I get a sick day too, right?

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Have you seen the new NyQuil commercials? The ones where a man and woman pop their heads in to tell their bosses they need a sick day and won’t be in tomorrow only to have the camera pan to their bewildered children? That’s pretty much where I’ve been this past week.

Buds brought home some daycare germs that, like the plague, took us out one by one until all five of us became one giant germ.

I don’t usually get so knocked out by colds, but either this year’s germs are that much worse or my body is just exhausted,  because this cold really knocked me off my feet. Or at least it would have if I still didn’t have to take care of a sick toddler and two sick babies.

I believe that I have discovered the biggest downside of twins: double sickies taking on one sick mama. Whenever I needed to just lay down or to sleep, one of them was up, pissed that their brother had inflicted them in such a way. If I could have had some decent sleep I’m guessing I would have been better days ago instead of getting worse every day or waking up to a new exciting symptom. Oh, yay! Now I’ve lost both my sense of smell and taste.  What a great day it’s going to be!

I have friends who have asked if they’re staying home from work sick should they keep their kids out of daycare? And my answer is always good God no. It’s damn near impossible to feel better when taking care of others and Lord help you if you pass the germs on to your kids who always seem to turn the tamest of colds into never-ending agony. Instead,  drop them off and immediately crawl back into bed with a cuppa and Netflix. I so wish I could have packed the girls off to school and enjoyed my 80s classics in bed, but instead the three of us were miserable together.

We’re all turning back into semi normal human beings and ventured outside today for the first time in a week but the girls are still super unimpressed and I’m left to deal with it.

Perhaps for our next cold my doctor can put me under strict isolation orders, you know for the girls’ health. Yes. Just for the girls.

We’re eleven months old!

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11 months! Ella and Raegan, December 7, 2014 (day 331)

Eleven months! This is officially the last month before the girls turn one. Sniff. Don’t mind me, just trying to figure out where this year has gone.

What a difference a month has made for Raegan in particular. In just one month, she got four teeth, is officially crawling,  sits up more on her own (she could before but hated it), and can stand holding on to someone or something.  She’s 17 pounds of sass and chats up a storm.  We’re working on clapping and waving, but Miss Raegan does not perform on demand.

Ella is desperate to keep up with her sister but isn’t quite there yet. She is 18 pounds now, and I swear the whole pound is in her big chubby cheeks that I love so much. No teeth yet, but she also is quite the chatty lady.

Last week, the girls met Santa with their brother and both seemed fine being near a man with questionable facial hair choices. Raegan tried to pull his beard,  but as it was attached,  I put a stop to that.

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Meeting Santa! December 3, 2014 (day 327)

Unfortunately,  the black plague, or something similar,  has descended upon our house and we’ve all been taken out. The girls and I have spent the last couple days sequestered in the house being miserable.  Hopefully  we’ll all recover quickly so that we can get back out into the real world and enjoy Christmas!

The karma is gonna getcha’

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The other day, the kids and I had brunch with a friend. At least, it was meant to be brunch, but after our wait it turned into lunch. Considering the wait, heat, and how packed the restaurant was, I thought we all survived pretty well. Towards the end, Raegan lost it a bit and started crying. Not howling, just regular tired baby cries. A couple at a nearby table with their two year old turned to stare and give me the oh so annoyed look. Not two minutes later, she was full on screaming at the top of her lungs and her dad had to rush her out the door.

That, ladies and gentlemen,  is karma. People in general should be understanding of crying babies, but other parents have no excuse for throwing shade.

I’m not a religious person, but I do believe in karma. You get what you give, and it’s up to you if it’s good or bad. Of course,  bad things happen to good people, and sometimes the most undeserving get life handed to them on a silver platter.

But even those of us who have struggled,  continue to struggle, catch a lucky break every now and then. There’s so much going on that it seemed like the universe wanted to bury me in its awfulness.  But, my luck literally changed overnight.  All of a sudden, I started to get fantastic surprises. They don’t make up for the bad, but when you feel like your back could break from the weight of the world, it’s amazing to escape,  relax for a moment.

I can only hope that this is the universe’s way of telling me everything will be ok. I really don’t want to get on karma’s bad side.

