gringa diaries

early

2006-08-01T04:01:00.000-07:00

No time for a real update*, but I had to share this:

Rite Aid is ready for Halloween! I kid you not. Was walking by the local Rite Aid last night and was shocked to see their window full of goblins and ghouls, pumpkins and spiderwebs.

*We hired a nanny. I started work. We're moving out of our current apartment on Friday and into our new one God knows when. (So we're essentially homeless. ) Henry has a tooth. Jack is up on his hands and knees trying to crawl. I'm still 25 lbs away from my pre-pregnancy weight- 10 months later! It's supposed to be 103 degrees today.

time to get a second crib

2006-04-28T05:57:00.000-07:00

When I went to check on the babies a couple of mornings ago, Henry had Jack in a headlock. With his feet!

They love sharing a crib*, but are becoming more mobile by the minute. Not to mention bigger and stronger. I think it's in everyone's best interest if we get another crib.

And move it out of my bedroom.

The brother to brother chit-chat is adorable. But not a 5 in the morning.

*I know this because even though my children are too young to actually speak the words, "we love sharing a crib," I am their mommy. And Mommy's intuition is the best.

wrong answer

2006-04-20T11:20:00.000-07:00

Taking Henry and Jack out for a walk in the double stroller is a bit like taking a walk with a movie star. Or how I imagine taking a walk with a movie star might go. Some people gawk and stare. Other folks try to play it cool and simply nudge whomever they're with and raise an eyebrow in our direction. They may even whisper "Look. Twins!" on occasion. And for the most part, these people don't bother me.

But then there are the autograph seekers- those people who feel that Henry and Jack (and I, by extension) are public property and who are certain that we have nothing better to do than to have a chit chat about the joys of multiples. These are the folks who ask the questions I have come to dread: Are they identical? Do twins run in your family? Where did he get those blue eyes?

The inevitable question, no matter that both boys are dressed from head to toe in blue and blue, is "are they a boy and a girl?" And today, dear readers, when asked "Male? Female?" by a sweet old man with a strong accent, I answered, "A boy and a girl". It was only after the old man said "Good, good," did I realize my mistake.

I couldn't very well correct myself. I mean, what kind of mother doesn't even know the gender of her own kids? But I can't help but wonder what kind of response I would have gotten if I had said "Two boys".

"Oh. Not so good. Boy, girl is better."

the dumbest question ever asked

2006-04-13T06:22:00.000-07:00

her: So, are they identical? fraternal?

me: Fraternal

her: Were they identical when they were born?

me: Um, no. They've always been fraternal.

milestone report

2006-04-06T07:47:00.000-07:00

It's been a banner week in the Gringa household. First, a full-night's sleep and then this:

Henry rolled over yesterday. From his back to his tummy.

Now, it only happened once. And chances are he won't repeat this particular trick ever again. But it was pretty damn cool.

Oh. That sleeping through the night thing? A complete and utter fluke. Last night I had the pleasure of getting up at 3, 4, 5, and 6. Let me tell you there's nothing like waking up every hour on the hour and returning to bed only to find that the dog has stolen your spot.

yahoooooo!

2006-04-05T05:55:00.000-07:00

Both boys slept through the night last night. I said: BOTH boys slept through the night last night. I got to sleep in until 6:00 this morning.

Hallelujah!

It was my first full night's sleep since October 30th. Not that I'm keeping track or anything.

six months old

2006-04-04T06:32:00.000-07:00

happy half-birthday, jack and henry!

anyone still there?

2006-03-30T06:03:00.000-08:00

It's been a dog's age, I know. Can we pretend the reason I haven't written in over a month is that I lead a fantastically busy life and between the book club meetings, gallery openings, brunches with friends, cocktail parties, and let's not forget playgroups, I haven't had a spare moment to cobble a couple of sentences together?

