Baby Airs

"You know Brett, you don't have to make a show of it, you can just fart without leaning or scrunching your face."

Well, there is nothing like a newborn lifting their buttocks, leg, or twisting in a strange stretch just to let one rip and prove to you that boys can't help it. It's either innate, or genetic. 

Better than Disneyland.

I know, I know-- years of marketing have sold you on the lie that Disneyland is the happiest place on earth. It's not. The changing table is the happiest place on earth. Nothing else has consistently calmed tears or caused instant giddiness for my boys as consistently as the aforementioned changing table has.

 Seriously. Even at a week old the changing table was the bees knees.  

Also, I'm pretty sure the ceiling fan is their best friend. Especially the ceiling fan in the Master bedroom. More specifically the mirror image of the ceiling fan in the master bedroom.  

Then there is their "other mother."  She lives in the mirror too (but don't worry, she does not have button eyes).  I'm pretty sure they love her more than me too. They had most of their first conversations  with other mother. So, I figure I'm either prettier in reverse, or they --like Alice-- are quite drawn to wonderland. 

Baby Brett

As a child, Brett would save up his money for Lego's. When we go to my brother's house, Brett will often disappear with N's boys and play Lego's with them for over an hour. At first I thanked him for being patient and playing with the boys, but then I learned that he'd rather be playing Legos with children than socializing anyway.  When I was pregnant he admitted that while he really didn't care whether the babes were hes or shes, he hoped one of the twins would be a boy so he could buy Lego's (I'm pretty sure the Legos will be more for daddy than for the babies).  I told him he could play Legos with them if they were girls too, but I don't think he believed me.

 Now that he lucked out with 2 boys, I've oft heard him mutter about how disappointed he'll be if the boys don't like Legos (may they never bring such shame upon their father's good name).

So count it as no surprise that when I sent him to the store for a gift for a seven yr old, he came back with Legos, even though we are on a budget and saving for a down payment. You can't skimp when Legos are involved. 

Speaking of Brett's childhood, I kinda wonder about that kid. We got "thing 1" and "thing 2" onesies as a gift, and yesterday Brett said "oh that's real? It's from something?"

I explain its from Cat in the Hat.. He still looks confused. "You know, he kept them under his hat?"

He didn't know. 

Just like I had to explain what I meant when I said " I can't kiss you right now, you know, 'cause if you give a mouse a cookie..." 

Ya, he'd never read the book. I'll spare you the analogy (too late, huh! It's already seared in your mind), but I made him watch this lovely reading of the book on YouTube (With bonus sound effects!).  

It's read by Carol Kane, and WELL worth your time. 

Well the boys are now 2 months old, and daddy has moved back into the master with mommy. I insisted on sleeping in the same room as the boys for a while, else I was sure I would never sleep between feedings. I was trying to have him put the crib and guest bed in the same room for me while I was on bed rest so he could have the big bed and sleep well for work, but he didn't want to deal with rearranging furniture. So he put the crib in the master and  took the couch until his mom left, then he had the guest room for himself. 

When the boys got pretty good at night, he slept with us once or twice, but gave up on it, even though they didn't cry when I got up (I'd feed/change 'em when I heard them stirring).

When I asked him about this weeks later, he said " I can't sleep 'cause I hear them breathing, and when I don't hear them breathing I can't sleep."  Yup. That made it hard for mommy to sleep the first week and a half too. 

On the subject of stuff that has nothing to do with babies, Brett said the most insightful thing yesterday. I wanted pb cookies and b told me to put peanut butter on a cracker. 

Me "peanut butter on a cracker is not a cookie!"

Brett "if you can stick a feather in your hat and call it macaroni, then you can put peanut butter on a cracker and call it a cookie."

Well played Brett, well played.

Word of the day

Macaroni: an 18th-century British dandy affecting Continental fashions.

Summer Vegetarian

I have a choice for what I accomplish in a day. If I take a nap (luckily most days I don't need one 'till about 8 when it is too late) usually nothing else gets done.  When I did the sewing projects, nothing gets picked up, tidied or cleaned. When I clean, like I did yesterday, I spend the whole day hungry or living off of leftovers (if I have any)... Hence why my blogging has been pretty lacking. It takes away from naps, cleaning, etc.

So I've figured out that I can blog from my phone during nursing sessions when I just have one boy hanging on me. Finally a way to catch up on things I've been wanting to write,.. Though I'm limited to pics on my phone. This is why I took pics of dinner tonight. 

---Zucchini boats and stuffed Brussel sprouts.  In the future I think I'll just casserole them. After all, who cares if their boats if no one sees them. ---

About the time I started neglecting my half done sewing projects, I began to raid pintrest for ideas to cook "vegetarian." I was getting sick of  meat, oddly, so I thought I'd try doing mostly vegetables for a while, which is tricky for me. I can't just eat simple veggies. Things like tomatoes don't excite me on their own. I have to turn it into some kinda production.  

So, that's one of the things I've been up to lately. Been learning to cook again after using pregnancy as an excuse to be lazy with food.  I feel really productive when I cook, especially if I got dishes done too. One week was almost all vegetables, and if I hadn't snuck bacon into the potatoes and zucchini, it would've been an actual week of vegetarian living. 

So, while this girl still needs a bloody steak from time to time, she's finding she can't live off of just meats and breads for very long anymore. I'm thinking its the milk makers stealing all my nutrients and giving it too the babies.  Greedy milk makers, making me eat veggies. 

Ye milk makers

I did it. I finally finished the bulky nursing pads.

 It took a day of somewhat neglectful parenting (wait, they only need attention when they are unhappy, right?), but the pads are done.  I've been going through so many disposables, that I hardly think these will be enough. 

I've been learning about he awesomeness of wool and now I'm thinking I should just have tossed these and made some wool ones instead.  2 pair- one to air dry while I use the other. Wash when milk solids make it stiff. 

things I never thought I'd say:   (a day or two after my milk came in) "excuse me mam, do you have any of these back there in a double D?"  

They didn't. How did they not have nursing bras in double d?  The way I see it if my not so largies transformed into dd milk makers (when full), a lot of other women need  something way bigger.  This is where I tell you I actually had to leave the dressing room for a larger size 3 times before I figured out my new ideal bra size combination. I found the whole thing a little overwhelming. And disturbing. I was a little bummed. 

In other news, I think I had a clogged duct the other day. I was worried about it turning into mastitis, which my mother was prone to, but one of the 10 things I tried musta worked 'cause  they're good now. No more bruised feeling milk makers.