Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas! Welcome to our first annual Oakley family Christmas letter. I have found that the Christmas season is a good time to evaluate my life, goals, and most importantly my personal relationship with Jesus Christ. He is working in me to be more kind and compassionate and to live a life that points others to Him. As we give and receive presents this year, my greatest hope is that each and every one of you have received the gift of salvation by accepting Jesus Christ as your personal Savior!

Last year we received the best Christmas presents in the form of twin boys. They were 6 weeks old at Christmastime, and I was a little busy to even think about writing a Christmas letter. People always ask me if the boys are similar and if they are identical. They are fraternal and as different as night and day. Some similarities that I can come up with are that they are both very sensitive, are both incredibly sweet, have such cute smiles which are great when you praise them for something- you can see the pride beaming off their little faces! They are on track developmentally with their gestational age (they were a month premature).

Matthew Scott Oakley is older by a minute and has a more dominant personality. He laughs all of the time, babbles, and it sounds like he is trying to copy words that we say. His vocabulary is increasing with his favorite word being mama. Ironically enough, he looks just like his mommy. Matthew crawls and gets into everything, and has even taken his first assisted steps this past week. Although smaller at birth, he is now about a pound and an inch bigger than his brother. He loves to go outside and meet new people, although he needs to get used to the person before he will let them hold him. One of Matthew’s favorite things to do is to stack his toys. He will either stack them or put his toys on any random object and the best part is that he cheers for himself. You’ll be playing with him and he will stack something, then go “Yay!” and either clap or put his hands in the air. It is best when you cheer for him and he gets so proud of himself!

Andrew James Oakley is younger by a minute and tends to be more passive. He does things on his own time frame- often will meet a developmental milestone and then not do it again for several weeks. He is crawling, pulling up to a standing position, and babbles a lot, with his favorite word being dada. Ironically enough, he is the spitting image of his daddy. Although he is more passive- doesn’t care which toy he is playing with, happy when being held, if he gets upset, it is very obvious by the gusto of his scream. It still amazes me that he was in the NICU after birth due to breathing problems because there is nothing wrong with his lungs now! Andrew’s favorite thing to do is take everything out from under the changing table or unfold laundry and pull laundry out of the baskets. You can find him taking blankets from one side of him and putting them on the other side over and over again- it is quite humorous!

Paul and I are doing well. Paul got a promotion to assistant manager at Sheetz right before the boys were born which has enabled me to be a stay at home mom. It is much harder than I thought it would be, but wonderful all at the same time. We love being parents, and are so blessed by our twin boys.

Love,

Paul, Sarah, Matthew, & Andrew

New Hope

I was listening to the radio tonight and a caller was talking about the joy and hope we have at Christmas. She stated that the reason we have this joy and hope is because of Jesus' birth and how amazing it must have been for those who were able to experience his birth. For their entire lives, they heard about the promise of the coming Messiah and were so filled with hope when Jesus was born.

I think this is true on a smaller scale when any new baby is born. New babies are amazing miracles. To think how they were formed and how they grow in their mother's womb is nothing short of miraculous. When a new baby is born, people are filled with hope and wonder and joy. People breathe lighter, smile more, speak softly, and hold hope for this new life. Almost everyone is in awe of new babies. We want to see and experience this new life and soak up the innocence that this new creature has. It is hard to resist touching this new little baby, for maybe their innocence will transfer to us somehow.

New life brings joy. What a good analogy for our Savior. He brings joy into people's lives if they will only accept Him. If they reach out to touch him, to accept His goodness into our hearts, into our lives, we will be filled with hope and wonder, love and joy. But most importantly, we will have a new life, a new start. When we accept Jesus as our Savior by confessing that He is Lord, and we need Him in order to have our sins forgiven and go to Heaven, and accept Jesus into our hearts, then we will have a new life. We will have hope.

It doesn't stop there. Like a baby, new believers need nourishment, need help to grow in the Lord. Finding a good church is awesome, but seeking out someone to help you grow in your new walk with the Lord is even better.

Jesus is my hope in this often callous world. I love how the new life of a little baby helps to remind me of how Jesus came as a baby to give hope and joy in this world.

Natural Alarm

For as long as I can remember, I have always had trouble getting out of bed in the morning. I got my first alarm clock in 6th grade, and since then have pressed the snooze button at least once. Usually more than once! And let me tell you, I hate the sound that stupid alarm makes, that beep beep beep. It's enough to drive any sleep lover a little crazy.

I am happy to say that I no longer use an alarm. I haven't used one since October 26, 2009, the day after I went on bedrest. I have a more natural alarm now. When I was pregnant, it was the sharp pains I felt in my hips and the insistent urge to use the bathroom. When the boys were born, it was their cry that made me leap out of bed and to their room before I even took a second to think or breathe. Now, sometimes it is their cry that gets me up, but usually it is the sound of the boys talking to each other. I love that they wake up happy. I love that I now wake up to happy babbling instead of to beeping or worse, to crying!

I don't get to press the snooze button anymore, but when they are talking and playing with each other, I also don't have to go in right away. It is nice to wake up slowly as they are laughing and jumping and talking back and forth.

Homemade Pepperoni Pizza

I made homemade pepperoni pizza today using this recipe. I don't really see the need to re post the recipe since I copied it verbatim. I had a little trouble getting the pizza to become round, but all in all, it was pretty yummy.

Tuna Mac Bake

I was a little scared about making this one. I am not a huge tuna fan, and neither is Paul or Matthew. Andrew tolerates it, but it doesn't seem like his favorite. However, I was pleasantly surprised by how yummy this was. Matthew and Andrew gobbled it up, and Paul, well, Paul ate it. He didn't like it, although he had it set in his mind that he wouldn't like it because it has tuna in it. But not a strong tuna flavor.

Tuna Mac Bake

Make a box of macaroni and cheese, following the directions on the box
Add a can of tuna to finished mac and cheese
Add 1/4 cup water
Stir well in baking dish, then crumble crackers on top (I used Ritz)
Sprinkle cheese on top

Bake at 350 for 20 minutes.

Lasagna

I am a little lazy when it comes to making lasagna, and I have to say, it tastes so much better now than before when I followed the directions to the T.

In a bowl, combine:

1/2 pound ground beef

1 can tomatoes

1 cup pureed spinach

1 cup shredded cheese

1 cup shredded mozzarella

(add or omit any of your favorite lasagna toppings)

Do not cook the lasagna noodles. Instead... lay the noodles in a 10x13 glass pan (or metal, whatever)- usually three beside each other, then spoon mixture over noodles, making sure you cover the entire noodle, repeat layers 3-4 high, and at the top layer, add a little extra cheddar and mozzarella cheese. It is delicious!

I also made with it garlic cheddar quick bread which was amazing and easy. I got from my friend Sarah (no, not me).

Chili

I have not been as consistent with my recipe postings as I had originally hoped to be. I veered from my list of having chili today and tomorrow and instead had it Monday and Tuesday when it was frigid.

Chili:

In crock pot, combine:
1/2 pound ground beef
2 cans of kidney beans
1 can black beans
half bag of frozen corn
1 can tomatoes
a few shakes of chili powder

cook on low 6-8 hours.

For potato topped chili, make baked potatoes (poke potatoes with fork, wrap in aluminum foil, and bake at 450 for an hour- an hour and a half. Cut potato in half and pour leftover chili from the night before, add dollop of sour cream, perhaps some cheese, and yum!

Anxiety Part II

First of all, let me clear something up from my last post. When I was complaining about people giving me advice, I was not referring to anyone in particular... I was just overwhelmed by all of the advice all at once, and am ridiculously hard on myself. I hope I didn't make anyone feel paranoid, because that was not my intention.

My original intention with this post was to describe how much better my anxiety has been. Once the boys hit about 11 months old, it seemed that they mellowed out a lot and, even when they were/are fussy, it doesn't affect me in quite the same way. Sometimes I still feel like I am not going to make it through the day, but that is not every day, all day.

However, once I put it out there that my anxiety is so much better and how great I feel, it seemed like our finances completely fell apart. It turns out we need to patch the roof ($800), and will soon need to replace the roof, all of our bills hit at once, and the worst thing is that the boys lost their medicaid. I know I am going to be judged big time for admitting that the boys have medicaid as their secondary insurance, but there it is. After spending $7000 on Matthew's clubfeet alone in a 6 month time span, we pursued medicaid, and was approved, and that lifted a huge weight off my shoulders (and yes, I say "my" because Paul says I worry enough for the both of us, so he doesn't worry).

And now that Matthew is due for another set of boots and bars, he of course lost his medicaid. Of course! I am not sure why, and we are under appeal. But this whole thing has me so stressed out, and I am not sure how we are going to make it. There is just so much to worry about.

