Poetry Thursday

Tied by endless need,
Tied by sore nipples,
Tied by sticky milk.

Tied by fascination.

Tied by cords wrapped around my heart
That pull and pull and pull.

Change is rapid now.
Wrinkled skin becomes smooth and full.
Signs of prematurity fade.
Downy hair on shoulder and nape of neck recedes.

But the eyes, the eyes remain the same.
The question in them,
Is it for me to answer?
Or are you trying to remember from where you came.
Firmly in this world now.
Do you think of it?

Thank you for coming,
Thank you for choosing,
Thank you for being,
My sons.

Routine Knitting?

Things in the Bean household are starting to resemble something of a routine, which I am sure will change in it’s own due time. But for the time being, I find myself awake after the usual 4 a.m. feed (they are just not big enough to make it) and it gives me a blissfully silent time of day that stretcheS until the 7 a.m. feed. I so know I should be sleeping, but the ability to rise early has always been mine, I cherish this time and find it is great for blogging. But I am beginning to think about the blogging thing because, essentially, I blogged because I knit. I did not knit because I blogged. Now, we know the state of my knitting, fairly non-existent. It did not bother me so much until right now. We hit the one month mark, my jelly brain began to resolidify to some extent and I found ravelry via others and began to get the feel, the itch, the desire to be back with needles in hand, projects on board, something to show. I have always loved finding photos of others’ projects and plans, so I am going to try to devote some morning time to knitting rather than surfing. This will be difficult, but I can get snatches of time during the day to visit all my faves. I do not usually have the luxury of two hands because of the needs of the Beans, so if I exert some discipline on myself, I may just have something to show.


In other news, we have growing babies, we have a lot more joyfulness with less stress due to some resolution in feeding, we have a mama with improving stamina and this all serves for a very happy household. I am letting go of my obsession with the boys intake-output. You do not even want to see the record of the first month. I have always been an excellent note taker, it provided me with scholarships throughout college and a little extra income when other students copied my notes to use in study (what they did not get was it was the actual note taking that helps one grasp the info). But I went a bit overboard with the Beans, recording amounts, dipe changes, etc. even at 2 a.m. now that I am getting this a bit and they are following a routine I have less anxiety about their feed amounts and the like. I am aware of the adage that everything changes just when you think you’ve got it and that is okay.

I have an amazing friend with triplets who inspires and guides me with her example of mother to multiples. We had some time together this weekend, first time meeting in person in years (we corresponded via email the whole pregnancy). She said such a great thing to us, that this whole thing does not get easier, it just changes and gets different. I love that she said that because I hear the ring of truth. Parenting is not easy when done right. It has so many subtleties, so many decisions and so many responsibilities. And this you just realize as it unfolds in front of you. Not easy, but different.

So, onward to Chapter 2. It moves quicker than a good trashy novel, this whole time with babies thing. Let us see if I can make it a bit more about the knits and fiber. I can at least try.

* For you out there that think our babies most serene, here is proof of their ability to cry. But I have to say we are lucky enough that it is only with need, not just for fun. Here they were hungry and, like, Mom, feed us already.

30 Cakes

I can get pictures on!!!!!!!!! Yeeeehaw! It works now that I did a little research, uploaded Mozilla and followed instructions. And now you can see Daddy turning 30 with his beautiful sons and homemade cake. Tim celebrated the onset of his 30s on Tuesday with a few homemade t-shirts 'from' his boys, and an unbelievably
chocolatey cake that I made that day and a meal at the table...it was a great! First baking I have done since Christmas. A bit exhausting but it felt so good to create in the kitchen again. May 22, 2007 was also the initial due date of the Beans...I remember the OB confirmed the pregnancy and used the little date wheel and told me and I sat there thinking the day sounded so familiar, like it was already important. When I told Tim he looked at me a bit askance and it hit me...Our baby (babies, but we did not know that at the time) would possibly have the same bday as Papa. Cool! Now, of course, we know Tim will keep the date to himself, and we will have that many more opportunities for cake! We ended up with 3 cakes total: my home baked, a huge Costco sheetcake for a family/friend party yesterday, and the real beaut...my great friend, a true baker, surprised Tim with a cake last night. We have yet to cut it as we were a bit overloaded, but I know it will be a singular experience. She bakes for a local bakery and was the one to create our wedding cake. It was really the best tasting cake I have ever had, it looked spectacular and she had to transport it over 300 miles, then assemble it on site. If any readers out there are looking, go to Some Crust in Claremont and ask for Katrina, you will not regret it. And though I have been focusing on the cakes, it is the man that truly deserves the recognition. He is just about the most wonderful Daddy, person, friend, lover, and partner this woman could want. He fills my heart with joy and song and I cannot wait to share in this, the next and best decade of his life so far. To you, my MCD, I say:

