Day 2

So nothing in me feels the urge to blog as of now. I'm currently doped on 5 tsp of Benadryl to try and get a massive allergy attack under control. Dare I say this once a day blogging thing is off to a rolling start with nothing to say, no motivation to write it and too sleepy to think. Babies are to the point now that I can lay them in bed awake and they will quietly play until they eventually and happily fall asleep. And we are down to only Graham nursing once a night. Gatlin usually sleeps through unless Graham wakes him. And babies playing themselves to sleep means I can usually go to bed sooner. So, I have great hope of a good nights sleep and, as anyone who has ever downed this much Benadryl surely knows....one needs a full night's sleep and an all day sleep and then another night's full sleep to recover from 5 tsp. Allergy attacks this severe do not come often anymore but when they do they inhibit breathing and that tends to be a slight problem. I hate using an epi pen or calling medic husband home to do an epi injection so usually ungodly amounts of Benadryl remedy the situation...but also leaves quite the hangover after the fact. Given the fact medical predictions said I would be hospitalized 6 months out of the year after the age of 29 due to failing immunity and allergies that could no longer remain under control with prescribed medicines, potentially endangering my life, I figure 5 tsp of Benadryl once in a blue moon is not so bad at all and, in fact, makes it entirely tolerable. I am reminded each and every time how blessed I am to be here and only having to deal with this every once in awhile...and remain at home while it is dealt with. So, scary amounts of Benadryl may knock me out for awhile but I am not in a hospital bed but living an absolutely amazing, entirely healthy life here at home with my children.

The majority of my day was spent on the phone giving a detailed statement to the insurance claims adjuster for the dude's truck I hit with Brad's truck a few days ago. That was fun. It's going to be my fault but if he hadn't been such a turd and in an all fire hurry to whip around me while I was backing up I wouldn't have hit him. Had he remained patient and just let me back up then the entire thing could've been avoided. But, patience seems to be a rare virtue that drivers, more often that not, no longer possess anymore. And he obviously had no desire to wait on me to back up. In his attempt to whip around me and hoping I would stop....I hit him. I started to get bent out of shape over it but was reminded once again that it's just not worth it. Life is so much bigger than a bent up bumper cap and so very much larger than whether a dude failed to wait on me. It could've been much worse. So, I blow it off and move on, thankful we have insurance and so thankful he was kind and pleasant to deal with.

After dealing with that half of the morning I dealt with children's insurance stuff until lunch. I did manage to make it into running apparel today. My feet effortlessly slid into the running shoes that they have not fit in for months now. It felt good just to be able to lace them up once more. But apparently just because you're wearing running gear does not exactly mean you are going to run, as little boys dictated differently. The shoes felt good though. And while the shoes were feeling good the bra was not. I have learned that nursing twins is capable of making a tiny A cup boob...and just for the record I used to be a C before having children. I guess nursing many babies decreases the boob size over the years. So anyway, nursing twins is capable of making an A cup boob expand into a D cup boob. But when your bra only fits a generous size B cup for nursing a babe you run into problems with your D cup boobs in B cup bras. So, after a day's worth of wearing that around and smashing them up I have discovered I desperately need to remedy that issue. My plan for now is to just cram them in there until I can go and get a larger size...not exactly a bad problem to have...except when you know that all of this amazing cuppage is only going to shrivel up and leave them even smaller than before. Oh well. I figure as long as doting husband does not care than I shouldn't either. For now, I'll just revel in the glory of needing a bigger size and being grateful they do have the problem of being jammed up in there. At this point it's about like trying to put 10 lbs of sugar in a 5 lb sack. Assuming they don't just flop out while I run I figure what I have will work for now and I'll just temporarily live with the discomfort until it can be remedied. Anyone can live with a little discomfort for an hour or so. I only need it when I run. The rest of the day is spent in much more comfortable under clothing....unless you wear it all day thinking you're going to go run any minute and never do.

And on the boob note...I was more than a little frustated the other day when despite some pretty great effort the scale is no longer budging in the downward direction. A little exasperated with it all I eventually told adoring husband in which he promptly replied, "Your boobs are probably no less than 10 lbs of that so quit worrying!!" With this thought now implanted within my head I awoke the next morning to rethink his words. As I carried out my morning routine before children awakened I decided to test his words and see if they held any truth. So, I determinedly set the scale on top of the bathroom counter and continued to unleash a boob frmo its confines and weigh it. And words from the wise here on this one...if you are ever in your life tempted to weigh your own boob do not carry this experiment out in front of your bathroom mirror, as it will only serve to confirm the insanity of what you are attempting to do as you watch yourself do it. And if I get really honest I'll humble myself and tell the story in whole, as it does not quite end there.

Being the determined one that I am, when it failed to register I was already on a mission and was going to get an answer. Given the fact the bathroom scale will not register anything less than 10 lbs my little experiment obviously did not work...despite the fact I'd like to think I'm carrying around 20 lbs of boob. So, my mind turned to the fish scale we bought to weigh babies with in order to keep an eye on their growth. Just an ordinary fish scale bought in the hunting/fishing dept of Wal Mart. Little do they know all the uses their fish scale possesses. After purchasing the scale we then made a little receiving blanket into a sling by sewing a metal key ring on each corner. The blanket could then be hooked to the scale in order to weigh the babies it held within...or in this case...the boob it held within. So, out came the fish scale with blanket sling attached. And let it be known that weighing a boob with a fish scale and a sling is not exactly as easy as it sounds....nor is it anywhere even near possible to weigh both at the same time. But I did eventually discover that if you stand on your toes, tilt your head to the left and hold your 4th finger up that one can successfully attempt to weigh one's own boob. It did take some contortions of the body that rival even the greatest of any trapeziest's moves but I managed to get it done....only to disappointingly discover that one boob weighs a mere 3 lbs. That's a total of 6 lbs...assuming they're even....which given their lopsidedness I'm doubting that fact. But, I did ascertain that they were weighed immediately after nursing so a full boob could easily grow to 5 lbs, as 2 lbs worth of milk each side seems reasonable enough. So, it stands that 6-10 lbs of my body weight as of now can be truthfully chalked up to lactating boobs.

And that's not exactly where I anticipated this post going......but, there's all the information you never wanted to know about how to weigh your boobs and what this uneventful day held for us.