I am a stay-at-home mother of twin fraternal boys and am attempting to transition from purees. Ugh.
Before having them I wasn't a take-charge woman. When my husband and I did marriage counseling years ago (we were married in the Episcopal Church and it's mandatory before the big day) we took personality tests and the minister laughed at the results. He said I was extremely introverted and my husband was introverted so he was worried we'd never leave the house! Don't worry, we leave but we also enjoy our alone time.
My babies helped me become a better person and grow up. I learned so much about myself over the past 11 months and was forced to change my personality. Instead of being a "whatever you want to do honey" person, I have opinions! It took a bit for my husband to come to terms with this change but he's proud of me. Honestly, I'm not completely different, just a little more self-assertive but still unsure of myself.
With twins you have no time to dawdle. Time waits for no one and neither do twin boys. Not surprisingly, I am in the midst of more change as I near their first birthday. The great big milk transition. No more formula ladies and gentleman.
It sounded so dreamy, especially in the first few months. A life without formula. No more mixing, no more added rice cereal, no more giant grocery bill (although if you think about it ... organic milk ain't cheap with two kids). Now it's on the horizon, it's kind of scary. Their diet needs to consist of real food? Yikes. To further complicate matters, I recently got free samples of toddler formula in the mail. What the hell is this? More formula? So there's also the great toddler formula debate - do you or do you not? Does it help them grow or is this a way for them to milk more money out of my wallet with hype words like DHA.
Purees are so easy. I buy Gerber ... they're fine for the convenience. However, pretty soon I will be needing to buy fresh fruit and produce and serve it to my babies in a form they'll eat with their own hands! Yikes! Right now outside of purees they have cut up banana and cheese once a day, and yogurt, cheerios and rice crackers three times a day. It's just so easy when someone has already pureed the food for you. Also Baby B has recently learned a few new tricks, namely spitting food in my face and also spitting out food (usually the pureed meats) onto his hands and then running his hands through his hair. Geez, what do you do when you totally introduce food? Hose them down out back? Run them through the dishwasher? (Please don't call Child Protective Services. I would never do that ... although one time Baby B had an enormous blowout and I briefly thought about hosing him down).
Anyway, their pediatrician gave me a chart to follow with amounts of formula/breastmilk, cereal, vegetables, fruit, meat and grains they need each month from birth to 12 months - I follow this religiously (a nice way to say I have OCD). I also follow Dr. Sears, a pediatrician and author/co-author of more than 30 parenting books. In "The Baby Book," he lists starter foods and foods acceptable for each stage - i.e. 6-9 months, 9 to 12 months, 12-18 and so on. Sounds pretty easy, right? Well I'm uneasy and, frankly, stressing.
Maybe it's because Baby A had reflux issues out of the blue recently, especially when I didn't think reflux got worse at 9 months after being very manageable. I still tiptoe around the house after bedtime and wait for his cries or my husband to wake me up in the middle of the night because he's crying. So, I worry we may (or may not) have him under control and if I change their food then we will be back at square one.
Also I am a member of a twins group online and some of those women make me feel like my head will explode. The people who think their child has a food allergy when they eat something and don't like it or have trouble digesting food when a newborn. I learned the hard way the inside of babies bodies, namely the digestive system, is still maturing and it doesn't mean they are allergic to milk or your breastmilk is tainted because you had cauliflower for dinner. They were in your body for nine months getting exactly what they needed and now you are shoving milk and rice cereal down their throats. So just breathe.
It's also hard because a lot of mothering is instinctual. They are at the age where they can have mashed foods instead of purees but it depends on whether they are ready. Are they ready? I think so but then maybe they aren't or but maybe they are but then ... Being with them every day, putting them down for every nap, feeding them every meal, kissing every boo-boo, well it makes things seem longer than they are, it makes things seem almost endless but not endless. I have been doing the same schedule for so long that it's almost weird to change things up. Will the Earth stop spinning if they don't follow the schedule? Sometimes I feel it will.
