Public Restrooms and Why I Carry an Endless Supply of Hand Sanitizer

Have you ever potty trained 3 year old twin boys?  No?  Well, then this post is for you.  And for any friends out there who have higher order multiples (triplets +) then I give you mad props because it was certainly, ahem, challenging just with two.  The thought of more than two gives me a shudder that travels straight to my bones.

Okay, I may be exaggerating just a little, again.  While it did have its challenges, it was actually far easier than I anticipated which is why I didn’t even try until they were way past 3.  I could say that I just “wanted to wait until they were ready.”  But, really, I was just kinda lazy and terrified of failing.  And I didn’t want to clean up pee and poop.  That’s it, my confession.

So now they are potty trained.  Now what?  Now we have an unhealthy obsession with all public restrooms.  Which is probably my fault.

The first couple of times I ventured out with no diapers, I was a hot mess.  Terrified of having an accident, terrified of my kid standing there with a little puddle. 

Especially since there are TWO of them. 

What happens if there are two little puddles?  I couldn’t bear the thought.  So every single time we went anywhere for the first week or so, I would force them to the bathroom of each establishment we entered.  Sit them on the pot and wait.  Most of the time they would go and I would be completely validated and do a little dance.  No, really, I would do a little dance.  After all, have to keep the positive reinforcement going, right?

So I bet you were wondering what the other kid would do while his brother was sitting on the pot?  Why investigate every single bathroom stall and flush each and every toilet, of course.   And pick up trash off the floor and throw it away. 

All you germaphobes out there are probably cringing and rightly so.  I’m not even that big of a germaphobe and I even cringe and want to throw up a little bit.

So after we would potty and SCRUB hands, I would pick up my purse and head towards the door and turn back around to make sure the turkeys were following me. 

Nope.  In the 2 seconds it took to pick up my bag, they were right back at it.  Touching everything and flushing toilets. 

I am expecting a water bill from Target to arrive any day now.

Then, today, while scrubbing Hayden’s hands, I look back and Logan is belly down on the floor looking under a stall door, which just happened to be occupied.  That was a fun apology.  "Um, sorry, my 3 year old is a peeping tom."  Thankfully, the women appeared to understand.  At least she didn’t run out of the bathroom screaming, that’s a plus.

So hand sanitizer is my best friend.  I KNOW it doesn’t kill all germs but it does enable me to do one good scrub after our adventures in the public restrooms and then just pray that the precious clear gel kills the rest of the germs that come from handling toilets.

Public restrooms are my enemy and my turkey’s favorite play place.  Lovely, isn’t it?

Love and peace

~Andrea

Turkey Tuesday: A trip down memory lane

It's our second edition of turkey tuesday and I decided we need to take a trip down memory lane.  Perhaps, it is because the turkeys are especially driving me crazy today and I need a little reminder of how miraculous they truly are and how blessed I am to have them here AND driving me crazy every day...

June 20, 2008

2 lbs 5 oz

June 20, 2008

2 lbs 6 oz

My first time holding him

My first time holding both of them

About 2 weeks old

Our first family photo

Daddy and Logan

Big boy beds in their NICU room

I think this is Logan

Hayden was not a happy camper

Wow!  My hand sure tastes good!

About a week away from going home!

Finally, heading home!

Whew!  That was definitely good for my soul.  Thanks for indulging me!  Hope you enjoyed our little trip down memory lane as much as I did!  Happy Tuesday!

Love and peace

~Andrea

Just some random thoughts and step by step instructions on how to remove foreign objects from your kids nose

Our turkey day was wonderful.  We have started eating later the last couple years, after the boys get up from their nap.  I find I like that much better.  The anticipation of the meal builds and then you eat and eat and eat but aren’t miserable for the rest of the day, just a few hours before bed.

Black Friday sales were so tempting.  I thought about going out for about 25 seconds last night.  The thing is we don’t need anything.  Christmas for the boys is taken care of, thanks to garage sales and craigslist.  I already have a couple of gifts for David also compliments of garage sales.  We don’t buy any other gifts.  So I could have gone out, bought stuff we didn’t need and felt really guilty, ultimately leading me to return it the next day. 

