Minimalist wardrobes for myself and my twin babies

I used to really enjoy writing in this blog, and then life became more complicated than I would have liked for a bit. During that time I wrote a lot of posts in my head and they never made it to the computer. I've still got a lot of interesting articles stuck up in my brain and I want to get them on here... Some of them are really deep and heavy, others are light and fluffy. I'm going to jump back into writing with a light and fluffy piece.

We have too much!!!

Too much clothing, too much rich food, too many toys, too many distraction devices, too much "free" time, too many space holders, too many books (that go unread), too many... just too much everything!

Now... I am of course speaking from a place of privilege. As a white, middle class woman who lives in a first world country I have a lot that many people in this world lack. Though I've come to notice that most of what I have does not generate happiness or a better life for me... most of what I have just seems to collect dust and need constant organizing and maintenance!

It's important to be aware of privilege when talking about decluttering or becoming minimalist because there are so many people who's life cannot be improved by owning less socks. I also do not seek to romanticize the idea of owning less because I am aware that there are so many out there who really could use, among other things, that pair of socks.

That said, my big project currently is downsizing everything my family of four owns so that we can move in (temporarily) with my parents in an attempt to pay off our student loan debt so we can return to our lavish lifestyle in our 850 square foot house in the city ;) hint: I'm a bit frustrated that our student loan debt has made it so difficult for us to live our simple, one income life in our small house. Oh well... It is time for me to let of that and move on (I'm still working on the letting go!)

Moving on.

I do not own an insane amount of clothes... and neither do my babies. But since the four of us will be living in 1.5 rooms for the next two years we need to be very picky about what we will take with us.

Here was my pile of clothes before decluttering:

I had two bins of clothes that were either too big (left over from pregnancy), out of season, or just stuff I didn't wear. Then I had a drawer full of out of season clothes that I wasn't wearing, and a laundry basket of clothes I was wearing (because there was no room in my drawer I couldn't put stuff away.) So, you can see from this photo that it's not an insane amount of clothes. If, like most people in the USA, I had my own dresser and closet these close would all fit quite nicely. But, in our home, I share a dresser with my wife and have no closet. We will have a closet when we move to my parent's home but we will have much more than just my clothes to store there.

My method was to sort all of my clothes by type. Shirts, pants/shorts, socks, underwear, bras, exercise stuff, and pajamas. The two biggest piles were exercise stuff and shirts. I have a lot of weather specific exercise stuff... so I must be that guy who is out running in ALL the weather... nope... I do dream of being that guy, but I'm just me. I play roller derby and sometimes I cross train. I want to exercise more, but having a great big pile of exercise stuff hasn't helped me yet, so most of that got the ax! 

The t-shirts were a little harder to declutter... I don't feel as though I have a specific style. I just put on a shirt and pants and move forward. But I have always wanted a style. So I've tried lots of different shirt/pant combos to find that style. It's hard to let go of a shirt that is just waiting for the perfect pair of leggings to finally unveil my style. So, here I have decided to let go of the ides of having a style.

Here is a photo of almost everything I kept. (There is a dress that's already packed away since it isn't good for breastfeeding, the clothes I was wearing, and some stuff that was dirty.) Everything in the bin is out of season clothes. The stuff on the floor fit into my 1.5 drawers in our dresser.

Here is my discard pile... which actually got bigger recently as I found a bin of more clothes from pregnancy. Since I'm back to my old size now and I'm not interested in getting pregnant again all of that stuff is moving on.

This is my big drawer. I still think I have too much exercise stuff... Most of it is roller derby jerseys. I think I have three sets of black and white scrimmage tops! I don't know why it's so hard to part with them... But I think they will find there way out in a future purge. Pants/shorts on the right. T-shirts and tank tops in the middle. Pajamas and exercise stuff on the left.

This is my little drawer. Bras and underwear on the left. Swim suit and socks on the right.

And that's it. That's everything that remains.

For me... Now on to babies!

We are VERY fortunate to have received a large amount of hand me down clothes from friends. As much as I would love to buy all of my own baby clothes (from sustainable and ethical sources of course) and create a really cute baby style for them, it just isn't in the cards for us. Babies can be expensive, and twins can be REALLY expensive. But, when you have very little money, babies can also be surprisingly simple to maintain with a minimalist approach.

Here is the vast amount of baby clothes I currently have. (And I do believe this is the third time I have culled their clothing!) I also have a TON of receiving blankets. The clothes in the foreground were all in their tiny closet. And the clothes in the back were in bins in the basement waiting for the girls to grow into them.

My process here was the same as with my clothes. I sorted everything into type. I also had a discard pile for things that are too small or just not something I want to use with them. Since they are now nine months old I've gotten a better idea of what clothes work best with our lifestyle (Our babies wear clothe diapers with wool covers, which a pretty bulky, so a lot of baby clothes just don't work well)

Here were the categories I had: long sleeve onesies, short sleeve onesies, pants, shorts, pajamas, dresses/rompers, socks, stockings, bathing suit, shirts, tank tops, jackets and hats.

