The Owens-Peters Family New Year's Letter: The Better Late than Never Edition
Mike and Suzie continue to follow their wanderlust all over the U.S. and (slightly) abroad. Their most memorable trip this past year was to Arizona. The tingling sensation Mike awoke to halfway through was not a sunburn nor a result of sleeping the wrong way: he had suffered a minor stroke! He wanted to just go to church but Uncle Bob and Aunt Paulette wisely shuffled the Leaning Tower of Piety to the emergency room instead. On the third day, he did not rise but Suzie did finally decide to call Kim and Keri and slowly release the details of what happened. Within 72 hours, Kim was on a plane to Arizona to assist in getting them back home safely. Look for the forthcoming memoir called Stroke of Luck adventures from this trip.
Keri and family are doing well despite living in Fox News country. Keri is now a gym teacher, thus out-lesbianing Kim this year. Dan continues to work as a PTA and was very helpful when Mike got home, so I won't rag on him...this year. Noah is a sophomore and excels both academically AND athletically, leading to further suspicions that he was indeed switched at birth. He is taller than all of us now! Natalie started at the middle school this year and also excels in both areas. She has gone from Swiss Miss to Rapunzel; at this rate, she'll simply need a fancy do for her prom and it can double as her dress.
Sue and Kim got married in a very brief, last minute, Sue-needed-bifocals-and-Kim-has-better-vision-insurance ceremony. Andrew and Cooper started pre-school and continue to be the cosmic payback Kim deserves. A mere snippet of what daily life is like:
Kim: "How about we go to Target this morning?"
Andrew: "How about you get me a babysitter?"
Cooper, after a big drift of snow lands on us at the Farmer's Market:
"SON OF A NUTCRACKER!"
Their biggest adventure in 2015 was a trip to Disney with Nana, PopPops, Natalie and moms. Andrew got to meet many of the princesses and they LOVED him, especially Ariel since he was sporting her tennis shoes. Cooper rode a roller coaster and loved it, which means we'll have to hire an au pere for our next visit because I am getting too old for that shit. I have to admit, it truly was a magical experience....and I only choked a little when I wrote that.
2016 will be huge for our family: Noah turns 16 (stay off the roads, Michigan peeps!), Mom and Dad turn 70, the boys turn 5 and start kindergarten....does anyone else hear "Cats and the Cradle" playing in the background? We hope you're recovering nicely from the holiday season and that 2016 has lots of love, laughter and joy in store for you. If Trump wins, feel free to visit us in Canada! HAPPY 2016!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Friday, January 1, 2016
Sunday, December 23, 2012
The Owens-Peters Family Christmas Letter
'Twas two days before Christmas/And in every room/The scent of Lysol/Hinted at past doom....
Um....Lysol?
Yep. The stomach bug knocked the Owens-Peters family for a loop mere days before Christmas. The ONE thing Andrew and Cooper picked to do at the same time? Get sick at 4:00 am on Wednesday morning, the day Sue had taken off to finish all the Christmas stuff and Kim's last day of class/final push for grading.
After 16 months (yes, the boys are 16 months!), you'd think we'd have the hang of this parenting thing. But no, the learning curve is steep and our new lesson this month: baby germs can knock adults on their ass. Sue got hit driving home from Lansing on Thursday afternoon - I'll spare you the details but let's just say a hefty dry cleaning bill was the end result. Kim got hit later that night. Again, no graphic details but it looks like she won't be eating again until 2013.
And fear not for the boys: they were fine by Wednesday night.
Grammy and Pop-Pops came to our rescue. Again. When they aren't off globe trotting, they are here helping us. Grammy cooks, cleans and plays with the boys. Pop-Pops usually holds one of them until they both fall asleep. Clearly, each one plays to their individual strengths. I can't tell you who is happier when they are together, the boys or Grammy and Pop-Pops. The boys actually cry when they leave sometimes, and though she will never admit it, this pleases Grammy to no end.
Aunt Keri works hard to make sure she is one of their favorite people and it is paying off. Kim and Sue have even left the boys with Aunt Keri on a few rare occasions without going into full blown panic attacks once they walked out the door. (To be fair, this is a bigger issue with Kim than Sue.) But their true love, especially Andrew, is Natalie, the girl with the hair made of sunlight. Andrew smiles ALL THE TIME when cousin Natalie is near. And she is far more helpful than one would expect an 8 year old to be, which is why we think she's really 16. Noah, who will be13(!) in a few weeks, intrigues them. He doesn't venture away from his X-Box very often but when he does, the boys want to be with him. He will surely be teaching them some mad soccer skills next summer. Uncle Dan helps keep the boys fit now that he is a certified PTA. He passed his exam in October. We are expecting free exercise regimens and regular adjustments in the near future.
As we reflect on this past year, we are constantly reminded of a few "truths":
- We are awesome parents simply for surviving. We are not perfect - any hope of that went out the window a LONG time ago - but we do the best we can and we always put the boys first.
- We are the parents we are because of the boys we have. They ARE perfect in every way, even when they won't sleep (and again, this is more on Kim than anyone else). The happiness they bring to all of us cannot be described.
- We are beyond grateful for all of our family and friends who have helped us along the way and continue to do so.
We wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy 2013!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Um....Lysol?
Yep. The stomach bug knocked the Owens-Peters family for a loop mere days before Christmas. The ONE thing Andrew and Cooper picked to do at the same time? Get sick at 4:00 am on Wednesday morning, the day Sue had taken off to finish all the Christmas stuff and Kim's last day of class/final push for grading.
After 16 months (yes, the boys are 16 months!), you'd think we'd have the hang of this parenting thing. But no, the learning curve is steep and our new lesson this month: baby germs can knock adults on their ass. Sue got hit driving home from Lansing on Thursday afternoon - I'll spare you the details but let's just say a hefty dry cleaning bill was the end result. Kim got hit later that night. Again, no graphic details but it looks like she won't be eating again until 2013.
And fear not for the boys: they were fine by Wednesday night.
Grammy and Pop-Pops came to our rescue. Again. When they aren't off globe trotting, they are here helping us. Grammy cooks, cleans and plays with the boys. Pop-Pops usually holds one of them until they both fall asleep. Clearly, each one plays to their individual strengths. I can't tell you who is happier when they are together, the boys or Grammy and Pop-Pops. The boys actually cry when they leave sometimes, and though she will never admit it, this pleases Grammy to no end.