Up in the morning, bottle with three scoops oatmeal/rice cereal, three scoops formula. Digest in activity chairs. Play in playyard until they have been awake for two hours then breakfast. Morning is cutup banana and cheese, handful Cheerios and rice cakes, six spoonfuls oatmeal, eight vegetable, six fruit, three meat and five yogurt. Sit in activity chair. Nap time. Wake up. Bottle, sit in activity chair. Play in playyard until the last one who woke from his nap has been awake for two hours. Lunch. Cheerios and rice cakes, same amount of everything else. Sit in activity chairs. Nap. Wake up. Bottle. If weather is nice go for a walk, if not play in playyard. Dinner, same as lunch. Bathtime then bottle. Sit in activity chair and read books. Goodnight.
I told this to my husband one day and he said, "No wonder you can't fall asleep at night."
Also my organic-loving sisters tell me babies don't need solids until 12 months so ... I guess for the past almost six months I've screwed their lives up! So many different opinions because every baby is so different. Very frustrating! Also, if I ask my husband he answers like he's just waiting for whatever I want to do because I'm in charge. I'm in charge? Why on Earth would anyone allow that?!
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
11 Month Old Fraternal Twin Boys: Reflux Rears Its Ugly Head
I haven't posted in over a month. I am a stay-at-home mom of 11-month-old fraternal twin boys. At the end of the day, I don't feel like blogging about my feelings so I have been a lazy writer lately. I've been dealing with some anxiety lately (my Melatonin, Valerian Root and Calms Forte cocktails no longer put me to sleep) so maybe this blog thing will help me relax.
Baby A has been having reflux issues since late July. Well, he's had silent reflux issues his entire, short life. As a newborn he would make a sour face when the acid came up, his brother would just constantly spit up like Niagara Falls. I've had them on Zantac for a long, long time (switching briefly to Prevacid but going back to Zantac after our insurance would not fork up the dough - it was over $500 a month). So, it was odd when he started having difficulty at night because he's never had difficulty.
I would never tell Baby B this but, honestly, if I had a singleton instead of twins and it was Baby A ... well ... I would be Michelle Duggar (minus the reality show and religion) because he is an easy baby. He only fusses when something is wrong, which isn't often, he eats well, burps well and entertains himself. He slept through the night at about three months or earlier and is a delight. On the other hand Baby B had colic, doesn't like when I leave the room, just recently stopped spitting up and is often fussy - don't get me wrong, I love the boys equally but the truth is the truth. So, when Baby A started screaming in the middle of the night I knew something was wrong.
I enjoy the saying, "Don't get happy," especially because we got happy. The boys were sleeping through the night ... about 7 p.m. to 6 a.m. or so. It was nice. We got used to it. So when Baby A woke up one night, a couple months ago, screaming, it was a shock, especially since he only cries when he is in pain, which isn't often. We thought it was gas so we tried the bicycle legs thing, we tried all sorts of things that you learn from Google at 1 a.m. The first time he cried for two hours. Then it was every other night or so, sometimes he'd go a week, sometimes two hours, sometimes 30 minutes. One time he did it in the middle of the afternoon after lunch so we assumed he'd been overfed.
Finally I noticed he made a swallowing sound and arched his back. After further research via Google we landed on reflux. We never considered this because during the day, especially during naps, he is fine. Also, we didn't think reflux would get worse over the months, we thought it would get better as they start eating solid-ish food and toddler-ing around. So, over the course of weeks, which felt like months, we tinkered with this and that, took him to the doctor and finally think things are OK.
I don't believe in absolutes so I don't think it's just reflux. I also believe mothering is a crapshoot. He also didn't want to go back in his bed and had a bit of separation anxiety/night waking going on. So, his doctor upped his dosage of Zantac (we learned as babies gain weight, their dosages typically need to be increased), elevated his bed with a pillow under one side of the mattress (close to 30 degrees), and we have him (and his brother) sit in their activity centers for 20-25 minutes after their last bottle of the day and before bed - I do bottle, breakfast, nap, bottle, lunch, nap, bottle, dinner, bottle, bedtime over the course of 12 hours, basically a bottle every four hours.
