Veggie Garden Update

Looks like it may finally be summer around here. We'd spent most of May and early June being cold and rainy - unseasonably so. Now it's crazy stormy weather (migraine inducing weather) and hot. The vegetable garden is finally producing

lettuce,

basil,

The squash forest, v 2.0.

straightneck yellow squash and zucchini.

It seems that I pop out there every other day or so (in between torrential downpours) and check in on the current growth of the plants and weeds. So far, the plants are winning, but the weeds are giving it a real go. (Just don't ask me about my flower gardens, because I just don't have the time/energy for them this year. I'm gonna have to suck it up at some point and get in there with a...hatchet, but not right yet.)

The corn is getting taller, which is gratifying. My green beans are still working out technical issues. Most of my first planting didn't seem to sprout - probably because it was too chilly. Now I'm debating whether I should sow another set.

Oh, I also learned that once you plant tomatillos, you never have to plant them again! I had all manner of tomatillo plants popping up all over, and ripped them out. I'm still ripping them out, since they keep showing up all over the place. I let 3 remain at the base of the corn bed and that should be plenty.

In Tomatoville, I find that if I don't get out there at least every other day, the tiny secondary sprouts that show up between main stem and branches get big really, really fast. So it's pinch! pinch! pinch! and tie! tie! tie! I learned from last year that I have to keep tying the plants up and pinching back the excessive growth to keep them in check.

So far, this is working like a charm.

I've been checking in on the Black Krim and the two tomatoes on there so far are now the size of a quarter (by the end of the day, the size of a half dollar) and growing quickly. I think keeping the number of tomato plants down to a more reasonable ten has made a big difference, as well as just having them all in one bed without anything else (well, except for that volunteer potato - but that wasn't my fault, per se.). I'm feeling pretty confident that I could reach in and grab tomatoes from the middle. At least, I could at the moment - if there were some in there. Ask me again in August when I forget to check in for 3 or 4 days and then we'll see how easy it is.

The tomato-in-a-pot is doing well, too. This is my experimental tomato plant. Can I grow a full sized, indeterminate Cherokee Purple tomato in a 24" pot? Let's find out!

In bell pepper land, I still had some space, so I shoved in 5 more bell pepper plants. I may come to regret this later when they're all full sized, but it's hard to just let them die on my deck! This morning, I even popped two more into a pot that looked a little empty, so we'll see how that goes, too.

Oh, I learned a little something about lettuce this year: you can never wash lettuce enough.

Once? Laughable. Twice? Not nearly enough. Thrice? You might be getting serious about it at this point. Four times? Quite possibly enough, but you'd better double check every. single. solitary. leaf. because one caterpillar/maggot/creepy crawler on your plate is one waaaaay too many.

Trust me.

I don't spray and I don't have superfine row cover, so insects are inevitable. However, once they cross my threshold and hang on through three separate washes and still make it past the "final" inspection and wind up with dressing on them? Well...that's just freaky. Plus, it makes me sad to toss a perfectly yummy salad, complete with bell peppers and strawberries into the compost bin.

Ah well. Live, learn and garden!

How are your gardens doing?

Poop-capades

Now, everyone has a poop story, it's true. And it's a pretty gross thing, to even have a poop story, but they appear to be inevitable.

Like laundry.

Oh, and death.

Yesterday, I was in the basement, listening to the twins wake up. Generally they wake up laughing, giggling and squealing at one another. We usually let them stay in their cribs until they reach the hollering stage, since we like relaxing without short people grunting, "Ehn! Ehn! Ehn!" at us all of the time. Well, the laughing turned to crying and I heard Eric get up and go to the twins' room.

Then, after a pause in the screaming, I heard Eric cry: "Help!"

I finished up quickly and jogged upstairs to see Eric pulling all of Logan's blanket's out of the crib. On entering the room, my nose was assaulted by that smell. Logan had pulled off his poop-filled diaper and tossed it out of the crib. There was a little poop here and there.

Yuck!

However, they are twins. There are two of them.

We'll never know just who started it, but over in Emma's crib, there was a similar scene. Only...worse.

