Posts Tagged ‘Home’

i remember the first few weeks of daycare for our 2 year old when he first started, it seemed crazy the amount of preparation and shit to remember just to not piss off the daycare ladies and have everything your lil’ dude needs. we would spend two, sometimes three hours just getting everything together for the week on sunday night and then every night there seemed to be a good two hours of sporadic preparation that included laundry, dishes and list making that we would abide by.
all that shit just for one fucking baby.
so then yeah, we, uh, we got two infants in addition add to the 2 year old to add to our daycare routine now, shit, piss, fuck, tits, schmegma. granted, once the kid is eating solid food and walking everything gets easier as far as what you have to pack the night before/morning of, but that’s a year away bitch, what the fuck am i supposed to do now?

this past monday was the start of the third week with all three kids in daycare, and the second week of jules going back to work after “natural & gravitational vagina reconstruction time” or what you pussy ass bitches call maternity leave. we might not have the mechanics of actually getting out of the van and into the actual daycare perfected just yet, as the 2 year old likes to take off occasionally, but we’ve kind of worked out who does what when to make the mornings easier than that first few.

so rather than blabber and show you my titties like you broads often do, im going to break this shit down for you in the hopes that maybe my “schedule” or as i call it “what i do to try and see and my wife’s tittaaaaaays more than once a day”, will help someone think this shit through when two bebes are on the way.

going out in public is possible, but you have to work like you’re gonna get serious action that night or you will seriously want to kill your spouse. luckily for her i kill zombies and bad guys on my playstation, so im straight.

**keep in mind that we have to pre-make mason’s formula because he’s on that thickener/higher calorie formula mixture**

sunday night @ 8pm:

unload dishwasher with 10 bottles (#5 tinted brown, #5 clear), collars & nips.

prep #5 bottles for leah, all with the appropriate amount of water to mix formula in
make #1 for feeding at 8:30

make fresh 30oz container of formula for mason (only good for 24 hours so we make 24 hours worth)
pour #5 bottles for mason and refrigerate #4 and warm up #1 for feeding at 8:30

feed them hungry bitches & go to fucking bed bitch! (we probably have marathon tantric sex 8 nights a week tho)

wake up @ 4:15am, warm mason’s and make leah’s bottles, then feed at 4:30am
@5am jules’s crazy ass goes to work out
@5:45am me gets out of bed and does a spray tan (YOU THINK THIS SHIT IS NATURAL?!) – spray tan is my code word for my first shit of the day ok?
@6am dylan the 2yo ninja is up and ready for the party, i load the #4 dirty bottles in the dishwasher & snag some milko for the ninja
by 6:10am i’ve started changing and dressing the party twins for the party, jules is usually getting ready while helping dylan get ready for the party
by 6:35am both twinnies are in their carseats ready to leave, i run and put the day’s bottles, clothes and diapers in the van, dylan is waiting to watch a movie which he will not get to watch until after school. this past week it’s been “the jungle book”.
by 6:45am we have all three kids in the van and jules and i usually dip into the laundry room to have a quick asspouding sesh (im lying, she makes a shitty low calorie breakfast and i do the laundry for that night’s pajamas for all three)
by 7am im onto my second and favorite shit of the day
by 7:15am im into the shower and on to work where i save people from herpes with my cape and flower petal tattoo.
work work work save people from herpes using my herpes harpoon, i call it my herp-poon
i get home at 5:30pm, julie pulls in at 5:45pm with all three kids and we pull the unload after a quickie in the laundry room again (im lying, i just make sure she brings her coffee mug in cause i hate it when she tries to sneak off with mine, the cheeky bugga!)
i immediately load the dishwasher with the #6 bottles from daycare and start that bitch up, cause we aint made of nipples, collars and shitty leaky bottles from avent are we!

then for the next three hours its a mixture of taking turns hugging dylan, cooking dinner and doing laundry. then immediately after dinner one of us takes dylan up for a bath and gets him ready for bed while the other unloads the dishwasher and sets the bottles, collars and nipples out to dry. this is followed up every other day with a bath for the twinnies.
we are looking forward to summer so we can just hose the fuckers off.

after bathtime is over we focus all of our attention on dylan for a few minutes and enjoy how he is growing up and is the fucking man. then its dylan to bed and more laundry, dishes or other random household chore until 8:30 rolls around and we start the whole fucking process over a fucking gain.

can you tell that i wrote that in two different sits?

yeah. time has a way of not allowing us time to do the things we used to do, but motherfuckers, let me tell you THIS:
once these bitch ass kids is growns ups, i aint doin SHIT ever a fucking gain.
im talkin sponge baths and meals blended and fed to me in a straw and shit.