Is it a perfect solution? Who knows. I will be the first to admit defeat. You have to try different things and once you think you figured it out something else will change. Cest la vie.
Otherwise Baby A is a tall, skinny drink of water and laughs at everything with a nerdy "Revenge of the Nerds" style cackle.
Let's not forget about his brother. Baby B is a big boy! He's walking like Frankenstein around the play pen and suffers from separation anxiety during the day but is (knock on wood) a good sleeper at night. He doesn't enjoy when I leave the room and needs a lot more attention than his brother. He's a handful when it's just me putting them to bed (especially during bathtime and anytime I need to feed them bottles at the same time). However, he's growing and is a sweet little guy.
Baby A has been having reflux issues since late July. Well, he's had silent reflux issues his entire, short life. As a newborn he would make a sour face when the acid came up, his brother would just constantly spit up like Niagara Falls. I've had them on Zantac for a long, long time (switching briefly to Prevacid but going back to Zantac after our insurance would not fork up the dough - it was over $500 a month). So, it was odd when he started having difficulty at night because he's never had difficulty.
I would never tell Baby B this but, honestly, if I had a singleton instead of twins and it was Baby A ... well ... I would be Michelle Duggar (minus the reality show and religion) because he is an easy baby. He only fusses when something is wrong, which isn't often, he eats well, burps well and entertains himself. He slept through the night at about three months or earlier and is a delight. On the other hand Baby B had colic, doesn't like when I leave the room, just recently stopped spitting up and is often fussy - don't get me wrong, I love the boys equally but the truth is the truth. So, when Baby A started screaming in the middle of the night I knew something was wrong.
I enjoy the saying, "Don't get happy," especially because we got happy. The boys were sleeping through the night ... about 7 p.m. to 6 a.m. or so. It was nice. We got used to it. So when Baby A woke up one night, a couple months ago, screaming, it was a shock, especially since he only cries when he is in pain, which isn't often. We thought it was gas so we tried the bicycle legs thing, we tried all sorts of things that you learn from Google at 1 a.m. The first time he cried for two hours. Then it was every other night or so, sometimes he'd go a week, sometimes two hours, sometimes 30 minutes. One time he did it in the middle of the afternoon after lunch so we assumed he'd been overfed.
Finally I noticed he made a swallowing sound and arched his back. After further research via Google we landed on reflux. We never considered this because during the day, especially during naps, he is fine. Also, we didn't think reflux would get worse over the months, we thought it would get better as they start eating solid-ish food and toddler-ing around. So, over the course of weeks, which felt like months, we tinkered with this and that, took him to the doctor and finally think things are OK.
I don't believe in absolutes so I don't think it's just reflux. I also believe mothering is a crapshoot. He also didn't want to go back in his bed and had a bit of separation anxiety/night waking going on. So, his doctor upped his dosage of Zantac (we learned as babies gain weight, their dosages typically need to be increased), elevated his bed with a pillow under one side of the mattress (close to 30 degrees), and we have him (and his brother) sit in their activity centers for 20-25 minutes after their last bottle of the day and before bed - I do bottle, breakfast, nap, bottle, lunch, nap, bottle, dinner, bottle, bedtime over the course of 12 hours, basically a bottle every four hours.
Is it a perfect solution? Who knows. I will be the first to admit defeat. You have to try different things and once you think you figured it out something else will change. Cest la vie.
Otherwise Baby A is a tall, skinny drink of water and laughs at everything with a nerdy "Revenge of the Nerds" style cackle.
Let's not forget about his brother. Baby B is a big boy! He's walking like Frankenstein around the play pen and suffers from separation anxiety during the day but is (knock on wood) a good sleeper at night. He doesn't enjoy when I leave the room and needs a lot more attention than his brother. He's a handful when it's just me putting them to bed (especially during bathtime and anytime I need to feed them bottles at the same time). However, he's growing and is a sweet little guy.
Friday, August 1, 2014
Nine Month Old Fraternal Twin Boys: Embrace The Chaos
Life is funny when you are a stay-at-home mom of nine month old twins.
