Always Learning! Always Growing!

I should be cleaning the house right now, but instead I'm down here, on my computer writing a post. Even though my house is a disaster, and every second spent in it stresses me out, I feel taking a minute to do something for myself, that will help me relax, is the best thing I can do right now.

Today my baby boy is 15 months old. As he grows nearer to the age of 18 months I think to myself, "Maybe I should start asking more of him? How old were the twins when I taught them baby signs? How old were they when I made them pick up their messes?"

I think the twins were around 15 months or so when I started asking them to do more things. But, of course, every baby is different. Like I don't know if my youngest will do baby signs. Which is OK. It worked well with the twins, but he may just prefer to talk, since that's what his older brothers do.

Anyway. . .after facing a stressful week of rearranging the house to put up Christmas stuff, trying to get laundry done with a dryer that takes 5 hours to dry a load-- if I stay on top of it-- and trying to get the house dusted and mopped, as those are this weeks chores. I worked two days this week-- which shouldn't be too much to ask, but has really effected my abilities to get things done--, and now they've asked me to come in tomorrow too. Even though 10:00 AM is our wake up time around here, I find myself exhausted and just wanting to lay down all day long, which usually finds me in bed until 11:00 AM or so. Kind of pathetic, I know. But I do stay up late, getting things done.

On top of that, we now enter the holiday season. We have work parties and church meeting to get to. I love, love, love it! But it does also make getting things done around here a little bit harder.

Well, this morning I put the kids in their chairs for breakfast. I gave the twins a bowl of cereal, and the baby a banana. I also gave the baby some cereal to snack on. One of the twins kept saying, "Baby put on the floor!" Meaning the baby was throwing food on the floor. And so begins the tattling. I told the baby 3 times to stop, but still the cereal spilled all over the floor.

I don't know why, but it really got to me today. I've had patience with the endless mess I clean up with this child. The fact that I can't get anything under control whenever he's awake. He makes messes ten times faster then I can clean them up. And all existing messes get lost in the wake. However, patience was now lost. I was feeling really stressed about the house at this point. Very unmotivated, and lacking the help I'd need to get this all cleaned up.

I decided it was time to try and teach him to pick up his mess. Well, that's when I lost it.

The third baby has been a struggle for me, and that's probably no secret. For months I felt like I was the wrong mother for him. That he shouldn't have been sent to me because I just didn't think I could care for him the way I should. My friend blamed it on the fact that I had him c-section, and that I bottle fed-- which, by the way, did not make me very happy. I had the twins by c-section too, and they were bottle fed as well, and I never once regretted having them. But there have been numerous times where I thought, "I shouldn't have had this baby. Everyone was right!"

Why that is? I don't really know. His birth was kind of harsh because his cry sounded so angry. Our personalities seem to clash. Plus, I think it was hard to have a 9 month pregnancy and get two babies out of it, and then be pregnant for the same amount of time to only have one baby. I was exhausted at the end of my pregnancy with baby number three, and part of me felt like pregnancy wasn't worth it.

When the twins arrived I thought, "If I had known all that work was for you I wouldn't have minded."

When baby number three came I thought, "I am just so tired, I don't think I can do this again."



Baby number three is also surrounded by several other stresses. Ever since he came all has fallen apart, and can't be rebuilt-- much like my house when he is awake. I don't mean that to sound like I'm blaming him, it's just the facts. After we got pregnant with him my husband lost his job, I had to return to work, we fell into financial turmoil, we've been on and off food stamps, we've been on and off medicaid, nothing has been steady, we owe everyone money and my household projects have been in a permanent unfinished state. The only thing not permanent about our house projects is how we manage to add even more unfinished projects to the list.

I don't think I love baby number three less than the twins. I just think it's been really hard for the last two years-- that's when I got pregnant with him-- and that has just made it hard to really to enjoy him.

So, I lost it. I yelled and screamed. I said some awful things. I made him cry. I put him in time out, just to get him away from his monster mom. When I opened the door to check on him, his tears almost made me cry. I wanted to hold him, and tell him I was sorry. But I felt, before I did that, he should do as I asked and clean up the mess he made. So I guided his hand and his body completely. We picked up cereal and threw it in the trash. I told him he had to do it, and that I knew he was capable. His brothers got down to help, and I just watched. Then, something amazing happened! He picked up some cereal and put it in the trash. Then he picked up some more. He even picked up two at a time-- that's something that took his brothers a while to grasp. And I just felt wonderful! It felt wrong to feel this wonderful, after I had been so awful. I felt like I didn't deserve it. But I was just so happy with what he had learned. And you know what? He was happy too. He wasn't sulking, or feeling sorry for himself-- which are some of the things he usually does. No, he was happy too!

