From the monthly archives:

June 2009

Jon & Kate Plus a Health Care Mandate

by Myg on June 29, 2009

I swore I wasn’t going to blog the Jon & Kate divorce. Then I read this:

Jon and Kate Plus Health Care – Would better insurance have saved this marriage?

If the Gosselins, whose efforts to raise eight kids have been chronicled over five seasons on cable television, had enjoyed, and availed themselves of, ready access to IVF — the most sophisticated, controlled and expensive form of fertility treatment — they almost certainly would not have had six children at once. “Just one more baby,” is how Kate described their goal after twins. Without the added stress of sextuplets, they would have had a fighting chance at not fighting nearly as much as they did.

That’s a quote from Liza Mundy, the brilliant author of Everything Conceivable: How Assisted Reproduction Is Changing Men, Women and the World. Mundy is a champion for reducing higher order multiple pregnancies through the use IVF technology (instead of IUI, which is less expensive initially but more risky for multiple pregnancies). She makes sound arguments that if health insurance covered IVF, surely we could reduce the number of these dangerous pregnancies, and the number of sad implications for those families where the ending isn’t so happy (or so damned televised).

She’s right, of course. But being right, fair, or rational will not spare her or anyone from the wrath of the insensitive and uninformed internet. I’d love to take on her trolls, which she does herself with aplomb and no small amount of tact. If you really want to get pissed off, please click through that there link and steel yourself for a genuine SOMEONE IS WRONG ON THE INTERNET experience.

Otherwise, I’ll sum up the troll talking points in my favorite way – with bullets! Alas, not real ones.

  1. Having a baby is a choice, not a right (no doubt uttered by anti-choice/so-called pro-lifers).
  2. Fertility treatments are elective procedures, like plastic surgery, and therefore a selfish exercise in vanity (Favorite comparison: IVF to Botox injections. Fucking Botox!)
  3. YOU WANT MY HARD EARNED TAX DOLLARS TO PAY FOR WHAT? (It makes no difference that we’re not talking about taxes, apparently.)
  4. If your body won’t conceive, maybe it’s telling you not to have babies. (No comment.)
  5. Why can’t you adopt? Don’t you know there are starving children out there who need homes? (How many adopted children do you have, asshole? Yeah, that’s what I thought.)
  6. You can’t have everything you want in life and you should count your blessings. (Just a simple “fuck you” will suffice here.)
  7. Fertility treatments should be “illegalized” because… (see numbers 1, 2, 3 and 4 above).

I don’t need to argue all of these points, because Mundy does it so much better, and much more level headed than I can. I will impose the moral fine on your troll asses though. For all ya’ll out there who think fertility treatments are an elective, selfish vanity procedure, I require that you surrender your ovaries or testicles before commenting on any more infertility related articles.  And, I’m putting all your children up for adoption.

How’s that feel?

Okay, now you’re allowed to comment again.

And another thing, about the poor Gosselins? They were SUCH ASSHOLES to each other, every damned episode, how did anyone not see a divorce coming? Seriously.

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Ana Ortiz is AWESOME

by Myg on June 27, 2009

Yes, I’m bringing back the famous moms over 35 or over 40 posts. I always want to know who I’m keeping company with in the pregnant over 35 department.

Now I know, Ana Ortiz is on the list.

ana_ortiz2_150

She’s 38 and expecting her first baby. She’s also from the television show Ugly Betty, which I will tell you right now, I’ve never seen. Because if I’m watching television, it’s the high-brow shit like The Cougar™.

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That kind of day.

by Myg on June 25, 2009

Ever have one of those days where on one level, you know everything is fine, or rather, will be just fine eventually, but on another level, like the level of your blood cells or your bone marrow, you feel that tweaked out jittery feeling, the fluttering in your chest, weariness behind your eyes, rattling between your ears and it’s that feeling that seems to color your day?

I’m having that kind of day.

