Two months in...

The Twinks are over two months old now. TWO. MONTHS. OLD.

Wait.

What?

You may or may not have noticed my two plus week absence. If you follow me (which means you are AWESOME) you probably noticed. And if you don't follow me but are a reader, (you are also awesome but not quite as awesome) you probably didn't. :) Meghan, who is AWESOME, noticed and delivered the proverbial kick in the arse, butt, BOTTOM I needed.

(Aaaaaaannnnnnnd there. I am officially a parent. In case you are wondering, I also spell out words I don't want my kids to understand.)

Anyway, the Twinks have officially "woken up." This means that they are now painfully aware of any type of discomfort.

"Ohhhh my bellllllllyyyyyyy hurrrrrrts!"

"I'm not being helllllllld!!!!!"

"You ate too much Mexicaaaaaaan!"

"I need to poooooooooop!!!!"

This also means that they are so much more demanding than they were even just ONE week ago. There are days I swear they are plotting my destruction. Add Piglet and his oh-so-very-twoness to the mix and I am a crazy woman.

Correction.

I am a craziER woman.

In an effort not to mislead, I do have help. Our lovely Urban Outfitters-Toms-Joe's Jeans-wearing nanny, Lisa, upgraded her status to full-time for the summer and I am so grateful. When she arrives each morning, she's usually greeted by this:

• Me, wild-eyed in spit-up stained shirt and PJ pants, holding a baby while eating eggs directly out of the pan.


• PJ clad Piglet running rampant saying "Bye bye Eesha! Bye bye! No, no Eesha!"


• Other baby crying in bouncy seat, swing or sling.

GOOD MORNING!!! WELCOME BACK!!! PLEASE PUT SOME PANTS ON PIGLET!!!

Poor Lisa.

Poor awesome Lisa. Who is sometimes so very awesome that I send her to the liquor store for Mojito fixings before she leaves for the day.

What?!

It's good for my milk.

Wait.

That's beer.

Oh well, I've sent her to the store for that too.

(Note to self: When hiring nannies in the future, be sure they are 21 and up.)

Anyway, while the days are long, the years are short and time is FLYING by at Maison Piglets. It's been bittersweet to see my Twinks trade in their wrinkly legs for chubby rolls and triple chins. Piglet is speaking in complete sentences and talking about things we didn't think he even noticed. Everybody's growing up. Even MOI.

One of my regular indulgences has always been getting pedicures. I love having pretty painted toes. I abhor the exercise of removing and applying nail polish.

The story goes like this: (ample) nail salons => meet MVK, they fall in love. Their affair spans many years.

Except now, being outnumbered by children means I rarely, if ever, go anywhere without at least one kiddo. And if I do, it's somewhere with Mr. K, who's not so big into the pedicure scene. So my dilemma is this: walk around with ghetto toes or grow up and crack open the acetone.

Crap.

In the end, vanity wins. Please pass the cotton balls.


Wait. How did this blog entry lead to me talking about feet?!

Anyway, we are hanging in there, even if it's just barely. The Twinks are wonderful, demanding and already starting to show their distinct personalities. Peeper (P) has this pathetic cry that is part whine, part gasp and is hilarious. It's as though he's saying "Oh I'm sooooooooo sad! I'm just miserable! I might not make it another second!" And Giant (G) does this thing where he makes a sound like he's choking before letting out a full-on wail. Often they do it in unison and it's a baby crying symphony over here.

Speaking of symphonies. Mr. K has taken up the guitar. He's self-teaching through the MIRACLE of the internet. Many of our recent conversations go something like this:

Me: Babe. Babe. BABE! What are you doing? Have you changed the babies yet? Have you taken a shower? We have to go soon!

Mr. K: I'm soothing the babies with my gentle strumming! (continues "strumming" Edelweiss)

Me: I think you mean you are killing me softly.

Mr. K: I'm sorry you can't appreciate my ART.

Me: I would appreciate it a lot more if you didn't practice it right when we have to be somewhere.

Mr. K: But doesn't it DELIGHT you?

