Pain is for Suckers

This post is dedicated to Benanna who are expecting a Chaquita Benanna in October!

I didn't blog a lot about pregnancy. The first pregnancy was pre-StalkingDebo and the 2nd pregnancy was so weird with all the twins. I drafted a few posts but just couldn't finish anything.

For posterity, I'm going to post a few random stories from my pregnancies. Some things are just too weird or funny to be forgotten.

Twins have a greater chance of being born via C-section but if you spend 10 seconds on Google, you can find lots of ways to bring two babies into the world. Hospital, Birthing Center, Home Birth, Mountaintop labor, you can find it all. In my 1st pregnancy, Sasha was footling breach from about week 28. She was as spread out as much as possible taking up 2/3 of my belly while little Alex was tucked into a ball in the corner. It took MONTHS for him to extend his legs after he was born.

But by the time we needed to take a childbirth class, Nu and I weren't sure of my childbirth fate. I thought a C-section was likely but my Dr. didn't want to make any decisions until week 35. So we went though the motions and enrolled in a Labor Orientation class. We had a wonderful teacher who was so knowledgeable about how babies are born. They covered every part of labor--even C-sections--and provided info about newborn babies as well.

HOWEVER, we did not fit in very well with the rest of our classmates. Our first clue came within the first 10 minutes of class. Everyone went around the room and shared their goals for their childbirth. Goals? How about healthy babies? Isn't that the point of this whole drama? Apparently no. Some masochists actually think the goal of pregnancy is the childbirth experience. And their wives agree with them.

Some want to experience the PAIN, the SUFFERING, the INCONTINENCE and they don't want so much as an aspirin to get in their way. There were about 15 couples in our class and each went around the room sharing their goals:

natural
little intervention
simple
no meds!
breathing
granola
hippie
Preferably while singing "Kum Ba Ya"

When it was my turn, I wanted to say, "I don't want to feel anything. I
actually want an epidural right now." but I felt pressured and self-conscious of
my radical pain management ideas and muttered something like, "I want the least
traumatic experience possible."

At this point, I should say that this is America and everyone has a right to their own childbirth experience. Do I think women should be able to choose how they give birth? Absolutely. Do I understand chilbirth without meds? Not really.

So.

Nu and I continued to attend this class week after week learning important things about breathing and pushing and transition and placentas, etc. I think the class was most helpful for Nu. Not until you have your first pregnancy do you realize how little guys know about
how babies are made. At one point during the pregnancy, I briefly convinced him
that the baby's body parts were floating around independent of each other until
they popped onto the body like Mr. Potato Head.

But when we weren't learning about the birthing process, we were practicing breathing and talking about pain management. With a Frosty always in hand (love the Wendy's at the
hospital), I went through the motions just in case I had to give birth in a
stalled elevator or something. The best part was when we clipped clothespins to
our ears to simulate breathing through the pain. We just squealed "ouch! ouch!
ouch!" until stern looks from our classmates shamed us into taking them off.

We experiemented with a variety of birthing positions--the exercise
ball, pillows, leaning on a chair, etc. I determined that these exercises were
way too hard to do pregnant and usually ended sipping my frosty while leaning
against the back wall. Naoshi just kept txting on his phone while asking "guy"
questions:

Will the hospital TV have cable?

Do I (Nu) have to spend the night?

If you're getting an epidural, why do we have to learn about breathing?

Ew gross!!! Is that the baby's head!!???

Is it ok if I play soccer next Thursday?

If nothing else, Childbirth Class convinced me that "Traditional Methods" were not for me. As soon as allowed, I scheduled my appointment for a Friday in the OR and never looked back. Three years and two weeks later, we did it all again and it was even more fun the 2nd time.

December 2, 2005

December 12, 2008

Who's really the adult here?

Now that they are three, Alex and Sasha have a fairly good grasp of the English Language, a pretty good grip on important Japanese phrases, and the standard "Dora & Diego" vocabulary of . . .

Ayudame (help me)

Abajo (something involving Diego and him ever-swimming downward)

Vamanos (let's go)

Arriba (up or let's go--something usually said to motivate Boots)

. . . and some other words that cartoon children need to communicate with their animal friends.

Still, though, were are astounded by how quickly their vocabulary and syntax improves every day. Usually their impressive phrases are directed as imperial commands toward each other or us. Here are the latest:

A: That's not a whale, that's an ORCA. That's not a monkey, that's a LEMUR.

S: (At the store) Wait a second mommy. I really need to pick out a new book. Wouldn't it be nice if we bought a princess book?

A: Sasha, these pajamas are too tight. Let's take them off but not tell mommy and daddy [who are listening in the next room]

S: I WAS NOT TALKING TO YOU! I WAS TALKING TO ALEX!

