You've all been asking...here's the latest and greatest!

I was just thinking about how lucky our children are to have not only both grandmas and grandpas living, but a great grandma around as well (she's 96, god bless her!). As both my grandfathers died before I was born and both my grandmothers passed before I graduated high school, this is HUGE for me! To all you grandparents out there, we love you for all that you do!

Yesterday we left our house for the first time. We had heard horror stories of how long it takes to leave the house with one baby, let alone two. I'm proud to say (yes, I'm bragging) that we both showered, fed and dressed the babes, and packed their bags in a little over an hour. Our pediatrician gave them a clean bill of health- perfect in fact. Then we decided since we were out we might as well take advantage of it and go out to breakfast. From our first outing I can already predict my next annoyance- for the past four months it has been comments directed at how large I am, for the next year (most likely longer) it will be that I will have to explain to every passerby that our twins are NOT identical. PS boy/girl twins cannot be identical- something about private parts makes this impossible! During breakfast we had to explain this three different times...

As you walk down the aisles of Babies R Us you can't help but think that half of their products are just unneeded and unnecessary gizmos. That's exactly what we thought when we saw the 'pee pee tee pee' a few weeks ago- who would actually pay money for a waterproof, plastic, cup, looking like gadget anyways?!


We discovered the answer this evening...WE should buy a pee pee tee pee. Just as I thought I had everything under control I hear a strange noise- kind of like pee hitting the wall. Who knew infants had such a strong pee stream...

"It's light brown and huge honey!" As I noted the size and color of Finley's 4am poop in the mandated bowel and feeding log (we're breast feeding), for a moment I was thrilled. Then it hit me. I thought we were losers when we were playing Scrabble on a Friday night- now I'm doing fist pumps and dances over a pile of shit, ah motherhood...yet, I wouldn't have it any other way. The feeling of looking into our little one's eyes is indescribable...they are perfect in every way.


We are all home and doing unbelievably well. Thank you for all of your prayers, visits, phone calls, emails, and gifts- they are SO appreciated. The babies have gone on their first walk (a few days ago), have had their first bath at home, and are sleeping very well- which makes mommy and daddy very happy! The first few nights we put them in separate bassinets and they woke up every hour or so. We assumed that was normal and reluctantly accepted our fate. Last night, however, we tried putting them in the same bassinet and they woke up every THREE HOURS! Sleep! I can function quite well on 9 hours of sleep with only two wake up calls! We love to have visitors and if you want to stop by and see the babies they seem to be most alert in the mid-afternoon and early evening...


We love you all! Thank you again for all your prayers and support!

FINALLY! Thank you everyone for all of your phone calls, visits, and well wishes over the past few days...We apologize for not answering calls in the hospital- we have our hands full! Our beautiful babies were born on Wednesday afternoon at 3:01pm and 3:15pm after a whopping 5 hours of easy labor- I suppose they wanted to get out of those tight quarters! Finley Grace was born first weighing in at 7lbs even. Parker William followed at a hospital record (for a twin) of 9 lbs and 3 oz. Why does it not surprise me that our children are breaking records already? They are both well natured, beautiful babies who cry very little and are very curious about their surroundings...Finley sleeps with one eye open a crack just so she won't miss out on the party! We love you all and will be posting lots more in the next few days...

Toting around 25 pounds of belly the last few weeks has really left me missing everyday, ordinary things that I used to be able to do. For example, I can no longer wash my left leg with my right hand in the shower- ever tried soaping with your left hand? I get up multiple times every night to use the bathroom which is typical and I can't really complain too much about, however, I cannot get back into bed without waking my husband with what he calls my 'pregnancy pant' - it's tough work getting back into bed at 3am. I also cannot wait to leave my house without an escort- the comments and looks that I receive have become so numerous and so bad that I refuse to leave the house without Brian. This makes for many long days of TLC and HGTV. I am also excited to decrease the surface area of my stomach. The other day I was putting on lotion after a shower and realized that it takes more pumps of lotion to cover just my belly than it does to do the rest of my entire body. Ah yes, and then there is fitting through doorways. This sounds silly to most of you but I'm already feeling like a terrible mother because of the amount of times I have slammed the babies into a doorjamb or tight space. Don't worry, babies cannot suffer from shaken baby in utero- I checked. Oh the simple things...

I never thought that I would want my children to fail a test but every Tuesday and Friday I find myself praying on my way into our doctor's office that they will miserably fail their non-stress test and that they will be forced to come out! No such luck. Another Friday and another pass- not even a pass, a pass with flying colors. The nurses always make sure to note how they have never had twins as responsive as mine and that most of the time these tests take anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour, not 8-14 minutes as my children have been doing them... That's what I get for wishing failure upon my little ones. Sooo another day with no children- my mom thinks it will be this weekend. Keep your fingers crossed!