You are long hikes in Marshall Canyon.
You are dusty bike rides in August.
You are the best driver I know.
You are side-aching laughs during 2 a.m. projectile poop moments.
You are my husband.
You are their Daddy.
You are amazing.




Love, your girl, Amiee 0 (only you know)

100 Things

It is so late to jump on this bandwagon, I do not even think there is a bandwagon here. When I first started reading knit blogs I found the ‘100 things’ list everywhere. I wanted to join in but I was a reader back then, not a writer. Now that I feel I have some actual readers, I thought I might put this up for people to work their way through at their own leisure (if you can make it through this egocentric post).


1. I became a mom on April 24, 2007 and since then all the things I deemed important I now see in a new light.
2. I had two boys and went through what I am thinking will be my only pregnancy.
3. Our boys will probably be the main topic at my blog for the time being.
4. I used to knit.
5. I learned to knit late in life (post planned) but I loved it the minute knit-purl made sense.
6. I quickly became obsessed with yarn, books, patterns and blogs.
7. Lurked in the blog world for a long time, it took until last spring to work up the courage to start writing myself.
8. I was not popular in school (no big deal) so the ring of bloggers made me worried that there was cliquey-ness.
9. I discovered how wrong I was when I started posting, getting comments and responding. The world of knit bloggers is so far from high school.
10. My first correspondence was with this lady, whose blog and patterns I loved from the minute I found her at Knitty.
11. My great friend Ana taught me to venture into the world of knitting, it was the best thing she has ever done for me. (Well, there have been a lot of other things too, but, come on, knitting.)
12. I used to crochet; endless scarves, beanies and purses, but I always abandoned the practice because it felt so limited to me.
13. I knew nothing of quality fiber when I crocheted so there was little to hold me to it.
14. I have been knitting since I got married, almost 4 years now.
15. My first attempt was with the standard issue Michael’s package ‘I Taught Myself to knit” Kit. It taught me so very little.
16. I cast on 200 stitches on size 7 sticks for a baby hat….a baby hat, people. Pattern errata? I could not figure out why the brim fit around my waist. Haha.
17. This was during my extended stay in Australia.
18. Before babies (hence forth to be referred to as B.B.) Tim and I traveled the world with camp gear or pursued hostel living.
19. First trip: 2001: South Africa, Ireland, Holland for three months total. First time out of country. Experienced opposite seasons during the trip and fell in love with leaving America.
20. Next trip: summer 2001: Hawaii, islands of Oahu and Kaui. We stayed for a month in a tent at various campsites. Such unbelievable beauty, but we did get island fever and by week 4 all I could think of was going home. Now I wish I were back. Irony.
21. Various shorter travels: Loop through Montana, Wyoming, Idaho. Loop through Utah’s Nat’l parks. Many Yosemite jaunts. Frequent Mammoth trips.
22. Last big trip: 2003: Australia. Bought a beater car in Sydney that we named the Red Baron. Drove with my bro and his lady from Sydney to Perth in a 3 month span. Stopped willy-nilly along the way. Had the greatest of experiences. Learned about film photography through heavy experimentation and occ. library jaunts. Lived in a car/tent the whole time except three blissful weeks with friends. Inside. Realized I was too old to keep camping like that. Went home early (we were supposed to complete the loop around Oz but Tim and I said “whatever” and headed home.)
23. Now: I get super excited because we are planning our first trip cum beans. We will be off to the Sierras in July to visit the Cabin. Yay!
24. The Cabin is where all good things in my life have come about or to fruition. It is where Tim took me when we were teens and thought it was so grown up to go away for the weekend. It is where he asked me to marry him and where we got married. It is also where I would ‘take’ the beans during my hypnosis/meditation to help calm my pre-term labor. And now they will get there for real. Yay!
25. I live with extended family in the same town I fled from at 17. In the same house actually. With the same people I once ran from.
26. I lived in NY for 5 years during my college education.
27. I have yet to return since leaving in 1998, that makes me a little sad.
