It Isn't Really About the Cupcakes.

In honor of the girls' fifth birthday this week, I'm bringing cupcakes to school for them to share with their classmates.

• Today's cupcakes are not homemade. I'm loving my mess, Allison Nazarian style.
• Last year, said cupcakes were homemade.
• For their class Halloween party in October, they were also homemade.
• Despite this, I will not allow myself to feel guilty. It's stupid.
• The kids won't even know the freakin' difference.
• If spending a few bucks at a local bakery makes my life easier, so be it.
• I'm a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom), and I don't get paid, but I sure work a helluva lot.
• The last month has been insanely busy. Homemade cupcakes aren't worth my sanity.
• This God-forsaken cupcake business? I'm so over it.

Besides, like Sara over at Saving For Someday said yesterday? I don't want to set the bar too high for the other moms by bringing homemade cupcakes.

How are you shedding the need to be perfect today?

Buy Local From the Little Shop on the Corner : The Reading Reptile

I love Amazon.com as much as the next gal, but when it comes to quality customer service, attention to detail, and small businesses dedicated to differentiating themselves, I'll happily shop locally. Over the weekend, we did just that by celebrating the girls' fifth birthday at a nearby bookstore called "The Reading Reptile."  While talking with one of the other moms, we agreed it reminds us of the Little Shop on the Corner from the Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks movie "You've Got Mail." Deb, the owner, was in charge of the "Arty Party." Uber-organized and efficient, she'd memorized all the kids' names within a matter of minutes. She read them stories (all sat and listened intently), made clay with them, and then walked everyone through three cool art projects. We finished up with cupcakes the kids got to decorate. A wonderful time was had by all, and it was definitely a memorable morning for Abby & Izzy!

This place is what I imagine Heaven might be like, where characters from mine and my children's best-loved books come alive in paper-mache all over the place (all made by Deb, the crafty and talented owner!):

Olivia the Pig, one of our favorites

Max, King of the Wild Things!

Frog and Toad

We adore Eloise!

 Go Dog, Go!

Lily's Purple Plastic Purse

So my message to you today and this holiday season (and beyond)?

Shop locally.

Go where everybody knows your name (kinda like that theme song from "Cheers").

I don't want to lose places like Reading Reptile that make my city what it is---unique and amazing.

What is your "Little Shop on the Corner?" Do you support your local merchants?



Home Alone Staring at Lots of Leftover Junk Food is Never a Good Thing, or Why My Ass is Big

The remnants of the girls' birthday cake are calling my name from the fridge. I'm home alone and I don't know how much longer I can hold out. That sweet, pillowy frosting. Oh no. The orgasmic chocolate cream filling in the middle. Oh my! The soft cake melting in my mouth like butta. Hellllllo, lover! It's rather unfortunate for my thighs that the little hooligans girls are more interested in their new loot than the leftover cake. It's pure gluttony. I can't help myself, I can't stop, aaaaack! ChompSlurpGulpSmack! And no amount of Jazzercise is going to cancel out the amount of cake I just consumed. Seriously, what is it with me & food? Why can't I be one of those girls who "forgets" to eat? Alas, it is just not meant to be. My love affair with food (and dessert in particular) is long and laced with sugar.

Abby & Izzy had a blast at their party. They fawned all over Funky Mama, who has been the bee's knees around here for several years now. They chattered so much Krista (Funky Mama's real first name) could barely get a word in edgewise. But Krista is a young mom herself, so she's not only used to it-- she thrives on it-- and kids are just naturally drawn to her. She is the cutest little thing I've ever seen and I couldn't have chosen a more positive & perfect role model for my kiddos!

There were a few kids who started out shy, but by the end everyone had warmed up and our basement became party central.

Now here's the rub. Funky Mama is releasing a new album in February. She will use some mommy blogs (a-hem, that would be someone like moi) to help get the word out. I'm trying not to get too excited, but she mentioned doing some giveaways via BlogLand. I will most definitely keep you posted because if you have young kiddos, you'll want to be in on this. So to get ready I want you to:

1.) Go check out Funky Mama's blog. Follow her.

2.) Go check out her site. Listen to clips of the songs. Heck, order a cd (they are $12 and so worth it) for yourself or for someone else as a gift!

3.) Become a Funky Mama Fan on Facebook.

That is all for now. More Hanukkah-related inspiration to come this week!

What's so special about today? It's my girls' birthday! And do you wanna see my boggy uterus?

Happy Birthday, Abby & Izzy!

This is our very first photo of the girls. It's a view of them as blastocysts under a microscope. This is perhaps the only time in our lives we haven't been able to tell them apart. This photo was taken right before I officially conceived my daughters, although technically speaking they were conceived in a Petri dish in the lab. They are my little miracles.

I have PCOS, or Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. This basically means I don't ovulate, and therefore it was impossible for me to get pregnant without the assistance of a reproductive endocrinologist. You may recall reading about some of what I went through to get pregnant (my first TMI Thursday post: read it here) . All I ever wanted to be in life was a mother. I had no idea it would be so difficult. Most people don't realize how many planets have to properly align in order to get pregnant! Once we began having trouble I decided Clomid would be my miracle drug. But no. Clomid was a cake walk compared to the other stuff I had to resort to. I never imagined I'd become a pro at giving myself injections in the stomach thrice daily. Or that I'd never get over the pain of the intramuscular injections Hubs had to give me with a needle as long as my pinky finger.

