Today I had a moment of silent horror when I looked down and noticed the severely chipped nailpolish disfiguring the appearance of my toes. They looked like ten little neglected misfits with sad, tattered clothes. Sadly, this is how they look every day, it was just that today, I really noticed them. They silently spoke of the neglect of self that has become commonplace. I remember making time to polish my toes in December and now, three months later, I only have flakey reminders of those few minutes when I remembered to care. This is not really a tragedy, I realize, but it began a slow revelation in my consciousness. I thought about other things that I have neglected and the list grew... I haven't gone for a haircut in months, my legs have not been shaved for awhile (I will keep that timeline to myself), I have not visited the dentist in forever, I have not plucked an eyebrow hair since 2009, and I have not had a full physical exam in a pathetically long time. Quietly, I have been neglected and I know that I am not the only woman floating precariously in this capsizing boat... my toes are a silent S.O.S.
Interestingly, there are a lot of social institutions that are in the service of protection. For example, if a child is being neglected, someone would call Child Protection Services, if an animal is mistreated, Animal Control is called, AND in a neighborhood with covenants, you can not have an overgrown lawn without being reported and fined! So... I rather facetiously ask; who does a woman call if she is neglecting herself? Who could immediately come to the rescue to make sure that she is being treated well?
Well, I have decided that a service should be created for those of us who simply forget themselves in the blur of meeting the demands of their others. The number would be 1-800-222-D.A.M.N. (Darn Awful Me Neglect). The service would offer you an opportunity to step back from your life and focus on just you. There would be relief workers who are utterly reassuring that you are not being selfish or whiney and you SHOULD NOT feel guilty. They could come to you in a "tricked-out" bus that has spa/ medical/ dental/ beauty/ fashion/ meal/ etc. services inside so that you could immediately have the help or attention you need... all while your needy little Klingons are provided educational play and organic, homemade snacks and your house is being cleaned. :)
This is my (rather brilliant) idea of a service that could serve the needs of the neglected woman, but until it exists... I will call my mom.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
The 5 BEST things about having twins... so far.
1.) First, I will start with a positive from my pregnancy... yes, there was ONE positive while carrying around a bulging mound of thumping interlopers. When I was approximately 16 weeks pregnant with my girls, I learned that I was extremely anemic through a routine blood work-up. I had already been taking a multivitamin with iron, but was still deficient in my iron needs. I was subsequently prescribed 325mg of Ferrous Sulfate (iron) twice a day and my levels began to register in the "normal" range. Okay, not that interesting so far, but wait... I noticed that this really helped with my low energy and I felt pretty good for the rest of the pregnancy. Then (here's the good part) I delivered the girls and remained on a higher dose of iron and felt SPECTACULAR! I know this sounds crazy, but it is true. Yes, I was tired, even exhausted often, but it was not the kind of undermotivated, sluggish fatigue I had been battling for years. I felt like I was "lively" and could actually handle the previously daunting prospect of raising twins. The moral of this story? I had unknowingly been anemic for about 10 years. I had always thought I was just a "wimp" and that I needed more sleep/relaxation/ease in my life than most people. Turns out I was wrong... I now feel (at 40 y.o. with 9 mo. old twins) better than I have felt in YEARS and I never would have known that if it wasn't for this pregnancy! (I am now a huge proponet of women making sure they are getting adequate iron in their diets and I tell this story in case someone might benefit from my experience.)
