January 2018

My story begins, likely not much different than most.

This morning after four nights of no sleep – thank you four month sleep regression – I jumped out of bed, a little fuzzy from a tad too much wine last night (and maybe from the martinis the night before…).

Today I have things to do!

Work on this blog I decided HAS to happen now. Create the website. Brand myself. Also finish the apartment – my new West Elm table and bench are coming today! I have a call with a journalist about my infertility journey. I have another call with a coach to help me figure out this whole new me!

Both babies were crying. But they could wait. They’d been fed. They’d been changed. They’d been burped. They have no reason to need me right now.

Made the coffee. Grabbed the water. Toasted the Trader Joe’s pop tarts because they’re just so damn good.

Sat at the computer.

Got to work.

And then I looked at my babies faces. They were staring at me. Their little blue eyes and teeny tiny faces peering up.

I realized today is the 25th of January. This means I’m back to work in a month.

One month.

I’ve been with them for four. Where did the time go? What was I doing? How did it happen so fast? Was I present? Did I give them my undivided time? Did I nurture enough? Give enough of me?

The answers don’t actually matter, and in fact bring up so many more questions.

What matters is. I have one month left with them.

So I scooped them both up. One in each arm. Tucked carefully in.

And we climbed back to bed. Jory on my left. Marley on my right.

They both fell asleep instantly.

I canceled the 10:30 call.

There was just a knock at the door, I didn’t answer.

Everything and everyone can wait. These babies need me. And I need them.

If you need me, I’m sorry but for the moment there’s a proverbial sign on my door.

Do Not Disturb.

Last night, before reading Pete the Cat for the 37th time, I read the author’s note.

“Always be honest. Give more than you take. And follow your dreams.”

I try to do all of these.

I fail at some of them.

And could be better at all.

Today is a new day and I vow to excel at each and every one.

What’s your #mondaymantra?

I missed the 4 month mark by a long shot.

But bear with me here.

A year ago today, the day started like any other. I suppose it ended like any other as well.

Having a real moment.

I so appreciate all the love I’ve gotten on Social Media. People just love twins. And I’ve been insanely lucky that all of my babies have been good babies and it’s really been manageable.

But today has been awful. I have a migraine. Haven’t slept in three nights. Babies aren’t napping during the day. I was sure they were 12w today. No they’re 13w. 3 months actually.

I do not have a cute picture of them dressed well with their respective stuffed animals. I have this picture of me. Un-showered. Teeth definitely un-brushed. Pumping for the first time today at 4:30.

Miserable by all accounts.

With the good comes the bad. With the wonderful comes the awful.

Just wanted to reality check for a second. Now I have to go back to shutting one eye because the light is too bright.

Officially on track to being a Jewish mother:

Me: Harper, did you sleep well last night?

Harper: No.

Me: No? Why?

Harper: Crying.

Me: You cried?

Harper: Yes.

Me: Why?

Harper: Mommy.

Me: You missed Mommy?

Harper: Yes. (puppy dog eyes and pouts).

PS – she did not cry last night.

2 years ago I became a mom.

A role that hadn’t crossed my mind until I met Nathan.

From that moment on, absolutely everything shifted. Priories. Ideals. Life. Love.

Since then a lot has changed.

Body. Mind. Soul…Bank account.

It’s not easy.

I’m thankful for my village. My family. My friends.

I’m blessed with new friends from this part of my life. Friends I share a different piece of me with, than any other kind of friendship.

The things I care about now are different. I feel more passion now than I have before.

I love this life and everything it comes with.

I’m grateful for a husband who shares all the responsibilities – if not(significantly)more.

The late nights. The early mornings. The dishes. The messes. The tiffs. The diapers. The extra weight. All taken in stride.

It’s all worth it for this kind of Love.

I just wish I could win the lottery to pay for all these damn kids.

Excuse me for a moment, while I wear my heart on my sleeve, as it were.

Before I ask you to humor me – I want to acknowledge those of you who struggle every day with this journey. I know it can be isolating. Challenging. Depressing. I am sorry if my posts add any sadness to an already trying time. It’s never an intention. I wish for you what I’ve been able to experience.

This child has brought a light to our lives that we didn’t know could shine so bright. She is hilarious, kind, gracious, sweet, super smart (potty trained!!) and makes even the hardest man smile.

Bringing new babies home, I’m certain, in all circumstances is scary. You feel guilty, you question – but this child made it so easy. She loves her brother and sister with a kind of love that I never knew existed.

She makes our hearts full every morning and every night.

Happy 2nd birthday, my sweet one. This world – is impossibly better with you in it.

I’m in real trouble. I was outsmarted by a 2 year old.

Back story:

We had a holiday party with the in laws last week. All adults got all kids small gifts.

Harper’s Aunt Kimberly & Uncle Evan got her stickers as part of her gift.

Present:

I saw those stickers sitting on our mail table.

Harper pooped in the potty and she wanted a cookie. We walked by the mail table and I said, Harper – instead of a cookie I got you something even more special than a cookie. I got you STICKERS (grabbed and handed them to her)!

She looked at them. Looked at me, looked at them and said: from Evan.

Damnnnnn. Like I said. I’m. In. Trouble.

About last night…

Actually, let’s start 48 hours ago.

Generally we’re up from 11:30-12:15 and 3:00-3:45 and 5:15-6:00. Ish. We expect this. What we don’t expect is to wake up in between to a shit explosion from the dog. Poop. Diarrhea all over her pad. Awesome. Something else to deal with in the middle of the night – on top of the cat peeing on our bath mat.

In an exhausted haze in the morning we got Harper ready. Then we hear “lucky” (yucky) – she stepped in a pile of crap. Gross. So we quickly did a cleaning and costume change and got her off to school. All day I felt like the apt smelled like poop. Because it probably did.

Nathan got home and I told him I thought I smelled something. After we both got on all fours sniffing around the apartment. We found the culprit. The dog had – apparently – during her bout with an internal colon hurricane – found herself behind all the baby swings, in the corner of apt – and pooped UP the baby gate and all over the floor. Fucking gross.

Then last night. Oh last night. The usual spit up. Diaper changes. Etc. But on one special occasion I rolled over and felt like my leg and arm were wet. I hoped beyond hope that the dog had just peed on her mat and what i felt was her having just cleaned herself. That would have been the best case scenario. I knew in my gut that was not to be true. When i rolled over i felt a squish. Yup. Poop. The dog had pooped in the bed. Fucking disgusting.

So we dealt with that – in between the midnight and 3am feeds. Then, obviously the babies wouldn’t go back to sleep. At 6:45 i decided I needed to shower before Nathan left for the day and I didn’t have a chance. So I walked towards the kitchen. Squish. Fucking poop.

I yell that I’m about to get in the shower and I hear Nathan scream – Oh Goddddd. I thought someone was dying. Nope. JB had a total diaper blow out ALL OVER. All over himself. All over Nathan. Nathan says, I get to shower first.

After clean up he walks towards the bathroom. The cat had peed outside his litter box.

Now I have done laundry every morning this week – today was no different.

Go to wake Harper up. Guess who has a cold.

And to top it all off. THERE’S NO MILK FOR MY COFFEE.

I truly hope you’re all having a better week…i must go, I have two screaming babies.

Happy Hump day (what’s the earliest it’s acceptable to drink?)