Some people are soup snobs and refuse to eat canned soup because it's just not as good as their granny's homemade such-and-such.
I've never been that gal. I grew up on canned soup.
I seriously considered the name Campbell for one of the twinks at one point. The hubs vetoed it though.
Earlier in my pregnancy I was intrigued by the floating clumps of stuff at the top of the Campbell's soup container....or "liquid gold". It looked tasty.
Okay. Fine. I'll admit it.
It was tasty.
But I recently had reason to put down the bowl of soup and step away from the Campbell's can when I noticed two new symptoms of pregnancy. I feared they were directly linked to my overconsumption of this canned chickeny deliciousness.
1) I was developing chicken skin on the inside of my arms - soft, speckled looking, with raised goose/chicken bumps on it.
2) Something gold in color and thick like broth was coming out of my boobs. It looked like chicken noodle soup!
I thought the Campbell's motto was "mmmm mmmm good!" and I agreed for a long time.
But I recently found myself understanding the truth behind the saying "you can have too much of a (mmmm mmmm) good thing" because I was developing chicken skin on my arms and oozing broth from my boobs.
Turns out the boob liquid is normal. It's called colostrum - and it's the first sign of milk production in your mammary glands and packed with protein and antibodies that newborns benefit greatly from. I'm prayerful that this is also a sign that I'll be able to produce enough milk for both twinks since it's coming in so early. Any free sustenance will be awesome! Plus, the health benefits for the babies can't be beat. Breast milk is unquestionably mmmm mmmm good in function if not in flavor (I will not be finding out for sure despite that it will be my own. I may be brave enough to taste the yellow chicken clumps, but I'm not brave enough for boob juice).
As for the chicken skin on the underside of my arms...who knows? There's no chapter for chicken skin in the What to Expect When You're Expecting table of contents. Trust me, I looked.
I remember seeing similar skin on my grandmother when I was little. I even recall sitting in her lap and playing with it because it was so soft. Maybe it's just a symptom of aging and I'm destined to have it beyond this pregnancy (Oh dear heavens, please say it's not).
Thank goodness it doesn't have feathers in it, though.
I've got enough fur to deal with for now. Feathers would just be too much to handle.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Double stuff
It goes without saying that twins come with a lot of stuff - double stuff to be exact. 2 car seats, 2 high chairs, 2 personalities, and the list keeps going.
I'm hoping to get feedback from other moms of multiples about which items I need to double up on and which are not needed in bulk. For example, do I need 2 bumbos? 2 boppy's? 2 cribs? 2 pack 'n plays?
There are some serious unknowns that come with expecting twins, but then again, I'm a rookie mom. So there are a lot of unknowns for me period.
I have been surprised, however, by needs that have doubled for me that I would not have expected otherwise.
Did you know that you need twice as much toilet paper? Me neither.
I expect to go through twice as many diapers (10 diapers/day X 2 butts X 30 days/month = 600 diapers each month), but never did it enter my mind that I would also require twice the toileting supplies for myself. I go through TP at a breakneck pace because I pee all the time. And what complicates matters more is the bigger I get, the more difficult and frequent the peeing becomes.
And those pee cups they give you at the doctor's office at each visit?! Forget it. I pee'd on my hands in the past when I could see what I was doing. Now it's like shooting a fully loaded nerf water gun at a moving target while blindfolded. I'm lucky if I get anything in the cup, and I'm guaranteed to drench my hands in the process. I need a cup twice the size of the ones I'm given. I need something that resembles a dog bowl.
Because I'm trying to stay hydrated and ward off early labor, I'm drinking a fair amount of water and going to the bathroom an average of three times an hour - the math works out, too. 2 heads + 1 bladder = 3 bathroom breaks an hour. In a past life (hmmmm...about 29 weeks ago) I was able to make it through an entire work day without hitting the restroom, sometimes without even realizing it. This is certainly not the case anymore. Add to this the fact that I often get cramps in my hamstrings as I sit on the toilet, which requires standing and stretching to relieve, all while my pants are down, of course. This typically leaves me dribbling pee all over the seat, which requires clean up, which requires more TP. Vicious cycle. Suffice to say that me and Charmin are good friends.
Also related to peeing, I'm learning that I need to double my arm length. I struggle now to reach around my side to to do the appropriate "front to back" wiping technique - the growing front hump seriously limits flexibility. And shaving is just as challenging if not moreso. Forget painting my toenails.
I'm reminded of a time in my life many moons ago when I discovered something that seemed unpleasant about a guy I briefly dated. He was a decent guy - employed, not living with his parents, pretty cute, polite, clean house and smelled like he routinely bathed. During a quick stop at his house to pick up socks (we were going bowling) I had to use his bathroom. I didn't know then that it was the beginning of the end of our courtship.