I was sitting here last night after the boys went to sleep (7 p.m. bedtime) thinking to myself wow, I haven't written a blog post in a really, really long time. In actuality, as I found out today, it's only been a month. Why on Earth did it feel like months upon months? It's because that's what this lifestyle will do to you.
Wake up around 6-6:30ish. My husband holds their wiggly bodies as I try to make bottles as quickly as possible. They eat then sit in their activity chairs while I make breakfast and my husband's lunch. He sets up The Octagon (North States Superyard gated play-thingy-ma-bob) before leaving for work. The boys and I play for a little (I'm referee) before Second Breakfast (baby food, oatmeal, yogurt). Then it's nap time for us three Bozos (yes, I nap too). Hopefully I can get about an hour, usually less, sometimes more. On those unfortunate days where one naps much longer than the other, our schedule is funky. Then it's repeat for bottles, activity chairs, Octagon, lunch, then nap time.
I try to keep to the schedule. Sometimes keeping them up a little longer, sometimes not. After their second nap it's bottles and play time then, if the weather is good, we go for a long walk (4-5 miles). Otherwise the elusive third nap is hard to come by because they love sleeping in their stroller, not so much their crib this late in the day.
Then it's dinner, bath time, bottle and bedtime for Bonzos at 7 p.m. In the back of my mind I hope they stay asleep.
Schedule, schedule, schedule - only mothers of multiples understand this I've come to find out.
The boys are in transition from baby food to solid food. We (as in me) started baby food at six months and slowly increased their intake every month (can you tell I'm a little meticulous? Wasn't before I had twins!). Now we were told (by the pediatrician) to buy the same foods they've been eating (sweet potatoes, peas, green beans, carrots, bananas, pears ... ) and cook them and/or mash them up so they are easier to eat.
Every few months I feel uneasy, as I do now. Just when I think I'm getting the hang of something, when I have a system down, when I'm feeling empowered, then change comes. It may be small, it may be large (like giving birth to twins!) but it comes and I must face it head on. They started sitting up, then crawling, then pulling themselves up, now they are hurling themselves forward trying to walk and using me as a jungle gym. Apparently every item in my home is something to chew on for them! "Hmm ... what is this thing? Can I chew on it? Oooo I can chew on it! Yum!" I am also under the sneaking suspicion they are constantly teething (Baby A has six teeth and Baby B is working on his seventh!).
However, it's all part of the process. Embrace the chaos. Embrace the chaos. Scream into a pillow during nap time. Embrace the chaos.
I was sitting here last night after the boys went to sleep (7 p.m. bedtime) thinking to myself wow, I haven't written a blog post in a really, really long time. In actuality, as I found out today, it's only been a month. Why on Earth did it feel like months upon months? It's because that's what this lifestyle will do to you.
Wake up around 6-6:30ish. My husband holds their wiggly bodies as I try to make bottles as quickly as possible. They eat then sit in their activity chairs while I make breakfast and my husband's lunch. He sets up The Octagon (North States Superyard gated play-thingy-ma-bob) before leaving for work. The boys and I play for a little (I'm referee) before Second Breakfast (baby food, oatmeal, yogurt). Then it's nap time for us three Bozos (yes, I nap too). Hopefully I can get about an hour, usually less, sometimes more. On those unfortunate days where one naps much longer than the other, our schedule is funky. Then it's repeat for bottles, activity chairs, Octagon, lunch, then nap time.
I try to keep to the schedule. Sometimes keeping them up a little longer, sometimes not. After their second nap it's bottles and play time then, if the weather is good, we go for a long walk (4-5 miles). Otherwise the elusive third nap is hard to come by because they love sleeping in their stroller, not so much their crib this late in the day.
Then it's dinner, bath time, bottle and bedtime for Bonzos at 7 p.m. In the back of my mind I hope they stay asleep.
Schedule, schedule, schedule - only mothers of multiples understand this I've come to find out.
