The Man

There are moments in my life I look back on with such clarity it seems like it happened just minutes prior. Whether it has been stress, or stress....or stress...I have remembered many of those moments lately. The moment Ben told me he loved me and wanted to marry me, completely and utterly out of the blue. A rainy day in Mexico where we played cards for hours and just talked, with the huge windows open and the ocean breeze blowing in a fine misty spray. The worst snowstorm we endured in Michigan where Ben's beard was frozen from the thundersnow and we both spent 5 hours clearing the church parking lot only to have it coming down faster than we could keep up. The moment I looked down and saw the word, "Pregnant" for the very first time. And then, of course, the second time years later when the pink lines took my breath away....not even a remote thought in my head at that point that I would be bringing two bundles of joy into the world that next October. Many memories in my life with Ben have been delightful. :) Some not so much, of course, but that is marriage!

I reference my husband occasionally here but I've been feeling particularly thankful for him lately and find it appropriate now to explain why.

Ben and I have a relationship dynamic that can only be described as unique. We have always been friends first. Many people say that, but for us it is 100% true. We were friends. Close friends. For several years. Not a single word was spoken about anything romantic between us until the day Ben took a risk, shared his heart (basically meaning he told me he loved me and wanted to marry me!), and waited for my reaction. Yowzers. I am laughing now just remembering my "peppy Carrie" gleeful response of, "ME TOO!!!" So amazing to see how God weaved our lives together and continues to do so.

That conversation was followed quickly by an engagement and Ben promptly moving to Michigan without me! A few short months later, we said our "I Do's" and the rest is, so they say, history.

Sounds simple enough. But of course it never is.

Many times over the course of my nine year marriage I have been the subject of discussion. As you may have gathered, we are pretty conservative and our relationship with God is important to us. Our faith is the foundation of our lives, our marriage, our family and our home.

This is a touchy subject so I'll just cut to the chase. I'm not what most, in our circles at least, would see as a typical wife. What does that mean? I am opinionated. I am fiercely independent. I am frankly the insensitive, pants-wearing, steerer of the ship. Just the truth. Ben is the sensitive, caring, compassionate and quieter one.

I would not describe myself as a feminist, although I certainly have been known to chant out "Women power!" and wholeheartedly believe that a woman can and should be successful, smart and independent. Eeek, I know some of you are already whispering the word feminist! If you've read my blog at all I'm sure this revelation about myself isn't a surprise.

But I digress. This is supposed to be about Ben. So anyway, I've gotten a lot of grief in the 9 years of our marriage. I should say BEN has gotten a lot of grief. There's no way around it. We make decisions together. Ben just does not have a dominant personality....I do.

So where does that leave us? In our neck of the woods, this kind of relationship could be interpreted as wrong. Ben's favorite response (to me) when other people comment on our relationship dynamic is that people don't get it. They don't see what we see. What God saw. And sees. That together Ben and I compliment and complete each other. Our strengths are exactly each others weaknesses. What and who we are together is infinitely stronger than who we each were separately. And over the course of time, He appears to be chiseling away at our roles. My gavel is a little less loud and Ben's voice is a little louder!

But again, where does that leave us? When the word "submission" is voiced Ben and I just kind of look at each other and laugh. Not because I'm somehow bucking his authority. Not because he thinks I need to get in the kitchen, be barefoot and pregnant, etc (Good, by the way because I am D.O.N.E being a baby factory). No, not these reasons. We laugh because most important to Ben is the second clause of that submission verse. What the requirement is of the husband. To love the wife as Christ loved the church. Christ loved us so much he died for our sins. What greater love can there be? Man, we ladies lucked out I think. So I need to respect my husband, honor him, support him, listen to him and follow him? Check. That's easy. Submit to his leadership of our home? Again, check. But the best part is that you do both simultaneously and it becomes a little less, "Woman, make me some dinner" and a little more both people invested in each other for the benefit of the family. The guy isn't seeking only his best interests. So, again, it's pretty easy to follow and listen to a great man who is making decisions to benefit you and him together.

Maybe you disagree. And that's okay. Many people do. Honestly this is probably one of our biggest hurdles - the perception that other people have of our relationship.

