You Could Be Reading Better Blogs

Every time I recount the days event's to M. he always says, "that's a great blog entry!". As he laughs and I get much needed perspective, I realize that , yes, they would be great blog entries, but who has the time?

Great potential blog posts constantly run through my head when I have time to think--in the shower, drying my hair, or during the last few moments before sleep. But then I wake up or get to work and--"poof!" they're gone.

So, dear friends, you could be reading a much better blog than this one (and probably are) ...but I appreciate your patience in sticking with me. I can't promise more frequent entries, but I'll do my best to share with you when I can. I have always thought the hardest period of twin parenthood was the relentless, sleep deprived first six months. Ha! What did I know?! I get (a little) more sleep now, but this period of talking, independent two year olds, who want different things at the same time and can throw a tantrum better than Jon McEnroe, may take first place.

Still Reveling in Normal

Couldn't resist, I had to post another photo of them playing.

One thing I want to share with you, my friend posted about this time clock in her blog. In her post she calls it 'The Green Line of Moments', it's eery to see time zipping by.

Getting Back to Normal

Tonight the toys on the floor gave me a warm fuzzy. Evidence of healthy kids at play.

We've had two weeks of what my husband termed "hell". I don't know if I would go that far, but we've had some hellish moments. I think the top one was when I skillfully caught Bear's barf in my hands, M. and I were so relieved, then as we walked away to clean up, Boo threw up all over the floor. I actually forgot that it happened that way in my last post.

Bear continued to get sicker since my last post and ended up in the hospital on Friday the 29th with RSV. His blood oxygen levels were low, and he was dehydrated. Of course, they had to run many tests on the poor guy, multiple culture swabs up his nose (while I had to hold him wrapped up in a sheet.) Blood tests: the first time it was the finger prick, then they graduated to the needle in the arm. You haven't lived until you've had to lay on your screaming child and whisper soothing words in his ear while a man in a mask slaps a turniquet around his arm and pokes around for a vein. (Our local hospital isn't that child friendly.) As sick as Bear was, he had alot of fight in him. Luckily we were able to return home the next day, with oxygen & nebulizer treatments in tow.

Bear was better within days, and like clockwork, it was Boo's turn. She never had the breathing issues that Bear had, but she had coughing fits that would nearly always end in her throwing up.

It's so hard to convey the range of emotions that a parent can feel in a few easy-to-read blog paragraphs. Concern for your sick child, frustrated and tired getting up again in the night, guilty that you felt frustrated, pissed off that the sheets & the child you just changed are now covered in vomit, peace as you realize this is what you do. Yesterday, they both were crying and wanting to be held, but are getting so heavy now that all I could do was sit on the floor, hold them and give in to the tears myself. So much neediness-- it can be so rewarding, and sometimes so draining. But then you hold them, kiss their soft cheeks, smell their morning breath, talk to them, listen to them and whatever "hell" you've been through fades away. Isn't that what nostalgia is made of?