We are so blessed that I have been able to stay home with the boys for the past year, and I really hope I will be able to continue. I have been racking my brain about things I can do from home- things like babysitting (even for people who work 3rd shift), trying to monetize on this blog, although that is stressing me out because I don't understand the computer language, and looking at other options on the internet, but there are just so many scams.

I would love to end this post saying that I am fine, the anxiety is not getting to me. But the truth is, it is in high gear. I am having trouble sleeping at night due to thinking about this (oh wait, that may be my sick babies, haha), but while I am up with my sick babies I think about this. I dream about it. I'm working on it. I just hope something pans out.

A Game of Chase

Matthew loves it when Paul or myself chase him around the house. He loves it more than being caught. It used to be the other way around- he would giggle whenever we caught him and wouldn't crawl very far until he would stop to be caught again. Now, however, he loves the chase. He loves when we chase after him and will giggle as he is crawling away, looking back periodically to make sure we are still chasing him. (Note: we are not always playing with him when we chase him, but he doesn't know that, or care).

Matthew has now involved Andrew in the game. I don't know if Andrew is aware that Matthew is playing chase with him, but whenever Andrew is on the move, Matthew crawls in front of him, laughing, and will stop periodically to look back to make sure Andrew is still chasing him. Sometimes I think Andrew is in on the game, and sometimes not, but it is so much fun to watch them play chase and to envision how much fun they will have growing up together- constant playmates, best friends.

I'll meet you at your crib

A few mornings ago, after the boys woke up, I put Andrew in Matthew's crib so that I could change Andrew's sheets. I was expecting them both to cry, but instead, they loved it! They were giggling and laughing and playing with each other. It was so cute! Every morning since then, if I pick Andrew up first, he tries to nose dive into Matthew's crib to hang out. It is adorable how excited he gets to be in there.

It kind of reminds me of their early months when they shared what is now Matthew's crib. They would snuggle together and sleep wrapped up in each other. Even if I put them on opposite sides of the crib, I would hear them in the monitor grunting and being restless. When I would check on them, they would inevitably be smooshed into one another, sometimes sucking on each others' hands. Sometimes I miss those days.

Anxiety part I

I guess I realized in high school that I was struggling with anxiety. I got a bad grade on a test and had my first anxiety attack- full blown couldn't breathe, chest pains, thought I was having a heart attack. I went to the doctor and they couldn't find anything wrong with me- probably anxiety, they said. Well, it got worse in college to the point where I was having them almost every day. Anxiety attacks always happened in big crowds, and well, it's hard to stay away from crowds in college.

It got significantly better when I got married. Social situations were still a bit stressful- I would agree to get together with someone, and then about an hour before, regret it and stress out about what we would do, talk about, if I would say something stupid (which, I inevitably do... I have chronic foot in mouth disease!). To be honest, I still get anxious before a social situation, but I am almost always glad I made myself be social afterwards, because I really do love spending time with friends and family. I just get stressed out beforehand, which is frustrating! It's better if I just don't think about it.

I don't think I realized how anxious I was until I became a mother. I had a pretty difficult pregnancy, but I remember being pretty relaxed throughout my pregnancy. Except when people would badger me with questions- then I would get a little stressed. But for the most part, I wasn't too anxious. And then the boys were born and my anxiety hit full blown. Andrew going to the NICU for 8 days and Matthew having club feet and having to go through such intense treatment that made him scream hysterically and then whimper and cry all day and night made it worse. Oh, and the fact that I was getting 2 hours of sleep a day for the first 6 weeks. And breastfeeding wasn't going well. And I was lonely and taking care of two infants essentially by myself with little help. (Paul worked from 4pm-1 or 2am, would come home, shower and stuff, take the boys for 2 hours so I could sleep, and then sleep until about an hour before he left for work, and would hold the boys for a few minutes so I could shower and eat). During this time, the boys got used to me and only me, and pretty much wouldn't go to anyone else, including Paul. When I went back to work for a month, I would call home to hear that they had been screaming all day, Andrew refused to eat, and Paul was stressed. That was a big reason why we decided I would be a stay-at-home mom. I wanted to be a SAHM, though, so I didn't mind too much.

I wasn't too anxious when I was with the boys, but the moment I left them with someone else or put them to bed, it felt like I couldn't breathe. Andrew was very colicky and particular. I didn't make it through a church service until they were 10 or 11 months old, because Andrew would scream hysterically. So I would sit in church, staring at the number box (call system they have for parents), and wait for my number to show up, which it did, every Sunday. The first week they made it through, I was sure the thing was broken. One other time, I was amazed at how well they were doing, and then had a nursery worker come get me because it really was broken. Even leaving them with Paul so I could go to the grocery store left me in such an anxious state. I needed the time away, because you need breaks as a mother! But I knew that leaving meant that they would scream and cry, often the whole time I was gone, and I could not stop worrying, no matter what I did. I would pray, breathe deeply, think about something else... but nothing I did worked.

Nighttime was terrible. Because Matthew was still getting up throughout the night, I would go to bed with such a sense of anxiety because I knew he would start crying and I could not relax enough to go to sleep. I would lay there with such anxiety until he would cry and I would nurse him and then I could usually go to sleep. And the advice on it all was the worst. I would tell someone (or everyone) and it was, "have you tried this, have you tried this, you should do this, you should do that," and I know that people were just trying to help, but it made me so anxious and thinking that they didn't think I was a good mom because my baby wasn't sleeping through the night, or that I was doing something wrong. The thing was, I usually had tried their advice, but it didn't work and I felt like a failure. I have had some perspective, and I know now that they were just trying to help. But I stopped talking about it unless asked, but that just made it worse.

As I look back on it now, I think I had a serious case of postpartum depression. And I think it manifested mostly in my anxiety, although I would get angry at people for no reason at all. I was bitter that I didn't get to have a natural or even vaginal childbirth. OK, that still bothers me, but I am working to get past it. I was jealous of other people who it seemed to come so easily for. Sometimes I would even get angry that I had twins, because they are so difficult and singletons looked so easy. Even hard singletons looked easy because you could at least devote your attention to that baby instead of having to split it up and take care of two difficult babies, by myself. Shame on me, I know. I would even get angry that nobody helped me, which is ridiculous because they are my babies and my responsibility. Even in writing this, I know it's not even true, because people did help me, mainly my sister, and of course, Paul, and a lot of people brought us food- but when you are depressed, your depression lies to you, and that's what happened.

Since the boys have started eating crackers and snacks, around 10 or 11 months old, my anxiety has become a lot less. I now tell any nursery workers or babysitters (oh wait, that's my sister), if they get fussy, hand them a cracker. And they don't cry incessantly anymore. Andrew does sometimes, but it's not constantly, and I can leave him without him crying at all the entire time I am gone. And now that they are on table food, my anxiety has lessened even more. I don't feel the need to rush to get Matthew at night anymore. I will wait to see if he will stop crying, sometimes he does and sometimes he doesn't. I am confident that he will eventually stop, and am OK right now for getting up 1-3 times a night with him. Sometimes it is only one time a night! That is very encouraging for this heart!

Taco Bake

This is a recipe I came up with one day when I felt like tacos, but didn't feel like the traditional kind.

Ingredients:

1 can re fried beans

1 can black beans

1 can kidney beans

1 can tomatoes- drained (optional ingredient)

1/2 bag frozen corn

1 cup shredded cheese (or Colby jack)

1/2 pound ground meat (I chose beef), browned, drained and cooked with taco seasoning.

In a 10*13 baking pan, spread re fried beans on bottom. In large mixing bowl, mix the rest of the ingredients and pour over re fried beans. Bake at 350 for 30-45 minutes. I served mine over chips, but you can eat plain, in a tortilla shell, or with rice. All options are yummy!

Chicken, mashed potatoes, veggies

This is a pretty simple meal to make. I buy boneless, skinless chicken breast, marinate them in Italian dressing, and then put them on the George Foreman grill for 9 minutes. If they are big breasts, make sure you cut them in half to ensure they cooked the whole way through.

For the mashed potatoes, I tend to make them in large quantities, because I love leftovers, and the boys love mashed potatoes. So, cut into pieces the desired amount of potatoes you want, put in big pot, cover with water, and boil until the pieces are soft. Then drain the water, add milk and butter (or sour cream and chicken broth if you are watching your calories), mash it, then whip it with hand mixer. I usually peel the potatoes, but this time I didn't, and it was pretty tasty and a lot less work!

For the veggie: I used corn this time, but I usually do broccoli and cauliflower with a tiny cheese sprinkled on top. I boil it in water for 5 minutes and ta da- healthy and tasty meal! I forgot to take pictures of it, sorry.

Pizza Joe Cresent

I have had some requests for recipes from the meals I have made, so I have decided to do a daily, or semi daily recipe of the day. I made pancakes last night, but didn't think people needed a recipe to make those, since you can buy ready made pancake mix and just add water.

