The past decade and what I've learned about myself

1. Talk nerdy to me and I will likely fall in love with and then marry you. Who knew my three brothers could have such an influence on me!

2. I can and have established incredible bonds with people I have never even met, a handful of whom I talk to, text and email on a regular basis. They are as much my friends and loved ones as the friends I have had since I was a teenager. Thank you Internets for that.

3. I had a very fulfilling if not totally challenging career/job from 2002 to 2007 (with a short stint in '08 when Piglet was three months old) but being a stay at home mom is my true calling, my heart's desire. Some of my friends, after staying home for awhile, decided they wanted to return to work and I understand that too, but for me, home is where it's at. I feel incredibly blessed to have a choice in the matter.

4. I enjoy being crafty, but it ebbs and flows. I never got into the scrapbooking craze, but I did get sucked into the S.tampin' Up card making thing for a bit and I absolutely love knitting and am decent at it despite the fact that it does not come naturally to me. My *extremely* patient and good-humored knitting teacher can attest to that! Right now I'm not doing anything creative or crafty but I hope to knit at least a hat or two for the Twinks before their arrival in March.

5. Mr. K sometimes asks me if I'd like to have another career once the kids are in school and I honestly just don't know. A non-profit event planner/fundraiser by trade, I know I don't want to go back into that unless it's in a volunteer capacity. I haven't found my second professional calling yet, but maybe in the next decade...until then I hope to be active in my kids' lives, their schools and our community.

6. When I was 14, I thought I would be married by the time I was 26 and have a baby by the time I was 30. When I was 24 I thought I would be married before I was 30 and have a baby by the time I was 32. Just goes to show you, older is wiser. Married at 29 (but very nearly 30) and had Piglet just weeks after turning 32.

7. Body image changes tremendously as you get older. Need I say more?

8. I wasn't a very adventurous eater in my early 20s but dating Mr. K was just the mojo I needed to awaken my inner foodie. She's still alive and kicking though has been on hiatus for the past six months or so. We are planning a joyful reunion next spring.

9. I love living where we do. Having all four of my siblings, dearest friends, plus my parents 25 or fewer minutes away has been wonderful. I may not have always appreciated it and though I would've considered relocating in past years, my feet are now firmly planted and I never want to leave...though a vacation home in Hawaii or Palm Desert wouldn't be bad. No siree.

10. A planner to the core, I have learned that even if things don't work out exactly as you wanted, they eventually do work out. You don't always get what you want, you get what you need. Words I have adopted as my new anthem.

Happy New Year, New Decade, my friends. It's my great hope that we will continue to get to know each other and ourselves better in the years to come.

** Please note and respect the new copyright statement located at the bottom of the page. No one likes a copycat.**

On my birthday

One of my husband's co-worker's wives who also happens to be a reader of my blog (you can find her blog here), after months of reading about my complete and utter adoration of all things PIE, actually baked me one! From scratch. And her nice husband brought it into the office and delivered it to Mr. K with expressed instructions that it was for ME!

A GIANT ROASTED APPLE PIE!

ALL FOR MOI!

ON MY BIRTHDAY NO LESS!

To Darren: Thank you for lugging that giant tin into work.

To Msr. Henry: Thank you for being so good thereby giving your mom enough time and energy to bake me that pie.

To Christie: OH. MY. GAWD. That PIE. You are gifted. And thank you for sharing that gift with me! The Twinks also thank you as they are already big fans. Regrettably, Piglet could not be reached for comment. ;)

Matching is overrated

My best friend and I were together this weekend and something someone said reminded of us the time she wore one of these:

With one of THESE.
Meaning -- at the same time, as a PAIR.

I'm sure the hilarity of the situation is not lost on you, my savvy, witty readers!

It was a week after she'd had her second baby and she was rushing to the lactation consultant -- newborn in one hand, ushering preschooler with the other and she just jammed her feet into whatever shoes were under her bed. She drove all the way to the appointment, got out of the car, walked into the office, checked in and sat in the waiting room filling out paperwork before she noticed. Truth be told, *she* didn't notice. The receptionist had to POINT IT OUT TO HER. Imagine her utter surprise when she looked down to find that not only was she not wearing two black shoes or two sporty shoes, but two completely different styles of shoes and colors! (Her driving moc was black patent and her Puma was grey.)