28. I wish I would have gone to Morehouse Farms back then, I am a little obsessed with planning a trip back East that includes this aspect.
29. My father is a first gen immigrant, he is Dutch-Indonesian.
30. My maternal grandma was born in NY and was obsessed with libraries.
31. I have inherited this obssesion from her and though she has passed, I think of her every time I enter a library.
She was also a kleptomaniac that stole books. She stole my algebra book once and read it. Then she helped me with my homework.
32. Neither my grandma nor my Oma will meet my boys here, but I know they met them before they came. I like to think they had a hand in helping our boys to come our way.
33. I believe we choose to come back here, but we just forget about it because we stop listening carefully.
34. I think Dr. Wayne Dyer is brilliant and I wish to create a faith structure around his teachings.
35. I was raised Catholic, in the Church, in parochial schooling until high school. I always wore uniforms. I have always flaunted authority.
36. Now I feel differently about it all, I feel Spirit-In-Action in every aspect of my life, so I do not worry about God. He likes me anyway.
37. I love my husband, my life and my home, but that was not always the case.
38. I am much happier than I have ever been.
39. I do not have a lot of intimate friends, the ones I do have are the kind that know how to leave me alone. Do you know what I mean?
40. Having said that, I hope to cultivate some new relationships in my life as I embark on the journey of motherhood.
41. Women used to scare me due to their unpredictable nature, I have had a bit of a reprieval having given birth to two boys as this is territory I know.
42. I am not a tomboy, but I was raised a strong opinionated woman with a brash mouth and a somewhat dirty sense of humor.
43. That may justbe part of being a Scorpio.
44. My boys are Tauri, the perfect complement to my Scorpio sign.
45. I used to be heavily into astrology, goddess religions and faeries, but that all faded as I moved through my 20s. (Thank god)
46. Now I am into reading the signs the universe gives us, and I am really into asking for that which I need.
47. I have 5 brothers and 2 sisters, all from the same folks, no twins.
48. My boys are the first grandchildren of the 8 siblings and as thrilled as the sibs are, they also chide me for setting the bar so high.
49. This is not an uncommon thing for me to do.
50. My family is really close and supportive, we like each other and spend time together (and live together) and though a challenge at times, I could not imagine any other way.
51. My husband is freakin’ amazing because he does not have to love them, but he does.
52. I have known Tim since he was 17, the age of my second youngest brother today.
53. We basically grew up in our relationship, we have never been separated or unfaithful, only finding out more about each other as time goes on.
54. But he admits he did not love me when we got together, he just thought it was cool that he was in high school and I was in college.
55. We did long distance (NY to La Verne) for 2 ½ years.
56. Hardest thing I have ever done.
57. We have not been apart since. I would never be apart from him again.
58. I marvel that I found the love of my life in my teenage years, I am grateful that I realized he was that and never f***ed it up.
59. He taught me to ride a bike. Right now I miss downhill mountain biking with a vengeance.
60. When I got together with Tim I could barely stay on a bike, now I can bomb trails that would have terrified me before.
61. He can ride like butter, smooth and easy, then, BAM, huge jump out of nowhere.
62. Yeah, I am still more than a little obsessed with my husband. Can you tell?
63. One thing I discovered, he hates the 2-4 a.m.feed and is so grumpy when he wakes up. Like, so grumpy. But still good to the babies.
64. And that cannot even be a flaw because he does the job, even if he cannot always muster up a smile.
65. This is getting old…the 100 things, I mean.
66. But I have a narcissistic streak, so I will keep going.
67. I used to have Panic Disorder, triggered when I was nailed by a car in NYC while biking. The attack was not triggered by the accident but by my refusal to go to the hospital.
68. It took me 3 years to seek appropriate treatment, but only 6 months of Zoloft to learn to control the occurrences.
