Down. Discouraged. Tired. Stressed. Weary. All words that can unfortunately be used to describe my mood the past week. Or month. Okay, okay....the past few months. In case you haven't noticed, I've taken a hiatus from the blogging world.
To be gut level honest with you all (and when I say "all" I really mean my mom because I'm pretty sure she's the only one who is periodically checking to see if I've posted anything new since it has been so long...) I haven't written because I simply haven't wanted to write what was in my head. Writing brings my thoughts to life and affirms what is really going on inside. Writing, for me, is a way of working through things and keeping the positivity. It is my therapy of sorts. It is the way I flesh out everything that I'm dealing with and organize it into a positive thought or idea. It's a way for me to make sense of the craziness and remain positive. Do you see a theme here? All positive. But writing also is truthful. It is my life and who I am. And I just haven't felt much like digging too far to see what was inside there for a while. Not feeling very positive and not really wanting to share that I wasn't feeling very positive.
Before I sat down to write this I read my last post from mid-April - about setting my weight goal (which by the way I didn't get to see myself hit because our basement flooded and I lost the Wii for a month and by the time I got it back I had a sinus infection and had to go on strong antibiotics and stop pumping, thus gaining the few pounds I lost for my birthday....sigh). Anyway, I read the last post and I was still channeling positive, peppy Carrie. Still myself.
And them somewhere along the line I stopped being able to conjure up a genuine positive mantra after the end of a long day...and a long week...and endless strings of long days and long weeks. No good. If you know me (why do I always say that because really why would you be reading this if you didn't know me...I am not that cool or interesting!!??!!!) ...so if you know me...you know that I am positive. It is that simple, really. And to be Carrie but NOT be positive? It's not a pretty picture. Just ask my husband. Or my sister. Or the many people who have seen me grumpy in the last two months. HAHA.
I wouldn't pretend to know what it is like to battle clinical depression. I wouldn't pretend to know what true post-partum blues feel like. But I can say with absolute certainty that I do not know another time in my life where I have faced such a heavy burden without my normal cheery nature. Like a cloud over my mood where no sunshine breaks through. And that's just sad.
I could write about the wonderful blessings I have been given in my three kids. I could tell you that the twins are amazing bundles of energy and full of smiles and personality. I could shriek with happiness that the babies are finally, finally, FINALLY sleeping through the night. I could go on and on about the tender-hearted four year old who is growing up so fast, stepping up as the playful and helpful big brother that we knew he would be. I could write about how amazing my husband has been with never tiring and never stopping and never failing to live this crazy life with me and my less than stellar mood lately. I could describe how I felt to cross the finish line when I ran my first ever 5K recently. I could write about how thankful I am that my sister is still making it work, living here to help out (without a cozy home or a bathroom for much of the last two months). I could write about my parents...I am literally tearing up as I even type this...without whom I would not be able to sustain my family or continue on...they have been so tremendous beyond words and provide what I feel incapable of asking for. I could write. I could. But for today I'm not. I'm going to write what's been on my heart....which is NOT (much to my dismay) positive. It is instead a wistful and weary recognition that my life is totally and completely overwhelming.
There I said it. I equate my life right now to drowning. I am swimming frantically, barely able to keep my head above water. Barely making it...surviving by thrashing my legs in an angry tread and forcing my lungs to get that air for another day....and then every so often I'm dunked. Completely under. And I come up sputtering and gasping for air and try to tread water yet again. It has been a basement flood. And illness. And financial strain. And car trouble. And more basement flood. And more car trouble. And more. And more. And more. Just when I think it cannot possibly get any worse I find myself dunked again. SIGH.
Perhaps the hardest part of all of this for me has been a loneliness I cannot describe. By very nature I'm not one to need others. I get through things. I'm the one that people know if they can't get to or call back or stay in touch with that I will be the one that is okay. The one that isn't needy. The one that you don't worry about really truly needing you because they put on their happy face and push through. It's okay. It's by my own design. I don't WANT to need other people!! But this self-sufficiency really backfires sometimes. Like lately. Dangit, there are times I just need to be needy and have that just be okay and have those people rush in and save the day because I really need it.....
So why now? Why decide to write now? Why depress you all with this dark version of Carrie you all probably hoped didn't exist? Believe it or not because I'm tired of it. I'm just tired. I am in a funk. A bad one. I can't seem to shake it and some days I just don't even care...yikes that is scary! I realize at work this probably doesn't show much. I may be a tad more cynical but for the most part my work requires an attitude of positivity. And so I deliver. Day after day. For 40ish hours. And then I come home. And unleash the beast...hahahahaha. Okay, I was getting kind of really dark there and I had to lighten it up a bit. But seriously I bet Ben would describe it like that. I am not always a nice person to be around right now. Thank you family for putting up with me!!!