In her sleep deprived fog, she had managed not to notice this oversight. And as you may recall, this is the woman who wore heels and met me for lunch while she was basically in active labor. Seriously. This made me realize (again) that having a baby is overwhelming even for people who have done it before and are usually pretty together.

So whenever I start to hyperventilate or work myself up into a lather freaking out about how, with two newborns and a toddler, the house will stay clean or how I'll be able to stay on top of the laundry, or when I will ever sleep again, I just try to remember what happened to my best friend and laugh it off. She's human and so am I. Perfection is not something to strive for, but survival certainly is. So things won't get done, I might not wear matching shoes sometimes, things are going to be crazy for a little while, but we'll make it. There's no other option. The important thing is that we try our very best to enjoy and cherish the time with our children because it is all too fleeting. Before we know it, we'll be going on college visits with them. Ack. Don't get me started.

As for my friend, four months later, I am happy to report I have only spotted her in matching shoes, clean (chic!) clothes and everyone is alive, well, adorable and thriving. She survived and so will I. I'll even go so far to say that someday, maybe, just maybe, I'll meet her for lunch wearing heels (that match).

From us to you.

My appointment today

A short and sweet update about my boys. I am happy to report that they are still doing so well! They are in fact, thriving. Fluid levels look perfectly even, my cervix grew and is now back to its former glory of 4.37cm and in the past 2.5 weeks the Twinks gained a half a pound each and now weigh 1.5lbs a piece. My perinatologist said that they are bucking the trend of twins being small. Of course I beamed with pride.

Let me just say it again...

THREE POUNDS WORTH OF BABIES!

Les Twinks -- MY Twinks are fatties!

This puts them in the 83% for weight at this gestational age and the scale is based on singletons!

That's right.

You heard me.

I've already pulled out the percentile brag sheet and the babes are STILL IN MY WOMB.

And that, my friends, is how we roll here at Maison Piglet. :)

P.S. - Lest you think it's *all* rainbows and sunshine here, I will confide that I'm thinking about switching our final name choices for the boys to Z.ofran and Z.antac. The boys may be thriving but I am unfortunately NOT! Really the only thing that doesn't make me totally nauseous or give me wicked heartburn are sweets - ice cream, pie, pastries and candy. Now watch me get gestational diabetes. Sheesh.

A great investment

It's no secret, Piglet is a big-time mama's boy. He loves to cuddle and frequently asks for hugs and when he does, he is just plain irresistible. Seriously.

When this face looks at you and says "Mama?" And then he wraps his chubby little arms around himself, I would challenge you not to scoop him up and squeeze him like a package of C.harmin.

The problem is, sometimes once he's all cozy in my arms, he doesn't want to be put down again and when I try to set him back down, he makes like a koala clinging to a branch and I'm stuck. Of course this usually happens when I'm trying to pour myself a cup of hot tea or in the middle of emptying the dishwasher, not to mention that with my growing belly, it's starting to do a number on my back. He'll let me set him on the countertop while I finish my task but (GASP!) it's sooooo dangerous! Piglet is a very cautious little guy but still, I know that the countertop is no place for a toddler.

Then one day I saw The Learning Tower in a catalog and I knew it was what we needed. I'm usually up for buying and trying new things if they will make my life easier but this thing is a piece of furniture and at nearly $200 I had to mull it over a little. After about a month of serious consideration, I bit the bullet and bought one last week at one of my favorite local baby stores. Our handyman assembled it a few days ago and even though it's not quite Christmas yet, I couldn't resist letting Piglet try it out.

Piglet is a huge fan. He's scarcely left the safety of its four sides since I put him in it three days ago. It's very well-made and so much safer than a step stool (or the countertop *hang head in shame*). Now Piglet can be right up at my level while I'm tidying up the kitchen or sitting at the island eating a bagel in the morning. It will also be fantastic the next time we cook or bake together.

To the makers* of this awesomely simple, yet highly useful piece of furniture, I thank you, my back thanks you.

On a Twinks-related note, I am 23 weeks tomorrow! HOLY PIGLETS. We are knocking on the door of viability at 24 weeks. Of course I want them to cook a while longer than that but still, what a milestone! I see the MFMS on Tuesday so look for a full update later this week. I am excited to see the little buggers again and maybe deliver a short lecture on the fact that mommy's uterus is not a bouncy house and particularly not at 2:00 a.m.