That's why our most recent decision has been such a shock to many. But really, if you know us, not so much a shock after all.

Ben has decided to quit his job and stay home with the kids.

He is my hero. I couldn't do it. Both financially and mentally. We have been monitoring our finances for several months and it just became apparent that we are actually PAYING for Ben to work. Daycare is nearly $450 per week for all three kids between school and our part time nanny. Our options are limited. The decision was Ben's alone. I didn't pressure him. I didn't even tell him my opinion. It was one of the most difficult decisions we've ever made. Giving up employment at Drury just seems counterproductive. But we felt like this was the best choice for our family. And honestly we are happy. In the days after Ben gave notice we both realized we were already less stressed. Just knowing there is an end in sight to the craziness of shuttling kids, spending more time in the car then we do with our kids and racing endlessly from one thing to the next. Just insane. But there is a bright light at the end of the tunnel. And we can almost see it.

August 10 will be Ben's last day at Drury. We are so thankful to them. I cannot even explain how wonderful and patient both of our employers have been to us through this pregnancy, delivery, illnesses and tired days and just everything in between. We are just so thankful and blessed.

And thus begins a new chapter for us. Really, an entirely different life. Sam is going to Republic Pre-K part time and will be home with Ben part time. The twins will be home with Ben full time.

And boy, what an adjustment it will be.

I know we will get grief. I know there are those that think if the 'man' isn't providing then he isn't fulfilled and the marriage is doomed. I just disagree. Because Ben is providing. He is providing sanity. He is providing care. He is providing for our kids. (He also does work from home anyway already and will continue to do that for my dad's business so legitimately there will be real money coming in too). Our actual family income will go up due to eliminating double the gas, double the expenses of working and triple the daycare costs. It is a good thing.

But again, I know we will get grief. I am not a bad mom because I am working. Frankly I don't have a choice. I am the primary earner in the family and it's just the way things are. But even more than that, I want people to know that I truly admire Ben for the decision he has made. There are those that look at Ben and don't label him as the strong one in our family. But again, I disagree.

What is leadership? I did a Bible study some time ago, and when I am a part of conversations about spiritual leadership in the home and just the father role of leadership I am reminded of this passage. It is in Titus and discusses the character of leadership. My summarization: What is a leader? Someone with these qualities: Temperate, Self-controlled, Respectable, Hospitable, Able to teach, Not given to drunkenness, Not violent but gentle, Not quarrelsome, Not lover of money, Manages their family well, Children respect & obey, Good reputation with others, Sincere, Faithful, Blameless, Obedient, Not overbearing, Not quick-tempered, Not violent, Not pursuing dishonest gain, Loves what is good, Upright, Holy, Disciplined, and Focused on qualities of the heart.

Funny how these characteristics aren't regularly used to describe the "strong" men in our culture. A "man's man." That's okay with me. Friends, I hit the jackpot. There are not many qualities on that list that Ben doesn't excel at. He may not be as outspoken or demanding or authoritative. But none of those were on the list of true leadership. Instead he is compassionate, gentle and caring. He is calm. He is awesome.

I am one lucky gal. And so are my kids.

The Rubble

Toby & Gabe 8 months

Ben and I spent two entire hours today watching Big Bang Theory episodes while all three kids napped.  As we trekked upstairs and tended to the laundry, dishes, children and life that awaited us, I laughed and Ben said, "I feel it."  Ummm...okay.  What, dude?  He said it again, "I feel it.  We are getting there.  We are coming out of it. Coming out of the dark, unhappy place. Finally."  And I actually smiled in agreement.

Been trying to get into shape, which is a terrible battle I loathe, but I've found my times of running or bike riding lately have been overwhelming filled with one particular melody playing over and over in my head.  I've found that people either love her or hate her, but Sara Groves is one of my favorite artists, not just for her voice but mostly for her lyrics.  Less Like Scars has to be one of the most influential songs of my life, considering what we've been through here lately....or maybe even longer than lately. ;)