I decided that if I do laundry twice a week I should need to following:

5-7 short sleeve onesies

5-7 long sleeve onesies

4 pairs of pants

0 shorts 

(none of the shorts I had fit nicely over our diapers... and our diaper covers work well enough on their own as shorts)

4 pajama sets

10 dresses/rompers

5-7 socks

2 stockings (that's all we have anyway)

1 bathing suit (again, that's all we have)

6 tank tops/t-shirts

2 hats

2 hoodies

This is everything I kept for BOTH girls. And the main reason I tried to keep to those numbers was because I had so many things I loved. My mom knits beautiful things for them, and we have received some really cute things as gifts. Not to mention the fact that the hand me downs we have received were in great condition and super cute too! I honestly had a really hard time downsizing the dresses and rompers. So I have decided to keep more than 10... I think we have 16! As the girls grow out of them I will not be replacing them until I get to about 6. Then I think that will be a good number.

Here is what their closet looks like now. On the hangers are all the dresses and rompers. In the left box is onesies and tanktop/shirts. In the right box is hoodies and hats. Then there is a box you can't see that has 6 blankets and their socks.

The rest of the stuff I kept is in just one bin. I only kept a few of the long sleeve onesies and pants out since it's so warm here now. I really do look forward to downsizing this even more as they grow out of stuff.

I'm lucky to have babies that don't spit up much, so we can get away with very little. When they were super tiny they would stay in the same sleeper for 2-3 days! They are just starting to become mobile and I really hope they love to dig in the dirt and play with sticks!! Lol... so this kind of minimalist wardrobe might not work so well in a year, but we shall see.

I'd love to hear what you think about minimalist wardrobes! Do you think this could work for you? What would be the hardest part about downsizing?

Thanks for reading :)

I Can Never Appreciate You Enough - Musings On Death And Life

So much in this life is replaceable.... My clothes, my car, that electronic device I devote so much of my time to.

With all this constant replacing, I sometimes forget that not everything is so easily replaced. Those minutes I spent listening to my babies giggle, the time spent with my mother remembering my childhood, the hour my sister and I danced around each other's hearts together... These are the moments I can never replace. And to think, those experiences were all just a "smart" phone notification away from never happening.

Last week my 24 year old cousin died suddenly. 

It's so different to mourn an unexpected death. I was so sad recently when my 84 year old grandfather passed. He was living in hospice care. We had time to prepare... Time to say goodbye.

This time, not only has a sweet and beautiful person been stollen from us, but we were also robbed of the chance to say farewell... To say I love you... To give one last hug.

To say, "Danny you will be missed," is insufficient. But what else is there? I am at a loss of words.

I wish I'd had more chances to share my world with yours. I love you Danny

How I Survived The First Three Months With Twins

First the disclaimer: I'm not writing this post to tell you how you should do or should have done things. While I was pregnant I read many of these types of articles and most of them didn't really match with how I wanted to raise my children... So I think I should share my experience, ideas and reflections just in case there is someone out there who wants to do things the way we do things.

My girls are almost four months old, and a few weeks ago I felt like we were coming out of a dark tunnel! The first three months are hard... It really is all about survival.

I gave up on the following things:

A clean home

Regular showers

Exercise

Making all of my food from scratch

Going to friend's houses

Working a job

Reading books

Watching TV

Playing video games

Crafting

Helping other people

Doing it all on my own

These are things I'd like to get back into my life, and though we are moving past the survival stage, this is still pretty hard.

I've broken this article up into five sections:

Sleep and Feeding

Mental health

Self care

Asking for help

Baby gear and diapers

Sleep and Feeding

Here is what I had planned. We would have our bed on the floor with a crib mattress next to it. The babies would sleep on the crib mattress next to us. I would bring them into our bed to nurse them then return them to their mattress for sleep. There is a crib mattress in the floor in their room, and that's where they will nap during the day.

That was the plan... One of these days I might just realise that plans are for suckers!

Here is what actually happened. When E came home after 33 days in the NICU I tried to sleep next to her, but I couldn't. She would grunt and call out in her sleep. And I woke up at the tiniest noise! I was so tired and still healing. So she stated sleeping in her room. She would cry when she was hungry and we'd get up to give her a bottle, then put her back in her room... Then, after 39 days in the NICU, W joined her sister in their room. 

After 2 weeks of waking up to screaming babies, warming bottles and pumping while giving bottles my wife and I were both exhausted. I began to show signs of postpartum depression. This was not working.

After meeting with my doctor and a counselor we decided that the six hour breastfeeding window that E was allowed was too restricting for me. They gave me the go-ahead to nurse her as much as I wanted and we now had weekly visits to check her weight.

Slowly I nursed E more and more, and eventually at night too. W still had not latched so we would wake up at night to nurse E, bottle feed W and then I would pump for W before returning to bed. This was still exhausting, but one of my babies was nursing full time, this kept my spirits high :)

By the time the girls were 2 months old they were back to the crib mattress beside our bed. And after a week of lots of skin to skin W was nursing full time too!! Now I started bringing the girls into bed to nurse them. I'd keep one on the crib mattress and one on our mattress with my back to my wife. I'd lay next to which ever baby woke up and nurse her while laying down. It was very uncomfortable to lay on the crib mattress so eventually both girls came into the bed and my wife moved to a couch near our bed. This is when things really started to work! 

