Laughter is good medicine for crazy lives.

Life is going by in a blur of hectic survival these days, here's my attempt to not forget the laughter in it all.

** for those of you who can picture my kids raspy voices and over expressive faces...this will be alot funnier **

Last night after dinner:

Carter, when told they had about 5 minutes of play time before Pj's and bed:
"Come on Macy! We haven't a minute to lose!"

Macy, when seeing Ryan and I giggle as he ran away and clearly needing to feel like a part of the 'grown-ups':
"Oh my goodness, I just don't know about this."

Us, still giggling:
"What do you mean Macy, go play with him, he's just excited"

Macy, with a 16 yr old eye roll and hands extended, palms up:
"No, I know, I will, it's just, oh never mind, this is going all wrong."



Tonight, while playing in their rooms:

"Macy, nothing could change my love for you."
"You either Carter, you're my best brother."
"Macy, Im gonna marry you."
"Yeah, but we can't tell anyone cuz we're not supposed to."
"Okay."



I love my 'big kids'.

The Baby mindset

It's crazy what having a baby (or two!) in your home makes you immune to. As soon as your baby turns to a toddler you re-join the rest of the world and realize that certain things are infact odd behavior and not to be considered 'normal' or 'no big deal'. But somehow every time I've found myself in the infant stage, I quickly fall back into the mindset that allows me to process things like this:

Not only is picking boogers out of my kid's nose not gross, it's actually somewhat rewarding and addicting. Slimy, crusty, clear or green - makes no difference, get that sucker outta there!

Spit up from other people's children, is pretty gross and smells accordingly. Spit up from my child however can be caught in my hand, rubbed into my shirt, and dried in my hair so that unbeknown to me, a chunk of it is that lovely crunchy texture of fountain style bangs from the 80's.

When changing my baby's diaper, wipes are simply an extension of my hand. If poop gets all over my hands and fingers, who cares? It's not like it's REAL poop and I'll wash my hands in a second...when I get around to it.

And finally, (Warning: I am assuming 99.9% of readers are women, if not, sorry men!) boobs become something treated with the same level of modesty and discretion as; oh I don't know, a utensil. Why would anyone be weirded out when I mention they are 'leaking', or when I randomly grab and push at them to evaluate 'fullness', or by my constant references to 'pumping' them. Totally normal right?

Ah, motherhood.

Two of a kind?

Well, it's been 2 months. 2 months with my 2 babies, of whom I might mention may be the most unalike set of twins you will ever come across. Seriously, I couldn't catch a break and get two babies that actually behave similarly and need the same types of things, now could I? "No, her life is too calm and boring right now (went the conversation up in heaven as these two little nuggets were being knit together inside me) No, no, let's give her a challenge, let's really see how well she can handle sheer insanity and bedlam in her home by not only giving her twins but by making them polar opposites...yeah yeah, that'll be fun."

**And here ends my irreverence since I just heard thunder rumbling in the background and I'm not a huge fan of being struck by lightning.**

But really, let me take a second to tell you just how different these little guys are... we can start by looking at them.

Here is Jude at 1 and then 2 months.


And here is Noah.


Jude is my little peanut babe. I've never had a bitty baby. By two months all my other babies had chunked up to double and triple chin status, with rolly polly thighs and chubby little fingers to boot. But not my little Jude-dude, at 10.1 lbs he's boasting the 13th percentile in weight and proud of it. He's also the biggest mixture of the bunch as far as who he looks like, he's not a clear MacDiarmid (Macy and Noah) and he's not a clear Gross (Carter), he's just Jude. and I could drink in his teeny tiny features all day long. And then there is Noah. Noah is following in his big brother and sister's footsteps just fine. The piggy of the two babes, at 11.10 lbs he is gaining weight at rapid speed and is well on his way to standard baby pudgeville. And the differences in their appearance don't stop on the scale. Noah is fair, with his light skin and bright blue eyes, Jude is darker with brown hair and brown eyes. Noah is round, he's got a big old barrel chest and an 'outy' bellybutton, Jude is long and skinny with your standard 'inny'. I like dressing Noah in all shades of blue cuz it makes his eyes pop and I find myself leaning towards oranges, olives, mustards and browns for little Jude. (so emo I know :))





