Do you guys have an amazon wishlist? I do. In fact, I have a large(58 items) amazon wishlist. Most of them are books, but I also have a snow blower and an eye shadow pallet on there, so it's pretty random.
My allergies are kicking my trash this year. I swear, as soon as I turned 25 (last Sunday!) my body started falling apart. I'll spare you from all the terrible details, but it hasn't been pretty and poor Josh has heard me complain about this and that around the clock.
I finally got The Sound of Music soundtrack on my phone. I think our car rides just got 100% more awesome.
Can I tell you a secret? I don't think I like two year olds very much. I know, I know, but before you throw the harpoons my way, here me out. Two year olds are HARD. Independent, terrible communication skills, manic behavior all waking hours, zero sense of personal boundaries (with each other mostly. They are always fighting!), zero interest in any of their toys, art supplies, or books and they are constantly sticky. This isn't to say I don't like my children, BUT I liked their behavior much, much better on August 8th than I did on August 9th. I recently talked to a friend who has a three year old and she shared similar sentiments. She hates two year olds BUT she loves 3 year olds. I've heard a lot of people say that 3 is worse than 2, but I don't believe them. Have they had a 2 year old? Have they had TWO 2 year olds? Have they had MY two 2 year olds? That's what I thought.
I got the book, Statistics for Dummies in the mail the other day. I know I'm a statistic dummy because I got an F the last time I took the class. A literal, you suck at life, F. Maybe the second time around will be better?
Josh bought me a bike for my birthday. Her name is Carol and she's the prettiest bike. However, I think she's missing two things. A basket and a bell. It's normal for a grown woman to have a bell on her bike, right? I hope so because I added one to my amazon wishlist.
I'm in the market for some new blogs to read. I mostly like pretty pictures and thoughtful posts. What are you people reading?
We've been drinking a lot of smoothies lately. Today I made an exceptionally delicious one. Some spinach, strawberries, a banana, cucumber, lots of frozen berries, ground flaxseeds and some probiotic yogurt drink stuff. I love that I can get my girls to eat whatever I want if it's in smoothie form.
My children have been napping for three hours. THREE whole hours. However, somebody just started kicking their door, so I guess this is where I leave you.
It seems cliche to say "what a week!" but seriously... what a week (plus some)!
I was offered and accepted a job that I'm really excited about (more details to come).
We've been sick the entire week.
The girls have been incredibly grumpy. Over tired, over snotty, overly bratty. Seriously, all they've done is fight and I've cried about it basically every day since my last post.
Speaking of the last post...potty training? I don't want to talk about it.
We went to a little farm and road ponies.
We had an Easter Egg Hunt with the cousins at Grandma and Grandpa's.
The girls grew out of all their winter clothes. Coats, jackets, long sleeve shirts were instantly all too short. I bought a pair of jacket for next fall (the ones seen in every picture below) and we have a ton of short sleeve shirts that I bought for the summer, but that's it. Ain't no way I was buying a bunch more wintery stuff (why do clerance racks have to be SO picked over and why does every little girl item have "DIVA" or "PRINCESS" on it?) So yeah, there's your explanation of them only having one jacket each.
We skipped out on the neighborhood Easter Egg Hunt because we had tantrum after tantrum that morning (me included), but ended up doing one of our own after the girls' nap.
I've been trying to wake up before the girls wake up each morning and I've been starting my day off like a normal adult. You know, turning on the news, eating a bowl of cereal uninterrupted. It's amazing how much better I feel not waking up to two year olds screaming and kicking the door.
We went to Logan a few days ago to show my brother-in-law around USU's campus. Good crap, people. I love that place. Being on campus made me SO homesick and I just love that little town. If Josh could find a job up there and if I could convince a few people to move up there with me, I'd be gone tomorrow. That place will always feel like home to me.
My birthday falls on Easter this year. You wanna know what else falls on that day? The Walking Dead Season finale. Happy Birthday to me! Except I'm having this inner battle with it. I mean, it's Easter. The most religious holiday of the year (at least in my opinion) so to mix that with zombies? When I was thinking about it, I had to laugh as I recalled Herschel's line of "Jesus promised he'd raise the dead...I just thought he had something a little different in mind." Either way, I'm SUPER excited to watch it and am at the edge of my seat for Andrea...
And what's a post without some pictures?
Yep, that most definitely is a wood chip stuck in Sophie's snot.
Now I just have to figure out what to stuff their Easter baskets with that isn't candy.
I don't understand Elf on the Shelf. I mean, I 'get' what it is, but I do not like it. I know this will probably offend many, but that thing creeps the crap out of me! And those things I keep seeing on pinterest that I people are doing with it? Creeeeeeepy. I hate dolls, mannequins and all things fake human, so the idea of a creepy little elf watching over me kind of sends me over the edge. I love Christmas more than most things in this world, but I refuse to let that little bug eyed elf be apart of my life. Moving on...
I don't know what my problem is, but I've been SO grumpy lately! I don't know if it's because we haven't felt super awesome the past two weeks, or the fact that my girls have been nightmare-ish (which probably is directly correlated to our physical state), or what, but I've been a monster to everyone around me. I have absolutely no patience for my girls, people on the road, people in stores, people on tv, and just people in general. Really, almost everyone and everything has been annoying me lately.
On a positive note... Who's excited that Carol is alive?!?! You know, The Walking Dead? I literally clapped when she was found near death in that closet because I like her. She survived an abusive husband and this far into the zombie apocalypse. She's hardcore.
Speaking of television, Breaking Amish anyone? I had high hopes for it because I have a slight obsession with The Amish, but that show was disappointing. Too much drama, drinking, surprise marriages and babies and it was just uncomfortable. Not as uncomfortable as the Meet the Hutterites though...
A week or so ago, I got the Olay Pro X. You. Guys. It's changed my life. I feel like it would take an entire blog post to talk about my crappy skin, but just know that this thing is amazing. I have the driest skin known to man and this thing buffs it all off. It cleans my face like nothing else and I simply adore it. I've wanted the Clarisonic for a while now, but the $100+ price tag was holding me back. The Olay one was only $20 on amazon and I really can't say enough good things about it. It is my new best friend.
I think I'm going to stop stressing over potty training. I'm just not sure it's worth a fight and really, there's nothing pushing me to do it other than the idea that everyone else is doing it. Eh, it'll happen when it happens.