Aunt Keri works hard to make sure she is one of their favorite people and it is paying off. Kim and Sue have even left the boys with Aunt Keri on a few rare occasions without going into full blown panic attacks once they walked out the door. (To be fair, this is a bigger issue with Kim than Sue.) But their true love, especially Andrew, is Natalie, the girl with the hair made of sunlight. Andrew smiles ALL THE TIME when cousin Natalie is near. And she is far more helpful than one would expect an 8 year old to be, which is why we think she's really 16. Noah, who will be13(!) in a few weeks, intrigues them. He doesn't venture away from his X-Box very often but when he does, the boys want to be with him. He will surely be teaching them some mad soccer skills next summer. Uncle Dan helps keep the boys fit now that he is a certified PTA. He passed his exam in October. We are expecting free exercise regimens and regular adjustments in the near future.
As we reflect on this past year, we are constantly reminded of a few "truths":
- We are awesome parents simply for surviving. We are not perfect - any hope of that went out the window a LONG time ago - but we do the best we can and we always put the boys first.
- We are the parents we are because of the boys we have. They ARE perfect in every way, even when they won't sleep (and again, this is more on Kim than anyone else). The happiness they bring to all of us cannot be described.
- We are beyond grateful for all of our family and friends who have helped us along the way and continue to do so.
We wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy 2013!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Monday, January 9, 2012
Joys and Challenges
Working a full-time job (professor) and an all-the-time job (MoM - mama of multiples) has turned out to be both exhilarating and difficult, which is why I have been away for so long. Here are a few examples:
Joy: About 6 weeks ago, the boys started sleeping for much longer stretches during the day and at night, often, at least partially, at the same time! This means more time to get stuff done (like catch up on all the tv shows we have missed) and more sleep!
Challenge: This turned out to be a temporary arrangement. We are discovering that as soon as we think we have figured this whole mom thing out, the boys switch it up on us. Frankly, I think they are toying with us. I am fairly certain they are in cahoots to see if we will crack under their ever-changing demands.
Joy: They notice when I am gone and welcome my return with much excitement and adulation. I feel like I have the two cutest groupies every time I walk through the door.
Challenge: They notice when The Saint is gone, and this can cause much grief and sorrow on some days. These are the days when they look upon me with their own version of contempt and disgust, mixed with a tinge of bitter disappointment that they are stuck with me for the day. I wasn't expecting this until they hit 12 or 13; it can be very unnerving when a 4-month old feels that you are beneath him.
Joy: They slowly started on solids!
Challenge: Those solids eventually work their way back out - YUCK!
Joy: They are making the transition to their own room.
Challenge: This is just the first of many steps they will take AWAY from us. I know that is what all children must do but it doesn't make it any less painful.
- The 2nd Mommy
Joy: About 6 weeks ago, the boys started sleeping for much longer stretches during the day and at night, often, at least partially, at the same time! This means more time to get stuff done (like catch up on all the tv shows we have missed) and more sleep!
Challenge: This turned out to be a temporary arrangement. We are discovering that as soon as we think we have figured this whole mom thing out, the boys switch it up on us. Frankly, I think they are toying with us. I am fairly certain they are in cahoots to see if we will crack under their ever-changing demands.
Joy: They notice when I am gone and welcome my return with much excitement and adulation. I feel like I have the two cutest groupies every time I walk through the door.
Challenge: They notice when The Saint is gone, and this can cause much grief and sorrow on some days. These are the days when they look upon me with their own version of contempt and disgust, mixed with a tinge of bitter disappointment that they are stuck with me for the day. I wasn't expecting this until they hit 12 or 13; it can be very unnerving when a 4-month old feels that you are beneath him.
Joy: They slowly started on solids!
Challenge: Those solids eventually work their way back out - YUCK!
Joy: They are making the transition to their own room.
Challenge: This is just the first of many steps they will take AWAY from us. I know that is what all children must do but it doesn't make it any less painful.
- The 2nd Mommy
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Do You See What I See?
How awesome would this be for a Christmas card? This is just one in a series I'd like to use....
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Giving Thanks: An Open Letter to My Boys
Note: Time is relative and I have relatively very little of it. Apologies for my long absence from this blog....
Dear Andrew and Cooper -
Tomorrow we will celebrate your first Thanksgiving, but it will not be the one you will eventually learn about in school. (THAT Thanksgiving is a gross misrepresentation of American history but more on that when you are 2 or 3.) Instead, we will celebrate all the things we are grateful for, a ritual I once thought somewhat trite and cheesy but I guess motherhood makes a bad ass like me soft.
If you were old enough to do so, you'd be giving thanks for the family you were born into. We will have members from both sides with us tomorrow and the only fighting will be to see who gets to hold you the longest. Someday, you might be told that your family is weird or wrong. This is again a gross misrepresentation of reality: your family is different only in that you are loved by so many people.
Mommy (aka The Saint) will be thankful for all the joy you have brought to the household. We were happy before you came, but now we are complete (only not in a treacly, Jerry Maguire way). You made us a family and that is something Mommy has yearned for. She is also grateful for the new tv we will soon purchase because the family room is actually full now...with a family and all the stuff that comes along with the nuclear(ish) unit.
As for me, I am grateful for you for so many reasons:
Dear Andrew and Cooper -
Tomorrow we will celebrate your first Thanksgiving, but it will not be the one you will eventually learn about in school. (THAT Thanksgiving is a gross misrepresentation of American history but more on that when you are 2 or 3.) Instead, we will celebrate all the things we are grateful for, a ritual I once thought somewhat trite and cheesy but I guess motherhood makes a bad ass like me soft.
If you were old enough to do so, you'd be giving thanks for the family you were born into. We will have members from both sides with us tomorrow and the only fighting will be to see who gets to hold you the longest. Someday, you might be told that your family is weird or wrong. This is again a gross misrepresentation of reality: your family is different only in that you are loved by so many people.
Mommy (aka The Saint) will be thankful for all the joy you have brought to the household. We were happy before you came, but now we are complete (only not in a treacly, Jerry Maguire way). You made us a family and that is something Mommy has yearned for. She is also grateful for the new tv we will soon purchase because the family room is actually full now...with a family and all the stuff that comes along with the nuclear(ish) unit.