*This product was not given to me and I received no compensation for my positive remarks.

That time of year

It's that time of year again where I start to get even more sentimental than usual. And this year, what with the Twinks bumping around and Piglet growing right before my eyes, I am exceedingly weepy. My baby is turning TWO. We've had a such an amazing second year together.

I can't even be trusted to watch O.prah right now because as you all know, she's made me a crier.

What does a sentimental, weepy, pregnant a deux blogger do to harness her energy?

Make a SLIDESHOW of course.

Of course!

A slideshow!

With music!

Genius.

So you can appreciate the gravity of the situation, you may recall I've only ever posted one other slideshow in 249 blog entries. Hang on to your Noble Firs, this one is not for the impatient. In fact, before I previewed it for Mr. K, I warned him of its lengthiness. Once the second song started he said "You're right, no one is going to sit through the whole thing."

But we did.

Twice.

And then I boo-hoo'd a little.

But only a little.

Because I'd already watched in ten times in the past 24 hours.

What do you say, join me for a little trip down memory lane?

*Post edit*

Jen - The songs I used are "Make A Wish" by Chris Rosser and "You Are the Best Thing" by Ray Lamontagne. Enjoy.

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Irked

It's been cold around here, really, really oddly cold for the usually quite temperate Pacific Northwest. If I've ventured out with Piglet, I'm admittedly one of *those* moms who over bundles my child (a la A Christmas Story). I am scared to death of him getting cold, so I apply layer after layer of warmth in order to fend off the dreaded draft. The other day Mr. K took Piglet for a short walk around our neighborhood. Piglet sported the following:

• long-sleeved onesie
• flannel-lined jeans
• cashmere sweater
• heavy fleece half-zip
• heavy wool peacoat with quilted flannel lining
• cashmere hat with fleece lining and ear flaps
• scarf lined with fleece
• socks pulled up to his knees
• boots
• mittens (though he would not wear them so I had to remove them or risk losing one

You can imagine how much it drove me INSANE to see the following while I was shopping at an outdoor mall the other day:

• father wearing: jeans, boots, thick funnel neck sweater, heavy coat, hat and gloves
• child wearing: khaki pants, long-sleeved t-shirt, tennis shoes

I don't care if your kid hates coats and hats or whatever. I also don't care if he/she is strong-willed and "just won't" wear a coat. If it's cold enough for you to need a coat you can bet it's cold enough for your child to need a coat. You're bigger and smarter (in theory) and you need to put some freaking outerwear on your kid; it's 28 degrees outside for crying out loud.

Flashbacks

I've written about this before -- about feeling betwixt and between the world of mommies and playdates and picky eaters and the world of infertility - the world of needles and FSH numbers and slow rising betas. Every year around Christmas time I find myself flashing back to my first IVF cycle.

I remember it all so clearly. The day the giant box of meds arrived and how I excitedly rifled through it like it had come from J Crew and not a fertility pharmacy. Decorating the tree and imagining next year, hanging a sterling silver ornament with our baby's face displayed inside it, adding a stocking to the mantle. I remember all those hours spent hoping, imagining, praying for a miracle. Praying for us to be one of the lucky ones to have our first IVF cycle work.

And then I remember all the first negative home pregnancy tests, thinking that it was probably just too early, the nurse's deflated voice when she called to deliver the news that it hadn't worked. I wasn't pregnant. Not even a little. I remember the swirl of pain and emotions I felt. The heartfelt email from my friend and acupuncturist who wrote "This isn't your fault. I have never had a patient more dedicated and willing to do any and everything it takes to have a successful cycle. It isn't your fault NOT AT ALL."

It was so painful. The ache I felt inside as I watched my sister and sister-in-law with their one month old babies, wondering if I would ever experience being a mother. Trying to convince myself that even if it never worked, I would be ok. Knowing that I was just lying to myself. Always feeling like I was on the verge of tears or a complete breakdown. It was the hardest period of my life.

Even now, nearly three years after that first failed cycle, I can't shake all those swirling emotions. Even with a Piglet asking me to pick him up every two minutes and making preparations to bring home two more babies, the fear that I might not have gotten here, to this place, makes me shudder. I am grateful, so grateful that I am a mother. It is all that I imagined it would be and much more.

My greatest wish this Christmas is that all my friends suffering through infertility, fearful of the unknown, will be able to meet me here, in this place and never, ever look back.