BEING AN ADULT SUCKS BALLS

but ill be fucked if my kids arent the bees fucking knee pads

AND COFFEE IS FUCKING DELICIOUS

Every waking minute we’re either feeding, burping, changing, rocking, bouncing, wrestling dylan, working, doing household bullshit or dreaming about sleeping.

Excuse my absence from actual posts. In a few weeks I’m sure my body will adapt to these weird hours.

The purple painted room is a “while you were out” that myself and a few friends arranged as a surprise to Julie when she returned from the hospital. I’d show you the reveal video, but Jules would kick my ass.

We’re into week 35, HELL YES!

But: where the hell have we been over the past few weeks?

As the sperm donor and seemingly-single dad now that Julie is on complete bedrest, I’ve been carting the son to daycare daily, mama up north to our once weekly high risk OB appointments, twice a week biophysical profile appointments and once a week OB group appointments, and myself to work. Ever since last week began we’re treating my days at work as limited before the twins arrive, and I’ve been in overdrive trying to leave the pharmacy without any voids in inventory or the things that only I can produce in the clean room before I take my short leave to welcome the twins into the world.

Besides driving and watching our kids on black and white ultrasound monitors, we’ve been keeping a close eye on Julie’s preeclampsia signs. She’s gone almost overboard with taking her blood pressure at home and her numbers are amazingly chill at the crib, but at the OB/High Risk OB’s she’s straight SHOOK, yo. So we can chock that up to white coat syndrome I guess. And yes, I have called her a pussy numerous times, which I’m sure should help, but whatevs yo. Whatevs.

During week 31 our High Risk doctor’s saw her high blood pressure as a sign of possible preeclampsia and ever then it’s been jugs of piss and blood tests, jugs of piss and blood tests. Do you know how much piss a broad preggo with twinnies has in her over 24 hours? She topped out at 4400ml. That’s over a frickin’ gallon for those not constantly referring to volume like I am. My wife will probably be pissed that I’m spilling the piss about that, but fuck her, she put her piss next to my OJ for three weeks, I can poke fun at her piss jugs all I want. (My couch is comfortable, I’m ok with the doghouse. ZING!)

So Christmas Eve we had an appointment and prior to it we were told to expect hospitalization and possibly spend Christmas at Delnor. Then we were able to spend Christmas at home. SCORE! The stress that tagged along with that possibility was gut wrenching.

So New Years Eve we had an appointment and prior to it we were told to expect hospitalization and possibly spend New Years at Delnor. Then we were able to spend New Years Eve and New Years Day at home. SCORE! The stress that tagged along with that wasn’t as bad because we took the potential of a Christmas holiday in Labor & Delivery and made it through ok. Besides, NYE is fucking amateur night, we haven’t gone out on NYE in 8 years. Also, Julie is lugging mad babies in her bellbell yo, how much fun could she really be out on NYE?

It seemed every week we’re operating on the basis that we might be having babies at some point throughout the seven day period. Yet here we are about to hit 35 weeks and we’re without twins. Is this fucking great and titstactular? Fuck yes it is!

But is it stressful as hell to constantly watch your wife say goodbye to our son as if she won’t see him again for a few days? Is it stressful to constantly have her luggage by the garage door, along with constantly packing up the everyday items she uses to make herself pretty (she doesn’t need that shit anyway)? Is it stressful to make plans with 4 different potential overnight sitters for our son and then constantly have to cancel because the vagina isn’t ready?

In addition to all the other little shit that tags along with an impending sense of doom, dread and hospitalization including not sleeping, not sleeping and not sleeping – the answer is: fuck yes, that shit’s fucking stressful as fuck.

Yet, it is all completely acceptable and welcome at this point since we’re passing milestones every passing day the twins continue to cook.

What do I mean?

Well the doctor’s recommended steroid shots for Julie’s supple rear end,(which I’ve named Julius: Julie-Ass, get it?) so the twins got a preemptive dose of lung developing assistance. Now they’ve had more than two weeks with which to build on top of that.

Three weeks ago we were looking at roughly 4lb babies all up in her vajay. Last week each twin was roughly 5lbs 12oz. So at this point they have both surpassed most of my neices and nephews as far as birth weight.

If I’m speaking for myself, from talking with our twitter friends and friends with twins, I think we’re in the clear to have two huge fucking babies kick some serious ass as soon as they hit the ground running. I can’t wait. Yet of course, Julie is fine with a few more weeks of discomfort if it allows our twins more time to perfect their gangsta lean, poker face and/or running man.