Me: Sure, Captain Von Trapp, sure. Now go put the babies in their car seats.

So that's a snap shot into life at Maison Piglets right now. We are having fun, laughing and being our usual entertaining selves.

Sorry I was away so long. I've had my hands full. Oh and of course I had all those SHOWERS to take. And thanks again Meghan for asking me to come back. I love feeling lurved.

And last but not least -- pictures.

In case you're all wondering why there's a picture of Mr. K's arse, butt, BOTTOM (there I go again) included, it's because I want to share all the highlights from the past few weeks.

And that included Mr. K in his new "A" pocket Seven jeans.

To think that when I met him, he was wearing ripped, light-wash Gap jeans from 1992 (and sadly, it was 2002).

You've come a long way, baby.

We all have.

So, Mother's Day...

There are a thousand reasons why I fell in love with and subsequently, married my husband.

He is kind.

He is a good person.

He knows his way around a kitchen.

He is brilliant.

I'll spare you the remaining 996 reasons, but rest assured they exist.

However.

Because you *knew* there was a 'however' in there -- gift giving/purchasing is not his strong suit. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that he kind of sucks at it.

Kind of.

Fortunately, given some guidance and gentle direction (e.g. catalog pages ripped out and taped to his rather imposing eyebrows), he has been known to pull through critical situations. Without said guidance or direction, he's like a lamb to the slaughter. Because MVK loves her some presents.

They don't need always need to be grand or extravagant but I love getting trinkets from Mr. K. I also *adore* giving gifts. I'm that person who buys a gift in advance and then just can't wait until the occasion arrives, so I give it to the person early. I'm so five that way. The year the Wii had just come out and was impossible to get? I got my hands on one and lasted two days before I gave it to Mr. K even though Christmas was still two weeks away. The better the gift, the more excited I am to give it.

Mr. K? He could take or leave gifts (and occasions for that matter). Anniversaries, birthdays, holidays are all fine and good with him, but there's no thrill or excitement surrounding them. He enjoys getting gifts, but if all I presented him with on his birthday was a pair of socks and a peanut butter sandwich, he'd be fine. Grateful, even. The man is a nutter butter like that.

In the formative phase of our nearly decade-long relationship, I thought it was cute and quirky. For instance our first Christmas together, he got me the following:

• a spatula large and sturdy enough not only to flip pancakes, but perhaps also a snow tire
• a pair of leopard print, bootie-style Dearfoam slippers
• a pair of brown hairy socks

It was an inexplicable trio of gifts but I went with it because I was in LURV.

As the years have passed, I've accepted Mr. K's lack of enthusiasm in the gift giving department. Often, I just save him the trouble and say "Babe, I bought myself a birthday present from you. It's fabulous and thank you."

Sometimes he surprises me and of his own volition, does something awesome. Last year for my birthday (when I was 100 months pregnant with the Twinks) he wrote me the sweetest card and enclosed homemade coupons for a five day, kid-free getaway for myself and a friend. We've already planned a sunny vacation for the fall and I'm so excited!

But for Mother's Day this year, I didn't have time or energy to rip out pages of catalogs or send links to things I want online. In fact, there wasn't really anything I wanted or needed. But that being said, I'm still a WOMAN and considering I'd just given birth to twins, I figured it was an occasion Mr. K might spend a little time noodling. Just this once.

On Sunday, Mr. K and Piglet presented me with a teal blue envelope (not from Tiffany, don't get excited) and inside it was a card with the message "Warm Wishes on Mother's Day" imprinted on the inside. I should've known then that Mr. K was short on sleep and energy and this was not going to end well for any of us.

Mr. K wrote some nice sentiments on the card and signed it from he and the boys with a P.S. that read: "Coming soon are coupons for TEN SHOWERS! So you can shower anytime you want! Happy Mother's Day!"

DUDE.

SHOWERS.

S-to-the-H-to-the-OWERS.

As in to be used to BATHE MYSELF.

As in that was my MOTHER'S DAY GIFT this year.

