Archive for November, 2009

Help a sista out, or at least give her props.

November 28, 2009

Look what I just did:

This is me and Snort about an hour ago – my first attempt at getting him in a back carry. I was bent over facing the floor while I tried to sort this out, and he was just laughing and laughing. I know it’s way too loose. Any suggestions on how to make it tighter are very welcome.

This is the first step in wearing both babies – one on my back (Snort, better head control) and one on my front (Coconut, lighter baby by a bit). I think I am going to need a long, long wrap. I am undecided about wearing both in one wrap, or in two separate wraps. There are distinct advantages to both.

Even with the two size 7 Didys we’ve got, I don’t think I would be able to wear both. If I put Coconut on second, I don’t think it’s long enough to wrap around Snort’s back. If I put her on first, I am not good enough with getting Snort on my back, and neither baby likes being worn on front and me leaning over…particularly with no hands to support her little head. I know I can use one of the straps to hold her, but I’m not happy about it.

I need a lightweight, superlong wrap. I’m thinking 6 metres? I don’t know. Not sure if any of you are babywearers (though I know CJ knows about it! How much? Not sure…fill me in!!), but any ideas are welcome. Hell, even if you have never had your baby out of the stroller, but think you’ve got input, let me know!!

I want to be able to wear both in the most secure way for them – but also important for me to have excellent support as I am still healing and need to be gentle with my body. ANYWAY, isn’t this super cool for a first attempt? This whole week I have been guinea pigging the babies and trying all sorts of different carries, but I know this back carry will be a keeper….after a LOT more practice.

Love to all!


I can fix anything. (I think.)

November 27, 2009

So, you thought I was ‘just’ a counsellor. You thought wrong, biotches. Oh, didn’t you know? I went to Get A Degree Overnight University and am now a registered pediatrician.

Yeah. Because there are no appointments until next Tuesday, even for 15 week old babies with eczema and fucked up rashes. WHO NEEDS CONVENTIONAL DOCTORS?? Not when I can do my own home visits, natch.

Smear some barrier cream on those tummies. If it works for their ass/willy/hoo-hah IT WILL WORK ON THEIR SKIN. Yeah. Rub it in. Rub it in real good.

Oh, her cheek looking bright red? Her forehead still have that vulcan ridge of thick dry skin? Well…..FUCK IT! Your wife will go to the chemist on the way home from work and buy all the cream that yourself, in consultation with Dr. Google, has decided she should be prescribed.

Slap some steroids on his face. Oh, sure, they thin the skin, but what the fuck, right? I mean, his face immediately flares back up into eczema the second you stop using the steroids, no matter that you are smearing him in thick layers of gasoline-smelling cream every hour. And he woke up this morning with broken, scaly skin that may or may not start oozing? STEROIDS.

So. We’ve got a combination of the ass cream, some mild topical steroids, hardcore expensive creams, no doctors appointments for miles around.

Dr. Existere will fix this shit, she’ll fix it reeeeeal good. When TMD brings the new creams and bath solutions home – because the bath shit prescribed last week has caused red bumps and braille messages to appear on two tummies – we will see which one works and then I will tell the doctor what he/she should be prescribing us. Because who needs respect for the medical profession?

Not when you’ve got two babies who apparently were born with such delicate, sensitive skin that unless you are using cream made of pure gold, it will not be good enough for them.


You shit your pants, getting poop everywhere? Yes, it took me twenty minutes to clean you, and I just now remembered that I left shit smeared on the changing mat, a shit covered outfit thrown on our nice new neutral coloured carpet, piles of shit soaked cotton balls on the nice wood changing table. Who cares? The poop is mostly off your skin, and hell, let’s just slap a lot of cream on your cootch JUST IN CASE. Barrier creams can solve anything, can’t they? They work on Mommy’s pimples, they will work on your cootch that is rubbed raw from all the shit everywhere. MOMMY FIX IT, YO.

She fix everything. No questions. No lack of confidence.

You refuse to burp? Well, fuck a doodle doo, I’ll just throw a bib on you until you fall asleep in an upright position, and then rip it off once you are asleep. You will wake up in an hour and throw up, but shit, dawg, we need to air out your paper-thin neck skin covered in that ugly, ugly rash. FIXED IT.

And you, little girl? Overnight nothing fits you? And there are no clean big girl or big boy outfits? No clean scratch mitts for him? Eh, fuck it, yo. I’ll just smell these scratch mitts that I found on the floor to see if they smell like gasoline cream, because if not it’s probably okay for him to suck on them. I’ll do laundry, MOMMA FIX IT.

Oh? Cradle cap? The one thing the gas lotion fixes. Slap it on, glue your fine blonde hairs to your head with all this gunky greasy cream. There you go. Now you look like Mama if she doesn’t shower, and your cradle cap has softened into a yellow goo. FIXED.

