happy birthday

Happy Birthday to this guy...

thebeautifulmess.com

He's a stud muffin. Inside and out. And he turns the big 27 today. {Talk about babies having babies! Ha!}

Last year on his birthday, he showed up after work to find his new little wife all dolled up--hair curled, dressed to the nines, make up, fancy schmancy shaved legs, ready to go to dinner...this year he'll be lucky if I manage to change out of the shirt that Charleigh just spit up on. {They are ganging up on me today.} Two years ago I made him eggs benedict for his birthday breakfast. Today I didn't even have a hand to throw a frozen waffle in the toaster. Last year I bought him tickets to the ACC championship AND sat with him in the freezing cold to watch it. Not so much this year...But thankfully the same little ones that are making it impossible for me to even brush my hair today or send my husband out the door with so much as a measly cup of coffee are the same exact reasons that P-dubs wont even notice. Who cares what I look like when you come home to this goodness?

So double team me all you want girls. In honor of the man of the house here are some reasons we are so incredibly thankful for him.

Thankful for Daddy

1. How hands on he is with the girls. Seriously, I think I changed a grand total of ONE diaper the whole time we were in the hospital. Five weeks later and he's still helping me out as much as he can. And these girls LOVE him.

2. His sense of humor...nothing like having a husband who can make you laugh so hard you almost split open your c-section incision. His modeling/explanation of his 'manly diaper bag' is priceless. Especially when he's trying to explain something that he clearly has no clue what it even is.


3. How hard he works. This guy has some serious initiative. And he's good at pretty much everything he does.


4. He's easy on the eyes. His daughters could just stare at his bearded little face for hours. I could too but how unproductive is that??

5. He has not complained once that I've cooked dinner maybe 4 times in the past six weeks. He usually even calls to offer to pick something up on his way home. He's treated me with a lot of grace in this new phase of our lives. {Example...pretending like he didn't notice that I wore the same yoga pants two three days in a row. Or telling me he thinks my new belly button looks 'kind of cool.' Definitely not the words I would use to describe it.} 


6. His faith. Plain and simple.


7. His beat boxing skills. Amazing. And I can't wait for our girls to be able to bust some moves to this talent.


8. How he is as manly as they come but will still watch certain un-named Bravo reality TV shows with me.

9. That he is up for any and all adventures. Disney World. Europe. Effingham, NH. Taking two newborn babies anywhere. He lives for that kind of excitement.

You can take the boy out of America but you can't make him act European. 

10. That he chose me to be his wife and friend for life. I'd choose him a million times over. Even over Michael Buble. And that's saying a lot.


Your three girls love you more than you know. Happy birthday!

And we're done. Hurry home, dad. 

the last few weeks

These girls have been here for 4 weeks. Four weeks?!? I'm ecstatic they're here and healthy. And I'm so happy to have my feet back to normal and the ability to sleep better. {Ability to...it may not always ever happen. Ha.} But I've had a couple moments where I actually MISS being pregnant. I miss when they were just mine and safe and snug in the womb--not a care in the world...nothing to cry about. And then I remember how ITCHY I was and how I swore I wouldn't have to deliver them at all because they were just gonna explode right out of my belly button. I honestly don't think my skin could have stretched any more. Seriously. So here are the last few weeks of me being ginormously pregnant... When we still called them Baby A and Baby B and relished their every kick and flip and hiccup. 

Twenty-seven weeks...getting my classroom ready. 

This is actually the day I split my pants...28/29 weeks. 

Thirty weeks...

Thirty-one weeks...and yes, that is a cute little romper thingy...I would NEVER normally wear a romper. But since this one was made for a pregnant person, it wasn't as umm...short. NO ONE wants to see that much of  "thirty-one weeks with twins." You know it's true. 

Non-Stress Test...32/33 weeks. And these little tests are not really "non-stress." Especially when one your kids chooses to sleep instead of move. Whatever noise/buzzer thing they use to wake the babies could wake the dead, I think. I MAY have gotten a little pooly when this was done to Baby A. 

I think a sparkly top is a must when your bump is this big. People at church were practically blinded by that thing. Plus, sequins go really well with slippers. 34 weeks...

We love the Red Sox...even if they lose a lot and the franchise is in shambles. Thirty-five weeks...

I plopped down in a kid chair {poor chair} in Warner's classroom and she just had to take a picture because I looked so ridiculous. Why do they even MAKE maternity clothes with horizontal stripes?!? Mystery to me...35/36 weeks.  

TWO days SHORT of 37 weeks...my water broke the night this was taken and the girls were born  early the next morning. That's the good stuff.  Just you wait. 

they're here?!