Emma was backed up against the wall, wearing only her shirt. Her hands were out to either side, unmoving and looking horrified. She had also removed her diaper, only hers was still in the crib, along with smears in a semi-circle in front of her, next to her, on her clothes and all over her feet.
The Poop Monster had come for Emma.

I saw her poor little shocked face and burst out laughing. Then I started the bath running. Bathtime!

I'm kind of hoping they were traumatized enough that they won't do it again. A girl can dream!

And no, there are no photos. (Although I did think about it. Heh heh heh!)

Baby-quinox

Today marks the day that the twins have been outside just as many weeks as they were inside: 38.

"We're how old?"

I've gotta tell ya, they're a lot easier to carry on the outside than on the inside. My lower back is much happier now! And you should see my arms! Woo! Slow resistance training! It also helps to carry them both around, so that you have a balanced workout.

They are very sweet, funny and fun to watch (Unless you're trying to get something done, then there's the crying!). They're mobile and making lots of interesting noises ("Mom! Mom! Mom!" says Emma.) and doing lots of interesting/dangerous/acrobatic things. They eat regular food, like the rest of us, just cut a whole lot smaller.

"Did someone say Food?!"

Except for the usual suspects, of course. No honey. No nuts. No peanut butter or chocolate. They're still nursing, but they also like their diluted apple juice in a sippy cup.

They love their big sister, even if she's sometimes a little mean to them. They adore their mom and dad, even when we put them down for naps (Oh the humanity!). Logan is still the first one to flirt with strangers, while Emma watches carefully. They both get worried if someone they don't recognize picks them up until they're ready to be picked up and comfortable around them (Sorry Grammy!). The kitties excite them and put up with being grabbed at for the most part.

Hey Canon! I got yer advert shot riiiight here!
Logan's fees are reasonable, he says.

They, however, would likely complain about the fact that now they have wants and needs that aren't immediately filled. Hungry? Tired? Cold? Lonely? Wet/Poopy? All of these are sensations that I cruelly imposed on them by evicting them from the womb. And what is all of this "waiting their turn" crap?! They want their mommy NOW!, not once that other baby is done. Life is tough and twins...twins gotta get used to crying.

Although, truth be told, Emma might admit to enjoying a decided lack of being kicked in the head.

"Dat's berry true."

It's been a wild rollercoaster ride: scary but fun. There's even been some puking (Glad that stage is over!).

Upside-down smoochies.

Still waiting for uninterrupted sleep, though. One day. We'll get there one day.

Right?

Right?!

[Crickets]

Ice Cream or "Ice Cream"?

I love ice cream! Don't you? Mmmm!

There are certain vendors that I love(d) to go to as a kid, the one sporting 31 Flavors was key among them. Now though? Umm...I think we've come to a parting of the ways.

Jamoca Almond Fudge

Ingredients: cream, nonfat milk, chocolate flavored ribbon (corn syrup, water, high fructose corn syrup, cocoa processed with alkali, modified food starch, propylene glycol, artificial flavors, potassium sorbate (preservative), carrageenan, salt, propyl paraben (preservative)), sugar, roasted almonds, corn syrup, jamoca extract (coffee extract, sugar, potassium sorbate and methyl paraben (as preservatives)), whey, caramel color, cellulose gum, mono and diglycerides, guar gum, carrageenan, polysorbate 80.

The following ingredients are all made from corn (I'm currently reading Michael Pollan's book: The Omnivore's Dilemma. Wow! Get a copy!):

For modified or unmodified starch, for glucose syrup and maltodextrin, for crystalline fructose and ascorbic acid, for lecithin and dextrose, lactic acid and lysine, for maltose and HFCS [High Fructose Corn Syrup], for MSG [Mono-Sodium Glutamate] and polyols, for the caramel-color and xanthan gum, read: corn. Corn is in the coffee whitener and Cheez Whiz [Eww!], the frozen yogurt and TV dinner, the canned fruit and ketchup and candies, the soups and snacks and cake mixes, the frosting ans gravy and frozen waffles, the syrups and hot sauces, the mayonnaise and mustard, the hot dogs and the bologna, the margarine and shortening, the salad dressings and the relishes and even the vitamins.
-- The Omnivore's Dilemma, pp. 18-19.