I'm a little concerned because twins seem to be taking over the world. I've been shopping the last two days now and each day I've seen at least two other sets besides my girls. Most of them were easily spotted because of the two infant car seats in a double stroller. I swear, I can spot those things faster than anyone and I see them ALL THE TIME. I just want to hug those women and tell them that it's ok if they don't breastfeed or if they can't tell their kids apart, or if they hate when weirdos approach them and ask them questions about their fertility or they tell you about every set of twin they know or if you cry themselves to sleep because you're so overwhelmed. Having multiples is hard and there really is a comradery among the parents, so I have a hard time not running up to everyone I see and assuming we're going to be best friends.
Practically our entire Christmas is coming from Amazon. I'm pretty sure we're expecting at least 5 packages this week. I really, really hope we can restrain ourselves and wait to open our gifts until Christmas.
And speaking of Christmas gifts... I have NO idea what to get Josh! I've gotten him a few things, but nothing super awesome. He apparently got me a bigger ticket item and he says it's something that I casually mentioned that I want. I have NO clue what it is and I'm freaking out a little because I feel like I need to get him something equally awesome. I'm stumped though. I have no idea what to get him.
I think I need to do better at "me time". I'm not quite sure what that is exactly and I think I'm failing. The girls nap/have quiet time for about 2 hours each day and it's always a debate on what I should do. Laundry? Start dinner? Catch up on recorded tv? Pinterest? Shower? I just never know. I'm not very good at this mothering balancing act and I suspect that it's kind of all coming to a peak and it's one of the reason behind my recent grumpiness.
Sometimes I wish you could go to a MAC counter without a zillion girls jumping down your throat. Sometimes I just want to look and sometimes there's something that I want, but it's definitely not a need. And sometimes I try to weed down my purchases to needs and not wants, so I decide to not go to the MAC counter at all, but then I get sad because I didn't even play with the item that I want.
And sometimes it's really late at night and the girls and I are home alone and I'm on the computer typing a blog post and I swear I hear a tap on our back door, so then I grab a butcher's knife, debate if I should call my neighbors or not, ultimately decide not to, shut everything off and go to bed.
These random, bullet-ed posts have really taken spot on this blog of mine. I mean, you all have random thoughts that you don't know what to do with, right? Here are my most recent...
I miss the days when you could eat anywhere and shop anywhere without supporting a cause. I'm a little bit annoyed at restaurants, hardware stores, and craft stores getting involved with politics. Because all of the sudden, if I want a chicken sandwich I'm a bigot, and if I shop at Home Depot, I'm not supporting what God wants. And the newest thing with Hobby Lobby? Suing over Obamacare? I think the whole thing is silly. I just want to eat a chicken sandwich and buy a hammer in peace. Wanna know what else I think is silly? Hobby Lobby in general. Have you read my friend Becky's post on it? You'll laugh, I promise. Unless you love Hobby Lobby...
Speaking of Becky. Did you know that we had a playdate the other day? You probably didn't. Why? Because I suck at blogging. And the few pictures I took weren't super because I spent most of the picture taking time trying to bribe my children to behave. Every time I'm around Becky, I want to be a better cook, homemaker, sewer, photographer, and awesome person. Why? Because Becky excels at all of those things. Here's her writeup of our morning together.
I have a love/hate relationship with online shopping. Why is it that there is SO much I want to buy? I don't feel like I'm an over extravagant person, but give me 30 minutes at gap.com and a hypothetical $500 and I could do some serious pretend damage.
And speaking of hypothetical money, do you guys have an ongoing 'list' of things you want/are going to get? I'm not talking shoes or anything, but big things like a second freezer, or a new mattress, or bikes for your entire family, or a new camera lens. And that's only about half the list. Someone needs to teach me to be content with what I have...
Sophie hasn't had a binky all week. She doesn't ask for it too much either. I think we've made serious progress.
I currently have two apple cinnamon candles burning in my house right now. It smells like Christmas and I am in Heaven.
I've had a abnormally large desire to craft lately. I made felt bows, turned some instagrams into magnets, and want to take up crocheting. I have a very strong need to buy pretty yarn.
I think that's about all I've got for now. Until next time, here's a picture.
My babies turn two tomorrow. That means a two years ago from today was a painfully hot Sunday and I could hardly walk, yet Josh and I went on a rather long walk in hopes of getting the babies out. 8ish hours later, my water broke!
I procrastinate things and it's not a good thing. Does someone want to help me change that part of me? Thanks.
The new Joshua Radin CD is my favorite. Even if you've never heard of him, look it up. It's beautiful and has been playing on repeat for days and days.
I've been on a cleaning streak lately and have cleaned a lot, and yet my house is still a mess. Boo.
My sister moved to Ohio yesterday. My heart broke a little bit. I've never had her more than 4 hours away and so far, I'm not liking it.
Be kind to her, Ohio. Please?
I'm over summer. I've become a lame, old adult that complains about the heat constantly. When I was a kid, I thought I'd always want to live where the sun's rays don't stop shining (i.e. Arizona) but I'm over it. I hate sweating, I hate my hair in the summer, I hate feeling over heated. I can't wait for fall and cardigans. Ah...cardigans.
One of my best friends gets married in a few weeks. I need to buy some waterproof mascara because I know I'll be all sorts of ugly crying when that happens.
And along with that friend's marriage, there are other great things happening in the lives of my friends. Things I can't write about just yet and things that I can (like wedding girl's best friend recently having a baby boy. Basically, my son in law, Thatcher, was born.) Life is good.
Did I mention my girls turn two tomorrow? A whole two years old. Life is moving at a incredibly fast pace and I'm not sure I'm ready for it.
But alas, there's no stopping it and I'm about to enter my third year of twin-dom.
*Disclaimer. This post ended up being a lot more of a rant than I intended it to be. Sorry, but it felt good to get it all out. I threw in some random twin pictures at the bottom to appease those that just come here to look at cute pictures. So be warned, this is a grumpy post...
I have a hard time sleeping when Josh is working the graveyard shift. Like a really hard time sleeping. I'm not sure why just having Josh next to me makes all the difference, but it's nights like this where my mind races a zillion miles a minute. I think about anything and everything and start to worry. I can be a big worrier, so sometimes being left alone with my thoughts isn't a good idea. Luckily, the things I'm currently worrying about aren't too big of a deal (well, I guess that's a matter of opinion...) but there are a few things that no matter how distracted I get, still hang over my head. It's frustrating because I know that worrying and thinking about situations I can't control doesn't do any good. In fact, it does harm. So how do I stop? Hopefully I figure it out. My sanity needs it...
