Twenty one weeks

A year ago I attended this very same Ag conference while pregnant and starving. I had no idea it was twins (found that out a month later), but couldn't get over how different it was from my first pregnancy.

Now, a whole year later, I brought Emma to her very first Ag conference. Two days of water rights this and soil web that, leaving Logan behind with Eric to work on the bottle training. Two and a half days of sort of feeling like I only had one infant instead of two.

Two! Two infants! Aiee!

Know what I learned?

Breasts that are producing somewhere in the vicinity of a gallon of milk a day really miss that second twin. Even with sporadic pumping and trying to get the local twin to nurse like mad (She wasn't interested), it's gonna hurt. Ow! Ow! I sat in the bathroom, on a ledge/seat that was slowly collapsing, with breasts that considered exploding and taking the entire conference with them or jumping in the car and racing back to the other twin that surely loved them and missed them and understood their pain. Meanwhile, in a house far far away from said conference, a little boy was taking a little more milk than previously out of a bottle so long as it was cold.

And eating bananas.

Yummy!

Crying and eating bananas. Not crying because of the bananas, but because I wasn't willing to hold him in my lap at the same time. As if!

Yummm! Bananas! And crying. Two great tastes....

I like it! Gimme!

Logan has started eating solid food. And by solid, of course, I mean squished up bananas that if looked at too long make one want to hork up lunch. Do not look directly at the bananas. Consider this a safety tip. We knew Logan was ready from all the grabby grabbiness he's been displaying for us. No, that plate of Crab Rangoon is not for you, little boy! Eating solid food does not mean starting off with steak and ice cream. You'll just have to build up to those items slowly, just like your big sister.

Emma, on the other hand, wants nothing to do with solid food and is very happy still drinking her breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, tea time, snack, dinner, snack, snack, snack, and early morning pre-breakfast snack. She did, however, enjoy licking Heather's golden delicious apple this morning at the conference. She jams everything she can into her mouth, and when the apple was offered, jammed it into her mouth willingly and then pulled back to consider this bizarre non-finger offering. Determining that it was a Good Thing, she jammed it back into her toothless cavern and proceeded to squick me out by the contented licking and gumming she engaged in.

I have a messy hands "thing", so I'm really glad that I wasn't holding the apple, just the happy apple juice and drool covered baby.

Bananas: Do not want!

I'm thinking...I'm thinking...

Are you people serious? This is "solid" food?

Nah. I'll wait for steak.

Bleah!

Likes bananas juuuuust fine.

The twins have finally gone back to something approaching their normal sleeping pattern. Both will fall asleep around 8:30 or 9 pm and Emma will sleep until 4 or 5 am. Logan, unfortunately, will still wake around 12 or 1:30 and then twice or thrice more (2ish, 4ish and 6 ish) before we just get sick of it and get out of bed for the day.

Where's my baby brick?!

Both babes are working on sitting up on their own, but Emma seems to be leading the way. She has slid over and gone Bonk! before I could catch her plenty of times, but considering how close she is to the floor anyway it's never as damaging as it sounds.

Alternatively, I could be entirely wrong and she's killing off vital baby brain cells and now won't be smart enough to cure cancer by the time she's 18. If that's the case: I'm sorry World!

Emma enjoyed her 2.5 days away from home and was the recipient of much admiration from the other Aggies. When we returned home again, Logan was so excited to see her that he freaked out and did the electrified baby boogie. He smiled and smiled and smiled at her and was more interested in looking at her than in nursing. I think he missed her!

And I have to ask you this:

Since when did "good baby" become equivalent to "silent baby"? I got more compliments over how "good" she was than nearly anything else. She definitely received her share of "sweet", "cute", and "happy" compliments, but the good baby = silent baby comments made me feel kinda funny. She did squee and squeal from time to time, but that only got us indulgent smiles. When she got upset (i.e. hungry), we'd leave the room to go nurse. Is that weird? Am I weird to think that was weird? Am I weird to wonder if I'm weird to think that was weird?

Weird, huh?

My cuteness goes to eleven.

My cuteness goes to...uh...twelve!
(Thanks to Dan for the shirts.)

Yes, I am the "good" baby. I have a Squee! setting. Let me show you it.

Yup. we're just like that

Today's XKCD comic.

Things to do when I grow up

We should totally do this at my next birthday party!

If you read this on the wrong date (i.e. not today), look for the entry for Thursday, Feb 7th.

Eric says...

After a long, hard day alone with Logan and a sick Caitlin (whilst Emma and I were off at an Ag conference),

"I'm going to the store for chocolate chip cookies. I deserve cookies."

Sez me: "OK. Oh, and pick up orange juice and mint chocolate chip ice cream"

As he exits into the garage, Eric cackles "Bwahahaaa! You fools! You should never have let me go! I'm free! To Mexico!"

Umm...should I be worried?

Wordless Wednesday

Logan "helps" Eric play the guitar...

and discovers that music sounds better than it tastes.

Bite me!

Not you. Logan.