It’s Christmastime in the city

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I can honestly say that last Christmas was the worst Christmas ever, and I’m counting the time I drove home from Chicago on Christmas Eve and had to deal with ice the whole way through Michigan,  a massive accident after the border, and not getting to my parents’ house until almost 3 AM.

Last year was brutal for many reasons.  Of course, I had no idea I’d be around for Christmas since I was admitted to the hospital in November. With the pregnancy I was having,  it just seemed hard to celebrate and then the ice storm had us lose power and hot water for two weeks and meant dividing our time between my parents’ and a hotel.

With me being in the hospital and the one who adores Christmas,  we didn’t even bother putting up the tree. My Christmas tree last year was the hospital’s which was decorated with notes about drunk driving. Festive.

This year, I feel like I’m combining the two years. I started my Christmas spirit way earlier this year. The shopping is pretty much done, save for my nephew’s gift, the tree is up and decorated and the music has been playing for a couple weeks.

My Christmas tree is a little Charlie Brownish, I’ve had it almost ten years and some of the lights don’t work anymore, but it’s still pretty; filled with decorations from my childhood and vacations. The kids love it, fascinated by the lights, Buds asking about the ornaments,  his favourite a wagon full of puppies.

I really do love Christmas and the feeling it brings, so much so that Ella’s middle name is Noël, in hopes that she too would be full of love.

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Winter is coming

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Due to some jerky polar vortex this week, we were all given a lovely reminder that winter is, in fact, coming.

I’ve never been a fan of winter. Yes, my favourite holiday is nestled in there, all warm and snug, but even Christmas cannot save winter for me. I hate snow, slush,  ice, and cold. But above all that, I hate having to get two babies ready for said winter.

I have to give myself at least twenty minutes to prep the stroller, get myself outfitted with various cold weather accessories,  and then wrestle two baby girls into hats and snowsuits. You would think that I was abandoning the girls at the doctor’s office instead of just trying to keep them warm the way they protest.  They look so cute in their snowsuits but the screaming is horrible and I’m pretty sure has raised a few eyebrows.

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Raegan and Ella in their matching snowsuits!

The worst part is that it’s not even winter yet. We have a full month of fall left and I cannot spend three months stuck inside the house. I will go insane. The good news is that usually once the girls are outside in the stroller, calmness ensues, but the bad news is that on really cold and windy days, I still have to wrestle their plastic rain covers on, like I did yesterday.

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All tucked away in the stroller

Maybe we’ll have an unseasonably warm winter and this blast of yuckiness was a one time thing? Maybe?  Ah, a girl can dream.

Expecting Preemies

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It’s strange to think that all us mono mono mamas are also preemie mamas. In only extremely rare circumstances would mono mono twins be born full term because of all the complications associated with a mono mono pregnancy.

I think knowing that your baby is going to be premature makes you savour every minute of pregnancy and also makes you feel cheated of the experiences that are lost and the time given up. If course,  no one knows how the journey will go, much like parenthood itself.

For World Prematurity Day, many graduates wrote about their journey,  and here is ours.

http://health.sunnybrook.ca/nicu/expecting-preemies/

World Prematurity Day

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Today is World Prematurity Day, a day meant to raise awareness about premature birth and infant death.

The statistics are staggering; 15 million babies are born premature every year and one baby dies every thirty seconds from being born too soon. Every thirty seconds. By the time we get our Starbucks,  something like 6 babies have died. I am not okay with that, and quite frankly,  no one should be.

The major cause of preemie death is lack of access to pre and post natal care. Even in North America,  many women go without a visit to a doctor until it’s too late. America has infant mortality rates similar to some third world countries.  I am not okay with that, and no one should be.

The best way for us to raise awareness of prematurity is to talk about it. There are some amazing stories like ours that should not just be shared but screamed from the rooftop. We make so many assumptions based on where we live that prematurity is no big deal, except we were thisclose to being a statistic, of only bringing home one baby, of losing Ella. So many of our mono mono and Sunnybrook families have experienced loss. I am not okay with that, and no one should be.

Research is being done every day and maybe one day they’ll be able to save a baby born at 20 weeks. Maybe one day they’ll be able to prevent the majority of premature births and its complications. But nothing will happen if we don’t talk about it.