As for me, I am grateful for you for so many reasons:
- Thank you for reminding me that time is a truly precious commodity. Now that I have so little of it, I have learned to maximize every moment, especially the ones where you are both awake and happy.
- Thank you for the gift of patience. Those 3:00 am feedings have become some of the most quiet and peaceful moments of my day when I can actually remember them. And I have learned to take your cries in stride, even when you both melt down at the same time, because I know they will eventually turn back into coos and smiles. Eventually.
- Thank you for peeing on Pop-Pops a few weeks ago: I am glad I am not the only one who has made that mistake.
- Thank you for sleeping a little longer through the night. I have learned to be grateful for 3 solid hours of sleep but 4 sure does feel nice.
- Thank you for smiling when I come home from work every night. It makes going to work a little easier the next day when I know I have that to look forward to.
- Thank you for letting us take endless pictures of you. We are grateful you were born AFTER film became somewhat obsolete.
- Thank you for reminding both Mommy and me what is really important in life. We have both learned that a spotless house and a pristine yard aren't nearly as fulfilling as baby laughs and snuggle time.
- Even though I agreed to let Mommy put your Green Bay Packer outfits on tomorrow, thank you for secretly being Lions fans with me.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Parenting: Theory vs. Practice - Part 1
As much as I LOVE television, the Saint and I both agreed that we would follow the latest research and not allow the twins to watch television before they were 2.
This promise lasted two months.
Actually, the first few months we were so busy being in loving awe of them, it never crossed our minds to park them in front of the tube. But The Saint went back to work on Wednesday and the promise came to a quick end.
Like three minutes after she left.
So, don't be surprised if you walk by and hear the faint but dreadfully annoying sounds of children's music streaming from our house.
The Backyardigans are our new best friends. They will always be followed by a healthy dose of '80's alternative.
- The 2nd Mommy
This promise lasted two months.
Actually, the first few months we were so busy being in loving awe of them, it never crossed our minds to park them in front of the tube. But The Saint went back to work on Wednesday and the promise came to a quick end.
Like three minutes after she left.
So, don't be surprised if you walk by and hear the faint but dreadfully annoying sounds of children's music streaming from our house.
The Backyardigans are our new best friends. They will always be followed by a healthy dose of '80's alternative.
- The 2nd Mommy
Monday, October 17, 2011
Dammit!
I can't find the blog post that was almost ready to go, so you only get the first line of it:
The house no longer smells of Desitin and despair.
You can fill in the rest for this week. Mama needs a break....
- The 2nd Mommy
The house no longer smells of Desitin and despair.
You can fill in the rest for this week. Mama needs a break....
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Secret Confessions of a Second Mommy
I am bidding farewell to my beloved VW Convertible Beetle at the end of the month. While it is going to a good a home, I am not looking forward to parting with what has become a defining piece of me.
Or so I thought.
We bought a 2007 Buick Rendevouz a few weeks ago, a compromise I begrudgingly made. Hell had to freeze over, thaw out and then freeze again before I agreed to a minivan, the blazing badge of suburban motherhood. (I feared that our GPS would only take us to soccer fields and PTA meetings.) It's black, kind of sporty, has tinted back windows and in excellent condition.
As much as I want to hate it, I actually enjoy driving it.
I am no longer a tiny speck on the road. True, I enjoyed watching people punch each other when I drove by, but the Buick gives me real sense of power. Compared to the Beetle, I sit so high above the road I feel like I am flying a plane (sadly, The Saint refuses to wear a flight attendant uniform or serve me coffee while I am pilo-...driving).
And I no longer stick out. I blend, which means if someone cuts me off, I can tailgate, flip them off and then disappear in traffic. No more pretending to be a nice, peace-loving hippie chick. The bitch is back! But only when I am driving solo, of course. I would never do that with babies in the car.
I will wait until they are five and can truly appreciate the colorful language and high speeds.....
- The 2nd Mommy
Or so I thought.
We bought a 2007 Buick Rendevouz a few weeks ago, a compromise I begrudgingly made. Hell had to freeze over, thaw out and then freeze again before I agreed to a minivan, the blazing badge of suburban motherhood. (I feared that our GPS would only take us to soccer fields and PTA meetings.) It's black, kind of sporty, has tinted back windows and in excellent condition.
As much as I want to hate it, I actually enjoy driving it.
I am no longer a tiny speck on the road. True, I enjoyed watching people punch each other when I drove by, but the Buick gives me real sense of power. Compared to the Beetle, I sit so high above the road I feel like I am flying a plane (sadly, The Saint refuses to wear a flight attendant uniform or serve me coffee while I am pilo-...driving).
And I no longer stick out. I blend, which means if someone cuts me off, I can tailgate, flip them off and then disappear in traffic. No more pretending to be a nice, peace-loving hippie chick. The bitch is back! But only when I am driving solo, of course. I would never do that with babies in the car.
I will wait until they are five and can truly appreciate the colorful language and high speeds.....
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, October 2, 2011
I Like Captions
Here is a glimpse of why Andrew and Cooper will have baby books and photo albums that are actually somewhat entertaining: photo captions!
Andrew is bringing sexy back. Cooper isn't so sure.
Cooper is at that adorable stage where he will eat anything!
Every time a binky is used, an angel gets his wings.
Andrew, the cunning international pacifier thief, always waits for his victims to fall asleep before he strikes!
Cooper Claus!
Um, this Santa has had one too many...
-The 2nd Mommy
Andrew is bringing sexy back. Cooper isn't so sure.
Cooper is at that adorable stage where he will eat anything!
Every time a binky is used, an angel gets his wings.
Andrew, the cunning international pacifier thief, always waits for his victims to fall asleep before he strikes!
Cooper Claus!
Um, this Santa has had one too many...
-The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Life Has Changed - Part 1
New parents often like to talk about how much their life truly has changed since their little bundle(s) of joy arrived. They dither on about shifting priorities, new hopes and dreams, a new appreciation for the simple things in life, and various other bumper stickers and cliches.
Truth be told, I have had those moments as well. I love being a mom. I waited a long time to be a mom and I am savoring those precious moments that I know will end as soon as puberty hits. But motherhood isn't all rainbows and unicorns.