He bites and pinches, and frankly if you were to do that, the friendship would be over! Tonight he pinched me so hard, on either side of my breast, that I am now bruised. He pinched me so hard that I had a hard time unclenching the tiny fists of pinching power to release my mangled mammary.

Breastfeeding is so fun. So fun that I've made you a list.

Things I Love and Hate about Breastfeeding

Hate:

1. The 6-8 week "break-in" period. Don't try and tell me that it won't hurt if I get in some magical position that is somehow unattainable by mortal woman. Breasts are sensitive and those that have never performed actual work before and are suddenly required to hit the ground running with twins are going to hurt.
2. Thrush. May I never have that again. You neither. That sucked. Although the gentian violet purple mouth thing was pretty cool looking. In a weird sort of way.
3. Biting. Thank goodness no one has teeth yet.
4. Pinching. Dammit! Stop!
5. Poking. Ow!
6. Pulling. What am I, taffy? Stop it!
7. Spraying all over everything. Apparently my children, Logan especially, like to take milk baths and I am to provide the milk.
8. Leaking and dripping. In bed. Out of bed. Doesn't matter. I'm soaking in my own puddles. Bleah.
9. Vomit. Milk that goes in too fast, comes out too fast, as well.
10. Paranoia. Am I making enough? is the perennial question of newly breastfeeding moms. Makes you crazy.
11. Being on call 24/7. No one else around here is lactating so I'm always on duty. Eric's not trying very hard to lactate, either. I've suggested it to him but Noooooo! he says. Phooey. The flip side, of course is #8 below.
12. No chai. Sniffle!
    
13. Being exposed in public. I'm all for breastfeeding whenever and wherever you need to, but Logan has this terrible habit of suddenly pulling and then popping off just to take a look around. Dude! You're 4.5 months old! Ain't nothin' to see that won't be there when you're either a) no longer nursing or b) old enough to actually know what you're looking at!
14. Having a cold belly.
15. Tandem nursing. When the twins are awake and I try tandem nursing there are often one handed wrestling matches that take place on my chest. These often lead to the popping off and crying of one or both twins with twisting and arching of backs. Nursing is over when that happens.
16. Feeling trapped. Whether I'm tandem nursing or just one, I often feel as if I'm stuck to the chair.

Love:

1. Getting past the "break-in" period. Suddenly you feel like a pro and that maybe this breastfeeding thing is just as cool as everyone says?
2. Being patted and stroked.
3. That fuzzy sleepy feeling you get when everyone is nursing well.
4. Looking down at happy, sleepy nursing babies. They're so cute! Too bad I can't photograph the specific look I'm thinking of. My camera is too heavy to work one handed at arm's length.
5. Watching the twins grow on breastmilk alone gives me a powerful sense of accomplishment. That fat roll? Yeah...I did that!
6. Weight loss! Duuude! I've lost 61 pounds in 4 months and while I seem to be stuck on the last 4 pounds, I'm wearing my regular clothes again. Yeeha! As the weather warms up I'll be out walking more and more and the last few pounds will come off. Assuming I don't go crazy with the scones, that is.
7. No bottles to wash. The flip side is #11 above.
8. Being able to knock an exhausted baby out with the Power of the Boob is a super power every nursing mom can claim.
9. Non-stinky poops. Won't last long before they're on solid food, but until then their poop doesn't stink.
10. Being able to fall back asleep while someone is nursing is awesome!
    
11. It's free!
12. I've learned to type one handed.
13. Nursing frequently leads to frequent blog posts. You're welcome!
14. It also leads to reading lots and lots of stuff online. For reasons I don't understand, it's easier to nurse and read on the computer than it is to read a book.
15. You can often soothe an upset baby by offering a warm and pillowy breast.
16. Warm, cuddly babies. Makes you wanna hug 'em and squeeze 'em!

Well, I'm off to bed. Time to rest before the hungry hordes awaken again!

Anything else I should add to my list?

Dieter's Dilemma & Crockpots Ahoy!

My cousin in NY sent me an email about a bit of furor that I caused her dieting group:

I am very active on the email support system from my diet.

Anyway.......there are always new people coming on thinking they have a better way to format the email forum. This week someone suggested a blog type. Many of us were saying they don't see how a blog could work, & several people my age, didn't even know what a blog is (sort of like me a year ago). So I said "My cousin has an incredible blog, so if anyone wants to see what a blog is, go to www.hatchet........" Well I hadn't been on since Thursday or so. Well you wouldn't believe the amount of poor deprived people who are only eating veggies, fruit & milk, that went on to read the whole story of blueberry scones. They were freaking out!!!! "Why did Janet tell us to read about heavy cream and sugar & blahblahblahblahblah.............." I felt so bad but it was sooooo funny. Thought you'd get a kick out of it.

And to those poor folks, after I stopped laughing at the email, I humbly apologize. I hope the scones didn't traumatize you too much and to make it up to you, I shot a few pictures of food that are probably on your allowed list.
Celery. Celery is good, right?