Just to reiterate in case you are not quite sure what I mean.

Mr. K honored me, the mother of his THREE children, the woman who went to great lengths and innumerable pains to bear said children, with the gift of TAKING A SHOWER. And not just ONE shower, but TEN!

TEN WHOLE SHOWERS!

ALL FOR ME!

I MUST BE AN AWESOME MOTHER TO DESERVE SUCH A GIFT!

You can *imagine* how well this was received by my raging, sleep-deprived postpartum hormones.

"But, but, you are always saying how GREAT you feel once you've taken a shower in the morning! I thought this would delight you!" Mr. K was treading water like hell.

My thoughts? Apparently I should've repeated over and over how GREAT it feels to wear DIAMONDS everyday!

Or SMELL ROSES!

Or EAT CHOCOLATE!

Mr. K is a very literal person. Who knew?

You may wonder why I'm sharing this story since it's not a typical recounting of the Mother's Day. Because I want you to know it's not always bubbles and cupcakes at Maison Piglet. And while it wasn't funny at all at the time, it was funny as hell just one day later.

The next day I laughed until I cried because it was so funny.

The story is SO Mr. K; SO very US.

And while I might forget about roses or chocolate (but not likely diamonds, ahem), I will never forget the year I got showers for Mother's Day.

Thanks, Babe. You're nothing if not memorable!

Oh and Father's Day is coming up and paybacks are hell.

Tiny techie

If this video doesn't prove the whole, apple ---> tree theory, I'm not sure what does. I took this a few days after we got our beloved i.Pads. Piglet is *so* like his father!

A few things of note: It's not lost on me that Piglet's hair here makes him look like Eddie Munster. He was in desperate need of a haircut, which he subsequently got that night. Also, did you all notice how he instinctively picks up the tablecloth and starts cleaning off the screen with it? He may be a techie like his dad, but that pesky little need for clean? ONE guess where he got that. :) I actually have better videos of him using his fat little paw to go from one video to the next, but I chose this one to share with you because of the tablecloth action.

I enlarged the font to match my heart which is SWELLING WITH PRIDE.

PS - In case you're wondering, as far as Piglet is concerned, only Daddy's iPad can playback all the fun videos of you riding the streetcar, Mommy's just can't do that. Funny how that works.

And they say Mr. K is a genius...

1+2 vs 2+1

First off, thank you to the lurkers who took pity on me and hit 'follow' after my sad cry for help last post! And thanks also to my long-time readers who did the same because they had me in their Google readers but weren't followers. You made my day! Piglet sends you a big, wet kiss.

Back to business...

When I found out I was pregnant with twins, I found myself wishing that we could've done this in reverse - twins first and then a singleton. (A chorus of "beggars can't be choosers" just rang through my head.) I'd heard from so many twin parents that had had another child later, that their singleton was *so* easy in comparison to their twins and it would've been so much harder to have one and then add twins to the mix. I know they didn't mean to scare me, but I'll admit, it was intimidating to say the least. Piglet was not an easy baby and the thought of adding two more demanding shriekers to our just-starting-to-quiet-down home left me shaking in my ballet flats.

Don't even *ask* how Mr. K was coping with the the pending reality. Twasn't pretty.

But now that the Twinks have been here over a month, I can honestly say that while I'm probably in the minority, I am so glad that we had Piglet first and then added the Twinks to the pen. I'm sure you're all scratching your heads and wondering why.

I'll tell you why.

Are you sitting down?

Do you have a glass of water nearby?

Because I don't want you to start feeling faint from the forthcoming admission.

Ready?

Steady?

Here goes: I'm glad I had one plus two instead of two plus one because...

I'm a leetle on the ocd, high strung end of the spectrum when it comes to parenting. There. I said it. Having said that. caring for twins AND being a first time mom is likely to have turned me into a total NUTTER.

I know this is completely shocking to you all.

Who ME? High strung? Picky? Still puts onesies under my two year-old's tee shirts because I'm worried he'll catch a draft?!

