A few photos of my gals

Hayden and his stinky sisters.

Hayden rolled over on Tuesday night for the first time. He discovered this new trick at 4:12 am and trying to get him to stay on his belly (yes, he is a tummy sleeper) after this was like trying to hold a weeble down....as soon as you let it go, it flips right back. And that is what he did. We played the weeble game last night too, only at 3:30 am. Right after our 1:50 am wake up call from Olivia (who lost her boken doo doo) and our 2:45 am wake up call from both the girls who were standing in their cribs in deep conversation with one another.

Hayden gets this certain look on his face when he is pooping. And if you don't catch that, you will notice his grunting (you can hear Ben make the exact same pooping noise if you are anywhere near the washroom while he is making one). I am sharing, because Hayden is making one right now. And guess what? The girls are napping and the wipes are in Olivia's room.

Speaking of stinkies, I am a bad mom. I hold my nose and go "Eeeewwwwy, STINKY!" when I change the girls stinkies. Then I talk about how pretty soon, we are gonna start going caca in the potty. Now every time the girls notice me changing a stinky diaper, they very clearly state "Ewwwwwwy! StINkY!". Its hilarious and I laugh and it encourages them.

Just to be a bit of a tease

My show jacket.

Because this shot makes me laugh my butt off

I told you to sit down. Scary up there aint it?

Dont push it when she is here.

I have no idea who, if anyone, reads my blog. But I am gonna go a little TMI here. I have the WORST cramps. How is it that I can get SO emotional on the days leading up to that nasty Aunt Flo and not clue in? How is it that BEN doesn't clue in? He calls me crazy. He might be right. But he experiences me completely different than I experience myself and I figure its HIS JOB to clue me in that she is obviously well on her way. Because I have to be honest here, I have three babies. I have no freaken brain. I need to buy shares in the post it notes company, because I practically need those things to remember when to go to the bathroom lately. Though, Aunt Flo has her own nasty little ways of reminding you without the need for any little yellow stickies. Either way, I feel like I could possibly bleed-to-death. Ooops. That tmi thing again. Sorry guys. I *ahem* got my tubes tied after Hayden and nothing has been the same since. Well, not only because of the tube tying I suppose. I mean, that has nothing to do with the fact that my boobs deflated. Like...you know when you have a party and you use the regular old latex balloons full of helium and they eventually start to shrink? Well, boobs do that too. And mine did. Oh yah, if I don't pay good money for a premium bra, the dang thing rides half way up and I get four boobs. Double. Just like the twins I guess. And I don't think tying my tubes has anything to do with the little world map I have going on on my lumpy tummy either. Or wait....the cellulite I am starting to notice creeping up on my thighs..or even better, the sag butt. OK, I am still pretty ok with my butt....BUT (heheh...how ironic) it IS starting to sag in the centre compared to the way it used to. Nothing is really in the right place anymore. None of that is my tubes. Nope. Its these dang kids. Why is it that the man gets off totally scott free (another LOL for those who know why that's ironic too) in that department? I mean, here are us moms, bagging out our bodies to give our husbands beautiful children, and we stress over how we look naked because we want to look good for THEM. But, who has the bigger gut out of me and Ben? Well its him, obviously. And his is (put on my best manly voice, not that hard for me though) "Bought and paid for". WHY is that so funny? Whatever. Men are from Uranus, Woman from Mars. That's my line and I am sticking to it. (making all those periods red, was really, really annoying. Period.)

I rode my horse tonight. He is a guy. Like a guys guy guy. He looks for ways to get out of work, fusses if you fart on him, and rides real well as long as he thinks its his own idea. He pees all over the place, gets a bit shy about doing it while you are looking at him, expects you to provide him with hand served meals and beverages, and whines about getting new shoes. Any woman would be in her glory to get new shoes every 5 weeks. If he doesn't feel well, he fusses about that too. He fakes a cough occasionally too, mostly to sort of make a point. Like when Ben says he is sick, he coughs immediately after. Its like...punctuation.

I got me my fishing licence today. Forecast for our fly in trip. Rain. Rain rain and more rain. Good thing I bought a rain jacket and overalls.

I better go Google landing a float plane during rain. That way I can ensure I will get a good sleep tonight.

Sex in the float plane

I just came back from The Sex in the City movie. I never watched it on tv, but I quite enjoyed it in the theatre. I am so terrible with names...but who cares, I just really connected with the lady who loved umm...coloring. She was awesome. And I must say that I am pretty sure Ben and I dont stay in the lines either. Did I just say that? Ok, yah maybe we do. See, now you are no more educated on my personal life than when we started. The movie was good even for person who was not a fan of the show. Sarah Jessica Parker is THAT good. I even wanted to bawl a couple of times (though that is becoming easier and easier to do, as of late).