While inspecting his bathroom, I noted an odd contraption sitting atop his sink. It was long and plastic and had a razor inserted into one of its' ends with hand grips at the opposite end. I'd never seen any such thing. Okay I know, I sound like a snoop.....what can I say?! I'm observant. Or nosey. Take your pick.
To my defense, I didn't go rummaging through medicine cabinets or under the sink. It was important then, as it remains today, that I hang out with people that wash their hands and brush their teeth. It's sufficient to see what someone has on their bathroom counter: Soap? Toothbrush? Ample supply of toilet paper ON the dispenser and not sitting on the floor? That implies that you wash your hands, brush your teeth and aren't so lazy that you can't replace the empty roll of TP. That's enough to pass recon level 1 and secure another date or two assuming you're a gentleman. Or at least it was back in the day. Thankfully, that's no longer necessary and I'm married to a pretty hygienic dude, even if he doesn't put the toilet paper on the dispenser like he should though. Grrr.......
Back to the weird doomafloppy on his sink.......
It took me just a few minutes to realize that it was a razor designed to reach those hard-to-reach places. Considering he wasn't a T-Rex and could reach his face to shave and he didn't appear to shave his legs, there could be only one option - he shaved his back!
Yeti alert!!!!!!
I was dunzo.....outta there.
I simply could not go out with Sasquatch.
Very vain I know. And hypocritical of me considering my current furry state. But at the time, I couldn't stomach being with someone coated in back fur. I just couldn't go there. So I didn't go there to his bathroom with the weird doomafloppy or go on another date with him again.
And now I would give anything to be able to have double the arm length so that I could reach my own hard to reach parts and de-fur them. I even considered calling him to ask where he bought his doomafloppy, but decided it'd be a bit rude. My, how the tables have turned!
You'll also need to double your stash of antacids. And keep them handy in all sorts of places - bedside, bathroom, purse, desk drawer, car console to get an adequate start. Trust me, you'll need them.
Next up: get twice as much towel as you once used. Go for the giant sized ones. The increase in surface area makes it difficult to dry off all your netherparts without soaking through a standard size towel.
Bring out the pillows! I find myself surrounded by twice as many as I previously required. I need 2 under my neck, one under my side to support the front hump (which is highly influenced by gravity and strains your back), and one between my knees.
Bra extensions are a must, too.....you're going to need (not twice as much hopefully) some extra inches in your rib cage because your lungs are being seriously compressed along with other internal organs. Anything to increase comfort and oxygen intake is helpful!
You're going to need to operate on 1/2 as much sleep if not less. I consider a good night to be one where I can sleep an hour solid. It's a highly revised version of bliss, especially considering that I was once able to sleep for hours on end without waking. I guess it's nature's way of preparing you for sleepless nights spent nursing, rocking babies and changing diapers.
You're going to need to double the amount of time it takes for you to dress and get ready to leave the house, too. It's exhausting work putting on your panties when you can't see your feet. I recently went an entire day with my underwear on backwards and inside out. I realized something wasn't quite right about the fit almost immediately (surely my arse couldn't have grown so much to induce insane wedgies overnight, right?). But I maintained my stance in those drawers just as they were because it was just too much work to start all over again. Dressing, packing your stuff (your lunchbox needs to be twice as big to accommodate frequent snacks, too), walking to/from your car, driving, etc....it all takes twice as long as it once did. Plan ahead. Give yourself extra time.
And give yourself twice the patience. You're going to hurt. You're going to forget stuff. You're going to grow out of your clothes. You're going to cry for no reason. You're going to feel completely and utterly overwhelmed.
Or at least, this has been my experience.
But I'm really looking forward to experiencing twice the amount of smiles, laughs, and love that are ahead.
That's some good double stuff.
I'm hoping to get feedback from other moms of multiples about which items I need to double up on and which are not needed in bulk. For example, do I need 2 bumbos? 2 boppy's? 2 cribs? 2 pack 'n plays?
There are some serious unknowns that come with expecting twins, but then again, I'm a rookie mom. So there are a lot of unknowns for me period.
I have been surprised, however, by needs that have doubled for me that I would not have expected otherwise.
Did you know that you need twice as much toilet paper? Me neither.
I expect to go through twice as many diapers (10 diapers/day X 2 butts X 30 days/month = 600 diapers each month), but never did it enter my mind that I would also require twice the toileting supplies for myself. I go through TP at a breakneck pace because I pee all the time. And what complicates matters more is the bigger I get, the more difficult and frequent the peeing becomes.
And those pee cups they give you at the doctor's office at each visit?! Forget it. I pee'd on my hands in the past when I could see what I was doing. Now it's like shooting a fully loaded nerf water gun at a moving target while blindfolded. I'm lucky if I get anything in the cup, and I'm guaranteed to drench my hands in the process. I need a cup twice the size of the ones I'm given. I need something that resembles a dog bowl.