Rainbows need rain. And I assume even unicorns make a mess from time to time. Parenthood is not always a joyous, uplifting endeavor. It can be frustrating, agonizing and stressful.
So how am I really, truly different this week? Because I now consider this the best text message I have ever received:
Cooper finally pooped.
Hello, parenthood. It's nice to meet you.
- The 2nd Mommy
Truth be told, I have had those moments as well. I love being a mom. I waited a long time to be a mom and I am savoring those precious moments that I know will end as soon as puberty hits. But motherhood isn't all rainbows and unicorns.
Rainbows need rain. And I assume even unicorns make a mess from time to time. Parenthood is not always a joyous, uplifting endeavor. It can be frustrating, agonizing and stressful.
So how am I really, truly different this week? Because I now consider this the best text message I have ever received:
Cooper finally pooped.
Hello, parenthood. It's nice to meet you.
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, September 18, 2011
The Emotional Rollercoaster Called Motherhood
I am hoping it is the sleep deprivation but my emotions have been all over the place since the boys have arrived.
Generally speaking, I was once a pretty mellow kind of gal. A dear friend and former roomie (hi, Mo - miss you!) once declared that if I were any more laid back, I'd be horizontal. Sadly, I am just a basket of nerves now and horizontal is a position I am rarely in. Instead, I have been stuck in an emotional wasteland that I fear every mother must visit at some point in order to fully earn the title.
The worst pitstop on this journey is guilt. The boys are just over a month and I have already established residency in this state. The worst: when Cooper received a shot at the doctor's office this past week. I knew it would be awful because of the crying but I was not prepared for what happened when he stopped crying. He suddenly looked up at me with the biggest eyes and the saddest look on his face and I am pretty sure he asked, "Why, mama? Why have you forsaken me?" I have never felt so horrible in my life. Instead of a college fund, I am putting away money for their future therapist.
The paranoia is no picnic, either. Everything scares me now. We actually got a mosquito net (thanks, Hillary M.) for the stroller! We look like a rolling ad for an anti-malaria campaign. I feel like we are traveling through the DMZ in Vietnam every time we go out but I couldn't find a bulletproof canopy a la the Pope mobile, so the net will have to do.
And then there is the happy couple: doubt and fear, the constant companions of new mothers everywhere. The list is too long for this blog but the latest fear is centered around eating. One day, it seems like they are eating too much. Their heads have gotten so big that they actually look like floats for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade (albeit the CUTEST floats ever). Andrew squeaks, sniffles and chortles so much during his feedings that it often feels like Baby Gollum at the other end of the bottle. I am waiting for him to grab it from my hands, caress it and start referring to it as my precioussssss. But other days, it seems like they are the tiniest creatures in the world and they have little to no interest in eating at their usual times, which also keep changing. We even tried to do an Excel spreadsheet to figure out a pattern but my not-so-beautiful mind couldn't figure it out.
And this just leads us right back to guilt. Apparently, we are on a roundabout of motherhood....
- The 2nd Mommy
Generally speaking, I was once a pretty mellow kind of gal. A dear friend and former roomie (hi, Mo - miss you!) once declared that if I were any more laid back, I'd be horizontal. Sadly, I am just a basket of nerves now and horizontal is a position I am rarely in. Instead, I have been stuck in an emotional wasteland that I fear every mother must visit at some point in order to fully earn the title.
The worst pitstop on this journey is guilt. The boys are just over a month and I have already established residency in this state. The worst: when Cooper received a shot at the doctor's office this past week. I knew it would be awful because of the crying but I was not prepared for what happened when he stopped crying. He suddenly looked up at me with the biggest eyes and the saddest look on his face and I am pretty sure he asked, "Why, mama? Why have you forsaken me?" I have never felt so horrible in my life. Instead of a college fund, I am putting away money for their future therapist.
The paranoia is no picnic, either. Everything scares me now. We actually got a mosquito net (thanks, Hillary M.) for the stroller! We look like a rolling ad for an anti-malaria campaign. I feel like we are traveling through the DMZ in Vietnam every time we go out but I couldn't find a bulletproof canopy a la the Pope mobile, so the net will have to do.
And then there is the happy couple: doubt and fear, the constant companions of new mothers everywhere. The list is too long for this blog but the latest fear is centered around eating. One day, it seems like they are eating too much. Their heads have gotten so big that they actually look like floats for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade (albeit the CUTEST floats ever). Andrew squeaks, sniffles and chortles so much during his feedings that it often feels like Baby Gollum at the other end of the bottle. I am waiting for him to grab it from my hands, caress it and start referring to it as my precioussssss. But other days, it seems like they are the tiniest creatures in the world and they have little to no interest in eating at their usual times, which also keep changing. We even tried to do an Excel spreadsheet to figure out a pattern but my not-so-beautiful mind couldn't figure it out.
And this just leads us right back to guilt. Apparently, we are on a roundabout of motherhood....
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, September 11, 2011
One Month Down
We have survived our first month.
I used to laugh to myself when I heard new parents say this, wondering why they were so smug and pleased with themselves about surviving one single month with a child (or children) who were obviously going to be there a lot longer than that. My God, they hadn't even hit the hard parts yet (potty training, preschool, teen years, the sex talk, etc.) and already they were celebrating?!!??! One month isn't enough time to see how much therapy your kid is going to need down the road because you laughed at their decoupage ashtray! Your job hasn't even started yet, so why the hell are you patting yourself on the back??!
I was so naive. I now include you in my toast to the parents who do make it that first month with their sanity more or less intact.
Here is to learning how to survive and thrive on less sleep than you thought was humanly possible. The Saint and I no longer sleep; we take snaps (short sleep time + nap = snap). We are pleased to say that sleep deprivation has not gotten the best of us....except the other night when I thought the extra pillow in our bed was our third child and panicked when I realized I was sleeping on "him." Or the night I drove to Target and forgot how I got there, where I parked the car and what I went there for. Or the night I almost forgot to feed Cooper as we sat in the chair together staring blankly in the dark, the bottle limply dangly in my hand. Ok, sleep deprivation has not killed any of us.