*I* would've been a big dose of CRAZY if I'd had twins first?

No, really.

Shocking.

I know.

Now take a sip of water. You'll feel better.

Anyway, I had a realization last week as I solo parented the trio. G was on the changing table getting not only a diaper swap but a complete wardrobe change too. Piglet was running circles around me and demanding more juice, while P (who was fed, clean and swaddled) in the bouncey seat started crying the loudest most frenetic cry I'd ever heard from him. Wah! Wah! Wah! Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!

Now had I been a rookie, being there, in the eye of the storm, might have rattled me.

But instead I just started laughing while assuring P that I'd be there in just a minute, that he was just fine.

And you have to admit, laughing is better than crying.

Because crying usually ruins your makeup.

That is, if you're wearing makeup.

Which I was not.

(Those of you that know me well may need to take another sip of water at this point.)

So I laughed a little while my child screamed his head off.

Damn, that sounds worse than it was. (I'm a MONSTER!!!)

In fact, it wasn't bad at all. It was just 48.9 seconds of screaming for P before all was right in his world again.

It didn't bother me in the least. I wasn't rattled, I wasn't stressed. I was just finishing taking care of one baby after another.

No worries at all, everything was fine!

(Who IS this person?)

Forget the water, have some vodka.

The diaper that was asked to do too much.

With three little piggies in the house, you can imagine how many diapers we go through in a day. And sometimes, because we are unaware or think the other person has already changed it, we let Piglet's diaper get a little (or a lot) too wet. Then one morning last weekend, Mr. K yelled down to me that Piglet needed new sheets on his bed. "Did you let him run around naked again?" I asked, "not mad, just curious."

"Nope, but he had two sippy cups of juice and I haven't changed his diaper since last night."

Oh for SHAME.

And as Mr. K removed last night's diaper, I heard him say "And here is the diaper that was asked to do too much." Hilarious.

And sometimes I feel like that diaper is a metaphor for me and my life. Except in my world, pee isn't the only burden I carry. Oh Pampers, you got off so easy this time, you have no idea!

But you know what? I asked for this. I prayed on my hands and knees for this. And I am not complaining. But you must admit, I AM kind of like that diaper!

Newborn twins. Check!

Demanding toddler. Check!

Traveling husband. Check!

OCD tendencies in relation to housekeeping, childcare and appearance. Check, check, check!

Though I have let that last one, "appearance" go -- better me than my babes.

Did you see that?

The subtle martyrdom that was implied just now?

Oh, I am SO officially a MOTHER.

Anyway, on to more important business...

The Twinks are thriving and doing so well. In the spirit of my original reason for blogging, here is their one month update.

Weights:

P-Babe (baby A) 6lbs12oz, birth weight was 5lbs9oz

G-Bear (baby B) 7lbs9oz, birth weight was 5lbs13oz

They gained 1.4 lbs each in the ten days from one dr. appointment to the next. W00t!

The Twinks LOVE

• being held
• having their backs patted (especially G)
• their binks, which is interesting since their big brother never really did
• getting their hair washed, G is more tranquil about it while P will sometimes get impatient
• snuggling close with their heads together, usually P puts his head on G's shoulder, it is impossibly cute

The Twinks are OVER

• loose swaddles, they are Houdinis and so I've been forced work on my origami skills
• sleeping all the time, they are awake and alert for several hours of the day
• burping, because spitting up all over mom's freshly washed coif is so much more satisfying

And that about sums it up. Dude, what do you expect, they're only a month old. But, it'll get more exciting, I promise. By their two month update, I am sure they'll have gotten their 12x tables memorized. (Do kids still memorize their Xs tables?)

Sorry for the boring post but since I am a consummate loser with their baby books (same with Piglet's), this is only place I record stats!

So now I'll put you out of your boring blog post reading misery and post some more PICTURES!

Can I get an AMEN?

Word.

And now you know their names...but don't let it go to your head.