The boys are in transition from baby food to solid food. We (as in me) started baby food at six months and slowly increased their intake every month (can you tell I'm a little meticulous? Wasn't before I had twins!). Now we were told (by the pediatrician) to buy the same foods they've been eating (sweet potatoes, peas, green beans, carrots, bananas, pears ... ) and cook them and/or mash them up so they are easier to eat.
Every few months I feel uneasy, as I do now. Just when I think I'm getting the hang of something, when I have a system down, when I'm feeling empowered, then change comes. It may be small, it may be large (like giving birth to twins!) but it comes and I must face it head on. They started sitting up, then crawling, then pulling themselves up, now they are hurling themselves forward trying to walk and using me as a jungle gym. Apparently every item in my home is something to chew on for them! "Hmm ... what is this thing? Can I chew on it? Oooo I can chew on it! Yum!" I am also under the sneaking suspicion they are constantly teething (Baby A has six teeth and Baby B is working on his seventh!).
However, it's all part of the process. Embrace the chaos. Embrace the chaos. Scream into a pillow during nap time. Embrace the chaos.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Eight Month Old Fraternal Twin Boys: Please Let Me Know If I've Gone Insane, Thanks
My twin sons are eight months old and I just used a knife to spread peanut butter on pieces of dark chocolate. I ate four pieces -- I'm talking about the king size Hershey's dark chocolate bar so these pieces ain't petite. Am I proud of myself? Not particularly but god almighty I may be losing my mind. No it's not because of the snack I just ate, which I saw a woman eat on an episode of "Cooking Yourself Thin." Of course she ate crap like that but still looked better than me. My body resembles a balloon filled with cottage cheese -- it's not that bad but don't women love to self-hate.
Anyway, I believe I'm losing it because I often don't know what month it is, let alone day. It feels like I'm running a never-ending marathon, racing towards what? A finish line? What's the finish line? I try to fit in things I enjoy or housework in between naps but I find it often leaves me exhausted and, honestly, I don't know what I enjoy anymore.
Sigh.
Day-in-day-out activities are hard enough but then something is thrown into the mix. During the boys midday nap yesterday I took the free time to cook hamburgers -- all you busy moms out there, cook bulk meat ahead of time and you have your protein for many meals in advance! Anyway, turns out the tinfoil I used had a tear because, before I knew it, I noticed smoke. I went into the kitchen and it was foggy. The smoke alarm went off and, of course, woke the boys from their nap. Can I never win? Then that night, when getting their bedroom ready before sleepytime (closing blinds, turning on sound machine), I noticed a bunch of flies hanging out on one of their windows. Seriously disgusting. Long story short, I think someone left the sliding glass door open downstairs and a bunch of flies got in and threw a party at the window getting the most sunlight.
I can't make this stuff up.My husband comes home from work looking like a GQ model and I look like something that crawled out of a sewer. Well, that's a little dramatic but girl I don't look good with my Walmart pajama pants, my tank top from .... well I don't know when or where this was purchased, my greasy glasses and equally greasy hair. I know this is a blip on the radar and I'll probably look back and laugh but I don't have a life, I don't have a identity. I feel like I'm not a person with thoughts, feelings and worth but a slave who must obey and never rest. I'm not allowed to feel because I still have to take care of my kids, whether I'm depressed or not. I must be selfless because they are itty bitty babies who need me.
Sorry for the pessimism but motherhood isn't always fabulous. However, my boys will be nine months old in eight days. Baby A is sitting up and yelling "Baa baa baa" often and Baby B has six teeth (Baby A has two) and is pulling himself up on anything and everything. They're happy (most of the time) and healthy so at least I'm doing something right!
Anyway, I believe I'm losing it because I often don't know what month it is, let alone day. It feels like I'm running a never-ending marathon, racing towards what? A finish line? What's the finish line? I try to fit in things I enjoy or housework in between naps but I find it often leaves me exhausted and, honestly, I don't know what I enjoy anymore.
Sigh.