2.) (Number #2 is not "politically correct," just honest.) Delivering preterm twins (5 weeks early) with slightly under-developed lungs, they needed to spend a week in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. In the first few hours, they struggled with breathing on their own and each had one apnea incident. Thankfully, they quickly graduated through the breath, suck, swollow developmental tasks, but they stayed in the NICU for a week as a precaution due to this early issue. Obviously, having them in the NICU is NOT ideal related to health concerns. That being said, having nurses take care of them round-the-clock for those first seven days was "angels on high" glorious! (With my previous two births, the encouraged practice of the hospital was "rooming in" with your newborn which I did... I believed it was essential for healthy "bonding" and earning your good-mother-medal upon discharge.) Under these alternate circumstances; however, it meant that I was able to allow my body to recover from the delivery or what I call "the trauma of a forced eviction of the squatters from the habitat of my womb." I was able to sleep when I wanted for the first few days and I didn't even have the responsibility of my other children... it was an intermission of sorts before the big "reveal." I was able to visit my new mini-me's whenever I wanted and ease into this mother of two thing. Thankfully, the NICU nurses constantly and affirmingly reminded me to take care of myself and get some rest... soon enough, I would be on my own. It also allowed our other children to come to the hospital and visit them throughout that week. They, too, needed to get used to the idea of sharing our lives with Thing 1 and Thing 2. (By the way, the psychic scars from inadequate early bonding have only been slight. ;)
3.) Being the mother of twins brings you accidental celebrity... and "fame" can be nice for the ego. As a mother of multiples, you are considered a marvel of the mother species. It seems that everyone you encounter comments, sometimes just silently with their bulging eyes, in amazement that you are managing the demands of more than one mortal being at once... You are considered "incredible" if you venture into Target with both babies in tow, you are given special appreciation if you attend an event dragging two little minnions along, and you are admired from near and far because you have accomplished the feat of keeping two infants alive simultaneously. Now, I know that some people don't like the attention that infants bring, but I am just pathetic enough to like the validation from outsiders that having twins is HARD. (If someone does not sufficiently seem to appreciate my twin-o-fastic feat, I just tell them that I birthed my twins without benefit of pain medicine... one normal and one BREECH! Okay, now I have their attention.)
4.) This "best thing" was unexpected... Watching the two of them discover and interact with their DNA replica is the SWEETEST wonder to observe!!! Starting at about four months old my girls began to turn toward one another, study each other's face and then lift the corners of their mouths in a knowing smile. Now, at 9 months, they actively reach toward the other and "chat" about private issues. It is like watching a beautiful bond bloom... or a secret story unfold of a depth that I will never know, but my daughters will embody. They are forever bound by the link of being twins and hopefully they have found their forever best friend.
5.) The joy of DOUBLE everything... Two smiles when I enter the bedroom to embrace them after a sleep, two little warm bodies to lay against mine as we cuddle with hearts content, two staring sets of eyes tracking my movements around the room, two sets of arms reaching for me when I come near, two voices that chirp with eagerness to share their newest thoughts, two, two, two. Double every delight is a truly a double blessing. The joys of having twins has expanded my heart into its outer limits... perhaps I should have been given two hearts to accomodate the abundance.
Honestly, I never would have hoped for twins! When I looked at the ultrasound at 12 weeks and saw two little beings in form, I actually cried with anxiety and fear. The concept of two needy infants being dependent on my maternal skills was utterly depressing. I truly didn't think that I could do it. But in the profound words, "You never know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have," it has shown me that I am so much stronger than I knew... and having twins was exactly right for me.