When it comes to eating, Noah is my sensitive baby, his tummy doesn't seem to like the dairy and caffeine that I so selfishly continue to consume (although I have cut back considerably), he's gassy and squirmy after a meal. Jude can take it all in stride though and aside from a fountain of spit up that pours from his unflinching little face he's quiet and content and a tad milk drunk after eating. Aaand...then they switch. Once fully fed and awake, Jude is my mover and shaker. His wiry little body will jerk and startle and kick and bat while his eyes stare out at you like there's toothpicks holding them open. Noah, once comfortable is super calm and will just lay and stare contentedly at nothing. And speaking of staring at nothing, he'll also smile at nothing. Really nothing. I was nursing him this afternoon and he kept pulling away to break into these wide grins and coos at the ceiling. He was not looking at me, or his brother across from him. He was quite literally looking into the air, and repeatedly cracking huge smiles that lit up his entire angelic face; I felt very left out of his inside joke with the...wall. Jude is a tad more coy and selective with his smiles. He gets you to beg and contort your face and ooh and ahh and make all sorts of silly gestures and facial expressions while he hints with the slightest twitches of his face that he may, just MAY be about to smile for you. He gives you just enough indication that he is paying attention and considering smiling that you keep trying for quite sometime without losing hope; and then finally, when he's decided you've earned it; bam, he will break out into a gummy, goofy open mouthed smile that could melt your heart.

Both boys dimples could turn glaciers to puddles in an instant.

Jude wants to be swaddled, Noah sleeps best on his stomach. Noah will eat and eat and eat, even in his sleep he can polish a bottle off in no time, Jude will lazily suck the day away and swallow basically nothing if he's decided he's not interested at that particular moment. Noah gets quickly overstimulated by noise and too much activity going on around him, on the other hand I actually dropped a glass full of ice and cranberry juice right on Jude's sleeping face (I was holding him asleep on the airplane flying back from market and we hit a bump...it's a long sad story) and the boy didn't even flinch, wake up or cry. Honest.

Jude is a champion napper (most days) and Noah a champion night sleeper (most nights). The boys quite literally take turns sleeping and their cries lull the other off to dreamland. When one baby stops crying, the other suddenly stirs, wakes up and starts to cry themselves. I am not joking. It's a conspiracy, I'm convinced.

If they weren't born on the same day, 7 minutes apart, I might really question if they were twins at all. They are keeping me on my toes that's for sure. But I'm trying to drink in their differences, remember them and celebrate them, I'm sure there are soo many more to come, after all it's only been two months!!

These are my baby boys. They are making life very interesting these days, and I love it (okay I'm working on it);)

Super Family

Look...in the sky...It's a bird, it's a plane...it's...

Supergirl

Superman

Spiderman and...

Batman!



All in one big happy family!

Macy and Carter both picked their outfits this year and were sooo excited to be superheros. I was about to resort to the good old peas in a pod sleep sacks from Babies R Us for the twins (because who really has the time for creativity these days??) And then my friend Sarah mentioned her one year old boy Barren was Batman last year for Halloween! Um...perfect much?! :) I had only one problem, I now had 3 superheros and 4 kids, I could NOT let one poor child be the misfit! Think of the years of therapy down the road! SO..I sprang into action and while Ryan and the kids carved pumpkins (see last pic for awesomely themed pumpkins!) I found a red romper and quickly stitched a blue felt spider onto it...it works right? (the answer here would be, "Yes Katie, it works perfectly, looks just like Spiderman, you're a creative genius")

Why thank you very much, you're too kind :) For that you can enjoy the rest of the pics!

PS- Apparently being a superhero comes with some hard core attitude. I kept telling the kids to make superhero faces and they just kept looking more and more angry :) I don't know what that's all about, but I'm picturing the teenage years and it's just not a pretty sight.


Don't let them fool you though, they're still all gushy inside!

I'm sooo there

I like to call the first year after I've had a baby; "The Babyhaze". I never really even realize I'm in it until right around that child's first birthday when the fog starts to clear from around my head and I begin to feel capable of engaging the outside world again. All of the sudden participating in things doesn't feel quite so overwhelming. All of the sudden I can remember important things without writing them 20 places and panicking every night leading up to them that I'm going to forget them. I start to feel more relaxed, I begin enjoying simple things more than I had been, I simply realize that I am starting to breathe normally again, and in contrast realize that I'd been somewhat holding my breath up until then; even though I didn't know it.