Pears are also very nice. A good shot to your sweet spot, as it were.

And, um, a little subliminal advertising. The carrots, they're good for you! The celery got lonely.

Just, whatever you do, don't search my blog for cake. It may break you. And I don't want that to happen - Janet would probably never forgive me.

Uhh...and you may want to skip this, too:

Old fashioned chili with salsa cruda from Not Your Mother's Slow Cooker Cookbook. No, really, that's the title!

I've got a crockpot, I said. Send me recipes, I said. Get a book, you said. So we went shopping.

We did look at the Fix It and Forget it book. I picked that one up first and flipped through it. Then I handed it to Eric and he ixnayed it. You were right in that it has very easy recipes and they do look really fast to put together. The problem is that many of their recipes rely on "convenience" foods and convenience foods often contain MSG (and other multi-syllabic unpronounceable ingredients), to which I am horribly allergic. Gives me migraines which sucks mightily. Eric also complained that there were no fresh ingredients listed and that was the end of that.

It's not that we're not willing to cook dinner, it's that we're not allowed to cook dinner by the tiny twin tyrants that run the house currently. What with the screaming, nursing and crying, it has put a damper on the cooking. Add in Caitlin's end-of-day shenanigans and it's no fun at dinner time.

The other problem is that we're food snobs.

I totally admit to it.

I, Hatchet, am a food snob. [Insert sound of crickets.]

I'm sorry, you...you weren't surprised? Oh. Yeah. Well, I guess you've been reading some of the food entries, haven't you?

Dieters: Don't follow the links! Nooooo! Hey! What are you doing down here anyway?!

So, there we were: Eric ready to call off the search for a recipe book and I, determined that there must be a crockpot recipe book that was meant for us. And there was! And is! And it's a tome, I tell you! Unfortunately, other than the images on the front, spine and back cover there are no pictures in this cookbook. What's up with that?! I like pictures. They make me think either Yum! and they sell me on the book. I'm visually oriented (also not surprising to you).

After flipping through it, Not Your Mother's Slow Cooker Cookbook received the Eric stamp of approval and we were out of there. I paged through it on the way home and started making plans. Eric, however, got to choose the first item we made in the crockpot and he chose Old Fashioned Chili with Salsa Cruda. That night (Saturday), he ran out to pick up the ingredients we were missing and on Sunday morning while the twins were happy hanging out in the dining room, I put it together and into the pot. Yummy smells filled the air all day long. Eric made up the Salsa Cruda (raw salsa) after I was done with the first part and tossed it into the fridge.

Sunday night, with Pop-pop and Nana-Sue over for a visit, we feasted.

This is the final product:
It was so good, you needed to see that picture again.

Chili is on the bottom of the bowl, a sprinkling of cheddar cheese, then the salsa (the whole dish is very mild) and a few slices of avocado. Not exactly dieting food, but not too bad, either. At least, not in a scones and heavy cream sort of way. Heh!

Caitlin had it tonight over potatoes that were partially scooped out and she loved it, too! Good for the whole family. Not hot, though, so if you like chili that sets your tongue on fire, this won't be the recipe for you.

Want to make it? Here's how:

Cooker: medium round or oval
Setting: Low for 8-9 hours, add salt during last hour (Unless you are at high elevation, like we are, in which case set it to High for 8 or so hours.)

2 lb ground sirloin
2 medium yellow onions, chopped
1 med. green, yellow or red bell pepper, seeded and chopped
3 garlic cloves (or more!), minced
2 15 oz can red kidney beans, rinsed and drained
2 14.75 oz cans diced tomatoes, with their juice
1 8 oz can tomato sauce
1 1/2 cups beef or chicken broth or water
2 tbsp chili powder
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp ground cumin
Salt to taste

Salsa cruda:
3-4 large ripe tomatoes, finely diced
1 small red onion, finely diced
1 jalapeno, seeded and minced
1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro
Juice of 1 lime (or more!)
Garlic powder to taste
Salt to taste

For serving:
Shredded sharp cheddar cheese
Sliced avocado

1. In a very large skillet over med-high heat, cook beef, onion, bell pepper, and garlic until meat is no longer pink, breaking up any clumps; drain off fat. Transfer to slow cooker and add kidney beans, tomatoes, sauce, broth, chili powder, oregano and cumin, and stir to combine. Cover and cook on LOW (or at 3000' and higher: HIGH) for 8-9 hours, stirring occasionally (I didn't.), if possible. The last hour, season with salt.
2. To make the salsa, combine all ingredients in a bowl and refrigerate until serving. If you must make it the night before, add cilantro and lime at the last minute. (Note: to save time on all that dicing, you could just chop the ingredients into quarters, toss it into a food processor and give it a few one-second pulses. Not too many, you don't want mush.)
   