2.) (Number #2 is not "politically correct," just honest.) Delivering preterm twins (5 weeks early) with slightly under-developed lungs, they needed to spend a week in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. In the first few hours, they struggled with breathing on their own and each had one apnea incident. Thankfully, they quickly graduated through the breath, suck, swollow developmental tasks, but they stayed in the NICU for a week as a precaution due to this early issue. Obviously, having them in the NICU is NOT ideal related to health concerns. That being said, having nurses take care of them round-the-clock for those first seven days was "angels on high" glorious! (With my previous two births, the encouraged practice of the hospital was "rooming in" with your newborn which I did... I believed it was essential for healthy "bonding" and earning your good-mother-medal upon discharge.) Under these alternate circumstances; however, it meant that I was able to allow my body to recover from the delivery or what I call "the trauma of a forced eviction of the squatters from the habitat of my womb." I was able to sleep when I wanted for the first few days and I didn't even have the responsibility of my other children... it was an intermission of sorts before the big "reveal." I was able to visit my new mini-me's whenever I wanted and ease into this mother of two thing. Thankfully, the NICU nurses constantly and affirmingly reminded me to take care of myself and get some rest... soon enough, I would be on my own. It also allowed our other children to come to the hospital and visit them throughout that week. They, too, needed to get used to the idea of sharing our lives with Thing 1 and Thing 2. (By the way, the psychic scars from inadequate early bonding have only been slight. ;)
3.) Being the mother of twins brings you accidental celebrity... and "fame" can be nice for the ego. As a mother of multiples, you are considered a marvel of the mother species. It seems that everyone you encounter comments, sometimes just silently with their bulging eyes, in amazement that you are managing the demands of more than one mortal being at once... You are considered "incredible" if you venture into Target with both babies in tow, you are given special appreciation if you attend an event dragging two little minnions along, and you are admired from near and far because you have accomplished the feat of keeping two infants alive simultaneously. Now, I know that some people don't like the attention that infants bring, but I am just pathetic enough to like the validation from outsiders that having twins is HARD. (If someone does not sufficiently seem to appreciate my twin-o-fastic feat, I just tell them that I birthed my twins without benefit of pain medicine... one normal and one BREECH! Okay, now I have their attention.)
4.) This "best thing" was unexpected... Watching the two of them discover and interact with their DNA replica is the SWEETEST wonder to observe!!! Starting at about four months old my girls began to turn toward one another, study each other's face and then lift the corners of their mouths in a knowing smile. Now, at 9 months, they actively reach toward the other and "chat" about private issues. It is like watching a beautiful bond bloom... or a secret story unfold of a depth that I will never know, but my daughters will embody. They are forever bound by the link of being twins and hopefully they have found their forever best friend.
5.) The joy of DOUBLE everything... Two smiles when I enter the bedroom to embrace them after a sleep, two little warm bodies to lay against mine as we cuddle with hearts content, two staring sets of eyes tracking my movements around the room, two sets of arms reaching for me when I come near, two voices that chirp with eagerness to share their newest thoughts, two, two, two. Double every delight is a truly a double blessing. The joys of having twins has expanded my heart into its outer limits... perhaps I should have been given two hearts to accomodate the abundance.
Honestly, I never would have hoped for twins! When I looked at the ultrasound at 12 weeks and saw two little beings in form, I actually cried with anxiety and fear. The concept of two needy infants being dependent on my maternal skills was utterly depressing. I truly didn't think that I could do it. But in the profound words, "You never know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have," it has shown me that I am so much stronger than I knew... and having twins was exactly right for me.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
I'm NOT a dumb blonde... or am I?
Blonde... an adjective that fits me and one that has strong negative connotations. I have been a blonde all of my life (i.e. This IS my real hair color) and I have tried hard not to fit the "dumb blonde" stereotype. I pride myself on being rather smart, actually... I was a straight A student in high school, magna cum laude in college, and earned my master's degree from Northwestern University... not bad for a girl who grew up on a dairy farm and in a town with one stop sign! (In addition, I know what a few big words like "consternation" and "enigma" mean! I know, I know... impressive.)
So, even with my pigment deficit, I thought that I had outrun the typecast of being dim-witted... but I think I have been, ummmm, in deep denial. Proof? Today, on my way to work... I ran out of gas ON THE INTERSTATE!!! Who does that??? How stupid, ridiculous, mindless, foolish...dumb, dumb, dumb!!! I would like to say that the incident was due to an automobile malfunction, but that is not true. I would like to say that it was due to a "momentary" brain aneurysm, but that would be a lie. Thus, I must now confess to myself that "dumb blonde" is an accurate monicer for me. Yep, it is. I graciously accept this.
Now I must dash to the bathroom and use my Loreal color kit to make myself a brunette... so it will no longer be true again.