69. I have been free of it for 4 years this month. Wow, it feels good to write that. And if you are reading (Really? Still?) and are afraid to take meds, well, I can only say it gave me back my life, and I did not become dependent, only capable.
70. I would love to start a business, I will not specify what type because I do not want anyone to steal my idea.
71. I would also love to design inside spaces using sustainable practices.
72. Tim works in the field of construction; the waste inherit in the field makes us both cringe.
73. When we remodeled we chose responsible remodel materials like bamboo floors, Richlite, concrete, and tile. Then we went and paint sprayed all the walls and probably killed half our brain cells.
74. We call ourselves the half-assed remodelers because we do all the work ourselves, but never really finish the details. And you know the devil is in the details.
75. Currently, there are 3 or 4 unfinished projects that languish, interrupted by bed rest and birth, and frankly, I could care less. One day, when things calm, we will git ‘er done.
76. I have a terrible tendency to use quotations from bad comedians, bad television jingles and really good silly movies in my daily vocabulary. I find quotes from Zoolander and Anchor Man particularly satisfying when worked in frequently. I do not think others find it as amusing and I often receive quizzical glances for this practice.
77. My youngest sister is named Emmalien and she and I love to joke around, once we get going on a topic we beat it senseless before giving up. My other sister Amanda gets exasperated and refuses to participate in our shenanigans.
78. I love having sisters.
79. I love having 7 other siblings because they have to love me, no matter what, and that is a heck of a lot of love.
80. I also have 2 s-i-l’s and one b-i-l that I totally love like family (technically one s-i-l is not quite there yet because we are waiting on the actual ceremony..but she has been around for years and years so she is sister to me).
81. We do things fast and loose in this family, Tim and I were married by my bro who was certified on the Net, my sister by a rabbi despite not being Jewish, my elder brother in a court house with two witnesses weeks before shipping out to Iraq.
82. He is back safely and he blogged the whole time, he can be found here, take a minute to read as he portrays an unspeakable war in words that eloquently describe the trials and challenges our men face today. You can support the soldier without supporting the war.
83. I wish I could write as well as my big brother.
84. I just had a huge flood of emotion because I glanced down at one of my sons and saw the world.
85. They are the singular most amazing and precious and superb things we have ever done.
86. I take a lot of pictures of them, trying to keep the memory of each moment in some form as I know it will go, they will grow, but maybe, maybe the feel of this time in our lives will never fade.
87. Except for the sleep deprivation, that can fade away any time now.
88. I think our babies sleep better as twins because their tiny little persons are never alone, they always have a warm body with them, one they swam and swarmed with inside of me.
89. It hurts sometimes when I look at them, it is that powerful.
90. I want to gummus them all the time, gummus is an Indo word for “Oh my god, you are so soft and delicious and squishy and beautiful that I almost have to eat you” (You can see why it is easier to say gummus. Eh?)
91. We are vacillating between co-sleep vs. co-sleeper vs. crib, we do them all and the boys do not seem to care one way or another, as long as they have each other.
92. I cannot wait until they do the ‘twin’ language, I will take notes and try to decipher, but I have a feeling it is an exclusive club. Either you are in or you are not.
93. I cannot wait until they fit in their clothes and grow into their elephant wrinkle skin.
94. I cannot wait until they say “I love you, mama.”
95. Wait. I can wait because I will never have this day again, with O in his sling purring like a kitty, limp to the point of bonelessness (and then projectile vomiting out of the blue.) (Ahh, such is the way with babies)
96. I think we need to say ‘Thank you’ and ‘I love you’ at least once a day.
97. I think we need to live responsible for our actions, words, and the footprint we leave on this earth.
98. I hope the world that my sons grow in and into gives them all that they need.
99. We plan to raise them as soldiers of Ishmael and his tenents and beliefs.
100. I do knit. Really I do. Or did. And will again. Really.
Thanks for reading. And I’m out.