3. Serve chili in bowls topped with salsa, cheese and avocado slices.

Now I know that they say crockpots maintain moisture, but seeing is believing. Even here, in the land where it is unusual to say, "Wow! It's humid today!", the crockpot had a fair amount of liquid left in the chili when we were ready to eat it, so we took the top off and let it continue to cook down for awhile longer. We also didn't wait for 8 hours, probably more like 7, but it was gooooood! And it was easy! And it made dinner time a thousand times easier than normal. And there are leftovers, so we had food instantly ready for dinner yesterday and tonight as well as for lunch tomorrow.

Tomorrow night? Potato and Leek Soup.

Twenty Weeks

Twenty weeks has kicked our butts.

No, seriously, 4.5 months old and there's a growth spurt going on and there's no sleeping going on around these here parts. For the last week, they've been waking every 2 hours all night long. Both of them. Not much napping during the day, either. Today, they finally started napping again.

Bad enough when it was just Logan every 3-4 hours. Nowadays, 3-4 hours of sleep is looking really nice! Funny what perspective will do for ya, huh?

"Emma! I honk your nose. Honk! Honk!"

Let's see, other than that there isn't a lot of big change that happened from last week to this week. Logan still hasn't rolled over the hard way and neither one sits up on their own for long without toppling over and going Bonk! They both love being swung into the air and turned upside down. And they're still absolutely crazy about this girl:

Caitlin tries on her new swimsuit.

Too bad she's gone away for the weekend. They're gonna miss her! She's off galumphing about with her cousins in the mountains for the three day weekend. Us? We'll be practicing sleeping. We drove her to Denver to meet up with Aunt Jenni and I got to do a little shopping for a cute pair of jeans, two shirts and a necklace. We're calling the necklace an early birthday present from Eric. My birthday? Not until next month.

Well, I said it was an early present, didn't I?!

Before she left, Caitlin got some snuggling in with the twins and I got some cute pictures of the three of them. Yay!

[In a sing-song voice] One of these expressions is not like the others!

Logan started to get grumpy, so then it became an all girl shoot.

Emma says, "Nom nom nom! Dis Caitlin taste good!"

I will hug her and squeeze her and call her My Sister.

Oh, actually there was a new thing: Logan is trying to convince us that he's ready for solid food.

"Dis my eatin' face. Nom! Nom! You gives me cake now. I ready."

We dropped by Sara's to chill with her, The Hazel-Who and Katie and she offered us a slice of ice cream cake. Who are we to refuse ice cream cake? Eric, who had Logan in his lap, had to fend off the blighter from snatching his cake. Logan kept making these incredibly loud lip smacking sounds while watching Eric eat.

Eric, being the soft touch that he is, offered the tiniest amount of whipped cream on a finger-tip to Logan who slurped it down and got really wide-eyed.

I guess we'll be breaking out the mashed bananas this weekend.

Could he look any smaller in that high chair?!

"Now I play da air piano. You like? I play Mozart for you."

Maybe I'll even photograph it. Who knows?

Heh.

Peace, y'all!
(Note that Logan is trying to give you the peace sign, too.)

Hounded

I was positively hounded by the twins today.

Hunted.

Mauled.

They are experiencing a growth spurt, or at least that is how I am defining the fact that they wake every two hours at night to nurse and barely sleep during the day. This has been going on for the last week.

Today, while I was on the phone, they were both screaming. Not being able to handle both and the phone (I'm not that talented), I put one down in one room and worked on calming the other elsewhere in the house. Then, to the tune of blood curdling screams, I'd put the oh-so-temporarily calm one down to get the screamer.

Screaming because the air hurts them. Or maybe an insufficient supply of Being cuddled, but not by you! Not like that! Where's the milk?! I want something that you don't have/can't get/make!

You know, screaming because they are infants. Le sigh.

Talk, nurse (or attempt to), listen to screaming, swap out Calm Baby who becomes Screamer Baby and repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

I'm tellin' you: I need a Pause button and a Volume control.

Sorry about the screamin' Elisava!

A plan so cunning...

You could put a tail on it and call it a weasel.

Yes. I have a plan.

We have a plan.

Contrary to my previous entry that left you with the sneaking suspicion that I was sailing over the edge into Permanent Self Injury Land, I'm not that far gone. Just so you know I'm not that far gone: I still have a sense of humor left. It's when I lose all sense of humor that I know I'm in deep trouble. Ask Eric. During the worst times in my life that he has witnessed, I find nothing even remotely funny and trying to make me laugh just makes me mad. I know I'm going to be OK if I can laugh at myself or the situation. Just two days after making a concerted effort to get more sleep and I do, actually, feel better.

Not perfect, but better.

I recognize big, fat, red waving flags, even when they're in my own head. And then I act on them.

I have to type fast, since Logan just fell asleep so it's officially time to get some sleep and not stay up reading and cleaning. Or just reading and eating.