So, with that handy list, the "ice cream" includes corn in 7 of the ingredients that I recognized. Also, why are there parabens in my "ice cream"?!

There I was, thinking I'd gotten rid of them in my skin care products and they're in my food?! I even noticed recently that there was methyl paraben in my toothpaste! And it's from Nature's Gate. Not so natural, the Nature's Gate, I'm thinking.

From the Environmental Working Group's website Skin Deep, Propyl paraben: 4 (Moderate Hazard) is implicated in developmental/reproductive toxicity, allergies/immunotoxicity, endocrine disruption, organ system toxicity (non-reproductive). Um. Oh. Oh dear.

When did we stop eating ice cream and start eating all of these chemicals? To me, ice cream is cream or milk, sugar, vanilla, a pinch of salt, eggs and whatever variety of fruit you wanted to throw in (or chocolate).

I guess I shouldn't be surprised, and yet I am. Must be time to break the ice cream maker back out and start making my own ice cream again. It's a bit of work, but at least I know what's in it.

I'll be sure to skip the step that suggests adding the propyl and methyl parabens.

Argh!

Chocolate Milk Is Not a Decongestant

And other things You Need To Know.

Thanks to your well wishes and $24 worth of pills (so far), I feel way better than yesterday. Yesterday I felt like I was wrapped in heavy wool. Not scratchy, though, so perhaps cotton would be a better description. Only, not cotton like sheets (300 count is very nice), more like the cotton they stick in bottles of pills. Why do they do that?

I'm feeling loopy. Not even a fun kind of Whee! Good cough medicine! kind of loopy, either.

So we went out to dinner tonight.

What can I tell you? My decision making is shot and when Eric and Caitlin both said they wanted to go, I didn't have any braincells left to rub together to say, "Uh, no thanks! I can't taste anything other than sweet, salty, sour, acid and cardboard, so going out to dinner will be completely wasted on me. Let's not!" But did I say that? No. Couldn't. Had a feeling there was a reason why I didn't want to go (other than the fact that, oh I don't know, I've got the influenza virus wreaking havoc with my system) but I couldn't get the words out. I'm still foggy, but doing a lot better.

So we went out to dinner. Emma was awake and complained about being left in her car seat. I pulled her out and sat her on my lap and she immediately turned into an octopus. There were arms everywhere, I swear! Grabbing for napkins, knives and forks, water glasses, and the plate my hot chocolate came on (I can pretend I can taste chocolate. Orange juice tastes like battery acid. Even water tastes funny and toothpaste tastes horrible.). Once she had hold of it, she did what comes naturally to babies: she shoved it in her mouth.

Caitlin, upon seeing Emma ingesting a plate as big as her head made the unfortunate mistake of laughing while drinking chocolate milk. The chocolate milk came shooting out her nose.

Now I know that commentors are forever saying (on other blogs, not mine, I'm just not that funny I guess) that the author has made them laugh so hard that they sprayed coffee/coke/water/other bodily fluids out of their noses and onto their keyboards and screens and I never knew whether to believe them or not. After having seen what happened to Caitlin, I've gotta tell ya, if you can actually make distance to reach your keyboard/screen? Then you must be laughing really damned hard. You oughtta be careful out there: you could bust a gut. Fortunately for all of us at the table, Baby Octopus included, Caitlin didn't make any distance at all but did look very surprised.

My dinner, lobster ravioli (Which tasted like...? Salt.), will be hibernating in my freezer until my sense of taste returns, because to not taste that?

Is just sickening.

Songs of Sickness

Influenza B
What are you doing to me?
Eight dollars a pill?!

Next year get the shot,
Can't be any worse than this.
Fever. Chills. Mommy?

Misery 1, Hatchet 0

Guess who's sick now? Go on! Guess!

If you guessed me, you'd be correct!