On a semi-related note, can I confess that I'm done with school? Mentally, I've completely checked out. I'm over it. I hate it. I don't want to continue. So why am I? Well, I'm about 3 classes away from getting my degree. Two stats classes and my capstone. That's it. I'm soooo close, but yet I feel like it's years away (maybe that's because it pretty much is) I'll be taking each of those classes, one at a time (thank you, pre-reqs) so it's going to be 3 more semesters. 3 looong semesters. Going to school when you're in a college town, surrounded by students isn't that bad. I really enjoyed the time in our marriage when Josh and I would both come home and do homework. We'd meet on campus and have lunch together. We'd wait for each other to get out of classes. We'd text about how boring our classes were. It was easy. And before that, I always had roommates that were going to school. It was motivating. I had friends in my classes, my coworkers were students, we talked about exams and upcoming breaks.
Now? Nothing. It's just me and a computer screen.
I hate that I don't have actual lectures and discussions to participate in. I hate that nobody I associate with is going to school (well, that's near me). I hate that I waited to take stats until the very, very end. Didn't I know how unmotivated I would be? Didn't I remember that I've already failed it, so I probably should have retaken it on campus where I'd have extra help?
But mostly I hate that I'm not finished. It was really hard for me when Josh graduated. I actually cried a lot that day. You see, *I* should have graduated right along with him. That's when most people I went to high school with graduated. That's when my roommates graduated. Me? Nope. I did not. I was pretty down on myself that day and my mom was quick to remind me that I was growing two children. I guess I could have used that as an excuse, but guess what? It didn't matter. That had nothing to do with why I didn't have a cap on my head. The truth is that I failed two classes and there were some semesters that I only took 12 credits. Plus, I switched majors a time or two (ok, I guess just technically once, but I unofficially changed it twice). That's why I didn't graduate that day. Who cares that I was pregnant. I'm sure a lot of pregnant women graduated that day. My lack of graduating was my fault and my fault alone. And I feel like it's still my fault that I'm not done. Sure I haven't given up since having the girls and I've continued to go straight through, but I should have taken summer classes. I should have not put off stats. I should have pushed myself harder. Now, here I am unable to push myself anymore. The school won't let me. I've got to take at least 3 more semesters when I should have been done TWO YEARS ago.
It makes me sick.
*Sigh*
And now Lillian is crying. This girl needs to start sleeping through the night. I've been saying that since... the day she was born? She goes through phases where she'll sleep well for a week or so, but on average, she's up at least once or twice at night. I am tired.
So how do I fix myself? How do I forget about my problems, finish school and get Lillian to sleep through the night? I've got about 7 more hours until I'm supposed to meet my friend to go running (granted, that's if the girls don't wake up when we're supposed to go) so I guess I have that long to mull it all over in my mind. Grrrrr... Who wants to come have a sleepover with me? I've got a king size bed and I'll even kick the giant stuffed animals out. ;)
And just for good measure, here's a couple of recent(ish) instagrams. If we're instagram buddies, these are old news. They're still cute though. Incredibly cute. Lillian is sporting the Mr. Potato Head glasses and Sophie is reading about Mr. Brown.
I just love them.
OH!
And on a very positive note, Regina Spektor's new album is really good. I've been listening to it all day and I've decided that I must see her in concert again. Specifically with this girl and her little sidekick, Hailey (who does have a blog, but hasn't written in over a year. Boo on her.). You can bet your bottom dollar that when Miss Spektor comes to Salt Lake again, we'll be there!
I've written and re-written this post about a gazillion times. It just isn't sounding right to me. Not that it's "bad" per say, but I don't like how what I'm trying to say is coming across.
Basically, I've been thinking a lot lately. Specifically, I've been thinking about trials. I've been taken back recently at how many people around me are suffering. Sometimes, I get so focused on what I'm going through that I forget to stop and look at the big picture. I get in such a hurry that I don't hold doors open for people, or I don't let the little old lady who's just wanting to buy some orange juice go ahead of me at the grocery store. I forget that these people I come in contact with everyday are actual people. People with heartaches, people with struggles, people who are on the verge of breaking down. A while ago, I stumbled across this blog post. Go read it right now. It will change the way to treat people. Once I read it, I was determined to cut the crap so to speak, with superficial relationships. I hate the "How are you?" "Oh fine, thanks." conversations that occur on a daily basis. I've been asked that before and I sometimes just want to scream, "I'm NOT ok! I'm having the worst day I've had in months." but who does that?
I was talking to a friend a few days ago, that actually does do that every once and a while. She's feisty and I admire her for it. She doesn't intend to make people uncomfortable, but to make them think. So often, we're too busy worrying about our own problems, that we miss hearts breaking around us. You never know what the cashier at Target had to deal with before they started their shift. You never know why your doctor felt the need to have a 45 minute conversation with the patient ahead of you (even if it was a conversation about horses and dating...). You don't know who's going through a divorce, who got in a fight with a loved one the night before, who had a someone recently die, who just had a miscarriage or who...whatever it may be.
This all sounds so depressing and I know it's a weird topic for my blog, but I can't get it out of my head. It's been especially interesting to see people interact this holiday season because people are sooo busy. And greedy. And rude. So, my Christmas wish is to have people pay closer attention to each other. Stop with the superficial 'friendships' and really get to know somebody. Basically, just be kind to one another because it's true. In the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can't see.
*I wrote this post back in April. I never published it because it made me sad. However, I must say that although I still miss Logan, where we live now is a really, really good substitute. I absolutely love it. It's got the same feeling as Logan did. It's got a ton of Logan transplants (aka fellow USU alum). The people are friendly and it feels like home. I'm not sure why I'm publishing it now, but... here ya go.
Sometimes I miss
the place where I fell in love with Josh
the place where I met some of my best friends
the place where I got my education
the place where scraping a foot and a half of snow off your car every morning was no big deal
the place where everyone is an Aggie fan
the place that feels like a small town, but there's just enough to do
the place that has the yummiest sno cones in the world
the place where I stayed up all night with roommates talking about the future
the place where you can get fresh Aggie ice cream and milk that doesn't need to be refrigerated
Sometimes I miss that place. Sometimes I miss Logan, Utah. This is one of those times. I knew this was coming. I predicted it. Although I'm very excited for our new home (which is pretty much finished! Final walk through is tomorrow!), I think I'll always miss Logan.
