Weekends look a little different with toddlers in the house. For example, sleeping in means 7:30, instead of 5:00. It looks a little bit like this:
We are currently watching Frozen for about the 100th time:
Can I just say that I’m pretty sure Olaf is one of my favorite cartoon characters ever?
I also got to have a fairy draw pictures while sitting in my lap:
And it’s not even nap time yet…
So what are you up to this weekend?
I have the honor of writing a monthly piece for TwinTalks.com. The opportunity has been huge for me, as I love writing, and getting to write about my girls is just fantastic. This past month, however, my piece took a very personal turn. When suggesting topics for the month, I brought up how having twins has and is changing the way I view my body. My editor loved the idea, and that became my topic.
I knew in discussing the ways that twins changing my body has changed my view of my body, I would have to publicly delve into my eating disorder. Yeah, I’m one of those people. I was very sick for a very long time, sometimes physically, sometimes mentally, sometimes both at the same time. I’ve been in recovery now for about 10 years, and there have been many things that have helped me along the way and moved me toward a healthier reality, but none in quite as powerful a way as having Z and R has. I won’t go too much into all that right now, since my other article isn’t published yet. Suffice it to say, they are my number one motivation to stay healthy.
What really got me was the nerves though. As I sat that Saturday night, writing out all my thoughts, editing, and finally clicking ‘submit’, I was practically shaking from nerves. I’ve never talked about this in such a public way. Or really, much at all. Once that piece is published, a pretty large audience is going to know about my struggles. A lot of people might judge. People I know personally who follow my posts may feel differently about me. But a lot of people may read my story and realize that their pasts can make them stronger, and that they can become the healthy, happy role models that their children need. They may be encouraged and reminded that the past is the past and that they can continue to move forward and heal. They may realize that they’re not alone when the physical and mental strain of pregnancy and childbirth is daily altering their body, barely giving them the time they need to become familiar with their new selves before changing yet again. So I went ahead and wrote.
My daughters are my motivation every day. I want to be the role model that they need, and that keeps me going every day.
So soon, everyone will know a little more about my past. Not everyone may like it, but it is what it is. I just hope and pray that it may be able to help someone else a little further along their path of healing and health.
Z has recently learned about things being cute. It all started with the tiny rocks she collected at Meemaw’s house. Then her stuffed dog(DogDog)’s nose. These are the things that inspire Z to coo, “It’s so cuuuute!”.
Then, as I was getting my jacket on to leave for church on Easter morning, Z found me in the kitchen and smiled up at me, “Mommy, you so cuuuute!”. It melted my heart and cracked me up at the same time.
My kid thinks I’m cute! In her book, I’m right up there with her tiny rocks and DogDog. I’ll take it!
Just after the new year, the girls quite taking bottles cold turkey. One day, they just decided they were done. They still nurse when they’re with me, but their need for mama milk when I’m away has passed. I was however, left with a freezer full of stored milk that I hated to see go to waste. I was unable to donate it to a milk bank, as it was all pumped after Z and R turned one, so I held on to it and kept and ear out for local mamas in need.
Little by little, my milk stash went out to mamas and babies in need of a little extra help. It’s been such a blessing to be able to help. From the beginning, I had an epic over supply of milk (contrary to what many would have you believe, it actually a fairly common “problem” among moms of multiples), so I pumped and stashed away gallons of milk in my freezer. It was a wonderful thing to be able to have that resource for my girls. When the time came that they were ready to leave that need behind, my first thought was to pay it forward to other moms who were struggling to pump enough for their little ones.
Today was a bittersweet day for me though. This morning, I met up at a local children’s store to deliver the last 26 oz. of milk from my freezer. I was so happy to be able to help that sweet mom and baby, but it was also the closing of a chapter for me. I am no longer a pumping mom. My babies are toddlers, and no longer require me to keep a stash of milk for them. That part of their lives and mine has passed. As grateful as I am to be done (because pumping is hard work!), and to have been able to share my milk with those in need, it was still with a tiny pang of sadness and nostalgia that I handed over that last bag of milk today.
Pumping milk for my girls and for sharing has been such a sweet blessing in my life, and I am deeply grateful to have had this experience it. I am happy and excited to move forward, but I will most certainly miss this sweet experience.