Please...No "Coming Out Of The Closet" Jokes

Finally!! I have missed writing.....
It would appear that not only have I underestimated my free time lately, but I have seriously underestimated my ability to remember which of my many user names and passwords are tied to this blog. Many a night I have sat down, DaVinci Code-like, and tried to figure out which combination of numbers and letters would unlock my beloved journal. You will be glad to know that I have finally written it down. I'm sure I'll lose that piece of paper eventually too, but whatever.

Both boys are currently asleep with what I now believe are double ear infections, so a trip to the doctor is in our immediate AM future. Actually, that's OK, since the reason we first thought Y4 had a fever was because he had possibly swallowed a coin on Saturday, and I was convinced it was slowly burning a hole in his stomach and had finally become infected. The nurse told me that was unlikely - then she snickered - so I figure it's probably what I affectionately call a Double Double (twins w/double ear infections as known to a college basketball fan).

Of course, the probably-not coin swallowing happened when I was out of town on a fantabulous weekend with a great old friend - so great in fact, that we extended our stay an extra night WITH our husbands' blessings (we are both moms of twins with very understanding husbands). Yancey's friend, Keith, came over a couple nights to help Yancey and gad about town as the boys' Two Daddies. Not sure how much they milked that, but I would have liked to see it nonetheless. Keith told Yancey that he was loving playing with the boys while Yancey got meals ready.....he happily showed Yancey the handful of coins he'd given the boys to play with. To Yancey's credit he realized that was bad, checked their mouths, and made them spit them out. It was only after intense interrogation when I got home that he admitted that he could not with 100% certainty say that he got them all back to Keith. For some reason, the sight of 2 grown men completely capably handling twin 2-year olds endears me so much to both of them that I'm not even mad (anymore). PLUS, who am I to talk?? Another friend, Tillman, called us into service a couple weeks ago when *he* went out of town. He was boarding his dog and needed someone to pick him up and hold on to him until his flight got in a couple hours later. When Tillman called, I chatted with him and told him we were having a blast with the boys in the bathtub. Tillman said, "I really hope Trooper hasn't been too much trouble." And I said, "Ummmm.......no.....as a matter of fact, he's been no trouble at all. YANCEY - WE FORGOT TROOPER!!" Then I threw the phone at Yancey and ran. In the end, no harm no foul, but I went to bed at 9 because I was so ashamed of myself. So, me and my glass house ain't throwin' no stones.

Speaking of baths...our latest fun pre-bath activity (and by "fun" I mean it's what the boys do while Yancey and I lie on our stomachs on the bed because we are too tired to play anymore) has been Play In Mommy's Closet. Foster is now a pro at walking in 4-inch heels, and I am *so* proud that I have taught him to sing Beyonce's "All The Single Ladies!!!" My husband is not so proud. (As an aside, both boys were playing in their fleece hats upstairs tonight - thinking I wasn't paying attention - and they both started singing that song. Oh. My. God. I almost wet my pants. I got about 10 seconds of it before the video camera battery crapped out. Figures.) Anyway, the last closet game included the boys bringing my shoes out, one at a time, and arranging them in a pile in an order that only they understood. Now, I should admit that I have some shoes. A lot of them are expensive. I told Annie on her first night home that if she ate any shoes or purses I would take her back to where I got her (that's actually true). I love me some shoes. But, the shoes that they grabbed that bothered me the most were my tennis shoes. You see, my nickname in high school was "Foot." It's not that my feet were abnormally large (I think I wore an 8), but my legs were so damn skinny that most days it looked like was wearing skis. When I gave a speech at graduation, everyone on the stage started stomping. Good times. So, when Foster emerged from my closet with both tennis shoes and proudly yelled, "BIG ONES, Mommy!!!!" I almost cried. Ahhhh....I love that kid. And, although I now love my feet (as long as they are ensconced in designer shoes), it's no wonder I don't ever excercise - then I'd have to wear the Big Ones!

And It Begins.....