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Way Back Whensday

by Myg on June 24, 2009

Seems I talk a lot about time passing, right? Well, I was given a great excuse to indulge this sick tendency by Cheryl over at Twinfatuation, (who wrote the amazing Twinspiration, which all you twin parents to be ought to be pouring over!) Cheryl hosts the Way Back Whensday blog meme every week. And I thought, hey, I know these guys have only been alive for 5 months, but still, February does seem like a long time ago right now. In direct contrast to my, “oh my god, it’s going so fast” mantra.  I never said I wasn’t complicated.
 
In any case, below are photos taken of the boys on their 1 month birthday. (Birthday? Anniversary? Huh what?) And if I do say so myself, these are not the world’s most flattering photos.  But, they still make me laugh.
 
Dateline: February 22, 2009
Twins’ ages:  One month
Bing at one month old

"Dude, I'm new at this, alright?" ~ Bing

Doot at 1 month old

"That's no bottle. WTF?" ~Doot

This was when I had the great idea to photograph the twins on their Monthday every month. The problem is, they weren’t in such a photo-happy mood, which led to a series of photos like this:

omg! were a month old and omg!

omg! we're a month old and omg!

Yes, that was the good one.

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Five Months.

by Myg on June 22, 2009

Doot and Bing my dearests,

Can it be? I don’t know how it happened, but according to my calendar you’ve been out five months now. Five months! Why, that’s nearly half a year, isn’t it? The nice thing about this year is that, unlike most years when it gets to be June and I say, ”Wow, I’ve really pissed this year away,” I know exactly why time is flying. This year I can say, yes, I’ve actually done something productive. And that productive thing would be keeping the two of you in fresh diapers and food around the clock.

Speaking of diapers and food, you’re both now eating solids! Seriously, those Sweet Potatoes are fairly rad, as evidenced not only by our tasting them but by Doot’s squealing during a meal, or Bing’s earnest grunting as he hurls his adorable little face onto the spoon as it’s headed towards his mouth.  

He really likes it!From what I can tell, rice cereal is alright too, but we’re a little concerned it may be the culprit behind our latest baby adventure: terds.  I was all cool with the baby terds until Bing went and launched a couple in the bath tub. I wasn’t expecting such a quick disintegration, but then it’s all a learning experience.

Your father, however, is not so cool with baby terds and is insisting we start prunes next week to help keep things, shall we say, loose. I really dunno about that, but I suppose we’ll see what the reaction is and let history judge. Oh, the stories we’ll tell at your 13th birthday party!

Now there has been more to this past month than eating and pooping, not that the formation of solid stools isn’t enough on its own. You guys have also been working so hard at doing stuff. For example, each of you can roll over half way. Doot can roll from belly to back, and Bing from back to belly. (Um, seems you two need to share some information there.) But that’s not all you know how to do now. Here, observe Bing at his desk:

Has the bunneh

IMG_1631Someday, my boy, I am certain there will be an iPhone app that can identify and taste all of those plush objects for you.  But until then, keep up the good work.

Not to be outdone, here’s Doot in his command chair:

Please, don't interrupt.Doot, right about here you are wondering why I’m holding a camera, and not a bowl of Sweet Potatoes.  Right after this was taken, no doubt a memo of protest was drafted and landed in my inbox, but it’s all fuzzy now because this is my fifth month straight of pulling triple shifts with my colleague in this Doot and Bing Raising enterprise, your father.

Darlings, that’s to say I love you with all that I am but I’m not thinking particularly straight these days. This may explain the near miss in exchanging the Neosporin with the A&D butt ointment.

You got to go back to the farm in Virginia this month and visit with Granny and Grandpa and all of your extended Italian relatives! Not once were you stained with tomato sauce, and nor were you the loudest people in the room, not even when you were screaming! Which did happen, by the way. Here’s a photo of us. Some details have been changed to protect the innocent:

IncognitoWe would be the details. You would be the innocent.