Sometimes I still can't believe it. They are here and we get to keep them?? I can type this because one baby is snuggled up with my sister and one is being rocked by my aunt. {Sigh.} LOVE my new life. Today my sister told me I needed to blog so that one day I could remember all these moments. And I'm going to assume she is right... like she always is. These last three weeks have been a blur of snuggles, cries, quiet moments, mad chaos, hilarious slip ups {forgetting to attach the bottles before pumping? Yup, I did that. I was reaallly tired. Yikes.}, swaddle after swaddle, DIAPER after DIAPER, non-stop breastfeeding {two babies eat A LOT}, and endless amounts of love. Seriously. We are so in love with these tiny girls. I have so much I could say about my last few weeks of pregnancy, their birth story, our time in the hospital, their names, all the 'firsts' we've had so far... but for now here are our girls...

Logan Addison Minor

October 26, 2011

4 pounds, 15 ounces

18 and 3/4 inches

Charleigh Grace Minor

October 26, 2011

6 pounds

18 and 1/2 inches

baby veto

Our girls have been nameless for pretty much my entire pregnancy. I really think it might be harder to choose two names than one.  I mean, you want to like one as much as the other. Plus, also, most of our name conversations have gone something like this...

What about 'Boston'? Boston Rae...or Boston Rose...

...Or Boston Marathon. Boston Marathon Minor. 

He was kind of  serious.

And then one day Paul texted me asking about the name 'Penelope.' I still haven't figured out if he was serious or not.  Cause I was all, "What?!? Are you serious?" And he just said, "Why wouldn't I be?" {Which made me feel a little bad about reacting so strongly.} But really, he's not all that serious all that often. I know him so well and yet he can sometimes be so...vague. (Another example of this is how I still don't know whether he's ever had his ear pierced. Because I SWEAR one time when we were just kind of acquaintances who kind of ran in the same circle that I saw him wearing an earring. Very JT. But then later when I mentioned it he said he'd never had his ear pierced. But then one time his brother said something about piercing their ears. So I just don't know. Mind you...this is the same boy who also once convinced a roommate of mine that he and his {Asian} roommate were brothers and MKs from China. And another time, he convinced a girl at church that he was an Alpaca farmer. Yup, that's how he made his living. Raising Alpacas.  It's not that he is lying so much as if you're gonna believe he was raised in China and his primary source of income is from a llama-like animal, then he's going to let you believe it.

Anyways, in these last few weeks of being extremely gigantically pregnant, I've been watching the season of FRIENDS where Rachel is pregnant. I feel like this could be us...except my hair's not that good and P-dubs is not quite that nerdy.





Other names that have been thrown out in the last few months...

Braxton & Hicks {seriously these tricky little contractions were a huge pain around 28 weeks...)

Dolly & Howie {Call the kids and the dogs at the same time! How efficient...}

Taylor & Liberty {Throwback to our college days...}

Of course they've also been lovingly referred to as Laverne & Shirley, Lucy & Ethel, Ben & Jerry (ya know, before we knew they were girls...) But we may just have to go with Rain and Veto.    

my pregnancy by the numbers

2: babies

43.5: total number of pounds gained SO FAR. This is hilarious because when my doctor told me that she wanted me to gain between 35 and 45 pounds I thought '35 sounds good. There's no way I'm making it to 45.' Yet here I am. Forty-three point five pounds heavier with time to spare. There's no telling how high that number might get. But, honestly, I don't care. If extra pounds means those babies are getting nice and big. I'll take it. Although, I feel bad for my knees and feet. 

5: pillows needed to gain any semblance of comfort to sleep. Poor P-dubs. I literally take up at least two-thirds of the bed  with my big belly and superfluous pillows. But, trust me, they are necessary. And on that note...

4-6: hours of actual sleep time. I'm convinced that God designed the last trimester to ease you into sleepless nights with a newborn. Or two.

52: number of times I have pricked my finger to check my glucose. Thank you, gestational diabetes. 

0: number of pregnancy books read. I just find that there are so many other things that I need to get done!! My sister-in-law did give me a great book about the 100 healthiest foods to eat during pregnancy and I flipped through that every trimester. Lots of good information. And I really do want to read one about breastfeeding. Because that is terrifying to me.

I'm probably gonna wish I'd read every single one of these. Yeah? Dang it.

3: "shoes" that fit. By 'shoes' I mean my slippers, my Uggs, and these slipper/moccasin things that Karen let me borrow.  I'm lookin' pretty fly these days.

5-7: times I get up to 'go' at night. I used to be able to hold it like a champ...I could go from the time I got to school until I got home 10 hours later and never even think about it. Not so much with 10 pounds of baby crushing every organ. 

1: number of times this has happened...but now that I know she is willing, it will definitely happen again before I deliver.  

Sister of the year award. For so many reasons...but painting my toenails is right up there. P-dubs also wins an award because he took my old polish off.  So blessed.

21: days until these sweet girls will be here!!! One way or another they will be here by November 3rd...whether it's by scheduled c-section or Baby A deciding to turn head down so I can try this the 'normal way.' Really doubting that since she's been breach the whole time. Wicked stubborn. We can't wait. 

september

September flew by...seriously...working a longer day, trying to get a nursery together, and going to a million appointments makes time fly. And makes my feet three times their normal size. 

Some things I LOVED about September?