On a different note, if you haven't heard the news, our family will be in St. Louis from September 9th through October 7th- Brian is doing an anesthesiology rotation at Barnes for the month. We are hoping to have Parker and Finley baptized at Ascension the last weekend we are in St. Louis. If you are in town we would love for you to come and share the special day with us!

Back in July I decided that I needed to get ready for these babies to be here any minute- little did I know that I would still be a 200 pound hostage a month and a half later. The first thing I did was make a hair appointment...then got a pedicure....then had my eyebrows waxed- heaven forbid my doctor should think I don't take care of myself. Last night as I was getting ready I was appalled at how awful my eyebrows looked. Wait, could my roots really be that bad? I looked down at my feet hoping they were still in good shape only to see half grown out chipped toenails. Hmmm...did I have time to make another week's worth of appointments? I began sharing this with my husband who looked at me dead seriously and suggested that I pluck my own eyebrows and paint my own toenails. Was he kidding? Was he not aware of the watermelon that I have been carrying around with me for the past nine months? I haven't SEEN my own feet for the past four months let alone am able to bend down and paint them! Well, I think after my ranting he felt a little bad for making such an absurd suggestion and offered (like the sweetheart he is) to paint my toes for me. Could he be any cuter?! So this afternoon I pulled out all the nail colors (he insisted that he got to pick), the polish remover, and the files. I should have had a clue as to how my toes were about to turn out when he sat down and began talking like a homosexual Asian man (this was before he tried to file the TOPS of my toes). The first round of hot pink polish went so poorly that he called it his "practice round" and had to take it all off and start again. Having left some of the pink behind, the second round was doomed when he went with a lighter color, leaving my toes to look slightly diseased. Sooo about those appointments...

I'm not sure which is worse, buying a puzzle at at 10pm on a Saturday night or taking six days to finish it. Either way, its done and would look simply fabulous framed if anyone is interested...

A few months ago I informed Brian that I had "commissioned our first piece of artwork." With terror in his eyes he looked at me and, like a true Meek, asked, "How much did it cost?" Little did he know that one of our best friends in NYC was such an accomplished artist! Thanks Jane-O for doing such a fabulous job on our babies' pear pictures...they will be here to enjoy them soon (we hope)! We LOVE them!

I feel like I have been nine months pregnant for the past four months...and I know I have certainly looked it. You know it's bad when the doctor comes into the exam room and chuckles about how big your belly is...the exact quote was "You guys are taking pictures of this, right?" Even my doctor thinks I'm a freak show. As usual the babies passed their non-stress test (we go twice a week to have them done now) with flying colors. My belly is still growing which means they are still growing (54cm)- another good sign, at least that's what the doctor says. With all this room to grow and no stress it could be awhile longer...great. The doctor gave us the big induction talk today but we can't seem to justify putting me and the babies through the additional stress of the pit-monster just to have them here quicker, especially if they have enough room and there is no medical reason to do so. Pray they come naturally so we won't be forced to make the decision...

As Brian is on vacation this month and I stopped working a few weeks ago, we are both at home eagerly awaiting the arrival of our two little ones- every hour he asks if I've had any contractions (none), any slight cramp and I become hopeful that I'll be in active labor within hours (no luck)...it seems I have never wanted and welcomed pain more than in the past week. Needless to say, we sit around doing absolutely nothing hoping that it will be 'any minute now.' Having washed, organized, and purchased everything for the twins months ago and having cleaned the house more times in the last month than in the entire last year...we are bored out of our minds. On Saturday, after hours of television and having finished our second movie of the day (still in our pajamas at 9pm), Brian and I decided we needed something to do. A late night trip to Meijer of course! After perusing the video games (Brian tried to talk me into buying a Nintendo Wii- just what we need with two children on the way) and digital cameras we found ourselves in the board game isle...An hour later we were at home playing each other in Scrabble. Brian won. I refused to play again and instead insisted we start on our other purchase- a puzzle. Yes, we are 25 years old and spent our entire Saturday night (and early Sunday morning) working on a 1000 piece, castle-masterpiece (Brian talked me out of getting the 1500 piece wolves-in-the-forest puzzle). What's even more pathetic is that we woke up this morning looking forward to getting back at it...Hopefully we will have retired the blog long before Finley and Parker are able to read- heaven forbid they should discover just how big of losers their parents are! Who does puzzles?!

For those of you who are unaware of the scooter story you are in for a real treat...For those of you that do, skip down a few paragraphs as some major developments occurred late last evening at our local Wendy's...

