Superf[a][i]cial Time

Today, I was scrolling through old pics on my facebook page and wanted to share some of my favorites of Ashley over the past few years.

I just think she's so beautiful.  :-)  (And smart too.  Of course.)

Reason #4,212 Why Twin Boys Are Awesome

The on-demand Star Wars reenactments.



Starring Aidan as Darth Vader.

And Owen, as Hoagie One Kadobe.

George Lucas - have your people call my people.

Siri and Me (v.3.0)

Elbow Update

Thank you all SO much for your well wishes for Owen. He is doing so much better. He's not on any medicine for pain anymore and was back to his spunky little self for the first time today.

He and I are still bunking up together at night until I'm confident he can get through the night without needing me to adjust his arm, help him sit up, etc. We've been having the cutest pillow talk.

Tonight he told me that he had asked God to take away his broken arm but that God wasn't listening to him and that made him want to cry. Oh, my heart. How do you explain God and free will to a 5 year old little boy with a broken elbow? I tried and surely failed.

Some of you have asked how Aidan is handling all this. He's been a great sport and is super happy to have his best bud at home again. On Saturday morning before Owen's surgery, I called home so Owen could talk to Aidan. When Owen heard Aidan's voice, it was the first time I'd seen him smile since he fell the night before. Owen told Aidan that he had bandaids on both hands (the cast on one and the IV on the other) and Aidan told Owen all about how my dad couldn't figure out how to turn on the vacuum at the house that morning. It was adorable to hear them chit chat.

Anyway, I'm just rambling now. It has been a nightmare few days but we're starting to come through it. Now if I could just shake this cold and cough, life would definitely feel manageable again.

Owen

This has been the weekend from hell.

Owen fell off his bed Friday night and broke his elbow. After a trip to urgent care, an x-ray, a temporary cast, a drive to the ER with me cradling him in my lap in the backseat, a consult from an orthopedic surgeon, a blown IV line, a second temporary cast, and me holding my precious baby boy at 1:00 in the morning under the harsh bright lights of an ER exam room while he sobbed that he just wanted to go home - a decision was made to admit him and operate in the morning to insert pins to put his elbow back together.

I think he might be the bravest boy in the entire world.

I was up every 1/2 hour with him in his room that night, moving him from hospital bed to chair and back, just trying to find some place where he could get comfortable enough to sleep. I gave up on sleep for myself at 6 a.m. My cell phone had long since died, I had nothing with me but my empty purse and the clothes on my back, I didn't dare turn on the tv or leave him for a moment. So I just stared at my baby for the next few hours until my mom came to sit with me.

Did I mention Scott was out of town at his grandma's funeral?

I ran on pure adrenaline the next morning. I held it together until they wheeled him away from me to the OR. The anesthesiologist had given him a sedative so he was pretty loopy when he left my sight which I hope made it easier for him. I lost it. Thank God for my mom, she got me through the next hour while he was in surgery.

They put 3 pins in his elbow during the surgery, and then did a split cast on his arm to allow for swelling. Scott made it to the hospital a couple hours after the surgery, after driving 8 hours in the snow and wind after just driving 8 hours the day before, missing his grandma's funeral to be with his son. What a choice.

They let us leave at 6:00 that night. You could see the relief in Owen's face when he realized he was finally going to go home and no one was going to poke or stick him with anything anymore.

He and I slept in my bed and didn't get up this morning until 10 a.m. We were up for a couple hours, then I started feeling terrible. Ashley took my temperature just to be cute, and I realized I had a 102 degree fever.

I'm feeling better now. The fever broke after a few hours and some more sleep, so I'm not sure if I picked something up at the hospital, or if my body was just trying to deal with the lack of sleep and adrenaline and stress. I also can barely walk. I think I pulled various muscles carrying and lifting and moving Owen, so I'm kind of a wreck right now.

He is doing so much better. His pain is way better, and we are just doing motrin now for pain control. He's cuddled up in bed with me right now snoring holding the stuffed giraffe I bought him in the gift shop while trying to stay sane during his surgery. We go back to the orthopedist in a week to do the full cast once his swelling has gone down. Then he'll have the cast on for 4-6 weeks, and then they'll take out the pins. I find it so relieving that the pins are temporary. The thought of my perfect little baby boy having permanent metal in his body totally upset me, so I felt so much better when I found out they are temporary.

Ugh. There is just nothing worse than seeing your baby in pain. Nothing.

Nightmare on Aidan Street

I walked into the boys' bedroom the other morning to find Owen fast asleep in his bed and Aidan sitting sadly on the floor.

Me:  What's wrong, buddy?

Aidan:  I had a bad dream.

Me:  What did you dream about?

Aidan:  You and daddy went away to college and I missed you.

God, I love this kid. 

Siri and Me (v.2.0)

Bellies, Birthdays and Boys. And Bewilderment.