And so this post is short and sweet. I could mention the scary family vacation that we had to leave to get emergency medical care for Gabe, who ended up staying a few days in the hospital due to pneumonia again.  I could tell you about the trip we take Wednesday to St. Louis Children's Hospital to find out if there is a lung abnormality caused by prematurity that is leading to the poor little guy struggling to breathe after a small cold and runny nose.  I could tell you about the major life decisions we have made as a family that are going to be the most difficult and the most rewarding at the same time (another post coming on this one I promise).  I could tell you about work, church and family burdens weighing me down.  But instead for tonight, I'm just going to share this.  What has helped me emerge as ME.  Helped me to look past the negativity. Helped me to get my "Carrie" perspective back.  And the funny thing is, it didn't take a friend or my kids or even my husband to snap me out of it.  It just took time and God's persistent reminder as I tried to clear my head....that the storm brings rain for a reason....and maybe, just maybe, with the right perspective, we'll all come out of this just a little stronger.

It's been a hard year
But I'm climbing out of the rubble
These lessons are hard
Healing changes are subtle
But every day it's

Less like tearing, more like building
Less like captive, more like willing
Less like breakdown, more like surrender
Less like haunting, more like remember

And I feel you here
And you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
But you are able
And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars and more like
Character

Less like a prison, more like my room
It's less like a casket, more like a womb
Less like dying, more like transcending
Less like fear, less like an ending

And I feel you here
And you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
But you are able
And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars

Just a little while ago
I couldn't feel the power or the hope
I couldn't cope, I couldn't feel a thing
Just a little while back
I was desperate, broken, laid out, hoping
You would come

And I need you
And I want you here
And I feel you

And I know you're here
And you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad, bad situation
But you are able

And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars
And more like
Character.

The Hiatus

Down. Discouraged. Tired. Stressed. Weary. All words that can unfortunately be used to describe my mood the past week. Or month. Okay, okay....the past few months. In case you haven't noticed, I've taken a hiatus from the blogging world.

To be gut level honest with you all (and when I say "all" I really mean my mom because I'm pretty sure she's the only one who is periodically checking to see if I've posted anything new since it has been so long...) I haven't written because I simply haven't wanted to write what was in my head. Writing brings my thoughts to life and affirms what is really going on inside. Writing, for me, is a way of working through things and keeping the positivity. It is my therapy of sorts. It is the way I flesh out everything that I'm dealing with and organize it into a positive thought or idea. It's a way for me to make sense of the craziness and remain positive. Do you see a theme here? All positive. But writing also is truthful. It is my life and who I am. And I just haven't felt much like digging too far to see what was inside there for a while. Not feeling very positive and not really wanting to share that I wasn't feeling very positive.

Before I sat down to write this I read my last post from mid-April - about setting my weight goal (which by the way I didn't get to see myself hit because our basement flooded and I lost the Wii for a month and by the time I got it back I had a sinus infection and had to go on strong antibiotics and stop pumping, thus gaining the few pounds I lost for my birthday....sigh). Anyway, I read the last post and I was still channeling positive, peppy Carrie. Still myself.

And them somewhere along the line I stopped being able to conjure up a genuine positive mantra after the end of a long day...and a long week...and endless strings of long days and long weeks. No good. If you know me (why do I always say that because really why would you be reading this if you didn't know me...I am not that cool or interesting!!??!!!) ...so if you know me...you know that I am positive. It is that simple, really. And to be Carrie but NOT be positive? It's not a pretty picture. Just ask my husband. Or my sister. Or the many people who have seen me grumpy in the last two months. HAHA.

I wouldn't pretend to know what it is like to battle clinical depression. I wouldn't pretend to know what true post-partum blues feel like. But I can say with absolute certainty that I do not know another time in my life where I have faced such a heavy burden without my normal cheery nature. Like a cloud over my mood where no sunshine breaks through. And that's just sad.

I could write about the wonderful blessings I have been given in my three kids. I could tell you that the twins are amazing bundles of energy and full of smiles and personality. I could shriek with happiness that the babies are finally, finally, FINALLY sleeping through the night. I could go on and on about the tender-hearted four year old who is growing up so fast, stepping up as the playful and helpful big brother that we knew he would be. I could write about how amazing my husband has been with never tiring and never stopping and never failing to live this crazy life with me and my less than stellar mood lately. I could describe how I felt to cross the finish line when I ran my first ever 5K recently. I could write about how thankful I am that my sister is still making it work, living here to help out (without a cozy home or a bathroom for much of the last two months). I could write about my parents...I am literally tearing up as I even type this...without whom I would not be able to sustain my family or continue on...they have been so tremendous beyond words and provide what I feel incapable of asking for. I could write. I could. But for today I'm not. I'm going to write what's been on my heart....which is NOT (much to my dismay) positive. It is instead a wistful and weary recognition that my life is totally and completely overwhelming.