For some reason or another my father has always wanted to buy me a scooter. When I got into Michigan he was thrilled that he would finally be able to fulfill his dream- Brooke on a motorbike. Of course, we all know (except for my Dad and students attending the University of Wisconsin at Madison) that scooters are not so cool when you're 18 and, as such I flatly refused. Every year there after my father asked if I would be interested in going to look at scooters...I think it took him awhile to come to terms with my rejection.

Then, a year after graduating I moved to Indianapolis. I moved into an apartment downtown on the canal only five or six blocks from school in one direction and four to work in the other. I sold my car and became dependent on Brian for rides. At the time I figured that I would become a real urbanite and walk to all of my destinations (HA! walking and stilettos do not go hand in hand). It was time to take my dad up on his scooter offer. For some reason or another I had decided that scooters were now super cool and would rock my new ride through the streets of Indy- in my stilettos of course...

Less than a year later it was stolen by a rather large man with an afro out of our hospital's parking lot. Fabulous. I filed a police report, contacted my insurance, etc., etc. I thought my scooter was lost forever when one fateful day our administrative assistant called into the office to alert us that she was in a high speed (my scooter topped out at 35mph) chase with the perpetrator of my scooter. She pulled him over and attempted to do a citizen's arrest using her hospital ID badge (official, I know). Having none of it the guy slammed into her car causing $600 worth of damage and drove off down a one way street. Trudy (our admin assistant) chased him, wrong way and all, until he off-roaded down a hill and onto the canal. By the time the police dispatch had gone out he was gone and my hopes of cruising scooter-style were dashed...

Fast forward to yesterday...I pull out of the Wishard parking lot and am about to turn left onto University when out of the corner of my eye I see a scooter. Could it be? YES! It was my scooter up ahead turning into the 10th street restaurants. What does this nine month pregnant lady do? Follow him of course! I reach into my purse to call 911 only to discover that I had left my cell phone on my bedside table that morning...super. I continue to follow the guy for four u-turns and much illegal driving until he turns down 11th street the wrong way (he was on the sidewalk). I decide it would probably be best not to turn into five lanes of oncoming traffic so I do another u-turn and try to track him down another way...lo and behold by the time I had made it through the lights and onto the right street he was gone. Another missed opportunity to get my scooter back...

That night we go out to eat with Brian's parents. On the way home out of the corner of my eye I spot it...MY SCOOTER! Parked at the Wendy's ONE block from our new house. "Ted, do a u-turn," I screamed from the backseat. Without even knowing why, Ted pulls a u-turn in the middle of Meridian and morphs into a one-man Starsky and Hutch before my eyes. Before the car comes to a complete stop I have miraculously pulled my 200 pound pregnant body out of the backseat and am running (a funny visual I know) towards my parked scooter. Faster than you can say 'Vino' I'm on the phone with the cops reporting my found property. Not long after, a man with more metal in his mouth than a Tiffany's appears to ask why we are all surrounding 'his' scooter. While the Meeks watch the scene unfold I get in the guy's face about where he got it, how long he's had it, does he have proof that it's his? He tells us that he bought it from "a little guy" last month for $150 bucks and starts getting his stuff out of the scooter's trunk...err, seat. In the mean time I'm on the phone with Bill who is going crazy over the fact I have located the lost scooter...With hope in his voice he asks, "So does it look good?" Um, Dad, after a year on the streets of Indianapolis it is no longer in mint condition...

So in the end it turned out to be mine (of course) and is now sitting in our garage- its rightful home. Little does it know that me and my stilettos will probably never sit on it again, but who knows...maybe Parker or Finley will attend University of Wisconsin one day and will need a scooter. That sure would make Grandpa Bill happy...

When we found out we were expecting I immediately subscribed to every pregnancy/child magazine and email and purchased hundreds of dollars worth of pregnancy and labor books...they all say it is typical and normal to be sick of being pregnant as the last month approaches. At the time I couldn't imagine what a horrible mother would be sick of being pregnant! Now I get it. When Brian and I leave the house we make bets on the amount of comments I'll receive, both directly and indirectly (do people think pregnant women are hard of hearing?). A few nights ago we ran to Kroger to buy brownie mix- I really needed a warm brownie! In the time that it took us to get ONE item and checkout I had received three comments. Now we're not talking sweet, respectful oohs and ahhs here, we're talking things like "damn, you're big," "those babies are about to drop out of you," and my personal favorite "how many you got in there." As if I am not aware of how large I am, I must constantly be reminded each and every single time I leave the house. Moral of the story- pregnant women have ears, they can hear quite well, they are also miserably aware of just how large they are. When you see a pregnant lady on the street please resist all urge to talk to her, to comment to her, and heaven forbid to touch her in any way. Just smile, keep walking, and let her eat her brownies in peace...