Meet Julianna at One

As our blog "restarts," I thought it might be the perfect time to reintroduce each of my "two."  Since she is technically my oldest (by one minute) I'll give you an update on Julianna first.  How far she's come since I last introduced her, about a month before her birth!

Julianna Marie

Nicknames: Julie, Julie-Bean, Beanie Baby, Beans, Princess, Beaners, Honey Bean (basically anything BUT Julianna)

Size: Currently wearing 18 months - will update with height and weight after our upcoming doctors appt.
Favorite Song: You Are My Sunshine
Favorite Food: Mandarin Oranges
Favorite Toys: Gymnic Rody Horse, Fisher-Price Little People Disney Princess Songs Palace, Fisher Price Laugh & Learn Learning Home
Favorite TV Show: Bubble Guppies
Favorite Animal: Dogs
Vocabulary: Mama, Dada, Uh-Oh and most recently "Hi"
Tickle Spots: Shoulders and Feet

Julies' spirit is just so joyful, silly, and spunky.  She always has a smile, and is filled with wild noises.  She loves to hold her hand in the air and holler like she's proclaiming something for the world to listen.  Julie's born to be a performer, hopping on every "stage" (ie box) that she can find.

She just began walking a few weeks ago, and is already tottering around everywhere.  She's a girly girl with bows in her hair, and pretty dresses, even giving us a "twirl" in her Christmas dress.  Julie despises socks, and likes shoes even less.  "Bling" is one of her favorite things, as is every texture of fabric that she comes across.  Julie's giggles are the most beautiful noise in the entire world.  God made her so perfectly, just for me. :-)

A Long Time Coming

This post has been a LONG time coming.  Last week, we celebrated the twins first birthday.  I feel like shouting "WE MADE IT!" from the highest mountaintop.  In the same way though, it is bittersweet to think that each new step my babies take is one of independence and the beginning of their own life journeys.  It has been an amazing year watching them transform from these little needy lumps (don't judge - that's basically what they were), to these incredible tiny people with their own ideas and true emotions.

While our year seems to have gone so slowly in some ways, it's flashed past in others.  One of the biggest sunrises for me is my own personal growth within this past year.  I've gone from a perfectionist with a major need for control, to a ... ... ... person who really misses perfection and still struggles with these feelings of being "out of control."  Needless to say I have lots of room to grow!  And despite my mother spending the best part of a year with us (I just couldn't let her go until she'd been here a whole nine months), I can hang my hat on the past four months of getting through each day with my kiddos and finding a strength that I didn't know I had.

Sure, there were moments of frustration and feelings of being overwhelmed.  But they are so overshadowed by the total bliss of feeling my babes unconditional love, watching their successes, and seeing their twin bond really begin to blossom.  They are such cool little people and I am so fantastically blessed to be their Mama.

As we begin our second year as a family, we also cross into a "New Year."  One of my resolutions has been a recommitting to my blog in order to capture these moments for my kids, to connect with other moms, and share our experiences.  In the past months there have been so many things I've WISHED I could have blogged about, but they seemed so silly and the hurdle of writing too great.  A fresh start is surely in order.  It's so easy to focus on the time lost between posts, that the black hole of absence begins to swallow your potential posts.  I may have missed recording some of our time, but instead I was busy living it.  Better late than never though right? While there's lots of work ahead to "restart" My Tales with Two, I'm looking forward to the challenge.    

Where oh where...

"Where oh where has that Twin Mamma gone - oh where can she be?  With her blog abandoned and with no excuse, oh where oh where is she?"

About three months ago, I alluded to just how busy things had become in our house, and about two weeks later, I celebrated father's day with a note about my awesome dad, and then - silence.  

I think the problem was that I got SO excited to be a stay at home Mom, and started dabbling in everything. Blogging, freezer cooking, ancestry, playgrouping, hairbow making, consignment shopping/selling, and most of all photography.  All of these "hobbies" could have made for a full time job as it was, let alone the two wild and wonderful babers that I'm responsible for.  I had to choose just one, and it ended up to be photography.

So a little update is in order...  Grammy is STILL in residence here with us - for one more week.  Then we hit the beach for a much needed vacation.  And upon our return, she'll officially be going home.  I'm TERRIFIED but I do think we'll survive.  Boy will we miss her.  We would have never ever ever been as sane through this process without her.

I bought a fabulous camera in May, took a fantastic class through the local community college throughout the summer, and have built a little photo studio which has taken over what will eventually be our playroom. It's filled with light stands and umbrellas and strobes and all sorts of goodness of which I've just begun to learn the capabilities. I just finished up a set of portraits for the babies that I am so proud of and will be sharing lots of pictures soon.  Now that all of this research and purchasing is done, I'll have way more time to get back to blogging.

The babies are doing so so well.  They're growing up so fast!  Brayden is moving all over, crawling all over creation to get where ever he wants to go.  Julie's just beginning to seem motivated to move, but boy can that girlie talk!  She has mastered Dada, Mama and Baba.

We'll be doing a combined 6-8 month update (oops) later this week to give all the details on our sweet little ones.

It's so so good to be back!

My Dad

It’s almost Dan’s first official Father’s Day and the celebration has got me thinking about my own Dad. Although I didn’t always appreciate him as much as I should have, his unconditional love and support has been there from my very first day.

The earliest memories I have with my dad are of reading books all snuggled in the nook of his arm, exploring the worlds of my picture books.  Those colorful illustrations gave way to American Girls, Sweet Valley Kids, Box Car Children, Indiana Jones and every historical fiction book for children ever written.  Through the investment of his time, he opened up my imagination and creativity which is so much a part of who I am.