Tonight I made Pizza Joe Crescents. They are not my recipe, but Pillsbury, so I do not take credit. But this is how I made it:

1/2 pound ground meat (I used beef), browned and drained.

a handful of turkey pepperoni cut into fours

a cup of pasta sauce

3/4 cup mozzarella cheese

1 pkg crescent rolls

Mix all except rolls into medium bowl, then separate the crescent rolls and put the mixture into the rolls and roll them out. Bake at 375 degrees for 18-20 minutes. Enjoy!

When I asked Paul what he thought of them, he answered, "Not bad," which is his way of torturing me by really liking it, but not wanting to sound impressed. The twins also gobbled them up. And I had more than I meant to. So, all in all, a success.

Nightly tales

Matthew is still not sleeping through the night. He still wakes up an average of 3 times per night. I have tried nearly everything. I have tried the cry it out method for a week and let him cry for 2 hours before I couldn't take it anymore. I have tried going in and walking him around, but not nursing him. Nothing has worked- he is stubborn, more stubborn than I am. I have tried reducing the time I spend in his room. Finally, I have come to accept this as part of my life. Sometimes I get depressed about it, but usually I am OK and just realize that this won't happen forever. Maybe when he is weaned he will stop getting up in the middle of the night. I don't know. But I am better when I accept my reality, no matter how difficult it may be.

About 6 weeks ago, Matthew went through a phase ( and later learned 4 teeth were coming through) where he would not sleep in his own crib. He insisted on me holding him, and sleeping with me, and that was both awful and wonderful all at the same time. In fact, that is how I view him waking up throughout the night- awful and wonderful. Awful because it interrupts my sleep, and wonderful because those are the most tender and sweet moments I have with him. I can't even describe the wonderfulness of how he feels sleeping on my shoulder after he is done nursing. I can't wait until he is sleeping through the night, but at the same time, I will miss the nighttime closeness.

Andrew is typically a great sleeper and sleeps an average of 11 hours a night (unless he is teething or sick). One night when I was nursing Matthew, Andrew sat up in his crib, facing the door. He didn't make a peep, but just sat watching the door. I was hoping he wouldn't turn around and see me, because if he did, he would insist on being nursed too, and he takes 20 minutes, whereas Matthew is around 5 minutes. So I sat rocking Matthew, watching Andrew, and hoping he would go back to sleep, when all of the sudden Andrew started snoring and fell over, which did not wake him up. Oh, how that made me laugh- inwardly, of course!

December meal plan

I just realized that the last time I have updated my blog was during my last monthly meal planning. I am going to try and do so much better from this day forth! Anyway, here is my December meal plan- sorry that we are 4 days into the month.

1. Leftovers (taco bake and beef stew)
2. Mexican casserole
3. Hamburgers and homemade fries (both regular and sweet potato)
4. Cabbage Delight (*note* if something doesn't have a name, the main ingredient + the word delight becomes the name)- cabbage, beef, and mashed potatoes mixed together
5. Leftovers
6. Pancakes
7. Pizza Joe Crescents
8. Chicken, mashed potatoes, veggies
9. Chicken soup in crock pot
10. lasagna
11. Taco bake
12. Leftovers
13. Homemade pizza
14. Mexican chicken with salsa
15. minestrone soup
16. Tuna mac salad
17. chili
18. baked potatoes topped with chili
19. leftovers
20. Shepherd's pie
21. Grilled cheese and tomato soup
22. pizza
23. Chicken & veggies mixed with pasta
24. Chicken potpie
25. Turkey dinner
26. leftovers
27. tortellini
28. Grilled chicken fajita pasta
29. shrimp scampi
30. Grilled salsa chicken
31. spicy tuna melt

Last month worked out so well, with only a couple days not being made, that I am determined to keep it up. It helped us save money at the grocery store, as well as break up the monotony. I keep my calendar handy and add recipes that look interesting to the next month. Please feel free to add your own recipes so that we continue to have variety and new ideas!

November monthly meal plan

I am trying something new. I am going to start planning out my meals for the month in an attempt to save money and stop my daily meal panic. Lately, it seems like we spend a lot of money on food, and yet, don't have anything to make meals with. I don't make a list for the grocery store, therefore, a common conversation in our house is: "What's for dinner?" "I don't know" and then opens the cabinets and fridge, "We don't have any food." "But we just spent $100 at the grocery store." And then we eat cereal, or sandwiches.

I want to stop the madness! So... here it goes... an attempt to be more organized.

1. Hamburgers and french fries
2. Chicken potpie
3. Shepherd's Pie
4. Spaghetti
5. Pancakes
6. Chicken and veggie soupin crock pot

7. Tuna and Macaroni Salad
8. Pizza
9. Taco Salad
10. Lasagna
11. Burgers and homemade fries
12. Meatloaf and veggies
13. Meatball subs, mac n' cheese

14. Leftovers
15. Beef, potatoes and veggies in crock pot
16. Mexican chicken with salsa, rice, and veggies
17. Tomato soup and grilled cheese
18. Spaghetti with chicken and veggies in sauce
19. Homemade pizza
20. Tortellini

21. Leftovers
22. Cheesy chicken, rice, broccoli
23. Grilled chicken fajitas
24. Chicken with mashed potatoes and veggies
25. Turkey with all the trimmings
26. Leftovers
27. Leftovers

28. Leftovers
29. Chili
30. Taco bake

Midnight Blessings

Matthew woke up crying at 12:30 last night, and I got up to nurse him. I picked him up and he immediately put his head on my shoulder. He often does this until I sit down and then he will pop his head up and cry until I start nursing him. The other thing he will do will to lean away from me and look at the rocking chair until we sit there to nurse. So, I went over to the rocking chair slowly, because cuddling is my favorite thing and Matthew does not want to do it much anymore, because there are so many things to do- toys to play with, brother to knock over, lint on the floor to find and eat. Even in the middle of the night, he wants to eat and get back to bed, and resists when I try to linger and cuddle for a few minutes. He has dreams he needs to get back to!

I sat down, and the most wonderful thing happened- he continued to cuddle. I sat there rocking him for about 15 minutes, embracing each other and soaking up all the wonderfulness of the moment. At one point he popped his head up, stroked the curtain and then looked at me (we often look out the window in the morning), and I kissed his cheek, and he immediately snuggled into my shoulder again. After I laid him back down, I just counted that as a blessing. My first and perhaps best birthday present.

Birthday reflections

Today is the last day that I am going to be 28. I always get a little sad when my birthday rolls around- another year older, goals that haven't been accomplished, etc. This week has been like past years, reflecting on the year and my successes and failures.

In many ways, this has been the best year of my life. Paul and I own our own home (although that technically happened when I was 27), I gave birth to my two precious babies, became a stay at home mom, and have been able to stay home to raise my babies, something I didn't think I would be able to do. It has been wonderful in many ways.

It has also been a very hard year. I never realized how hard taking care of babies day in and day out would be. I have babysat for a long time and always loved it, but that was when I could give the babies back. I am glad I can't give my babies back, but I feel like I never get a break. It is constant throughout the day, as they rarely nap at the same time, and constant throughout the night, as they still don't sleep through the night. I am more tired than I ever thought possible, and this has brought some depression in my life because of it. Sometimes I feel hopeless that I will never feel rested, will always have to get up with them. I feel very alone most of the time. I also feel guilty for feeling these things.

I feel guilty because I have these two wonderful babies and I am so blessed! I have wanted children for so long and tried so hard for so long. I had a hard pregnancy, but it was worth it in the end. And now I have the privilege of raising these two boys, and it is hard that I have negative emotions about any of this. I feel like I have lost my identity, many friendships, and my energy.

But despite these negative emotions, I am still happier than I have ever been and am so glad that my life is going the way it is. This has been a good year. I hope my 29th year is better than this year. Maybe with a little more sleep!

Dream

My dream is to one day walk without my thighs rubbing together. To wave, and when I stop, for my arm flab to stop waving too. To be able to wear a pair of pants without worrying about the flab spilling over my pants. I dream of looking at a picture taken of me from behind and not seeing the rolls that cover my back. I dream of having strong abs that will support my back and prevent it from going out.

I dream of meeting people and not have them instantly dislike me because of my weight. Of not just being the funny girl, but to be pretty and not repulsive. I dream of being confident about my looks instead of insecure. I dream of a day when I will not delete a perfectly good picture of my children off my camera just because I look horrible, and oh that angle!

I dream of a day when I will be able to go longer than a minute before thinking about food. About not obsessing over every morsel that goes into my mouth. About not wondering if people are judging me because I am eating. I dream of not feeling hungry all of the time. I dream of waking up one day not dreading the day and my constant battle with food.

I dream of the day when I will be accepted for who I am instead of what I look like. My dream has turned into a nightmare, for I feel as though these dreams will never become a reality.