Why I don't just dance through the spray Caitlin leaves behind as she sneezes and just get it over with, I'll never know. No! Instead, I spend days being just fine and going about life as normal and each time I think: "Hah! I'm not getting sick!"

Then, just after Eric has given in to the Germ Parade and is in recovery mode, that's when my body gives out. Apparently, it really wants to share in the fun that can only be experienced by being just as sick as everyone else. I'm empathetic! Really! I'd prefer to just watch the illness happen, rather than participate. Is that so wrong?!

The "best" part about being feverish and sick? The fact that since I'm nursing it means I never have a chance to be on my own and wallow in my illness. Everyone else gets to go to their room and sleep it off, but I'm still on duty. The Milk Bar is open 24/7 around here, no matter how horrible I feel.

And lemme tell ya: I feel horrible.

If this is somewhat what it's like to have arthritis, I'd like to put in a request to skip that part of aging, thanks! What sort of evolutionary purpose does it serve, anyway, to wander around feeling like you've been beaten with sticks across every joint you have while ill?

And if I have a fever, why am I in turn both freezing cold and burningly hot? Hmm? Why?

*whimper*

Well, as they say, the Family that is Sick Together, Sticks Together.

They say that, don't they? Well, they should.

*cough, cough, hack!*

Updated to add: turns out that I'm running a temperature closing in on 105 degrees. I guess I'll be going to the doctor tomorrow, assuming I don't spontaneously comb--

2 out of 3 children say: Ah-choo!

Welcome to Hatchet's House of Suck! Where you, too, can get a 100+ degree fever and hang out!

Logan is sick. We noticed right away last night when he didn't let us sleep AT ALL. And felt pretty warm. He was like a little hot water bottle baby. Mmm. Warm!

What is it with kids getting sick at night and on the weekends?

His burning desire to see the inside of an emergency clinic was thwarted by early morning hours at our pediatrician's office and because he never spiked a temperature over 101.5. Clearly his puny efforts (100.4) weren't enough.

Logan however, thinks he's dying. He has a Man Cold.


He even started planning out his tiny will.

"I wants to be berrid wif mah blankie an' mah yewwow puppy and sum chew toys. Like a Pharoah Kingy-thingy. I coulda been A KING! Cut down in mah yoof. Dis a tragiddy of epic 'portions!"

Emma failed to be sympathetic. "Whatchu 'plainin' 'bout? I gotted a cold when Ah was only a week old! Dis is nuffinks!"

Logan, in between moaning and slamming his head into my collarbone, cut her out of his will, "Jus' for dat you get nuffinks! Nuffinks for you! I take all my toys wif me! An' you be sorry when I all gone." Cough cough. Moan.

"I sorry. You mus' be really sick." Pat, pat, pat. "Ya big baby."

Nineteen Weeks

Emma set two records today. Largest number of clothing changes in a single day: 7. Most baths in one day: 3.

It started off simply enough, she spit up on herself a little this morning. Not wanting to smell her for the rest of the day, I changed her outfit. Then there was a massive diaper blowout which necessitated a bath and change. After that, another small spit up, but larger than the first one. Then a big one, into my lap. The one after that was all over Eric, leaving him needing a shower as well as her. Then another, which wasn't too bad but needed a clothing change. She finally fell asleep around 10pm, but the threw up on herself while sleeping and needed a bath. And finally (?) just now, down my shirt as I started this entry. Which left me needing a bath and Emma wearing yet another set of clothes.

Emma says, "Bleaaargh!"

I share because I love!

Actually, it has been fairly vomit free in these here parts for more than a week, so I wonder if something is up? She isn't running a fever and is as happy as ever, but I wonder if she managed to pick up a stomach bug from Heather? I only suggest that because Heather was tossing her cookies today and had been over yesterday, snuggling babies. Hmm....

Anyway!

The twins are doing all sorts of cute things these days, although sleeping through the night has not been one of them. They've both been waking up at 3 or 4 am, which leads to insanity. Mine.

Zzzzzz!