P.S. - I have 39 followers, nothing to write home about, but still, my small army is very meaningful to me! However, the fact that 39 is not an even number is making me a Nutburger (as D.ooce's husband would say). So if you're lurking and have even the tiniest inclination to follow my humble blog abode, help me back away from the ledge and hit FOLLOW! Thanks, dude.

***Post Edit***

A couple things - I was moderating comments from my iPhone and my ham hands accidentally checked "reject" instead of "publish" so if you don't see your comment (Vaso and someone else) thanks for commenting and I'm sorry I accidentally rejected it!

And second, thanks so much for getting me out of my follower slump! Fist pump! You do realize though, that now I am going to obsess until I reach 50 nifty. ;)

No one's been electrocuted yet, so things can only get better.

That's what Mr. K said tonight after Piglet poured my fresh (and oh so tasty) can of Hansen's Key Lime soda onto one of our live power strips. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the current state of Maison Piglet.

So anyway, um, it's been almost another two weeks (hanging head in shame). I swear that I won't become one of those bloggers that abandons my blog *just because* I had babies. I mean, big friggin' deal, right? Just two whole lives (three if you count Piglet) that are completely reliant on me for nourishment, nurturing and all care? Seriously. Those other bloggers are such slackers.

The things that have occurred to me lately as I wander through my days in a fog?

1) Piglet is ENORMOUS. I mean, when did he get so freaking huge? When I'm changing his diaper on the changing table, I swear I might as well be lifting Mr. K up there and wiping HIS ass. Btw, in case you are wondering, Mr. K thinks the coolness of the wipes could be very pleasant. Also, he would enjoy smelling fresh as a daisy.

2) Twins are still awesome. However, the fact that there are, you know, TWO of them, plus a toddler around, means that I am *always* busy taking care of one or all of them. I am never without a baby to care for. Subsequently, I eat my meals, type this blog entry, fold laundry and perform various other tasks with one hand. Or sometimes, my toes. In fact, at times, the things I'm able to accomplish purely through the the use of my big and second toes (and relatively freakish flexibility) make me wish someone was around to witness my resourcefulness.

3) More than ever, I realize that Mr. K is not good at multitasking. Case in point.

Me: Babe, can you take those bins up to the playroom, move that chair back to the dining room and throw the stuff that's in the washing machine into the dryer?

Mr. K: {Walks around in circles for approximately 1.3 minutes, goes upstairs empty handed.}

Me: {Three minutes later when I realize that the bins are still here, the chair has not been returned to the dining room and Mr. K is nowhere in sight.} DUDE!!! Where are you? What are you dooooooooing?!

Mr. K: Say what? I'M SETTING UP OUR PASSWORD MANAGER!

Me: DUDE! I asked you to do those three things! You haven't done ANY of them!!!! Arghhhhhh!!!!

Mr. K: BABE! I'll do it! I just...hold on...give me a sec...jeez, I *swear* you don't appreciate the things I do for our family!!!

Me: I WOULD except I'm too busy doing the things I asked YOU TO DO.

Fortunately we lurv each other or else, well, let's just leave it at that.

4) More than ever, I realize that Mr. K is one hell of a dad. He loves our kids and is amazingly good at caring for all three of them at once. So much so, that I actually get a solo outing about once a week, even if it's just to Target.

5) When short on sleep, my brain works best in list format. Notice that my last three blog entries have all been lists. Bear with me?

6) Three kids later, the perfectionist in me is still alive and kicking. Despite protests and people saying "just let the house go..." it just isn't in me. What IS in me is an abundance of Clorox spray and stainless steel cleaner. My closet is a house of horrors, but when you live in yoga pants it doesn't really matter whether you pick them up off the carpet or find them neatly folded in a drawer.

7) Getting out of the house with three kids in tow isn't really as crazy or as daunting as it sounds. Yes, it can take two hours to organize and yes, we often take half the house with us, but right now the babies are easy and Piglet loves going on adventures so we get out as much as the schedule allows.

8) Divide and conquer. Words to live by when you have multiples and a toddler.

Last but not least, when in doubt (or unable to form any more grammatically correct sentences), POST MORE PICTURES!