I am 49# below my weight from when I gave birth. I am 19# below my pre-pregnancy weight. And I am 70# from my goal weight. I dream of the day that these numbers don't take over my thoughts.

Minor miracle

A minor miracle happened in the Oakley household this afternoon. And I know that this might not be a big deal to most people, but it is a big deal to me, because this hardly ever happens. Both boys took a nap at the same time today! For two hours! Two!

Of course, at the time, I didn't know that their nap would be so long, so I started reading and then I cuddled with my awesome hubby before he went to work. And then, as Paul was getting ready to go for work, I decided to lay down for five minutes until the boys woke up, praying that they would sleep until 4. Well, they surpassed that, and slept until 4:20, giving me an hour nap. And I tell you, a nap never felt so good. (Well, that's not entirely true- it felt better during their first few months, but let's not revisit that time.)

Glorious nap! I wish two hour naps happened at the same time for both boys every day!

Exercise

I hate to exercise. Hate it, hate it! However, I made a commitment to myself that I would walk every day this summer except for Sundays and days that it was raining all day. I thought that would be pretty doable, since I am now a stay at home mom.

Matthew absolutely LOVES walks. I think they may be his favorite part of the day. You should see him, sitting tall, holding onto the tray in front of him and looking around eagerly the entire time. He is so cute. Andrew is more like me- he would prefer to play inside. But he doesn't mind them unless the sun is in his eyes, and he refuses to wear his sunglasses for more than five minutes- believe me, I try everyday to keep those sunglasses on his face to protect his little eyes, especially since he has the colobama, which causes severe light sensitivity.

Due to Andrew's eye condition, we go early in the morning before it is too bright outside and stick to the route with a lot of shade. Due to these precautions, Andrew also enjoys our walks. They both love to sit up front, so they take turns, and since we go six days a week, they each get three rides in the front each.

We have quite the system going. They wake up bright and early at 6am every morning. So I nurse them, change them, get dressed, and we go for our walk, which usually takes 45 minutes. The exercise is good for us. The boys have a better day with it, and I, well, I guess I do too. You see, exercise releases endorphins, and endorphins make us happy. And the sun does something to improve mood too. Which has really helped my latest depression (about a month ago, right before I started this exercise regiment).

However, despite all the healthy benefits of exercising and how good I have felt lately, I must tell you, I was ecstatic when it was raining this morning! I was nearly jumping up and down. And then the afternoon hit and that stupid sun came back out. So, reluctantly, dutifully, I loaded the boys in the stroller and went for our walk. I guess I feel good about it. But I kept my goal so far- we have walked every day except Sundays. I'm so glad tomorrow is Sunday and I get a true break, from walking at least. You don't get much of a break when you have twins!

Have I mentioned how much I hate exercising?

Laundry

I feel like I am losing the battle with my laundry. There is so much of it and I feel like I am never able to gain any headway. Ever since I can remember, I have always been very on top of my laundry. I would do it one day a week from start to finish. I would wash it, dry it, fold it, and put it away all in the same day. I had such a feeling of accomplishment!

Now, I am constantly doing laundry. One day, I might wash and dry it, the next day fold it, and the following day put it away. That is a good sequence for me. Usually, I wait a few days to fold it, another few days to put it away, and the only reason I put it away is because I need the basket to do yet another load of laundry. Of course, that is only one load, so I am doing this everyday, or every other day, because I can't seem to get more than one or two loads in a day. And part of the reason I only do one load at a time is because there is clean laundry in the other baskets that need to be folded and/or put away.

Gone are the days when everything was clean and put away in the same day. Hello to my current days of never ending laundry. And although I felt better about the laundry back then, I love my life more now as a whole!

Cuddling and sleep

I have been searching my memory and I don't think that I have slept a whole night through since before I got pregnant. There may have been a night or two in the second trimester when I was fortunate enough to get a whole night in, but other than that, not so much.

If I let myself, I can get pretty down and annoyed with how little sleep I get, or frustrated with the broken up sleep. Andrew does really well. He sleeps through the night, usually 10-11 hours without interruption, with the exception of if he doesn't feel well, teething, and when we separated the twins and put them in their own bed.

But Matthew... *Sigh* Matthew struggles with sleep. He goes to bed a lot easier, but he still wakes up through the night. Lately, he has only been getting up once or twice through the night unless his braces rub a sore on his feet. I can handle that one or two times. And the nights where he is up 6 times get to me, but those are the nights when his feet hurt, so I can cut him a break with that.

Although I get annoyed when I have to get up and nurse him, I also savor these times, because we get some good cuddle sessions in. Well, he is asleep, so he is mostly sleeping on my shoulder. Which I love! It is rare that I get some good cuddling in with Matthew because he is so energetic and wanting to play as soon as he is done eating, that I am actually OK with those night wakings. Because after all, he is only little once, and these days are so short. They are sweet times, albeit exhausting times. And even though I get up reluctantly, I end up rejoicing and thanking God for my little miracles. And usually stay in there room rocking and cuddling with Matthew longer than necessary because there is nothing better than having my babies sleeping in my arms, smelling the top of their sweet heads, and listening to their even breathing as they sleep.

Morgan

Two years ago today, tragedy struck my body and my life as I miscarried our dear sweet Morgan. After years of trying to get pregnant, I was so excited when I finally was, and had so many hopes and dreams answered and beginning for the life of this child. I was nine weeks and two days along, when that fateful day came.

I think my miscarriage really shaped my life and my faith. I still hurt deeply and mourn the loss of my child. I wonder what life would be like if we had another, little older child running around. I wonder if we would still have the twins. More than anything, I miss him/her. I never got to hold that child in my arms, but I will always hold him/her in my heart. I will always remember the day I lost this child- 6-20-08 and I will always remember my due date 1-21-09.

Life is happier now that I have my two miracle babies, and they have repaired so much hurt in my life. They bring such a joy to my life that I never thought possible. But I still miss Morgan, and wish this child was still alive.

Weddings

Last weekend, my husband's brother Stephen got married. As I was sitting in the rehearsal trying to get some good photos, it occurred to me that I could only get the bridesmaids faces (already off to a good start, ha ha). Since I was sitting on the groom's side, I couldn't get any good ones of Stephen's face, and at best, only got his profile. It also occurred to me that it would be this way the following day at the wedding. Which got me thinking...

The bride's family will be taking pictures and get good pictures of Stephen and the groom's family will be taking pictures and will get good pictures of Kristen. And since the bride and groom face each other during the ceremony, it is much like the bride is looking at her husband's family that she is marrying into and accepting all of us as her family, and the same for Stephen to the bride's family.

And of course, that got me thinking of my own wedding day and the still made jokes about how I am the crazy one because I married into the family while all of them were born into the family. But see, when you are dating, engaged, and newly married, you don't realize the implications of marrying into your beloved's family. You are only thinking of your beloved and excited about spending your life with him/her. You don't realize the impact of your spouse's family on your marriage and life.

There are a lot of positives about this reality, for you have another family to love and to love you, a whole group of awesome people that you now fit with, and people who you care about and who care about you. That's the hope anyway! Because you were not born into this new family, you aren't always sure where you fit in, or if the family likes you- at least that's my experience. Of course, that's my MO in life- wondering if people truly do like me, but that's another story. Continuing on...

There is a lot of transition into this reality of marriage as well. The transition period is hard as you learn to leave your family and cleave to your beloved. It is hard for the family to think of you as married and treat you as such, especially if you married young, like my husband and I. Your family still thinks of you as children and treats you as such. And then there is this strange phenomenon where you act as you always did with your family of origin when you are around them. This can be very frustrating to your spouse, especially if it is very different than who you are now as a maturing individual. But you both do it! Usually. For instance, in my family of origin, I was the middle child (and hence, never feeling like I belonged- unfortunately a feeling I still have many times), shy, super sensitive, quiet, and stubborn. I think I have come a long way from those descriptors. I can still be pretty sensitive, although I try not to let things get to me.

Marriage is wonderful. It is very hard, but anything worth doing is hard! It takes a while, even a lifetime to figure each other out, to accept each other for who they are, and to get used to your spouse's family.

All of this because I couldn't get a good picture of Stephen... ha ha.

Conflicted

I have been conflicted lately on the topic of bedtime. For the past month, my boys, usually Matthew, has been getting up 3-7 times a night. This started happening when they figured out how to roll over, which is also when we started sleeping them in separate cribs. I attribute some of this to missing each other. They used to snuggle up close to each other and sleep practically on top of one another. It didn't matter how far apart we slept them from each other, they always found their way to each other to sleep. It was incredibly sweet. And then Matthew began rolling over, and because of his boots and bars, we decided to sleep them in separate cribs so that Matthew didn't clobber Andrew with his braces.