I'm writing in hopes that getting this out on paper (errrr....computer screen) will help me begin to overcome. Help give me a boost. Help get out the negativity and start turning things around. I realized that something had to change this weekend. I spent the weekend doing things that would normally make me thrilled...finishing a book, being super productive, getting some actual down time, etc. All of it....still brooding Carrie. BLAH. So sick of it. Then Sunday morning at church I loved the message. All about David and how he firmly trusted God. Knew that God would provide and deliver and that His God was infinitely stronger and better than anything that came his way. Our associate pastor who was preaching made a quick comment that rattled me for probably the first time in two months of this crazy haze I've been in....he said, "Every time my wife and I are faced with stress or difficulty or a situation we have no idea how we are going to deal with we get out our list. Our list of the blessings. Of the times when God provided food and life and health, etc. And we know that despite the scary situation we are in, God has done it before and will do it again. And we are still scared. But we trust." I left church thinking all day, "Where is my trust?" I know it. I know better than I ever could have imagined how much God has provided for me and the numerous blessings he has given me. Some days though, it's easy to forget that. And I guess I have. Even still, knowing that....it's hard. It's hard to be positive. It may not be a mark of high faith, but I do believe it is the mark of humanity. Life is just pretty hard sometimes. And while we know what we should feel and think and believe...it's not always that easy to live out. But we have to keep pressing on. And I guess that's what I've been struggling with.
I spent the evening last night with a good friend who had a baby less than a week ago. As we talked breastfeeding challenges and newborn crying I had an overwhelming flood of (GASP, SHOCK, HORROR) positivity. Genuine positivity. I came home and found Ben downstairs watching TV. I laid down on the couch next to where he sat, closed my eyes and grabbed his hand and just sighed. I laughed a little and said, "Well, baby....it doesn't feel like it. It really doesn't. But we've made it. We are out of the newborn baby craziness. Do you remember what it was like? We really have made it through." It was the perfect reminder.
It hasn't slowed down. It hasn't really gotten easier...just new challenges like corralling the mobile infants and dodging carrots spitting from babies' mouths. There's not much that I can truly say is going good right now.
But still. At the end of the day. At the end of the week. At the end of the month...or two. We're still here. We are still surviving. We may be desperately treading water. We may be sputtering a bit after a quick dunk from time to time. But you know what? Our muscles are growing after swimming so long. And our lungs are holding more and more air than we ever thought possible. We're getting stronger.
And we aren't dead yet.
Hey! I just found something to be positive about.... :)
Monday, June 18, 2012
Monday, April 16, 2012
The Goal
I like goals. Not news to many. It's pretty much my thing.
As an example I made a list 20 lines long on Friday night. Sam spent the weekend in STL for a little one-on-one attention time with the grandparents and I knew we needed to take advantage of the baby naps to get some things accomplished. How thrilled was I to discover last night before crashing that all but 2 things were checked off!
Goals are great. A guide. A marker. A milestone to reach.
That's why when I subconsciously set a sleep goal many moons ago I thought surely by 6 months old, these babies would be drifting into la la land and staying there for the standard 10-12 hours a night. Not so much. One week away from having 6 month old twins and I am still only getting about 6 hours of sleep a night. Ouch. They normally wake once...or twice. And the occasional 10 times a night (oy vey!)
And so....since my sleep goals have died a painfully slow unmerciful death, I have restored this weekend to set another goal. 20 days until I turn 30. 2.9 pounds to lose and I will officially be back to my pre-twins weight. I really want to make it by my birthday, and I figure posting it on here will at least force me to think twice...or three or four times...before downing the cupcakes. Or candy. Or muffins. Eeek. I love food.
I started my Saturday off with a 3am wake up call followed by four hours of baby crying and after the first morning feeding I headed off to the gym for really the first time in almost a year. I quit my membership last March when I found out I was pregnant but I really need to do some hard core cardio to whip away those last 3 pounds. So to the non-membership freely accessible indoor track I go. Proud to say I ran a whole mile! I couldn't believe how great it felt. I am not a runner. Never liked it. But in college I ran a daily 5-10K. Seriously. I look back on that time (and my 115lb physique along with a size 2 wardrobe) with disbelief. I don't know how I did it. I certainly don't have the time to devote to that kind of exercise now. And I had much more food resolve then. Why? Who knows.