On my nightstand

There's a book that I've been reading for about a month. I'm actually a very fast reader but I am savoring this book, reading and re-reading parts of it, trying to make it last as long as possible because I just don't want it to end. It is so beautifully written and has made both Mr. K and I realize just how extraordinary our identical twins are. Witnessing their bond from infancy to adulthood is going to be amazing.

Really Twinks, no pressure, but Dad and I are really excited that you are identical so you better live up to all the hype.

So back to the book, it's called One and the Same by Abigail Pogrebin. Abigail and her sister Robin are identical twins and Abigail not only tells their story, but interviews countless other sets of twins, siblings of twins, friends of twins and twin experts from all over the world. She writes so beautifully and captures so perfectly all the best and worst parts of twinship. While reading this book, I've laughed and cried (so sorry for the cliche). But one chapter on ART made me do both nearly on the same page. One RE talks about being under fire in the "how many to transfer" argument. There is a supposed belief out there that many REs are willing to transfer an "irresponsible" amount of embryos in order to increase their practice's success rates. He argues that patients are allowed to have a say in their care, to have say about how many get transferred and that it is only fair to let the patients in on the conversation. As I read this, I was getting out my pompons to cheer him on.

The passage goes on to discuss the delicate topic of whether or not REs are "playing God" and whether their chosen speciality is really medically relevant or if it's just profit-driven. I thought his response was dead-on. Here it is:

"I've got news for you. I work my ass off. And I get paid a lot of money, but you know what? When I was thirty-three years old, working 150 hours a week, making about 90 cents an hour, I didn't have anybody complaining about my salary; no one cared. And now, all of a sudden, I finally get to age forty-something and I start making money - after decades of killing myself- and all of a sudden I'm a criminal? And all I'm doing is helping people have babies? They don't know how hard it is to come to work every day, what it's like to tell somebody they just had a miscarriage, to have a patient want to kill you because their IVF cycle didn't work, though you did your damndest to give them their best shot, and they're writing blogs about all the things you should have done because they don't know where to put their anger."

I have to tell you I laughed out loud about the blog comment. These REs really have our number. I wasn't blogging then, but after my first cycled failed I could've written a doozy. Not about the level of care I received, but about how freaking mad I was that things had ended so poorly. A negative beta and none to freeze. They didn't even have a shared risk program then, so it was a total loss with no safety net. It was a painful time in my life.

There have been some books I've read in my life that have made a huge impact, but I think this one may be in the running for a top spot. After Mr. K read it (in about three hours) he looked at me and said "Babe, identical twins are really special." Before reading this book, we were so wrapped up in all the concerns and worries about having twins plus a toddler, we hadn't really stopped to think about the miraculous fluke that was about to introduce us to a whole new world. Then after reading it, we realized just how awesome (and sometimes freakish) the bond between our boys is. Of course now we're worried that Piglet will be left in the dust!

**Post edit**

I was so thrilled and honored to have the author of this life-altering book leave a comment on my blog entry! Abigail (hoping a first name basis is okay), thank you for taking the time to write a comment. It means so much. I hope you know I could have written many, many more paragraphs about all the other facets of your book and how they moved me at the core of my being. Thank you for taking such a personal risk and writing this book for twins and twin families everywhere. By the way, my husband wanted me to tell you that he thinks the photo on the back cover is simply amazing. :)

Update on Les Twinks

Today I had another long ultrasound followed by an appointment with the Maternal Fetal Specialist. I must say, 4.5 weeks really is too long between visits. I started to get anxious at about the three week mark. I am happy to report that Les Twinks / Wontons are doing fabulously!

Here are some pictures of the little darlings. Sorry they aren't the best quality, I took them with my phone and then just emailed them to myself. Too tired to go downstairs to get my camera!

Baby B's foot...though it looks just like Baby A's and also just like Piglet's!

Baby A's winning profile!

Baby A's face from the front. I must say it looks EXACTLY like Piglet's ultrasound pics from the same angle. And I stared at those day in and out and carried them around in my purse so I know what I'm talking about!

Baby B laughing. I had just started to tell the sonographer that I thought Baby B was going to be my calm one and then he started moving his jaw up and down like this as if to say "Sucker. I am a total hellion!"

Man, they are BIG little buggers.