A: I listened at school today! [teacher] said I listened very well! Yeah!! I did not bite anyone! Can I have a cookie?

S: Baba [grandma], I need you to buy me ballet stuff. So I can dance. And I need to go to dance class. Actually (long dramatic pause) my doll Lani would like to dance too.

A: Can my cow get boots for the snow? His feet will be cold.
[Side note: Cow is a disembodied Giraffe head attached to a ratty blanket. He has no appendages--feet or otherwise]

S and A: [Yelled at full volume at 7am] I'M AWAKE! I'M ALL DONE SLEEPING! I HAVE MY UNDIES ON!!!!!!! I WANT TO EAT BREAKFAST!!!! WAKE UP, DADDY!!!!!

A: [In response to a question like, "Where are your pants?" or "Did you drink the bubble soap?"] I have no 'deas. Nope. No 'deas.

In addition, Sasha has a bloodcurdling scream that drives us bananas. The noise she makes sounds like a Freight Train screeching to a halt and melts my brain. The kicker is that she uses it for the smallest of injustices. If Alex was to try on her pink sandals, if she can't get her princess dress on fast enough, if she has three crackers instead of four--she lets loose this unearthly noise. We now have a house rule that she gets timeout for this scream WITHOUT QUESTION unless she is, in fact, being eaten by a Killer Crocodile. In that case, we will hear her side first.

I do not like

Pimento cheese.

Little stick figure pictures of families stuck to the window of peoples' cars.

The Food Network or any other Cooking Show. More interesting channels include: The TV Guide Channel, Book TV, and the blank screen that says "You don't pay for this premium channel."

People doing things the hard way/long way/stupid way and then complain about how long, difficult and stupid their task was.

People who should be napping but instead are SCREAMING.

When the TIVO programming guide is wrong and it records the wrong show.

When I have to dig through the dirty laundry to find not-too-dirty pants for the kids to wear.

Political Pundits. So. Much. Yelling.

That the recycling people follow secret cardboard collection rules and take or leave my cardboard at the curb using a different mysterious criteria every week.

That my kids cannot come home from a playground without a pile of sand in each of their shoes.

That clean laundry doesn't fold itself on the floor of my bedroom.

That I always have essays to grade.

That Casey and Blake will someday eat solid food. The mess. The stains. The screaming between spoonfuls.

That I am going to have to diet and exercise a lot to lose the baby weight. Again.

That I can't stay awake to read an entire chapter of a book before bedtime.

That I can't keep my babies little forever.

Sigh.

You say it's your birthday . . .

It's not anybody's birthday at our house, but have been invited to some awesome throwdowns at various Bouncy-Gym-Zoo-Kid places this month. A&S LIVE for these parties. It's all they talk about for a week before and after. In fact, if your preschooler is planning a party and needs some extra guests to round out your numbers and liven up the crowd. CALL US. We will come and bring you a gift. And only the birthday child will be more enthusiastic than our children.

Here's some snippets of conversation Pre and Post Party today. Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Sasha: "Mama, is it the right day for Becca's party?"
Alex: "We're going to BOUNCE!!!! HIGH!!!!! [Jumps up and down for effect]"
S: "Wheeeeeee! I'm so excited!!!!! Will there be presents?"
Mom: "Yes, but this is Becca's special day. Remember, you already had a birthday party and Becca brought you presents. "
S: [Tears, scrunched red face] "But I want presents. It's MY birthday."
Mom: "No. It's Becca's. We are going to be happy for Becca or you are going to sit in the car while Alex bounces."
A: I'M GOING TO BOUNCE!!! AND RUN!!!!! AND BOUNCE!!!! [still jumping around the room]
S: "Noooooooo. I want presents. For my birthdaaaaayyyy!" [tears return]
Mom: [remarkably calm considering this is the 7th time this week we've had this conversation] "Sasha, can you keep it together and be happy for your friend? You need to be happy for her or wait in the car. Which do you want?"
A: "I'M GOING TO JUMP AND JUMP AND BOUNCE AND EAT CAKE! CAN I EAT CAKE?"
S: [sniffling and holding on by the thinnest of threads] "O. K. but at my birthday party I want presents. Princess presents. Pink Princess Presents. "
Mom: "Yes. In 10 months, you will get presents again."
A: "BOUNCY, BOUNCY, BOUNCE!!!!!!!!!! LETS GO BOUNCE RIGHT NOW!!!!!!

Random bits of Yama

We're very busy having a great time here in the land of Yama. Some recent highlights:

• Blake and Casey are smiling a lot--at us, at lights on their swing, and when they poop their pants.