Something wonderful has begun to happen in the last few weeks. You’re going to bed at 6:30pm! Gone now are the evenings of your discontent, replaced by evenings where your father and I can Twitter side by side, muttering to each other about #iranelection and taking turns playing Stone Loops on my iPod. I know it doesn’t sound sexy, but kids, the meteor showers are NOT to be missed!

Hmmm. I wonder if by the time you’re in high school terms like iPod and Twitter and hashtag will still mean anything.

Last night Doot, you slept an entire 12 hours. I wept with joy. Bing, I won’t dance around the issue, son, you’ve GOT to start sleeping for more than two hours a shot, okay pal? I think you may be having a growth spurt, or rather, I PRAY TO GOD you’re having a growth spurt and this isn’t some sort of “accidental parenting™” or “night waking habit™.” I want you to know that I read and read and read about how to help you sleep at night, and it seems I’m going to have to let you “cry it out™ ” which some folks who adhere fervently to “attachment parenting™” would think might make you a serial killer some day.

Bing, a mother can go a little nuts trying to sort out all of the expert opinions out there. It seems like expert opinions on child rearing are like assholes. Or maybe, experts with opinions on child rearing are just assholes. I’m not sure anymore.

All I can say is this. Whoever you are, whatever you do, I am your mother and I will always love you. That said, sleeping more than two hours at a stretch overnight will only improve upon the matter.

In any case, my sons, let me end the matter this way. If one day you’re looking back and there’s still an internet and you can still read a blog post that was written when you were five months old, know that those were very good days indeed. Because they were days when you and your mom and your dad and your dog Mason and your two cats and your entire extended family all lived, sometimes happily and sometimes not, but we were all here and all of us in our own way marvelled at the joy you brought to our corner of the world.

So thanks for that, kids. For that, we’ll forget the sleep deprivation AND the terds in the bathtub.

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Hello. I am a (relatively) new sleep-deprived mother of twins, and this is my tale. 

As of today my boys are 21 weeks old, soon to hit the five month mark, though they were born five weeks early, and being born five weeks premature DOES matter, don’t let your pediatrician tell you it doesn’t. I waited five extra weeks for smiles, for cooing, and for rolling over and fretted needlessly. If only I really understood that yes, you must calculate these early milestones using your babies’ due date, I could have turned my attention to the REAL important shit, like worrying about whether my dog could give my newborns Kennel Cough. (He can’t, by the way.)

My last good night of sleep was probably last September, when I was pregnant but before I was waking up 6 times a night to pee. Oh dear, I just teared up writing that sentence because you’ve got to understand how much I love to sleep. LOVE. it. And need it too. If there was an Olympic Sleep Team, I’m telling you I’d be its star player and likely Captain. I can sleep 10 hours a night without any trouble. Or rather, once upon a time I could.

My boys are not necessarily bad sleepers themselves. It’s just that there happens to be two of them, and like many fraternal twin babies, they are very different kids with different sleep behavior. Doot has always been the sleepy baby. He takes after mama in many ways, including his delight in sleep (giddy, smiling, sometimes happily squealing when put in bed). Bing will fight sleep like a UFC champ because he is so engrossed in the teddy bear or the cat or the carpet that he can’t rest until he really, truly gets what it’s all about. Just like his Dad.

When they were first born they were under 5lbs and it was a cold, cold winter. We kept them in long sleeve sleep-n-plays (with legs and feets – screw baby sleeper gowns. I hate them because I always seem to strangle my kids with that stupid elastic bottom when I’m putting them on) and we double swaddled them in two receiving blankets as per the nursery’s directive. We kept them together in a bassinet in our family room, and we took turns camping out on the couch with them 24/7.  The boys were eating constantly then, like anywhere from every hour to every 2 and a half hours, and often not at the same time.  I was trying to build a milk supply too so I nursed them a lot, but they got bottles of formula as well. (My boys had bottles of formula from the beginning because the hospital was incredibly shitty when it came to things like NOT FEEDING YOUR BABY FORMULA unless you, in your pre-eclamptic induced panic remembered to order them not to. Because they sure as hell will NOT bother to ask you this before doing it. So, my boys were given bottles of formula before I even met them. Suckass hospital.)

