Para-Para-Paranoid!

The other day I confessed to my sister that I entertain myself during the day by playing the "What would I do if I went into labour right NOW!" game (also known as the "What would I do if my water broke right NOW!" game). It's terribly entertaining. I'm a self-confessed plan junkie, so you can understand why I get such a kick out of this. Besides which, there just aren't that many entertainment options while on bed rest, other than cheesy Christmas movies, of course.

Anyway, so I told Amanda that this is how I keep my thought life active and ward off the potential take over of pregnancy brain. She countered by saying that she frequently plays the "What would I do if I got attacked right NOW!" game. Essentially, these are the same thing. Having a baby (or two) is pretty much equivalent to being attacked. Once again, I realize that my sister and I are pretty much exactly the same person. Except for the short/tall thing, the single/married thing, the no kids/kids thing, the Africa/rural Oklahoma thing, and a few other…things.

At any rate, while the practical side of me hopes I make it to my scheduled c-section date, the part of me that loves a good story imagines me saying, "So, I was singing 'Father Abraham' with the boys before bed, and…" Because how funny would it be if my bed rest version of "Father Abraham" (which is quite an entertaining sight, let me tell you) was the final straw that broke the water's sack (or the camel's back)? Yes, I know. Not funny to anyone but me. And possibly my dad who passed on his penchant for punny jokes.

Other things that I am imagining these days: both twins coming out female and breaking that news to the Man over Skype, my belly literally splitting open, and how nice it's going to be to finally cut my toe nails and shave my legs (I have really great friends here, but there are limits…). Obviously some of these things are more likely to happen than others. As in: I'm pretty sure we can trust the results of the twenty gazillion ultrasounds I've had, and I'm pretty sure it's scientifically impossible for the twins to rip their way out of me (since, as far as I know, they are not half-vampire). Still, all this paranoia is keeping me thoroughly entertained!

And so I wanted to share.

I will also share this picture of me finishing out week 34 like a boss. And yes, on those rare occasions I do get out of the house, I'm getting some massive double takes.

Shirt courtesy of my former partner in pregnancy
who deserted me for a cute baby 4 weeks ago.

Choices

I'm sitting in bed listening to Christmas music while I eat homemade pumpkin bread (hand delivered by a grinning Littles--he also included half of a slightly mushed banana) and balancing a cup of coffee on my gigantic belly. I've been intending to come write for about a week now, but I will just be honest: I have been a whole gigantic mess of crabby lately.

I'm tired. I miss the Man this time of year. The aforementioned gigantic belly is extremely uncomfortable. I'm in those last lovely hormone fluctuations that make me so much fun to be around. And Tiny got bronchitis this week. All that to say that I'm spending all my strength these days trying and mostly failing to be nice to the wonderful family that's stuck in this house with me 24/7 (and then working up the energy to apologize), and there just hasn't been much left for superfluous things like answering the phone (sorry) or responding to non-husband sent emails (sorry) or blogging (probably no one needs an apology for this one although it's questionable whether anyone needed an apology for the other two).

The good news is that I have only about 3 more weeks to go before a scheduled c-section and then you won't be hearing from me because I'll be juggling twins--and not because bed rest sapped the survival skills out of me. The disappointing thing, for me at any rate, is that I spent most of Thanksgiving, one of my favorite holidays, being Queen of the Grump. It's not that I don't have a lot to be thankful for. In fact, I can give you a whole list of wonderful things that I'm rejoicing in--and I am grateful these days that joy and gratitude are choices--it's just that twinancy is exhausting, guys. And I prefer not to expose others to the unfortunate effects of that unless absolutely necessary.

But anyway, since I haven't had to expend any energy this morning by getting out of bed, I thought I would share with you a few things that have been fun in the midst of the mess.

On Sunday, it snowed! I had additional appreciation for this since it meant that the Fairy God-Aunt couldn't fly home until Wednesday. I was not sufficiently apologetic about this either, but we had a lovely day eating cinnamon raisin biscuits and playing in the snow. Well, everyone else played in the snow. I stood at the window and took pictures.