There I said it. I equate my life right now to drowning. I am swimming frantically, barely able to keep my head above water. Barely making it...surviving by thrashing my legs in an angry tread and forcing my lungs to get that air for another day....and then every so often I'm dunked. Completely under. And I come up sputtering and gasping for air and try to tread water yet again. It has been a basement flood. And illness. And financial strain. And car trouble. And more basement flood. And more car trouble. And more. And more. And more. Just when I think it cannot possibly get any worse I find myself dunked again. SIGH.

Perhaps the hardest part of all of this for me has been a loneliness I cannot describe. By very nature I'm not one to need others. I get through things. I'm the one that people know if they can't get to or call back or stay in touch with that I will be the one that is okay. The one that isn't needy. The one that you don't worry about really truly needing you because they put on their happy face and push through. It's okay. It's by my own design. I don't WANT to need other people!! But this self-sufficiency really backfires sometimes. Like lately. Dangit, there are times I just need to be needy and have that just be okay and have those people rush in and save the day because I really need it.....

So why now? Why decide to write now? Why depress you all with this dark version of Carrie you all probably hoped didn't exist? Believe it or not because I'm tired of it. I'm just tired. I am in a funk. A bad one. I can't seem to shake it and some days I just don't even care...yikes that is scary! I realize at work this probably doesn't show much. I may be a tad more cynical but for the most part my work requires an attitude of positivity. And so I deliver. Day after day. For 40ish hours. And then I come home. And unleash the beast...hahahahaha. Okay, I was getting kind of really dark there and I had to lighten it up a bit. But seriously I bet Ben would describe it like that. I am not always a nice person to be around right now. Thank you family for putting up with me!!!

I'm writing in hopes that getting this out on paper (errrr....computer screen) will help me begin to overcome. Help give me a boost. Help get out the negativity and start turning things around. I realized that something had to change this weekend. I spent the weekend doing things that would normally make me thrilled...finishing a book, being super productive, getting some actual down time, etc. All of it....still brooding Carrie. BLAH. So sick of it. Then Sunday morning at church I loved the message. All about David and how he firmly trusted God. Knew that God would provide and deliver and that His God was infinitely stronger and better than anything that came his way. Our associate pastor who was preaching made a quick comment that rattled me for probably the first time in two months of this crazy haze I've been in....he said, "Every time my wife and I are faced with stress or difficulty or a situation we have no idea how we are going to deal with we get out our list. Our list of the blessings. Of the times when God provided food and life and health, etc. And we know that despite the scary situation we are in, God has done it before and will do it again. And we are still scared. But we trust." I left church thinking all day, "Where is my trust?" I know it. I know better than I ever could have imagined how much God has provided for me and the numerous blessings he has given me. Some days though, it's easy to forget that. And I guess I have. Even still, knowing that....it's hard. It's hard to be positive. It may not be a mark of high faith, but I do believe it is the mark of humanity. Life is just pretty hard sometimes. And while we know what we should feel and think and believe...it's not always that easy to live out. But we have to keep pressing on. And I guess that's what I've been struggling with.

I spent the evening last night with a good friend who had a baby less than a week ago. As we talked breastfeeding challenges and newborn crying I had an overwhelming flood of (GASP, SHOCK, HORROR) positivity. Genuine positivity. I came home and found Ben downstairs watching TV. I laid down on the couch next to where he sat, closed my eyes and grabbed his hand and just sighed. I laughed a little and said, "Well, baby....it doesn't feel like it. It really doesn't. But we've made it. We are out of the newborn baby craziness. Do you remember what it was like? We really have made it through." It was the perfect reminder.

It hasn't slowed down. It hasn't really gotten easier...just new challenges like corralling the mobile infants and dodging carrots spitting from babies' mouths. There's not much that I can truly say is going good right now.