Now at about 9pm we double diaper the girls and I bring one to bed with me while one snugles with my wife. I nurse the first baby to sleep and if the second baby didn't fall asleep in my wife's arms I now nurse that baby to sleep. That's usually when I pass out. My wife often stays up to play video games or watch a show, because self care and me time is important for everyone!

I nurse the girls on demand through the night... Barely waking up each time to latch them then passing back out. After the 5-6ish AM feed I get out of bed to pump. I make extra milk at night and I don't want it to go to waste. Some times the girls sleep until 7 or 8, sometimes they don't. When they wake up my wife gets them so I can finish pumping or eating my breakfast.

Then I nurse them on demand through the day. We still haven't figured out how to do daytime naps... But I'm sure that will come in time!

Mental Health

I mentioned above that I developed postpartum depression when my babies were one month old. I'm not sure why it took that long to hit me. Maybe I was still in shock from their stressful birth, my painful recovery and the scary NICU stay. 

I struggled with depression through my twenties, so I recognised the signs, and I knew I had to get help. I couldn't let this get too bad because I wanted to be there for my babies. I feel very fortunate that I was able to see the signs and strong enough to reach out.

One day my mom was visiting and I walked her out to her car. I hugged her and said, "I know it might look like I've got this... But I really don't!" And I started to cry. She held me tight and said she'd be back tomorrow, and any day I needed her. She still comes over three times a week, I'd be lost without her.

I do not like going to counseling. And I absolutely hate meeting a new therapist. But I forced myself to go. I even tried to take the medicine they gave me, but it changed the taste of my milk and my babies we refusing to nurse and take bottles so my doctor and I decided to end that.

Sitting in front of my therapist I barred my soul and admitted to all the scary dangerous thoughts banging around in my head every Tuesday morning. I'm so lucky to have found such a sweet and carry therapist, I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't found her.

Two months after I started treatment I'm starting to feel like myself again. I wish I had started counseling while my girls were in the NICU. My advice to anyone who has been through a difficult birth is to seek counseling before symptoms erupt.

Self Care

While I was in the darkest weeks of depression I stopped showering, stopped socializing, stayed indoors and stared at my phone. I didn't do anything for me. Even when I ate I did it just to make milk for my babies. And I ate mostly crap.

Working with my therapist I came up with several necessary things to do to take care of myself.

First of all I came up with a plan to return to playing roller derby. Prior to my pregnancy, derby was my life. Today is the third practice I'll be on skates for. It's scary to put those skates on. My body is weak and I'm afraid it will break... But I need to risk that in order to maintain my mental health. I used to be really good at roller derby, and it's hard to stay positive when I struggle so much to get up from the ground. It's hard to believe in myself again. I'm not there yet, but I know I'll get there. It may sound strange, but even something like believing in yourself takes practice. And I'm practicing that a lot these days!

I also found a breastfeeding support group. They meet every week, and I go each time. It's such a wonderful place! Being around such warm and enthusiastic people who are walking a similar yet unique path feels so good. There is even another twin mom there! The other mothers just help me to feel so good about myself, it's like a drug!

I know I need to do more for self care, but I'm afraid to take too much for myself. I have two brand new people to take care of and an amazing partner to love them with. These three people mean the world to me and it's hard to take time away from them. I'm working on it, and I've decided that slowly I'll figure out something that will work for us all

Asking for help

This has always been hard for me. 

I'm tough. I'm smart. I'm a problem solver. I don't quit. I'm always better than before...

Except when I'm not...

I also break. I make mistakes. I choose poorly. I make wrong turns and I have given up... For a little bit.

I don't know if it's ego or pride or DNA... But asking for help is hard for me. And now I must remind myself that I'm practicing. I'm not supposed to be good at this yet. I'm just practicing.

One of my friends organized a meal train for us during December. It was so helpful to get some food and not have to do dishes! I've had several friends come over so I could take a nap. My mom was here almost every day for a while. And sometimes when she wasn't here I'd just call her up while the girls were crying and I was alone. Even though she wasn't with me I still felt less alone.

Reaching out is hard. But I can't imagine how I would have gotten through the past four months without all of this help. Thank you.

Baby gear and diapers

And now for the fluff. Which is a pretty literal statement when you cloth diaper your babies.

Here are the things I can't live without:

A large firm mattress bed

Sleep sacks

Clek carseats

Spotify

Breast pump

Nipple butter

Kiki Pura bottle with Lansinoh MOmma nipple

Second hand clothes from friends

Moby

My brestfriend twin Breastfeeding pillow

Nursing bra and pads

Green mountain cotton diaper flats

Rumparooz covers and snapies

Lots of food

Here are things I have an love, but could live without if needed:

Bugaboo donkey twin stroller

Rock n plays

Breastfeeding stool 

New cellphone (with a much better camera!)