Always.
*Speaking of Logan and school. I'm still not sure if I can go back to school this semester. I'm calling my advisor today to see if there's anything I can take this semsester. I might have to wait until January though, but ya know what? I haven't taken a semester off since I started college in 2006, so I'd be ok if I 'had' to. I guess I'll know soon enough!*
Have you guys read this article? I don't like it. Not one bit. I get that things change and technology improves the lives of the general population, but really?
No more separation of work and home?
Paper maps?
Encyclopedias?
Hand-written letters?
The lack of paper makes me sad.
I'm all for saving trees, but I don't really like this new world of kindles and google maps that we live in. Sure it's convenient, but what happened to curling up with a book on a cold, rainy night? What happened to pulling out the map on your road trip to California?
I'm also not a fan at the lack personal contact we have with each other. I'm ashamed to admit this, but I didn't really even know my next door neighbors until about a YEAR after we moved into our last apartment (and Natalie, know that I fully blame myself. You're the one who had a baby to take care of. Me? I sat on my butt and did nothing about it. Don't feel bad at all about it.) I mean, we shared a wall and I said nothing more than 'hi' to them if we happened to get in our cars at the same time. Oh, and once they moved, Josh and I successfully avoided the newbies. They lived there for a few months without any of us acknowledging each others existence.
Pathetic.
Sometimes, I like the fact that we have facebook and I can stalk the girl in high school who I said 3 words to, or the crazy people in my sociology classes, or random friends of friends, but I think it's hindered me to have conversations with people face to face. There's no 'catching' up anymore. Now conversations start, "I was reading on your blog blah blah blah." It's just weird and very impersonal.
Now, don't get me wrong. I love blogging. (obviously) I think why I love it so much is because this blog has become my journal. I used to be a VERY avid journaler. There have been times where I've written 3-4 pages per day. I sadly haven't written since I've been married and have instead focused my time to this blog. But do you know what I miss? Writing. With a pencil (or pen) and actual paper. I wrote a check the other day (I know, a check? How old school can I be?) and I realized that besides signing my name on the Relief Society roll at church each week, I NEVER write. I at least used to write at school, but since the babies and taking online classes, all I do is type.
So now, I'm stuck with a decision. Do I start journaling again? If I do, I'll still blog, but it will take a serious hit. Should I start a gratitude journal? I've always thought those were a tad cheesy, but at least I'd be using a pen, right? Write down stuff about the babies? But that's what I do here with typing and pictures.
Elizabeth Smart's story has been one of interest to people all over the world. A 14 year old girl kidnapped at knife point in the middle of the night from her quiet, affluent Salt Lake neighborhood. The story hit me hard. I am the same age as Elizabeth Smart and grew up just 40 minutes south of her. My best friend and I talked about her all the time. We used to go on bike rides the spring/summer she was missing and we'd pass by dozens and dozens of missing person fliers. I always had my eye open to spot her. I felt it was the least I could do. She was my same age. I couldn't stop thinking about how it could have been me. I followed the crowd's collective opinion and thought we would find a body instead of a living person. However, Fro never lost hope.
I remember the day she was found very vividly. Fro, Jessie and I had just gotten off the bus and were headed home from school. My little sister was on our porch and yelled, "They found Elizabeth Smart!!!" We took off running and had to catch the news. I was shocked. How could she still be alive? Who had taken her? Where had she been this entire time? What had happened to her?
I didn't learn the horrific answers to those questions until a few weeks ago. I read the book her parents wrote about their perspective of the situation, but it wasn't until the trial that anyone had really heard it from Elizabeth herself. I've been following the news very closely since day 1 of the trial. I've read the transcripts and had the tv on ALL day when the verdict came out. Fro is a producer for KUTV and was feet away from the Smart family when they made their statement. She helped interview juror members and was even in the media room during the actual trial.
Because of all this, I'll admit that I got teary-eyed when she made her statement after the verdict. She was graceful, empowering, strong, and the definition of class. She is truly a hero of mine and I am so glad justice was finally served for her.
Elizabeth Smart has no idea who I am. However, I've always felt a connection to her. I thought about her every day for the 9 months she was missing. I have thought about how I think I would have handled the situation. I've thought about the strength she has that I lack. I have thought about how she has found the will to move on and I have thought about her huge amount of faith.
When Josh got home from work yesterday, I handed him both babies and started a bubble bath. It was a bit of a crazy day and I needed a break. As I soaked and listened to the amazing tunes of Tegan and SaraI thought about the beautiful blogs that make up my 'blogging world'. Since becoming a mother, I like to read about mothers that inspire me. Like this family who I've been shamelessly stalking for over a year. Or these guys. Then there's this family. And this one this one and this one. This mom and her remarkable story. And not to mention my rockstar aunt.
And those are just a few of them.
Sometimes I look at myself and my ability to be a mother and I get discouraged. I wish I could be that creative, that loving, that organized, that on top of it all. However, a few days ago my friend sent me this video. I had seen it floating around before I had the babies and didn't give it much thought. I watched it and I was changed.
As I reflected on all this during my long awaited bubble bath last night, I had a 'ah-ha' moment that made it finally all click.
I started dancing when I was 3 years old. I took classes from BYU for an hour a week since I can remember. It was my identity growing up. When I went to high school, I quickly realized that although I had been dancing since I could walk, I wasn't up to same standard as my peers. Some had only been dancing for a year or two, but they went to expensive studios for hours and hours a day. I was very humbled and realized I hardly knew the world of dance. I watched those girls in a borderline creepy way. I studied every angle, every movement, every facial expression. I made the school's dance company as a sophomore and was forced to meet even a fraction of the level that these girls were on. I pushed myself. Hard. Over the next three years, I learned more about dance than I had at my entire 13 years at BYU. I had a higher standard to meet and I did my best to achieve it. Now, I was still no way on the same level as some of the girls I danced with. They were winning awards in New York and getting acceptance letters from prestigious dance companies. But, we all made Timpview High School's Dance Company. We were all on the same team.
That's how I feel about motherhood. I may not be as creative, patient, funny, or insightful as others, but I'm trying. And I'm ok with that. I read about amazing women all the time and it gives me a new standard to aim for. I don't compare myself to them, I don't envy them. I understand that I have qualities that they lack. I guess I'm simply grateful for peers that make me push myself. I'm not a very self motivated person and need someone to look up to. I've got my collection of blogging moms who provide that for me.
