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Archive for August, 2008

Open Letter To Angelina Jolie

Hi Angie,

I hope you don’t mind if I call you Angie but I feel like I know you because a friend of a friend of my brother reads the National Enquirer and always catches me up on what’s happening in your life. So first off, I know that you already have like a boatload of kids but that you just recently added twins to the mix. And I heard that you are finding twins to be very challenging. Actually the friend of a friend of my brother said that you are “totally going out of your mind.”

I think you should know that I too recently had twins. Not as recently as you and not in France. Although, I did eat a lot of croissants while I was pregnant and my ass got huge. In fact, I don’t really know what this “French Women Don’t Get Fat” author was smoking but she’s got her facts wrong. I mean, seriously, croissants are like eating a stick of butter. This might explain why I haven’t shed all of my pregnancy weight.

But on to the real reason for my letter.

Twins are a bitch. It’s seriously underrated the toll it takes on your anxiety level, mental state, physical appearance and overall health in general. Anyone who tells you with a huge smile that you must feel “doubly blessed” deserves to be punched in the head (but have Brad do it because you need to save your strength). When I had my first baby, she slept in a bassinet right next to the bed and, sure, I woke up eighty times a night but it was okay because she was the only baby and I expected to lose some sleep. Scratch that, it wasn’t okay, I was a hot mess but it was livable. One night my husband (who looks slightly like Brad – I’m not gonna lie, he’s a looker!) suggested that he sleep in the living room with the baby so that I could get a full night of sleep and I just about took his head off. I accused him of not loving me and just wanting to sleep alone. When the twins came – let’s just say completely different story. We took turns sleeping on the couch for months and I was thrilled every single time it wasn’t my turn. Like I said, twins are a bitch.

I have one nanny during the day and I hear you have a few on hand so I’m assuming you have one at night. Hell, you probably have a nanny just dedicated to reapplying your lipstick. Doesn’t matter. All the help in the world can’t drown out the crying of two babies who refuse to sleep, eat or play at the same time. Please don’t believe the people who will tell you to “get them on a schedule” that does not work on the planet reality. Eventually they will do more at the same time but the first few months are pure chaos and it’s not your fault.

Personally, I’m not a big showerer overall (wow, maybe I would fit in better in France) mostly because I have only about half the amount of photo shoots that you do, but since I’ve had twins I can count the showers I’ve had on one hand – and I was in a slightly serious lawnmower repair accident so that’s really not a lot of showers).

There’s not a whole lot you can do right now to make things better. You could try the Duggar’s method and just have one of your older children watch the younger ones like Maddox or Zahara or Dax or Ping Pong. But you’ll still have to keep an eye out for them. My three-year-old still acts like her sisters don’t exist so I don’t know how good a plan this is. Plus, my daughter also likes to dress up like a princess and whack people with her magic wand. Apparently babies don’t like this game. At all.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, you don’t have to be strong for any of us twins moms. We get it. We laugh in the face – right in the damn face – of people who have one baby. Even moms of twins who don’t have another child (or eight in your case) we think are weak if they complain. We’ve earned the right to be complete psychos. So you go girl, interrupted. And if you end up in the loony bin for a couple of days or months, I will be your first visitor -provided you don’t mind a couple of crying babies in a double stroller and a whiny three-year-old coming with me.

And in a few months, this will all seem almost amusing and you can just send a turkey lasagna to Rebecca Romijn with your sympathies. Which reminds me, I wonder if J. Lo got the apple pie I sent. I never received a thank you card. Bitch.

Anyway, best of luck and feel free to call me anytime before 9 p.m. Have your people call my people.

Regards,

Stefanie Wilder-Taylor

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on August 24, 2008 10:23 pmUncategorized56 comments  

I Need Something New to Complain About

Sadie’s endoscopy went well. I know I was hoping for yeast. But that’s because I’m always hoping for concrete reasons, explanations grounded in medical certainty- basically a diagnosis I can hang my hat on and move on with my life – truthfully move on to another worry. But there was no yeast. My little babe, it turns out, also has a very beautifully shaped stomach (I’ll have to research if there is any need for internal stomach modeling work for infants). So you might think I’d be pulling my hair out right about now shrieking “What is wrong if not yeast? And who finished all the Vicidon I thought I had left over from my friend’s mom’s surgery last year? (oh me)” but I’m not. I’m good. I’m just happy that I don’t have to start her on another harsh medication. The doctor thinks that Sadie is just still suffering from a bit of food aversion (really bottle aversion) from when she did have a raging yeast infection.