And that was the beginning of the end. Matthew rolls over in his sleep, or wakes up and rolls over- I'm not sure which one. Whichever one it is, he can't roll back over. He hasn't done it without his boots and bars on yet, and I am sure it will take him a little longer to figure it out once he does start rolling both ways. Therefore, he can't fall back to sleep. I have tried letting him scream it out (more on that in a bit), but when I went to check on him, I found him nearly thrashing and hitting his head on the crib. That really scared me. I have tried rolling him back over, which has only worked twice. The one night that I was determined not to nurse him every time he woke up was the night he woke up 7 times.

I am also conflicted about the whole "let them cry it out" thing anyway. In one way, I can see how it can be beneficial. They learn how to self-soothe and then I get to sleep more, which causes a lot of positives in my mood, patience levels, ability to comprehend/concentrate, and my mental health. (Let's face it, it can get depressing not being able to sleep).

On the other hand, I want my babies to know that they can trust me to be there for them when they need me. I am supposed to be an example for God for my children, and God is always there for me when I need Him. Shouldn't I be there for my children when they need me? I want my babies needs to be met- what if they are going through a growth spurt and are legitimately hungry. Or teething and need comfort. Or sick or hurt or wet? Every time that I convince myself to let them cry it out, I think of these things and talk myself right back out of it. And I remember the one time I was going to let them cry it out, lost my nerve, and it turned out Matthew had soaked through his diaper, outfit, and sheets.

Parenting is hard.

Not for the faint of heart

I think I have said this before, but I will say it again. I absolutely love being a stay at home mom. I love being able to meet my babies' every need, love being able to watch them grow and learn and discover the world around them. For example, who knew that running water so so fascinating! I didn't realize that until Matthew would be looking around until I turn on the water and then he whips his head around to focus on that running water. Fascinating stuff.

That being said, I had no idea how hard it would be to be a stay at home mom. I had always thought that it would be a piece of cake- you get to play with your babies all day, and how hard is that? Well, as it turns out, that is not all that you do. My day starts between 5am-6am, except on lucky days like today when it started at 4:30am. And the boys aren't in bed until 8pm, sometimes a little earlier, rarely a little later. Yes, they do nap, but rarely at the same time, and Andrew only naps in 20-30 minute increments. That, along with the night time wakings (between 2-6, lately more on the 6 side due to teething), and it makes for long days and long nights. Being on call 24/7 to meet the needs of two little people is hard. Really hard.

As much as the lack of sleep and utter exhaustion is hard, I think the hardest thing about being a stay at home mom is the loneliness. I have virtually no one to talk to. Even when Paul is home, it is hard to have a conversation because of the needs of the babies. And because of that, my communication skills are virtually gone. I start a sentence and in the middle of it, the train of thought is gone, or I will put a word in a sentence that doesn't belong. I don't feel as sharp as I used to, because I talk to babies all day long. And as much as I love that, it's difficult being around people because I don't feel interesting or even a valuable communicator anymore, because let's face it, I'm not.

It takes a lot of sacrifice to be a stay at home mom. I have always been frugal, but we have had to take it to the next step. It is so worth it, though, because I believe that this is the most important job in the world. And we are surviving. We may not be rich, we may not be able to buy or do anything we want, but we are making it, and I am so grateful and happy to be able to make this sacrifice for the good of our family!

Bedtime

Although I enjoy most of my time with my babies, I absolutely hate bedtime. It is the most stressful part of my day, and is usually when I am most exhausted, so my patience is also low. Around 6 or 6:30 every day, my babies become very fussy, which turn into screaming and uncontrollable crying. (I have tried putting them to bed at this time, but they only wake up an hour later, so I have to wait until 7 to start the bedtime process). I get them changed into their sleepers, nighttime diapers, and now recently, put Matthew's boots and bars on before I nurse them for the night.

Let me make an aside right here about the boots and bars. They have always been a pain to put on, but Paul was always there to help me, so it wasn't ever too bad (once we got into a rhythm and Matthew got used to them). And we always did it at a time where both boys were pleasant. However, now, it is torture. Because Paul works second shift, I have to put them on alone, and inevitably, Matthew will start kicking his leg, which will throw off the placement of his foot and I have to start all over again. And because they are super tired and ridiculously grumpy, I have to put them on while both boys are screaming. Well, Matthew usually whines, but doesn't start screaming until I get Andrew ready for bed.

So after they are ready for bed, I nurse them until they fall asleep and pray that they won't wake up during the transfer of nursing to getting up and putting them in their crib. That isn't so bad unless Matthew is in a really sensitive mood and will refuse to nurse when Andrew is nursing at the same time. That is really difficult for me because then I will have to listen to one of them scream until the other one is done nursing. And Matthew typically falls asleep much faster than Andrew, I have to make a choice of which one I feed first and which one to let scream. And sadly, it is usually Andrew that I let scream, even though he was fine nursing, because it is a much shorter time. I always feel bad, and I wish they would go back to tandem nursing consistently, because it was so much easier.

It is amazing to me, though, how every night I can't wait for them to go to bed because they are so fussy and I am so stressed out, but then they fall asleep and are snuggling up against me, and it takes me forever to actually put them to bed, because I love snuggling with them. As I have said before, there is no greater feeling than a baby sleeping in your arms. And then, when they are in their crib asleep, I just stand there staring at them, and am amazed at how sweet they are and I thank God that he gave them to me, and I pray for them that God will keep them safe, and that they will come to know Him at an early age and not stray from Him. I love my babies.

Thankfulness

I must admit, I have a tendency to complain. I take for granted all of the blessings in my life. I really and truly have all that I could ever ask or desire, and yet, I still complain. It is a quality about myself that I really don't like, and something that I am working on.

Among the things that I complain about, or should I say lament about is being so overwhelmed with twins that I don't feel like I am a good mother and that I don't get enough time with each child individually. There are even times, when I am super stressed that I wish I had had singletons (the same children, just at separate times). I feel guilty for that thought, because I truly would not want anything else. I love my children. They are so special and wonderful and I am so grateful that God chose to bless me with them.

Today, in church, it really hit me how blessed I really am. I got teary eyed when the pastor was praying, thanking the Lord for all the new life in the church and the blessings that children are. My number was even called, saying that I needed to go to the nursery to tend to my child who was crying (ok, screaming uncontrollably). I took him and held him on my shoulder and told him it was ok, to which he sighed and fell asleep on my shoulder. Not chancing putting him down only for him to wake up in the transfer (which he typically does), I took him in the service with me and felt my heart burst with love for him as he slept peacefully on my shoulder for the remainder of the service and the time of fellowship afterward. A lady behind me started crying as she saw us, mother and child, in perfect serenity.

It was then that I recounted in my mind the horrible struggle it took for us to conceive and how unsure I was that I would ever have children. And the Lord has blessed me with not only one child, but two beautiful, wonderful, high maintenance children whom I love and adore. And even though I am constantly exhausted, usually stressed out, often lonely; I wouldn't trade my life for anyone else's in the world. I am thankful for my life where I pretty much have everything I have ever wanted even if it's not exactly how I envisioned it; my husband who is wonderful and provides for our family and loves me no matter what, even though I am usually neurotic and annoying; my children who are the light and joy of my life and bring so much happiness; and most importantly my Savior, who has saved me from such a terrible life and who loves me even when I am horrible and ungrateful. I choose thankfulness today, and hopefully will continue to choose thankfulness!

Little tidbits

I must say, I really love being a mother. My babies are so precious and sweet. I love the way they look at me. They look at me with such love and adoration that it is hard for me to soak it all in. I know it won't be this way forever, but man, I wish it would be!

My babies are 5 months old now, and are doing so many fun things! Andrew can now roll over, although he has only done it twice. I missed the first time because I was changing Matthew's diaper, but the second one I got on video. That was last week and I keep hoping he'll do it again, while at the same time, wanting him to stop, because I love their littleness.

Matthew can now blow bubbles and make raspberry sounds. It is very cute. I often stick out my tongue at the boys and do a little spitting sound. Matthew now sticks his tongue out, then pulls it back in and does a raspberry. He is so smart! He thinks he is doing what I'm doing. I still haven't been able to get him to do it on camera yet.

I love rocking them, and having them sleep on me- Matthew always finds the same spot on my shoulder, and Andrew loves his head on the top of my breast, and then curls the rest of his body around it- SO cute! Therefore, they both snuggle in their own way, and I am in love with both methods.

Although I think they are sweetest and cutest when they are sleeping, I find that I am excited when they wake up, because they are a lot of fun to play with and talk to. They are learning different and new sounds with their mouths and respond to me when I talk to them. In the early months, I didn't enjoy them being awake very much because the only thing they wanted to do was eat (and at that point, nursing was still very painful). Now, we play, go outside, talk, and really enjoy each other!

