They call it the terrible twos for a reason. However, I don't recall Rylee and Reagan being so obnoxious. Madison and Jordan have found that "louder" gets results. Their tantrums even start bothering their siblings, who up to this point, I was sure were immune. Rylee will put her hands over her ears and inform them that they are being too loud. I was thinking tonight that it would be great if they came with a mute feature. I might be somewhere close to sane, if that were the case.
Some new words have emerged in the twins vocabulary. I don't know what they mean. That is probably part of the problem. "Tee!" is the one that comes to mind. Sometimes it means tea, as in iced tea. Other times it is used at full volume while pointing at any number of objects, shoes, doors, and light switches, among others. Kari and I think that it may be an attempt at the word "please." They sure do say it loudly though.
I have been trying to decide lately if we are lucky or unlucky. Standing back and looking at my life, I would have to say lucky. However, the last several years have been...trying, for lack of a better word. I look at all we went through with our twins. We ended up in a car accident on the way to the hospital to save their little lives, we were told that, most likely, neither of them would live, but they did. We were told that if they did live they would have serious health/development issues, but they haven't. On that count I would have to say lucky. I guess on most issues, as long as everyone is still alive, you could say "Well, it could have been worse." At any rate I feel like Murphy's law applies to us more often than not.
Most recently I took my truck in to be serviced because the check engine light was on. It turns out that it needed a new fuel injector pump, a $1200 part, among other things. The same pump that I spent thousands of dollars on just two years ago (I won't bore you with the details). So after $3400 I am driving home and the check engine light comes back on.
I am not even surprised at this point, I almost expect it. Kari just got over surgery to correct an abdominal hernia. And in the equivalent of a check engine light, her hernia has started to pop back out again. But that isn't the worst of it. On top of her stressing about having to have surgery again and another month of recovery, while trying to look after four kids under five years old, her doctor is telling her to just live with it.
She went in and told him that she was having the same sensation of "something popping out" except it was worse now. He felt around her stomach for 30 seconds and told her that he didn't think she had a hernia. She was incredulous and told him so. He told her that if she could make it pop out, then maybe he could tell what it was. He said "If it is a hernia, it will get worse, if it pops out and you can come show it to me. I think I would have seen it on the MRI if it was a hernia so I am not going to order another one." And he sent her home in tears. I was so livid that I could have choked the guy. He could at least work on his bedside manner. So we are looking for a new doctor.
This has all been very distressing. But again I am wondering "lucky" or "unlucky." I know, it could ALWAYS be worse. She doesn't have anything terribly life threatening, unless it become strangulated, in which case it would be very life threatening. But it isn't like they have told her to get her affairs in order, so it could be worse.
At any rate, health issues weigh on me heavily, with me being gone for days at a time. Even if there were not kids involved, I worry about my wife. She has low blood sugar, which on occasion has been incapacitating. She recently has had a migraine (that the doctor assures us was not a migraine, but doesn't know what it was) that was incapacitating and slurred her speech. She has a hernia (that the doctor says isn't a hernia and doesn't know what it is, even thought she just had hernia surgery for the same symptoms) which could be incapacitating and life threatening. I find it all quite alot to worry about. Not to mention the fairly bleak financial situation. So there...when is this going to be better?
Thanks for listening to me vent.
The latest difficulty has been Rylee's mastery of passive aggression. Example:
All four girls are seated at the kitchen table. I use the term seated very loosely. Rylee sits with her feet up on the chair in a cannonball position. Reagan leans on the table with her elbows supporting most of her weight, and her favorite plush toys snuggled under her chin. Madison is standing, while Jordan kneels. Both are pounding on the table with the palms of their hands and shrieking at the top of their lungs.
Dinner has just been served and there is a moment of quiet while I am dishing up a plate for myself. Rylee pipes up "Water! I want my water right there by Mommy's computer." She is referring to a sippy cup perched on the counter.