I knelt down to give him a hug, but he has too busy cleaning up cereal. I finally got him to come over and give me a hug. I told him how sorry I was, and I kissed his head. The funny thing is, with how happy he was, I felt completely forgiven.

I was worried that I may never get past my negative emotions towards the way life has been since we found out we were having our third. But when I calmed down a little, and we made progress on the making of messes, I realized I do love this little boy more than anything. And that things will get better. Our relationship having a few bumps along the way will only mean that it will be more rewarding in the end.

A Year Has Gone By. . .And Then Some

I don't know if I made an official announcement on this blog, but my youngest turned 1 last month. Having your second-- or kind of second-- grow older is a bit stranger than having your first--or firsts-- grow up. In my head my youngest was the baby, and the twins were the toddlers. Now my baby is getting to the toddler stage, and that just seems crazy.

I keep thinking, "Are you old enough for that?" Than I think, "I guess the twins were doing that at his age."

But when it was the twins it didn't seem so strange. In fact I think I tried harder, and expected more, with them. But with my youngest I just have it my head, "He's the baby! He's not ready for that yet."

Luckily the child is persistent, and a very fast learner.

The year began sort of strange. I remember when they delivered the baby. He had the most awful, angry cry you ever heard. It actually kind of shocked me. I was thinking, "Oh my gosh! Put him back! He doesn't want to be here."



My husband and I joked about how he just didn't seem to want to be in the family. I think it was when he was about 3 weeks old we decided, that he had decided, we were OK.

Back to the cry. I kid you not, it was awful. When I finally started to just let him cry(after weeks of indigestion, formula switching and random feedings)he would escalate so fast. Luckily he would only cry for 20 minutes or so, most of the time.

My nephew was over one night and he said, "I don't like the way that baby cries. It's scary!"

Yes the child has a way of crying. It has improved, but there are still days. One day he kept following me around, wanting me to pick him up.



"I'm sorry," I said, "But I'm not going to just hold you all morning."

Finally I just ignored him and tried to let him cry it out. Well, One cry would feed the next. It was an all around pity party, with my baby boy as the main guest.

* * *

On to different subjects, don't you just love this age? I mean they are down right adorable that's for sure. Nothing beats a little baby waddle. That cute little way they have of walking, that soon disappears. And it is just so cute, at this age, when they mimic you. I wouldn't say it's because it's rare, even though it can be. The twins mimic me non-stop--from talking to scolding to cleaning and sorting-- and I have to say it's pretty darn cute. I think it is just because it's new and fun, and they're still chubby and babyish.



Of course, this age brings on some not so fun issues. Welcome to the busy stage! And busy was already busy before it got to this stage. That child is a walking catastrophe, that makes an appearance 3-4 times a day. He has no interest in toys. He doesn't like things to be on top of tables. And this one Halloween decoration we have-- a sticky, type, skeleton thing stuck to our china cabinet-- has become a main target. I've told him, "No!" I've let him play with it, in hopes he'll loose interest. I've even smacked his hand. Nothing can keep that poor skeletons bones stuck to the glass.



I remember when the twins turned one and I thought, "If only I had known this was in our future."

Daily they would pull things out of drawers. Play with a tool their dad had left out, I'd take it away and then they would cry-- sometimes I would let them keep it just because I didn't want to deal with the crying. I'd clean up, they'd pull it back out. I would get them away from something, they would crawl right back. And that thing that people always talked about, about how they would both take off in different directions, really happened. I remember having to decided which one was in more danger,-- that one is almost to the road, but this one is by the irrigation ditch-- and chasing after him first. And would they leave my stuff alone to play with toys? No sir! Not a single toy would interest them. And if I found one, they would play it for five seconds and go right back to wreaking havoc. And they were my easy going ones.

We now have decided to wait until 18 months to see if, or when, we want to plan for the next baby.