But still. At the end of the day. At the end of the week. At the end of the month...or two. We're still here. We are still surviving. We may be desperately treading water. We may be sputtering a bit after a quick dunk from time to time. But you know what? Our muscles are growing after swimming so long. And our lungs are holding more and more air than we ever thought possible. We're getting stronger.

And we aren't dead yet.

Hey! I just found something to be positive about.... :)

The Goal

I like goals. Not news to many. It's pretty much my thing.

As an example I made a list 20 lines long on Friday night. Sam spent the weekend in STL for a little one-on-one attention time with the grandparents and I knew we needed to take advantage of the baby naps to get some things accomplished. How thrilled was I to discover last night before crashing that all but 2 things were checked off!

Goals are great. A guide. A marker. A milestone to reach.

That's why when I subconsciously set a sleep goal many moons ago I thought surely by 6 months old, these babies would be drifting into la la land and staying there for the standard 10-12 hours a night. Not so much. One week away from having 6 month old twins and I am still only getting about 6 hours of sleep a night. Ouch. They normally wake once...or twice. And the occasional 10 times a night (oy vey!)

And so....since my sleep goals have died a painfully slow unmerciful death, I have restored this weekend to set another goal. 20 days until I turn 30. 2.9 pounds to lose and I will officially be back to my pre-twins weight. I really want to make it by my birthday, and I figure posting it on here will at least force me to think twice...or three or four times...before downing the cupcakes. Or candy. Or muffins. Eeek. I love food.

I started my Saturday off with a 3am wake up call followed by four hours of baby crying and after the first morning feeding I headed off to the gym for really the first time in almost a year. I quit my membership last March when I found out I was pregnant but I really need to do some hard core cardio to whip away those last 3 pounds. So to the non-membership freely accessible indoor track I go. Proud to say I ran a whole mile! I couldn't believe how great it felt. I am not a runner. Never liked it. But in college I ran a daily 5-10K. Seriously. I look back on that time (and my 115lb physique along with a size 2 wardrobe) with disbelief. I don't know how I did it. I certainly don't have the time to devote to that kind of exercise now. And I had much more food resolve then. Why? Who knows.

I am never going to be 115lb again. I'm okay with that. I'm going for a solid 130. Yes, that's right. I just did it. Committed the No No. I said my goal weight out loud. So if you are keeping track that is 130 by 30. Ironically I'm sitting at 133. Which is good! Don't get me wrong. This is my exact weight before I got pregnant with Sam pretty much exactly 5 years ago. Not too shabby after having three kids! BUT. I was 130 on the dot before becoming a cooker for two babies. And I want to get there again. Heck, even a little lower than that would be nice. Never again will I see below 125 I'm thinking....I can't sacrifice my sweets.

Hardest part for me in this goal is not snacking on crap food. Since I went back to work, I've tried to be consistent about taking my lunches. Wraps or PB&J are on the menu most days, and I think if I really stick to that for the next few weeks I can do this! So, please say a prayer and do a cheer.

I had several goals to reach before I was 30 and I might actually shed some happy tears if I can make this particular one happen in 20 days. And yes, this does mean I will be pigging out on May 8....what else are birthdays for???

The Fortune

I should have known. That's all I'm sayin'. About a month ago we enjoyed a delicious takeout meal from our fav Chinese place, and my ominous fortune read: Be prepared to modify your plans. Oh how I did not realize the full impact that statement would have on our lives just a few days down the road. Ironically I celebrated the fortune at the time by displaying it prominantly on my fridge for the world to see. HA.

And now here we are. With five month old twins. Having survived a serious sleep relapse, three people at the house with double ear infections, a scary (albiet short) stint in the hospital due to RSV and pneumonia with Gabe and the crazy whirlwind of the life we live.

It has taken me a full month to recover, so to speak. Have to say that I have been extremely miserable, down and borderline depressed in these past few weeks. The hospital stay really took its toll on me, and the subsequent lack of sleep for several weeks after was grueling.

Happy to report that I think we have finally caught back up to where we were...which is twins up once at night to eat but generally happy, growing, slobbering and giggling boys. Whew.