Day-in-day-out activities are hard enough but then something is thrown into the mix. During the boys midday nap yesterday I took the free time to cook hamburgers -- all you busy moms out there, cook bulk meat ahead of time and you have your protein for many meals in advance! Anyway, turns out the tinfoil I used had a tear because, before I knew it, I noticed smoke. I went into the kitchen and it was foggy. The smoke alarm went off and, of course, woke the boys from their nap. Can I never win? Then that night, when getting their bedroom ready before sleepytime (closing blinds, turning on sound machine), I noticed a bunch of flies hanging out on one of their windows. Seriously disgusting. Long story short, I think someone left the sliding glass door open downstairs and a bunch of flies got in and threw a party at the window getting the most sunlight.
I can't make this stuff up.My husband comes home from work looking like a GQ model and I look like something that crawled out of a sewer. Well, that's a little dramatic but girl I don't look good with my Walmart pajama pants, my tank top from .... well I don't know when or where this was purchased, my greasy glasses and equally greasy hair. I know this is a blip on the radar and I'll probably look back and laugh but I don't have a life, I don't have a identity. I feel like I'm not a person with thoughts, feelings and worth but a slave who must obey and never rest. I'm not allowed to feel because I still have to take care of my kids, whether I'm depressed or not. I must be selfless because they are itty bitty babies who need me.
Sorry for the pessimism but motherhood isn't always fabulous. However, my boys will be nine months old in eight days. Baby A is sitting up and yelling "Baa baa baa" often and Baby B has six teeth (Baby A has two) and is pulling himself up on anything and everything. They're happy (most of the time) and healthy so at least I'm doing something right!
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Eight Month Old Fraternal Twins: Pulling Up On Furniture As My Sanity Weakens
I have eight month old fraternal twin boys -- 36 weeks if we're getting technical. Baby A continues to Army crawl as a means of travel. Baby B ... well he's a different story because even though they are twins they are still different babies. Baby B is pulling himself up on furniture and wobbling his way through life.
Frightening.
Last week he woke us up around 5 a.m. and I went in his room to find him standing in his crib, holding on to the side. What the heck?!? He loves to practice his new trick until he's exhausted.
I finally understand mothers who told me they loved the newborn stage. I wanted to scream in their face as I functioned on a few hours of sleep and struggled to care for a colicky newborn and his loveable but stubborn brother. However, now I somewhat understand. There was a silver lining in the newborn stage: you put them down and they stay there. Yeah, you were exhausted, hormonal and delirious but at least they stayed put.
Now, I was OK with crawling but this new stage resembles death-defying stunts. His legs shake unsteadily yet he slowly continues upward, pulling himself up on the couch, pack n play, activity center ... whatever he can find. He attempts to move sideways like a trapeze artist, slowly grabbing the furniture next to him.
When I put him down for a nap he pulls himself up to a standing position at least five times. My new workout is going downstairs, waiting until he fusses because he knows how to pull himself up but not sit back down, then walking up the stairs, taking his hands and showing him how to bend his knees and sit. Then I go back downstairs and wait for him to fuss again. I can feel the baby weight shedding off my body like a dog shedding hair in the summer! Or not.
Anyway, my husband purchased a play yard off Amazon that's 26 inches high and 34 square feet -- I wish my high school math teacher listened as we attempted to measure their current play area and figure out its square feet. For shame! The play yard can be used indoors and out.
However, I still am confused about this stage. Should I follow him around like a helicopter parent, making sure he doesn't fall and hurt himself - I've saved him from bumps and bruises too many times to count already. Or should I let him figure it out on his own? The problem is I feel like I am neglecting his brother who quietly plays with toys and crawls around. I figure he's old enough to do something, hurt himself, and figure out he shouldn't do that again or is he not old enough yet?
Ah yes the saga continues. Just when I was feeling confident in my mothering abilities one of them has to go and learn a new and dangerous trick. Yikes.
Frightening.
Last week he woke us up around 5 a.m. and I went in his room to find him standing in his crib, holding on to the side. What the heck?!? He loves to practice his new trick until he's exhausted.