I cannot tell a lie. I do not belong to a book club and haven't read anything other than trashy chick lit since my children were in utero. The last gallery opening I attended? No lie? I think it was in New Orleans, circa 1997. I did manage a one-on-one brunch with a dear friend back in January and I've been known to throw back a couple of cocktails in the privacy of my own living room once the kiddies are safely in bed. Playgroups, however? Every week without fail. My Friday playgroup is my saving grace. The thing I most look forward to each week. When did I become this person for whom the most anticipated social event of the week revolves around drooling infants laying on blankets while new moms snack on pretzels and chocolate donuts while we compare notes on pediatricians and nursing bras?

It's not going to be this way for long.

I'm going back to work. Not to the job I last posted about oh so many moons ago. When I showed up at the interview for that gig, I was told that it was only a part-time position and that the pay was abominably low. So even if I had gotten the offer, I wouldn't have taken it. So there.
No, my new job has a semi-fancy title and a bit of prestige and I think it will be challenging and interesting, but not so emotionally draining that I'll have nothing left for my family at the end of the day. Or so I tell myself. We'll see.

I still don't have a start date since the bureaucracy that is human resources has yet to call me to make my appointment to fill out all the boring paperwork required of all new employees. And to tell the truth, I don't mind so much. The delay on their end just means an extended maternity leave for me. I'm secretly hoping that they won't get their act together until May!

That said, I am excited to go back to work. I honestly think that I'm just not the kind of woman who is cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. I don't have the patience. I don't have the creativity. I tend to feel bored and distracted more often than I care to admit. And then I feel guilty for feeling bored and distracted.

I'm hoping that by spending less than 24 hours a day with my children and my husband, I will be a better mother and wife to them. In my wildest dreams, my arrival home from work each evening will feel like coming down the stairs on Christmas morning. And weekends will have that glorified special status once again as opposed to being just two more days of the same old same old.

I am well aware that I am romanticizing the life of a Work Outside the Home Mom, just as I used to romanticize the Stay at Home option. And I know, too that I am rationalizing my return to work if only to make this decision less guilt inducing. But I have to do what I have to do. I just hope that this truly is what is best for my family, my children, for me. At least for now it feels right.

opportunity knocks

2006-02-20T04:33:00.000-08:00

I have a job interview on Wednesday. For a job I really, really, really want if they're willing to pay me enough money to make up for the guilt I feel for leaving my babies at home in the care of someone other than me. Which, by the way, wasn't supposed to happen until this summer at the earliest, but preferably next Fall when most major baby milestones (sitting up, rolling over, standing, eating solid foods, the first teeth, and possibly even walking and first words) would have already happened on my watch and wouldn't be events I'd be hearing about second hand.

That said, as soon as I saw the posting for this job (which has a kick-ass title, by the way), I fired off a cover letter and sent off my resume before you could say "A Perfect Madness". And when I got a reply a mere 4 hours later saying they were "delighted" with my resume and would I come in for an interview next week, I put the boys in their bouncy chairs, told my husband to hold down the fort, and ran off to Ann Taylor to buy a new suit faster than you could say "nine months on, nine months off".

So, Wednesday is the day. Two more days to internally debate the whole working mom vs. stay at home mom thing. Two days to figure out how easily I'll be bought. I'll let you know how it goes.

uurp!

2006-02-14T06:06:00.000-08:00

Otis the pug loves spit-up. He loves the smell of it, the look of it, the taste of it. Lucky for him, he has 2 very spit-uppity babies living in his house so there are plenty of opportunities for him to get a taste. My floors have never been so clean!

Otis' new spit-up related trick? When he sees that the babies are about to be burped or hears the uuurp sound, he runs right over to catch whatever may be coming his way. He's so well conditioned that the sound of a baby's bubble will wake him from a nap.