mace man

mace man
Originally uploaded by senorayatez.

owie

owie
Originally uploaded by senorayatez.

Month 1

It is hard to believe a month has passed. 4 weeks ago Tim and I were breathlessly awaiting the surgery that would bring us our boys. I do not know if I will ever blog that experience, it was one that was difficult and scary, though in the end we were given the greatest gift, the beans, our boys. One month ago we began this irrevocable journey and the time has just flown by.

I want to update monthly as I think this will be a place I can come to for reflection, to reread and relive this time that is passing as quickly as the pregnancy did not. The significance of each week during my pregnancy was that it kept the beans in that much longer. The significance of each passing week now is that we are learning about our boys, their temperment and personhood, who they want to be, who they will be, what they like and do not like.

Owen is the big boy, the first born, his name means desire born and warrior. He is O to us, one of the many nicknames ascribed by Tim and I. We are overly fond of giving ridiculous monikers to everything in our lives. We have even nicknamed our car many times over. So he is O, Harry Houndini due to his ability to escape his swaddle (appropriate as my mom’s sisters swear their dad was related to Houndini), Ice maker (both get this name because they sound like a fridge dropping ice when they poop. I swear.) and Baby O. There are many more, we doubt he will know his real name by the time he can respond to our coos and silliness. He is chill, like his Papa. Mellow unless getting diaper changed, content to gaze at Dad’s black and white photos hanging over our bed. Really strong, muscular even, with calves directly inherited from his maternal line ( I possess the most shapely but somewhat masculine calves (of which he also sports). So strong is he that he likes to challenge all takers to a game of ‘Can you hold a wiggle worm, head throwing baby who is agitated?’. he sings a lot and sounds like a contented kitten when he is in his Moby wrap. Great little eater, impatient with the breast when hungry,(they have been bottle fed breast milk and are learning the art of cuddling mama’s boob) but loves the breast when agitated. And such a good, good boy. Gazes at us with such wisdom, still sees angels, furrows his brow seriously when hard at work eating or performing other important tasks.

Then Mason, named for the stoneworker, the good person. My little one, the Scrapper. He goes by Mad Dog Mason because of the ferocious way he attacks both breast and bottle when hungry. I will include a video someday, hi-larious. Also known as Icemaker. AKA MJ, Slippery Pete, or just Mace. He tries so hard to keep up, I can tell he wants to grow and match his bigger brother. But he also is the Cuddler, when we sleep them together we find him snuggled to Owen, closer than he was placed, always trying to bury his nose into his brother’s shoulder or hair. He is alert and vibrant, makes the most precious faces, gets that huge eyed stare when fascinated by something, looks at us with so much wisdom. He already listens when I read bits of Dr. Suess, tries to figure out what Mama’s songs are about, and cries only to let us know his needs. He has the more delicate system, gets the painful icky gas and has Mama slightly obsessed with his in-and-outs, never does a dipe get thrown without an inspection. She just worries because he was so little, so delicate at birth and still today.

There is another aspect to this first month of which I must write. Tim and I live in a multi-generational household. About 3 years ago, we started house hunting. It was exciting at first, but then so discouraging in the climate that is Southern California real estate. We discovered that we could not afford to buy a home in the town in which we both were raised. We looked further afield, then one day my dad approached up and offered us the house I grew up in. It came with conditions: both parents retired, two teenagers finishing high school, looking towards college, and a home that had sustained the damage of 8 kids tearing it apart since 77’, but we jumped. We took our ‘down payment’ money (that would have barely gotten us by) and invested it in major improvements on our existing home. We signed the papers and became proud owners of a home full of memories and people with a mortgage in the low 200’ s (almost unheard of in La Verne). Why do I include this info? Well, 3 years ago we never entertained the possibility of twins, jeesh, the possibility of kids seemed unlikely. But we did the ‘buy’ because it felt right. It was win-win and though most of America does not imagine having their parents with them as a step forward, we found that we liked them and wanted this. Is it hard at times? Hell, yeah. But it is also the reason I am writing this in the relative peace of an early morning with a cup of coffee. It is the reason I get to shower everyday and put on my makeup. It is why we have clean cars and eat some home cooked meals (let’s not push it, they ain’t hired help, you know.) My youngest brothers (at 16 and 17 ½) are learning about babies, about why they do not want one now and what is required to keep them happy. They look at me with new eyes, in some awe and fear of their sis, Mama Bear.