David rented Cars 2 yesterday morning from the Redbox.  Now that is a brilliant idea.  David has looked for it online for the last week and finally was able to score it. 

Hang on, my kid just put a Trix up his nose.  I am not even kidding.  As I was writing my kid stuck a Trix up his flipping nose.  Be right back.

Whew, crisis averted.  Good thing the urgent care doctor taught me last year how to remove foreign objects from toddler/infant noses if they can’t or won’t blow.  Or if the foreign object is stuck.  How to do this, you ask?

Step 1:  Lay child on flat surface

Step 2:  Tip head back (like you were going to perform mouth to mouth)

Step 3:  Block the nostril closed that does NOT contain foreign object

Step 4:  Cover your child’s mouth with yours (just like mouth to mouth)

Step 5:  Blow HARD

Object should come flying out!  Hope this post will help save someone the cost of an urgent care/ER visit.  This was probably the most useful information I ever got from a doctor and it only cost me a $50 copay.  $50 for literally 5 minutes with the doctor.  You’d think the nurse from the pediatrician’s office could have guided me through this process instead of sending me to the urgent care.  Whatever.

So this post was going to be random as I didn’t have anything planned for today, but of course, the turkeys give me no shortage of material to work with. 

They always keep me on my toes. 

Love and peace

~Andrea

What I am thankful for...

Happy Thanksgiving!  I hope you all have a fun filled day of family, food and football!  It will be a beautiful day here in sunny AZ.  There is just something still so weird about cooking a turkey with my kids playing outside in shorts.

I am thankful for God, my boys, David, my mom and dad and all our family and friends all over the country.

And today I am especially thankful for only being responsible for mash potatoes.  So thanks chef for taking care of the bird and thanks to mom for knocking out the side dishes.  You all rock.  Guess I'll do dishes.

Have a safe and blessed day!

Love and peace

~Andrea

Toddlers and Flour

So has anybody heard about the toddlers and the 5 lb bag of flour?  Well, if you haven’t then your computer, phone AND T.V. must be broken.  There is a video on youtube that went viral yesterday showing a couple of toddlers going to town with a bag of flour.    

Yes, flour.

Man, did my heart just ache for this poor woman.  There is some muttering about on the internet that this was set up. However, as a mother of two toddlers myself, I definitely hear shock and complete disbelief in that poor mother's voice.  If this had been me, I would probably still be in the corner of the room, in the fetal position, rocking back and forth, well on my way to being committed.  

Um, yeah.  Thank God I do not bake.  Otherwise, I could totally see my turkeys doing this and with great enthusiasm.  Fortunately, I only have about 4 cups of flour in a canister on my kitchen counter.  Which means they would have to pull a chair over, climb on the counter and figure out how to open the container before anything really bad could happen.  Hmmmm….Note to self:  figure out how to childproof all cannisters.

Just because a 5 lb bag of flour is not readily available in our household does not mean that we have any shortage of objects to destroy.  Oh, no.  For example, my makeup bag is sometimes left on the bathroom counter.  Geez, David, how could you forget to put that away after using my eyeshadow?  I always put my things away…

Anyhow, let’s just say that Hayden found some mascara and had himself a grand old time.  Apparently, mascara does not taste good. Always good to have that information, you know, just in case you decided to try it out yourself. The look on his face was priceless; I’ll have to see if I can figure out how to upload cell phone pictures because David got a great one.

Then, yesterday, the same makeup bag was left out.  I really need to work on that.  This time Logan was the culprit.  Again, with the mascara!  You’d think they would select a much more toddler friendly tool, like eyeliner, or something.  Only he didn’t try to eat it, he just decided to decorate my walls.  And my vanity.  And the floor. 

Just a couple of days ago, a certain someone who shall remain nameless (ahem, David) left the pantry door open.  Let’s just say an entire box of spaghetti is no more.  Do you know how hard it is to pick up raw spaghetti off the floor?  Not easy, my friends, not easy.  