Of the twins, Jack seems to beOtis' favorite and I'm willing to bet money it's because Jack has Henry beat in terms of frequency and volume of spit up.

blizzard 2006

2006-02-12T12:19:00.000-08:00

Daddy and Jack

Otis

Mommy and Henry

quickie

2006-01-30T07:05:00.000-08:00

No time to write these days. My husband is out of the country for 2 weeks and despite the fact that both my mother and mother-in-law are here to help me out with the boys, I feel more stressed, exhausted, and put out than I normally do.

Still, I've managed to take a couple of photos of my guys.

They are smiling and laughing and talking like you wouldn't believe.

three things: one bad, two good.

2006-01-19T07:07:00.000-08:00

1. ALTE (all-tee) is medicalese for Apparent Life Threatening Episode. And one of the criteria is that the parent is scared that his or her their child might die.

I learned this little fact last week at the emergency room (of all places) where we ended up taking Henry after he experienced an ALTE of his very own.

Here's what happened: It was an unseasonably warm day here in NYC, and I took the babies out for a walk in the park across the street from my house. We got home about an hour and a
half before my baby and me yoga class was scheduled to begin and I put Henry in the crib so that I could feed Jack. The plan was to then feed Henry, pack a bag, change into exercise clothes, and head off to class with Henry. But while I was feeding Jack, I heard Henry crying in his crib. I went in to look at him and he was foaming at the mouth, making gagging noises, and had turned a frightening shade of blue. I yelled for my husband (who happened to be home) who ran in and scooped up Henry. By then, Henry had started breathing again, albeit irregularly. And he had gone from blue to pale. I called the visiting nurse service, not certain if this warranted a call to 911 (after all, he was breathing again) who told me to call my pediatrician. The pediatrician said to bring him right in and without restocking the diaper bag or putting jackets on the boys, we headed for the doctor's office.

Henry was seen right away by a doctor (not our usual doc who was off that day), but another woman who seemed prefectly nice and concerned, but not alarmed. She heard our story, examined Henry, and sent us off to the ER for a series of tests "just to be sure".

At the ER, Henry was examined by a million different doctors, we told the story of the episode at least 25 more times, and the attending on duty told us that he needed to be admitted. The most likely cause of the ALTE? Either RSV, reflux, or an unknown factor. Poor little Henry had to have blood drawn and a mucous culture to rule out a viral cause. He had to have an EKG to make sure the ALTE wasn't cardiac related. And finally he was admitted.

Henry and I spent the night in the hospital. He slept through the night ( a full eight hours!) in an institutional crib- the type you might find in an orphanage. I slept fitfully on a pull out sofa made up with surprising soft hospital linens. In the morning, Henry and I were wheeled to radiology for his head ultrasound. In the afternoon, a neuro tech came by to glue 100 little electrodes to his head to monitor for seizure activity. Henry was visited by med students, by residents, by carology fellows, and neurology specialists. And everysingle one of them asked to hear the story, listened to his heart and lungs, checked his reflexes and then pronounced him seemingly healthy and normal.

When we were discharged on Friday evening, the diagnosis was reflux and Henry was sent home with prescriptions for Zantac and Floven (a steroid for his lungs). My gut feeling tells me that even if Henry does have reflux (and he probably does), the reflux wasn't the cause of the ALTE. Still, I dutifully give him his meds twice a day, felling guilty as he gags and cries thru the whole routine. And I run at the mere hint of cry, praying that I will never ever find him blue in the face again.

2. I've started a playgroup. Well more like a new mommy group since the babies involved are too young to actually play. Our 1st meeting is tomorrow afternoon and I'll let you know how it goes.

3. Jack's first non-reflexive smile. He smiled for his dad yesterday while Henry and I were at the doctor for his follow-up appointment. And then for me this morning when I tickled his cheeks and cooed at him.

This picture isn't the best- my camera wasn't quick enough, but you get the idea.

Edited to add:

He just gets better with practice.

grounds for divorce?