And I am finally back to the land of the living. Seems like this week my biggest problem has been that I've failed to get up at 4am like usual to workout, so my exercise regiment is suffering a bit. Need to step it up before the big 3-0 birthday in a few short weeks. My goal was to be back to my pre-pregnancy weight by my birthday. Going to need to eat way less cupcakes and really focus on working out if that has any hope of happening. ;)

A friend called recently when I was having a particularly rough day and I actually admitted that I was down....at least down for me. I am so thankful for her. Just calling to ask how I really was and offering to help seemed to snap me from the pity party and bring my attitude into "check." No, I haven't had the greatest few weeks but I am incredibly blessed. To hear myself actually tell her that I was down was just a rude awakening. In the few days that followed I thought about that conversation multiple times. She asked what she could do to help, very genuinely. And I realized that none of my stress or frustration or even down moments are caused by something anyone else can control or help with. Maybe that is what turned on the lightbulb for me. If no one else can help, then I am the only one who has to make the decision in my head to push past the negativity and embrace it. Bring it on! I can't let myself wallow in the valleys. That's just not who I am.

So I am back (thank you Mandy for the wake up call, literally!). And still tired, although skipping workouts has helped me catch up on some great sleep. But next week begins a new childcare schedule with a nanny and daycare combo, so my house needs to be in tip top shape and I will be rising with the dawn (or before) at 4am yet again come Monday to prepare for the day.

I am reminded this week how much God carries and sustains us. Even when we don't see. He puts things in our lives to make us stronger. Despite our reservations or apprehension. Despite our fears or failures. I need to embrace who He made me to be and walk strongly whatever is ahead, knowing that I'm going to look back and think how I had no idea the blessings that were ahead.

Plans? What are those. As Tokyo Mater epically utters, "I've been modified!"

The Crying

Will it ever end?

I seriously wish I could write a post one of these days that was super-Carrie-positive. Just not happening right now!!!!

The crying. Oh my. The crying. It is rough. We hit a particular bad patch tonight. Two hours of sobbing and finally Gabe was exhausted and fell asleep. That was with holding him, patting him, rocking him, laying him down, picking him up, putting him in the swing, pacifier, no pacifier, bottle, no bottle, blanket to cuddle...nothing worked. He's feeling under the weather and crying makes the cold, congestion and coughing just that much worse. No fun at all. Toby held out for a while and then gave Gabe a run for the crying prize when his stomach started cramping after the bedtime bottle. Thank you acid reflux. SIGH. Please, please, please. Babies give us a break. We are tired. We are cranky. We love you dearly, but we just can't take the crying. Someday I know we will look back on this with fondness (and so very thankful it is over) but wow. It is just rough at times. Ben said today he actually dreads coming home some days.

April asks me regularly if I am crying on the inside. Yes. Yes, I am. You just do what you have to do. And yes it is crazy. And hard. And frustrating. And wonderful (of course). I love my kids. But DANG. This crying is rough.

This weekend was one for the record books. And not the good, world record kind. No. This was the....please, GOD, let us never have another whirlwind of crying, puny sicko babies again. (Don't worry I know full well we will....but a girl can hope!)

Back to the crying....or....not crying....or not letting the baby cry.....

I have held off posting about this particular subject for quite some time, but frankly I'm in a funk and I just can't help myself I suppose. Please do not take offense. I am so sick and tired of feeling like I am a bad mom for the way I raise my kids, the choices I make and the things we do as a family. I appreciate all the mommas, my friends and family both, who have chosen to do things a little differently. Some I may think, "Hmm...well that's not the way I'd do it." But seriously, people, we have got to stop with the hard core judgment. I still love you. I still love your kids.

A college friend's facebook post sums up my thoughts perfectly and I cannot help but publish here: Women. We have to stop this silliness about the best way to be a mom. Natural birth or epidural, breast feeding or formula, cloth diapering or disposable, attachment parenting or sleep training, making baby food or buying it. These aren't questions on college applications. They don't separate the axe murders from the philanthropist. Don't shake your baby or put it in the dryer. Just give it some some love and attention and then have a glass of wine.