Even the Trig-dog went out. His Thanksgiving bandana kept him really warm.

The boys used socks for gloves because somehow
all their mittens disappeared between last winter and this one.

This was my failed attempt to lure them over to the window for a cute picture

And this was before Tiny realized how cold he was,
freaked out,
and came back in for snuggles with the live heater that is my pregnant belly.

Snow garden!
An improvement on our normal flower-less bed.

Then Sunday night, I had two lovely teenage girls come by to supervise my sister with the Christmas decorations.  I diligently sat on the couch while they unpacked our scraggly Christmas tree and strung lights.

The Man is hoping these two girls will follow us throughout his career
and repeat the process every Christmas.

Trigs got into the Christmas spirit
with his penguin tea cozy hat.

The nutcracker got hungry.
And yes, this is what the entire house would've looked like
if I'd let Amanda decorate the whole house on her own.

At any rate, there have been other things to rejoice over this week: a crystal clear Skype video with the Man on Thanksgiving, the little men helping fold laundry, Tiny having bronchitis but not pneumonia, fun moments with Amanda and other friends who have bopped in and out of the house, every day the twins have stayed put. You get the picture.

We choose thanksgiving even on the hard days, and that's the victory--not having everything go our way. And no, not even "feeling" great about how everything is going. So yes, I'm crabby, but I'm still grateful. Happy Thanksgiving, a little late, everyone.

It Takes A Village (To Survive Bed Rest)

I spent the morning at the Frizz Salon, the only hair cuttery I know of where you can sit on your bed and have your hair trimmed by play dough tools, where your barbers stop mid cut to give you lots of hugs, and where your hair cut is followed by a lego back massage.

Incidentally, it's also the only salon where your barber might forget what he's doing and decide to accidentally whack your head with the hair dryer.

Really, I deserved a morning of pampering because yesterday the Trig-Dog decided to slip his collar while my sister was walking him and managed to escape off base. I spent the afternoon in agony, first imagining how I was going to tell my husband his beloved dog was lost forever or possibly run over by a car, and then, wallowing in embarrassment when two of the awesome cops the Man works with had to spend close to an hour chasing down Trigger on foot.

Good thing that the donut eating cop stereotype doesn't apply on base.

Also, it may be another year before I show my face at the squadron again. Just saying.

Part of this is because when Trigs got returned to me by the two sweaty and out of breath Security Forces guys I was still in my pajamas and rocking unwashed hair (day four of unwashed hair to boot). The other part is just unadulterated shame because this is not the first time that Trigger has single-handedly re-tasked half the squadron. Lastly, Trigger may or may not have eaten through 2 whole bags of the K9 units dog treats during the chase down process (he's sneaky), and I have no clue when I'll be able to get to the store to buy replacements.

Incidentally, if I had been chasing down that dog while carrying a weapon, the Man might have come home to a taxidermied Trigger.

Anyway, on a completely unrelated note, you should know that it's getting hard to type on my laptop these days. The belly…it just won't stop growing. I told a friend today that I actually wished the Man was a little bit of a fatty so that I could still fit in his shirts at this point, but no luck (see above comment about donut eating cops). Instead, I'm wearing maternity dresses as shirts.

The truth is that I watched my sister do a Jillian Michael's work out today (in fact, our whole family watched, especially Trigs who kept trying to see how close he could get to her and then accidentally got kicked in the face), and as she diligently mountain climbed and super-manned her way through twenty minutes, I realized that even if I wasn't on bed rest, I am completely incapable of doing any of those exercises now. Well, I might be able to pull off a plank, but my belly would be resting on the ground.

I will tell you what I did do though. On Saturday, I busted out of bed rest. Yes. I did. I'm a rebel. Well, technically, I got my doctor's permission and took with me all my medical records for this pregnancy (which could've thrown me into active labour because they're starting to rival War and Peace), but I drove an hour away and got family Christmas pictures taken! Sure, three other adults had to go with me in case I spontaneously decided to push out the twins halfway between here and there and I wasn't allowed to go into the Target with everyone afterwards, but I. Did. Something! Other than sit in bed and grow twins, that is.