That being said, I had a big talk with Eric earlier while nursing Emma. The plan is to:

1. Get to bed early every night by about 9:30 pm or when my dinner is finished.
2. Try to tandem nurse again. Hopefully the double vomiting issue is finished now. Tandem nursing will hopefully mean time spent nursing is cut in half.
3. Accept any offers from those that want to come over and either hold babies while we clean or would like to bring/cook dinner. (Or offer cleaning services. Totally OK with that.) Right now our toughest times are from 4-8:30 pm which is dinner, twin cluster nursing, Caitlin homework time and getting boundary pushers to bed.
4. Get Caitlin's homework done on weekends and not weekdays. Caitlin has discovered that she can get Eric's complete and undivided attention by being, or pretending to be, completely miserable at math homework. I don't think it's her strongest subject, but I don't think it's actually this tough for her either.
5. Learn how to make dinner in the crockpot. Got any good recipes? I don't know any.

If you're wondering why See a Therapist isn't on the list, the answer is simple: money and insurance. Our insurance is Catastrophic only (at the moment) and wouldn't pay for anything, anyway. And since we currently have Out-Go and no Income, we can't afford it. I will have to reuse what I learned last time.

Ooh! Yes, there was a last time. That's when I had rockin' insurance and took advantage of it. Wasn't related to PPD, though.

As the weather warms up and there's more sunshine, I always feel better. I can get out more during the day and walk with the twins. Being physically active helped me a lot last time. I also have a lot of different personal goals related to building a business I love, which I didn't have last time. Making plants is a passion and one that makes me feel better all of the time. Just the smell of moist soil will lift my spirits.

I know, sounds weird, huh?

I am not going to hurt myself or those around me, even though I thought about it. Just so you know: I never touched the scissors. Also, since I have this ridiculously vivid imagination, I always follow those sorts of thoughts to their logical conclusion and never like the image of blood, hospitals and weeping husband and children left behind. There's no fantasy of how everything will be better if I'm dead or how everyone would just be better off if I didn't exist. It may very well be egotistical to say this, but the world would be a worse place without me in it.

Less scones, for instance. And who would photograph the children?!

I'm not going to do that to myself because I've got plans and because I am not going to tear my family apart.

My life has looked far worse at different points, so I can feel the difference in where I am now and where I was last time. I feel like I'm close to the hole, not actually in it, if you see depression as a large, dark hole in the ground.

This is me, seeing the hole and recognizing it and walking around and away from it.

These feelings are temporary.

This sleep deprivation is temporary.

This anger is temporary.

Caitlin is going through a phase.

The twins will eventually both sleep through the night.

I'm going to kick some plant selling ass at the Market this summer and I'm going to build a business I love with a friend I love.

And I am going to write and write and write about it.

2008 is going to be known as the Year of The Hatchet. Just you wait.

Messy but cute

Logan is drinking trying to drink water out of my glass.

He wants nothing to do with bottles of milk, but he wants my water.

Looks like we might have to consider moving up the introduction of solid food.

Of course, he also wants to eat this computer, not that that means anything.

P.S. Please leave any and all recommendations, hints or tips for bottle training, sippy or cup training for that matter, in the comments section. Getting desperate over here.

Uh, but you knew that.

Sick and Psycho

I love alliterative post titles, don't you? I was tempted to misspell it to get them to "match", but I can't make myself do that. Frustrated English major deep inside, you know.

This was the weekend from Hell and I do not say that lightly.

It started off badly on Friday when I made the huge mistake of having two mugs of chai: one in the morning and then one around 3pm. The first one ensured neither twin would nap during the day. In my stupidity (and because it tasted so good) I had the second which then ensured that neither would sleep through the night. Or anywhere close to it.

The twins, when they finally passed out from exhaustion around 10, woke up at 11:30, 1:30, 3ish, 4-oh-my-god-I-can't-focus-my-eyes something, then 6:30 and then 7 something. Otherwise known as "We might as well get up" time.

Yes. I did this to myself. Yes. It is all my fault. But here's the thing to keep in mind that will put everything into perspective:

I haven't had 6-8 hours of sleep since last May.

Do you know what that does to a person? Well, I can't answer for the rest of you, but it makes me psychotically angry. I get angry at the drop of a hat. It has been building for months. On Saturday morning, I went to get a nail file out of the drawer and noticed my scissors. My shiny, sharp, hair cutting scissors. They suddenly looked really good.

And I don't mean in a hair cutting sort of way.

I had a sudden flash - an actual desire - to eviscerate myself*.

It was at that moment that I turned around and went back into the bedroom to announce to Eric that he couldn't leave me alone with the twins today, as we had originally planned and that I needed to go with him. Then I told him why.

Then we got ready and Tra-la-la-la-la! headed off to the Girls in Sports conference the Girl Scouts were having.

Caitlin is pushing me and working on defining her boundaries and all of that jazz that is perfectly normal (so I've been told) in 6.5 year olds. The problem is that her boundary pushing is coming at the same exact time that we have twins who don't sleep through the night. This is Not Good. You might even say that this is a Bad Situation.

Eric spent the day being sick. Turns out that whatever Heather had that she gave to Emma, Emma gave it to Eric (probably via vomit) and then Eric gave it to me. On Sunday. Fortunately for all involved, it only lasted 24 hours. Eric got his day to be miserable and I got mine.