I finally understand mothers who told me they loved the newborn stage. I wanted to scream in their face as I functioned on a few hours of sleep and struggled to care for a colicky newborn and his loveable but stubborn brother. However, now I somewhat understand. There was a silver lining in the newborn stage: you put them down and they stay there. Yeah, you were exhausted, hormonal and delirious but at least they stayed put.
Now, I was OK with crawling but this new stage resembles death-defying stunts. His legs shake unsteadily yet he slowly continues upward, pulling himself up on the couch, pack n play, activity center ... whatever he can find. He attempts to move sideways like a trapeze artist, slowly grabbing the furniture next to him.
When I put him down for a nap he pulls himself up to a standing position at least five times. My new workout is going downstairs, waiting until he fusses because he knows how to pull himself up but not sit back down, then walking up the stairs, taking his hands and showing him how to bend his knees and sit. Then I go back downstairs and wait for him to fuss again. I can feel the baby weight shedding off my body like a dog shedding hair in the summer! Or not.
Anyway, my husband purchased a play yard off Amazon that's 26 inches high and 34 square feet -- I wish my high school math teacher listened as we attempted to measure their current play area and figure out its square feet. For shame! The play yard can be used indoors and out.
However, I still am confused about this stage. Should I follow him around like a helicopter parent, making sure he doesn't fall and hurt himself - I've saved him from bumps and bruises too many times to count already. Or should I let him figure it out on his own? The problem is I feel like I am neglecting his brother who quietly plays with toys and crawls around. I figure he's old enough to do something, hurt himself, and figure out he shouldn't do that again or is he not old enough yet?
Ah yes the saga continues. Just when I was feeling confident in my mothering abilities one of them has to go and learn a new and dangerous trick. Yikes.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Almost Eight Month Old Fraternal Twins: Crawling Critters On The Move
My fraternal sons will be eight months old Sunday. I feel like they've been almost eight months old for 8,000 years. We are slowly inching to the one-year ... well, it's not a finish line but it definitely will be a milestone. Well, I'm inching but my sons are crawling, everywhere!
They've been crawling for a while now but their speed recently quickened. They can no longer use bouncy chairs as they learned how to sit up and attempt to escape. No bueno for mama. So, we went from one Baby Einstein activity center thing-a-ma-bob to two. Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy. This new one, bought yesterday, has sound so let's see how long it takes before that drives me nuts.
Yesterday Baby B attempted to pull himself up and, for about 30 seconds, was successful. Frightening. Part of me wants to keep them in the activity centers all the ding dong day but the other, louder part knows it's good for them to crawl around, learn boundaries and get exercise.
Sigh.
I'm out of my league here and overwhelmed. They are also eating baby food three times a day and I've asked advice from friends, family and my doctor but still feel like I'm winging motherhood. It's so crazy I'm allowed to be in charge, I can hardly believe it sometimes.
Just when I got comfortable, things changed. I have a feeling this will happen again and again and again.
They've been crawling for a while now but their speed recently quickened. They can no longer use bouncy chairs as they learned how to sit up and attempt to escape. No bueno for mama. So, we went from one Baby Einstein activity center thing-a-ma-bob to two. Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy. This new one, bought yesterday, has sound so let's see how long it takes before that drives me nuts.
Yesterday Baby B attempted to pull himself up and, for about 30 seconds, was successful. Frightening. Part of me wants to keep them in the activity centers all the ding dong day but the other, louder part knows it's good for them to crawl around, learn boundaries and get exercise.
Sigh.
I'm out of my league here and overwhelmed. They are also eating baby food three times a day and I've asked advice from friends, family and my doctor but still feel like I'm winging motherhood. It's so crazy I'm allowed to be in charge, I can hardly believe it sometimes.
Just when I got comfortable, things changed. I have a feeling this will happen again and again and again.
Monday, June 2, 2014
Almost Eight Month Old Fraternal Twins: Having A Birthday When You're A Mom
I am a stay-at-home mother of almost eight month old fraternal twins and today is my birthday. It's my first birthday where it's not about me.