That's where the title of this blog comes from though. It seriously is taking half the base to keep me sane and taken care of right now. It's a little ridiculous. Soon, though, I plan to enlist at least two of my friends to stand next to me fanning me with peacock feathers at all times because I'm not going to lie--the hot flashes this time are a beast.

And that is my rambling, completely nonsensical post for the week. The End.

Twinternational Nursery!

It's finally here!

The moment you've all been waiting for!

Take some time to head over to my friend Rachelle's blog to see the big nursery reveal! And after you leave her adoring comments, come back by and tell me what you think.

Big thanks to Rachelle for creating such a beautiful nursery for the twins--and for being so flexible with me when I bailed on her for bed rest. Thanks as well to the wonderful team who stepped up to help whether through painting (and dealing with my amateur painting skills), moving furniture, ironing bedding, or sewing (and resewing when I realized measuring is not in my skill set). I'm thinking now that it won't be so bad practically living in there for the first few months of the twins' lives...

Because I Love You Too Much To Let You Be Bored

I have another few posts in the works, but if you are pregnant with twins and stuck on bed rest, I couldn't leave you without some easily accessible and instantaneous reading material. And for those of you who aren't pregnant with twins and stuck on bed rest, I know the question at the fore front of your mind is how I'm surviving house arrest. Here is your answer in the form of multiple blog links. Go ahead, grab a cup of coffee (decaf, in my honour) and waste a few minutes reading with me.

First, because we all need a little awesomeness and creativity in our life, and because there is no such thing as too many dinosaurs, check this out: Dinovember!

Then, to hit on a few more serious notes, here is one of the best words of encouragement I've read in a while: "Everything isn’t a marker to make you feel behind or ahead; everything is a flame to make you see GOD is here," writes Ann Voskamp. And have I mentioned recently how much I love her? I just received her latest book in the mail, a collection of readings for Advent, and I hope I can update you on it towards the end of December, that is, if I survive the "advent" of the twins, haha. 

{Aside: I love being pregnant at Christmas. Seriously. I know I don't normally tell you things I love about my pregnancies, but there's just something about being pregnant at Christmas--even if I miss the entire Advent season because I'm on bed rest.}

While you're poking around on Ann Voskamp's blog, go read this challenge for Thanksgiving, because "What if gratitude always meant a question mark — asking how will you let your gratitude to Christ mark the world for Christ?"

And then, since we're prepping for the holiday season already, run by Jen Hatmaker's blog and join me in thinking about what we really want to be saying through our Christmas traditions. Special props to my oldest sister for sending me that way today: she knows how I enjoy a thought provoking read that still makes me laugh. This paragraph just had me howling:

When we saw the mountains of presents in front of our P.R.E.S.C.H.O.O.L.E.R.S. and watched them rip through boxes so fast, they had no idea what they even received, I caught Brandon's eye across the room and mouthed, "We were freaks!" Not to mention all this bounty was brought into a home burgeoning with loot already, so we had to get rid of a bunch of toys just to shoehorn in the new stuff. Kindly note that the recipients of all this commerce couldn't even wipe their own butts yet. 

Insane at best, sacrilegious at worst.

And then if you're wanting to explore some alternative giving options, bop on over to the Neverthirst website and check out what they're doing around the world. This is the company my not-so-big sister works for and you can read her personal (and absolutely insane) stories over on her blog, Dangdut. And really, this whole blog was just a giant lead up to tell you that she's coming to see me on Friday, and I am insanely excited about it (hence the italics and bolding), and I'm still mad at myself for forgetting to mention her in my last post, but at least it gave her plenty of fodder for snarky comments about her not-so-little sister.

Two more completely unrelated comments:

Aunt Beth is busy teaching my non-reading three year old how to do a word find and his gasp of excitement upon finding "yellow" helped me reconcile myself to the fact that when I asked him earlier if he would hate me if I did his word find, he actually said yes. I personally believe that telling a woman on bed rest that you won't share your word find puzzle is equivalent to stealing food from a pregnant woman. It should never be done if you value your life. Thankfully, I found a free word find app on my phone, and I may now survive until the babies arrive.