Wool crib mattresses

Changing table from Craigslist

Custom baby books from etsy

So, as you can see, I'm pretty minimalist with my baby must-haves list.

And just a quick note on diapers. People are often surprised that I cloth diaper twins. It was a choice made partly due to cost and partly due to my belief that cloth is better for babies and the environment. I chose flats because they are cheap and very easy to get clean. In total we spent about $350 for all our diapers wipes and covers. These should keep both of our girls dry until they are potty trained. Washing costs about $100-$200 a year. So that's a pretty big savings. There are many other options, must of them were just too expensive for us. But these diapers work perfectly. And if we didn't bring home super tiny NICU Babies we could have skipped the newborn diapers and saved $80 :)

So that's it. That's how I've survived the first three months. Thank you for reading and I hope this helps someone.

A Portrayal Of Modern Motherhood: NICU Edition

"How does it feel to be a mother?"

This pregnancy has brought me many questions to ponder. And now that my children are living on "the outside" I've got new questions to address. 

Answering the above question always feels so strange. While I was pregnant I assumed that after hours of painful labor my first child would emerge from it's quiet cocoon and our eyes would meet and that would be it. I would be a mother. And then, because I have twins, I would get to repeat the experience within the next hour. I would be a mother twice over. It would be such a powerful experience, one that would live on in my memory for all time.

Of course, life had a different plan. 

After living in the hospital for a week, my preeclampsia had progressed to the point where it was no longer safe for me to stay pregnant.  Doctors decided that, at 33 weeks and 5 days gestation, October 17th, 2016 would be my children's birthday. And it was like nothing I could have ever anticipated.

First of all, baby A was not head down which meant I would need a c-section. This didn't really bother me. A lot of people have c-sections. I wasn't really excited about the longer recovery time compared to a vaginal birth, but I knew it would be worth it to have my babies come into the world safely. I knew that since the babies were being born so early I probably wouldn't get the chance to hold them right after they were pulled out, but at least I'd get to see them before they were whisked away to the NICU. And my wife would be standing next to me so we could experience the birth of our children together. I now had a new image of childbirth in my head. 

And that's where I learned, once again, the dangers of holding on to expectations. The doctors told me that my platelets were too low for a spinal and I would have to be knocked out for the c-section. Because of my preeclampsia I would be hooked up to an IV drip with anti-seizure medicine for 24 hours after they pull the babies out, but the nurses assured me that they could wheel me over to the NICU to see the babies with the drip. Here is where it makes more sense to just write a list of how insane everything went from here.

- Because I wasn't going to be awake for the birth of my children, my wife could not be in the operating room either. She waited outside the room and was let into a side room once the babies were out so she could be the first to see them. From there she could see the wall of blue scrubs around my unconscious body for a moment before the babies were rolled out into the hallway for the rest of our family to view on their way to the NICU.

- I woke up in the PACU (Post Anesthesia Care Unit) alone except for my nurse who taught me how to use the green button which would deliver a narcotic when I felt pain. I was already hooked up to the anti-seizure meds and they were checking my blood pressure regularly to make sure I was stable before sending me up to the recovery room. 

- I wanted to look my children in their eyes before I looked between their legs. But shortly after waking up I noticed additional bracelets on my left wrist. No one told me to expect these. So of course I had to figure out what they were. When I saw that one bracelet said "Baby girl A" I rolled my eyes and thought to myself, "well, I might as well just look at the other one" which read "Baby girl B." I smiled. Though I missed their birth and still hadn't seen their faces, this was the only connection I had to my children. 

- Eventually they wheeled me back up to recovery. And this is where things get a little fuzzy for me. My girls were born at 4PM on Monday. And I cant remember if the things I'm going to write about now happened Monday night or Tuesday morning.

- At some point the pain of my incision had been eclipsed by the pain of seemingly immovable gas in my abdomen. Pushing the green button no longer provided relief so I ignored it and focused on breathing through the pain as best I could. The doctors sent me for an x-ray to make sure that there wasn't anything else strange happening in my body. I couldn't sit up or stand or walk. They had to move me to the x-ray table. But I had to help position myself. They pain was stunning. In fact this was such an amazingly painful experience, I had completely forgotten about it the next day... I think my body was trying to protect my sanity. When the doctors mentioned it at rounds I had no idea what they were talking about and must have looked very foolish when I asked for clarification.

- After the x-ray I was returned to recovery. 

- I was still on the IV drip on Tuesday. But now I started to talk strange. I wasn't making sense (apparently... all I remember was how hard it was to focus and make sense of what other people were saying.) The doctors assumed that I had mistakenly received too much of the narcotic pain killer from the magic green button. I remember my mom telling the doctors that I had only pushed the button twice in the last several hours. The doctors looked at her suspiciously and consulted the green button. To their surprise I had received significantly less pain killer than what they feel people need after major abdominal surgery. Then they checked my blood and found my hematocrit was quite low and decided to give me a blood transfusion. At this point my children were now a full day old and I still could not even sit up in bed. I had not seen them, though my family had. And they brought me pictures... A very poor substitute for the real thing. 