"Okay, go get it." I said. I had felt like the proverbial chicken with no head while fixing dinner and minding our loud, whiny spawn. And I was glad that she wanted something that was within her ability to get for herself.
"No. I not going to get it." She said, looking somewhere between hurt and defiant.
"Okay, don't get it." I said, feeling annoyed.
"I want water." She continued.
"I want you to get down and get it. I am not your personal servant." I replied.
She stared at me, not moving. I was really starting to lose my patients.
"Get down... and get your water." I said, a little more forcefully. She complied. She got the cup down and then sat on the floor, moping.
"Now, go get in your chair and eat your dinner, please." I said. She, very slowly, climbed back into her chair, set her cup down, and stuck out her bottom lip.
"Eat your dinner." I siad.
"I'm sad." She said.
I bent down next to her. "I am losing my patients, Rylee. Please don't give me attitude. Okay?" I said. She just looked at me.
After about five more minutes of her sulking I laid down the ultimatum.
"Rylee, if you don't eat your dinner and lose the attitude you are going straight to bed. Do you understand?" I said.
Needless to say, within ten minutes she was in bed screaming her head off.
So I am wondering if we are born with the passive aggressive gene or is this a learned thing? She sure is good at it, which makes me think that it is an innate behavior. But, maybe some of it is learned too. Maybe we have caused it, as parents. She should probably give seminars to soldiers on how to resist when in captivity. I will suggest that to her when she gets a little older.
Sorry to anyone who might still be following this blog. I have been in a funk. I couldn't think of anything to write that was interesting and not sound like I was whining. However, this has kind of been my journal and I realize that if I don't write some of this down it will be lost forever. So...here are a few more things that I didn't want to forget.
Kari has a lot on her plate, to say the least. I was gone on this last trip for four complete days. I try to bid for trips that start late and get done before the kids go to bed, but that is not always a reality.
After a long day of crying, needy kids Kari was nearly at the end of her rope. Jordan was grasping her diaper and chanting "Poo poo, poo poo, poo poo, POO POO!"
"I just changer you... do you have pee pee?" Kari asked.
Jordan grasped the sides of her diaper and tried to pull them off again saying "Poooo poo."
"Ok, common I will change you." Kari said.
This has become an issue lately. Both Jordan and Madison insist on being changed all the time. Sometimes even when they are completely clean and dry. To appease them I sometimes will take off the dry diaper, open the drawer (like I am getting a new one) and put the same one back on the them. Those things are EXPENSIVE. They have not caught on yet but it won't be long. But that is not the point of this story.
As Kari, with Jordan in her arms and Madison starting to chant "Poo poo, poo poo.", walked to the changing table Rylee piped in.
"Mom, I want to ask you a question. (Pause)Mooooooom. I want to ask you a question."
"Rylee, I am changing Jordan's diaper. You will have to come in here if you want to talk to me. I can't hear what you are saying."
Kari finished with Jordan and started on Madison. Rylee appeared.
"Mom...I didn't hear your answer." she said.
"I said that I was changing diapers and if you wanted to talk to me, you should come in here."
"Oh."
"Soooo...What was your question?" Kari asked.
"Uhm, (a long pause) I don't know."
Bill Cosby may have been on to something when he said that all kids are brain damaged.
The other thing that Kari and I were talking about was the twins lack of patience. we where trying decide why they would continue to scream at us when we where working as fast as we could to accommodate them.
For instance when they want a cup of milk they will go to the fridge, stretch their arms up and say "Moi" which is about the same word they use for "more". Even as we are opening the fridge and pulling out the milk they are starting to go into a full on fit. Just barely getting their finger tips hooked over the top of the counter, they try to pull themselves up, launching into a screaming fit.
"I am getting it for you right now, be patient." I will say to them.
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaa" is generally the reply while they stamp their feet. It looks like they are doing the running man, but not quite as fluid.
When I asked Kari why she thought they were acting that way Kari said to me "Either they don't get it, they don't listen, or they don't care."