Nothing says Motherhood like throwing up into a basin held over the head of your nursing son.

You're welcome!

Parenting Without Pulling Punches. Maybe I should change my subtitle?

So. I spent Saturday night starting at 9:30 in bed. No reading, no writing, no nothing. Most especially no chai. Trying to sleep. Waking to nurse whomever was awake and then immediately putting them back down to sleep. It was still broken sleep, but better than the night before. And the night before that. And the one before that.

You get the picture.

The problem is that I spend the entire day nursing, changing, bouncing and entertaining the twins. Add to that the frustration that is a 6.5 year old that has to argue over everything: every word used incorrectly, every topic of conversation, everything you ask her to do. Night time, when Caitlin is finally in bed and the insanity that is the 4 pm to 8:30 pm time period is over, should be my time. My time to unwind.

Yes, "sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care" and yadda yadda yadda [Insert your favorite Shakespearean quote about sleep here] is fabulous. But I'd like some time to myself where no one needs or wants anything of me and no one is touching me. A time when I can think my own thoughts without being constantly interrupted by wee small people with urgent needs. Maybe even some time to get some work done for the upcoming Market season.

You see? I have a problem.

Caitlin, who gets 8 or more hours of sleep per night and gets to spend 6.5 hours out of the house, with her peers, doing things completely unrelated to babies and nursing has it easy. Even with all the yelling going on.

So maybe the person you should be worried about isn't Caitlin.

Maybe the person you should be worried about

Is me.





* Me. Just me. Only me. No desire to hurt the under 7 set. Or Eric, either. And after 2 days of actually working at getting some sleep, I feel a bit better. Last night, however, the twins woke every two hours. We seem to be experiencing a growth spurt.

No rest for the wicked.

C is for Cookie

This for everyone that needs something nice on a Monday.

Go see NPR: On Air: Cookie Monster.

From NPR. Thanks to Alessa.

The Sloganizer

Yes. Yes I am.

Most likely.

More appropriate than they'll ever know. Currently? Logan.

Get more here.

--Hat tip to The Bloggess.

Photos have been added to Nineteen Weeks.

Always Respect the Claws

Valerie lost her kitty, Ozzy, to cancer last week. Last night she wrote a Speaking for him. Essentially a eulogy. If you've ever loved and lost a pet, especially a cat, you should go read it.

Rules of Ozzie:

- I can touch you, you can't touch me.
- I can come up to you and sniff and put my paw on you and sit up so I can get very close to you..... but that still doesn't mean you can pet me.
- If you don't follow this rule I will hiss. At the very least.
- If you show any fear I may swipe at you as you walk by me.

You might need a few tissues. I'm just sayin'....

I'm still a little haunted by Pixel, but in a good way (For more about Pixel, just search my blog for his name. There are many stories. Bring tissues.). Each loss leaves a little hole in your heart. Each kitty seems to ghost through the house for up to a year after their death. Are they tiny furred ghosts or are they just really loud memories? I don't think you can live with anyone for 16 years and not see them walking through your days for ages after they are officially gone.

Can you?

I don't generally believe in ghosts, but kitties seem to be different. Then again, other than my immediate family and Eric, I've never lived as long with anyone that has died other than my cats. Their deaths always feel a lot more real than that of the humans in my life that have died.

That's pretty weird, isn't it?

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.

Why is it called Being Fresh when she acts so Spoiled?

The day started off with a bang. Caitlin told Eric that she doesn't like him any more. I already know how she currently feels about me and it ain't pretty. Unfortunately for her, the feeling is getting to be mutual.

Eric's betrayal? He made her go to school. On a school day. He's a right bastard, he is. She even refused to get out of the car, which didn't go over well, let me tell you!

Tonight she was hollered at about homework, harrassing us about dinner (There's only so many times I really need to hear you announce that you're staaaaarving! Once. Maybe twice if I didn't acknowledge your imminent death, but no more than that.), taking a bath, teeth brushing, getting ready for bed, and backtalk. I lost it at the backtalk which occurred while she was supposed to be putting on PJs. Then there was the single swat, the demand that she get in bed right now through gritted teeth and the loss of any and all playdates for at least a week. Tomorrow I will clean all of her toys and books out of her room and put them into the garage.

Let's be clear on this: I know she's "only" 6.5 years old and I do not expect her to be perfectly behaved, but it shouldn't take getting yelled at

Every.

Single.

Night.

To eat dinner like a civilized person, do her homework, take a bath, brush her teeth and get ready for bed. She has had to do this same exact sequence of events all of her life (some items, like homework are admittedly new) and it should never be a surprise to her that behavior that got her in trouble yesterday is getting her in trouble again today.

I don't care how bright she is. This behavior is unacceptable. She won't make it to seven at this rate.

And I'm tired of playing the Bad Cop to Eric's Good Cop.

And if the twins act like this when they turn six? I'm running away from home.

Logan says...

Logan, a member in good standing of the No Down Babies Movement, had this to say today:

Waaaaaaah!

Translated for your edification: No want!