The Mountains

Our yearly trip to the family mountain house for Labor Day...this little cabin holds a special place in my heart because two years ago when we were there this happened: 

Ummm, yes. Yes, I will.

Side note...this is the ONLY picture of the two of us together the night we got engaged. We keep it classy. And we love it that way. Also, I'm not convinced my rings will ever fit again...and I dare not wear them on a chain around my neck because I WOULD lose them. Without a doubt.

This year was almost as monumental because Paul met this little guy and his heart was changed forever.  

We contemplated bringing him home with us...but he wouldn't fit in the car and the thought of two wimpy poodle-ish dogs, an Alaskan malamute, and two babies in one town house nearly stopped my heart. Someday P-dubs will get his manly dog. Someday.  Until then he has Howard...the complete antithesis.

Fantasy Football

Ok...I don't really love, love this one. But P-dubs sure does and he even got my little brother on board this year. Just look at that concentration. The strategizing going on in this dining room rivals that of many an NFL meeting room, I'm sure.

Second Grade

There's just something about the beginning of the school year that makes me downright happy. And I have fallen in love with this class faster than I thought possible. I swore I couldn't like a class as much as my class last year...but these newbies are given those sweet third graders a run for their money.  Here's a few reasons why...

One of my not-so-little-ones has taken it upon himself to be my protector and voice of reason. I call him 'Big Mike' because he reminds me of Michael Oher from The Blindside.  He is determined to make sure 'da babies' are ok. Nothing will happen to them or me on his watch. He carries my chair out to recess, he holds my hand to make sure I don't slip down the hill on the way to the playground, he brings an extra chair to me at the carpet to put my feet up on...(believe me, my cankles are as alarming to my kids as they are to me...) He's just downright sweet.

Big Mike. And, clearly, those are not my ankles in the background. They don't resemble balloons at all.

I happened upon these sweet boys playing three-player-checkers during indoor recess. I'm not entirely sure what the rules were but at one point I heard one of them saying..."No, no, now I push YOU off the board." I think the concept of checkers was completely lost on them. But I kind of love that they made up their own game. 

 And, of course, they say the funniest things that just make my heart happy....

While describing coins in math class, one little boy said...

'Mrs. Minor! I know this one has John KFC on it!'

 Oh, you mean John F. Kennedy? 

'Yeah!'

 Well...that's George Washington...

One of Warner's little girls came up to me at recess to tell me why it was a good thing that Miss Warner wasn't married yet...

"Because then you no go out with your friends. And you no leave the house. And your husband says...stay in the kitchen and cook me dinner!"

Wise words...from the mouth of babes...

Pumpkin Spice Lattes

I could drink these all day. And eat pumpkin chocolate chip cookies with them.

 Can't wait for all the fall-ness that October will bring!

wardrobe malfunctions

Almost 29 weeks pregnant and the last two days I have finally felt uncomfortable. That's pretty good, though, right? Thank you, Jesus, for my job but the extra hour they've added to the school day is KILLING me! (Or at least my feet...)I survived the sweltering summer with zero swelling and then came a whole gaggle of 2nd graders. People keep saying 'You need to be off your feet. Sit down!' 

I'm sorry... but you try sitting for any length of time with a classful of 7-year-olds. I try to stay off my feet but I still have a job to do. And, honestly, sometimes I forget that these twin-bearing feet can't handle what they used to--until I get home and take off my sandals to reveal puffy, imprinted little balloons. My feet hurt so bad the other night I decided to bust out the Danskos. 

 Usually these are reserved for winter months when dress pants and jeans cover their kind-of grandma-ish style. But, you guys, I LOVE these shoes (along with many a nurse, teacher, and chef). These things are just so dang comfortable. So yesterday I donned my black Danskos (with pants... I once saw someone wearing them with capris and it just wasn't right). But they didn't fit. What?!? They are supposed to be a little loose!! So I put on my brown ones (which then did not match what I was wearing. Oh well, I can't see my feet anyway...) By the end of the day my feet HURT. Not even a little bit. My Danskos failed me. Couldn't even believe it. (I know...oh, the drama.)

So today I tried flats. But shoes were the least of my worries. If only I'd known. Just as my kids were arriving for the day, a downright hilarious thing happened that not only made my day but the day of many a colleague.

Y'all I split my pants. 

Not even a little bit. Like an indecent bit. I was trying to stack a few reams of paper next to a shelf and since I can't bend AT ALL I was in a full out grand-plié...trying my hardest to be graceful. I should never try to be such. It never works out. I sent my poor co-teacher (who I'm sure is completely traumatized by my pregnancy and will likely never procreate because of it) to find someone with a sweater to wrap around my waist belly. I called my brother to bring me some pants but not before waddling down the alley  to Warner's trailer to show her the hilarity that was my split pants (and my booty in the process, not gonna lie...I'm sure that's just what she needed first thing in the morning...poor thing. It's tough being my best friend.)

Lesson learned. It looks like I need to invest in some maternity pants. Dang it. And, also, I should probably just keep a pair of yoga pants in my desk drawer.