It's hard to feel like a mother when you don't get to see your children. And it's not just about seeing them. I wanted to touch them, hold them, smell them, hear them, watch them... I wanted to feel them again. I wanted to feel them with every sense I had. I didn't miss being pregnant, but I missed feeling my babies twitch.

After the blood transfusion I was taken off the anti-seizure medicine and wheeled back to the floor I was living at before the babies were born. My new nurse knew of me though this was the first time we met. She came in and asked me how I was and asked me how the babies were. I tried to be cool about everything that had happened, but I quickly became emotional because I still hadn't seen my girls. She was shocked to learn that I hadn't been out of bed in over a day. She was also shocked that I still had a catheter connected to my leg. I was really lucky to have this nurse. Because of the gas moving was still excruciating, but some how this woman got me up and into a wheel chair. And she wheeled me to the NICU and I finally saw my girls. They were in isolettes but I got to reach in and hold their hands.

Meeting Baby A. And you can see by the look on my face how overwhelmed I was. 

Meeting Baby B. It was hard to fit my wheelchair next to these isolettes.

The next day they let me hold Baby A!

If there is a heaven, then I think it feels like this.

After this my recovery consisted of blood pressure checks every four hours and trying lots of different dosages to keep it at a manageable level. I needed a second blood transfusion when my girls were three days old. Then the doctors thought my incision was infected, but it turned out I was allergic to some adhesive they used in the surgery which caused my incision to turn bright red and puffy... it looked like a creepy clown smile! Then my body broke out in itchy hives leading the doctors to believe I am allergic to Percocet, the pain medicine they gave me. Finally they could let me take ibuprofen (which I wasn't allowed to take until they had my blood pressure under control) and the hives started to go away. 

Slowly I learned to walk through the pain and weakness of more than a month on bed rest. Three days ago I actually stopped using a wheelchair! Now I can stand up next to my babies' cribs and change their diapers, check their temperatures and kiss their faces when ever I want to. I can even pick them up and carry them to a chair. Though that's always a scary thing because they are still hooked up to monitors and I'm afraid I will trip. But has the days have passed the number of lines and wires connected to them have decreased and it has become much easier to hold them.

I even get to hold them both at the same time now! :)

This really was the best thing ever.

And now my life is one of pumping and going to the hospital. Our girls are learning to eat with their mouths and are getting stronger and bigger every day. We keep getting closer and closer to taking them home.

So, in a couple of days I will have been a mother for three weeks... and I'm still not sure how to answer that first question. How does it feel? Over the past month my feelings have ran all over the place, I think it will we a while before I can actually process everything that has happened to me.

I'm not even sure if I feel like I AM a mother yet. Our children are cared for 24/7 by amazing NICU nurses. My life is about pumping, waiting to go to the hospital and dragging myself away when it's so late that I really should be sleeping! It's hard to find balance when you are a parent... I know this from all of my friends who are parents. But maybe finding balance is just another expectation I need to let go of. These are choppy, uncharted waters and I can't make a stormy ocean a calm ocean. But I can accept this all for what it is, what it was, and what it will be. And through that acceptance perhaps I can feel some peace...

Or maybe I'll just be a goofball and laugh my way through it all ;)

Progeny, Preeclampsia and Privilege

Progeny (noun) - a descendant or the descendants of a person, animal, or plant; offspring.

Preeclampsia (noun) - a condition in pregnancy characterized by high blood pressure, sometimes with fluid retention and proteinuria.

Privilege (noun) - a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group of people.

Me 32 weeks 4 days pregnant with twins

Over the past couple of weeks, the above words have been a driving focus for nearly everything I do. Now, over the past five days these words have eclipsed nearly every other aspect of my life.

I don't even know how to start this story. Honestly, so much of it is a total blur. I'm going to be much less exact than I would prefer to be and basically summarize. About a month ago I stopped working as I had begun to have problems walking for more than five or ten minutes without becoming extremely winded. For those who don't know me well you should understand that I am a competitive athlete. I play roller derby and I run. So, feeling winded after a ten minute walk felt down right absurd. Everyone just kept reminding me that I'm building two humans in my uterus, and of course that's going to take a lot of energy. So I just went with everyone else.

Then I had a couple strange lab results. Then there was some odd swelling. But in both situations my body quickly corrected itself. My doctors suggested a modified bed rest and asked me to stay off of my feet as much as possible. I have no recollection of when I had the first high blood pressure reading. It was definitely a surprise to everyone. Throughout this pregnancy my blood pressure had been perfect. But at that point the doctors asked me to be more firm with my bed rest at home. I actually had some people come over just to make some food for me, I stopped going anywhere, I stopped adding salt to my food... Basically, I did everything I could think of to manage my blood pressure without medical intervention. This was also when I started to research preeclampsia. This was my favorite informative video about how this condition develops and progresses for those who want more information.

And again here is where things are a little fuzzy... So, I'm just going to write this journal-style:

Friday - Doctor's appointment to check blood pressure and protein in  my urine. Diagnosed with mild preeclampsia and put on full bed rest at home. (or maybe this was last Wednesday... It's honestly a blur)

Saturday - Went in to triage because I felt off. Blood pressure was elevated and labs were not happy. They gave me a steroid shot because my babies are only 32 weeks old to give their lungs a growth boost in case I become too sick to carry them.