So, today, and every day, let’s wear our purple and waive our preemie flag and share our pictures and stories so that one day prematurity will be rare and more babies will get to go home with their families and see rainbows.

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Two Babies, One Sac: My Mono Mono Twin Pregnancy | Twiniversity

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Many of you have followed our story for some time; you’ve read about our pregnancy,  emergency c-section, NICU time, and life at home.

But, if you don’t know how it all started, how our journey began, my latest post for Twiniversity covers every week of my pregnancy and explains just exactly what MoMos are.

http://twiniversity.com/2014/11/two-babies-one-sac-my-mono-mono-twin-pregnancy/

Remembering

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Today is Rememberance Day in Canada (Veteran’s Day in America) and I always tend to think about my grandparents this time of year.

Though we have family who fought in both world wars, World War II stays with me the most. Maybe because both my grandfathers fought in the war, or maybe because the unthinkable acts that occurred still hold an impact on our lives today.

My dad’s parents both died many years ago, and I find I have many memories that come to me around Rememberance Day. My grandmother had Alzheimer’s probably since I was born, and she spent the end of her life locked away in her own mind, often thinking it was the war again. She grew up in Liverpool and lost her mum in the blitzes. She met my grandfather and they were married,  she became one of many war brides who took a very long boat trip to Canada, eventually landing in Bonavista, Newfoundland. 

My grandpa fought in the Queen’s Navy, holding a horrible job of shooting bodies floating in the water to sink them to their graves. It wasn’t until after he died that I found out he had been a prisoner of war in Africa. My dad often teases me about my tattoos, saying I should be careful as my grandfather got his first and only tattoo in the war, only to have it damaged soon after by shrapnel in an attack on the ship.

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My sister and I with my grandparents

My mom’s father also fought in the war, holding an infantry position and taking part in the liberation of Holland. Much like my other grandfather,  he does not talk much about the war, but has told me the story of his unit accidentally shooting a barn in the middle of the night several times.

I usually try to pull out my poppy mid-October because I think it’s important for us all to show our thanks, our gratitude,  and our memories as often as possible. Braeden has been asking about the poppies as he sees them more and more, and so I’ve started to explain to him. He doesn’t really understand the concept of war which is a good thing. He’s not yet three and we’re lucky that he doesn’t really get the idea of war, let alone experience it.

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Ella and Raegan with their poppies, November 11, 2014 (day 305)

We only have one day that is officially a day of rememberance, but I often think about WWII and think about the sacrifices that were made, the horrors endured. My biggest hope for my children, all children,  is that they do not have to experience the same.

We’re ten months old!

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Ella and Raegan, 10 months November 7th, 2014

Ten months and the countdown to their first birthdays is officially on. Sigh. What a year it’s been and it is flying by at incredible speeds.

At their last appointment,  Raegan weighed 16 pounds and Ella 16 and a half pounds, though they feel so different in terms of weight.  I swear Ella keeps that half a pound in her cheeks!

The girls keep getting longer and are so close to outgrowing their bucket seats which is terrifying. It’s hard enough getting everyone to the car with all our stuff without having to carry two squiggly babies to car seats in the car. In the middle of winter.  Oy.  Here’s hoping we can make it a little longer.

Raegan still cannot keep still. She loves to roll around on the floor and loves toys. She’s crawled a bit, making a bit of an advance towards her toys,  of course.  She also swan dives for any food you put in front of her and shoves it in her mouth. She has two tiny teeth on the bottom and will gnaw your hand off with them if you let her. She has two personalities: smiley dimples Raegan and screaming insane Raegan, but I love my teeny tiny girl even if she does keep me from my beauty sleep.

Ella is a babbling queen. I can hear her in her crib chatting with herself through two closed doors. That girl is LOUD. She’s still pretty calm but continues to giggle with any tickle or big smooch. She’s still struggling a bit with movement, particularly in her legs,  but her right hand is no longer constantly in a fist. She is not able to feed herself yet but absolutely loves food. The girls love them some ravioli and garlic bread and I’m so glad the days of pureés are over.

We have a new play-based program for Ella that starts next week and a follow-up eye appointment to monitor the pressure in her brain to ensure that her eye will not be damaged.

We’re starting, ok I’M starting,  to get in the Christmas spirit and cannot wait to have new traditions for our party of five.