2006-01-12T06:44:00.000-08:00

Over the past few nights, my husband has taken to kicking me in the middle of the night when one of the babies starts fussing to be fed. I called him on it this morning and he denied it. I graciously allowed that maybe he did it subconsciously in his sleep. And then? He said no, that wasn't possible because he was actually awake this morning and wanted to kick me, but didn't. Just lay there pretending to be asleep to see how long it would take me to attend to hungry little Jack.

Arrrrrgh!

Would it really kill him to feed a baby in the middle of the night? I mean, really. Isn't that why God invented bottles and formula?

knock on wood

2006-01-11T09:36:00.000-08:00

We've instituted a new bedtime ritual in the gringa household that goes a little something like this:

Bath
Massage (with lavender& vanilla baby lotion)
Pajamas
Bottle
Story
Swaddle
Pacifier
Lights out.

And all the while, lullabies play softly in the background.

From start to finish, the whole thing takes about a half hour. As soon as baby #1 gets out of the tub, my husband begins the massage and I bathe baby #2.

We've only done this for two nights so far and so while I'm terrified to jinx it, I also feel compelled to announce that Henry slept for 9 hours last night!! In a row!! And Jack only woke up once.

Please, God, let this continue.

confessions of a frazzled new twin mom

2006-01-06T06:33:00.000-08:00

1. I gave up on trying to breastfeed Henry and Jack weeks ago. When they were in the NICU, I pumped every 3 hours on the dot and refused to allow a drop of formula to pass their lips. But after they were both home, there was not as much time to sit and pump and they weren't good enough at nursing to get all of their meals at the breast. So now? They're 99.9999999% formula fed. Except for Henry who gets to comfort nurse every once in a blue moon if he's really fussy. Like yesterday at Baby and Me yoga.

2. I've given up on keeping pacifiers and bottles separate. If one of the babies is hungry or needs a non-nutritive sucking device, I reach for the closest bottle or binky- I don't care whose mouth has been on it last, as long as it's not the dog's.

3. I forgot to pack clean diapers and spit-up cloths to take to Baby and Me yoga yesterday. The result? A sopping wet Henry fussing through the 2nd half of class (See #1). The worst part? I didn't even excuse myself to go home and change him. And I wouldn't let my yoga instructor hold him while I tackled a pose that needed both hands because I didn't want her to know that he was wet.

4. I let both boys hang out in the swing and vibrating chair for extended periods of time, so that I can cook or eat, or get dressed. They are always strapped in, but sometimes only semi-attended to. I mean, I'm close enough to see them, but not close enough to touch them.

5. I haven't given either of them a real bath in weeks. They get their faces, necks, and hands washed daily. And their diaper area, too. But it feels like too much work to strip them down entirely and put them in their little tub. They get so darn slippery!

6. In order to cut down on trips to do laundry, I've upped my threshold for clothes covered in spit-up (theirs and mine). If it's not soaked through and we're not going outside, it stays on.

My new year's resolutions? To be a more prepared, more attentive, and more hygenic mom in 2006. Really.

three months old: a progress report.

2006-01-04T09:30:00.000-08:00

Henry and Jack are three months old today. And they are about 56 times bigger than they were when I took that picture of them in their snowsuits. Okay, not quite. But they are growing.

Henry had a doctor's appointment this morning and his doctor was quite impressed with his size. He's now a whopping 10 pounds, 5 ounces and according to the little growth chart, that's right where a below-average baby should be at 3 months. He's finally on the charts! Prior to this visit, he didn't even make it to the below average line. And let's not even mention Jack's sub par performance in the growth department, except to say that it is sub par no longer.

Jack finally outgrew his preemie clothes a couple of weeks ago and both boys are
actually filling out their 0-3's. Henry will be ready to move on to 3-6's in a couple of weeks, I'm sure. But for now, I'm enjoying dressing them like twins for as long they're the same size.