Instead, there has been an increasing amount of laughter on Logan's part, especially when we swing him up into the air over our heads. This also doubles as exercise since they are essentially Military Presses with Infant. Fourteen pounds doesn't sound like a lot, but it adds up quickly because every time I stop, he cries. So I have to keep on going until he's willing to stop. It takes a lot of Presses for him to be tired of them!

Daddy is funny!

Logan's skin has healed up very nicely from the eczema (Mentioned here when treatment with new super strength cortisone started and the first time here.). As a matter of fact, that stuff worked like a charm! His skin is perfect! Soft as...baby skin should be. Emma is great, too, but she never went on to the heavy duty stuff. We just slathered her down with regular lotion about 4 times a day. It's so much nicer and they aren't ripping at their skin any longer. As a bonus, the weird red spot on the back of Logan's head has cleared up through repeated applications of the cortisone and he's no longer trying to scratch while falling asleep. Yay!

I feel so much better!

Emma started flipping over the easy way last Thursday (week 18). She startled herself the very first time she did it, in the crib, while I was folding laundry next to her. This means, of course, that she's completely unsafe to leave anywhere but the floor or a crib. She's a tiny tumbleweed. Logan still hasn't figured out how to flip over the hard way, but I have faith that he'll figure it out.

Emma's latest cool new trick? Crawling backwards.

Or scooting. Whatever you want to call it, she starts out here and ends up over there, very frustrated since the toy has gotten farther away from her reach. Do you know what this means?!

It means crawling is just around the corner.

Time lapse spinning. Photos taken every 30 seconds. Crawling not too far away. Eek!

I'm done! Pick me up!

Caitlin started out the same way: backwards for a couple of weeks and then forwards. I guess we'd better get the house back into baby-safe mode! Logan is gonna be jealous!

The milestone I don't think I'll ever forget, though was Babies First Caucus. How cool! It was there that I also discovered that Logan likes crowds while Emma doesn't. We were surrounded by folks and while Logan was busy flirting with anyone that smiled at him, Emma was getting overwhelmed by all of the folks trying to smile at her. I had noticed that at the doctor's office, but thought it was a fluke. Guess not!

Something interesting: a lady from the Market gave birth to a girl the day before we had the twins. I ran into her last weekend (Oof!) and noticed that her daughter's eyes are in the process of changing from blue to brown, while Logan's are still vibrantly blue. I guess those baby blues are here to stay. It's always fun having to explain Mendelian inheritance to the general public when they start looking at me funny again (Both Eric and I have brown eyes. Although mine are starting to look greenish. Weird!). So now we have green, blue and brown-eyed children. Fun!

Little Blue Eyed Boy.

Both Emma and Logan are starting to take interest in whatever I'm eating. They aren't at the grabbing-my-food stage, yet, but when they get there we'll be ready. For that matter, we've decided to make out own babyfood this time. Firstly because it will be cheaper, but also because both Misty and Swistle made it look easy. Which led me to this site.

Chomp!

But now it is very late (or extremely early: 1 am) and I must attempt sleep.

Photos tomorrow.

He got me

I spoke entirely too soon on Friday.

First thing on Saturday morning, I was tandem nursing and Logan got me. He really scored, too, since he also got Emma's arm. He was assisted in his perfidy by his own father, though. Eric held him over me when I yelped for help. Something about not wanting to get the bed messy and since I was already covered...what's a little more?

Personally, I think he was trying to get back at me for the last vomit job was all over him.

Traitor!

Whose side is he on anyway?!

Ninja Illness

Have you ever noticed that during the times when you're sick enough to lose your voice and no one can hear you anymore that apparently they can't see you any more, either?

I am Ninja!

With laryngitis.

There you are, stuck with one crying child in your arms and another in a swing and you're waving your arms madly at your 6 year old as if you're trying to catch some air and she can't see you. Now, this is mitigated by the fact that she's reading and you know she can't hear anything while she's reading (apparently an inheritable trait from moi), including your desperate Psst! Psssst! Now you sound like a tire expiring upon the road, but you cannot be heard over the cries of twins.

Now what?

Now, of course, you pound on the table like you're trying to make a point in debate class. When that doesn't work, it's time to pound on the wall like an inmate trying to get out.

