Memoir of a Moocow

I need a mommy

2007-04-12T09:43:00.000-07:00

Everyone in the house is sick. All five of us. Since Saturday.

The good part is that I can take a kid to the pediatrician and be able to describe exactly what's wrong, since I have the same problems! Yesterday I did just that; after the twins went down for a nap, I grabbed DD#1 and made the rounds. First we went to the pediatrician and got prescriptions for the three kids. Then we went to my family doctor and got scripts for DH and myself. Then I went to our pharmacy and waited a long time for a huge sack of all the meds.

I can finally swallow a little better, and the cough is coming less. DD#1 looks better today, too, and the babies seem to have more energy.

How you know you're THAT mom

2007-04-09T10:02:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here cleaning up files on my computer and I just realized I'm watching Sesame Street, even though my daughter has long since left the room to do something else.

I've really got to be better at keeping up this blog, as I'll appreciate looking back on these posts later on.

So let's see, what have you missed? DD#1 just turned three, and after some major drama, got accepted into one of the three preschools in town. She's close to being potty trained, but still has to be told when to go, and she doing particularly want to poop in the potty.

DD#2 and DS will turn ONE!! on Friday. Part of me feels as if they've been here forever, and part of me still vividly remembers when they were brand new. DD#2 started walking a week ago. Very cool!

We are all of us quite sick right now. I'm starving, too, but I really don't feel like cooking. I just want to be put in cryostasis until I can be cured.

yeah, yeah

2006-10-14T18:07:00.000-07:00

I'm just rotten at procrastination. Or, I should say, I'm actually great at procrastinating, but bad at doing what I should be doing. I made this blog so I would have a digital record of what I was thinking while my kids were growing up, but at this rate, they'll all be married and moved out by the time I catch up.

In any case, I can't write much now, as DD#1 tore off most of the keys on my keyboard. Typing is rather more of a chore than usual.

This week has been hard

2006-08-29T15:50:00.000-07:00

I woke up Saturday to a tearing right eye, which DH thought might be allergies. By the evening, I realized the entire right side of my face was partially paralyzed. On Sunday morning I went to the E.R. and was diagnosed with Bell's Palsy. F*ck. So for at least the next couple of weeks, I can only halfway see, eat, drink, smile, talk, and taste. It's really annoying.

To cap it off, today I came down with a cold. That's EXACTLY what I needed!

Krispy came back from across the big puddle and, contrary to what I thought she'd do, tried to talk me out of weaning. That is so NOT what I wanted or expected. I just need support. So I called Mega Mama up the street. She has five kids (including a set of twins), and works full-time as a professor. She's still nursing her latest (who's four months older than my twins), and I expected her to try to talk me out of quitting as well, just like everyone else. Surprise! She congratulated me for making it to 4.5 months with nursing and pumping, despite my own health problems. Her words: "Just look at your kids to know you've done a great job!"

So I've been pumping and freezing, then using the milk in rice cereal for the twins, which they started eating three days ago (woohoo!). DS eats it with gusto, DD#2 needs time. She's trying.

DD1 doesn't want me to type just now, so more later.

I think I'm done with it

2006-08-24T14:13:00.000-07:00

Nursing, that is. It seems everyone else I know can pump for 20 minutes and have enough milk to feed their babies. Me, I pump for an hour and have enough to feed one baby for a single bottle. And then there's the PCOS factor. I weigh four pounds more now than I did before I started exercising with the personal trainer, and NINE pounds more than when I started exercising five days a week. That ain't muscle gain, folks.

My DH and my mom say I look more toned. But my pants are tight at the waist. So I guess I'm toned with a layer of insulation.... You know, for the winter. Too bad I live in the South, and not Alaska.

DH says I should pump a few more days to store up milk, just in case. I think I'll also ask my friend up the street if she has any to spare (she gave me some frozen milk when I had to be on antibiotics briefly).

I feel so intensely guilty, and it seems as if everyone I talk to tries to talk me out of quitting, which makes the guilt worse.

Dammit.

Life is full

2006-08-16T11:58:00.000-07:00

It feels as if time just swishes by without my noticing or having even done much of what I needed to do. Lately, my life involves exercising and keeping kids happy--or at least not crying.

At other times, I'm doing dishes, laundry, general cleaning, or playing computer games. And watching kids.

What is really starting to piss me off is my weight. Now, generally I am not one of these "oh! I'm so fat" types who complain but do nothing to fix the problem. I pretty much sat at about 155 lbs. and lived with it. But for the past 7+ weeks, I've been exercising 5 days a week, with a personal trainer, no less. And the weight keeps going up. Now, I know you'll say muscle weighs more than fat. But we're talking about eighteen pounds. I weighed 136 when I gave birth to the twins in April. When I started my training, I was 149. Now I'm 154.