I am grateful because it makes me want to be a better mom to my beautiful girls.
<><>{Isn't this hilarious? I had to do it.}
And I really don't want comments praising me for being a good mom. That's not what this is about at all. It's simply another Ah-ha moment that I recently had about the course my life has and is taking.
And I couldn't be happier about it.
{and this obviously isn't one of the posts I was working on. I'll get to those soon. However, Brian David Mitchell was just found guilty and I shall be blogging about my thoughts on that next.}
****This is my second post of the day. If you don't care about why I'm not breastfeeding, skip down to see a couple cute pictures of the babies.****
First off, know that I've been thinking about what to write in this post for a long time. This is in no way anti-breastfeeding or my list of excuses. It's simply my story and why it didn't work out for me. I'm writing it because as I was dealing with the guilt and frustration of it all, I would have loved to read something like this. A few weeks ago, I was on a fellow twin mom's blog and she explained her story. It helped me immensely and I thought I'd share what happened to me and my baby girls. Trust me, I've been on enough blogs and forums to know that this is a major hot topic among mothers. Once again, I'm just trying to be open and honest about my experience and hopefully I'll be able to make at least one other mom who 'failed' at it feel a little bit better. This is going to be long, so if you don't want to read it all just know that I'm no longer nursing or pumping and I finally feel great about it.
Before I got pregnant, I didn't give much thought to nursing. I'll admit, I always assumed that I would be an expert at it and I'd stop when my kids got teeth (the thought of them chopping down on me with little fangs has never been appealing). Once I got pregnant, I started doing a little bit of research on it. Then, when I found out I was having twins, my casual research turned into major, in depth studying. I read about supply, positions, latching, etc. I read books, and did a sufficient amount of research. I felt prepared. I bought the GIANT twin nursing pillow (the boppy on steroids) talked to moms, and again, did more and more research. Breastfeeding was going to be free (well...sorta. I'll touch on that in a bit), convenient (again, sort of...)and the best for my daughters. I had my mind made up. That's what I was going to do. I even brushed off the thought of getting a pump because I was sure I was going to be that good at it.
Oh how ignorant I was.
Fast forward to the NICU stay. I realize my babies were only in the hospital for 4 days. There are plenty of NICU stays for weeks and weeks that don't interfere with breastfeeding. I guess I should have been more proactive in demanding to nurse my babies, but I didn't really care (yes, some would automatically flame me as being an awful mother). Of course I wanted to hold my babies and let them know I loved them, but I never had an overwhelming desire to nurse them. Plus, I didn't know if I could. And by could I mean allowed. Nobody ever said anything. I started pumping on the first night and they had bottles with donated breast milk filled with 15 ML for each baby and Josh would feed one while I fed the other. Seriously, nobody said anything about actually breastfeeding. Again, I should have asked, but I was more concerned with their heart rate, oxygen level and getting them home.
I figured there was still plenty of time to get the nursing thing down.
So, I went to a breastfeeding class on the 3rd day in the hospital. It was about a half hour and it wasn't anything I hadn't heard or read before. The lactation consultant was shocked that I hadn't tried nursing my babies and promised to meet me in their room 15 minutes later. When she arrived, I tried it for the first time. I'll admit, I've always been very modest (I didn't even like changing my shirt in front of my closest friends, let alone be half naked in front of a stranger) and I was very awkward about it. More than that though, I didn't feel anymore of a connection than when I was bottle feeding. Call me crazy, but I didn't. I worked with the LC for over an hour nursing each baby separately and then both together. By this point I was in pain, feeling super exposed and not enjoying the experience at all. From the actual act of nursing to the pressure the babies and pillows were putting on my incision from the c-section, it was all around uncool. However, the next day I continued to work with a different LC and just before we went home I was filled with a little more confidence that this was going to work out.
However, my milk still hadn't come in. Like, not at all. I pumped every two hours in the hospital and I could tell that the nurses didn't really believe me. They were actually pretty rude about it. The last nurse I worked with was confident my milk come in that weekend (babies born on a Monday, we went home on a Thursday) but strongly suggested getting a pump. So we rented one (I was still convinced that I wasn't going to need one long term) and we headed home.
I pumped like a mad woman and nothing came until Sunday. It took 7 days for anything to happen. Some people think c-sections have something to do with it, but I know several women who have been able to nurse while being stitched up. Plus, my water broke naturally, I wasn't induced. My body naturally went into labor, so who knows what my deal was. That first weekend home with the babies was the HARDEST couple of days of my life. I'm not kidding when I say that I got an average of 4 hours of sleep a day. The babies were waking up every 1 1/2-2 hours to eat and by the time we got both kids taken care of, we would catch maybe a half hour of snooze time. I was paranoid of something going wrong and a walking zombie (random, but is anyone watching The Walking Dead series on A&E? Super creepy, but I can't stop watching it. Haha!). I tried to nurse during the day, but they would scream and scream and scream. I tried feeding them a bottle first and then nursing, but they would instantly fall asleep. I was also having a really hard time nursing both of them at once. I'd get one going and the other would sneeze and ruin it for both of them. Screams would burst out and I'd join right in with their cries.
It was awful.
About a week later, I missed a call from the original LC I worked with. I didn't call her back because (I'll admit) I was embarrassed. I didn't want to pay $30 for her stupid class and I was slowly loosing any appeal for breastfeeding that I once had. I continued to pump, but the babies were only getting about 50% my milk. Remember, they were only eating 1 oz every two hours and I was pumping for 20 minutes every two hours. That's not a lot of milk at all.
So, I started doing research on low milk supply. In all my previous research, I skipped over this because it didn't even cross my mind that I would have this problem (don't ask me why...). I read up on food and herbs that women swore by and went shopping. The biggest thing that helped me was fenugreek. However, in order for it to have any effect on my supply, I had to take 10 pills a day. It also made everything smell like maple syrup. I mean everything. My skin, hair, pee, sweat... I was a walking waffle. It also didn't come cheap. I think we got a bottle of 100 pills at GNC for about $12. That's a 10 day supply. It would have been awesome if it boosted my supply enough for both girls, but even with the fenugreek and pumping every two hours, they were only getting about 60% of my milk.