So this past Thursday, with a stern concerned look from our high risk OB doctor fresh in our brains, we were expecting another blood test to show a lower platelet and suspicious uric acid levels, which would tell him that it’s time to deliver the twins. The blood test showed a stagnant platelet count, holding still at 103-105 and an improved uric acid level. Can you say balls! BALLS!

What did this earn us? ANOTHER WEEK! YES!

Our OB group doctor recommended we at least schedule a C-Section for 36 weeks or so just to have something on the books. Our twins haven’t been both head down this entire pregnancy, so we were ok with at least taking the precaution.

THEN, Friday we go see our high risk OB doctors and they thought scheduling a C-Section at this point was potentially premature and might not be needed since the numbers are holding steady and Julie LOOKS fine! HE thought that 37 or 38 weeks WASN’T OUT OF THE RANGE OF POSSIBILITY!

Can you say BALLS?! BALLS!

There was a magical weight lifted from our shoulders this past weekend, and we were all riding a little easier. We needed the relief worse than eating White Castle and highway driving and then realizing you have to pull over and perform the green apple quick steps at a public restroom.

That is some serious fucking relief.

Until our next visit Tuesday.

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNN

We is down to the wire yo.

fa show.

Last week had the potential to be a really shitty week. A really shitty Christmas week.

Julie’s 24hr urine test showed a “higher than the doctor expected” amount of protein (526mg) in her urine and after a few more higher than normal blood pressure readings at our respective doctor’s offices our High Risk OB group was a ginger’s pubic hair away from admitting Julie into the hospital with preeclampsia. She would stay in the hospital until our family increases from 3 to 5.

We’ve gone through tears and crying about the thought of her actually missing Christmas morning with our son.

We’ve run over the logistics of having a wife in the hospital 50 minutes away where our son isn’t welcome because of the bullshit swine flu. Also factoring in that he’s doing really really well in his new bed.

We’ve realized that there is nothing more painful than not being able to see your kid.

We understand the need for hospitalization,  but we also understand that 32 weeks isn’t our perfect scenario to meet our children for the first time.

We wanted to avoid it until it was absolutely necessary.

So we took some precautions with Dr. Losure’s help at High Risk OB at Delnor Hospital.

Julie has been taking her blood pressure readings at home with a recommended wrist cuff (we got it at walgreens for about 40 bucks). She has been given the list of symptoms of preeclampsia to watch out for and has taken it down from about a 5 on scale of 1-10, to about a 2.

Meaning I allow her to wipe her own ass and feed herself.

On Christmas Eve we met with our other doctor group and our doctor there was happy with the bp readings Julie has been having, as well as the lack of any significant protein in her urine using the chincy little dipsticks they use.

He understood the strain a Christmas in the hospital would put on Julie if it wasn’t completely needed, so he scheduled another 24hr urine collection/blood test, and tomorrow we will find out the results of those tests.

We’re hoping we can add a few more weeks to our little baby farm up in Julie’s magic vag of enlightenment.

We will find out tomorrow. Until then…

I called Julie an attic last night.

She put a leg off the couch and heard each knee creak, both hip sockets give a loud pop and the sharp intake of air made her sound like a rickety attic from my childhood. Except rather than being a receptacle of memories and the occasional pot plant, this attic was my wife who is severely pregnant with twins.

While I was doing her bidding during her lovely nesting phase last weekend, we discovered the winning piece of “guess Julie’s girth!” yarn from her baby shower with our first son. Just a few days off of exactly two years prior and 8 weeks earlier in the pregnancy, Julie is a good 7 inches rounder with this twin pregnancy. So she’s pullin’ more weight, rounder than Santa, and miserable when trying to move, think about moving or complaining about the lack of being able to move.

The area she is now pretty specific in body pain is near the pelvis. Her exact words were “It feels like my pelvis is broken.”

Does this sound familiar to anyone else who’s experienced a twin pregnancy? Is she supposed to feel wishy washy around the hips and in between?

I offered to have a look, but all I saw was the ghost of Christmas past pullin’ a four footer sitting on a magic mushroom, that was immediately after she belted me with her hit stick.

Yes, she keeps a hit stick near her at all times now. It keeps our son about 2 feet away from dropkicking her belly, allows her the ability to accentuate syllables in her orders at me and she can move things closer to her when i politely set them 2.5 feet away on the table. I’ve also seen her itch things with it.

One day I will sell a hit stick and call it “The Twin Pregnancy Multitool.”

We’re hoping to hit February 2nd, 2010 before we have the twins. Let’s hope her body cooperates.

I wouldn’t want to punish her for not following MY orders, since I’ve done every damn thing she’s asked of me since she got all “crazy with babies in her bell.”

I KID! She’s not crazy.

She’s certifiably insane in the membrane. If the membrane was her vajayjay.