Sunday - Went to triage for a planned appointment for the second steroid shot. Blood pressure much elevated again. Doctor asked me to spend the night at the hospital for monitoring, so I was admitted.

Monday - Spent the day at the hospital being watched closely. Labs and blood pressure not reassuring, but not bad enough to progress to the next stage, they kept me over night again.

Tuesday - At the 4AM rounds my blood pressure was seriously elevated (and I felt like crap.) I was staying at a lower level hospital where my twins could not recieve adequate care if they were born at 32 weeks. I was given lots of medication, some that made me feel really horrible. Then they called an ambulance and strapped me in for the short ride to our big hospital that has a very advanced NICU and a special floor just for people like me who are having a hard time staying pregnant and healthy. They didn't let me eat all day, or drink anything because they didn't know if they could get my blood pressure under control and feared a cesarean would be necessary. Finally things relaxed. And I don't think anyone knows why. This just seems to be how it goes with preeclampsia, sometimes things are ok, sometimes they are not. Sometimes things calm down and sometimes they progress to very dangerous places very quickly. Eventually I was allowed to eat and moved to a room for high risk pregnant people and checked every few hours by nurses, techs and doctors.

Me on Tuesday having dinner in my room. That's the smile of someone trying to be tough.

Wednesday (today, my babies are now 33 weeks old) - Once again, the 4 AM rounds turned up dangerously high blood pressure. The nurse rechecked me three times over the next half hour and it just kept going up. She called in a doctor and they gave me some fast acting medication to lower things. The medicine worked for a short while and then things spiked again, so they gave me more. Then I was put on a longer acting version of the medicine and that seems to have been holding things steady throughout today. They keep asking me about symptoms like headaches, and seeing sparkles or bright lights and pain my my abdomen. I don't have any of that. Aside from my BP spikes and my crappy blood levels its hard to know I'm sick.

Today I was given a tour of the NICU. It is very impressive. It was also very overwhelming.

I've cried several times today. I don't think I've ever really felt truly helpless. There have been times where I thought I was helpless, but really I just needed to do something different or scream louder... But now there is literally nothing I can do but wait. Wait and trust this huge team of strangers to watch me closely. I'm very fortunate to have so many friends and family members who work in medicine. I know the kinds of people who choose these jobs personally, and that helps me to trust these strangers.

But seriously, it's really hard to "keep it together." And I'm pretty sure I'm all over with trying to appear strong. I know that I have no control over this situation. I know that this situation is temporary. And I also know that, at 33 weeks my babies have a very good chance of living and being healthy. But all that knowledge does nothing for me... It doesn't help me feel stronger or more capable to handle this. For the record, I know no one is expecting me to "keep it together" but that doesn't change the fact that I want to be stronger so I can cope better with this.

The one thing that is kinda helping me is privilege. I can't stop thinking about how privileged I am to be where I am. I live in a world where my wife and I are able to have children. I live in a world where most people accept and support our relationship and our little family. I live in a world where I am given access to the most amazing support medical science has to offer.

I keep thinking about the people in Haiti and Jamaica. I know there are pregnant women there too. And I am sure some of those women are sick, just like me. I can't imagine what it must be like to live through a disaster while trying to keep your babies alive inside you. The fact that I am here, and that those women are there is due to nothing other than luck. I'm not a better person, I don't deserve better care... I just get it, because of who I am and where I live. And that, sadly, is how our world works.

This sucks. It sucks a lot. But I am still so lucky.

I wish this luck wasn't just for me.

The Daycare Interview Question That Stumped Me!

For the past three years I have been running a small registered family daycare in my home. I've cared for kids as young as two months and as old as eight years, and anywhere from 1-8 kids at a time depending on the day and time of year. I run this daycare completely on my own and prior to opening the daycare I had little practice taking care of children on a daily basis. So, to say I experienced a stiff learning curve might be a bit of an understatement.

Though I had taught middle school and worked with kids as young as five in a school for multiply disabled children, my knowledge of how to manage a home with kids in it was pretty slim. Which is why I started reading parenting books shortly after I opened my daycare. I've written on here before about some of the books I've read and how they have helped or harmed my relationships with the children in my care. Over the past three years my "parenting method" has continued to evolve as I've gained new knowledge about different ways to work through conflict with others.

Last December I started walking a new path toward conflict resolution that I haven't really spoken about as much as I would like to... mostly because it's so different.

And I hadn't even realized how confusing it could be to talk about this new way of life, until a prospective daycare parent asked me the very common question, "So, what is your discipline method?"

It was almost an involuntary reaction to open my mouth and attempt to respond. After all, that's what my mouth was accustomed to doing when someone asked me a question... unfortunately my brain was stuck. I really didn't know what to say and sat there with my mouth agape and silent. This was May, and I had been experimenting with my new conflict resolution tools for about five months, and I still felt very much a novice. How could I explain my methods to someone when I had such nascent confidence in my ability to actually DO the thing I'm doing (at least consistently?)