Still no smiles other than the reflexive ones that make me crazy with anticipation for the days they'll grin on purpose. But they look around and fixate on stuff: my face, their mobile, stuffed animals, each other. And they grab on tight to things and don't want to let go: my face, stuffed animals, each other.

Henry has learned to sleep for 6 or 7 hours at a time during the night and I am anxiously awaiting the day that Jack decides to join him in the land of nod. Until then, I should be grateful that they both nap well and that Jack only wakes once at around 4 am during the nights.

I fall in love with these little guys a little more each day. Who knew I could love them this much?
The smell of their little heads gets me each time. I want to bottle that scent and carry it with me always.

merry, merry. happy, happy

2005-12-24T07:45:00.000-08:00

jack is home

2005-11-09T15:24:00.000-08:00

We picked him up this morning and its been non-stop ever since, so please forgive me for not writing a longer entry.

henry comes home tomorrow!

2005-10-30T19:15:00.000-08:00

And there's lots to do to get ready for him.

Mommies: any last minute advice?

progress

2005-10-21T07:04:00.000-07:00

Last night when I went to the NICU to visit the boys, Henry was out of his isolette and in a bassinet! At first I didn't even realize that he was my baby. Thought maybe they had moved him to another part of the room. But the nurse on duty assured me that the bundle in the bassinet was indeed Henry and told me that he's "moving up". Music to my ears.

I think he'll be coming home soon. "Soon" being a relative term meaning sometime before Thanksgiving. But the evidence is this: He's already 4 lbs 3 oz. He's on full feeds (38 ccs of milk every 3 hours). I was taught how to give him a sponge bath last night (trickier than it looks). On Monday, he's going to start nippling (learning to drink from a bottle and a breast). And he's out of that damned isolette!

I unplugged all of his monitor wires and carried him over to Jack's isolette and the 3 of us just sat and chit chatted for a couple of hours. Heaven!

So now little Jack needs to take a cue from his big brother so that he can get on the road to coming home too. Oooh, I can't wait!

two weeks old

2005-10-18T09:21:00.000-07:00

The twins are two weeks old today. I can hardly believe that I was being prepped for surgery at this very minute exactly two weeks ago. And that now I am a mommy. A mommy with a full two weeks experience in the mothering practices of the NICU.

I have been doing my part in taking care of the boys. I don't do as much as the nurses which leaves me with a strange and guilty feeling, but I do change diapers, wash faces, take temperatures, hold hands, rock and cuddle, read and sing. It's motherhood light on the caretaking parts, heavy on the emotion. Bonding with Henry and Jack has taken a bit longer than I anticipated, but we're all getting used to each other and falling a little more in love with each other everyday. At least I am. I shouldn't put words into their mouths. But I can say for certain that they recognize my voice and touch. Both boys open their eyes when I greet them through the porthole in their isolette. Neither of them cry when I slowly and clumsily change their diapers or attempt to swaddle them in a hospital issue receiving blanket. Not so when the nurses (as kind and as gentle and as efficient as they may be) do the very same tasks. It may be a small thing, not crying for mommy, but it means a lot to me.

Both Henry and Jack are doing well. The big news yesterday was that since both of them are off of supplemental oxygen, have no more IVs, and are eating like horses (okay, miniature ponies), they have been moved from the blue team to the green team. Which means they are not considered sick, just small. To use the NICU lingo, Henry and Jack are feeders and growers. They're essentially hanging out in the hospital eating and gaining weight. In a couple of weeks we'll teach them how to drink from a bottle, from my breast. My husband and I will practice giving them baths in a tub, dressing them. We're moving, they're moving in the right direction. Towards coming home.

In the meantime, I have to log in a few more sessions with the breast pump each day to accomodate the growing appetites of my growing boys.

early arrivals

2005-10-12T14:37:00.000-07:00

Henry and Jack are here!

They made their way into this world 10 weeks early- on October 4th, at 9:25 and 9:27, respectively. 10 weeks early!