And Opa and Omie…what do I say about these two. They cherish and cuddle these boys, beg to be given feeding responsibilities, re-arrange their schedule when exhaustion sets in on Tim and I. They do not laugh at their daughter and her strict guidelines as to feed methods and sleepy time (and to think they have done this 8 times before and I am telling them what to do). They listen carefully to instruction (follow it...well, not always). Then when I start to crack or feel overwhelmed, they are there with a cup of tea or apple, or a soothing back rub that helps lift the tension and worry I carry that accumulates as the day progresses.
It has not been an ‘easy’ month. It is full of challenges, sleeplessness, and gut wrenching worry at times. But it is also full of smiles and the softest skin I have ever ever felt, hi-larious dipe change contests between punchy sleep-deprived parents and moments of utter peace when we look at each other with wide eyes, both thinking, What did we ever do to be worthy of this? What could possibly be better than where we are right now?

I cannot wait to see what the next month holds. And for you mamas out there who do not have those extra hands, those loving family members and friends willing to do the things you need…well, I salute you. You have a strength and fortitude that can only be understood by another walking your same path. Hang in there, and seek those who will be to you that my family has been to us.

warshrag

warshrag
Originally uploaded by senorayatez.

this was supposed to appear in the post that was about knits. specifically, it was to appear in the paragraph listing the food cravings i got during the last 3-4 hours of my pregnancy. funny, now that i can have the foods, i just don't want them. thank you, murphy, for your law.

mdk nightie

mdk nightie
Originally uploaded by senorayatez.

here is the nightie, sassy pink, i might need more yarn for the top lace, i am thinking a nice black. tarty, but that is the point. (yes, i have resorted to posting one pic at a time from flickr. what else to do?)

i frickin' give up. i have this post sans warshrag or mdk nightie progress. yeah, yeah, progress, not finished. but i so prefer to have photos. oh well, i have one cute picture of my boy owen, i could not get mason on..and not for lack of trying. but you can always click on the flickr tag, it will take you to some delicious photos. and stay tuned, i think i will move. never has frustration ruled me so terribly, ironically it has nothing to do with the insane schedule the boys keep us on.


I have seen it happen before, a blog once about knitting becoming devoted to the little creature thrust into said knitter’s life. Frankly, I quite enjoy the change, there will always be another blog with intricate exciting projects like this, but the baby thing, it just brings joy to see ‘em. It seems I am headed down this road myself. When they consume the majority of your time, effort, energy and universe, you think I would want to get away, eh? But you don’t. You just don’t. We have been keeping the beans close to home, fattening them up like little pigies, just to get them back to and past birth weight. We have been successful. It does require strategy and cooperation to do this, and I rarely leave the confines of the house, of late it has been rounds of MD appts. All the pictures have the same background because Command Central has been seized by the boys. We have them in a co=sleeper at the foot of our bed, the bathroom is literally steps from the bed, it is all within reach. The irony is, my knitting stash boxes hang next to the bed, looking at me with their tones and hues of delicious color, textures begging to be picked up. I am not overly eager to start, but maybe finishing some bits would be good.

I have here some of the projects on the needles. First up, MDK Nightie. The showing over at MOW really inspired desire to get this show on the road. Miles of st-st should be just the ticket, wouldn’t you think? Alas, it languishes by the bedside, receiving a row or two addition every so often. I am thinking of trying to finish it in 4 weeks or so, that is when most post-partum ladies get the go ahead to resume their lives in full. Might be TMI, but having a nice nightie to wear for the husband would be good. By then, I expect most body parts will be in the place I can expect them to be for the future. The baby weight has been going quite easily, I think it is because I was almost all baby, and these guys keep me running. It feels good to not be schlepping a lot more around, but there is still room for improvement, believe me. 4 weeks, there it is in writing.

Next up, simplicity in itself, the Warshrag. This was started April 24 in the L&D room while we waited for the c-section. I had eaten that afternoon, so we were expecting surgery around 10 p.m. It is a great little number and I enjoy watching the pattern unfold, but it remains undone because of the mess I have made of the ass end of it. I just have so little time as it is, I cannot face untangling the bird’s nest it has become. Maybe I will just bind off, make it a short rag and start another with another color scheme. I think that is the best part of it, choosing the colors. The day I started it I was also instructed ’no food or drink’ due to surgery and ironically, on the last day of my pregnancy all I could think of was mint chip ice cream, andes mints, maggie moo’s dark chocolate mint malt shake and pistachios, all evoked by the colors of the warshrag. The universe has such a sense of humor.