As I got older, I certainly offered my dad my share of “challenges.”  Boys, teenage hormonal drama, overspending, and unstable college majors all took their turn at changing Dad’s hair from dark brown to silver.  I’m sure I left him scratching his head wondering “what did I say that got her so upset?” on more than one occasion.  Looking back, despite it all, I know that more than anything, my dad wanted the best for me.  His reminder to “wear a coat” was only because he wanted me to be warm, and not really an intention to control my life (regardless what the rebel inside said at the time).

My dad has worked so hard all of his life in order to give me everything I could ever need or want, including my mom’s ability to stay home and care for us.  I know he thinks that because she spent so much time with us during the day when we were little, that she had the most influence on who  my brother and I have become.  And while my mother is a huge part of who I am, I think my dad underestimates what he has given me.

My dad believes in me.  He always always has.  He believed that I could be the best little mouse ballerina in the nutcracker when I was four.  He believed I could be the best singer in my high school choir.  He believes that I can have an awesome blog and religiously votes for me on Top Baby Blogs every day.  Whose Dad does that?  Mine – my awesomely supportive and proud Dad. 

Because my dad has so much confidence in me - because he truly believes that I can - I start to believe that it’s true, and that I can get through whatever challenges me.  I’ve learned to trust his words as truth and that gift of confidence is one of the best things a parent can give their children.

And most importantly, my Dad believes that I can do this Mom thing and will be able to give my babies all the love and care that they need.  Every step of the way he’s there.  He was waiting with a hug the morning before I went in for delivery, the day the babies were born.  He was there during my pregnancy when I was scared we were having issues.  He was there when I desperately needed him the other night when Julie was in the hospital, holding my hand and telling me it would all be okay..

As I sat there watching him hold my little girl, I could see his love for her spill out all over.  That love is the same love that he’s had for me my whole life, and I am so very lucky to be the recipient. 

Happy Fathers Day Daddy…

Late Night Breastfeeding Ramble

Warning:  This post is about breastfeeding.  I try not to post about it much, but just wanted to give you a heads up and an opportunity to back away now if you feel the need.

(a stream of conscious writing to organize my thoughts and clear my head)

This past week, Julianna had quite an accident.  It’s a really long story that I’m not comfortable going into much detail about quite yet, but needless to say it was an ordeal that included a lengthy experience in the ER and an overnight admission at Children’s Hospital.  When we arrived at 11 p.m., I hadn’t pumped since around 5.  This is pretty typical for my days recently, and not a huge concern.  As we reached a very emotional 2:30 am, I was feeling really engorged and even started leaking through my shirt (which NEVER happens to me).  Finally, I talked to a nurse who found me a pump and a lactation lounge and away I went.  Armed with a pair of 2 oz bottles and an empty 20 oz water bottle, my aunt and I took to the task of me pumping while she attempted to unscrew and empty the small bottles into the large one.  I was shocked at how quickly I filled those tiny 2 oz bottles that once took me ten minutes to fill in my early days!  So here we are like wild women, trying to just get me empty enough to be comfortable so I can get back to my sweet baby, and give that baby something to drink when she was ready for it.  I pumped about 10 oz total, and then stopped.  This was probably only half of what I had in me, but without a hands free bra, I wasn’t going any longer than I had to.  The next morning, I was up at 6, and by 9 am was pumping again – this time with a basket full of 2 oz bottles and my dear husband had the task of helping me.  I pumped to empty, and then resumed normal pumping later that day around 4 p.m.

Since this time, I have seen a dramatic drop in my output – about 50% of what I typically produce.  Could it be that my body thinks that my babies are done and has decided it doesn’t need to produce as much because of the few times I didn’t pump completely?  Julie’s accident was of course tremendously stressful, so could it be stress effecting my body?  I’ve been so close to my edge lately that I’m crying at the most frivolous things – like the Chinese takeout order being wrong or my mom suggesting a nap schedule.  Somedays feel like I’m not only loosing my identity, but also my mind!

 I have been so busy that I’ve hardly had the time to drink the water as I need to, and I’m sure this has some effect as well.  On top of everything, the night after I got home, I woke up sick in the middle of the night, and have had a terrible sinus infection since.  Could the infection cause a temporary drop?

Regardless of the how or why, it’s clear that my milk is not doing well these days.  I can’t help but begin to wonder if it’s time to turn off my pump, and pull out the formula checks.  My babies are used to formula and tolerate it well enough – it’s just that I DO believe that breastmilk is what’s best for them, and provides so many benefits.  If I didn’t believe it with all of my heart, I wouldn’t be tethered to the pump for at least 2 hours a day.

I know it’s possible to come back from all this – drink more water, take the fenugreek, Gatorade, probably cut back on my caffeine to help me relax, and most of all, pump more often.  I know all of these things, but yet I’m beginning to question if it’s WORTH fighting for.  My babies are almost 6 months old – my initial breastfeeding goal.  I’ve helped give their little bodies a jump started immune system and done my very best this long.

The thing I guess I question most is the value…  Is pumping for two hours each day worth only being able to produce half of my babies daily needs?  What happens if I drop even farther – is a fourth of their needs worth two hours?  An eighth? Will quitting give me more freedom and less stress, making me a happier twin mamma – or will it give me guilt for not hanging in there longer? 

As I’ve said so many many times before, the hardest part is when you want to do what’s best for your family, but “what’s best” is so unclear. 

Most likely, I’ll keep on for at least another week, when the babies have their “half birthday” on the 22^nd, and see how I’m feeling.  We’re going to a wedding this weekend and the babies will be with my family, drinking mostly milk frozen from my early days.  Hopefully coming back with a cooler full of milk pumped from this weekend will help me keep up with their demands for the short term, and will buy me some time to make my decisions.  Maybe a weekend away will leave me a little rejuvenated and help my stress as well. 

This mom stuff is not easy huh?