So, I was chatting with a friend on facebook the other day who has been on fly in fishing trips, and therefore, float planes and asked her how the landing feels. She didn't respond until later in the day. Being the freaky gal I am, I googled it.

Most plane crashes in float planes happen on the landing (or, lets say, attempted landing). They hit the water too hard, bounce, flip and sink. The doors on float planes, as it turns out, are notoriously difficult to open from the inside once sinking in water. So, if you are a survivor at this point, there is a great likely hood of expiring when you drown with the sinking plane.

Then Jen responded

"The small planes are a little sketchy but the view is one of a kind....you might shit ur pants on the landing.....depends on the pilot LOL"

Um...yah.

So I was exhausted at bedtime last night. In fact, I don't think my head even brushed my pillow and I was already out. But I did wake with a start at 5:00 am when this comment suddenly ran through my head like a little lightening strike banner.

Why am I so paranoid?

Its the kids. I swear it. The late Dr. Holloway told me while listening to the twins heartbeats on the Doppler (which he said reminded him of ponies galloping, I always thought that was such a cute comment) that I "will never be the same again". He was referring to how my life would change because of those ponies. I mean kids. And he was right. He pissed me off, Dr. Holloway, but all the way until I had my Cholestasis, I loved him. And if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have my girls. So, thank you, Dr. Holloway, you changed my life and I am very thankful.

Hayden slept like a charm last night. He was held and cuddled all day and barely made a peep. The girls were champs today and I got out not once, but TWICE without them for a few hours.

I got most of my shopping done for our trip. Didn't take much. Some spices and potatoes. Soap and shampoo. Bug dope. Tranquilizers.

Strange kids.

I do find this online journalling (as I like to think of it) as strangely therapeutic. It seems funny on here. It didn't feel funny today. But at the end of the day, I look at my children, and they are, really....funny.

Svea is so proud to have her brother in her princess doll stroller. She wont figure out it wont move until a bit later (I had my foot on it, no way am I letting the speed demon with the nasty streak push my son around on ceramic tile in a princess stroller).


















Hayden finds this to be particularly embarrassing. Notice the "are you serious?" expression on his face.

























Svea is confused. Why wont this thing move? There has GOT to be a reason. I have some blurred shots of her frantically trying to shake the stroller loose from my toe grip. But I didn't share them just because I am feeling a bit obstinate.

Notice the girls have no shirts on. I recently made comment that my kids *NEVER* strip. I stand corrected. It started today. Hayden is the exception. He didn't undress himself, but he barfs with such great regularity that I am starting to wonder if maybe I should just leave him naked. Its easier to clean him up after all.

My Resignation. I may pull it tommorow..but its good enough for today.

My Resignation
Author Unknown

I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult.

I have decided I would like to accept the responsibilitiesof an 8 year-old.

I want to go to McDonald's and think that it's a four star restaurant.

I want to sail sticks across a fresh mudpuddle and make a sidewalk with rocks.

I want to think M&Ms are better than money because you can eat them.

I want to lie under a big oak tree and run a lemonade stand with my friends on a hot summer's day.I want to return to a time when life was simple; When all you knew were colors, multiplication tables, and nursery rhymes, but that didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know and you didn't care.All you knew was to be happy because you were blissfully unaware of all the things that should make you worried or upset.

I want to think the world is fair. That everyone is honest and good.I want to believe that anything is possible. I want to be oblivious to the complexities of life and be overly excited by the little things again.

I want to live simple again. I don't want my day to consist of computer crashes, mountains of paperwork, depressing news, how to survive more days in the month than there is money in the bank, doctor bills, gossip, illness, and loss of loved ones.

I want to believe in the power of smiles, hugs, a kind word, truth, justice, peace, dreams, the imagination, mankind, and making angels in the snow.

So... here's my checkbook and my car-keys, my credit card bills and my 401K statements. I am officially resigning from adulthood.And if you want to discuss this further, you'll have to catch me first, cause.............."Tag! You're it."

Our jungle of tears

Told you it was the Amazon Jungle here.

Today has been a cry day. The kids have cried almost all day. Sometimes all as one, or individually, or...dually. No matter how you put it, crying children make you feel one of two things. Heartbroken or irritated. Today, well, I felt more irritation. We are all tired from camp and the tears went hand in hand with temper. Svea shed a few real ones when she received a swat for belting her brother in the head during one of them. Short lived, as I heard her giggling with Olivia when she wasn't even done serving her crib time yet. When Svea gets hysterical, Olivia cries sympathy tears for her. And when both girls cry, they squeal, and it hurts Hayden's ears, so he cries too. And then sometimes, I cry too. And then Ben calls, and decides to pretend his machine broke down so he can stay a bit longer in the bush to "fix" it.