They tell you to nurse, nurse, nurse to get your supply up, but that didn't work either since the babies only latched for a few minutes at a time. My pediatrician said to go one weekend without offering a single bottle. Sorry doc, but after 6 hours of starving my babies and having them SCREAM constantly, I gave in. They were nursing better, but still not getting full. By this point they were up to 2 oz every 2 hours and I was making 2 oz. Only enough for one baby.
This went on for about a month. I'd nurse, give formula and pump. It was brutal. My supply hardly increased at all. I think at my peak I was getting 3 oz (6 total) every 2 hours. Sadly, that didn't happen until they were eating 4 oz each. I was never able to keep up with my growing girls.
By mid September, I made the decision to stop nursing. I still wanted to give my babies breast milk, but doing my routine of nurse/bottle/pump was killing me, so I devoted myself to pumping. Again, I was doing it every two hours and tried several 'power pump' sessions (look it up) and nothing special happened. I couldn't get past my peak amount. By the end of October, I had had it. I was so frustrated with my body, my inability to to provide the 'best' for my babies and was WAY too sleep deprived.
Then we moved. Packing up the apartment in a week, traveling down to Salt Lake 3 times in that week and taking care of newborn twins while trying to pump was the most ridiculous thing ever. Plus, I was very emotional because I didn't want to move at all. I was really depressed over the idea. I went several days only pumping once or twice and I'm sure you can imagine what that did to my already pathetic milk supply.
After about a week in our new place, I told Josh I was done and he was more than ok with it. He wanted me to stop stressing and crying over it. I continued to pump about 3 times a day so I wouldn't hurt (not that I've ever experienced being full) and mourned the fact that days that my girls would be getting my milk was rapidly coming to an end. By Halloween, I was getting about 3 oz total in the entire day.
Then, the guilt set in. I made the stupid mistake of looking on the Breastfeeding Multiples board on babycenter and I read all about how wonderful, beneficial and even spiritual breastfeeding can be. I felt a guilt like I'd never felt before and considered myself a huge failure. I secretly started taking fenugreek again and pumped during the day. It was a joke. I was back to the NICU days all over again. I researched how to relactate and realized that very few women have success. Those who do have success were super lactaters (I doubt that's a word) to begin with. I'm actually embarrassed at how hard I tried.
The last time I pumped was the day before Thanksgiving.
I drew out the agony WAY too long.
Even now I feel slightly guilty. Women are hard on each other and VERY opinionated. There are thousands of women (and a handful of men who apparently care) out there who make formula feeding moms feel guilty. Trust me, I've felt plenty of guilt and I truly want to know what it's like to enjoy nursing a baby. However, I ended up making a list of why I'm ok with my decision and it made me feel tons better. The list looked something like this.
Bottle feeding allows Josh, family and friends to feed the babies.
I didn't have any of the 'perks' that supposedly come with breastfeeding. It didn't help me loose weight and it didn't (TMI) stop any monthly female visitor from finding me.
I am still able to bond tremendously with my babies while they drink their bottle.
I don't have to stress about tandem nursing in public. Again, I've always been very modest and for the life of me, I can't figure out a way to modestly nurse two babies in front of others. I know one twin mom who exclusively nurses and she said that she has only gotten out of the house a small handful of times because of it. Ummm...no thanks, that's not for me.
Formula for two is expensive, but with couponing, getting free samples and buying it on KSL (the black market for baby food) it isn't that bad. Plus, I save BIG bucks with cloth diapering. In the almost 4 months that the babies have been here, I think we've spent maybe $75 on diapers. Really though, it's probably more like $50 and I'll continue to save until they're potty trained.
Formula is a lot let stressful for me. No pills, no calorie counting, no pumping/nursing sessions. I make the bottles and feed them all within 10 minutes. I don't stress about bottles a fifth as much as I stressed about my supply.
Now, I realize all of those reasons are about me, but I wasn't the mom my daughters deserved for the first few months because the stress was consuming me. I firmly believe that a mom has to be happy in order to be the best mom for her children. Stressing over what my babies were eating was making me anything but happy. And after talking to our new pediatrician, I was comforted to know how far formula has come. It's completely different than it was even 5 years ago. It's more natural, nutritious and they're getting closer and closer to breast milk. Everyone will agree that it isn't as good as breast milk, but there are thousands of intelligent, thriving babies with great immune systems that have only had formula. The fact that my girls got any breast milk as long as they did was an advantage to them, but formula is currently doing them just fine.
So there you have it. I am the crunchy mother's worse nightmare. I had a c-section and formula feed my babies. Both pretty taboo subjects in mommy world. I'm ok with it because the c-section saved my life and formula has saved my sanity.
This post took me over a week to compile. I'm not sure if anyone will read it, but I hope that someone will benefit from something I said.
And I'll leave you with what my favorite ladies on television think about it.
I just wrote a negative post. I mean NEGATIVE, but I erased it. The babies are going through a growth spurt and have become unpredictable all over again. They are waking up multiple times in the night and I feel like I've got 2 week old babies. It's hard. However, (and this is super cheesy) I'm so grateful for the online community of twin moms I've gotten to know. I read a post from one of them today and it put everything in perspective. There will actually be a day when they can feed themselves, put their binky back in on their own if it falls out, entertain each other, live without being bounced for hours on end, sleep more than 5 hours at a time, and not go through 20 diapers in a day. Sometimes it's hard for me to look ahead to those days to come. It's easy to get wrapped up in two screaming, poopy babies. It's easy to focus on the fact that I haven't slept for more that 5 hours since July (the last month of my pregnancy was awful and I hardly slept). It's easy to have pitty parties because I usually don't shower before Josh gets home from work and don't eat before noon.
However, I should be grateful for all of these things. I have two beautiful, healthy GROWING (seriously, I can't believe how big they're getting) babies. There are people out there who would kill to be in my situation. They want the sleepless nights, the spit up hair, the poopy clothes, the bottle washing, the bouncing, they want it all. As hard as it is, I just have to look at these 4 beautiful eyes and know that it'll get better and it's all worth it.