So much has happened since I posted last that I won't even try to conical it here. It has been a busy, stressful couple of months, but I resolve to post on here a little more just so I don't forget those little moments that make it all worthwhile.
I haven't posted much lately because I have been just a little to overwhelmed. I figured that once the twins habit of not breathing on occasion was behind us the stress level would go down. But it hasn't. All these girls that I live with are keeping me on my toes. Here is the latest.
Rylee, who has been having fevers up to 105 degrees for almost two months, has been to see a infectious disease specialist. He isn't sure what it is either. She just finished her second round of antibiotics and has been well for about a week and a half. The only thing that the doctor said that seems to make sense is a cyclical fever or "periodic fever syndrome." If this is the case we should expect her next fever to start about July 3rd. If that is the case, they can help her by giving her steroids. I hope that whatever it is that we would just be done with it. There is no more helpless feeling than holding your first born child while her shivering is bordering on convulsions and listening to her moan.
Reagan is still waiting for her appointment with the speech pathologist. Meanwhile her potty training, which I had considered nearly complete, has totally derailed. I don't know if she is frustrated with not being understood, or looking for more attention, or what... But I have given thought to putting her back in diapers.
Except for the teeth cutting, which seems to be lasting forever, the twins are doing great. They are talking much more and that is exciting to watch. I can't speak for Kari, but I still can't imagine them growing up. We still have not gotten over the whole emotional roller coaster that brought them into this world and I'm not sure that we ever will.
Kari gave us a scare the other day. I had just gotten home from a trip, called Kari to see if I needed to pick anything up on the way home. She told me that she had a bad headache. Those kids will do that to you, but I didn't think it was going to be that bad. She was pretty much incapacitated.
When I got home it was almost 8 p.m. and Rylee and Rea met me at the door with the dogs right behind them. We did the hugs and kisses and then I went to find my wife. I found her laying on the couch, covering her eyes. We didn't have much of a conversation. She was obviously in serious pain and she went to lay down in bed.
After I got the big girls fed and put to bed I went to check on Kari again. She was still covering her head, very sensitive to light and noise, and speaking seemed to be excruciating. I debated at that point whether to take her to the hospital. I had never seen her like this, but it sounded just like a migraine. I asked her if she wanted to go to the ER and I think she replied that she didn't care. I figured that some peace and quite and a good night sleep would have her cured by morning. So I kissed her on the head, closed the door, and hoped that she would be able to get to sleep soon.
The scary part was the next morning. I got up with the kids and was fixing them breakfast when Kari got up about 20 minutes later. I got her a cup of coffee and TRIED to talk to her. She couldn't get more than a word or two out at a time. Like she was trying to remember how to pronounce a really large word. We settled on broken English and hand signals, just like a trip to Europe, Right?
We got Kari to the Doctor that day. She was back to normal by the time we got to his office. He ordered up an MRI to check for strokes or an aneurysm. It didn't show anything, thank God. I am very relieved, however, the doctor did let us sweat all weekend before giving us the results, which really stunk.
So we don't know what was wrong with her.
On a more positive note, her hernia surgery went well. She had been putting it off and putting it off. I think once she is back on her feet she will be really glad that she had it done, but right now she is pretty miserable.
I did learn one very important lesson. If you are taking the kids upstairs to make sure that your wife has a quiet, peaceful environment to recover in, you should arrange some way for her to contact you if, for example, she was unable to get out of bed and had to urgently go to the bathroom.
Rylee has had a fever on an off for the last three weeks. Sometimes getting over 105 degrees. We are hoping that she just has a virus, but it seems odd for a couple of reasons:
1. She had a fever for a week, was better for almost two weeks, got the fever again for several days, went almost 48 hours with no fever, and now she has a fever again (104.6 degrees this morning.)