Average at this point in gestation for singleton is about 10.5-11 ounces and 6.5 inches in length.

Les Twinks? Care to venture a guess? You're going to be stunned. I was!

They are 15.7oz and 16oz and 11.5 inches long.

Seriously. What?!

Yes, there is a margin of error, but still, it means they are at least the same size of singletons, or gulp, even bigger than what was shown.

Plus they are measuring nearly a week ahead! My little overachieving Wontons! My guess is that I'll deliver a little after 35 weeks and they'll still be in the 6lb range. There I go counting my chickens again. But so far, I've been right. These babies are made of duct tape or something, they are amazingly strong!

Cervix doing great too! Fluid levels even and clean! All in all it was a fantastic visit.

I also got the sonographer whom I just LOVED which made my almost two hour ultrasound fly by. Plus I had really missed my Twinks, so I was happy to see them bobbing around in there. I even got to witness Baby A deliver a swift kick to Baby B's head. Baby B then migrated all the way up above my belly button. It was so wild and fascinating to observe. I felt so lucky. I still feel lucky.

And now? Yep, still feeling lucky.

The reasons are obvious but I'll tell you anyway. My baby boys are thriving despite my complete inability to stop puking every single day. They are still getting what they need. They are happy in my cozy womb. They are healthy. They are interacting with each other and smiling as they do.

They are perfect.

And in my own way, because of them, I feel perfect too.

When I close my eyes

...and think of Piglet, this is the version of him I see. Wide-eyed, ruffled hair, full cheeks, pink lips, eyelashes that curl at the edges.

Before he was born, I tried to imagine what he would look like. My chin? Mr. K's nose? Lots of hair? Dimples? Like most parents, I dreamt of having a perfect, beautiful child.

That's right. You heard me. I said I wanted my child to be heavy in the good looks department. It's a baby romance thing. A tiny creature with all the best features from you and your husband. What's there not to love about that fantasy?

And I don't think there is a parent out there who would say they wanted otherwise.

"Yes, sir. That's him! The 'face-only-a-mother-could-love' baby I ordered!"

Of COURSE I wanted him to be healthy above all else.

Of course.

Again, there isn't a parent out there who would say they wanted otherwise.

But let's level here.

We all want cute kids. You may not want to admit it, but it's true!

I know that being an infertile means I'm not entitled to want for anything more than *just* the miracle of a live, breathing baby, but what can I say. We aim high at Maison Piglet.

And I'm so glad we do. Because Piglet really wouldn't be Piglet without those lashes that curl at the edges. Shu Uemura, eat your heart out.

Four

Four years ago there was a white silk satin dress and a black tux and a penthouse suite and a live band.

Four years later there are maternity pants and Adidas tennies and a cozy house and Music Together.

Four years from now I'm not sure of the details (hopefully me in my favorite Seven jeans again) but what I do know is there will be love -- and a lot of it.

And probably coffee. A lot of that too.

We are blessed beyond all measure.

Happy Thanksgiving and many blessings to you, all my friends known and unknown.

Eek.

*Warning*  Gratuitous rant/blog entry below.  Needed for stress relief.  Please forgive.

My house is in a total state of flux right now and it is driving the perfectionist in me STARK. RAVING. MAD. I swear I need one (or ten) of those signs that say "Please pardon our mess." There are huge boxes in my foyer and dining room.  There's a large new area rug that's been propped up by the front door since it arrived two weeks ago. There are many bags of Christmas presents waiting to be wrapped in the dining room too.  My laundry room is a disaster. Same goes for the playroom. And my closet.  And Piglet's new room.  Do not get me started on the state of our garage.

I hate that I can't physically lift some of the the things and put them in their rightful place.  The three boxes in the foyer and dining room are good examples of this. What are in the three giant boxes you might ask?

• Our new Valco Tri-Mode stroller that will be able to handle all THREE of our kids. 
  
• Piglet's sweet new drum shade light fixture for his sweet new room.
• Piglet's new nightstand in a manly shade of espresso.

I can usually spend all weekend +one day tackling the house and get it back into good working order.  But right now I just can't.  I'm soooooo freaking tired!  And today I did something weird to my back and pain is radiating from my neck to the small of my back.  Tis not good.  And then it hit me hard - physically, things are going to get a lot WORSE before they get better.  I've known this all along, but with my house feeling like the inside of a tornado right now, I am starting to stress the hell out.  

