What a long strange year its been.

I'm friggen tired. I was up with Baby D at 4am to feed her - she went back down in 15 minutes (a record) but then I found myself unable to sleep. I couldn't wipe my mental "blackboard" clean. While staring into the dark, waiting for sleep that never came, it occured to me that one year ago this weekend, I was already 6 weeks pregnant with the girls. I was taking painful progesterone shots to keep the pregnancy. I would sit at my desk with heating pads on my arms because I couldn't lift them thanks to the hormones. On November 5th, I found out I was 7 wks pregnant with twins, and the roller coaster hasn't stopped since.

Its thoughts like that one that put things into perspective. Here I am, and here the girls are, 5 months old and flourishing. Because I'm in the trenches every day, I tend to forget the long painful road that I walked to bring these girls into the world. I shall try to remain mindful of it tonite when Baby S refuses to sleep and I want to strangle her. Last nite, I was able to get her down with the aid of Baby Tylenol, 10 oz of formula with cereal, and a heating pad in her crib to warm the sheets -- so that when she leaves the heat of my arms, she won't jump up like I've just dropped her from a building.

I've been having strange fucked up dreams of death and dying. Dreams of being shot (but not actually *Dying* in the dream of course), dreams of running from hitmen...last nite I dreamed I got bitten on my hand by a bat. DH says I "have issues"...HEY! Thanks for that insightful analysis, jackoff. I'm thinking that the death I'm dreaming of is a symbolic one, since I've been struggling with the idea that I'm not going back to work anytime soon. Daily I argue with myself: I look at want ads (cause I HAVE to for NYS DOL) and keep thinking "Christ, I'm so happy I don't really have to go back to this". Truthfully, I don't think I'd be able to function at the same level I used to. I mean really, could I get up at 4am with Baby D and then pop back into bed for another hour before getting up to start my day? I can't even imagine doing the 2-hr commute in each direction, and rushing to pick the girls up at daycare - UGH. But there's also a side of me that thinks "Christ. I used to make more $$ than DH...now my life is consumed with Victor Vito (big ups to Danielle!!), Blues Clues, and Elmo" sometimes I feel like my brain is rotting. I'd love to start up my own biz, but that takes $$$ (which I just don't have). Some days are filled with infinite promise, and some are filled with infinite doom, its all a flip of the switch or a swing of the mood.