While the 'Babyhaze' does technically begin the moment the baby is born, there is a slight amendment to the phenomenon. The first couple weeks or so of being home with a newborn bring with it a certain adrenaline rush. For me atleast, it's not really that hard to wake up a million times a night, I don't notice the lack of sleep and I'm just kind of ready and up to the task of caring for this new little bean. All other life halts for a moment, and in that semi frozen state it is easy for me to zone in and rise to the occasion. I hit the ground running with a plan and schedule and I drink in my itty bitty babies. And then... things slowly start to crash. The lack of sleep starts creeping in, the buzzing of a busy life starts knocking at the door and I no longer feel allowed to hang out my 'do not disturb' sign. Basically, the haze sets in.

And I'm writing right now to tell you all...I'm sooo there . And here are a few reasons why I know that.

- I have yet to venture out of the house with all four children by myself, and I don't intend to any time soon.

- I spend all day every day attempting to shower, blow-dry my hair AND put make-up on before it's bed time again. I have only succeeded in this a handful of times in the last 7 weeks.


- I have absolutely NO idea which baby I held and rocked last night trying to get him back to sleep. Honestly NO idea.


- I realized the other morning as I ran my tongue over my very fuzzy teeth that I had NO idea when the last time I brushed them was.

- I unfortunately realized that while nursing and even though I vowed I'd brush them as soon as I finished, by the time the babies were done I had promptly forgotten all about said 'fuzzy teeth' and they remained unbrushed for another day.

- Ryan and I have resorted to utterly ridiculous bouts of passive aggressive, non-verbal communication (read: flinging covers back, tossing pillows, stomping, huffing and snorting) in the middle of the night; only to look at eachother sheepishly in the morning, giggle and admit our childishness and the wish eachother a good day; knowing full well we'll resort to the same shenanigans again that night.

- Tears fall from my eyes at the drop of a hat. They don't have to be warranted, I don't even have to feel sad and I certainly don't have to know the reason for them. They can simply come and go as they please, they've taken full reign over me and I am powerless to stop them.

There are a million more but I can't even tell you how long a post like this takes to get out with all the interruptions that come up throughout. I have been working on this entirely too long and now? I need to go to bed. Like STAT. So I will leave you with a few pictures. (Because what is a post without pictures?) These are from Ellie's fun newborn photoshoot with the boys weeks ago. They actually look very different now, but ask me if I've actually taken any RECENT pictures of them. The answer is no people, a big fat NO. So here are some old pictures. I didn't post any of teh adorable cute ones, those I will save incase I actually get around to sending out an announcement before the twins turn 21. Instead I figured I'd share some more realistic shots, bloopers; if you will. They much more accurately represent life in the 'Babyhaze' anyway.

Enjoy. And then shoot up a little prayer for me will ya? Thanks :)

On having two week old twins...

I have a minute to myself.

And I can't believe I can even write that sentence right now so instead of spending that minute explaining how that is even possible, I'll just tell you my husband is my hero and then continue on with this post.

Ah! I've been blogging in my fuzzy head for two weeks now, wanting to say hello to all my friends out there and tell you all a tid bit or two about all the changes and emotions and adjustments going on in our lives right now. And now that I actually find myself before my computer, with a moment to write, I'm paralyzed by all that I want to say and share. I feel like I've been holed up inside myself and my house for a decade already, with occasional visits from helpers and friends, but for the most part in a time warp all my own where I don't really interact or relate or engage with the outside world. If I could define life right now in one word it would be, intense.

Let me start by saying I am so enjoying my baby boys. I had so much fear and anxiety over what life would be like with them, what life would be like switching instantly from 2 kids to 4. It's as if I imagined they'd come out 2 year-olds all full of issues and mobility and I'd lose my mind trying to keep track of all four of my kids. I forgot how perfectly God designed the transition of bringing babies into your home. They are so sleepy and cuddly and squishy and yummy at the beginning! Yes, feeding and sleeping are incredibly time consuming and draining, but they also lay all bundled up like little burritos while you watch their teeny tiny faces twitch and gurgle and pucker and yawn. It is a slow transition in many ways, knowing that right now I need only care for their basic and fundamental needs, and then sit back and enjoy their ooey gooey newborn-ness the rest of the time.