Communication

They say communication is key to any relationship. While I agree that it is important, they don't say what kind of communication. I have recently come to discover that Paul and I have a language all our own. I guess it comes with having twins. I have heard that twins develop their own language, but I never realized that the parents of twins can do the same thing.

I discovered this new phenomenon when Paul's dad came to visit and I was trying to communicate with him like I do with Paul, and he was just not getting it. Before you think that we are freaks, we really aren't. This little nonverbal short hand came when the babies are asleep and we are trying desperately to keep it that way! Examples of this are: I will be nursing Matthew, and Paul will be walking/bouncing Andrew in an attempt to get him to sleep. I will put up my hand, will point to Matthew, then point upstairs, then point to Andrew (translation: Hey Paul, Matthew is asleep, so I am going to put him in his crib, then come down and nurse Andrew). We have all sorts of these little hand gestures that we do, like acting like I am drinking from a cup means, will you bring me some water.

I never realized it was different from regular communication until Paul's dad was visiting, and it was the scenario from above and I was trying to gesture for him to turn off the light, but he did not get it, so I had to verbalize what I wanted. Which woke the babies up. You see, we developed this little shorthand because the boys wake up whenever they hear my voice. Anyone else can talk, and they will stay asleep, but if I so much as whisper anything, they wake up and become alert.

So, Paul and I are a little different (that really shouldn't be a big surprise!), but the fact that we do communicate is good. It works for us and I guess that is all that matters. Disclaimer: we do talk verbally to each other too- just not when the boys are asleep/trying to get to sleep while we are in the same room with them.

4-6-05

Paul and I had been married only 11 months when his mom and grandmother were killed in a car accident. I remember that day vividly- it was a Wednesday, was gorgeous outside, and I was having the best day at work. My niece Erika had been born two days before and I was planning a trip to visit her.

It was right around 3:30 when I got a call from Paul at work. He was crying and said that his mom and grandmother were killed in a car accident. I told him that wasn't funny. Unfortunately, he wasn't joking. I went home immediately and cried the whole way home. However, I had to pull myself together. There was so much to do, and Paul was in too much of a state of shock to do anything. I made flight arrangements, called professors, jobs, pastors, family members, and packed. It was such an awful time. Our good friend Matt Knight came to be with us that night and drove us to the airport and picked us up again.

Side note: Sandy and Stephen were on vacation in New Hampshire, visiting her parents for the week. Scott was at home in GA working, Peter was a freshman in college, and Paul and I were both working and in college in VA.

We found out later that Stephen was supposed to be in that car- that they had gone to pick him up from playing basketball, and he asked to stay later. Otherwise, he would have been killed too. Thank the Lord he was not in that car. We still don't know what happened for sure. Lois (Paul's grandmother) was driving and somehow lost control of the car and the SUV behind them T-boned them. It was not the SUV driver's fault, but I still wonder how he and his child are doing. I wonder if they have nightmares and are filled with guilt. Or if they have flashbacks to that horrible day and the crappy luck they had that they were following this car or had even gone out that day at all. I wish that I could reach out to them and let them know that we are okay. That even though things are difficult and we miss them like crazy, we are okay and to release them from any guilt that they might feel.

It has been 5 years since that treacherous day. Sandy (Paul's mom) has missed so much! Her dream was to have all three of her children graduate from college, and they all did! But she didn't get to see any of them. She never got to meet her grandchildren, although I like to believe that she is taking care of the babies that I miscarried. There are so many things that we want to share with her, but can't, like the upcoming wedding of her baby, Stephen. I also feel badly for Lois' youngest granddaughters. Lois made these beautiful quilts for each of her grandchildren when they graduated high school. But, they didn't get one. I mourn for them.

There are so many things that I want to talk to Sandy about, but will now never get the chance. I want to apologize for the fight we had leading up to our wedding. I have so many regrets and live with such guilt, and have no way to make things right. I want to tell her that I understand her so much more now and I want to share our children with her. She was a fun lady, and I miss her!

It is so hard to see Paul going through such pain with missing his mother. I wish I could take that pain away from him. Every thing that we go through, he says he wishes his mom was here. When I was on bed rest in the hospital, he wished he could talk to her and get her advise. She was a labor and delivery nurse, so her knowledge would have been so helpful. I don't think that we will ever stop wishing for her to be here. It would be so great to get her advise and knowledge on things. She raised three great sons, who have not strayed from the Lord. She has a wonderful legacy. Her children have risen and called her blessed.

Easter

I was reflecting a lot about Easter today and all that it entails. I have a whole new perspective on this day now that I have children. I have two precious little boys whom I love more than I thought possible. I would do anything for them, and believe that I would even die for them if I had to in order to keep them safe.

This got me thinking about how God sent his only son to die for all of the sins of mankind. I don't think I could do that. I don't care if it saved the entire world, I don't think I could let my son die, much less send him to die so that someone else, who doesn't even deserve it, could have life. I am selfish that way. God, on the other hand, loves me and everyone else so much that he made that sacrifice and sent his son to die for me so that I (and everyone else) could live. And his son died a horrible death, and did it so that people who believe in him will be able to get to heaven.

The way to get to heaven is simple- you believe in your heart that Jesus is Lord and confess with your mouth, and you will be saved. Saved from your sins (everyone has them!), saved from a hopeless life, saved from the horrors of hell. AND, even better, because I believe and have asked Jesus into my heart to live, I now have a relationship with the God of the universe. I know that I too often take that for granted, but I am so glad that God is patient with me and loves me through it all- the good, the bad, and the ugly.

I hope and pray that my life is different and that I make God happy. I know that I still mess up, but, thankfully, that doesn't make God hate me! He still loves me and wants to have a relationship with me, and with everyone else!

Andrew's tongue

Andrew is fascinated with tongues. Somewhere in his second month, probably toward the end of it, I noticed he would move his tongue when I talked to him. He always watches my mouth when I talk or sing, and moves his tongue right along with me. Because he seems so interested, I do a lot with my tongue. I stick it out at him and you could tell he would try to stick his out back, but had the hardest time mastering that. I would also move my tongue in and out. He thought that was the funniest thing and would just laugh at that. Even our pastor gets in on the fun and does funny tongue movements to him and he just thinks that is the most interesting thing ever.

It has also prevented him from crying. If he gets a big lower lip, or starts to whine, I will stick out my tongue to hold him off and it sometimes works. He will smile and engage and try his hardest to stick that tongue out. In fact, if you look at most of his pictures, if his fist is not in his mouth, his tongue is turned sideways. He is always playing with it.

Yesterday, I got Andrew up and was changing his diaper. He gave me this huge pouty lip, and I thought he was about to cry, and then, I saw it. His tongue emerged. He was sticking his tongue out and he was proud of it! He smiled at me and I laughed and stuck mine back at him and we did that ALL day long. Everytime I looked at him, he stuck out his bottom lip and out came the tongue. He is so much fun!

Fear

After evaluating myself recently, I have discovered that I have a lot of fear that I live with. I don't think I ever really realized how fearful I am, because in my head, I am pretty brave and courageous. I have been through a lot in my life and have always considered myself to be pretty strong. However true that may be, I also fear quite a bit.

I have silly fears like spiders and bugs. I have this weird fear that when my babies start crying, I am afraid that there are spiders in their crib and they are getting bitten. Not every time they cry, but when they scream suddenly. It freaks me out. I dash in there, and not once has that fear happened, thank the Lord! I saw arachnophobia as a child, and have been terrified of spiders ever since.

I get fearful when driving and someone acts erratically on the road. Or if I am in the passenger seat and the driver doesn't have his/her hands on the wheel and are doing other things, like scratching their eyes or trying to get a CD to put in the CD player. I know, I know, my small group members are mentally going "10 and 2, Paul" because I yelled that at him when we were driving through a construction zone and he was scratching his eye and swerved slightly.

However, the fear that paralyzes me is the thought of Paul and my precious babies dying. It terrifies me. I had a dream before the boys were born that we were driving to Hershey for Matthew's clubfeet appointment and we got into an accident and I was the only one who survived. I woke up, bawling my eyes out, and even as I write this, find myself crying. I would want to die with them. I can't imagine my entire family dying at the same time and ever being OK again. My prayer is that I will be able to see my babies grow up and that we will all die in old age.

I am also afraid of dying before my babies grow up. I can't imagine the damage that they would go through to have one of their parents die as a small child. My dad almost died when I was almost 8, and I can't envision my childhood or life without him. I think I would be very screwed up. Even more so than I am! He was my rock, and someone I could always go to and talk to about anything. I would be a very different person without him- a worse person.

I know nothing is promised to us. I am not promised to live to old age and I am not promised that my beloved husband or precious children will not go before me. That is what scares me the most. I can pray that these things will not happen, but they do happen to people. And who says it can't be me? I honestly don't know what I would do.