I love this. Truly. Love this. Lately in my life it seems like everywhere I turn there is pressure to do things a certain way, but I am not naive. Nor am I a bad mom!!!!! I don't do things just because other people do. I research. I plan. I make calculated, rational decisions about life. And so if I choose to breastfeed it is because I want to and feel like it is the best decision for me. Not because I think every mom who does formula is somehow damaging her child forever. Because with Sam I only nursed for 5 weeks. I've pumped for almost 5 months with the twins but according to some that's still not good enough because I'm not actually nursing. Come ON people. Then another one. Diapers. I admire those who tackle the cloth diapering challenge. I love that it is even fun for many, but I decided that I just am not hopping on that train. Something has to give in my life and that is it. We have not purchased a single diaper since the twins were born. I have thousands. I do mean thousands of diapers in my basement from gifts. We may actually make it to nearly the twins' first birthdays before needing to purchase diapers. No joke. And I am going to happily put those disposables on my little ones' behinds not only for my sanity but also because it is O.K.

And finally my favorite. The colossal choice: attachment or not? You all know my stance here. After TONS of research and a million other reasons I lean to the sleep training way. Basically we just do a general routine through the day of eat, play and then sleep. But nothing about having twins has followed any book or plan. It's this weird hybrid of things that work. I just think it is impossible to hold both my babies at the same time and to make sure they don't cry because if they do they are somehow learning I don't love them. Just impossible. If I try to achieve this "no crying" and "holding" or "feeding" every time they protest it will literally be impossible with two babies. At the same time, I can't do the "cry it out" method because they wake each other up, etc. I do know many a happy child that has matriculated from a loving home that leans along the attachment parenting lines, but to be honest, I feel sometimes like these mommas (many of them my friends or family) are so against doing it any other way that my choices and the results are completely void. Samuel is an amazing, happy, well adjusted and just all around great kid. We for sure did sleep training and "everything else wrong." But he is independent. AND he knows I love him. Safe and secure. Knows what to expect and when to expect it. Knows I will always take care of his every need but also knows he can comfort himself on his own. He's not a robot. He is a sensitive and caring little dude. I just cannot look at Sam and think that somehow sleep training (or any philosophy other than attachment parenting) is fundamentally wrong. There are different types of mommies. And different types of kiddos. I am doing the best I can with what I have, armed with lots of research, many examples all along the spectrum and have made my decisions. There. I said it. Don't hate me please. But please don't expect me to love all your links to the dangers of formula, the poison of Babywise and the quantity of diapers in landfills. Sometimes it is a little offensive. I'm not a bad mom. Why do I keep having to defend myself?

EEEEK. That was a little to harsh. And honest. I have wanted to write that for months but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Then I thought...wait, everyone else does! At least my blog is (fairly) private. If you choose to read and you don't agree, you don't even have to tell me .... or you can! Either way. ;) I still love you all!

So I guess instead of "The Crying" I should have labeled this post "The Brutal Honesty." The truth is I am just a working mom doing the best I can with what I have been blessed with. Some days it feels like my crazy life is simply overwhelming and impossible. BUT. Despite the lack of sleep. And lack of time. And lack of everything else....we keep going. Hoping each day is better than the previous. Happy that the twins are here. We hug our kiddos, look around our messy house and learn to love our new life just a little bit more each day.

And someone...please....give me that glass of wine! (Okay...not really. I'm not a drinker...you know that). In my case I'd end the rant with "Don't shake your baby or put it in the dryer. Just give it some some love and attention (put the kids to bed, go downstairs in peace) and then have some ice cream...or cookies...or cupcakes...(with milk)!"

The Circus

My oh my! What a life we are living. Yesterday Ben said he keeps having to remind himself this isn't punishment. HA! I agreed. We know this is a blessing, but it is HARD WORK.

So I'm the ringleader and my life is a circus. I apologize for the delay in posting - it seems that working full time and caring for my family has left me little time for....well, anything else!?! I realized today that my last blog post was the week before I went to work - a telling sign for what was to come, I suppose.

My answer for people who ask me how things are going is, "Good." I usually follow that up with a laugh and something along the lines of, "It's an adventure." Truthfully I don't know what else to say. Life with twin babies is just seriously insane. Most days I barely blink and it's time for a few hours of sleep again before we start this circus over the next day.