Cabin fever?

We made it to the lake two weekends in a row. I cant tell you how I love going to the lake. 4 days at home, 3 at the lake, impossible for life to get boring, and the kids LOVE it. I forgot my camera and would have stoned myself for it, only I dont like pain. But really, it was very frustrating. The girls got a new swingset with a slide. We replaced the swings with toddler ones and only wish we had gotten a set with room for 3 swings, because Hayden, as it turns out loves the bigger cooler outdoor version of a swing (even if he does scream in indignation and resentment if you put him in one of those very cool infant ones I have in my home)...... well, if I interpreted the squealing and giggling correctly, that is. Dang, I wish I had brought a camera along. They sure loved the water. This weekend the kids only stood in it with me, kicking and splashing and touching the sand with their little hands. We talked about the ducks on the water (Svea shouted "Duck Water!! Duck Water!! and pointed all weekend), we watched a beautiful storm from the kitchen window, went on family quad rides (at 11 kms/hour, dont worry), and of course, enjoyed the sauna.

Ben cried over the tip of his fishing rod I broke trying to free my purse (he did fail to mention there was a fishing rod crammed under the back seat of my truck). We did some more conversing and planning for our trip coming up. We decided to bring a small amount of drinking water and some potatoes as well as our beer and sleeping bags.

Oh yes, and Hayden completely wrecked Andrews Birthday party when he cried for nearly 3 hours straight. Eventually I gave up and packed up my brood to allow the rest of the party to enjoy some silence and birthday cake. At this moment, he is alseep. Was it the tylenol or the ambien? Your guess.

hint

(they dont give ambien quite so freely here in Canada)

:P

Margerita Mommas

I think its important for woman to have girlfriends. Even if you are married to the perfect man (ok, we all know he doesnt exist), you need a girl to truly understand mommyhood and its layers. So my girlfriend Christine and I take the occasional "Margerita Mommy" night. Wait till the kids pass out, pretend we never have heard of a thing called calories, and well, drink. Of course, like any other responsible mommy would, we only drink enough to get the warm and fuzzies (we do afterall, have to wake to our children), but we eat and we laugh and we talk smack (LOL) and watch movies. Chick flicks. Horrors. Whatever...since we usually forget to actually watch. But its great, and I had one last night, so I thought I would share.

We have had so much rain here, the grass is a mile long and saturated. Our lawn looks like the amazon jungle and Ben is paranoid to let me operate his lawn tractor for fear that I will find the rock garden out there and I dunno, eat his blades or something. Being that he only has the weekends off and we are proud cottage owners, our grass will apparently be knee length by the time it is cut. If the neighbours wine, too freaken bad (sorry mom). Ha. My mom is our only neighbour. We are bad neighbours actually. Our black lab (Ivan the Terrible) will not poop in our lawn. He goes to my moms lawn. Our sub pump hasnt stopped running in weeks, and it floods her yard. No matter to her, since she is always over here babysitting the grand children. Its a wonder she hasnt got call display yet. If I were her, I would have it and I would screen my calls. But my mother loves me and she is the very best grandmother around.

We won a fly in fishing trip through the newspaper that we are cashing in on next weekend. It is in Wabakimi, Armstrong. We fly out Sat. morning and return on Monday. I have always wanted to do a fly in trip, but I am truly scared to death about the float plane. So put in some extra prayers for us, we want lots of fish....and since they will only allow us to fly with 60 lbs of luggage each (bedding, food, clothes, bugspray, tackle and bait AND BOOZE), we will NEED the fish...because we have decided just to bring water and the stuff to cook the fish in. And beer. We can live without the rest of it.

Off to the lake.

Dummy doo doo

Thats what their Nanna calls their soothers. At first, I really thought it was a silly name for a soother, but with time, I have decided she was on to something.

The girls have only really ever used pacifiers while in their cribs at bedtime (well, once we got past the first year anyway), but lately I have noticed Svea has become almost obsessive about them. Yesterday she crossed the line to clinically insane when she became absolutely hysterical when she found a door dividing herself and her soother. I decided then and there that I was only going to have "Boken" soothers in the house after that. I "Boke" every soother with a pair of scissors I could get my hands on. Each desperate cry for a "doo doo" resulted in another "boken" one. Eventually she decided on one particular "boken doo doo" that she still enjoyed. Ugh. So, I feel like a real dummy when it comes to this "doo doo" thing. I figured I would see what tommorow brings before any further action. I took a very endearing video of her fit, but I cant figure out how to upload it.

