— I’ve been feeling increasingly pissy toward H lately and it is SO not-productive to feel this way. He shuts down the second he starts to feel criticized, which only serves to frustrate me further. I hate the “Pain Olympics” as you well know, but dammit! *I* have the harder job here, and I think that entitles me to ask for help as often as I need to. And when I don’t get the help I need, I think it entitles me to DEMAND it as necessary. I know that he’s sensitive, but I wouldn’t need to be bossy if he would occasionally offer to help.
And now I feel shitty because he really, really, really, REALLY does a lot around the house and always has. He cleans, he irons, he does the dishes, he folds laundry, vacuums, etc. I don’t do any of those things with any regularity (I occasionally do the dishes and I fold laundry about half the time), but then again, he’s the compulsively tidy one in this relationship.
Anyhow, I guess I just feel that if I ask him to watch a baby, that means that he should, I don’t know, INTERACT with the child. If I wanted to ignore whichever child, I could do that without his help, I think. It’s pretty easy: Put baby in swing. Leave the room and go work on the computer.
So yeah. I do talk to him about it, but it gets so frustrating to ask for every single individual task, to have to be so specific when I ask him for help, and then to be told I’m being bossy or aggressive(!) by being so specific.
But enough about that. I have read your comments on the topic, and I know I’m not alone in this assessment of the state of things as a mother to young children. This too shall pass eventually (I hope).
— I had a tiny, non-cancerous (we presume) tumor removed from my arm yesterday. It’s been annoying the crap out of me for a couple of years, only because it’s on the outside of my arm close to the elbow and it hurts like hell every time I bump it on something. It was inconvenient to have it done at this stage in the boys’ lives when I really need to freely use both hands (and when my neck/back are seriously wonky and my wrists are still suffering from the Mother’s Thumb thingy), but it really needed to be done, and I just couldn’t squeeze it in last summer before the IVF cycle started.
It’s weird to think about last summer. After we came back from Germany, I just happened to have my annual physical scheduled, and because of that, I ended up having several annual maintenance type appointments scheduled after that (optometry, dental stuff, dermatology, etc.), and all of those appointments were squeezed in before the start of my IVF cycle, so it’s now a year later and time for the next round of annual exams (the thorough dental cleaning/exam, the eyes checked, the pap smeared, whatever). And so, with each office sending me the reminders to schedule appointments, I can’t help but think what a completely different place I am in now as opposed to last year. Last year at this time, I didn’t even know precisely why we weren’t able to conceive, or whether or not the whole RE thing would work. And now? Instant 4-person family…
— I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the whole woe-is-me, this-crap-is-hard schtick that I keep repeating (here and in my head and to anyone who asks). And the fact is, yes, it’s hard, but it’s going to be hard whether or not I’m sitting on my bed nursing for hours on end, or if I’m at the grocery store or if I’m in the kitchen with them, or in the play room, etc. My point being that I don’t have to sit in this spot right here hating how hard things are– I can hate how hard it is in many, many different locations! And somehow, that makes it less-hard, I think. This morning, I got up, got the boys dressed, plopped them in bouncy chairs in front of me in the playroom, and then described to them in detail the purpose of each piece of laundry as I folded it. And that lasted for about 30 minutes, during which time I only managed to fold half of the laundry because I had to keep stopping to bounce or tickle or peek-a-boo the babies to keep them from sobbing (though they eventually sobbed anyway…). But! I was NOT sitting on my bed with a nursing pillow on my lap! I was not cajoling a boy into non-sob status within a five-foot radius of my bed! I was in a whole different room, and that (somehow) helped. Yes, inevitably, we ended up back here nursing (what can I say? It’s easier to nurse two of them in here, and then they fall asleep and who am I to wake them, so here we sit), but it somehow just occurred to me that if they are going to scream/cry/grouse anyway, we might as well all go do it in a place where *I* am comfortable and not-bored and able to get some things done, too.
— Along with the whole Might-As-Well-Cry-In-The-Playroom idea, I decided I also need to quit complaining about not having local friends (though JJ, I am TOTALLY going to start hounding you for a meetup, as soon as we get just a bit more into a schedule so I know when during the day the boys are least-likely to melt down… And then the rest of you NC-ers better look out, too, because I’m going to demand another NC meetup very soon!) and start reaching out to some local groups. Book Babies is GREAT, but if you’ve ever been to a meetup, you know that there’s lots of hand movement interaction and bouncing and baby-dancing, etc. and I cannot do that by myself with two babies (though I keep trying anyway– this week, I’ll try one in the Ergo, and one on my lap). So I need other kinds of interaction.
I thought I’d check out the local MoM group again, but featuring prominently on the About Us page of their website is the note saying that the motto of the national Mothers of Twins group is “Where God Chooses The Members”. And if you know me and my situation, you know why that might rub me the wrong way.
I don’t want to get too far down the religious debate path (especially where faith and ART science meet), but frankly, regardless of your personal beliefs, I’d argue that science has a fair bit more to do with a majority of multiple pregnancies these days (even if God moves the hand of the scientist, to say that God chooses who has multiples or not completely discounts the fact that the RE and the patient are the ones who create the circumstance by which the multiples occur). It makes me feel as though by promoting that motto so prominently, they are essentially showing some variation on that Asshole L&D Nurse’s point of view of preferring “natural” twins. And that doesn’t work for me.
And joining a group where members subscribe to the notion that God chose them to have multiples just doesn’t work with my personal (lack of) religious beliefs anyway. I mean, even if I did subscribe to a particular faith, it couldn’t be one of a puppet-maker god who had his or her hand touching all aspects all the time of every person’s life. That aspect alone is philosophically divergent from my core beliefs, even if the belief in a god were part of those core beliefs.
So. It’s not that I take issue with religion or belief in God, etc., just that I don’t know that I want to be part of a group that attempts to appeal only to people who would agree that they were chosen by God to have a particular path in life when I feel very firmly that God did not have anything to do with finding myself on said path. Again, that’s a perfectly valid belief for plenty of people, even those who pursue ARTs, but not for me.
— I REALLY want to have Lasik done. I am so flippin’ sick of wearing glasses. The boys are apparently sick of it too, if I correctly interpret the frequency with which they rip them from my face.
— It’s probably tacky to say so, but I find it hilarious that Henr.y has learned to lift his leg when he farts. Um, toots, that is. I was informed that babies don’t fart, they toot. So yeah, he “toots” like a real boy. Frickin’ hilarious.
— Tara over at Turkey In My Oven always finds the coolest stuff on the internet. Like the fact that you can have the President send a birth greeting to your child. I totally did not know this! Even though I am not Obama’s hugest fan, I think it would be cool to have the card for the section of their baby book where it asks you to write about what was going on in the world when they were born: Who was President when you were born? Um, THIS guy was and he sent me a card telling me how cool it is that I was born!
Um, I think that is enough for today. What’s up in your world? (Oh, and I asked it over on Facebook, but if any of you have any tips for trimming baby fingernails, please chime in and let me know. I’ve already cut J.ack two times so that makes twice out of two times I have attempted to use the baby nail clippers so far…)