Here is to mastering the art of the big blue poo sausage courtesy of the diaper genie. I can pack those plastic baggies so tight you can bounce a bottle off of them. I hope the folks digging through our trash the other night were impressed with my camouflaging skills and that they hit every single toxic diaper that was in there. Good luck getting the smell out of your truck if you accidentally loaded one up.
Here is to shifting priorities and understanding what is really important in life. There is nothing more zen than rocking a baby in total silence, just being there for this new little life. (Ok, I may have peeked at my iPad once or twice but not nearly as much as I used to.). Here is to finally understanding what it means to live in the now and enjoy the moment.
Here is to embracing the hardest job on earth and loving every second of it...
- The 2nd Mommy
I used to laugh to myself when I heard new parents say this, wondering why they were so smug and pleased with themselves about surviving one single month with a child (or children) who were obviously going to be there a lot longer than that. My God, they hadn't even hit the hard parts yet (potty training, preschool, teen years, the sex talk, etc.) and already they were celebrating?!!??! One month isn't enough time to see how much therapy your kid is going to need down the road because you laughed at their decoupage ashtray! Your job hasn't even started yet, so why the hell are you patting yourself on the back??!
I was so naive. I now include you in my toast to the parents who do make it that first month with their sanity more or less intact.
Here is to learning how to survive and thrive on less sleep than you thought was humanly possible. The Saint and I no longer sleep; we take snaps (short sleep time + nap = snap). We are pleased to say that sleep deprivation has not gotten the best of us....except the other night when I thought the extra pillow in our bed was our third child and panicked when I realized I was sleeping on "him." Or the night I drove to Target and forgot how I got there, where I parked the car and what I went there for. Or the night I almost forgot to feed Cooper as we sat in the chair together staring blankly in the dark, the bottle limply dangly in my hand. Ok, sleep deprivation has not killed any of us.
Here is to mastering the art of the big blue poo sausage courtesy of the diaper genie. I can pack those plastic baggies so tight you can bounce a bottle off of them. I hope the folks digging through our trash the other night were impressed with my camouflaging skills and that they hit every single toxic diaper that was in there. Good luck getting the smell out of your truck if you accidentally loaded one up.
Here is to shifting priorities and understanding what is really important in life. There is nothing more zen than rocking a baby in total silence, just being there for this new little life. (Ok, I may have peeked at my iPad once or twice but not nearly as much as I used to.). Here is to finally understanding what it means to live in the now and enjoy the moment.
Here is to embracing the hardest job on earth and loving every second of it...
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Oh, The Places They Will Go
My Dad likes to tell the story of how he once was changing my diaper and had to lift my naked little body up to straighten out the clothes he was attempting to put on me. As he carefully cradled me, I shit in his hand (sorry, Mom: defecated in his metacarpals).
I thought of this the other night when one of the boys (it's so hard to tell which one at 3:00 am) launched a load of poo across the changing table and onto the lovely Dr. Seuss diaper caddy we got to keep us organized and supposedly prevent such occurrences. And then the book Oh, The Places You Will Go popped into my head but with a very different meaning. The following is a piece of what went through my mind:
You have been here for just 3 weeks
And already you've sprung some leaks.
You hit the shades, the wall and ceiling
You hit my nose and sent me reeling.
You hit your mouth and caught your breath
Which nearly scared my half to death.
But I am sure, as we both well know,
These are not the only places you will go.
I imagine the day will come
Where you will want to bare your bum
And stand upon the deck outside
To launch a stream at full stride.
Or when we're traveling in the car
To places that are distances quite far,
You will announce, after the rest area we just passed,
"Um, I don't think that was just gas."
These are but a few of the places you will go.
And I can tell you this for a fact,
Though the subject lacks in tact,
One day you will find yourself stuck in school
Where bodily functions just aren't cool
But trust me, sons: don't try to keep it in
Your pants are the worst place for urine.
(But sadly, this may be a place where you will go.)
I am sure you will go at least once in bed
(I hope it doesn't land on your brother's head.)
I bet you will go in a lake
Perhaps in a cup and a urinal cake.
If you ever travel with grandma in her car,
I know you'll go in a mayo jar
As this is a spot where all her grandchildren go.
But then one day that will come too fast
All of this will be in the past.
Pretty soon, this potty thing will be a breeze
And you will go with great ease.
Then shortly after, you will be grown.
It will be time for you to be on your own.
And though you think that you are too old
I will still want to know
About all the places where you go.
- The 2nd Mommy
I thought of this the other night when one of the boys (it's so hard to tell which one at 3:00 am) launched a load of poo across the changing table and onto the lovely Dr. Seuss diaper caddy we got to keep us organized and supposedly prevent such occurrences. And then the book Oh, The Places You Will Go popped into my head but with a very different meaning. The following is a piece of what went through my mind:
You have been here for just 3 weeks
And already you've sprung some leaks.
You hit the shades, the wall and ceiling
You hit my nose and sent me reeling.
You hit your mouth and caught your breath
Which nearly scared my half to death.
But I am sure, as we both well know,
These are not the only places you will go.
I imagine the day will come
Where you will want to bare your bum
And stand upon the deck outside
To launch a stream at full stride.
Or when we're traveling in the car
To places that are distances quite far,
You will announce, after the rest area we just passed,
"Um, I don't think that was just gas."
These are but a few of the places you will go.
And I can tell you this for a fact,
Though the subject lacks in tact,
One day you will find yourself stuck in school
Where bodily functions just aren't cool
But trust me, sons: don't try to keep it in
Your pants are the worst place for urine.
(But sadly, this may be a place where you will go.)
I am sure you will go at least once in bed
(I hope it doesn't land on your brother's head.)
I bet you will go in a lake
Perhaps in a cup and a urinal cake.
If you ever travel with grandma in her car,
I know you'll go in a mayo jar
As this is a spot where all her grandchildren go.
But then one day that will come too fast
All of this will be in the past.
Pretty soon, this potty thing will be a breeze
And you will go with great ease.
Then shortly after, you will be grown.
It will be time for you to be on your own.
And though you think that you are too old
I will still want to know
About all the places where you go.
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Song of the New Parent
I am a new parent.
The first thing you will notice is I no longer have eyes but rather two puffy slits to see through. The word exhausted does not do justice to the way I feel because frankly, I feel nothing. I am in a perpetual haze of feeding, burping, soothing and cleaning. I drove to Target the other day and couldn't remember how I got there. A drunk driver in a Pinto with three raccoons would have been safer on the road.