This morning Olivia woke and we went through a very similar process.

Doubles. I have a feeling I will be experiencing dejavou every other day until the girls move out.

Hayden has been such a good boy this morning. Thought I would make note of that.

I cry everyday

I do. I know it sounds strange, especially for those of you who really know me. My friend Manda (mom of twins I speak of often from my "due date club") lost her beautiful 9 month old daughter, Aleah, in Feb. 2007. I will never be the same because of this mom and her beautiful angel daughter. She recently introduced me to a blog of a woman who lost her 3 year old daughter. Every time I read that blog, I cry. I cry for that beautiful little girl and her mom and for Manda and Aleah and for every mom who ever has lost their child. I cant stop myself from immediately imagining what it would be to lose one of my own children, and the truth is, I cannot. I can cry these tears and gasp in pain at the loss of someone elses child, but the reality is that I experience only the tiniest fraction of what these moms have endured, what they have lost, and what kind of strength they require to keep going on.

I gain so much from these daily tears, I have to tell you. I remember how truly lucky I am to have these beautiful children. Each tear, tantrum, mess, and frustration is symbolic of the life that lives on under this roof. Of how very precious each moment is and how important my job is as these kids mom. I dont want to just manage my days and make it through. I want these children to know exactly how special they are, how beautiful, and most importantly, how loved. People comment all the time on how they dont know how I do it (clearly in reference to the 3 at 2 and under factor) and I completely understand the innocence of the question. But it has me thinking...why should I just endure this as the question almost implies? I dont endure this everyone....I truly love it. And I am honoured to have this important job. How heartbreaking that in order to come to this conclusion at this point in my life, I read a blog and cry a river of tears for someone elses beautiful lost child. But, these children have impacted so many people this way. Have inspired so many moms to be so much better parents. To understand their true responsibility to their kids has nothing to do with "making it through", but rather to be a tool their child can learn to fly with.

Time to stop sucking.

Manda says I suck because I have posted 2 blogs in a year and I have decided she is right. So here I am.

I dont know what I was talking about in the last post when I said Olivia is calm and serene. Ha. She is "The Destroyer". She is sensitive and emotional and throws absolutely everything. Lately she is a nose picker to. Your nose, her nose, whomevers. She knows if she squeezes a nose, it will honk, so if she reaches for yours, you know your job. Her sister has started to walk. Sometimes Olivia sticks out a foot just in time as Svea walks by. I dont think its by accident either. Since Svea tends to torture Olivia by stealing her toys or holding her walker so she cant "walk", and Olivia has simply found a way to get her back.

Svea is one intellegent baby. Not to say that Olivia is not, of course....but Olivia is so busy grabbing stuff she shouldnt, she lacks in paying attention. Svea knows how to dissassemble things. Like the kitchen table. I noticed washers and nuts laying on the floor under the kitchen table several days in a row, which I was mystefied by. Turns out Svea has been standing under the table and working on removing them. And here I was wondering why my table was so wobbly. Daddy fixed it and its all good. But I wonder what is next? I notice her reaching for door handles now. Goody.

Till next time...

Spring has sprung

OK, so I never made a single post in the month of March. So much for the promises I made to myself to write at least once a week...I suppose those promises went wayside along with my plan to go to the gym at least four times a week. The world will go on.

Spring is here..and as per usual, my mind begins to dance with images of horses floating down the rail with style and grace...my horse specifically. Also, images of money floating away drift in and out of my mind. Gosh I love spring. It is always filled with such promise. With the exception of its poopy smell, it just might be my favourite time of year. A new beginning. This year marks the first full summer I will spend with our girls. I get to watch them dip their toes in the water at the beach this summer, wear pretty sundresses and play in the grass. I am pumped.

Svea and Olivia are hysterical. My life is complete. Svea is ornery and full of mischief and has this hysterical sense of humour. Olivia is serene and gentle and loves to cuddle. What totally different babies I have. Svea is now fully mobile. She is into everything, much like I was warned about by all those well meaning folks who warned me I would have my hands full. Olivia is just beginning to push up..she is quite satisfied at this point with wiggling across the room backward on her belly. I am not sure where her personality comes from...neither Ben nor myself are particularly calm or serene. Perhaps we will find out when she becomes a teenager. But we aren't there yet...and I intend to enjoy these next 12 years until the big 13 hits. So we wont talk about that.

Anyway, I have got to run..the girls should be waking soon and I have show clothes to order....