Here the issue: I have PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), and weight gain is one of the symptoms (along with infertility and other nasties). My hormones seem to be battling me for control of my body, and I'm getting pretty pissed about it. I just called the reproductive endocrinologist's nurse, and she suggested birth control pills (I have clinical depression and BCP makes me suicidal in the middle of my cycle) or Metformin (which I tried for two months but didn't do much. I'm waiting to hear back from the doctor.

I'm frustrated.

But I did add another 36 personal training sessions.

This is why I'm a moocow

2006-07-31T13:07:00.000-07:00

So as I'm typing this, I'm hooked up to a "Pump In Style" breastpump. I hate pumping; life just seems to stand still. Toddler wants food, twins start crying, dogs want the gate to the backyard opened...but I'm attached by plastic tubes to my udder. The worst part is that even though I do this every day, I only make about half as much milk as I need to feed two infants, so I have to supplement with formula, which makes them gassy. But if I stopped, full formula would make them constipated. Also, the real stuff is just too good for them to stop for selfish reasons.

I lasted nine months with DD#1; by the end, I was cracked and bleeding all the time, and had suffered mastitis twice. I let myself dry up when I nursed my DD and saw her face was covered in blood when she was done. I used every kind of cream and ointment to keep going as long as I could. I tried gel packs, nipple shields, and air drying. Not a damn thing helped.

So this time, I'm not in such bad shape, but I'm certainly annoyed and frustrated. And sore, at the very least.

No pain...would feel good

2006-07-27T09:54:00.000-07:00

I joined the gym I've been going to for two years. When DD#1 was born, we started weekly Mommy & Me classes there. When preggo with the twins, I did pre-natal yoga there. Now, for the last three weeks, I've been doing pretty much every class they have, pretty much every day. I'm damn sore. I'm taking today off.

Twins both woke up about every three hours last night. If I closed my eyes, I may start snoring. For some reason, DD#2 is still fussing even now. Growth spurts and me: love/hate relationship.

I need a nap.

But life's full of tough choices, innit? We just got some unexpected moola, and I rewarded myself with some FUN. Between fussy kids and daily chores, naptime is just about the only time I can play. I wish I could clone myself.

Speaking of moola, I should mention I have three invites available for http://www.moola.com. Leave a comment if you want one.

The Kreme of Krispy

2006-07-23T19:48:00.000-07:00

When I had DD#1, it all seemed so damn hard. I'd lived in this town for six years, but seemed to know no one. I was a late-blooming grad student, and all my colleagues were either ten years older or ten years younger than I. I enjoyed shooting the shit in our computer room, but true friendship eluded me. I had recently befriended the wife of a professor in my department who was undergoing in vitro around the same time I was. (To explain: I knew the prof through my DH, who knew him because they are both fencers and both instructed the university's club members. The prof and his DW are the same age as we are.)

Anyhoo, that woman (let's call her "Krispy") is now what I would consider my bestest friend. She pretty much forced me to join a group here in town for women who are faculty or staff of the uni, or are wives of faculty or staff. Now, I'm actually neither, but the membership committee seems satisfied with the "My-DH-teaches-fencing" link, as tenuous as that is.

I really fought against joining; I've always had social anxiety and, besides, I didn't feel right about that whole "tenuous link" thing.

This is why we needs friends to force us to do things we don't think we want to do.

So this group has a bunch of small interest groups, and the whole reason Krispy wanted us to join was for the playgroup. But Krispy had twins and after we joined, it was months before she could get her head above water enough to actually come to the group. In the meantime, I had to forge relationships on my own, like a big girl. I love the group: unlike what I always thought SAHMs would be like, every mother in the playgroup is educated and interesting. Not one of us is actually from this town.

This time, I had honest-to-god support after the birth of the twins. People visited in the hospital. Brought food for three weeks. Offered help and checked on me.

I have to say, I don't think I have social anxiety anymore.

Wow - almost two years

2006-07-22T15:06:00.000-07:00

I cannot believe how much time has passed. Let's put it this way: since my last posting, I've gone from having one child to three! Well, it helps that I had two at one time.

They're boy/girl twins. Here are some stupid things people say to me:

1. "Are they identical?" This is after finding out they're boy/girl. Just THINK about it. Besides, they look nothing alike!
2. "You must have your hands full." Every single person says this to me - no lie.
3. "Do twins run in your family?" That's basically asking me whether they were conceived naturally or by artificial means. They HAVE TO run in the family if you're going to conceive them naturally. Mine, however, were a miracle of science, not nature. But yes, they run in the family. Did you really want to know all that?

Boy, I'm grouchy today. You'd think I'd be so cheery after a two-year rest! The babies are 3 months old now, though, and I'm sleep-deprived.

Life Gets in the Way

2004-11-07T09:09:00.000-08:00

Geez, it's been a long time. Baby is now almost nine months and finally got her first tooth. But she's decided sleeping is highly overrated, and DH and I are now suffering.

Hmm, so what's happened since August?