• Sasha is deeply entrenched in the D1SNEY-PRINCESS-MARKETING-COMPLEX. Another mom might object to this completely transparent advertising strategy designed to increase corporate profits at the expense of her daughter's soul. I think it's adorable and love talking about all the princesses stickers, dresses, purses, and various other accessories she has or wishes she had. I've even found that I can use this branding hysteria to my advantage. If I want to convince her to do something against her will, I preface it with "pretty" or "princess." Like, "Don't you want to eat these Pretty Princess Green Beans?"

• On that note, Sasha wants to DANCE. She longs for dances classes and *pretty* dance dresses and shoes. Our current scheduling situation doesn't really allow for a regular class, but we're looking into some temporary summer options. She is likely to take a class with her brother, so we're trying to find some good gender-neutral camps. According to Nu , "Fairy Camp" is not an option.

• Alex and Sasha are signed up for Soccer this spring. We're looking forward to the family outings and hysterical stories about a bunch of preschoolers playing their first organized sport. While they both like playing Soccer with dad, Alex has shown the most interest so far. He has mastered the Dribble, the Drop Kick, the Header, the Heel Kick, the Fake, and the ridiculous dance Brazilian players do when they score a goal. Now if only he could use these skills while actually playing soccer . . .

• Nu and I are back at work and finding it to be . . . pretty good actually. Multi-tasking is the name of the game and we're finding creative ways to save time and still have adult social interactions. For those of you planning to have multiple multiples (as I'm sure MANY of you are), let us share some of our slightly shady but effective short-cuts:

1. We accept that we will be late to everything. Not that we were on time before, but not now we have a really good reason.
2. We eat mostly from our freezer or our pantry. We keep soda and beer in our produce drawers now. Again, it's not that we were organic vegans before kids, but now we don't even pretend to eat fresh food.
   
3. We do not change anyone's clothes unless they are smelly or visibly dirty.
   
4. Same rule from above applies to diapers.
5. Same applies to baths. Unless we're at Babas where she does it for us. :)
   
6. We invite our friends over after dinner to have fun at our house. Long live Club Nu!!!
   
7. We utilize DeboYama's hard-earned higher education to figure out how to get 4 kids and the groceries in a shoppinig cart at Target. It's pretty heavy to push, but it can be done.
   
8. We hold onto the kids' naps with a ninja-like-death-grip. Our sanity relies upon rested children and afternoon down-time. I will do everything short of tranquilizers to keep the big kids napping--or at least reading quietly on days they're not tired. So far, so good.
   

We'll post more pictures soon, but we're having trouble finding the time to take them! We MUST, MUST break out the video camera soon or B&C will grow up to think we kidnapped them as toddlers! Until we get it together, check out our Picasa Feed on the sidebar.

I believe

In God.

In Diet Coke.

That my kids will eat when they're hungry.

That TV can be good for you (or at least entertaining).

In reading Books.

In reading Magazines (from USWeekly to the Economist--anything in magazine form is interesting)

In spending time with my kids--together and separately

In spending time with Nu--with our kids, with our friends, and just us.

In gadgets.

That G00gle is systematically brainwashing me through it's awesome applications, and I don't care.

In junk food.

That junk food will make me fat, so I can't eat too much.

In marshmellow peeps.

That twittering is a form of advanced social discourse.

That most problems can be solved with a nap.

That TV presidents should listen to Jack Bauer the first time.

That organic food is not a priority because it's not as convenient as frozen and/or prepared food.

In the wonderful goodness that is Movie Theater Popcorn.

That my friends keep me sane.

That Lipstick Jungle was unfairly canceled.

My name is . . .

. . . Blake

Mommy calls me "Blakey Bear" and my big brother calls me "Bwake." I am the smallest of all the Yamas but have grand aspirations to someday grow out of Newborn Diapers (February is my month--I can FEEL it!).

My special gift is my Tried-and-True-Patented-Face-of-Heartbreaking-Pathetic-Sadness. When I stick out my lower lip, it is almost impossible for adults to resist my powers. Mommy has supplied many an extra meal to end my unbearable misery of being a little bit thirsty.

I am a great daytime sleeper and a mediocre nighttime sleeper. I love being swaddled and usually calm down fairly quickly after a meal.

My eyes are half of my face. When I'm awake, I look HYPER alert. Coupled with my old-man hairstyle, I am a chick magnet.

While in utero, I periodically stressed out my parents with wacky test results and measurements. After all that worry, it turns out that I was just a typical Yama--short with a big head and crazy hair. My parents thank God daily for my good health.

I am awesome at Tummy Time. I love practicing head-turning and leg kicking. I'm so good at it that I rolled off the ottoman onto the floor when I was about 3 weeks old. My parents were 12 inches away.

My family loves my Flipper noises. They say my squeaks and grunts sound quite Dolphin-like and think I have a promising career at Sea W0rld.

I am almost 7 weeks old.