......The Stomach Bug is inching its way into my house. I didn't get it last time, but my Spider Sense tells me I may not be immune this time. Our nanny (Jasmine)'s son had it last week; she got it over the weekend; now my husband has it. There is clearly another Bug spreading all over Atlanta at lightening speed. The boys have been going to school, and their Dad is now sick, so they will be getting The Bug in....ummm...about 12 hours. Anyone remember the stench that hit me like a dead mummy who had pooped in his pants a couple months ago??? I may have to pull out the rotten broccoli in my fridge and sniff it for a few days before throwing it away to numb my sense of smell in preparation for things to come.

I avoided The Bug last time, but now I feel nauseous. I am trying to play it off, but that may or may not work. I am totally telling myself it's because I ate 2 full baskets of chips w/salsa this afternoon. That should be enough to make anyone sick, right?** So, I am sitting here with 3 boys asleep upstairs (one doped up on Phenergan and Immodium) waiting for the other shoe to drop. On me.

While I contemplated the idea of having 2 sick parents and 2 sick toddlers, I thought I'd while away some time on my new iPhone - the gift that is now the bane of Yancey's existence...the thing he now SWEARS should have come with usage regulations (no such luck, bucko - I survived your first few months with your new Blackberry, so suck it up). And, I must say, I am enjoying myself. It is taking my mind off the nausea. But, that damn thing has a mind of it's own. I was cruising the internet for all sorts of interesting pop culture info, and the internet just shut down. Took me back to the slick, loves-it, home screen on my iPhone. I didn't get mad or irritated. I actually *spoke* to my iPhone. I said, "OK, fine. Whatever. I'll do something else." And I clicked on another random icon. WHAT? I am clearly in the throes of a horrible Bug that is throwing me off by tickling my tummy while going STRAIGHT for my brain!!! We'll have to see what develops in the next 12 hours for all of us. Unless I miss my guess......Yancey will stay sick, the kids will become sick, Jasmine will get sick again and I will miraculously only get a "little" sick...therefore requiring me to continue caring for every single living thing in this house. My mother would say, "Welcome to motherhood. Take some Tums."

**Gross Side Note: If I do get sick, maybe I'll lose weight! All you ladies out there know what I mean - if it means losing 5 pounds, we'll puke for 3 days! Am I lying?? I think not.

Remember When?

2 years ago today, folks.....straight from our old CaringBridge page. Holy crap.


SATURDAY, DECEMBER 16, 2006 06:00 PM, CST
We are parents! As of 10:18PM and 10:51 PM last night, James "Yancey" Stribling, IV and William "Foster" Stribling have arrived. And boy are they tiny. 1 pound 14 ounces and 2 pounds, respectively, these boys have a lot of growing to do. Tracy delivered them via C-section last night after progessively worsening preeclampsia symptoms that came on quickly. She was so strong and was concerned only for the babies - amazing. I (Jenny) was able to be in the delivery room to see the babies come into the world - both came kicking and screaming (literally), which was a sight and sound to behold. Both have little heads of hair and are tiny but adorable.
The NICU team here at Scott & White Hospital in Temple are wonderful and kind and positive and patient and detailed in their explanations. They knew who we were and were ready for us - they have already gotten my name on the babies' placards as the mother, and we have been treated so very well in this regard.
Although we won't be able to hold the boys for a while, we have been able to be with them as often and for as long as we would like ever since last night, and this will continue as long as they are here. We can touch them and kiss them, but their nervous systems are so fragile right now, we try not to do that too often. There are many things that we will be facing very soon - medical information, decisions, possible complications - the list is endless.
But for now, we are so thankful to God for the miracles that are our baby boys.


SATURDAY, DECEMBER 16, 2006 04:52 PM, CST
Today was a good day. We learned a lot about all of the wires and probes that are helping the nurses take care of the boys. Foster was cold this morning, so they kept a sign on his isolette that said "Brrr....I'm cold...please keep lid closed while I warm up...Love, Foster." Yancey got a second dose of surfectant for his lungs, and that should help him breathe better in the coming days. Foster's breathing is still pretty darn good - the nurses say he is showing off.
We are often reminded by the nurses, though, that the first 2 days are like a "honeymoon period." Things seem stable, but around Day 3, those stable values often get worse before gettin better. So, we are trying to prepare for that.
Yancey and I each took a temperature and changed a diaper today. Yancey said I looked like I was trying to diffuse a bomb! Both boys like to sleep on their tummy, but Yancey curls his legs under him while Foster kicks his legs all the way out. It's funny to watch. So, for today things have been good at the end of the day.