Eek...

It's me! I'm still here! I didn't abandon you my bloggy friends!

It's just that I am so busy changing, feeding, loving and staring at my three little boy wonders. And after I'm done

Changing.

Feeding.

Loving

And staring at them, I

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

Snort.

Wha?

Who?

Sorry.

But know that I think about you and this blog *every day* and I worry that you won't forgive me, or worse, you'll STOP READING.

Gasp!

So here I am, after a nearly two week absence, making like Tiger and asking for redemption.

What better way to win you all over again than a list of the top things uttered at Maison Kim lately.

Ready?

1. "Oh P is awake, wait, that's G, wait, hold on, which baby, oh CRAP."

2. 8:00 p.m. Monday night -- "It's NOT the hormones, that is so annoying that you keep saying it's my hormones. It's not the hormones, it's YOU. Hmmph!"

8:00 a.m. Tuesday morning -- "Dude, sorry about last night. Raging hormones"

3. "What do you mean 'Why are you crying?' POSTPARTUM HORMONES. GOOGLE IT."

4. "Piglet, be gentle, oops carrrrreful, the baby doesn't like it when you pull his head like that. Eh, whatever, we've got a spare."

5. "You're my prize cow! Can I enter you into a 4H competition?"

6. Me: "Dude. 10:30 p.m. isn't really am optimum bedtime for a two year-old."

Mr. K: "Oh crap! It's after 10:00?!"

7. "I LOVE MY iPAD."

8. "I want another baby..."

9. "Great! I hope you and your new husband are very happy together and enjoy your fourth child!"

10. "I'm so glad we have three little boys."

"Me too."

There are many more posts knocking around in my head, but when I sit down to write, I forget what I wanted to write about. As my friend Carrie said, right now, I'm just flying by the seat of my yoga pants.

One week

This is going to sound so cliché, but I can't believe it's been a week since I finally gave up Sideshow Bob status and had the Twinks! It has been an amazing, amazing week with our THREE children (I can *almost* justify doing a roll call). My top few observations since having the babes?

1) If you can opt out of a c-section DO IT. Mine wasn't 100% medically necessary but it wasn't completely elective either. I could've pushed (bahahaha) not to have one, but because I knew the risks with ID twins and also because of my inevitable need to get rid of my cyst-ridden left ovary, I decided to go with the c-section. BAD DECISION! Worst of 2010 so far! I really should know better. Because I don't tolerate n.arcotics well, I don't take them and the "breakthrough pain" was almost unbearable in the two days following the boys' arrival. Plus the sheer madness of having two tiny babies and wanting to change them and swaddle them and generally be a complete control freak (who, moi?) about their care is totally hindered by your inability to even get out of bed. Ask Mr. K. He had to endure this conversation over and over.

Me: Babe, I want them to wear these other blue hats. They're in the inside left pocket of the polka dot diaper bag.

Mr. K: These?

Me: No. Those are blue bear hats. I want the plain ones.

Mr. K: How about this one?

Me: No! They're just PLAIN BLUE. They're preemie size. LEFT. INSIDE. POCKET.

OTHER.

LEFT.

Mr. K: I can't find them, I'm just going to use the hospital hats.

Me: Nooooo! I don't like those hats! Not for pictures!

Mr. K: Who cares! They're warm!

Me: So are the ones I brought. Oh wait! They're in the other bag. Okay so go into the inside pocket of the black bag...

2) Twins are freaking awesome. It's really that simple.

3) Just because your nurse calls you "Sugar" and "Sweetie" and talks to you with a baby voice does not mean she actually dosed you with the correct meds, or actually, any meds at all. So be like me and bring your own damn A.dvil and T.ylenol.

And now because I am paying a doula so I can sleep, I better get to it. But to make up for brevity of my post, I leave you with this.

Only my third slideshow in almost two years of blogging. I hope you enjoy watching it as much as I enjoyed living it. I just have to say it again...I LOVE my precious little Twinks. They are an absolute miracle.

Photo slideshow generated with Smilebox