Today I realized that if I lived in the world of Harry Potter, my patronus would be a burping camel. I may never be the same again.

Anyway, happy reading and come back later for more self-mockery, some potentially deep thoughts, and new reading material (next time in book form).

All This

This week, I was reminded of this brief story told by Charles Spurgeon. He writes,

I have heard of some good old woman in a cottage, who had nothing but a piece of bread and a little wafer, and lifting up her hands, she said, as a blessing, "What! all this, and Christ too?"

These words have been constantly in my mind the last few days.

On Tuesday, Tiny got a virus (or his two year molars decided to really put us through the wringer) and had fun exploding diapers and vomiting everywhere for a few days. We think we've finally turned the corner on things, and Aunt Beth hasn't had to change sheets in two whole days, but the super abundance of bodily fluids in our home has not helped with the cabin fever.

On Thursday, Littles lost it and I had to play the "let's call your daddy" card (or rather the "let's text Daddy, see if he's free and has a phone card, and then wait for him to get a good signal" card) for the first time this deployment. And have I mentioned recently enough how much I appreciate the Man? Because when I asked, he uncomplainingly left the gym, tracked down a phone card, and called to talk to his son and then his overly hormonal wife, and did not once make me feel like I should've been able to handle things on my own.

On Friday, the need to nest hit yet again. Have I mentioned on here recently enough how difficult it is to nest while on bed rest (that rhyme bothers me)? So, being a nerd, I engaged in intellectual nesting by reading Secrets of the Baby Whisperer by Tracy Hogg, which unfortunately only took about 24 hours before I started cheating on bed rest and conning Aunt Beth into ironing all the linens for the nursery/guest room. She loves me. And I am also now being bullied into resting more, even if that means busy work in bed.

Anyway, all week, I've been thinking about that story from Spurgeon, thinking also about how much of a mind game this is right now. The days are long, and I have a little too much time to think, and it's very easy to count the frustrations instead of the blessings. So, as the hours have passed, I've been trying to focus.

When Tiny throws up, I choose to say thank you that these stomach troubles occur when Aunt Beth is here to help with clean up, and as I say thank you, I remind myself that God has given me all this, and Christ too.

When Littles has a melt down, I choose to say thank you that I have an accessibly deployed husband who will take the time to be dad, and as I say thank you, I remind myself that God has given me all this, and Christ too.

When my antsy-ness is about to drive me mad, I choose to say thank you for the many people who have come to help me get the house and nursery in order (and for the ability to sit on the bed and pack and repack the hospital bag half a dozen times in a row), and as I say thank you, I remind myself that God has given me all this, and Christ too.

So, as I continue to choose my focus, I wanted to share a few moments of joy with you. These things that God has given me (and Christ too).

An early Christmas present from my in-laws, crocheted by the Man's grandmother years ago, I need this constant reminder to choose peace instead of anxiety. I hung it where I can see it literally all day long.

It looks like we've turned the corner on sick. It's fun to be able to give Tiny something that's not on the BRAT diet.

Snuggles with Aunt Beth and the Trig-Dog while looking for pictures of white lions, while I rejoice that for once my over-large belly isn't being sat on or poked by these little bundles of energy who don't grasp the concept that twinancy is uncomfortable.

There are few things I love more than yellow flowers in my house. The sweet friend who brought them by probably had no idea how these would cheer up my week.

Tomorrow is 32 weeks, and the twins are hanging tight. Yes, daily, hourly rejoicing in this. Also, does anyone else think my belly has shifted? Aunt Beth and I are placing bets.

Bribing myself to stay home from church with cookies and coffee. It's always the little things that get us through.

Stacks of books (read and unread), flower pot gifts for the twins (if anyone knows who sent these, please tell me, so I can send them a thank you note for the fun interruption to my week), and the constant reminder that I can choose in everything to give thanks.