Before you think I'm a rockstar mom or anything, know that I'm not. I've actually been compiling a post over the last few weeks over weaknesses and frustrations I've had. I don't know if I'll ever actually post it, but it's been good for me to get it out. I can't do it all and because of that, I've dropped the ball on a lot of things. I'm slowly learning to be ok with that though. Who cares if the laundry has sat in the dryer for days? Or that we're using paper plates because all of our dishes are dirty? I do feel guilty that I don't give each baby the attention that she deserves. I physically can't. If they aren't crying, they're in their bouncy seat or bumbo, just so my arms can catch a break. I hardly ever hold a happy baby. Lillian's fingernails desperately needed to be cut and I kept forgetting about it for... two weeks! One time, Sophie had a blow out (dang Huggies....) and I forgot to change her onesie for several hours. And remember when she pooed all over the wall and I left it there? Yeah, I'm far from an amazing mother, but I'm learning. And even though I feel like the babies and I are back at square one, I just have to remember that this too shall pass and look into these 4 little eyes and everything is perfect once again.
I've debated the whole vaccine issue for a while now. Every bit of info I find seems to contradict another bit of info I find and it only makes me more confused. I never really considered not vaccinating altogether, but thought of maybe doing the delayed schedule. I've ultimately made the decision to trust my doctor and trust modern medicine. However, one thing that still makes me want to skip their next appointment is the fact that they'll get shots. They had their follow up bilirubin test a few days after they came home from the hospital and slept through the poke. I'm 100% positive they wont this time around and I don't think I'll handle it well. I've heard lots of moms cry when their babies get shots and I'm predicting that I'll loose it. I mean, that's a total of what, 8 shots? Plus two hurt, grumpy babies for a few days.
Tips on how to make it less of an awful experience?
And just because I don't want a picture-less post, here's one of the little ladies. Not a good one or of anything of much entertainment, but a picture nonetheless.
Don't the insides of their mouths look hilarious when the suck? They look like little fish.
Remember when Josh and I didn't have a washer and dryer, but we didn't really mind because we went to the COOLEST laundromat ever? Well, lately I've realized how crappy it would be if we still had to go there. I do laundry about every other day and we haven't even pulled out the cloth diapers yet... (although I'm totally stoked for when we can. We just have to wait until the wee ones get to be 6lbs and then we'll be total hippies)
Also, I've noticed something about going out in public with twins. EVERYBODY (well, pretty much) has something to say about them and EVERYBODY wants a peek. We usually put the girls in their stroller and have their car seats covered when we go out. I've decided though to keep it uncovered and just let people stare because it's a lot less awkward that way. Today for example, we were at Sam's club when we ran into one of our old neighbors. Now, we didn't really know this girl (or her husband) when we lived across the parking lot from them and it took a few seconds for me to realize who it was. I was on the phone with my mom so I couldn't stop and chat or anything. The awkward part happened when she tried her hardest to get a glance at the girls and we walked by. I sorta felt like a jerk as we passed her, but it was one of those things where the entire scenario happened in 1.5 seconds and like I said, I didn't recognize her in time. Anyways after that, I decided to 'unveil' the babies and just let people stare. That way, people don't have to be painfully awkward when trying to look at them. They're able to look, gasp, say the first 'twin' comment they can think of, and then go along their merry way. It's quite a nice system.
The most awkward thing though is when people talk about us, but not to us. Example: We were at Smith's yesterday (I think it was yesterday...maybe the day before) and a lady says, "Ooooohhhh look! TWO babies!" I never know whether I should just smile, respond, or continue what I'm doing when I overhear these things, because I know they're not talking to me. This time, I decided to turn around and I noticed that the lady was talking to.....her baby. Yep. She was having a conversation with her infant about mine. It was hilarious. I'm pretty sure I just stared at her as she told her baby how cute they were and how much work they must be. She was standing 4 feet away from me, but chose to talk to her baby instead of me. I thought it was weird. So I just smiled and walked away. Am I a jerk? I really don't know how to respond to people. I'm fine with people coming up to me and asking questions or just wanting to look at them, but it's when people try to be 'sneaky' about it that makes me feel weird. I have twins. I'm not deaf or blind. I can hear your comments and can see you abruptly changing your pathway so it will cross mine so you can get a glimpse as to what's in the two car seats.
Don't think I'm annoyed or bitter, because I'm not. It's just hilariously awkward. I don't know if people want me to respond or not. So like I said, I just usually stare and smile. Sometimes I'll just say, "yep" and walk away. Again, I'm more than happy to talk to people, but when you choose to talk to your 3 month old over me, I'm not going to pursue much of a conversation with you.
And I'll leave you with a picture by the marvelous Amanda McKie...
This post might be weird, it might not make any sense at all, and it might make me sound like I don't appreciate motherhood. I hope it doesn't come across that way, but here I go...
Having regrets has always been something I've feared. I question decisions over and over again and tend to over analyze everything. I've always been this way and I don't think I'll change. With these babies, I've done oodles and oodles of research on my 'decisions' for them. Cloth diapers? Check. C-section/traditional labor? Check. To get them on a schedule or not? Check. How strict? Check. You get the idea.... Probably my greatest fear that stems from this is being a 30-something house wife who feels unfulfilled. I never wanted to enter motherhood with a list of things I'd wish I'd done. I realized today while I was talking to Josh, that luckily I don't have any regrets about pre-baby (or babies) Brittany. I want to have it in writing though so when I am 30-something and feeling down, I'll be able to look back on this and see how silly I'm being.
I got married young. I was married at 20 (a few months shy of 21 though...), pregnant with twins at 21 and will be a mother at 22. However, for me, I think I 'lived' enough before the first two came along. I had 2 1/2 years of college life, had the most fantastic roommates anyone could ask for (really, I don't have any horror stories about any of the girls I lived with and most of us are still really, really good friends) and I've been able to really get to know myself. I've questioned my faith, politics, lifestyle, and other opinions and have come to conclusions that I'm satisfied with. I've made so many memories with my roommates and friends and have taken many vacations (some of them spontaneous) with them. I've had countless 3 am conversations about love, humanity, pain, the gospel, the future, and practically every other topic that's on a high school/college girl's mind. I've had the most amazing job in the world (this will get its own post in a few days) that has taught me about patience, love, myself, and God in a way that nothing else could.
Josh and I have also had a really great year and a half of marriage. We've gone on many spontaneous adventures (on a slight smaller scale than I did when I was single), stayed up many nights talking about our future, and have really become a team (cheesy, right?). I'm so excited to see him become a father and start this new adventure with him. The timing has been of bringing twins into the world has been a bit crazy, but it's been a huge blessing at the same time. I can't wait for our little family.