Because I'm trying to stay hydrated and ward off early labor, I'm drinking a fair amount of water and going to the bathroom an average of three times an hour - the math works out, too. 2 heads + 1 bladder = 3 bathroom breaks an hour. In a past life (hmmmm...about 29 weeks ago) I was able to make it through an entire work day without hitting the restroom, sometimes without even realizing it. This is certainly not the case anymore. Add to this the fact that I often get cramps in my hamstrings as I sit on the toilet, which requires standing and stretching to relieve, all while my pants are down, of course. This typically leaves me dribbling pee all over the seat, which requires clean up, which requires more TP. Vicious cycle. Suffice to say that me and Charmin are good friends.
Also related to peeing, I'm learning that I need to double my arm length. I struggle now to reach around my side to to do the appropriate "front to back" wiping technique - the growing front hump seriously limits flexibility. And shaving is just as challenging if not moreso. Forget painting my toenails.
I'm reminded of a time in my life many moons ago when I discovered something that seemed unpleasant about a guy I briefly dated. He was a decent guy - employed, not living with his parents, pretty cute, polite, clean house and smelled like he routinely bathed. During a quick stop at his house to pick up socks (we were going bowling) I had to use his bathroom. I didn't know then that it was the beginning of the end of our courtship.
While inspecting his bathroom, I noted an odd contraption sitting atop his sink. It was long and plastic and had a razor inserted into one of its' ends with hand grips at the opposite end. I'd never seen any such thing. Okay I know, I sound like a snoop.....what can I say?! I'm observant. Or nosey. Take your pick.
To my defense, I didn't go rummaging through medicine cabinets or under the sink. It was important then, as it remains today, that I hang out with people that wash their hands and brush their teeth. It's sufficient to see what someone has on their bathroom counter: Soap? Toothbrush? Ample supply of toilet paper ON the dispenser and not sitting on the floor? That implies that you wash your hands, brush your teeth and aren't so lazy that you can't replace the empty roll of TP. That's enough to pass recon level 1 and secure another date or two assuming you're a gentleman. Or at least it was back in the day. Thankfully, that's no longer necessary and I'm married to a pretty hygienic dude, even if he doesn't put the toilet paper on the dispenser like he should though. Grrr.......
Back to the weird doomafloppy on his sink.......
It took me just a few minutes to realize that it was a razor designed to reach those hard-to-reach places. Considering he wasn't a T-Rex and could reach his face to shave and he didn't appear to shave his legs, there could be only one option - he shaved his back!
Yeti alert!!!!!!
I was dunzo.....outta there.
I simply could not go out with Sasquatch.
Very vain I know. And hypocritical of me considering my current furry state. But at the time, I couldn't stomach being with someone coated in back fur. I just couldn't go there. So I didn't go there to his bathroom with the weird doomafloppy or go on another date with him again.
And now I would give anything to be able to have double the arm length so that I could reach my own hard to reach parts and de-fur them. I even considered calling him to ask where he bought his doomafloppy, but decided it'd be a bit rude. My, how the tables have turned!
You'll also need to double your stash of antacids. And keep them handy in all sorts of places - bedside, bathroom, purse, desk drawer, car console to get an adequate start. Trust me, you'll need them.
Next up: get twice as much towel as you once used. Go for the giant sized ones. The increase in surface area makes it difficult to dry off all your netherparts without soaking through a standard size towel.
Bring out the pillows! I find myself surrounded by twice as many as I previously required. I need 2 under my neck, one under my side to support the front hump (which is highly influenced by gravity and strains your back), and one between my knees.
Bra extensions are a must, too.....you're going to need (not twice as much hopefully) some extra inches in your rib cage because your lungs are being seriously compressed along with other internal organs. Anything to increase comfort and oxygen intake is helpful!
You're going to need to operate on 1/2 as much sleep if not less. I consider a good night to be one where I can sleep an hour solid. It's a highly revised version of bliss, especially considering that I was once able to sleep for hours on end without waking. I guess it's nature's way of preparing you for sleepless nights spent nursing, rocking babies and changing diapers.
You're going to need to double the amount of time it takes for you to dress and get ready to leave the house, too. It's exhausting work putting on your panties when you can't see your feet. I recently went an entire day with my underwear on backwards and inside out. I realized something wasn't quite right about the fit almost immediately (surely my arse couldn't have grown so much to induce insane wedgies overnight, right?). But I maintained my stance in those drawers just as they were because it was just too much work to start all over again. Dressing, packing your stuff (your lunchbox needs to be twice as big to accommodate frequent snacks, too), walking to/from your car, driving, etc....it all takes twice as long as it once did. Plan ahead. Give yourself extra time.
And give yourself twice the patience. You're going to hurt. You're going to forget stuff. You're going to grow out of your clothes. You're going to cry for no reason. You're going to feel completely and utterly overwhelmed.
Or at least, this has been my experience.
But I'm really looking forward to experiencing twice the amount of smiles, laughs, and love that are ahead.
That's some good double stuff.
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