I am going through a bible study right now, and we have just faced this question: If your worst fear came true, what would you do? I don't know how long it would take me to get off the floor and stop wailing. I can't get past that part, but the leader encouraged us to keep saying, "then what would you do" until I get to the point where I am able to say, "If my family should die, then I know my God will take care of me." I know that is true. I know it more in my head than in my heart. I suppose that shows my lack of faith. I know that I would be miserable and angry and oh so damaged. I also know that I would eventually get to the place where I would put my trust in God for Him to take care of me. At least I hope so. However, in saying this, Lord, please don't let my worst fear come true!

Hair

I am reminded of a scene in Little Women when Amy says to Jo after she cuts her hair, "Your one beauty." That is how I feel about my hair. I don't really see myself as much to look at, but the one thing I do think is attractive about myself is my hair. And maybe even my eyes. I have been blessed with good hair, and have only had one bad haircut (last year). But because of that haircut, I have been nervous about getting my hair cut again. But, it was time. What do you think?
Before (with Matthew)

After

From Back

It is the shortest I have ever had it, but I am thinking I might just like it.

Laughter

They say that laughter is the best medicine. Well, I believe it! And baby laughter is music to the soul! Andrew has been laughing since he was about a month old- in his sleep. And then a few weeks ago, he started laughing in response to Paul and I. I had the hiccups the other day and he was laughing hysterically. It was the only time I really liked having the hiccups. He has begun playing peek a boo, where he lays in the crook of my arm and turns his head into my arm and swings his head around and smiles. When he first started doing it, I thought he was tired, but then I realized he was playing. He started laughing when I say peek a boo. He loves that game. Paul was singing to him and there was this part where Paul was putting his face close to Andrew's face and he thought that was so funny and was giggling. Andrew also likes the game where we lean him forward to kiss his forehead. After a couple times, he will start leaning toward you to keep doing it. He loves to coo and squeal. He has recently begun squealing in this really high pitched squeal. Sometimes in delight, and sometimes in anger. He coos in response to questions- it is so funny and cute! He has the biggest smile, although I think the camera scares him because whenever I pull the camera out, he goes all bug eyed and scared looking.

Matthew is a little sweetie pie too. He loves to talk to you and has this cute little coo. He smiles when you talk to him and loves having your attention. He started laughing for the first time yesterday. He has cooed in delight or given one laughter/squeal for a couple months now. But yesterday, he was giggling. It was so great. I was changing him into his sleeper, so he was naked, except for his diaper. He LOVES being naked. Every time I change his diaper or his clothes, he starts dancing. He kicks his arms and legs and squirms his whole body in different directions, while smiling and cooing. It is so funny. And yes, he is the one who has the braces on his legs, but he manages! Yesterday, during his naked dancing, I was tickling his stomach by dancing my fingers over his tummy and up to his neck, and he started giggling hysterically. It was great. We did that over and over for about 15 minutes. It was so fun!

Matthew has also found his thumb and he LOVES it! He sucks it all of the time and is just so cute sucking on it. Andrew is still looking for his thumb. For now, it is the fist. I am confident that with time, he will find it! :)

What do you want to be when you grow up?

What do you want to be when you grow up? For as long as I can remember the answer to that question has always been a mommy. More specifically, a stay-at-home mommy. When I was little, however, I didn't realize there was a difference. My mom always stayed home with us- she worked out of our home. I didn't realize mothers worked outside the home. However, I soon came to realize that this was an unacceptable answer. I must have bigger dream, better aspirations than to be a stay at home mom. And, as my wise father pointed out, what happens if that is not possible. What is my back up plan? So that answer turned to being a teacher. So that is the answer I gave to the feared question of what do you want to be? But that never connected to what I really wanted to do.

I recently came across an old yearbook from my senior year. In it had the question, "Where do you see yourself in 10 years?" My answer: "I see myself being married to a pastor, working in ministry next to him, have five children, and driving a Chevy blazer." I know, I know, a Chevy blazer! What in the world!?! It has now been 11 years since I graduated high school, and none of those dreams have come true. My vision for myself in my youth is not the same as my reality. Oh, and I don't think I wrote it down, but my vision for myself was to be thin as well. Blew yet another aspiration! If we rewind a year, to the ten year mark, I was not driving the car of my dreams, had no children with no hope of having children, and did not have the profession of my dreams, my husband didn't have the job I wanted him to have, and I was fat.

Oh the difference a year makes. I still don't drive the car of my dreams (although, it is no longer my dream car), my husband doesn't have the profession I thought he would (although, that is no longer important to me), I don't have 5 kids. BUT, I do have two wonderful children whom I love adoringly. I am pretty sure I no longer want 5 kids. I'm still fat. BUT, my husband and I have worked it out that I will be able to be a stay at home mom. At 2:01pm today, I will officially be a stay at home mom. The premise of my dreams have come true. Not every specific detail has happened or will happen, but what was most important to me as a child, teenager, young adult has now come into play, and I am thrilled.

Although I am giving up my career willingly, I have to admit, I had a twinge of regret over giving up my job. Maybe not regret- maybe sorrow, a little grief. I have worked hard to be where I am at today. Once I got to college, I took education courses and realized I didn't like it. My psychology courses were a much better fit. I think it helped me come to terms with my difficult childhood and I wanted to help others with a past similar to mine. I wanted to work with children. In my master's of counseling work, I aspired to be a family counselor. Yet I hated the one job where I worked with families (although it was in their homes, and that could be the reason). A few jobs later, I look back and realize that I have not really been satisfied with any job I had. But, I was working toward a goal of being a licensed counselor, and maybe once that goal was accomplished, I could find a job that would suit me better instead of the ones I have held that weren't the best fit for me.

I wrestled over giving up my job. I would have liked to have worked one day a week or when my coworkers were on vacation- filling in now and then. I didn't want to give it up completely. I have a hard time saying goodbye to things. I latch on pretty tight, and have to make a mental disconnect before I am willing to let things go. I have to go through a mourning period. I am going to miss my coworkers most of all. I am not sure how it is with other jobs, but in the human services field, you really rely on your coworkers and become friends with them. They understand you like no one else, because they do the job too. And the job is draining. But just that little bit of understanding goes a long way.

So yes. I give up my job willingly. And doing so helps to fulfill my longtime dream of staying home with my children. I love my babies so much! They are so sweet and wonderful! I am a little nervous that I will never come back to this career that I have spent so much time and energy investing in. Although, like my dreams from high school are different now, my dreams for my life in 10 years will probably be different than they are now. However, the one dream that has remained constant is the dream to be a stay at home mom, and to shape my children's character to be good people who love God and are committed to Him and love others.

This begins a whole new chapter in my life. I am excited and scared all at the same time. I am very grateful to my husband who is willing to make sacrifices and work hard to make this dream a reality. And I am thankful to God who has provided and given us a way so that I can stay home.

Phone Phobia

I hate talking on the phone. More specifically, I hate calling anyone on the phone. I'm not sure what it is, but when I reach for the phone to call someone, I get this overwhelming sense of panic and fear. I never have anything interesting to say. And I feel like if you are calling someone, that person is the conversation initiator, thus topic picker. And I have no topics. Other than, you should see how much Matthew has pooped today. But who wants to talk about that?

I literally rehearse what I am going to say before I call people, and imagine the different scenarios of the conversation. Sad, I know. I usually don't even muster up the courage to call the person. Mostly because I can't get past the "How are you" in my scenario.

I don't even like calling the pizza man, and that is an easy thing to do: "Large cheese for pick up. Last name Oakley." But I always make Paul call. Come to think of it, I make Paul call pretty much anywhere. It is so weird, but my brain freezes up and I can't think of anything to say-witty banter or otherwise.

It's different when someone calls me. I am more relaxed, as I don't have time to over think it. Plus, I don't have to lead the conversation. I am a better follower than a leader. And Rachel (my sister), I am fine calling you, but we are best friends, and somehow it is different.

Part of the difficulty, I think, is because I can't see people's reactions to what I am saying. I play off of people. You can't see smiling or an eye roll on the phone. So I am never sure if I am annoying someone or hurting their feelings, or interrupting them. A long silence in person is much different than a long silence on the phone.

I can't tell you how many times I have said I was going to call someone, and then chicken out. And then I am so embarrassed, that I don't even try anymore. At times, I even isolate because of how embarrassed I am. Friendships have been strained due to this ridiculous fear.

I am trying to remember when this started, and I can't. I remember when I was 7, and went to call my mom at her friend's house after watching a scary movie (Cone heads... I know, not scary, but I was 7, and it was scary to see all those heads in a cone shape). I was fully prepared for her friend to answer the phone, but her son did. I got all flustered and instead of asking for my mom, I asked for Beberly (her name was Beverly, ha ha), and when her son asked who it was, I froze. I didn't know what to say. I know, I know. MY name, but I just couldn't.