I understand that everyone has their own scale of when they're 'ready' for parenthood. To some, my few years of being independent wouldn't be enough. For others (especially in Mormon culture) they are already the mother of two by the time they're my age (and that's without having twins) For me, it's been just enough time to develop yet another 'plan' about my future. A plan of how I want to be a mother. I'm satisfied with the person I've become and although I have a lot of room for improvements, I feel like I gave my pre-motherhood days my all and learned/developed as much as I could. I don't want to be a 30-something, Mormon housewife who wonders, "what if?" or wishes I would have done more. I might throw all of my game plan for motherhood out the window as soon I have my girls in my arms, but at least I feel prepared.
I searched through pictures over the last 4 years to post and I thought this was a good (although tiny)representation of some of the fun I've had.
It's kinda sad when I think about all this. I'm saying goodbye to a Brittany that will never exist again. I'm not trying to bash motherhood at all, it's just that once you're a mother, it can easily become your only identity. Hopefully, I'll be able to recall on all my life experiences and remember that Brittany is still a person besides having the title of 'Sophie and Lillian's mom'. Maybe I'm wrong, but maybe that's why many people feel like this. It's a sad story, but I know of a few women who view life this way.
So that was my a-ha moment about myself and motherhood today. I think as long as women live our lives for not only our children, but for ourselves, we'll be ok. Now I just need my girls to get here so I can start living for them. 34 weeks and counting...
p.s. I forgot to mention that I've seen Regina Spektor in concert twice. Now if that's not living a full life, I don't know what it. :)
I realize I might be a little more left swinging than my super conservative friends on some issues, but it's good to know that Carole Mikita and the LDS owned station of KSL at least raises some questions on the similarities between Mormon pioneers and immigrants now. I don't claim to have a perfect solution because it's a MUCH more complicated issue than a simple black/white situation, but...well, I'll let you just listen to Carole.
Going to the special ed talent show was the greatest moment of my week. I cried when my most favorite participant ever came out. I hugged him at the end of the show and almost cried again.
Speaking of crying, this song came on the radio the other day while I was dropping off Josh at school. I started to cry. I must be pregnant.
I want to eat a fresh peach more than anything right now. I can't wait for Brigham's Peach Days.
I'm thinking we might be able to go to the State Fair if we get a babysitter. Any takers? I'll pay you in cotton candy.
I'm very proud and very tired over the fact that I worked 10 1/2 hours today. However, I was pretty useless around hour 7.
My spring break plans will consist of staying in sweatpants all day and trying not to think about peaches.
I'm grateful the Relief Society had a birthday so I was able to eat awesome food and excellent cake.
I'm also grateful that Lacy was willing to skip the second half of our 3 hour photo class to go to said birthday party.
I realized that the van I drive for work is a Toyota and almost had a heart attack. (I'm sorry, but the recalls have got me freaked out.)
Seeing friends after more than a year is always fun.
I refuse to accept that I'll probably be wearing maternity pants in a few short weeks.
I've had a cold this week and I keep sneezing. Every time I do, I get a crazy spasm in my stomach. Apparently the kids don't like it when I sneeze.
Someone in Barcelona was on my blog for 39 minutes today. I hope they enjoyed their stay.
I've got a really good friend named Josh, who sends me encouraging and funny texts throughout the day. I'm a pretty big fan of his.
I was asked this week if I took fertility pills in order to be pregnant with twins. I replied, "Nope. I've got my grandma to thank for it." (I don't think there's anything wrong with fertility medicine, but it was a weird question to get asked by a random shmo. I mean, who asks a stranger that? And with twins? Twins are not super uncommon, right?
This list is about 4 times longer than I originally anticipated, so I will end it now. Happy weekend and happy spring break. {Image taken by my awesome little sister}
The other day while I was getting ready, the song Little Red by Kate Nash came on my I-pod. The song doesn't mean anything in particular, but the title does. "Little Red" was the first nickname Josh gave me over about 2 1/2 years ago. We were sitting in the hallway outside of our apartments (yes, USU is a little different from BYU and girls and boys can live next door to each other or live right across the hall from each other) talking. Just casual "getting-to-know-you" chat and I was wearing a red hoodie. Josh called me "Little Red" as we were saying goodnight and my heart skipped a beat. I had already developed a small crush on him and this little action made it grow a bit. Over the next year he became my absolute best friend and a year and a half after we met, we got married. 3 years from the day he first called me Little Red, I'll be holding his twins. It blows my mind thinking about the way the Lord works sometimes. Here's why...
After my freshman year at USU, I decided to transfer to UVSC (not UVU quite yet...) I lived with my best friend, Fro, in a great apartment with great roommates. I had a good job, and felt at home in my hometown. I still wasn't sure what I wanted to go into, but I was seriously leaning towards Special Ed. UVU might have a program now, but a few years ago, UVSC didn't. In the back of my mind I saw that as a problem, but I brushed it off assuming that somehow it would all work out. I was lying to myself BIG time. I talked to many people about why I made the switch and I didn't really have any solid answers. I talked myself into believing that it was the right decision and I started to really believe it. Towards the end of the summer, Fro asked me out of the blue, "I don't understand why you transferred to a school that doesn't have your major." I sat there silent for a few minutes and then burst into tears. All the feelings I had been suppressing came flooding in. I knew I wasn't where I was supposed to be. I ended up going to visit an old teacher from high school and she told me if it was right, I'd be able to go back up to Logan and everything would work out. I immediately talked to my apartment manager and told her I needed to get out of my contract, I called my old roommates and Hailey graciously offered to give up her private room so I could live with them, and my Park Place contract sold within days without me doing any work at all. Not more than three weeks later I was back living in Logan, living next door to my future husband. That school year was the happiest, adventurous, most drama filled, yet the most fulfilling experience I've ever had. It's crazy to think how close I was to missing all of it. I'm sure my life would have worked out if I would have stayed in Provo, but I know my last name wouldn't be Mangelson right now and I know I wouldn't be this happy.
Moral of the story? Don't lie to yourself. Don't trick yourself into being happy. Do what you know you need to do and do it from the start. Because I decided to do that, (even though I didn't do it from the start) I have this blog and Little Red and Tall Josh are going to be parents in a few short months.
I love my life.
{December '07 when we gave the boys their stockings}
Now, was that cheesy enough for ya? Hope so. Oh, and wanna know the funniest thing about it all? I took two special ed classes at USU the next year and decided it wasn't for me. (Although I'll probably work with people with disabilities for the rest of my life.) I'm a sociology major. I could have done that anywhere.
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