Not as difficult as a 5 lb bag of flour though.  I shall count my blessings.

Oh and just in case you were wondering who was who in yesterday's post.  Logan = fire truck shirt and Hayden = yellow moose shirt.  

Love and Peace

~Andrea

Turkey Tuesday

Wait!  Before you leave, this post, regardless of what the title implies, is NOT about Thanksgiving!  It may or may not be clear to you yet, but I have a tendency to call my children "the turkeys."  Why, you ask?  You know, I am not really quite sure.  

Maybe it is because they, from time to time, act like wild animals? 

Maybe because to call my children turkeys is much nicer than some of the other words that pop into my head on occasion, especially when they are systematically destroying my house or tearing down the aisles at the grocery.  

Nonetheless, I figured I may as well give you all a break from my ramblings about the kids and life and give you some pictures.  Because, let's face it, you probably want to see pictures of the children more than you want to read what I have to say.  

It's okay, I can handle it.  They are pretty stinking cute.  

This means that I actually have to take out my camera and take pictures, then, huh?  Ugh...I really do not like taking pictures.  I like even less loading them onto the computer and trying to find ones that are somewhat acceptable.  But, I will do it, just for you.  Because I am willing to sacrifice for the greater good.  

So that's what Turkey Tuesdays are all about.  Not just stories about the turkeys but some pictures of them too.  

Since this is the first turkey tuesday post, I want to play a little game.  The boys are NOT identical twins.  There are quite a lot of differences between them.  So let's see if you can guess which one is which?

Which kid is in the fire truck shirt?  Which kid is in the yellow moose shirt?  Leave your guesses in the comments section.  No cheating either!!!!

Please don't worry about the appearance of the head injury.  He bonked his head

 and insisted upon a "bandage."  I tried to talk him out of putting in on his hair, but that was an

 epic fail.  He kept it there ALL day!

I tried to get a little fancy with this one and then I couldn't figure out how to 

get the original picture back.  See, I suck at pictures.

This is his perfect smile.  The one that I can never capture on film!  

Well, almost never.

On the way up!

"Help Mommy!"  

"Hang on, Honey!  Let me get this picture!"

See, even at the park, they try to get away from me and get

as close as possible to danger.  

Even at the park.

One of their favorite things to do.  Chase.

The guaranteed end result.  Every. Single. Time.

Hope you enjoyed this week's Turkey Tuesday.  I guess taking pictures isn't ALL that bad after all!  Don't forget to leave your guesses! I can't wait to see how many wrong ones I get :)

Love and peace

~Andrea

Adventures in Garage Sale-ing

Don’t ever say no to a mom who is garage sale shopping.  I absolutely guarantee that you will live to regret that moment for the rest of your life.  Okay, maybe that is a little extreme, my husband always says I like to exaggerate to prove a point.  It could be possible he is right, but DO NOT tell him that.  I repeat, DO NOT tell him that.  He must never know that I, on very rare occasion, can be wrong.

Back to the garage sale.  A few weekends ago, the boys and I got dressed and headed out for the BIGGEST community garage sale in the East Valley.  There were 150+ houses participating, at least, that’s what the craigslist ad said and, you know, those are NEVER wrong. 

We began our journey and I knew it was going to be a rough one, because this neighborhood is not known to be one chock full of families, more like grandparents.  Case-in-point, this is where my parents live.  Thus, there would likely be an extreme lack of toys to keep the boys pumped up.  But we trudged on through anyway.

Finally, after about 10 or so houses, we find one.  Alleuia!  I could almost see the clouds part and a little beam of sunlight graze this home.  Almost.  From about 2 houses away I spotted what appeared to be toys and books.  Suhhhweeet!  Finally, something for the turkeys!  I already had a couple of good finds for mommy and daddy, but they were getting a little edgy. 