I am a new parent.
Any sense of fashion has been totally discarded. If my shirt and pants are relatively spittle and pee free, then they are good enough to wear. If my teeth have been brushed in the past 72 hours, I am good to go. A shower now means jumping in some running water for three seconds and then getting dressed. If I get to dry off, that is a bonus. The fact that I simply haven't shaved my hair off should be taken as a good sign.
I am a new parent.
I have no idea what day it is. I thought Irene was a new singer a la Adele or the late Amy Winehouse. I am amazed at how much time I wasted when I was not a parent. If I had that time back, I could write a novel, scale Mt. Everest and become a mixed martial arts champ before 6:00 pm. Now I am lucky if I get to use the bathroom with the door closed.
I am a new parent.
I have never been so happy nor loved anyone this fiercely. I have never been so excited to have someone grab my finger or make mewing noises whilst I feed him. I have never simply just sat in silence and soaked in another being for hours on end. I am happy to unplug for an entire day if it means I get to see a 30 second smile.
I am a new parent. And each day gets better and better.
Today, I even got to finish -
- The 2nd Mommy
The first thing you will notice is I no longer have eyes but rather two puffy slits to see through. The word exhausted does not do justice to the way I feel because frankly, I feel nothing. I am in a perpetual haze of feeding, burping, soothing and cleaning. I drove to Target the other day and couldn't remember how I got there. A drunk driver in a Pinto with three raccoons would have been safer on the road.
I am a new parent.
Any sense of fashion has been totally discarded. If my shirt and pants are relatively spittle and pee free, then they are good enough to wear. If my teeth have been brushed in the past 72 hours, I am good to go. A shower now means jumping in some running water for three seconds and then getting dressed. If I get to dry off, that is a bonus. The fact that I simply haven't shaved my hair off should be taken as a good sign.
I am a new parent.
I have no idea what day it is. I thought Irene was a new singer a la Adele or the late Amy Winehouse. I am amazed at how much time I wasted when I was not a parent. If I had that time back, I could write a novel, scale Mt. Everest and become a mixed martial arts champ before 6:00 pm. Now I am lucky if I get to use the bathroom with the door closed.
I am a new parent.
I have never been so happy nor loved anyone this fiercely. I have never been so excited to have someone grab my finger or make mewing noises whilst I feed him. I have never simply just sat in silence and soaked in another being for hours on end. I am happy to unplug for an entire day if it means I get to see a 30 second smile.
I am a new parent. And each day gets better and better.
Today, I even got to finish -
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, August 21, 2011
They're Here!
The twins have arrived and already I see why people were laughing at us while we were pregnant and making all of our grand plans about parenthood.
So far, not many of them have been working out so well.
For example, I was certain the sleep deprivation warnings were a bit overstated. Sure, I was expecting to get a lot less sleep than usual. I was not expecting the type of sleep we would be getting. I thought sleep deprivation meant four hours at night, not four hours over a 24-36 period broken into intervals of 20-45 minutes of dead sleep. The worst part is that I often wake up thinking I have left the babies somewhere unattended. I would saw off my right arm with one of the twins' tiny talon-like nails right now for even three consecutive hours of sleep. I suppose that will come when they are in college. Maybe.
I also thought I knew how to change a diaper already but wrong again. Andrew has peed in his eye, on the window shade, and on the bookshelf across the room. Cooper hit me in my nose. I scoffed at the idea of Pee-pee tee pees but now I am kicking myself for not getting them. By the end of the night, I expect my green lantern shirt will actually be yellow.
And I also thought I was pretty tough. I didn't cry when they were born because I was too excited to see them. But since that time, I have probably cried more than John Boehner at a Tea Party convention. Who knew that two little peanuts could worm their way into my heart so quickly.
- The 2nd Mommy
So far, not many of them have been working out so well.
For example, I was certain the sleep deprivation warnings were a bit overstated. Sure, I was expecting to get a lot less sleep than usual. I was not expecting the type of sleep we would be getting. I thought sleep deprivation meant four hours at night, not four hours over a 24-36 period broken into intervals of 20-45 minutes of dead sleep. The worst part is that I often wake up thinking I have left the babies somewhere unattended. I would saw off my right arm with one of the twins' tiny talon-like nails right now for even three consecutive hours of sleep. I suppose that will come when they are in college. Maybe.
I also thought I knew how to change a diaper already but wrong again. Andrew has peed in his eye, on the window shade, and on the bookshelf across the room. Cooper hit me in my nose. I scoffed at the idea of Pee-pee tee pees but now I am kicking myself for not getting them. By the end of the night, I expect my green lantern shirt will actually be yellow.
And I also thought I was pretty tough. I didn't cry when they were born because I was too excited to see them. But since that time, I have probably cried more than John Boehner at a Tea Party convention. Who knew that two little peanuts could worm their way into my heart so quickly.
- The 2nd Mommy
Thursday, August 11, 2011
A Prayer/Meditation/Wish from The Other Mother
Dear Goddess, Lord, Allah, Buddah, Ganesha, Gaia and all others in the global religious pantheon:
Today, our lives change forever. It has been a long journey and yet we are just getting started. It is both the beginning and the end. It is not a dot but rather a dot, dot, dot. Blah, blah, blah - you're all omniscient, you get the picture.
Today, I ask/implore/beseech you to watch over The Saint closely. Let the medical staff be alert, focused and ready to offer their best care to her. Please keep her as pain free as possible. Let the delivery be safe but swift. If she can keep control of her bodily functions, I am sure she'd appreciate it but I don't want to overstep. Most importantly, please return her to me healthy and ready for the next segment of our lives as a family of four. (Somebody has to start making healthy meals again.)
Please also watch over Cooper and Andrew. May they be slippery enough to slide out easily but not so slippery that the doctor drops them. Let them be healthy, happy, smart and cute, pretty much in that order but an equal abundance of all. Please do not let them poo right when the doctor holds them up for I will surely laugh long and hard. I suspect this would not go over well with The Saint.
Finally, please hold me up in the palms of your hands. Literally. I am scared shitless right now and seriously afraid I am going to pass out at any moment. I don't like needles, so I am thinking witnessing major surgery is not going to go over well. Please let me keep my breakfast down and my head up.