One of you readers, Diane, suggested that I try probiotics – and even gave me a specific brand – which I ran out and bought (see, a lot of people feel bad giving advice for some reason when, shit, if I’m blogging this much about it, chances are I’m ready to try anything). I believe it’s working. Sade’s been taking more and more at her feedings and seems less unhappy after she eats.

Okay, so she’s developmentally behind, not on the charts for anything really, but she is growing. And she’s awfully cute. So, I’m going to relax. But that doesn’t mean I will stop constantly complaining – because complaining is almost like my calling card. I do it extremely well, possibly because I’ve been practicing since I was still in diapers. Complaining, if done right, can be fun, harmless and cathartic. In fact, I don’t get on well with Pollyannas. If you can’t find something to complain about, you aren’t trying hard enough. Maybe there are some who find it irritating to be around someone who complains a lot. I find it irritating to be around people who try to find the upside to every single fucking situation. Listen, I may be exaggerating a bit. I don’t constantly complain. I just like to find the flaws and point them out in what I think is an amusing way. On the flip side, I’m quite forgiving of a lot of things like bad service in a restaurant, long lines at the post office and pharmacists who won’t refill my Xanax because it’s two days too early. These things come with the territory of life. Puppet shows where the performers spend 20 minutes telling the kids they must remain quiet and seated at all times, bad movies, many of my neighbors, circuses in general, parades, contractors, my deadline, the fact that it’s tough to get a good bagel in LA these are things I never tire of complaining about.

But, even I’ll admit it’s tough to complain when you’ve got this going on at your house:

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on August 21, 2008 7:43 pmUncategorized40 comments  

Sadie Endoscopy Take Two

Tomorrow Sadie will get scoped again to check for fungus in her esophagus. The procedure got moved up a week because the awesome new doctor is, well, awesome and made it happen. But, unfortunately for me, I can’t go with her because I have a meeting at the same exact time which has been a month in the making and can’t be moved. But her daddy will be with her. She will be sedated (twenty twenty twenty four hours ago-oh-oh I wanna be sedated) which didn’t happen the first time around. According to her new doctor, the fact that she wasn’t sedated was…um…to put it delicately, barbaric. WTF?

Last time we did this my husband couldn’t go with me to the surgery center so I brought the next best thing: my friend Diana. Of course, with the two of us sitting there with little Sadie in her carrier between us, we were clearly mistaken for “co-parents – AKA life partners” I found it highly amusing that the nurses spoke directly to both of us at all times in order to remain politically correct.

The endoscopy itself was thankfully quick and my life partner and I were brought back into the OR and to collect her ten minutes later where she lay, dry eyed, in the arms of a nurse sucking a pacifier. That won’t be happening this time. Sadie wants nothing to do with pacifiers. They may as well be made of chicken liver the way she spits them out of her mouth.

I’m hoping we find yeast again just so we don’t have to do an upper GI study and/or more tests. Can’t I just put the girl on Monistat and call it a day?

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on August 19, 2008 10:25 pmUncategorized31 comments  

Dear Crabby…

Hi, I’m back from Maryland where I did a little correspondant work for the Dr. Phil show. I will tell you all about it after I tape the actual show tomorrow!

Anyway, on to this week’s installment of Dear Crabby. If I don’t answer your question this week, look for it this coming Friday!

Dear Crabby,
My husband is helping to plan his best friend’s bachelor party. I feel like he should be supportive of his best friend but I’m not really looking forward to my husband spending a drunken weekend in Vegas oogling and rubbing up against nasty strippers. I asked him how he would feel if I was paying incredibly hot men to show me their junk and rub it against me. He understands my point but thinks that I should just get over it because he isn’t going to get laid or anything. What do you think? Am I overreacting?