Sez me: Milk?
Logan: No want!
Me: Rocking in chair?
Logan: No want!
Me: Swinging in car seat?
Logan: No want!
An increasingly frazzled me: Cuddling while sitting?
Logan: No want! What's the matter with you?!
Grasping at any straw me: Jiggle while swaying?
Logan: Nuh...! Oh. Okaaaa-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Emma, from the other room: And I don't like this swing eitherrrr-zzzzzzzzzzzz.

Veni, vidi, vici!

The entire family went down to caucus.

The entire neighborhood came, too.

The precinct captain said that four years ago he was the only person in our precinct that showed. That's because last time, we didn't get to vote until long after the winner had been picked. This year, Colorado got moved up into Super Tuesday and we got to make a difference. Everyone that could turned up to caucus.

I think I was the only woman there with twins, though.

It was dark and very cold and I was kicking myself for not having brought hats for the twins. I was once again very grateful for the snuggly winter wraps that Grammy gave them. Lacking hats, I draped my fuzzy gloves over their heads. Logan slept for quite awhile, while Emma stayed awake to charm the people around us. The line just to get into the building was fairly long, fortunately it was moving fast. I hadn't even thought about having to stand in line. Eric and Caitlin parked the car and then had to hike in.

There were hundreds, if not thousands, of people there. All ready to vote. After a few two minute speeches to represent the candidates with big cheers for Kucinich, Clinton, Obama (<-- Received loudest cheer. I'm just sayin'.) and Edwards, we split up into our requisite precincts, went to our separate rooms and then got down to business.

Out of the 71 eligible voters in the room (there were far more than 71 people in the room), 49 were for Obama and 22 for Clinton.

Eric stepped up to be a delegate and was chosen as an alternate. He was a little bummed since he wanted to be a main delegate, but still excited to go.

Turns out that his mom, his sister and Jim are also stepping up to be delegates in their respective towns. Go Family!

Caitlin and the twins were very well behaved and all and sundry ooh'd and aah'd over the twins. Emma and Logan were very excited to be there, but saddened when told they had to wait another 17 years and 8 months before they could get a chance to vote. Them's the breaks.

I've gotta tell ya, though: those were some excited people. Moving our primary up to give us a chance to vote and make a difference has all of us really jazzed. The next natural step, to me, is to create a national caucus day. That way, instead of spending weeks watching the candidates dribble away, everyone across the nation would get a chance to vote for their first choice.

And it needs to be moved to a weekend.

So! Did you get to caucus today?

VOTE: Caucus Tomorrow!

Tomorrow is Super Tuesday. Do you know where your polling place is?

No? Well, follow this link: Vote411.org.

Then, tomorrow, go and vote in the primary.

Because it's important. Because voting is the single most important thing we can do, on the individual level, in politics in this or any nation. Vote for who you want, not for the person you think everyone else wants. The primary is your chance to take a stand, instead of voting for the person chosen for you, choose yourself. I will be.

The twins will be right there with us.

Colorado will finally get a chance to make a difference instead of not mattering at all. Last time, the primary winner had already been selected by the time CO got to cast a single primary vote. Realistically, kinda makes it pointless to caucus then, doesn't it? This time, however, we're going to be in there with 21 other states and I want my vote to be counted.

You should, too.

Why? Because everything is political.

If you haven't noticed, the price you pay at the pump? Politics are involved to determine those prices: high or low. Who receives subsidies and who doesn't? That air you breathe and water you drink? Politics are involved to determine how many pollutant parts per million are allowed to be in it. That meat you like to eat? Politics determines the fact that less than 1% of all cattle raised in the US is ever tested for Mad Cow Disease. Those vegetables you eat? Politics are involved in allowing genetically modified crops to be produced and used in the foods you buy. Like organic food? Politics are involved in determining the very definition of organic. You don't think cloned animals or veggies raised in sludge (treated human waste) should be called "organic"? Then guess what?

Get out and vote.

There's a lot more at stake than you probably realize.

Eric says...

We were discussing baking issues at high altitude, when Eric said:

"That's why, if you had an unlimited budget and you were tired of having to make adjustments all the time, you could get a hyperbolic chamber to cook in. It would be great!" Stops to think of all the time he would save.

"You mean hyperbaric. If it were a hyberbolic chamber, it would be the Best! Chamber! Ever! You would never want to leave! It would be so FABULOUS! Wow!"

At this, Eric and Caitlin cracked up. Eric might have even blushed a little in embarrassment. Caitlin, who has been reading Calvin and Hobbes, added yet another strange word to her list (Defenestrate! Metropolis! Municipality! Thoroughfare! Serene! Calvin & Hobbes was awesome for improving your vocabulary. I miss those comics.), laughed just to laugh. We explained the difference later.

Yet another reason why it's good to be married to me. Somebody's got to know the difference between hyperbolic and hyperbaric.

At Chez Hatchet, that would be me.

Blueberry Scones

I like tea. A lot.