Well, the rest of the time -that is- that I'm not running around like a chicken with her head cut off trying to care for my other two, very NOT newborn, children. Who have waaaaaaay more complex needs! And shall I be honest? That 'rest of the time', is pretty much no time. And that is part of what makes life so intense right now.

So I am tired and I am quite literally living as a 'shut-in' these days. And trying to get a handle on how to juggle this new life of mine is daunting; but there are these glimpses of such excitement that come over me as well. As crazy as it is, I am so excited to be here. At this place in our lives. Knowing my four children's names and faces, watching us unfold as a family, drinking in the baby powder smell of Noah and Jude, wondering in awe at how Carter simply transformed over night into such a kid, such a big boy with all the love and tenderness for his baby brothers that you could imagine. Watching in amazement at my oldest, her helpful heart, her capability to actually BE helpful this time around (as opposed to her 20 month old 'helpfulness' with Carter), her ever broadening world of activity, independence, friendships, skills and feelings. And I love getting to observe it all perched comfortably beside Ryan as he and I venture through all this craziness together.

I look forward to telling you more about Noah and Jude in the days to come, hopefully a bit about their birth-day, how their names came about (because MAN! was that the roughest time I've had in my whole life making a decision!! - I'm still driving Ryan crazy asking if he's sure we picked the right names, but I heard it's crazy expensive to change them now, so I guess they're stuck with 'em) :) and just more about life in general; all with pictures to boot.

But for now, my time has definitely run out and I need to sign off. Thanks yet again for being my outlet to the world!

Till next time! (and I have no idea when that will be!)

PS- Did anyone notice that my waiting game post was actually posted on the day we ended up going into the hospital?! I was wearing the same outfit in the pic as in the first video footage of Ryan and I headed into the hospital. Guess I actually accomplished my goal of getting a pic on 'the' day, like I'd wanted to!

PSS- I am missing the hospital crushed ice so much it has actually crossed my mind that it may be worth having a fifth kid JUST to get to have giant jugs full of it again...does anyone have ANY idea where else besides hospitals you can find that ice?? There HAS to be an easier way than having another baby! Why in the WORLD have they not invented refrigerators that produce that kind of slushy goodness? (Am I seeming a bit extreme in my love for this particular ice? Cabin fever friends, cabin fever, give a girl a break)

Final PS (I told you I'm a bit crazy right now) - Here are a few pics of the four kids just to whet your appetite a bit until I can get around to some more serious picture sharing... As I said before, Macy and Carter are just LOVING their baby brothers.




Noah

Jude

then there was six

Ryan has made a 'Non-graphic birth video' for each of our kids. I told him he was lucky because he got a 2-for-1 deal this time and so even though his life is ridiculously beyond busy these days, he still managed to put this together and make his wife oh so happy. I love having these quick little videos to capture the miracle of each of our kiddos arrival into the world. (You can go back in the archives if you want or click on their names to see Macy's or Carter's, they are some of the very first posts on this blog back in '06. We have aged a bit since, it's kinda of scary to compare)

So without further adieu, to Ryan: thank you for another precious memory, and to my blogger friends: meet Noah and Jude...

Ah, the waiting game.

Well, when you're not sure if you could be headed into the hospital at any minute, it sure makes for a funny 'routine'; I'll just say that our family's hygiene has been impeccable lately :) The things I've found myself doing the past week and a half that I normally wouldn't include:

- Showering, blow drying and straightening my hair in the middle of the night while counting contractions, only to have them stop.

- Bathing the kids every night

- Letting Macy wear the same exact thing two days in a row cuz I wanted to allow her to wear it to the hospital and both days was 'convinced' today was the day.

- Going to bed every night with make-up ON so as not to have to reapply in a rush!

- Taking pictures of my belly every day in attempt to capture documentation of 'THE last day' these boogers were inside me

- Cleaning/ picking up my house every morning and night so as not to be caught in the hospital while family and friends make their way through it in a total wreck!

- shaving my legs every other day (NOT easy!)

And lest you think me extremely vain and feel tempted to comment something like 'Man looks at the outward appearance the Lord looks at the heart' to knock me off my clearly prideful and superficial butt... I will simply remind all of you that my water broke like Niagara Falls at 7 am with Macy forcing me to head to the hospital with two day old fuzzy french braids, no make-up and an over-sized Forrest Green Michigan Tee (stained in paint) paired with humongous gray sweatpants. And I simply don't care to repeat that experience, judge me if you must.