On Friday the 30th (the day before my scheduled baby shower), I went to my OB for what I thought would be a routine blood pressure check, but was sent right to the hospital by ambulance. My blood pressure was sky high. I was retaining fluids like crazy and was immediately diagnosed with preeclampsia.

Fast forward a couple of days (past the scary vaginal bleeding and dramatic drop in blood pressure) to early Tuesday morning when I woke up unable to breathe. A chest x-ray showed fluid in my lungs. My almost empty catheter bag showed that what was going in wasn't coming out- signs of kidney malfunction. I was delivered by c-section just a few hours later. Luckily, I'd been given steroid shots upon my admittance so that the boys lungs would be strong. And they are.

So the boys in the NICU and will be there for several weeks. It was hard to leave the hospital without them, but I know that they're getting the best care possible. And the silver lining in this cloud is that I can sleep through the night and can recover from surgery so that when they do come home, I am caught up on my rest and am no longer sore.

Despite their small size (Henry was 3 lbs 8 oz. and Jack was 2 lbs 9 oz. at birth), both boys are doing well. Eating a bit more each day, breathing on their own. We visit them often and read to them, sing to them, talk to them, hold them and love to have our fingers squeezed by their tiny hands.

It's a bit surreal to no longer be pregnant. To suddenly be a mother. To suddenly be a mother to 2 little ones who aren't ready to come home. But My boys are little cuties (if I do say so myself), already with distinct personalities and I look forward to watching them grow.

just not that into me

2005-09-20T09:05:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I met with a potential doula recommended to us by the woman whose apartment we are subletting. We liked the doula a lot, but weren't 100% sure that we wanted to use a doula at all since with twins, there is a 50% chance that I will have to have a c-section and an almost 100% chance that I will have to have an epidural.

Anyway, when we said goodbye to the doula, she let us know that her schedule was filling up and that we should let her know in a week or so whether or not we wanted to work with her. I definitely did. My husband wasn't so certain (for the reasons mentioned above). So he and I talked about it for a few days, went to our first childbirth class, and ultimately decided that yes- we wanted to use her.

I called her last Monday (a day before the week deadline she gave us) and then tried to wait patiently for a return call. When I didn't hear back from her in a couple of days, I sent her an e-mail. Still nothing. She called last night to tell us that she's booked. She can't work with us. That after our meeting a couple of weeks ago, she had the impression that we weren't going to go with a doula after all.

I'm so disappointed. Probably more than I should be. She did give us the contact info of the two women she works with. And I do still have about 10 weeks until the twins' ETA. So there's still time to find a replacement. But I can't help but feel rejected. I've been pursuing this woman since late June and (perhaps I should have taken this as a sign) since late June, she has been slow to return my calls and e-mails, but when she finally does get around to calling me back, she's been so apologetic and nice.

And I fell for her. I really did. Though now I am second guessing myself thinking that it's not that her schedule is full, it's that she didn't love my husband and I. Doesn't care whether or not we have labor support at our birth. She'd rather have an uninterrupted Thanksgiving holiday than spend it giving me back rubs and reminding me to breathe.

I called and left a message for one of her cronies last night. Will wait exactly 3 days for a call back before I give up on their little enterprise and take my business somewhere else. The only question is: where?

stuck

2005-09-12T14:25:00.000-07:00

Does anyone out there have a fool-proof way to remove a ring that's become lodged on a swollen finger?

Stupidly, I waited a couple of weeks too long to take off my wedding and engagement rings and now they are threatening to cut off all circulation to my left ring finger.

I've tried cold water and soap. I've tried twisting and I've tried pulling. I'm starting to think that the only thing that will work is cutting the rings off. (Though I have to be honest, I am not completely opposed to that idea. Am thinking it could mean an upgraded wedding band as a "labor day" present if I play my cards right.)

Anyway, hurry with your advice and suggestions. I figure I have a couple more days before my finger turns blue and falls off.