Dear Scared of Strippers,
I understand your feelings and I’m sure the majority of women feel similarly to you. But here’s the thing: it’s going to happen anyway. Even if you put your foot down and say, “Babe, it just ain’t happening on my watch” all that would do is make your husband feel that you don’t trust him and are a controlling ball and chain. Neither of us want that. If you say, “Yeah, I get it. Go support your friend and buy him a lapdance on me” he’s going to think you are very cool and look all the more forward to coming back home to you. There are degrees of behavior; it’s normal for a man to go in a pack to a strip club for a bachelor party – it’s just some sort of rite of passage whether we “get it” or not. On the other hand, if your husband was frequenting strip clubs with his buddies for “guys night out” I’d tell him to hit the road. My husband has been to many bachelor parties in Las Vegas since we’ve been married and I don’t love the idea at all that he gets lap dances at these things but I do know that he understands that strippers are “there to make a buck” and not looking for a fine looking man like my husband to fall in love with them. Also, I know many many strippers personally and most of them are pretty haggard up close. Just sayin’.

Dear Crabby,
I have recently purchased a special toy for myself that I like to use when my husband is unavailable. Or when I just have an itch that needs to be scratched without taking care of his needs. Or whenever. My husband doesn’t know about it, and I’m comfortable with that.

The problem is that about 2 days after this new toy arrived in the mail, my father died. Two days after that, he came through on a psychic reading that my friend had, and now I can’t shake the feeling that if I used my new toy, my father would be watching… or if my husband and I did anything outside the regular boundaries of lovemaking, my father would know… how do I shake that feeling?

I’m going to go with my first instinct here: I’m not a licensed psychologist – despite the fact that I enjoy diagnosing people with character disorders on a fairly constant basis – but I think what’s at work here is grief over your father’s death. If your toy came in the mail 2 days after something traumatic happened, you probably can’t help associating the two events in your head a bit. The fact that your dad came through in a psychic reading, whether or not people (even you) believe in that type of thing, makes me think that there was unfinished business or a suddeness to his death that left you needing to connect with him. If that’s true then the fact that you feel your father is watching you would seem a very normal reaction to me. So herein lies the problem: how to get back to normal sexual activity (or kinky as the case may be)? First you need to give yourself time to grieve your father’s passing. Then when you are accepting of the fact that although he is gone, he is looking after you from the afterlife then assume that A) He had plenty of sex in his life and he most certainly masturbated B) He wouldn’t have wanted you to watch either of those activities C) You wouldn’t have wanted to watch him either so D) He wouldn’t want to watch you. So up there in heaven, when you get ready to get yo nasty on, your dad is definitely changing the channel.

Dear Crabby,
I am a stay at home mom of a 2 year old girl and pregnant with my second (about 2 months left to go ). My husband’s family lives several hours away and they like to come and visit every few months. I like them all, thank God, and they are good people and all that. But, here’s the problem: I don’t really want them to stay with us anymore. Our house is just too damn small to have people staying with us for extended visits. The occasional overnight is fine, but several days makes me wanna run and hide. There is just not enough room for any breathing space and it feels like we are all always on top of each other. Having a toddler running around and now adding an infant to the mix, not to mention trying to keep my daughter on any sort of normal napping schedule becomes almost impossible with all the activity in the house and then she is cranky and hard to manage which makes the visits even more enjoyable. I want to get the message across without being a Bi-yotch. As said, they are nice people, but also the type that would be offended by this I’m sure of it. I think they feel like since they don’t get to be here all the time they want to make the most of the visit by spending every waking moment with my daughter. Is it rude to ask them to stay at a local hotel for future visits?

This one is sort of a no-brainer. Grow a set and tell them how you feel in a nice way. “Hey guys, things are getting pretty hairy around here in this small space with my growing belly. Seriously, my stomach practically needs its own room! (injecting humor helps take the sting out). We’d obviously love a visit from you, but for now, taking all of our comfort into account, I think having you guys at a nearby hotel would be our best bet. Let me research a few places and set it up.” Simple, to the point, but it does take a little bravery. If they get offended, you can always blame it on the pregnancy hormones. You aren’t being selfish you’re just taking care of yourself. And as long as you offer to help locate a comfortable alternative, you’re doing your part!

Let me know if you all agree or disagree with my advice!

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on August 18, 2008 5:48 pmUncategorized16 comments  

Dear Crabby Postponed

Hello sweet readers,

Due to a sudden trip to Maryland -leaving tomorrow morning at 8 a.m. I will have to save my Dear Crabby column for Monday. I have lots of great questions, sexy questions, in-law questions just waiting for you to sink your claws into. So, although you’ll probably miss me, I will be back Sat. night. And in case you’re wondering why I’m going it’s for something super crazy which I will fill you in on very soon. Don’t eat too many cupcakes while I’m gone.

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on August 15, 2008 5:27 amUncategorized14 comments  


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