2. She has been out in public only once in all that time. So where did she get it?
3. None of the other kids have been sick.
4. She has no other symptoms. She is much less active when her fever spikes, but other than that she seems fine.
5. We are having to alternate between Motrin and Tylenol every three hours to keep the temp below 102.
I don't think of myself as a worry wart, but we are taking her back to the doctor tomorrow. It just seems strange. The only thing that we have found on the internet that matches those symptoms (other than a virus) is a urinary infection or Periodic Fever Syndrome (or something like that.) We aren't freaking out, but are becoming concerned.
Reagan -
I think she has become very frustrated with her speech issues. We have noticed that she talks much less now than she did just a month ago.
I don't know if it is related, but she has become much more rebellious and uncooperative. One moment she will be all smiles and the next she is down right hostile. Folding her arms, chin tucked down, no eye contact, refusing to even try to speak, running away and hiding. Is this normal? Kari says that she is a Gemini with a split personality.
Also she is having a MAJOR set back in the potty training. She was doing great and having almost no accidents. Now she often doesn't even try to get to the bathroom. I am wondering if she is using that to seek attention. I think we went through 10 pairs of panties the other day. It is very frustrating.
The twins are still cutting teeth and are pretty grouchy a majority of the day. Other than that they are doing really well.
Those of you with siblings can probably relate. Didn't it always seem that whatever it was that your brother or sister had, or was playing with, at any given moment was better than whatever you had? Apparently this is the way the twins feel.
I wasn't home so this is story has been reconstructed from interviews with the actual parties involved. I tried to interview the twins, but they just kept saying "That (they mean that, but it sounds like dat), daddy, kitty cat, good girl, and uh ooooh." So it is only based on interviews with Kari.
It had been a long day and Kari had finally gotten all the kids in bed. She poured herself a glass of wine and plopped down on the couch. She picked up the remote and scrolled through a list of recorded TV shows. After searching through all 104 recorded programs, that she has not had time to watch, she selected "House."
Before too long she heard noises from upstairs. She was thinking that it was Reagan. Reagan always comes downstairs, to go to the bathroom, about 30 minutes after we put her to bed. Kari sat there awhile expecting to see Reagan sneaking down the stairs at any moment. After several minutes and not seeing Rea's head bobbing down the stairs, but still hearing noises, she decided to investigate. She tip toed to the top of the stairs and paused. All the doors where closed, she waited for the next sound. She heard a bump from the twins room. She crept to the door and cracked it open. Madison was out of bed. Kari watched from the doorway, waiting to see what she was going to do. Madison walked over to Jordan's bed, lean over her sleeping sister, and yanked the binki out of Jordan's mouth. Jordan, shocked awake, began to cry. Madison removed the purple binki from herown mouth and attempted to ram it into Jordan's mouth, she then stuck the pink binki into her mouth, turned and with out another thought set off back across the room. Jordan, meanwhile, kept the new binki in her mouth and continued to cry. Madison crawled back into bed, turned her head toward the wall, drew her knees up under her, stuck her butt up in the air and suckled her pink binki contentedly.
Kari was more interested in quiet than justice and decided to console Jordan as opposed to upsetting Madison by taking away her ill gotten gains.
They say that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. Apparently I am a little thick headed or partially insane, because it seemed like a good idea to take the kids to the park by myself...again.
I got home at 6:30 this morning, after a red eye flight from Portland. I wasn't feeling too bad, so when Reagan crept out of her room I decided that I would just stay up with her. We sat on the couch and read stories for almost an hour before Rylee came down stairs and it was time to start breakfast. The twins were nice enough to snooze while Rylee helped me whip up some French toast. It was a pretty pleasant morning.
It didn't last, however. I tried to sneak off for a nap when the twins went down for theirs, but it didn't seem to last very long. I woke up to the twins screaming and they continued to be grouchy until I decided that we should all get out for a bit. Kari helped me get everyone dressed and I loaded the twins in the double stroller. Everything went well on the walk to the park. The twins were quite, sitting back and taking in the sights. Reagan pointed out every flower that lines our quite, suburban, street and Rylee tagged along engaging me in discussions ranging from BIG trees to little bugs.