When will we move the bookshelf and glider out of the nursery so we can move in a futon and another crib?  

When am I going to have time to move all my old work clothes out of Piglet's new closet and make room for his stuff?  And then who will I have come install shelving and organizational stuff to make it as functional as the closet in the nursery?  And where in the world am I going to put all those work clothes?!  I'm not ready to part with all of them yet, but I also have nowhere to store them...

EEK!  

EEK!

EEK!

I am starting to really stress myself out.  I am usually the "project manager" at Maison Piglet, so unless I crack the whip, Mr. K is content to just hang out all day, playing with Piglet, running a few errands and napping.  Who could blame him?  Certainly not moi!  He works hard, really hard.  And I've become a big fan of napping myself.  The problem is, we NEED to get this stuff done and the sooner the better.  I am not getting any smaller or more mobile and God forbid, I get put on bedrest later on or something, I will go absolutely freaking APE knowing there are all these things still to be done.  

So today I called our handyman and scheduled to have him come and put up Piglet's sweet new drum shade light fixture and hang some shelves in there too.  

What can I say?

It's a start. 

PS - Thank you for all the awesome name suggestions.  Mr. K and are scheduled to have another name-choosing/debate session in a few days.  According to him, my "rapid fire" approach of asking if he likes this name or that name does not agree with his linear, nerdy demeanor. ;) 

Stuck

Mr. K and I are stuck.  We have one name picked out, but we cannot decide on our other twin's name.  We are officially open to suggestions.  

Have any?

If you give us a winning suggestion (that is not already listed below), I will send you a hand knit scarf made just for YOU by MOI!  Really!  I will! 

Names we are currently noodling:

James

Ryan

Andrew

Elliott

Mason

Miles 

Help!  As snappy as Twin A and Twin B are, I think those names fall in the top 20 on the S.ocial Security website, so they're OUT.

Oh, Canada!

Mr. K and I are on our babymoon!  When I was pregnant with Piglet, we went on three (Hawaii, Vegas, beach) and I got to pick all three destinations.  This time, I let Mr. K pick and he picked Canada.  Why Canada?  Because he is obsessed with LOVES it here.  After the election in 2004, he seriously looked into moving here because the idea of another four years under THAT administration and its idiocy just drove him completely insane.  Who can blame him?  Fortunately now, we have a new administration and we can quietly tuck away our applications for permanent residency for the time being. :)  

That being said, when we started talking about going away for a few days without Piglet, Mr. K immediately suggested Canada.  I was nonplussed, but out of fairness, practicality (it's a very short flight) and the desire to make him happy, I agreed to our destination.  I dragged my feet on making the arrangements, not booking our flight or our hotel until just a week before we were supposed to be away.  

ME, PEOPLE. WAITING UNTIL THE LAST MINUTE. 

Surely, you jest.  

Eventually, I started to look forward to our getaway and after Mr. K enthusiastically told me to "book it!" when I mentioned our favorite five-star hotel had a location in the city, I got finally got excited.  In my mind, I made plans to ambush the maid's cart that held hundreds of my favorite L'Occitane bath products in miniature. :) 

After our short, but painful-for-me flight (my friend Ralph, present and accounted for), we arrived at our posh hotel just after 12 noon (Mr. K and I each have our own full bathroom!). Once I took a short power nap, an emergency dose of Zofran and brushed my teeth, I was as good as new.  Mr. K and I wandered the city to explore "our new home" as he calls it.  (He's kidding, folks.)  I was delighted to find that in the ten+ years since I'd been here, it's turned into a shopping MECCA.  

In fact, our hotel is situated above the mack-grand-daddy of malls! I literally could tumble out of bed, down 22 floors and be at the front doors of H&M. It's marvelous!  I don't even have to brave the cold!  This is not to mention the hundreds of other large stores and adorable boutiques that pepper the city streets. And the restaurants...oh my goodness.  French food abounds and I could not be happier about it. Say it with me, Crepe Suzette!

So today is day three of our babymoon and I am happy to report that Piglet is enjoying being spoiled to death spending time with my parents and sister's family and hasn't even asked for us.  Ingrate!  


Here he is petting my sister's new puppy while simultaneously watching Thomas the T.ank Engine. Pretty sure he is miserable without us.