Pavlov's Dog

Watching my family pass The Cold around for 4 months has made me nothing if not hyper-vigilant. Yes, the boys still have It, but one is now almost well while one is newly sick. I am very much in tune with their every sniff, snort, sigh, cough, moan and rustle. I know when it is time to go upstairs and administer love or medicine, and I know when I can sit downstairs - muscles clenched - to wait it out. Snotty Snotterson and Stuffy McStufferstein have earned their weight in Mother-lesson gold. In fact, I am so in tune with symptoms that I drooled when Pavlov rang his bell tonight.

I was talking to my sister on the phone this evening - after a particulary snotty episode with Foster who was trying (?) to go to sleep - when I realized that Annie was drooling. Not just a little bit either. A lot of drool. Which, even though I basically suck snot out of noses all day long (and feel triumphant about it), totally grossed me out. Then it freaked me out. Yancey had just walked in the back door, so I started motioning to him (while talking on the phone to Katie).....pointing to the dog.....mouthing (sotto voce) "she's drooling....she's Drooling!" Can't you see, man? She's DROOLING! Something is wrong - she's been stung, she's had a stroke, she's going blind! Yancey dutifully walked over, accepted the paper towel I had on standby (I am nothing if not prepared for a symptom), and pronounced Annie........hungry. The two bison burgers he had recently deposited on the counter seemed to have accounted for her drool. Ummmmm. OK. But, if she *had* been suffering from a malady, I would have been ready!

Short and Sweet

I am 38 years old, and yesterday I pulled my child's hair. On purpose. He and his brother insisted on running in circles around me and laughing as I sat Indian-style on the floor (wait, am I still allowed to use that term?) pulling my hair every time they got around to the back. I laughed at first (yes, a mistake and thank you very much Parenting magazine for pointing it out), then I tried telling them that pulling hair made an ouchie for Mommy. No sympathy from those two. Then, I got stern. When that didn't work, I spun around on my butt and pulled my child's hair and said (maniacally) "SEE? SEE? Now THAT is an ouchie!!" Oh my Lord, how the mighty have fallen.

And the worst part? He looked so totally bewildered, like he might cry....then burst into peals of laughter.

Can A Day Start At 9PM?

Whew. Another one bites the dust. Another day, that is. I didn't think it was possible for Yancey and I to barely speak to each other during a day in which we weren't angry with each other. Today, though, I was proven wrong. Y4 is taking oral steroids - sort of a "reset button" for his chest stuff that's been ongoing for a few months. We are happy for it, but the side effects (per the pulmonologist) are "grumpy, moody and hungry" and we had yet to see the hungry. Of course, as soon as I told Yancey what the side effects were, he kindly asked how long *I* had been on oral steroids. Ha ha ha. I would add a couple other words to the end of that, but they aren't safe for the blogging world.

Foster woke up cute as a button this morning, talked a blue streak, and ran downstairs and hid behind his high chair with Monkey to read a little book. Laughed his butt off. Yancey.....well, he cried. Another lovely side effect of these meds (I HOPE) is that he wakes up in the AM (and from naps) crying hysterically and telling something to go "awayyyyyyy." Please Lord, don't let me be poisoining that little guy (she says half-jokingly). It's too cold outside to play, so we muddled through. Steak & Shake for lunch was pretty easy. Although with no makeup, bad skin, and a bad new haircut OF COURSE we saw someone Yancey knows (we always do). I'm sure that nice man and his 12 year old son were thinking Yancey could have totally done better.