Once they passed their due date, things began to shift.  They were still sleeping a lot, but they started waking up a lot, too. It was a sort of nightmare of short periods of sleep and short periods of wakefulness, 24 hours a day. Which meant there were no decent stretches – not even say a three hour stretch – where someone could sleep while the babies were sleeping. It was like you’d just finish a diaper change and then wash some bottles so you’d be ready for the next feed, and then you’d lay down and one of them would start crying and you’d start the feeding/changing cycle all over again. 3o minute breaks (or less sometimes) between feeding/changing all night and all day long were typical for the first three months.

I’m telling you now, if Alex wasn’t home with me during that period, I would have really lost my shit. With two of us going full steam and breaking each other for 6 hour stretches of sleep, we were still getting our assess kicked up and down the block again. And neither of us were working yet.

Now before the boys were born, I really thought we could impose a structure, just like all the twin books and not fewer than several sets of twin parents recommended to us. But we just couldn’t do it. Because I swear, we’d put out that memo that said, “In RE: Twin Boys’ Schedule…boys will eat every three hours and then sleep” but the kids, they kept telling us, “Hey, we never got that stupid memo. What memo? We’re calling in our union.”

Eating/Sleeping Routine Memo FAIL.

I was doing it wrong. Because had I been doing it right, my kids would eat and sleep with some kind of regularity, just like all those parenting twins books say, right? My twins had the audacity to get hungry whenever the hell they wanted. You just ate an  hour ago, I’d tell whichever one was complaining. It must be something else. And he’d scream and scream and scream and after trying everything else from pacing to rocking to singing kumbaya to swaddling, I’d make a bottle or nurse him and hey! Guess what? THE KID WAS STARVING.  

And I’d worry I was overfeeding  or being an Italian mama who wants to solve all problems with food. But you know what? Looking back on it now, I can see my boys were just plain hungry, and most likely their little bodies were working to compensate for that prematurity because by their 4 month well baby visit they were 50th percentile in weight on a non-adjusted scale (not adjusted for prematurity), so yeah.

The first three months were harder than I can tell you. If you’ve got twins, then you may know. Or, if you’ve got twins that check their inboxes for the routine memo and naturally take to structure, then you may not know.

But if you’re about to have twins, or just had them, then this is the only advice I have for you:  GET HELP NOW.

Because you won’t know whether your twins are the memo reading routine abiding type, or the creative free thinker show up to work whenever I damn well feel like it type.

Well, there’s one way you can guess which type you’re gonna get.

Look in the mirror. What you see is probably what you’re getting. In any case, that’s what we got. One like him, and one like me. And neither of us are the routine type.

That said, things are much better now at the 5 month (4 month from due date) mark. It’s easier than it was, partly because they’re older and eat every 3-4 hours now, and sleep longer stretches at night. And it’s better partly because we’ve learned how to structure their evenings in a way that works for all of us.

Next time I blog, I’m going to blog about that. But for now, I’m going to go crawl under a table and nap and hope their father doesn’t find me for a few hours.

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Sleep Report 6/18/09

by Myg on June 18, 2009

Ok well, last night, not so hot. Both boys down to sleep by 6:30 pm. That part was great. No fussing, no real crying. Then, Doot up at 10pm. We fed both boys and hoped for the best. Bing woke at 1:30 am. We fed both boys again. Then Bing got up at 4am. He nursed a little, then spit up and went back down to sleep. Then Doot woke up at 4:30, same deal. Then Doot woke up again at 6am, hungry but refused breast. Gah. Bottles given to both boys  as Bing woke up hungry around 6:15.