Giant booger in your nose, girl? We’ll wait until you throw up out of your nose, as that will push it close enough to the edge for me to be able to hook that little fucker with my pinky finger. And when I pull out that rubbery inch long piece of brown snot, I will hoot in pleasure, screaming my victory much like an old man who catches a big fish in the sea. SNOT FIX.

You won’t sleep? Crying? Mama will pick you both up and sort of juggle you around on her lap/tummy, praying to god your head won’t snap back and break your respective necks at any point. She will rock back and forth and ooze positive thoughts in your direction until you slumber. SLEEP FIX.

I FIX IT ALL. I am a pediatrician, and I won’t listen to you if you say I’m not. Now, back to the rash problem…..

Am I being selfish? I think I am just sad.

November 26, 2009

This has been a bad week, and so far it’s been a terrible day.

Things kicked off when I was working on GUGS. I went back and read some of my old blog that talked about working at camp, just to see what sort of gems I had hidden there. I unearthed something awful: entry after entry about how our marriage was deteriorating in the summer of 2002. That was a shitty, fucked up summer. TMD had always picked work before family from the start of things, and that summer was the ultimate in painful confusion. We came very close to ending things. We got through it, though, and that’s what counts.

But rereading all of that? Wow.

I remember being so angry when I was writing, my fingers pounding the keyboard. Now I don’t see anger when I read those entries, I see lots and lots of hurt. I’ve always been one to go all hard and angry when I am hurting.

So. That was just this past weekend that I read that stuff again. It was sort of shocking, particularly because we have the happiest marriage I could dream of. And things have only gotten better since the babies.

But Monday night TMD was really late home from work. I couldn’t get too upset about this because her work involves very vulnerable young people, and this was sort of an emergency situation. Then came Tuesday. She told me she had a meeting scheduled that would go half an hour later than usual. When that time plus another 25 minutes passed, I rang her just to see if she was on her way home. She said she was only just leaving work. I let loose some sort of rageful sigh and hung up.

When she was home, I escaped into the bathroom….but not before saying, ‘Do you have an excuse tonight? Well, fuck you.’ I know. Any little blogger crush you have on me is fading fast at this point.

Last night was fine, except I didn’t even want to talk to her.

All of these things are isolated incidents that happened to happen in a bad week. Why bad? Here is the meat of it, the bit you could have sliced directly to: this country does not celebrate a well known holiday. My home country does. This morning, people all over that country are waking up to a long weekend with their families.

This morning, I woke up knowing that TMD was working until 9 pm tonight, even though she knew it was this particular holiday and it was important to me. Now, working that late any night would bug me. By about 5 in the afternoon, my SPD is kicking into high gear and I’m in quite a bit of pain. And, I LOVE MY CHILDREN, but no matter how great our day has been, they are getting a bit rambunctious by about 5:30. Yesterday was an extra dollop because they wanted to eat at the same times and there was no appeasing them. So, you see, my mommy nerves are getting a bit wound up.

Plus I just miss my wife. I watch the clock in the afternoons, looking forward to the time I hear her keys in the door.

I am pissed she is working tonight. Yesterday I realised what I really want is her to not be working today or tomorrow; I want to establish traditions. We never really made a big deal of this holiday before. We are both veggies, so our traditional turkey day meal involves copious amounts of Indian food. And perhaps this potato and onion thing I excel at.

Growing up, this holiday wasn’t a big deal to my family either – but then, ‘family’ wasn’t a big deal to my family. Everyone was always screaming at each other, or ignoring each other, and having to sit around the table for dinner was usually quite a painful experience. I wanted this to be different for my kids.

TMD’s dad just called and left a message wishing me a happy day. He said he knew I was far away from my home country and my family, and he said he bet I was homesick on this days like this. He gets it, why doesn’t she?!?

I don’t know what she can do to make this better. I told her over a month ago how important this day was to me, and she still never changed her plans to work so late. I know she feels trapped into it. I know she just wants to do a good job at work. I know in another two months or so I’ll be getting no pay, and that she is the main provider for our house.

I know it, and I’m still hurt to be spending the most family of family holidays as a threesome rather than a foursome. I hate knowing that I have Crazy Woman Mind, and that every future year on this holiday I will be reminded that she fucking was absent for Coconut and Snort’s first one. (There, the crush died all the way, didn’t it.)

I am hurt, angry, hurt. Hurt.

And hurt some more.

She tries so hard to be so sweet, and I feel like it doesn’t matter because I have been sticking-power-mad all week, and there are no signs of these thunderclouds breaking any time soon. The last time I was this sort of mad was in that bad, bad summer of 2002. I generally don’t get upset about shit. We also very very very rarely fight, if ever.