We miss our little ankle biter but are relishing our time to sleep in, eat at fancy restaurants like this one and generally answer only to our whim.  We  do however, still point wildly and shout loudly "Crane!" and "Choo choo!!!" every time we see one.  It's like having construction and locomotive Tourettes.  

My only complaint is that I'm pretty sure Zara and H&M are trying to kill me with their IRRESISTIBLE European-if-not-slightly-emo clothing selections for kids.  Sure hope Piglet can adjust to life in skinny jeans.  

Sluggish...

This weekend we cracked open a potty training book.  It supposedly helps you potty train according to your child's disposition, so before the nitty gritty, you take a quiz to help you determine what type of personality your child has and therefore, the best way to move forward.  Piglet is apparently sensory-oriented.  We're still figuring out what the heck that means to the adventure we're about to embark on.

Truth be told, Piglet has been ready for some time...some months actually.  He started out telling us once he'd pooped and then he'd tell us before he pooped and now he tells us all that and also that he wants to go "up" and be changed.  The kid is READY.  

Who isn't ready?

MOI.  

I bought the potty *months* ago but it's been sitting unopened in the garage.  I knew the time was coming...I just couldn't pull the trigger.

It isn't that I love changing diapers, but come on - they are soooo convenient!  And potty training is actually kind of a hideous phase.  And I am exhausted just thinking about it.  AND, I cannot imagine being out and about with all three kids...wait.  Let's just pause and have a good laugh over the likelihood of THAT happening anytime soon.  Ok. So anyway, I cannot imagine being out and Piglet saying he needs to use the potty and WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!  By the time I find a restroom, unload and put the twins into the snap n go and get inside with all three of them, Piglet is sure to have had an accident by then.  

Certain. Potty. Fail.  

But -- I don't want to be the one to hold back my child.  I'm not going to push him to do this, but I'm certainly going to encourage it.  Sit with him, cheer him on, be ready with a new choo choo or gumdrop as a prize.  I'm planning to start after Mr. K and I get back from our upcoming Babymoon.  

I would say wish me luck, but that would be too cliche.  

Instead, I say, wish us POOP! And PEE!  

And not on the floor!!!!!!  

Heard around the house...again

The other night Mr. K and I had planned to go out for dinner. Then as we were walking into the Japanese market, I said "Let's make kim chee tonight!  I have to have kim chee with lots of ginger!"  

Honestly, I RARELY crave the food of Mr. K's people.  But for some reason I was over taken by an intense desire for some.  It was very odd.  Mr. K who often says I "deny" him food from his homeland (he was born in Minnesota) was all over this opportunity.  Then while we were at the market, we decided to make some food of my people as well.  

As we were sitting down to our Asian feast of many colors, our conversation went something like this:

Me: Honey! Look!  The food of your people and the food of my people co-existing harmoniously in one bowl!  It's *just* like our life together... 

Mr. K: Right.  Except now you need to plop three giant wontons in there to make everything messy and chaotic. 

So if someone ever asks the kids what nationality they are, the answer is apparently Chinese.  

Which is really funny considering we're Korean and Vietnamese.  

What I love, what I'll miss...

Things I do and will continue to love about having sons:

• sweater vests
• momma's boys
• natural and incessant curiosity about the world
• as they grow older, their needs remain largely the same and very straightforward: feed, clothe, nurture, love
• endless fascination with things that GO
• brotherly love
• in about eight years, I will never, ever, have to take out the garbage again
• they will probably let me pick out their clothes for many years to come (I just jinxed myself, didn't I?)
• I get to teach them how to be self-sufficient men who will be considered "a catch!" by most standards
• three sets of hands to kill any critter that makes me shriek in terror (usually of the arachnid variety)
• they will become very partial to my cooking :) 
• the only grooming they require is a monthly haircut
• they love their moms FOREVER! 

Things I will miss about never having a daughter:

• inheriting clothes from my sister, Jess and Joy
• witnessing Mr. K parent a little girl, melts my heart to think about it
• always having a ready and willing partner in crime for a day that involves the three Ss: spa, shopping and shoes 
• never seeing my daughter wear all the gorgeous dresses of mine that my mom kept for me all these years
• never getting to see Mr. K walk someone down the aisle 
• sharing secrets as only mothers and daughters can
• teaching her how to throw a fabulous party
• dress shopping for memorable occasions like winter formal, prom, her wedding...
• decorating a girl's nursery...it was going to be gorgeous and full of buttery yellow
• never having a child to send to my high school alma mater (all-girls, baby!)
• never being able to share and relate my experience of growing up 100% with my child

I never thought that I would ever have three children and have them all be the same gender, but alas -- here I am!  For some reason two of the same always seemed likely but three of a kind was out of the question. :)  Time to shift the paradigm and realize everything happens for a reason (infertility excluded because as we all know, it is just cruel and arbitrary). 