An inmate of the loony bin, of course.

Where else would you find such a sight? Wild eyed, wild haired, PJ-clad woman desperate to escape.

To the bathroom.

I think I might have to produce some paper signs to wave about.

I spent all night tap-tap-tapping Eric on the chest like that famous Raven, only there would be no croaking Nevermore! from my throat. Whispering just doesn't have that oomph, ya know?

Tap tap = Get the baby.
Tap tap tap = Take this baby.
Tap tap tap! = Get the other baby.
Tap tap tap tap = Take this one now.

Booting with feet didn't go over well, I noticed.

So here I sit, trapped in my own silent movie.

I am a game of charades gone entirely wrong.

You can call me Froggie

My voice, it is going...going...gone!

I am sick and have lost my voice and my will to blog.

OK, just temporarily!

Scream a little scream of me

I sure hope Santa's bringing me a decided lack of vomit tomorrow because I've just been thrown up on by both babes within 15 minutes of on another.

Logan just screamed his way through a bath.

Good times. Good times!

On the bright sides, my cards will all be finished tonight and one person received it before Xmas. Hand delivered!

I must now go and refuel abruptly emptied infant tanks with milk.

Happy Christmas! Merry Festivus!

Waking up on the right side of cute

Emma is in a good mood this morning. She's smiling and cooing and perky. She was so busy smiling and proto-laughing at me that she couldn't nurse. She's been sleeping really well lately: 4-5 hour spans. Unfortunately she hasn't taught Logan this trick, so he's still waking up every 3 hours.

Weep!

Last night we went to dinner for the 2nd time with the twins. They did a great job: Emma slept through most of dinner, while Logan woke up, nursed and then hung out quietly while we ate. So far we've racked up two lunches and two dinners out, it's incredible!

Going out to eat with them is like playing with fire: you never know if or when everything is going to explode into a horror of screaming and wailing and destruction of personal property. I was worried because you never know when they are going to vomit. Sometimes I can tell and burp them before they erupt, other times I am just as surprised as they are and just as covered. I've been doing better with covering them with a Vomit Deflection Device (aka a receiving blanket) and have gotten pretty good at turning them away just in time to avoid getting covered myself.

But you never know.

I was also concerned about going out to a busy restaurant and being conspicuously on display in the center of the room. Having to nurse in public is not high on my list of desirable Lifetime Achievements. While I have done it and will do it, I don't especially like it. Add in the fantastic frisson of fear one feels, wondering if their offspring will cover themselves, the floor and me in sour, curdled milk and you have a recipe for tension only relieved by making it out of the restaurant clad in the same clothing I had entered in, with my clothes in their original condition.

My concerns were immediately put to rest when I saw our table: we were placed in the back corner of the restaurant in a little alcove. I sat to the left with my back to the main part of the restaurant, secure in the knowledge that I would be less likely to flash the world my workin' breasts when someone woke up. Someone would, it was just a question of who.

In the end, it was fine! Dinner was good: embarrassment and vomit free. Many thanks to Pop Pop and Nana Sue for taking us out.

Later that night back at home, of course, both of them threw up on me one right after the other.

Figures!

Baby Games

This one is called:

Things the Twins have Thrown Up On (So Far)

• Eric (lots)
• Hatchet
• The bamboo floor
• The carpeted floor
• The swing
• The vibrating chair
• The comfy chair
• My bed
• The sofa
• The car seat
• The car seat with the Bundle Me insert
• Ellen's quilts
• The bathroom
• The co-sleeper
  
• The cat (Domino, of course. No I'm not kidding.)

Oh and as a hot tip for those new parents out there: if your baby starts throwing up/spitting up (Whatever - the goo coming out of their mouth.) do not attempt to relocate the baby by running with it to the nearest sink. That will just result in you covering the distance from here to there in spit up as well as the initial Splash Zone. Just take it. You are easier to clean than the carpet, no matter how grossed out you are.

By the way, the same rules apply to poop and/or pee. Those of us that attempt to dodge [*cough* Eric *cough*] just wind up having to clean another surface.

You have been warned!