And do you know what goes oh-so-well with tea? Scones. So you can see, I had to make some on Tuesday. It's not easy to steal a few minutes away from They Who Shall Not Be Put DOWN, Dammit! But every once in awhile they actually fall asleep at the same time, during the day, and stay asleep for juuuuust long enough to get a little something done.

Now I know, you're wondering why didn't I do the laundry or mop the floor or something "useful" like that? Y'know what?

Your priorities are all screwy.

Munchies! Very! Important!

Besides, I have a new cookbook I'm trying to break in. Aaaand! Since I'm breastfeeding, I have caloric leeway that I will never have again! I need many calories to make milk for the twins which means I can eat practically anything and still lose weight. (I'm down 61 lbs so far, I have another 4 to go to return to my starting weight. Whee!) If you think I'm not going to take advantage of that...! Man!

You know *arching my brow invitingly*, I think you'd like these scones, too.

Blueberry Cream Scones
--The New Best Recipe Book

2 c (10 oz) unbleached AP flour
1 tbsp baking powder
3 tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp salt
5 tbsp cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/4" cubes
1/2 c blueberries
1 tsp grated lemon peel
1 c heavy cream

Gather your ingredients while Ye may!

1. Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 425. (In CO, add 25 degrees.)
   
2. Place flour, baking powder, sugar and salt in large bowl or the workbowl of a food processor fitted with the metal blade. Whisk together or process with six 1-second pulses.
3. If making by hand (Hah!), use two knives, a pastry blender, or your fingertips and quickly cut in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse meal with a few slightly larger butter lumps. If using a food processor, remove the cover and distribute the butter and grated lemon peel evenly over the dry ingredients. Cover and process with 12 1-second pulses. Transfer dough to a large bowl and and mix in the blueberries (fresh or frozen) by hand.
   
   Mmmm! Butter!
   

   
   
4. Stir in the heavy cream (Mmm!) with a rubber spatula or fork until the dough begins to form, about 30 seconds. (In CO, add a few extra tablespoons. It's dry here.)
   
5. Transfer the dough and all dry flour bits to a countertop and knead the dough by hand just until it comes together into a rough, slightly sticky ball, 5 to 10 seconds.
   
   Not a "ball" of dough at all.
   
   
   For wedges, pat the dough into an 8" round cake pan and then turn out onto countertop.
   
   This was a neat trick: instead of having to roll out the dough, you just squish it into a cake pan and then finesse it a little to get it back out again. It also takes the place of a little kneading.
   
   
   With a sharp knife or bench scraper, cut the scones into 8 wedges. Place the wedges on an ungreased baking sheet.
   
   Logan "helped" me put these in the oven. Little bugger only slept until the end of step 5.
   
   
6. Bake until the scone tops are light brown, 12 to 15 minutes. Cool on a wire rack for at least 10 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Waiting is the hardest part.

Ready to eat! Well, once you get your clotted cream and jam, that is.

I thought these turned out well: incredibly tender, but I have to admit that bottled lemon peel just didn't work for me. Next time I will use fresh grated lemon zest, and possibly up to two teaspoons of it. There wasn't enough lemony flavor in these for my taste. I also brushed the tops with a little more cream and added turbinado* sugar to the tops of half of them to see how I liked that and decided I liked it very well indeed.

You could just eat these out of hand and not add any clotted cream or jam, but really, what's the point of eating cream scones if not to add more cream to them? These are basically a wedge-shaped Cream Delivery Vehicle. Destination: Your hips.

But remember: It's all about the journey, not the destination. And what a journey it is!

These scones aren't very sweet at all, so you can pretend that they're "good for you", what with being homemade and having fruit in it. If you like them a little sweeter, you may want to make a glaze to brush over the whole thing, or just the tops. Or leave them less sweet and eat them with jam and cream. And tea. Don't forget the tea! I like Earl Grey with milk and sugar.

And a little cream.




* My friend Christine (Who introduced me to clotted cream, by the way. Thanks, Xine!) once asked me how many different kinds of sugar I had in the house. It seemed like there was a different one for every recipe. The answer? Umm...six? Granulated, superfine, confectioners', light brown, dark brown and turbinado. Unless you include Splenda. In which case, I have seven. You don't count molasses and corn syrup (light and dark), do you? Do you?

Hatchet SMASH!

Hatchet angry.

No. You not understand.

Hatchet ANGRY!

Hatchet scratched, pinched, bitten, screamed and whined at. Hatchet get NO SLEEP.

Hatchet feel psychotic angerrrrrrr. Raaaaarrrrr!

Hatchet go get blood drawn. Feel infinitismally tiny bit better. Hatchet take babies to doctor to just visit. Doctor and staff fuss. Hatchet small better. Hatchet fall asleep in car (Is OK. Husband driving.) and get tiny nap. Hatchet feel little better.

Hatchet get chocolate doughnut (Is TOO how you spell it, dumb machine!) and tall glass of milk.

Starting to feel human again.

Maybe life not so bad after all.*

Mmmmm! Doughnuts!




* But you better not pinch me no more!