Lucky for me, this mother was a good friend of one of my good friends, so I was just honest with her, I basically said, "I honestly don't know how to explain it... but I can tell you what I don't do. I don't use timeout, or punishments at all. I don't use redirection or try to convince kids that 'everything is alright.' I don't force kids to share or even say thank you or please."

Now there was a bit of a pause. I knew what this sounded like... it sounded like permissive parenting... just letting the kids do what ever they want and me having no 'control' over anything. So I quickly added, "why don't I give you an example of how things usually happen?"

And then I described a scenario, I cannot remember what scenario I used, so I'm just going to explain a real life situation that happened in my daycare.

Two of the kids I cared for were about two and a half years old when this happened. They usually played together really well, but sometimes struggled with sharing (totally age appropriate in my opinion.) On this occasion they were playing with the little kitchen and B wanted the toy J was playing with but J didn't want to share it. So B grabbed the toy and J pushed B away. Then B became very angry and raised her hand over her head ready to hit J. I was about three feet away so I stepped in and put my hand in between B and J. B ended up hitting my hand instead of J. Once J knew she was safe she moved back a little and kept playing with her toy. But B was still very angry and raised her hand again and tried to push past me (This all happened in about five seconds! LOL) I said to B, "It looks like you're really angry about something." B growled. "Are you angry because J has a toy you want to play with?" B screams, "YES!!" and continues to try and push past me to get the toy. I say "I will not let you hit J." At this point B starts to stomp her feet and tantrum (We're about 30 seconds into the situation now.) I say, "Wow, you are really upset that J won't give you that toy, I'm really sorry about all this." After a few more stomps B's entire body language changes. She starts to cry. I say, "Are you really sad because you didn't get to use that toy." A tiny little "uh huh" escapes B's lips and she lands on me with a pathetic hug. I rub her back for a couple seconds.

J comes over and offers B a toy (I honestly can't remember if it was the toy in dispute) seeming to say, hey friend, let's play. B giggles with delight and the two are off playing again.

I know that was a lot of words, but the whole interaction lasted between 60 and 90 seconds. And that is a pretty typical duration for these types of conflicts.

If I were to use more a traditional discipline method then first I would be forced to judge which child was in the wrong. Was J wrong for not handing over her toy, or was B wrong for physically insisting on sharing? Also, most tantrum solutions require a child to be removed from the situation for several minutes which could make the conflict last much longer. And children are often told to "say sorry" when they come out of timeout to show remorse... though I doubt very young children really understand remorse as we would like them to, and I wonder if older children just "go through the motions" and say they are sorry with no feeling of remorse.

With the method I have been using:
- There is no judgement, shaming or coercion.
- Empathy is key.
- All emotions are valid and are treated as such (no one is told to not be angry or sad even if these emotions make bystanders feel uncomfortable)
- The conflict is resolved without punishment.
- The fact that children are impulsive, curious beings with an underdeveloped prefrontal lobe (the part of your brain responsible for executive function) is respected.
- My relationship with all children is maintained as a relationship based on trust, respect and compassion.

I could write about this method for pages and pages, and could talk about it for even longer. I've wanted to write this post for a long time, but I've been letting the perfect get in the way of the good enough. It's REALLY important for me to tell people about this method, because I really think it could help build stronger bonds between children and their caregivers. This method is probably very different from how most of us were raised, which is why it isn't really that easy to do. I mess up a lot. And I could write an entirely different post about how I cope with my own short comings... but maybe another day.

If you are interested in this, please contact me. I would be happy to help people learn more about this.

I have learned a lot from Janet Lansbury, who is a guru of sorts when it comes to peaceful parenting. Her blog and podcast are gold and I look forward to new posts and casts like a kid looks forward to the ice cream truck on a muggy 93 degree day.

I also recommend the books Unconditional Parenting by Alfie Kohn and Nonviolent Communication by Marshall Rosenberg. There are lots of other great books on this topic, but those are my two favorites.

In closing, I'll just leave you with one thought. Chances are, if you are a parent or a caregiver, as an adult, you had the power to choose that role. Fortunately few of us are actually forced into this role these days (at least in The United States.) I just want you to think about the fact that your child had no choice to be here, and quite possibly, they feel they as if they have very little power over their own life. That can be a difficult thing for a person, of any age, to work through. But since we chose them, we can choose to be there for them when they are struggling with the many difficulties of learning to do all the things.

Much love.
And as Janet says, "We can do this!"

Why My Babies' Gender Won't Be A "Surprise"

Actual scene from Monty Python's The Meaning of Life 1983

I've been pissed off about gender since puberty.

I remember being the tallest kid in class. I remember being really strong and tossing the bullies around the playground. I remember when we all got to be the same. And then, everything changed.

Suddenly my male friends were taller and stronger and my female friends were interested in things I couldn't care for (makeup, dating etc.) Of course I know that not all girls become super girly... If I existed, there had to be others like me. And as an adult I've met men that I can still toss around (mostly on the roller derby track though :p) Although I know that the aforementioned affliction, puberty, does not adversely effect all people to such extremes, as a kid I felt really confused when this massive transformation began.