1) I won two Vespa GT scooters from the History Channel! Love love love riding it. We're selling one on consignment in order to pay taxes on all my wins this year. I'm up to about $35,000 in wins. This is going to hurt. DH and I have to get motorcycle licenses to ride. How do I get the scooter to the DMV to take the driving test?!?

2) Allergies gone berserk. Hives gone wild. I already take shots for dogs, cats, dust mites. Subsequent blood test revealed allergies to everything EXCEPT cockroaches and wheat. Crap. I'm on some mega-meds for ten days, which woozifies me.

3) Baby on the move around the house. She crawls by pulling the floor with her hands and pushing with her feet. Floor is much cleaner now.

4) (NOTE: this may be TMI) My nipples and cracked and sore every single day since baby born and I'm so ready to stop nursing/pumping. Two days ago I breastfed her and after, her face was smeared with blood. I can't get the image out of my mind. I emailed the lactation consultant, who told me to STICK WITH IT because RSV and rotovirus season was coming. I'm not happy.

5) Solidified plans to visit all the "grands." Thanxgiving: Mom and stepdad; Xmas: MIL and FIL; New Year: Dad and stepmom.

Day-to-day stuff just involves entering sweeps, not practicing banjo, keeping up with bebe, trying to keep house clean. I'm not sure I'm cut out for this job. I miss teaching. Why can't I pay a ghost writer to finish my damn thesis?

married white female

2004-08-22T09:10:00.000-07:00

I think this is pretty self-explanatory, unlike my other definitions of myself. I'm in my early 30s, married six years, together for twelve (since college). We live in Faulkner's town now, but move here from across the street from a building that ended in tragedy. Fortunately, we left that city in 1998, before the shit hit the ceiling, so to speak. I wasn't entirely ready to leave, and I still feel the need to tell people I moved here from there. I guess it's a snob thing.

I'm not from that city originally, either. I was born in a wet place with a famous bridge. I haven't been back even to visit since 1987, and I do miss it. I'm afraid, however, that my memory may no longer match the current condition of the place. There were no Wal*marts back then. Mc'Ds were rare. Stickers were the hot collectible. I really miss the seafood and Asian cuisine.

I didn't grow up in that city, though. I'm from the county north of it. It's considered a wealthy place, though I certainly never knew that when I live there in our modest ranch house with glass walls. I loved that house. Plum, cherry, lime, and orange trees. A crab apple tree I could climb to get on the roof. My mom's garden on the side of the house, stretching all the way along the fence. My own child-size garden with strawberries and baby carrots.

Miller Creek ran next to our house, and I could get there either through the bramble of blackberry bushes just below our back yard, down a steep hill, or I could climb down next to the bridge on the road around the corner from our street. I remember the big kids put a tire swing somewhere along the creek. My friends and I would collect fool's gold and other pretty rocks, and pretend they were precious. It was magical along the creek.

Alongside the main road was the "old" road. My mom jogged there or rode her bike. She sometimes sent me to collect blackberries that grew wild along the entire length of the road, and then she made cobbler with them. I remember she made her own whipped cream to put on it, in that kitchen with the gold-flecked countertop and the spice rack that stretched along the length of the electric stove.

I love my memories of that home.

ahhhhhhh

2004-08-19T13:22:00.000-07:00

OK, I've got about a spare 3.7 minutes as the baby plays in her bouncer. She's been very, very fussy today and combined with my headache that's spread into my neck, I'm exhausted. She's six months old, but I can't tell if she's teething. I don't want to pay $60 for the doctor just to see if she is, so I'm treating everything I can think of: upset tummy, teething, dirty diaper, sleepiness. Hmph.

The TV is mine today, so I'm catching up on my Tivo'ed shows. Mostly reality stuff. I'm completely addicted. I'll watch pretty much anything that smacks of a reality show. Some of the "romance" ones, though, are too cheesy even for me. "The Mole" was my favorite, and I was all ready to sign up for it, but it only lasted two seasons before they turned it into a celebrity cheese nightmare.

Baby's starting to grunt, so I know she's getting bored already. I guess it's time to stop.

Here we go

2004-08-09T15:17:00.000-07:00

OK, so I created this blog months (well over a year) after the first one (whose password I can't remember), and then let it languish. Bad girl, bad. And here I am reading every other blog in my bookmarks. I gotta just sit and type.

This is the first post so I should say just a little about myself.

Hmm....
I'm a married white female.
An only child with two sisters.
A 21st century breeder.
An over-educated layabout with procrastination tendencies.
An epicurean who hates tomatoes.
A budding picker.
A bad conversationalist.
A reality zealot.
A rampant Amazonian.
A Mac user who has a "d" with a mind of its own.

Obviously, many of those definitions will themselves require explanation. Later.

I'm thinking anyone who knows me would very quickly see those definitions and conclude who I am, so maybe they're not obscure enough. Then again, who will read this besides me anyway?

I'm going to end this post here and start anew...