The last piece is one I pulled out of deep freeze. I started this years ago, the year my little sister graduated from HSU, so 2005. Spring 2005. I finished the pieces, blocked it, modeled the pieces and realized it was now Labor Day and white was out. Into underbed storage it went. Summer last year I got preggers, so why bother with bothersome seaming I would reap nothing from. Well, just this week I recalled its existence and now it is thawing at bedside. I am making it a bit of a secret until the big reveal, if there is one. This one is very dependent on baby weight regulation, can you see the shaping detail in one of the shots? Any guesses out there? It is one of my very favorite pieces, the pattern was a pleasure and the yarn cool and crisp in its stitch definition. Love it.

Update

I just wanted to let folks know I am still here, but I am having a bitch of a time uploading pictures to Blogger. It is so frustrating to sit here and get denied repeatedly, or get one picture on and the rest just will not go. I hate pictureless posts so I just leave the writing in the queue to be published later. Arggg!!! I have no time for these shenanigans. I may move to typepad as it has to be better than this. Any suggestions out there as to seamless picture uploads? I will return, I vow it. This is my one link to the 'other' world and I need it! Until then, girls and guys, I will just read yours and remind you to click on the Flick tag for your Bean fix (except that has been giving me trouble too.)(Argg!!!).

Peek a Boo

peek a boo
Originally uploaded by senorayatez.

Beautiful baby boy, Mason. (Bad, bad blogger that will not take my photos so this comes seperate from the post)

Remembering

I kept a hand written journal during my pregnancy and I was leafing through the entries the other day. I was much more disciplined at the beginning of the pregnancy, as time went on and my pregnancy progressed, I switched to the blog. It was easier to write online and not reflect so intimately on the happenings. I found that the journal entries were very emotionally involved, I usually addressed the boys, writing to them as if they will read it in their future, which I am sure they will with a very “jeez, mom!” attitude (being that they are boys, you know). It was easier before all the pre-tern labor started, before the bed rest. Anyway, I found this entry and I really, really liked it and thought it might strike a chord with some of the moms-in-waiting out there, if they are reading. Here it is:

Remember when?
Remember when you thought you could smell the toilet from the bed and could not imagine enduring 10 months of it?

Remember when?
Remember when you felt sick to your stomach and had to barf at least once a day, usually during your hike with Daddy?

Remember when?
Remember when you found out it was not one, but two babies and you didn’t think you could wait to find out what the mix was in there?

Remember when?
Remember when you were waiting for that first movement and you did not know what it would feel like and would jump at any feeling?

Remember when?
Remember when all those things felt like they would last forever (especially the toilet thing)?

Those things, they feel distant now.

Someday, and much quicker than I think, this time will become remember when and I will be lying in bed with my husband and babies and think…Remember when I had time to write?

February 1, 2007

I wrote this after I learned that I would be one of those special few that would get to experience the joys of bed rest. I was scared, terrified really, and trying to bolster my spirits and hope for the best. So strange, to think it was then; now the boys are here, burbling and cooing as I write, squirming out of their swaddles as they are wont to do. God, I love these boys. (BTW: newborns are really loud, they make all sorts of squeaks and squeals, creaky door hingey sounds. Just thought you might want to know if you are waiting on your first. Babies are weird but so very cool.) I would recommend that if you are so inclined you keep a bit of a journal for yourself, I am finding it fascinating to reflect on. Plus, the writing is much more coherent than my sleep-deprived brain could conjure up at this time. Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Post on some knit action to come…someday. Guess I should change the name to Mamie Feeds/Burps/Wipes/Pumps Bits. Ha.

Role play

We all play roles in life; there are the conventional ones like sister, daughter, employee, and wife. These are roles I have had in my life, but it all changed drastically in the past year. The year 2006 brought a lot of unique experiences that have spilled over into 2007 and I would like to reflect on them.