I am just weary. WARNING that this post is probably not a reflection of my most positive moments. ;) Read on if you dare....

Pumping at work is probably the thing I detest the most. Thankfully I have an office door that I can close and do my thing, but taking time every few hours to pump just wreaks havoc on meeting schedules, pop in visitors and a host of other things that just aren't conducive to my job on a daily basis. Not to mention that I periodically leave my pump parts sterilizing bags in the microwave and then have to rush embarrassingly to get them when someone needs to use it for food prep. I know it is my "right" to pump at work. I know it is good. I know it is nothing I have to be ashamed or embarrassed about. But in reality it just isn't something I enjoy or that works with the flow of my workday and it is the single biggest frustration and annoyance in my life. Nonetheless, I have continued. Five weeks and counting back at work and pumping on a daily basis, lugging my gear back and forth. Only a few days of torture when back to back meetings ran long despite my "scheduled" pumping breaks and I had a 5 hour or 6 hour or 7 hour stretch without relief. SIGH! And still I continue. Mostly because it is good for babies. Also because it is beneficial financially and only a tiny tiny bit because it burns calories and I am stress eating and finding it difficult to fit in more than 3 short workouts a week!!!!

I know I could stop pumping anytime. I really do know. But it isn't hurting me physically and it is SO good for the twins to have immunities and the health benefits of breastmilk I just cannot stop yet. I am aiming for 6 months....hope I can make it! In some small way I feel like I owe it to the twins to keep it up, to offer them the best I can when the rest of our life is a mess.

What else is going on in my world? Oh yes, logistics. I am not joking when I say I'm the ringleader of this circus. Up at 4am when the babies eat and I can't go back to sleep if I am going to be ready to walk out the door at 7am. Loads of baby dishes and laundry in the wee morning hours. Packing lunches, making breakfast, making bottles for the day. Loading up the diaper bag, compiling pumping gear, getting ready.....TIRED.

Sometimes when I walk in my house at the end of the day I feel like I'm seeing the last show of the circus with the ground littered with popcorn and peanuts...and elephant poo. There are dirty diapers, dishes, laundry and just stuff everywhere at my house. It is literally a constant battle to keep things clean and I'm failing miserably I fear. We play catch up on Wednesday nights while Sam is at church and on the weekends, but every moment in between we are BARELY keeping things running....my my. Again, feeling weary, overwhelmed and just tired. Ben and I keep passing each other coming and going and just looking at each other solemnly and repeating to each other, "Sorry life is so crazy right now."

There are bright spots, thankfully! The babies are smiling and giggling. They are responding to us and they definitely have their own personalities!!! It is really fun to see their differences emerge. :) Sam turned four and he is an amazing kid. Our family is complete and it is a true joy to experience.

The circus is hard on our marriage. Not in a "fighting all the time and tense" kind of way but a "we have so much going on we barely talk" kind of way. That's probably one of the roughest parts of this whole craziness. Every single moment of every day, including the middle of the night, we are just running on adrenaline and barely acknowledging each other. We help each other accomplish tasks like dinner or baby feedings, all while directing traffic, holding fussy little ones and playing Peter Pan pretend with Sam.

We got to go out last weekend to dinner and a movie and I thoroughly enjoyed our adult conversation. We even held hands during the movie...I know!!! (teeeheeeheee....physical touch?) I know, I know. What a dream! HAHA.

On the way home from the movie we talked about how crazy our lives were. How we know it is crazy and it is just our life right now. We know it will eventually get easier and things will even out a bit. We reminisced a bit about our carefree 'butterfly-in-the-stomach' just falling in love stage and how blissfully happy we were. As I reflected on that time with a smile, I couldn't help but think about the circus. We had NO clue 12 years ago when we met that this would be our life. We had NO clue 9 years ago when we got married that we'd be running the twin show and so incredibly stressed and maxed out we could barely think straight. But at the same time, we also had no clue how amazing it would be. How much fun we would be having. How blessed we were to be. And how much happiness we would share. At the end of the day, when we wearily collapse and prepare for another run at this tomorrow, I need to remind myself....the circus takes a lot of work to run, but the reward is great, the show is spectacular and every once in a while there are the moments where you gasp at the 'death-defying' feats, amazed at how they pulled it off.