I have to say had I waited until 18 months with the twins things probably would have gone more differently. Well, that's what I say at least. I would probably still be pining for a baby. But part of me thinks I would have waited even longer. Maybe 3-4 years. Given the twins a good amount of time on their own. Let it just be us for a while.

Part of me wonders if that would have been better for the oldest of the twins-- he's incredibly jealous of the baby and is incredibly mean to him. But than I also think he came a long way, in a good way, since the baby was born.

At first he wouldn't even look at him. But, after a month, he would pat his head when he cried, rock his car seat and give him a pacifier if he needed one. It was really neat to see that change. But that change changed once 6 months hit and the baby started grabbing for his toys.

Even the youngest, who was such a natural big brother, has given into the sibling rivalry. They even try to block the TV so the baby can't watch their show.

"It's my Thomas!" They yell.

They do this to each other sometimes too. I'm not too worried about it. I think things will change when the baby gets more on their level. Plus he can already tackle them to the ground-- even before he could even walk. I keep telling them he'll be able to fight back, and he's strong and has extremely fine motor skills.



The year was an interesting one. Full of learning and growing, stress and tears, happiness and grief. Now that I have had a year to recover, from pregnancy, I really don't think I want to go back. Partly because it feels so good to have lost all my pregnancy weight. Partly because I'm enjoying getting into shape, and having my body back. But probably the biggest reason is because there really is no time, in the foreseeable future, that a baby would make sense for us. Can that change? I'm sure it can, and probably will. But for now I'm happy, just me and my boys.

1 month!

Yes it's been a month already since we welcomed our third son into the world- it's a little over a month now. And it was a rough month at that.

The first week was calm and easy. With the twins staying at Grandma's one baby didn't seem hard at all, and we hadn't noticed his sensitivity to formula yet.



The second week got a little rough. We started to notice he had gas and switched him to a formula for fussiness and gas. We didn't realize how well it was working until we switched him back to regular formula.

As the third week rolled around he seemed to be fussy all the time. He'd only sleep for an hour. You had to sit and rock him and hold his binkie in, and he was starting to throw up all over.



As we ended the fourth week life seemed better. But then again my husband had just spent a week home. As soon as he left the baby got fussy, the boys made messes and I couldn't get a minute just to put a load of laundry in.

Now we're here. You know how they talk about the calm after the storm? I guess that's what this is, and I'm so glad it finally came. Sometimes I break down, freak out, loose my temper and go crazy for a day. But then after that I seem happy and fine. Well instead of my break downs and freak outs only lasting a day they seemed to last a month. Every once and while I'd get an hour of calm after the storm, but it wouldn't last for long. But for the last two days I feel content, happy and a little relaxed again.



The baby gets more beautiful everyday- that probably sounds like a weird way to describe a boy, but he really is a pretty baby and he's just so nice to look at. He is definitely my husbands baby. My husband adores him, and I can tell they have a special bond.

The twins didn't make this month very easy either. They seemed to be very winy and they were always getting into things they weren't supposed to. They'd sleep in their beds really well one night and then the next night they'd keep getting up to play with toys. They were starting to really frustrate their mother with their crying and their messes. But now they seem to be happier too. And they are actually starting to play with one another, and show affection towards each other- as opposed to hitting and biting each other. From 12 months to 18 months has been the hardest with twins so far- at least for me- but now it looks like it will start getting better.

I have to say having two baby's the same age is definitely easier then having two babies very close in age. So all you ladies with Irish twins, my hat goes off to you ;)

How you ask. . .I do not know

We've been putting the boys down in there beds at bedtime, and then as soon as they climb out and start playing we put them in their cribs. We really don't need the transition to happen right now, and I really didn't know if they were ready, so we didn't push it too hard. Which is why I was shocked when, on the third night of this nightly routine, the boys stayed in their beds. They did it the next night too. And the next day at nap time. I still can't believe it.



I did hear that bedtime routines were important for transitions like these. We did have a routine- PJ's, bottles and music- and I added a bedtime story to see if that would help them settle in their beds. But I don't really know if the routine- or the story- is what made the transition happen or not.


P.S. My big boy did fall off the top bunk twice.

P.P.S. He now won't get of anything by himself no matter how close it is to the ground.

Welcome to the World!