I remember this day so clearly. It was cold in the examination room. My teeth were chattering. Hubs and my mom were there with me. I couldn't stop crying. Our day had finally come. This was our 2nd round of IVF (in-vitro fertilization) and it was heavy with anticipation. I'd decided I couldn't handle another round, so if this didn't work, our plan was to start talking about adoption. This photo was taken as my doctor was loading our embryos up into a catheter. I'd had Valium to relax me, but when you're sharing a room with your potential babies, there is no being calm. They are tangible. They are right there. They are on the verge of becoming your dream fully realized. Yet they might not survive. And there's absolutely nothing you can do because you have no control over any of it.

I remember Dr. B looking at the screen with us and saying quietly, "These look really good. I'm thinking twins." The tears doubled. I was scared to hope, and I almost wish she wouldn't have said it because I heard her saying it over and over in my head.

I started bleeding 7 days post transfer (7 days after they put the embryos into my uterus). I became hysterical and called my nurse. Although it was too early, she agreed to let me come in for my blood test the following day. I needed closure, I wanted to move on and accept that this IVF had failed, too.

I couldn't wait for labs, so I took the last home pregnancy test I had. The faintest second line showed up. I started to hope. But I didn't understand why I was bleeding.

I went in to the lab after lying awake all night. Numbly watched the tech draw my blood. I couldn't speak. I couldn't look at anyone. I resented the wall of photos of everyone else's babies the clinic had helped to create/conceive.

Two long hours later I got the call that I was indeed pregnant. The bleeding was due to low progesterone, which simply meant more injections for me for a while. We were excited, but nervous. We didn't know if it would stick.

Then, six weeks (and lots of nausea and exhaustion) later, this:

Two sacs. Two fetal poles. I was pregnant with twins!

Approximately 33 weeks later, I looked like a beached whale:

On December 7-8, 2005, we had a large snow storm. Hubs took me out to lunch on December 8, where I chowed down on the best grilled cheese and fries I'd ever had. That meal has since been affectionately referred to as "The Labor Lunch," because strong contractions set in that evening. I was in active labor although I didn't know it. The following morning, December 9, I went in for a regularly scheduled non-stress test. I was 34 weeks pregnant. The nurses thought I looked a little funny in the waiting area, so they whisked me straight to the back. They checked me. I was 4 cm dilated and fully effaced. My doctor came in and checked and said, "Baby A's head is right there!" I couldn't believe it! They scheduled my C-section for 1:00 p.m., which gave Hubs enough time to go home, get my overnight bag and shave the beard he'd been growing for the last two months.

At 1:46 p.m., Abigail Jane was born:

And at 1:47, her twin sister, Isabel Grace was born:

Mommy & Abby the next day

Abby is on the left, Izzy is on the right. They had feeding tubes b/c they weren't very interested in eating (common for preemies)

The girls in Daddy's arms. Izzy is on the left, Abby is on the right.

Shortly after their birth, my aunt gave me a Celine Dion cd. Now, I know what you're thinking (because I was, too). But I heard this one song and that was it for me. I played it over and over and over again. And cried every time. I listened to it on all the drives back and forth to the NICU over the next 3 weeks. And even after that. It is exactly how I feel.

"Miracle" by Celine Dion

You're my life's one miracle

Everything I've done that's good
And you break my heart with tenderness
And I confess it's true
I never knew a love like this 'til you

 You're the reason I was born
Now I finally know for sure
And I'm overwhelmed with happiness
So blessed to hold you close
The one that I love most
Though the future has so much for you in store
Who could ever love you more

The nearest thing to heaven
You're my angel from above
Only God creates such perfect love

 When you smile at me I cry
And to save your life I'd die
With a romance that is pure in heart
You are my dearest part
Whatever it requires
I live for your desires
Forget my own, your needs will come before
Who could ever love you more

There is nothing you could ever do
To make me stop loving you
And every breath I take
Is always for your sake
You sleep inside my dreams
And know for sure
Who could ever love you more

I am so lucky to be their mama. I hope I'm not scarring them for life. There are long days when I wish for peace and quiet. And then I have a flash of anger at myself because of how quickly I've forgotten how desperately I wanted them. How quiet it would be at home without them. And how empty my heart would be.
 
I am so, so lucky.
 
Thank you for taking this walk down memory lane with me.
 
The girls today (recently):

Izzy is on the left and Abby is on the right.

p.s. if you really want to see pics of my boggy uterus, email me. And no, I'm not kidding!

Birthdays and old photos

Me, my brother Mark, Jennifer M., Elizabeth T., and Jessica M.

Mom lighting the candles on my cake.

That's me with the balloon...

Hurricane Katrina, that nasty bitch, stole so much from my family. Hubby and I are lucky because we had already moved away from New Orleans by that time, but my parents and my brothers suffered greatly (but that is another post I'm working on).

It's never been a secret that my mom prized old photos above most everything else, and each time she evacuated, she loaded up the trunk of her car with as many albums as she could cram in. When Hubs and I moved to Kansas City, she gifted me with several new albums which contained many of her old photos of my childhood. I am so very grateful to have these.

The photos above are from my seventh birthday, which almost seems like it was yesterday. I am posting these because I was just telling my daughters how amazing their GiGi (my mom) is. She baked all of our birthday cakes herself. She had this amazing cake book with photographs of cakes made to look like all sorts of cool things, including a school bus she made for my brother Mark's birthday one year (sadly I do not have this photograph to share). It had strips of Wrigley's Doublemint gum cut in half to make the windshield and windows, thin ropes of black licorice for the windshield wipers, Oreos for the wheels, and Red Hots for the taillights. I chose a watermelon cake for my seventh birthday, as you can see here. I invited three close friends to go swimming and sleep over. I got a Cabbage Patch Kid that year, which I promptly named "Holly."

Birthdays are exciting for me because my parents helped make them so much fun while we were growing up. I hope to do the same for my daughters. And maybe, just maybe, I can get more creative with the cake baking!!