So we head on up and sure enough there were toys and a box of books.  The toys were girl toys, dolls and such so they didn’t hold the boys attention for long.  The books, though, there were some pretty decent books and I selected a couple of paperback childrens’ books I thought the turkeys might like.  I approached the owner of said books.  The following conversation transpired:

Me:  “How much for these books?”

Her:  “A dollar.”

Me:  “Okay”, and I hand her a dollar.

Her:  “No, a dollar each.”

Me:  “How about two for $1?”

Her:  “No.”

Me, flabbergasted:  “No, you actually just said no.”

She, lovely, greedy, woman that she was didn’t have time to respond as we hear a blood curdling scream.  My turkeys come tearing out of the garage with arms full of hot wheels.  Her son, the screamer, is after them, “Mine, mine, mine!” 

So after the uncomfortable conversation regarding the negotiation of the children’s books, we had to sit there and sort out whose cars were whose and her kid was freaking out.  It was fun.  (read awkward).

Although, I may or may not have been secretly grinning on the inside thinking, “Guess you shouldn’t have said no.”

Happy Monday!  

Love and Peace

~Andrea

God

God is great…yep, there I’ve gone and done it.  Turned my blog, after just a few short days into “one of those religious blogs.”  Well, not quite, but I thought it would only be fair to share with you how much I love God.

I am Catholic and proud of it.  Geez, there I’ve gone and done it again. 

Throughout my 33 years, I have dabbled in many different religions.  I’ve come and gone, drifting through, until circumstances changed and I changed.  I kept looking for something, looking for something I didn’t believe the church I had been baptized into could offer.  I was wrong.

I didn’t go to any church for approximately 12 years.  I never stopped believing in God or Jesus Christ, I just thought organized religion was not a necessity for that great trip to Heaven in the afterlife.  

What changed, you might ask?  September 12, 2011, I learned that an acquaintance from law school, Robin Evernham passed away from cancer.  She was a 32 year old mother of two little ones and a loving, devoted wife and she was just gone.  I did a little googling and stumbled across her caring bridge site.

Holy Moly!  Her journal entries and those by her husband, Scott, were filled with the most powerful words I have ever read.  Her cancer was of an unknown origin and she was diagnosed a mere year before she died.  Her journal was very personal, very poignant, very hopeful and joyful. 

Joyful.  Not a word one would normally associate with a diagnosis of terminal cancer.  But that is what it was.  Her absolute faith in God and His power and her trust in the Holy Catholic Church during this time of trial and tribulation was astounding.  It surprised me and made me really think about what she was writing.  I went back to that caring bridge site many times afterwards reading her many prayers and the scriptures she quoted.  Not once did she rail at God.  Not once did she say, “WHY ME, GOD?”  Instead, it was her absolute reliance and sheer love for God that made the last year of her life one of celebration instead of sorrow. 

I started thinking about my life and the lives of my boys, David, mom, dad, brother, and sister.  I started thinking about how I would want to react if a tragedy ever befell our family.  I knew I would want to be like Robin.  I wanted to put my life and the lives of those I love in the hands of God and trust in Him completely.  I wanted the love and faith Robin had to fill my life, not only during times of sorrow but EVERY single day.  

So I went back to my roots and I haven’t looked back.  

Love and peace

~Andrea

To Harness or Not to Harness

To harness or not to harness?  Your children that is.  I have always considered myself to be an anti-harness-er (is that even a word?), however, my beautiful, adoring, completely insane 3 year old twin boys are quickly encouraging me to rethink that position.  Of course, the reason I am even considering a leash, I mean harness for my children, is MY own damn fault, that’s what sucks the most…

I am, on a fairly regular basis (10 times per day, but who’s counting) smacking myself on the head (better than their heads) for selling my perfectly good chicco double stroller in a recent garage sale for a mere $15.  FIFTEEN DOLLARS and I sold my sanity and to a Jehovah’s witness no less. 

I thought they were ready, I thought I was ready.  I am definitely wishing for a time machine to make a quick jet back to that eventful day when I thought it would be a great idea to sell my sanity.  Most people wish for a time machine for other memorable, life changing events in their lives, you know, like the birth of a child, but no, not me.  I just want my stroller back.