In middle school I was lucky enough to discover a great group of awkward, eccentric, down right weird-o friends and they acted almost like a buffer zone so I could still be me. Unfortunately, none of them came with me to college, and I found few people like my teenage friends during my 20s. Then, in my 30s roller derby saved me! I'm now happy to say that I live in a bubble of human individuality which gives me a place to feel safe, accepted and loved.

And now I'm pregnant.

This new adventure has taught me much, and has forced me to really think deeply about things I've always just accepted. Why do I feel/think/act this way? Where did it all come from? Do I actually like it? Do I want to change? I've needed to challenge many of my long standing principles because now not only do I need to make my thoughts on certain things known (because people ask pregnant folk all sorts of questions) but I often have to stand up for what I believe to be best (because people like to tell pregnant people that they don't know what they are talking about... aka "advice.")

Case and point:

My wife and I have no interest in our babies' sex. If we didn't need to have an ultrasound every 3-4 weeks then this wouldn't even be an issue, because we wouldn't be able to see their genitals until after we get to meet them face to tiny face. However, being pregnant with twins means that the doctors watch things really closely because things can go wrong quickly. I'm glad my doctors want to keep us all safe. I just wish that I didn't have to talk about whether or not my children have penises so often.

It seems REALLY odd to me that it's OK to talk about a person's genitalia just because that person doesn't know how to talk yet. I mean, think about it. If you met an adult who didn't really look like a man or a woman... you'd probably be really cautious about using pronouns (he/she) until you knew the person's preference. Right? But with babies, for some reason the rules are different. Apparently it is everyone's right to know what's going on in your baby's diaper. And my babies don't even wear diapers yet!

OK, I'm trying to hold the rage in... This topic has been irritating me for quite some time now. So I apologize if I come off sounding self-righteous and indignant. But let me tell you about my most recent encounter with this issue.

Last week I needed to go into the hospital to check out some issues (fret not, all is well.) While I was there the Physician's Assisntant who was tending to me and asked the ever so common question, "So, do you know what you're having yet?"

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OK, I have to pause for a second and just tell you how much I HATE this question. Do I know WHAT I am having yet? Like the humans growing inside of me are THINGS??? Seriously? UHG!!! I'm so fed up with the concept of parents treating children like things rather than people. And it starts before the kids are even born!! And comes from medical professionals! Seriously, I strongly believe that the way we speak TO and ABOUT children has a profound impact on how they develop... But that's a topic for another post that I've been trying to write for a month or so... Stay posted ;)

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I've heard this question so many times that I've got a stock answer for it:
Inquisitive Person: "So, do you know what you're having yet?"
Me: "Yeah, we're having humans."
IP: LOLz

And that's usually where it ends. The person realizes that I am not going to discuss my babies' genitalia with them and they move on. But every now and then, people continue to press for information. Usually I think these people don't understand sarcasm, or humor, or me. So I then clearly state, "We are not finding out the babies' sex before they are born." Well, that usually leads to them smiling and telling me what a great big surprise it will be to gaze between my child's legs shortly after they are born...

...creepy...

Anyway, back to the PA.

After delivering my typical responses she decided to politely imply that we were making the wrong decision. She said, with a near grimace, "I mean, sure, you can buy a bunch of yellow and green clothes now. But then, after they are born, you aren't going to want to go out to Target and get all the pink or blue stuff you'll need. It's really best to just be prepared."

...

... ...

... ... ...

Sometimes I really miss being an irrational, emotional, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants, imprudent teenager who has a "problem with authority." Life was so much "easier" back then. I really just wanted to scream at her... but I also wanted to get out of the ER and go home. So I swallowed my pride and decided to ignore this person who I would probably never see again.

For the record, let me get a few things straight:
1. Boys can wear pink.
2. Girls can wear blue.
3. I really, honestly and fully do not care what my babies' genders are.

And, perhaps most importantly:

4. I do not believe that knowing what kind of genitals my babies are born with will give me ANY information about who they are. I believe that who a person is, goes so much deeper than what society says they should be based on the presence or absence of a penis.

And, also important to note, just because your baby is born with a penis or a vagina does not mean that they will be a boy or a girl! I have several friends who were born with one style of equipment and later in life shared with the world that they were born with the wrong parts. I get it, I run in a weird circle, where I actually encounter people who are different from me... but come on!!

So, will the gender of our babies be some exciting surprise my wife and I are looking forward to? No. Google defines surprise as an unexpected or astonishing fact. Discovering if our children have a penis or a vagina will not be unexpected or astonishing... I'm fairly certain they will have one or the other.









Disclaimer: I know that there are some people who really care about gender... And that's their thing. I wrote this because there are people like me, who don't give a flying fuck about gender, and maybe the next time you encounter someone like me you could just let them be. (Disclaimer for the disclaimer: By "you" I mean, that guy that probably won't read blogs like this... so don't worry, I'm probably not talking about you.)