There's never a time in your life when you receive more advice then when you're expecting a child. And apparently the advice giving doesn't fade after you've already successfully had one child- or two for that matter. I was starting to feel as though people didn't count twins as really having a baby. They would keep saying, "Well you had twins so you can try it again with one." And I'm thinking, "I've had twins so I know twice as well what I do and don't want."

Well it wasn't too long ago that a realization came to me. People are eager to suggest and say what they feel you should do because their experience with it was so wonderful and special- or perhaps the opposite- that they want you to share in it too- or avoid it if you can. Though they might not agree with the path you choose they are not going to end their relationship with you simply because you chose a different path- most the time at least.

I say this because a week ago I made the decision to have another c-section. I, of course, had been told countless times not too and I was worried that had I not attempted once more to have a vaginal birth that I would be hearing about it from people for the rest of my life. My mom had to battle with this. One man that she worked with even stopped talking to her completely because she just got a c-section with her second child instead of trying for a vaginal birth. I told the doctor it was one of my worries and he said I could blame it on him if I wanted to. But as I was struggling with the decision, and slowly getting more and more unhappy I started to realize that I had to decide what was important to me. My friends and family had given me advice based on what was important and special to them, but is what was special to them going to be something I wanted, and needed, for myself. It was with that thought that I turned to my husband and said, "It's only worth continuing on in this state if you really want that vaginal birth right?"

"Yeah!" He replied.

"So if it just doesn't seem worth it to me then there's no point in me going on right? It doesn't make me a wimp or a coward? It just means I have different needs and wants as a mother."

With that I felt good and happy with the idea of having another c-section. It felt like a big weight was lifted off my shoulders and I wasn't so depressed or anxious anymore.

We went to the doctor on Monday and I found out that I was still only dilated to a fingertip. That's what I had been since week 37. But it didn't upset or frustrate me, it just made me feel even more secure about my decision to have a c-section.

The doctor did an ultra sound to make sure we didn't have to get me in sooner then not. We found my fluid was on the low side, but not the scary side, and that the baby was measuring 2 weeks small. But the doctor didn't seem worried about it, and we scheduled a c-section for Wednesday morning.

It was so nice to get everything in order before the baby came. We cleaned the whole house, packed all our bags and arranged babysitting for the boys.

We went in Wednesday morning at 6:15. After getting an IV, and being asked a million questions, I was walked back to the OR to get a spinal. A spinal is like an epidural, but the medicine is even stronger so you feel even less. My husband couldn't be there while they put in the spinal, which was really unfortunate because it hurt way more then my epidural did. It stressed me out a little that the nurses had to calm me down. But soon my husband joined me. I was so happy to see him I could have cried. I didn't feel anything as they cut the baby out, and it was so wonderful to hear that first feisty cry. He sounded like such an angry baby, but it was still so wonderful to welcome him to the world.




My husband took some pictures, and I was shocked to see how different he was. Then they let my husband hold him by my head for a little bit. I looked him over and over then turned to my husband and said, "He's not as cute as the twins."

Luckily the swelling went down and soon I recognized my beautiful baby boy. And he is just as adorably cute as the twins were.

I had told the nurses that I was bottle feeding, and I have to say I loved it. It was so much more relaxing, and easy. I was bothered a lot less, and I just felt good knowing what I was doing instead of latching on here, pumping there and bottles everywhere.

He was 6 lbs, 15 oz and 19 inches of sweetness. He was small, but healthy. No Jaundice and no level 2 NICU.

I would get really nauseated off and on that first day from the spinal, and I threw up once, but the second c-section still seemed to go much better. Not going through labor seemed to help a lot with the recovery. I also think it helped that I had been there and had a better idea of what I was capable off. It's now Sunday and I'm feeling really really good.

We came home Friday, and I was so engorged I couldn't wait to pull out the pump. My plan is to pump here and there, and just slowly ween off so I don't have to get engorged and be in a lot of pain.

My parents are still taking care of the twins. I miss them terribly but I know I'm not ready to take care of them yet. It does make it hard to have two little boys who want my attention and I can't fully give it to them. But I figure in a week or two I'll be well enough to play and have fun with them. Had I stayed pregnant I probably would have gone to week 41, and they probably would have had to induce me. That would have left me pregnant for these two weeks meaning I wasn't fully capable of being a good mom anyway. And then I could have ended up with another c-section which means the boys would have been without a full time mom for two more weeks after that. So I figure my decision was still a good one.