Not much sleep in these parts.

But there was plenty of happy cooing and “bbbbooooopppffttt” from Bing, and I’m now all but certain his first word is going to be “boob.”

Posted with LifeCast

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I don’t know why I haven’t been able to blog more the past two weeks. Especially when I have photos to show you that are as delectable as this: snuggly rabbits Someday when they are 8 years old and clobbering each other with tonka trucks I am going to show them this photo and say, “See? Deep down, you really and truly do love each other. Now, go get the first aid kit.”

In just the past few days, the boys have started to do something remarkable. Well, it’s probably not all that remarkable on the twin developmental milestone chart, but sheesh, is it cute. Whenever we prop them up and have them face each other,  they crack these ridiculously adorable smiles. We are sure of it now – they recognize each other and they are actually expressing real delight at the sight of one another. They smile at each other the way they smile at us when we come in the room. And we watch them do it and get all emotional and we say to ourselves, “Damn we’re lucky.” 

And we’re lucky for this too:

Mason - what a face! 

 Because I don’t care if he did eat my favorite pair of flip flops. He is the best dog ever.

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This and that.

by Myg on June 1, 2009

Among the items that were significant enough in my consciousness to warrant a blog mention today are:

1. Is Doot beginning to teethe? Oh, please God please God no – not yet, not like this. Why am I concerned he may be? Intermittent screechiness accompanied by voracious gnawing on fingers and copious amounts of drool for about two days. Wait, let me answer before you ask. No, he’s not just hungry. No, he’s not running a fever. And no, I can’t feel any little tooth buds nor are his gums red or swollen or perceptibly sore to the touch. He’s got no symptoms of an ear infection, cold, or any other physical malady that I can tell. I guess that leaves infant schizophreniform as the only logical possibility aside from mo’fo TEETHING.

2. Wednesday morning we’re leaving to go visit my mom and my beloved-but-not-seen-enough-family-from-out-west! And some family from close by who I never see too, still beloved, but just on the same side of lazy as we are. Said reunion is taking place at my mom’s farm in Virginia. I’m truly edge of my seat excited to have everyone meet the brothers. But man, if that teething thing is really starting, it could turn the baby drama up to a whole new level. Imagine 15 members of an Italian-American family and their dogs all under one roof for six days. If you can’t imagine it, imagine the Sopranos in the country without semi-automatics or peach everything interior design. I’m bracing myself for lots of unsolicited parenting tips. My plan? I’m going to smile politely and pretend I’m interested. My problem? Things never go the way I plan them. (And if you’re related to me and reading this now, of course, of course I don’t mean you. I mean those other relatives who always give unsolicited advice. You know the ones.)

3. This list isn’t in order of any kind of importantness (which, for the record, isn’t really a word. I know that.)

4. [REDACTED]

5. My job, the one I was leaving? It got funded for another year when nobody was looking. In a state where the economic downturn has struck so hard that full time state employees are forced to take unpaid furloughs in lieu of layoffs, how does one accidentally get a state funded grant for $50k?

6. Sometimes I think Flash™ wants to make me its bitch.

7. I will never, ever lose the additional 30 lbs I want need to lose as long as Obama allows peanut butter cookies to roam free. And that goes for ice cream and snack chips too. All kinds of snack chips. Snack chips FTW™!

8. Four days as a new mom with very short hair and my internal Stacy and Clinton™ say, “FAIL.” They don’t like how it looks. Of course, they also convinced me to buy that hot pink sweater with the short poofy sleeves that makes me look like a middle aged cheerleader on a date with the gout. So, I’m not saying in the abstract my hair actually looks bad. But I am saying that somehow that lack of hair really points out the excess of flesh in my midsection. Okay, in my ass, arms and thighs too. Don’t know how. Haircuts are magic I guess.

9. [REDACTED]

10. And the cutest thing in the world is this:

IMG_1204

and various variations of this:

IMG_1211

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