When the park came into view the big girls sprinted the last hundred yards to the swings. I recall wishing that I had their energy. I unloaded the twins. Madison immediately began to cry and wrapped her arms around my knees. Jordan, on the other hand, headed straight for the swings. The swings turned out to be too hot to sit on, so I spent several minutes sitting on the swings to cool them off. It must have been funny to watch. Some man holding his kids back while he sits on each one of the swings.
After about six minutes of swinging contentedly (them swinging, not me) and sweating because the temperature was really starting to soar, Rylee got a wood chip in her shoe. Doesn't sound like a major dilemma, but it was a total catastrophe to her.
"Take your shoe off." I said, slowly. She shook her hands up and down and cried, making no attempt to remove her shoe.
"Just a minute. I will help you." I said. Trying not to sigh to loud.
I put the twins on the ground. They can't be trusted to hold on very long while unsupervised. This did not go over very well with them and they both began to cry. Madison, like a heavy weight boxer tying up his opponent, wrapped her arms around my legs again. It is a very effective move when you are seeking attention and Madison has it perfected. You have to untangle the youngster from your legs and step back quickly to avoid being snared again. Maybe I should get her into wrestling or maybe Jujitsu. Anyway, I left the twins squawking by the swing and moved over to Rylee, who was squawking by the jungle gym.
"Now, take your shoe off." I said again. This time she complied.
"Now, brush off your foot." I instructed. She did, but she brushed off her foot on the mulch, which cause more wood chips to stick to her foot. She burst into tears again.
"I can't do it." she wailed. So I brushed off her foot and replaced her shoe. She smiled, took one step, got more wood chips in her shoe and burst into tears again.
"Do you want to just take your shoes off?" I asked. Hoping.
"Noooo." She replied.
"Sigh." I brushed off the feet and put on her shoes again. Now it was all better.
I put the twins back on the swings and for another 6o seconds everyone was happy. Then Rylee came over, looked up at me and said. "I want a drink."
"Honey, there isn't anything to drink here."
"But, but, but, cause ... I'm firsty."
"Rylee, we will get you a drink when we go back to the house."
"I'm thirsty." she says with tears this time.
"Sigh...We will go home soon."
Then Madison began to cry, so I took her out of the swing, she cried even louder.
"Alright, that was quick...we are going home." I announced. I expected some form of protest from Reagan, who had been playing happily, but she bounced over and smiled.
I put Madison, still screaming, into the stroller and belted her in. Then had to sprint after Jordan who was running off at top speed. I wonder if she had a destination in mind, probably not. She submitted to being strapped in the stroller and we set off for home with Rylee and Madi on the verge of a mutual meltdown. It was at this point that I was really regretting walking with all four to the park instead of putting them in the car.
We had traveled about a block before Jordan joined the chorus of wailing. Reagan was still being a trooper, however, she insisted on either walking right in front of the stroller and stopping unexpectedly or lagging so far behind that we would have to stop and let her catch up.
"You are going too fast." Rylee informed me.
"Don't you want to get home and have a drink?" I asked.
"Too fast." She repeated. I slowed for about half a block and then picked up the pace again.
"Too fast, Dad."
"Come on Rylee, lets get home."
She just stopped and cried.
"Carry." She said.
"What?"
"Carry me."
"Sigh." She is getting pretty big to be carried very far and we still had a ways to go. I picked her up and we made it another block before Reagan started crying and wanted to be carried too. So I put Rylee down and picked up Reagan. Reagan stopped crying and Rylee started again.
It was a beautiful, cloudless, day and many people were outdoors. I noticed most were looking at us. Most were sympathetic, but amused, looks. On the last block I put Reagan down, while she is lighter than Rylee, she gets pretty heavy before too long. So we dragged down the home stretch with all four kids in tears. I had about had enough.
I wonder how long it will be before that seems like a good idea again.