So what if they, at 38 pounds looked like giants strapped in that wonderful contraption.  So what if, when we were in stores, they would scream and cry and twist and turn, causing fellow shoppers to glare at me for having the nerve to ruin their otherwise peaceful shopping experience.  So what if I would longingly stare at other mother’s 3 year old little boys who would hold hands in the mall, thinking to myself, yes, I think I can do this, they will stay with me, they love me….

HA HA HA!  Jokes on you MOM!  Instead, even after the stern discussions prior to entering retail establishments, about staying with me, about how they will get hurt if they run away, about how I will give them WHATEVER they want, if they will just stay with me (maybe a little more of a begging versus stern discussion, but whatever), the moment we enter a store I get the shit eating grins and off they go to wreak whatever chaos they are able to wreak while I chase them all the while blindly throwing groceries/toiletries/vodka into my cart (not too surprising that the bill winds up being 4x times what I had anticipated thanks to my little distractions).  

Why, you might ask, do I not utilize the beautiful carts with cars attached or the ones with the little seats?   Because they are ALWAYS broken, the straps, that is.  I have had many a discussion with customer service personnel at various and sundry establishments regarding these lack of safety devices, only to be told (quite rudely) that there is nothing they can do.  But I digress.  Back to the one person pity party I am having regarding my lack of stroller…

So to harness or not to harness, that is the question?  Honestly, I just can’t see strapping one of those monkey backpacks to my kid and going out in public with a straight face.  So here’s to praying they don’t kill themselves or anyone else in their quest for independence at the grocery store. 

Oh, stroller, how I miss thee

Let me count the ways…

Are you F*@$ing kidding me?

Yep, those were the first words I uttered upon learning that I would be giving birth to my now 3 ½ year old beautiful twin boys, much to the dismay of my husband who promptly punched me in the arm the moment the dreaded F word came out of my mouth. 

“Like she’s never heard it before,”  was my quick witted response to the punch (which did NOT leave a mark, by the way, no need to worry) followed by, “Hey watch it, I AM pregnant with your CHILDREN, not ONE child but TWO children.  You better be nice to me.” 

Actually, I’m pretty sure, I used that line numerous times during my pregnancy, generally after the 16 weeks of morning sickness subsided and I was craving delicious goodness like fried fish and chips from Long John Silvers at 9:55 pm.  “I’m having TWO, you better be nice to me.”  Insert sickly sweet smile and eyelash batting or maybe bitchy nagging, I can’t seem to recall which tactic I used most of the time, it gets a little fuzzy.  Although I’m sure David will remember exactly which tactic was used the majority of the pregnancy.  But, you know, I was HAVING TWO.

So that’s what began this crazy foray into our journey of parenting.  I think that will be an amusing story to tell the turkeys later in their lives.  Hopefully, they won’t be as horrified as their daddy by their mommy’s use of the F word.  Maybe I should share the story when they are teenagers and just learning how to swear and think it is cool to sneak in bad word every now and then.  Then, maybe, just maybe they will think I am super cool for, like, a second.   Then, it will be back to mean old mom.  I think I need to start taking naked pictures to use as blackmail FOR SURE.

So anyhow, after the dreaded F word was uttered and I am stuttering and stammering around trying to figure out how the hell we were pregnant with twins, the ultrasound tech says, rather brilliantly, of course, “Sometimes TWINS HAPPEN.”  I’ve been using that line pretty regularly too for the past 4 years.

So fast forward through a pretty tough pregnancy, HELLP Syndrome which required an emergency C-section at 28 weeks, a 71 day NICU stay, a move across the country to sunny Mesa, AZ and here we are.

Twins happen!  That’s what this blog is about…the happenings and crazy life of mothering twins and some of the other stuff that is going on in our lives.  I’ve been sharing a lot of my fun turkey stories on facebook which is great but some of the stories I feel like elaborating a bit on and don’t want my million facebook friends to get stuck reading a novel as a status update, thus, the blog was born.  Enjoy!