My day was basically the same except my husband gave me a couple gifts this morning and I get to eat an unhealthy meal tonight - usually we save the bad-for-you food for the weekend. I also got Facebook birthday greetings from my online friends.
Last year I was pregnant so it was an usual birthday (i.e. sans alcohol) but not completely different like this year. When I was pregnant people told me to soak up the love because once the babies came out people wouldn't care about you anymore. I didn't think much about this because I was more focused on growing humans inside me! I'm sure I've felt unnoticed over the past eight months but it wasn't until my birthday that I finally felt like the invisible woman.
I am the invisible woman. I am braless in pajamas with dried oatmeal on my shirt. My hair is falling out of the bun I put it in at 5 a.m. I have not brushed my teeth or washed my face.
I am listening to the baby monitor, waiting for Baby B to wake since he's been asleep almost two hours. Sounds nice, right? Wrong. I have twins. Just because Baby B snoozes doesn't mean Baby A snoozes. They went down for their first nap together but Baby B decided 30 minutes was adequate while Baby A went for the hour-and-a-half snoozeapalooza. So their schedule is off today. As far as the second nap of the day, Baby A has only been napping for a half an hour. When's my nap? No nap for invisible with food to cook, laundry to do, blah blah blah. The coffee is coursing through my veins at a slow purr.
I figure if I started writing this blog, Baby B would wake but he's still asleep.
Did I say I was tired? Women told me in a couple years I'll have my birthdays back, whatever that means. It's hard to come to terms with this but I won't have anything back. Nothing is coming back. No 9-5 hustle with carefree weekends. No lazy wondering what to make for dinner and lounging while watching a television show in the evening. I can hardly make it to 8:30 p.m. but, in a cruel twist, can't fall asleep until at least 10 p.m. No sleeping in. No wandering around Target for fun. Do I want it back? No, especially if that means giving up my children. I love them so much love isn't the word to capture the feeling. Do I miss being carefree, or at least reminiscing on how carefree my life was even though I didn't know at the time? Of course I do.
Happy birthday to mommy, happy birthday to me.
My day was basically the same except my husband gave me a couple gifts this morning and I get to eat an unhealthy meal tonight - usually we save the bad-for-you food for the weekend. I also got Facebook birthday greetings from my online friends.
Last year I was pregnant so it was an usual birthday (i.e. sans alcohol) but not completely different like this year. When I was pregnant people told me to soak up the love because once the babies came out people wouldn't care about you anymore. I didn't think much about this because I was more focused on growing humans inside me! I'm sure I've felt unnoticed over the past eight months but it wasn't until my birthday that I finally felt like the invisible woman.
I am the invisible woman. I am braless in pajamas with dried oatmeal on my shirt. My hair is falling out of the bun I put it in at 5 a.m. I have not brushed my teeth or washed my face.
I am listening to the baby monitor, waiting for Baby B to wake since he's been asleep almost two hours. Sounds nice, right? Wrong. I have twins. Just because Baby B snoozes doesn't mean Baby A snoozes. They went down for their first nap together but Baby B decided 30 minutes was adequate while Baby A went for the hour-and-a-half snoozeapalooza. So their schedule is off today. As far as the second nap of the day, Baby A has only been napping for a half an hour. When's my nap? No nap for invisible with food to cook, laundry to do, blah blah blah. The coffee is coursing through my veins at a slow purr.
I figure if I started writing this blog, Baby B would wake but he's still asleep.
Did I say I was tired? Women told me in a couple years I'll have my birthdays back, whatever that means. It's hard to come to terms with this but I won't have anything back. Nothing is coming back. No 9-5 hustle with carefree weekends. No lazy wondering what to make for dinner and lounging while watching a television show in the evening. I can hardly make it to 8:30 p.m. but, in a cruel twist, can't fall asleep until at least 10 p.m. No sleeping in. No wandering around Target for fun. Do I want it back? No, especially if that means giving up my children. I love them so much love isn't the word to capture the feeling. Do I miss being carefree, or at least reminiscing on how carefree my life was even though I didn't know at the time? Of course I do.
Happy birthday to mommy, happy birthday to me.
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