Five years ago today, I was gargantuan.

Like seriously GARGANTUAN.

I weighed more than I ever had in my whole entire life.  I weighed more than my husband had in his whole entire life.  I was FULL O' BABIES.

Note:  The below picture was taken in December of 2006.  TWO MONTHS before I gave birth to the twins. 

Sidebar:  Aw, look at Ashley!  She was such a little squirt.  (I hope somebody helped her out of that bucket because lord knows I wasn't moving my behind off that couch any time soon.)

Anyways, I tried to find a picture of me further along with the twins to show you all.  And yes, I found a few.  BUT GOOD LORD ALMIGHTY, I looked terrible those last couple of months.   Yeah, yeah, everybody says that.  With me, it's true.  Obviously there wasn't much I could have done about the whale belly.  And yes, no clothes fit me, let alone cute clothes.  But could somebody have please passed me a hairbrush?  Or a mirror?  Yikes. 

SO, needless to say, none of those photos will be making their debut on the world wide web anytime soon.  The above photo will have to do.  And let me just say the fact that it cuts out my entire facial/cranial area weighed heavily (heh heh, heavily) in my decision to post it.

ANYWAYS.  Now that we've established I was hugely pregnant five years ago today, I can get to the point of this post.  Which is that my baby boys are turning five years old tomorrow.  Five!!!!!!

How can this be?

How is it possible to go from this...

...to this...

...in just five short years?  If somebody can explain it to me, I'm all ears.

I'm Not Ready For This

So, I've been thinking a lot lately.  About my life, about motherhood, about where I want to be in 20 years. 

I think part of this was inspired by a conversation Ashley and I had a couple weekends ago. 

My friend (and awesome neighbor) Heather and her daughter Marlee popped by and asked Ashley to go do a little shopping with them at Justice.  Ashley *adores* Marlee because Marlee is older and also totally super cool.  Ashley was SUPER excited.  Then somehow Heather and I decided I would go too, because I'm always up for a Justice shopping spree.  Especially when the entire store is 40% off, boo-yah!

We agreed to be ready to go in 15 minutes.  But then while I was brushing my hair, Ashley came to see me in the bathroom very quiet and shy.

I said, "What's wrong, honey?"  And she said, "Mommy, I don't want to tell you because it will make you really, really sad."

I said, "Uh oh," and was thinking she hit one of her brothers or something.  But that wasn't it.

"Just tell me, honey.  What is it?"

She looked down at the floor and laid it out for me as gently as she could.  "Mommy, I wanted to go to Justice with Marlee and Heather by myself."

Ugh.  I gotta say, it hurt.  A lot.  6 years old and already disinviting me to things!

I understand why.  I do, I do.  But oh, I'm not ready for this stage.  I'm not.   

And you know what was worse was how I reacted.  I laid on the guilt, big-time.  What can I say, being passive-agressive is my super power.

So yeah, it got me thinking.  About how I need to get myself in check for the next time something like this happens.  I don't want to be a guilt-imparting mother.  At least not about stupid stuff like this - I need to save it up for talks about drinking and speeding and how she doesn't visit me enough in the nursing home. 

And it also got me thinking about how as important as this mothering business is, it is just as important that I don't lose myself in the process.  One day - before I know it, actually - Ashley and the boys are going to be grown up, living their own lives, making their own friends, having their own relationships, dreaming their own dreams.  And I am going to be on the outside looking in.  That's just the way it works, I guess.

And it feels like it's already starting.  

Siri and Me

So, I got an iPhone 4s a month or so ago from my work.  I was so EXCITED.  And one of the things I was the most excited about was having access to Siri, my very own personal assistant.

HOWEVER.  Siri and I are having a bit of a personality conflict.

(It's not me, it's her.)

Like the other day, when I tried to call my parents.

Siri:  What can I help you with?

Me:  Call Mom and Dad.  (This is how I have my parents' home phone listed in my contacts - MomandDad.)

Siri:  Which mom?  Mom or Mom and Dad?  (Mom is my mom's cell phone.)

Me:  Mom and Dad.

Siri:  Which mom?  Mobile or work?

Me:  No, I said Mom and Dad.

Siri:  Okay, Megan.  Calling Mom, mobile.

Me:  NO!  (I hang up and try again.)

Siri:  What can I help you with?

Me:  Call Mom and Dad.

Siri:  Which mom?  Mom or Mom and Dad?

Me:  Mom and Dad.

Siri:  Would you like me to remember that Mom and Dad is your mother?

Me:  Uh, yes.

Siri:  Got it, Megan.  Mom and Dad is your mother.

Me:  Great.  Call my mother.

Siri:  Which mother?  Mom or Mom and Dad?

Me:  Oh.My.God.

Siri:  I don't see "God" in your address book.  Should I look for businesses by that name?

I think I might need to fire her.