Oh well. I guess my point is, please don't be offended if I don't call you. It doesn't mean I don't like you or that I am avoiding you. I just have issues with the phone.

Good baby?

I often get asked if my babies are good babies. This is a very confusing question for me... how does one determine what makes a good baby or a bad baby. I always answer yes, and always think that there is no other answer to give.

Yes, my babies cry a lot. More than I thought humanly possible. But does that make them bad babies? Crying is the only way babies have to communicate. My babies have a lot to say, and have very strong opinions about whatever it is they are communicating. But they are babies. They can't say, "I'm feeling lonely right now. Will you hold me?" or "I would rather be walked around so that I can see everything. Rocking is nice, but it isn't really what I want right now." or "I really want to go to sleep, but I am afraid that I will miss precious moments with you, Mommy." No, they cry. Scream, even, especially if you've guessed wrong. But that doesn't make them bad.

At times I get frustrated, but I have to remind myself that they have no other way to communicate with me. They are absolutely precious, and I love my sweet babies. They are good babies. But I don't believe that there are any bad babies.

I don't think people really understand what they are asking- they don't ask the question in reverse. But it still upsets me a little, that someone would imply that my babies are not good babies.

Thrush

I have never had a yeast infection until I had my babies. Ever! In 28 years! I thought I was homefree. And then, I had the boys. I had strep when I had the boys, so I took meds for that and got a yeast infection. It was treated, and no big deal.

Two weeks later, I had to have an emergency D&C due to part of the placenta still in my uterus, and to prevent infection, I was given another round of antibiotics. Ok, whatever. However, I developed a yeast infection. Only, it wasn't like the last one. It developed in my nipples, which made breastfeeding horrible. I seriously considered going to formula, and if you know me at all, you know that I am a big breastfeeding fan (but not the judge you if you use formula kind). I just always knew I wanted to breastfeed my children, and even bought books on how to breastfeed twins. I was (and am) bound and determined. So when I was ready to give up, I knew something was wrong. I was crying every time they sucked and was cursing under my breath at how horribly painful it was. I called the doctor, and they said I had a yeast infection. Ugh. So, I went on meds, and I called the pediatrician to get the boys on meds so that we would all be treated and get rid of it.

I thought everything had gone well, but apparently, something was looming and I just didn't realize it. At my 6 week check up, we noticed that Andrew's tongue was white. The doc looked and said he had thrush. So we treated him immediately, but apparently, it was too late for me, because I got yet another yeast infection. I was treated, and we continued treating Andrew. I thought we had finally nixed it, so we discontinued the meds.

And you guessed it: the saga is not over. Apparently, Andrew's thrush crept back up, he gave it to me, and I gave it to Matthew. So we are all suffering over here. I got meds for me and both boys, and I am utterly frustrated. It looks like Matthew's is over, mine is gone, but Andrew is still struggling with this stupid thrush.

I am so frustrated. It is ridiculous! I have had 4 yeast infections in 3 months. I don't know what to do. I am religious about giving him his meds. I have everything written down. And he still has it. I wash EVERYTHING, all of the time. I boil binkies and bottle nipples after every use. I wash my hands constantly. I eat yogurt every day.

What should I do?

Up to 3 months

The week the boys turned 6 weeks old was a big week for us in the Oakley household. We took them to church for the first time to the Christmas Eve service and they did great! And... they started sleeping in their own crib!!!!! It was an amazing experience. I thought it was a fluke, so I didn't go to bed right away, but was so excited to sleep in my own bed. Of course, it was only for a few hours, but that is okay, because, they slept in their own crib!!! And New Year's Eve, they both slept through the night. Of course, due to the fireworks and partying going on outside, I did not get as much sleep, but I was still excited.

Sadly, sleeping through the night did not last. But sleeping on their own did! It is still far better than having to hold them constantly, and I do get more sleep now than I did those first 6 weeks. I am grateful for that, but longing for the day they both sleep through the night. And the hard thing about twins is that just because one is sleeping doesn't mean you get to sleep, because the other twin could be awake and needing you. People always say, "Sleep when the baby sleeps." But that doesn't necessarily help me, because they don't always sleep at the same time. So they both might sleep 7 hours, but I might only get 4 because they don't coincide. Still better than 2 hours, though! I am trying to remind myself to be grateful!

The cute thing about the boys is that I sleep them in the same crib, which they love! I will put them on opposite sides of the crib, and when I check on them a little while later, they will both have scooted themselves to the center of the crib and have smooshed themselves together. It is completely adorable. Since I discovered that, I put them close together, although not touching, so that they don't have a long way to go to connect themselves. Recently, the difficult thing about doing that is that if one baby wakes up, is crying, and getting mad, he will T-bone his brother. Literally. I need to take a picture of it, but I am too busy grabbing the one doing the T-boning so he doesn't wake his brother up. But yeah, he will situate himself, so that he is parallel with his brother, usually against his head, and just slamming into him. Also funny, albeit frustrating if he wakes his brother up!

Another milestone: they started laughing, cooing, and smiling for real. I say smiling for real because they have always smiled in their sleep, since day one. It is the cutest sight. Of course, their faces go blank and confused when I pull the camera out, so I haven't been able to capture the really big smiles.

They love to interact with you. Ask them questions, and they will start cooing. It is like you are having a conversation, which, I guess you are. They also smile really big when they have your full attention. Laughing is rare, and not for a long time (I think they surprise themselves!).

Andrew is funny. He will be nursing, and I will be looking at him. He'll catch my eye, his eyes will brighten up and he will pull himself off just to smile at me for a minute, maybe give me a coo, and then resume eating.

Matthew gets so excited when it is time to eat. Remember, Matthew has braces on his feet. When he gets laid on the nursing pillow, he will pump his arms and his legs in celebration, smiles (sometimes whines), and when he latches on, he grabs my hand with his hand, and digs his fingers in as if to say, "You are not getting away from me!"

They also finally like their bouncy seats. They are little seats that vibrate and have something over them that makes music. The one has bubbles and little fishes in it that spin around. The other has a mirror hanging down and then the sides have stars that light up. They think they are so funny, and have long conversations with those seats. It gives Mommy a nice break to get some things done.

With all their sweet qualities and all the wonderful times we have together, it is not always wonderful. The boys are hard work. There is usually someone crying. I described them as colicky to Paul the other day, and he said that they weren't colicky. There was just someone always crying, but not always the same baby. That might be true, but it works on my nerves just the same. And they don't like to just sit and rock. They insist on walking around. I can't wait until it gets warmer outside so we can go for walks. I think they will love it! But for now, I can usually be found holding both babies and walking around the house just to keep them calm. I am constantly sore, but it is better for my nerves!

Although they both cry when they are tired, Andrew has this high pitched scream and sounds like he is dying or being tortured or both. The worst is when they both are nursing, but Andrew is done and exhausted, but won't let himself go to sleep. He will then start screaming uncontrollably while I am nursing Matthew. So I can't walk around or put him down or anything. He just turns his head and screams into my ear. I try to put my ear to his cheek to drown out the sound. Poor Matthew. He will be nursing and Andrew will start screaming, and Matthew's eyes go wide and looks at Andrew and starts nursing faster (or sometimes refuses to nurse at all). I can only imagine what is going through Matthew's mind when Andrew starts. And Matthew can reach insanely high octaves too. Matthew is a little bit easier to pacify, though. Don't be fooled. They might be cute, but they can go from 0-60 in seconds! They will be happy as a lark one minute and screaming their heads off 5 seconds later. It drives Mommy a little crazy.

Everyone says, "Oh, it won't hurt them to cry." However, both boys now have umbilical hernias from crying so much and so hard. Because they were premature, their stomach muscles didn't have a chance to close the whole way and screaming has caused part of their insides to go through this to the belly button. It sticks way out. My sister commented that it looks like a second penis. I don't think so, but they are quite large. The docs say that there is nothing to be done, and that it should resolve itself in time, but if not, they will have to have surgery to correct it when they are around age 4. We are praying that it will resolve on its own!

It is also hard to get out of the house with them by myself. They are both ridiculously heavy. Even if I carry them out to the car and then put them in their seats- how do I get the van door open while holding both babies? If I carry them in their seats, then I am really sore. And then I have to factor in how long I will be there and if I should even go, because they might be cranky or hungry, and I am not confident in myself to feed them in public, but I hate pumping. Dealing with all of these challenges, I have to ask myself: Is it really worth going out?

I am trying to keep things in perspective and not get so frustrated. After all, they are only babies and crying (screaming) is really the only way they have to communicate with me. I am sure it will get better, only to have different sets of challenges. They are really sweet and I love to cuddle with them and spend time with them. All in all, I think we'll keep them. :)