All this, friends, and Christ too.

Happy Sunday. Thank you for being the Church to me when I cannot physically go to church these days--I can't tell you how that encourages my heart.

Bullet Posts Are My Favourite

Well, bullet posts and coffee and little boys setting up their own Easter egg hunt on a rainy day in November are all my favourite things. You know what's not my favourite though? Having autocorrect take the "u" out of all my Britishly spelled words.

• I've turned into pregnant Bella from the Twilight series: my unborn children are sucking the life out of me. (This blog in no way promotes or encourages the reading and watching of poorly written vampire narratives: indulge at your own risk. Possible side effects include, but are not limited to, loss of brain cells, a fascination with glittery things, and the desire to emulate heroines who possess no sense of self-preservation.)
• Crap-tractions: they aren't cramps and they aren't contractions, but they sure are crappy!
• Benjamin Franklin's half baked ideas and two year molars are a really bad combination.
• Things I love about bed rest: PHENOMENAL, cosmic laziness! (I'm channeling the genie from Aladdin here, obviously), endless reading time! (I'm four books down already this week and it's only Tuesday), the chance to be all caught up on correspondence (this is back-firing on the Man who now gets half a dozen emails from me in a day--I'm just verbose--he knew this when he married me), all the fun company and food that voluntarily comes my way, and the opportunity to see just how blessed and loved our family is. Bed rest = blessed.
• Things I wish I could skip about bed rest: limited exposure to sunlight and fresh air (this makes me cranky), the inability to exercise out my emotions (this also makes me cranky), having to ask for help for everything (I realize this is good for me, but again, it makes me cranky), not being able to pick up Tiny (this makes him cranky), and the generally crankiness that constantly threatens to ensue. Bed rest = fighting the cranks.
• My two partners in pregnancy both decided to go into labour and have their super cute baby boys this weekend. I feel just a smidge left behind. But they have both told me not to get any ideas. Still, I'm already missing the chance to send whiney pregnancy texts to them. Now they're all blissed out and sleep-deprived with their new babies and I'm still (thankfully) pregnant.
• I think I may owe you guys a book post sometime in the near future. Anyone interested in this?

And I think that's all for now. I'm ready for lunch and nap time, the true exciting moments of my day.

Oh, Bed Rest

I know I said things were going to be a little quieter around here once my 31 Days series finished up, but I didn't really intend them to be this quiet. The truth is that I have turned into a hibernating winter bear. All I do is eat and sleep. The boys play with Aunt Beth or whoever has stolen them for the morning/afternoon, they come and snuggle and read with me at intervals throughout the day, and I help out with their bedtime and nap time routines, but other than that, the only thing I'm really doing is making a pot of coffee in the morning and growing the twins. Incidentally, this week I have two pineapples in there. (Psych, anyone?) I am also, occasionally, allowed to fold laundry.

I thought I would have hit cabin fever by now, but honestly, I am just so ridiculously tired. I'm not sure if it's the medication they put me on, the fact that I cut out my one cup of half caff last week, or that I can finally allow myself to be tired, but I am taking a morning and an afternoon nap and still going to sleep by ten. Who am I?

In the meantime, though, I'm discovering what incredible cooks I have for friends. And I'm kind of wishing every meal came with a recipe card attached (for when I finally start cooking again--that will happen one of these days, right?). My appetite, which tanked over the last four weeks or so, has returned full force, and I am taking advantage of the fact that our refrigerator runneth over.

While I'm sure all of this is just thrilling news to you, I do come with a bit of a teaser. My friend Rachelle has been hard at work on the nursery this week (nothing like a little pre-term labour to kick everyone into gear), and I think we may have a nursery reveal for you sometime this coming week. In the meantime, I will continue to beguile you with thrilling tales of Marian on Bed Rest. What more could you ask for?

One last thing that will absolutely blow your mind: Mavis Beacon would be terribly impressed by the increase in typing speed I'm exhibiting today just from catching up on email. Got to keep myself occupied, right? I mean, in between the multiple naps, of course.