Amen/Blessings/Shalom/Asalamalakum/Peace Out
- The 2nd Mommy
Today, our lives change forever. It has been a long journey and yet we are just getting started. It is both the beginning and the end. It is not a dot but rather a dot, dot, dot. Blah, blah, blah - you're all omniscient, you get the picture.
Today, I ask/implore/beseech you to watch over The Saint closely. Let the medical staff be alert, focused and ready to offer their best care to her. Please keep her as pain free as possible. Let the delivery be safe but swift. If she can keep control of her bodily functions, I am sure she'd appreciate it but I don't want to overstep. Most importantly, please return her to me healthy and ready for the next segment of our lives as a family of four. (Somebody has to start making healthy meals again.)
Please also watch over Cooper and Andrew. May they be slippery enough to slide out easily but not so slippery that the doctor drops them. Let them be healthy, happy, smart and cute, pretty much in that order but an equal abundance of all. Please do not let them poo right when the doctor holds them up for I will surely laugh long and hard. I suspect this would not go over well with The Saint.
Finally, please hold me up in the palms of your hands. Literally. I am scared shitless right now and seriously afraid I am going to pass out at any moment. I don't like needles, so I am thinking witnessing major surgery is not going to go over well. Please let me keep my breakfast down and my head up.
Amen/Blessings/Shalom/Asalamalakum/Peace Out
- The 2nd Mommy
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Is it Just Me....
... or does this shelf with hooks make it look like we are expecting two baby Hefs?
I know, not much of a post today but I wanted to give my friend Liz a nice mental image for the weekend.
Anyway, Friday is the big day and my brain is in overdrive. I have a post ready for Friday but after that, the blog will go down to once a week posts. And I think that is being pretty optimistic.
I will be shooting for every Wednesday. Forgive me if I fall behind...
- The 2nd Mommy
I know, not much of a post today but I wanted to give my friend Liz a nice mental image for the weekend.
Anyway, Friday is the big day and my brain is in overdrive. I have a post ready for Friday but after that, the blog will go down to once a week posts. And I think that is being pretty optimistic.
I will be shooting for every Wednesday. Forgive me if I fall behind...
- The 2nd Mommy
Monday, August 8, 2011
Exercises in Mommyhood
I recently decided to get some mommy practice in and the best way to do this seemed obvious: bake some chocolate cookies.
I know, it seems cliche, overly traditional and perhaps a tad sexist to conflate cookie baking and motherhood but I have such fond memories of making cookies with my grandma that I want to carry on the tradition with my boys. Of course, the problem has already been discussed: I am not so Betty Crocker-ish in the kitchen. But armed with this awareness, I confidently sent The Saint off to nap and began the task.
I started by carefully reading the directions and gathering all the necessary ingredients. This proved to be a wise choice as I realized we were out of baking soda. I almost used baking powder but thought better of it....okay, I briefly woke The Saint up and asked if the 2 were interchangeable but the point is I averted a major disaster. I dashed off to my Mom's to borrow some, dumping a few tablespoons into a plastic baggie. I did get some strange looks from the neighbors when I walked out of my parents' house with a white powder in a little plastic bag but I will let them deal with that when they get home. (Perhaps deal isn't the best word choice - please ignore that if you are in the law enforcement field.)
After carefully combining all the ingredients per the instructions, I was ready to bake. That is when I hit the second snag: according to the recipe, I was supposed to use "rounded tablespoons" to dish out the dough in order to make 5 dozen cookies.
FIVE DOZEN COOKIES???!!? I didn't have time to sit around and wait for five dozen cookies. So I made an adjustment: I used an ice cream scooper to dish the dough out, so the cookies looked like this:
I thought this would simply save time and make for a bigger, and thus more delicious, cookie. But as I should have learned by now, directions are there for a reason.
At first, all seemed fine: the smoke alarm wasn't ringing, I hadn't burned myself yet and The Saint was sound asleep. Then it was time to take the first batch out. I was hoping to see a nice, big cookie dotted with chips. Instead, I saw big blobs of chips dotted with a little bit of dough. They looked like this:
I am not sure how they taste yet because I ate a good chunk of the cookie dough, which led to another snag in the process that I will keep to myself. Let's just say it's a good thing we have two bathrooms in our house.
Good thing the boys missed this one. These are not the kinds of memories I was hoping to create.
- The 2nd Mommy
I know, it seems cliche, overly traditional and perhaps a tad sexist to conflate cookie baking and motherhood but I have such fond memories of making cookies with my grandma that I want to carry on the tradition with my boys. Of course, the problem has already been discussed: I am not so Betty Crocker-ish in the kitchen. But armed with this awareness, I confidently sent The Saint off to nap and began the task.
I started by carefully reading the directions and gathering all the necessary ingredients. This proved to be a wise choice as I realized we were out of baking soda. I almost used baking powder but thought better of it....okay, I briefly woke The Saint up and asked if the 2 were interchangeable but the point is I averted a major disaster. I dashed off to my Mom's to borrow some, dumping a few tablespoons into a plastic baggie. I did get some strange looks from the neighbors when I walked out of my parents' house with a white powder in a little plastic bag but I will let them deal with that when they get home. (Perhaps deal isn't the best word choice - please ignore that if you are in the law enforcement field.)
After carefully combining all the ingredients per the instructions, I was ready to bake. That is when I hit the second snag: according to the recipe, I was supposed to use "rounded tablespoons" to dish out the dough in order to make 5 dozen cookies.
FIVE DOZEN COOKIES???!!? I didn't have time to sit around and wait for five dozen cookies. So I made an adjustment: I used an ice cream scooper to dish the dough out, so the cookies looked like this:
I thought this would simply save time and make for a bigger, and thus more delicious, cookie. But as I should have learned by now, directions are there for a reason.
At first, all seemed fine: the smoke alarm wasn't ringing, I hadn't burned myself yet and The Saint was sound asleep. Then it was time to take the first batch out. I was hoping to see a nice, big cookie dotted with chips. Instead, I saw big blobs of chips dotted with a little bit of dough. They looked like this:
I am not sure how they taste yet because I ate a good chunk of the cookie dough, which led to another snag in the process that I will keep to myself. Let's just say it's a good thing we have two bathrooms in our house.