Then, we were "those people" in the grocery store around 5PM. We had no clue why Y4 was screaming, and Yancey was trying to push Foster in the twin stroller by himself, but Foster kept trying to climb out. So, stroller out to the car, Yancey on Mom's hip, Foster in grocery cart, Dad pushing from the sides because Foster wants to Drive. Got everything we needed, but Yancey screamed the whole time. So, I took him to the car to watch Monsters, Inc. and drive around the parking lot while Dad and Foster checked out. Yancey kept wanting "MOVIE OFF" but every time I turned it off he wanted "MOVIE ON" all while crying like his heart would break. Then, when we got home, he wanted "MOVIE ON" for an hour. Then he asked for oatmeal. Now THAT I can do! He ate 2 and a half packets. He's 20 pounds. Good Lord, I guess that's the "hungry." Bath and bed. Thank you Jesus. I realized that all day, Yancey and I had that "hunker down" mentality - don't look to either side, just keep going whatever you do. We didn't talk much, although we did look at each other and laugh bewilderdly (a word?) many times. Thank God for the 15+ years we have behind us.

So, now we sit with a wreck of a kitchen and a couple bottles of red wine open (with scotch on standby). Somehow, we have made it through this day without filing for divorce. I credit the "not talking" portion of the day for that. Now, we are watching football, and I am reading the new James Patterson book - short chapters, easy story - just perfect. And, as I type, Yancey has actually built a fire. Ahhhh.....now the day begins.

Mine. To Have and To Hold.

The word of the day is "mine." Specifically, "mine mine mine...Mine....MIne...MINe...MINE MINE MINE!!!!!" Also, "Hold It." And, "Have It." Lord knows I am glad the boys are talking (remember how I was convinced they would *never* say Mommy and would call me Jenny?). But, this is a little much. No matter how many times Yancey and I try to explain that, "No, those pop beads are not YOURS, they belong to Mommy and Daddy who are nice enough to let you use them," they just don't seem to get it. Everything is Mine. And, whatever I have, they both want to Hold It or Have It. Sweet little things saw me talking on the phone and both started saying, "Hi Mimi! Hi Mimi!" but the minute I offered to call Mimi and got her on the line, they both wanted to Have It (the phone) and wouldn't say a word other than a high pitched scream. They also want to have and to hold the shower head in the bathtub, the steering wheel of the car, my purse, a spoon and open jello container (ugh), the stroller, my Coke*, scissors, the pen at the doctor's office, and a glass of wine. Who taught them to say those particular words anyway? Probably the same people that taught Foster to say, "one more time." Now, that's a good one. Especially around 8:15PM. Ahhhhh. Talking. But, should I be surprised? The apples have *definitely* not fallen far from either tree on that one.

Today also marks an occasion for me.....4 years ago today I entered the hospital, pregnant with twins, and was placed on bed rest for what ended up to be the biggest, scariest, saddest roller coaster ride I had ever been on. As most of you know, we ended up losing those beautiful twins at 21 weeks, and I came (relatively) close to joining them. If you don't know the story, it is not a happy one in any respect but one**. That one respect is Yancey. The words To Have and To Hold have never been more apt. From talking me through a totally doped up 24 hour labor and delivery with promises of Caribbean vacations and continued love with or without children.....to nursing me back to health then driving 120 mph to get back to the hospital again when the ambulance came to get me....to working through the intricacies and fears and hopes of gestational surrogacy....to giving me a puppy for my birthday the same day we met our potential surrogate, in case the meeting didn't work out (it did!).....to being my absolute rock (along with my sister) when I called him in tears saying the boys were about to be born over 3 months too early and we had to leave NOW.....to getting back on a Texas-bound plane with me after the engine blew 30 minutes into the flight (still hysterical to me).....to standing beside me for 3 months nursing those little ones and doing copious amounts of laundry and running completely random errands (I still don't know what all he was doing, especially during a *tornado*)....and finally to being the most loving hands-on Dad there is. Yep. Mine. To Have and To Hold.

*Note to Aunt Susan - they both say, "Coke! Have it!" You have done your job well.
**The narrative was better saying there was only one happy part of that crazy time, but there were actually several.....renewed faith....kindness of strangers....above and beyond from family and friends....and a true and real belief that life is, in fact, good.

Love Y'all! Happy Belated Thanksgiving!!! Hope yours was good. Mine was AWESOME but somehow, more tiring with almost 2 year old twins. Go figure! ;-)