When we decided to try in August it was a decision that was a long time coming, one I was terrified and alternately excited about. I had changed jobs in anticipation of success at impregnation, but basically my last day of work coincided with my first day of pregnancy. People who know me would not be surprised as my personality has a bit of dictatorship to it. One of my roles that family teases about is my role as ‘General” in a family of 10. I’m ‘that’ one, the Organizer, and the slightly manic, occasionally way too controlling one. It is a bit of a joke, but my family loves me and has yet to reject me.

That role changed when I was put on bedrest at 24 weeks, now my role was ‘invalid’. Don’t get me wrong, I was not incapable of action, it just had to be from bed. Right before the bedrest I was doing yoga 3-4 times a week, walking 3 miles a day with Meesh, managing the house, working a few hours a week. Then, bam!, nothing. Walking to the kitchen set off contraction, peeing did, moving did. The panic crept a bit, but I used meditation and hyponosis to manage. The one role that did not resurface during this time was my Panic Disorder side, for which I will be eternally grateful. I had received a bit of meds in the past to help control it (in 2003) and was really determined to not let it back into my life. I am proud of my success and wanted to share that little bit, especially for those of you that overestimate my capabilities because I always smile and laugh. But the role of ‘invalid’ was eased by excellent support and lasted 12 weeks of my life, 12 weeks I will never forget. That time is recorded in my private journal and on this blog a bit, the gnarly parts edited so as to not scare other moms-to-be.

That role ended April 24, 2007 around 1 p.m. when Dr. Tam told me we could go into surgery that night. It was so scary and also such a relief. The last week of pregnancy was marked by constant contractions, instructions to go to hospital once they hit 10 an hour, meds to stop it, discharge home, and repeat 2 days later. My body was falling apart, my spirit was faltering. Doc wanted 37 weeks but it was truly impossible. So, in we went. And out they came. Some day I will write about their birth, probably not here as it is a hazy, somewhat terrible memory at this point. Being in the medical field makes me suffer the administration of any medical procedure with too much knowledge and abject terror. But we did it, Tim and I got through it and that is really all that counts.

And then the role I most want to talk about, even though there is no way to convey it. Some roles come gradually…college graduate, adult, or friend. Mother, this does not. It slams into you, it crashes onto you and you cannot imagine another life, the one you had before, the one where they were not here. The role of pregnant woman/mom-to-be comes along gradually; sure, your body changes, but these happen with a slow unfolding, stretching, growing. Not so Mother…it is an irrevocable change and you know you would never relinquish this role, never let anyone take it, touch it, challenge it. The fierceness of it with the love that flows out is soothing at times, bewildering at others, so you just ride it. Waking up with torpedo tits the day your milk comes in...winch, take a photo and try to soothe ‘em in the shower. Dipe filled right after you wrestled the crazy bendy feet into the sock…yes, mom, you have to change it. And it is okay, because then you pick one up, put their cheek to your lips and feel…feel it. Feel it all. And you cannot speak, you can only feel.
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I will write more, some about Tim, the man that in the space of 2 minutes became father to two and in a space of 10 hours after their birth had already fed, changed a myconium diaper, and looked at his wife’s c-section incision without barfing. He deserves his own post. I will say I feel like I have fallen in love again, our stay at Huntington Memorial Hospital was like a honeymoon; Tim likened it to a Vegas trip with babies as the jackpot. If you deliver here, you will be so very, very happy. All the staff and docs are amazing and they have room service, and they care so much,and they make a bed for Dad and bring extra towels for him so he can shower too, and I felt as if they cherished our babies as we did. Use them if you can.

My mind is petering out; my beans are stirring for feeds, my Mother Role calls. I could not be happier.

They are Here!

Pounds gained during pregnancy : 37

Weeks of total bedrest: 12

Uterus measurement (pubis-fundus) : 43 cm

Combined baby weight : 11 #

Owen Alexander

&
Mason James :

Priceless

They arrives safely and happy on April 24, 2007 @ 1116 and 1117 via C-section.
Happy and healthy, able to come home from hospital with Mama and Papa.
Falling in love every minute, times two, is an unbelievable experience.

Not one thing I knit fits them. Not one. Oh well, I will just have to knit for myself now. Haha.

We have more pictures up here and hope to just keep adding until they fit in their handmade knitties. Thanks to the folks out there that sent their thoughts and prayers our way...it resulted in our joyful additions.