Good thing the boys missed this one. These are not the kinds of memories I was hoping to create.
- The 2nd Mommy
Friday, August 5, 2011
It's Real
The twins will be here next Friday.
No matter how many times I say it, I still can't believe it. There is a podcast/website called The Longest Shortest Time that is all about early motherhood but I think the title could also refer to pregnancy.
The past two years have been a series of waiting games: waiting for ovulation, waiting to see if The Saint's plumbing was primed for a baby, waiting to see if the pee stick showed a plus sign (really wish I had bought stock in EPT), waiting for the nurse or the doctor or the ultrasound tech, waiting....well, you get the picture. I felt like I did when I was 5 on Christmas Eve, anxiously awaiting the hour I could rouse my parents and open our Christmas gifts. (Sadly, it was never 3:30 am like I thought it should be. I suspect karma will soon be biting me in the ass for all of those Christmas mornings.)
And now, the moment is almost here and I can't believe it. There suddenly seems to be so many things I wanted to do that I didn't get to. The stack of parenting books have only been half read. There is still no space in the kitchen for baby dishes and other eating accessories. The high chairs are still in the box because I haven't had a chance to learn how to build an addition onto the back of the house to accommodate all the gear we have received in preparation for the babies. I still haven't mastered the swaddle technique without cheating and using Velcro or duct tape. Where did the time go?!!!??
Our days are now punctuated by sobering realizations that the two of us will soon be the four of us. At times, I wonder if this is what the Last Supper felt like. One life is about to end for us but another one is about to begin. Part of me will miss the life that is ending.
Fortunately, a much bigger part of me is eager to start the new one....
- The 2nd Mommy
No matter how many times I say it, I still can't believe it. There is a podcast/website called The Longest Shortest Time that is all about early motherhood but I think the title could also refer to pregnancy.
The past two years have been a series of waiting games: waiting for ovulation, waiting to see if The Saint's plumbing was primed for a baby, waiting to see if the pee stick showed a plus sign (really wish I had bought stock in EPT), waiting for the nurse or the doctor or the ultrasound tech, waiting....well, you get the picture. I felt like I did when I was 5 on Christmas Eve, anxiously awaiting the hour I could rouse my parents and open our Christmas gifts. (Sadly, it was never 3:30 am like I thought it should be. I suspect karma will soon be biting me in the ass for all of those Christmas mornings.)
And now, the moment is almost here and I can't believe it. There suddenly seems to be so many things I wanted to do that I didn't get to. The stack of parenting books have only been half read. There is still no space in the kitchen for baby dishes and other eating accessories. The high chairs are still in the box because I haven't had a chance to learn how to build an addition onto the back of the house to accommodate all the gear we have received in preparation for the babies. I still haven't mastered the swaddle technique without cheating and using Velcro or duct tape. Where did the time go?!!!??
Our days are now punctuated by sobering realizations that the two of us will soon be the four of us. At times, I wonder if this is what the Last Supper felt like. One life is about to end for us but another one is about to begin. Part of me will miss the life that is ending.
Fortunately, a much bigger part of me is eager to start the new one....
- The 2nd Mommy
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Lessons in Humility, Part 2
Oh, how the humility continues to rain down upon me. As you recall from last time, my lack of any actual skills has me a tad worried about impending motherhood.
Cleaning is another area I apparently lack in. My mother has been helping us clean the house ever since we moved in. At first, I thought she was just being nice. But lately, her offers are becoming more persistent. She keeps looking around the house and begging me to pick a date when she can come over and dust, vacuum and mop. The sad thing is that I have done all of that....ok, most of that.....ok, I have vacuumed. Recently. Fairly recently.....whatever. Mom, I know you are reading this: I will see you tomorrow at noon.
Unfortunately, the lack of cleaning skills isn't confined to just the inside the house. The Saint has been all about power washing the house ever since we bought it. She wanted to spruce up the appearance by adding new light fixtures as well. Both tasks have taken on a new sense of urgency because, God forbid, we bring those babies home to a house with some dirt on it and ugly light fixtures. After being cramped in what is surely an impeccable womb for 9 months, how gauche would it be to come home to such a hot mess?
Of course, these tasks required both knowledge and tools that I did not have, making me feel doubly inadequate. Enter LG and CB with their big truck of equipment and their big brains filled with all the knowledge needed to wash the house, change out the outdoor lights and install a ceiling fan in the nursery for good measure (and yep, they're gay).
When I started thinking about all of this, I felt pretty stupid looking at the laundry list of things I couldn't do. But looking at all the people who have come to our rescue makes me feel pretty good about all the wonderful friendships we have cultivated throughout the years. Who else can say they had five showers?!?!!! Perhaps we have had the one necessity for parenthood all along:
We have our village. (Or in our case, our Village People.)
- The 2nd Mommy
Cleaning is another area I apparently lack in. My mother has been helping us clean the house ever since we moved in. At first, I thought she was just being nice. But lately, her offers are becoming more persistent. She keeps looking around the house and begging me to pick a date when she can come over and dust, vacuum and mop. The sad thing is that I have done all of that....ok, most of that.....ok, I have vacuumed. Recently. Fairly recently.....whatever. Mom, I know you are reading this: I will see you tomorrow at noon.
Unfortunately, the lack of cleaning skills isn't confined to just the inside the house. The Saint has been all about power washing the house ever since we bought it. She wanted to spruce up the appearance by adding new light fixtures as well. Both tasks have taken on a new sense of urgency because, God forbid, we bring those babies home to a house with some dirt on it and ugly light fixtures. After being cramped in what is surely an impeccable womb for 9 months, how gauche would it be to come home to such a hot mess?
Of course, these tasks required both knowledge and tools that I did not have, making me feel doubly inadequate. Enter LG and CB with their big truck of equipment and their big brains filled with all the knowledge needed to wash the house, change out the outdoor lights and install a ceiling fan in the nursery for good measure (and yep, they're gay).
When I started thinking about all of this, I felt pretty stupid looking at the laundry list of things I couldn't do. But looking at all the people who have come to our rescue makes me feel pretty good about all the wonderful friendships we have cultivated throughout the years. Who else can say they had five showers?!?!!! Perhaps we have had the one necessity for parenthood all along:
We have our village. (Or in our case, our Village People.)
- The 2nd Mommy
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