I am thrilled that I get the privilege of raising three young people, three sons.  Am I bit wistful that I won't get to experience raising a daughter too?  Of course.  But that doesn't mean I am ungrateful to have three darling boys to call my own.  Not one bit. Because I already know they were all meant to be with me.

To be mine.  

The new men in my life.

I thought I'd write a more detailed account of my trip to the perinatologist yesterday. The big news was of course, that we are having two boys.  The relieving news is that they are doing extremely well!  

Each twin weighs several ounces more than the average twin at the same gestational age.  Their fluid levels are the same, their growth is the same, their heartbeats are strong in the 160s and my cervix is very long.  Look at me...bragging already!  We still have a ways to go, but for now, all is going very, very well.  I'm so grateful!  

Remember what I told you when I was about 8w along?  The Twinks are strong, so very, very strong.  They are here to stay.  

My peri (who I'll call Dr. Sweetie) was so optimistic and pleased with our current stats that he said we could wait four weeks until our next appointment.  Typically I would be seen every two weeks from this point forward.  And while I love seeing my Twinks, I am happy not to lay there through hour-plus long ultrasounds more often than necessary.  

The sonographer (also an IVF survivor) printed me a ridiculous amount of pictures.  Suffice to say I have asked to have her at my next ultrasound!  She said that she was pretty sure they are boys.  I would say that I am more than 100% sure.  All you have to do is look at the photos below...

Yes, indeedy.  The Twinks are little boys.  The new men in my life. Swoon!

Little parts

Apparently I am such an awesome mom to Piglet that it was decided I should have more just like him.

My reaction went something like this:

My three sons...?

My three sons...

My three SONS!!!!!!!!

Sorry to all my friends who I promised I would give all my oodles and oodles of boys' clothes to if we had girls.  

I'm apparently going to need them ALL.  :)  

Will post pictures in a bit, but wanted to share our amazing news!  

P.S. - I know I have some readers who are going to say "poor MVK" or be smug because they have daughters and think boys are crappy, but honestly, my response is: Poor you. You can keep your barrettes, boys ROCK.  

My poll

When I first put the gender poll up it said something like "38 days left to vote."  

And now it says 11 hours and I can hardly believe it.  

In 11 hours we are going to find out if we are adding sons or daughters to our family.  

I have my own gut feeling about pink or blue and while everyone who I see or speak to regularly knows my guess, I think I'll let the rest of you take your own guess.

I love that so many people voted in the poll!!!  Thank you!!!  

As a gesture of lurve to my awesome blog readers, I will report the news here first!  I won't even tell the people on Facebook!  They'll have to come HERE to read the news. How's that for preferential treatment?  

Btw, you should know I'm really good at playing favorites, I've actually already got a system all figured out. It'll go something like this: 

You. 

You are the favorite today. 

You other two?

Are

Not.  

Try again tomorrow.

See?  The key to parenting Piglet plus twins is favoritism!  Easy as pie! (Mmmmmm. PIE.)  I'm Asian, I know a thing or two about favoritism, Mr. K too.  

I am so going to write a parenting book.  

It passes the time

In two days we will *hopefully* find out the gender of our twins.  I say gender because whatever they are, they are the same!  So if just one baby cooperates, we'll be golden. In the meantime, we are keeping busy here at Maison de Piglet by playing all kinds of new games and learning critical life skills, both seen below.  What can I say, we hang out with a lot of cute little girls and we need to be prepared. :)  

Oh and you may want to turn the volume down for the first video.  I am not kidding when I tell you I am having an overly effusive mommy moment and I do believe that my squeal is so high it rivals Mariah C.arey.  In fact I may have cringed when I first watched the video.  So, Piglet is cute as a bug but I am just plain annoying and I'm the first to admit it.  Just sayin'!  

Last year

Exactly one year ago today, I took this picture.  

Today I took this picture. 

I wonder what this picture will look like next year?