This morning we were both screaming at each other. She then fed Coconut while weeping, while I sat on the edge of the bed wanting to isolate myself from her. She ripped up a letter she wrote me (which Coconut watched me tape back together with interest, as I explained to her the intricacies of letter surgery), and left a turkey day letter/pictures from the babies.

Christ. I think Snort just pooped. Neither kid has pooped in days, so there is going to be some ass explosion, bouncy chair staining, poop pants today. *sigh*

I am lonely on this day when I should be all cosy and chilled. I have to try to relax so at least the babies can have a good day.

Thick to thin Thursdays:

November 26, 2009

Weight loss this week: 1 pound

Total weight loss: 8 pounds  (plus 18 from giving birth!)

What worked this week: TMD photocopied some old Weight Watchers trackers for me, so from Tuesday I started writing things down. It motivates me, getting things on paper.

What I need to work on: Being happy I lost a pound! Life isn’t The Biggest Loser, and any pound off is a pound in the right direction.

For more information on my weight loss journey, please click ‘Thick to Thin Thursdays’ on the right. You can also join up!

Anyone with technical know how, hook me up.

November 22, 2009

I’ve got videos to show you. I know, I know, you are shitting your pants with excitement. I just need to figure out how, exactly, to get them from my camera onto the computer onto this blog. Stay tuned. Until then, a picture I didn’t need to set up. They figured this out all on their own:


I look upon you with SUSPICION.

November 21, 2009

First lessons in sharing.

November 20, 2009

Thick to Thin Thursdays.

November 20, 2009

Bet you thought I forgot about Thick to Thin Thursdays. Nope. But two weeks ago I gained weight and was stroppy, and last week I was busy shitting myself on the couch due to the swine flu. So as soon as I’ve posted this – babies willing – I’ll go update my weight loss stats. The short version of it is that as of yesterday, I am the same weight I was a few weeks ago.

I don’t know what is happening. Well, actually I do: I’m not writing down any foods, attempting to curb my eating, and I am eating a lot. I am craving a lot of comfort food. Not to mention the thought that with 14 week old twins, sometimes I don’t actually have time to eat, so shoving cookies in my mouth while warming bottles happens. Quite a lot.

A few days ago I was like, ‘Fuck it. I don’t really want to lose this weight yet. I want to eat.’ But you know what, I do want to lose it. Losing 60 pounds a few years ago gave me a taste of being normal sized (apologies to the curvy ladies out there – I think you’re gorgeous!). By ‘normal,’ I mean being able to shop in any store, feel really confident, and just generally being much, much healthier. Pregnancy with twins sort of fucks those things up, or it did for me…with the exception of confidence. I looked bangin’ when I was hugely pregnant.

All the information I read emphasized weight gain, weight gain, weight gain. And it worked. My babies were not born early, and they were a very good size for twins. I don’t regret the gain at all (59 pounds…the goal was to gain 60).

But here I am, oddly enough, a few years after wearing a bikini in public, and I am as heavy as I ever was. Heavy and weirdly flabby around my tummy. Granted, my stomach was out to HERE when I was pregnant, and then my muscles were cut through for the c section. The section also left a big portion of my lower abdomen numb, so that adds to the odd, out of shape feeling.

I want to lose the weight. I bought some clothes (I threw away all Fat Clothes when I lost the weight last time, vowing I did not need to keep them as I would not regain the weight. I kept it off, too, until the babies!) as I was feeling down wearing oversized pjs all day, every day. But I really don’t want to buy any more. I want to lose the weight, and lose it lose it lose it. I need to say that publicly, because last night’s McDonald’s sure did taste fine.

Total weight loss (I think): 7 pounds. To find out more, or to join in my weight loss crusade, click ‘Thick to Thin Thursdays’ on the right.

5ucK!t, TuRdF@c3.

November 20, 2009

More and more I have trouble reading those fucking spam avoider things. You know the ones. ‘Enter the text you see in the box. Having trouble? Click here.’

They used to be so easy. ‘BoxMom.’ ‘RedSmile.’¬† Then they went a bit surreal….’AppP3lk43,’ etc. Now they are all artistically fucking dotted around with dabs of paint, and the lettering is all wavy and messed up. It’s like they got some people with dubious creative talents to design these things, just out of pity or something.

Either that or I am going fucking bananas blind.

Our whole house smells like a movie theatre.

November 20, 2009

So. Three things.

1. Coconut’s poop switched to smelling like butter flavoured microwave popcorn about a week ago, and now Snort’s smells that way too. I love it.

2. In the middle of the night last night, Snort was manipulating his tongue and practicing new sounds. He said ‘Hello’ as clear as day and it was freaky!

3. Snort’s face is all messed up and oozing. Think it is infected exzema. We have antibiotic cream, but doesn’t seem to be working. TMD taking him to the doctor this evening. Cross your fingers for him, and for me – my heart can’t handle anxiety, apparently. I am all nervy about this!