So, even with my pigment deficit, I thought that I had outrun the typecast of being dim-witted... but I think I have been, ummmm, in deep denial. Proof? Today, on my way to work... I ran out of gas ON THE INTERSTATE!!! Who does that??? How stupid, ridiculous, mindless, foolish...dumb, dumb, dumb!!! I would like to say that the incident was due to an automobile malfunction, but that is not true. I would like to say that it was due to a "momentary" brain aneurysm, but that would be a lie. Thus, I must now confess to myself that "dumb blonde" is an accurate monicer for me. Yep, it is. I graciously accept this.
Now I must dash to the bathroom and use my Loreal color kit to make myself a brunette... so it will no longer be true again.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
A blog... but why?
I have started a blog to have a written record of the pandemonium that is my life. I want my children to know a little bit about what I was thinking and feeling while chest deep in the chaos of diapers, homework, potty training, orthodontic appointments, teething, and nightly basketball practice (and that was just THIS week!). I manage this while working part-time and trying to honor the commitment I made to my husband... for better or worse, or as we facetiously like to say... since we are now stuck with each other FOR-EV-ER!
In truth, I have a terrible memory and I am sad about that. I remember some hightlights (and lowlights) from my past, but very little of the nuanced day-to-day dealings of my life. So, I am afraid that I will forget what I hope to remember about my children. I have often asked my own mother to tell me things about my childhood and usually hear three standard things... that I was "shy", I folded my own clothes when I was two, and I picked out a toothbrush as a first gift for my baby brother when I was four. From these tidbits, it seems I was an insecure child with OCD and hygene concerns. I wish I knew more. To be fair, my mom raised five children herself and for her, too, I think it all became something of a high precipitation "fog" of the mind.
So, this blog is for my children. When they ask me to tell them about their childhood, I will be able to have them read about themselves and our family through the kaleidescope of my perceptions. So to start, today... I want M. to know how much I admire his thoughtful treatment of others, J. to learn that I adore his creative mind, A. to know that he has taught me how to be a better person, H. to hear about the pure joy he brings to each day, and E. and J. to know that I am waiting eagerly to learn about who they are uniquely meant to be.
Honestly, I am regularly SHOCKED that I have six children and I don't feel adequately mature enough to be entrusted with the responsibility of watching over their little hearts and minds. I am such an imperfect mother... I am domestically unskilled, often anxious, rarely on time, and hopelessly tangential... but hopefully, my children will understand one thing about me through my writing... that I tried really hard to parent them well.
In truth, I have a terrible memory and I am sad about that. I remember some hightlights (and lowlights) from my past, but very little of the nuanced day-to-day dealings of my life. So, I am afraid that I will forget what I hope to remember about my children. I have often asked my own mother to tell me things about my childhood and usually hear three standard things... that I was "shy", I folded my own clothes when I was two, and I picked out a toothbrush as a first gift for my baby brother when I was four. From these tidbits, it seems I was an insecure child with OCD and hygene concerns. I wish I knew more. To be fair, my mom raised five children herself and for her, too, I think it all became something of a high precipitation "fog" of the mind.
So, this blog is for my children. When they ask me to tell them about their childhood, I will be able to have them read about themselves and our family through the kaleidescope of my perceptions. So to start, today... I want M. to know how much I admire his thoughtful treatment of others, J. to learn that I adore his creative mind, A. to know that he has taught me how to be a better person, H. to hear about the pure joy he brings to each day, and E. and J. to know that I am waiting eagerly to learn about who they are uniquely meant to be.
Honestly, I am regularly SHOCKED that I have six children and I don't feel adequately mature enough to be entrusted with the responsibility of watching over their little hearts and minds. I am such an imperfect mother... I am domestically unskilled, often anxious, rarely on time, and hopelessly tangential... but hopefully, my children will understand one thing about me through my writing... that I tried really hard to parent them well.
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