I am never going to be 115lb again. I'm okay with that. I'm going for a solid 130. Yes, that's right. I just did it. Committed the No No. I said my goal weight out loud. So if you are keeping track that is 130 by 30. Ironically I'm sitting at 133. Which is good! Don't get me wrong. This is my exact weight before I got pregnant with Sam pretty much exactly 5 years ago. Not too shabby after having three kids! BUT. I was 130 on the dot before becoming a cooker for two babies. And I want to get there again. Heck, even a little lower than that would be nice. Never again will I see below 125 I'm thinking....I can't sacrifice my sweets.
Hardest part for me in this goal is not snacking on crap food. Since I went back to work, I've tried to be consistent about taking my lunches. Wraps or PB&J are on the menu most days, and I think if I really stick to that for the next few weeks I can do this! So, please say a prayer and do a cheer.
I had several goals to reach before I was 30 and I might actually shed some happy tears if I can make this particular one happen in 20 days. And yes, this does mean I will be pigging out on May 8....what else are birthdays for???
As an example I made a list 20 lines long on Friday night. Sam spent the weekend in STL for a little one-on-one attention time with the grandparents and I knew we needed to take advantage of the baby naps to get some things accomplished. How thrilled was I to discover last night before crashing that all but 2 things were checked off!
Goals are great. A guide. A marker. A milestone to reach.
That's why when I subconsciously set a sleep goal many moons ago I thought surely by 6 months old, these babies would be drifting into la la land and staying there for the standard 10-12 hours a night. Not so much. One week away from having 6 month old twins and I am still only getting about 6 hours of sleep a night. Ouch. They normally wake once...or twice. And the occasional 10 times a night (oy vey!)
And so....since my sleep goals have died a painfully slow unmerciful death, I have restored this weekend to set another goal. 20 days until I turn 30. 2.9 pounds to lose and I will officially be back to my pre-twins weight. I really want to make it by my birthday, and I figure posting it on here will at least force me to think twice...or three or four times...before downing the cupcakes. Or candy. Or muffins. Eeek. I love food.
I started my Saturday off with a 3am wake up call followed by four hours of baby crying and after the first morning feeding I headed off to the gym for really the first time in almost a year. I quit my membership last March when I found out I was pregnant but I really need to do some hard core cardio to whip away those last 3 pounds. So to the non-membership freely accessible indoor track I go. Proud to say I ran a whole mile! I couldn't believe how great it felt. I am not a runner. Never liked it. But in college I ran a daily 5-10K. Seriously. I look back on that time (and my 115lb physique along with a size 2 wardrobe) with disbelief. I don't know how I did it. I certainly don't have the time to devote to that kind of exercise now. And I had much more food resolve then. Why? Who knows.
I am never going to be 115lb again. I'm okay with that. I'm going for a solid 130. Yes, that's right. I just did it. Committed the No No. I said my goal weight out loud. So if you are keeping track that is 130 by 30. Ironically I'm sitting at 133. Which is good! Don't get me wrong. This is my exact weight before I got pregnant with Sam pretty much exactly 5 years ago. Not too shabby after having three kids! BUT. I was 130 on the dot before becoming a cooker for two babies. And I want to get there again. Heck, even a little lower than that would be nice. Never again will I see below 125 I'm thinking....I can't sacrifice my sweets.
Hardest part for me in this goal is not snacking on crap food. Since I went back to work, I've tried to be consistent about taking my lunches. Wraps or PB&J are on the menu most days, and I think if I really stick to that for the next few weeks I can do this! So, please say a prayer and do a cheer.
I had several goals to reach before I was 30 and I might actually shed some happy tears if I can make this particular one happen in 20 days. And yes, this does mean I will be pigging out on May 8....what else are birthdays for???
Friday, March 30, 2012
The Fortune
I should have known. That's all I'm sayin'. About a month ago we enjoyed a delicious takeout meal from our fav Chinese place, and my ominous fortune read: Be prepared to modify your plans. Oh how I did not realize the full impact that statement would have on our lives just a few days down the road. Ironically I celebrated the fortune at the time by displaying it prominantly on my fridge for the world to see. HA.And now here we are. With five month old twins. Having survived a serious sleep relapse, three people at the house with double ear infections, a scary (albiet short) stint in the hospital due to RSV and pneumonia with Gabe and the crazy whirlwind of the life we live.
It has taken me a full month to recover, so to speak. Have to say that I have been extremely miserable, down and borderline depressed in these past few weeks. The hospital stay really took its toll on me, and the subsequent lack of sleep for several weeks after was grueling.
Happy to report that I think we have finally caught back up to where we were...which is twins up once at night to eat but generally happy, growing, slobbering and giggling boys. Whew.
And I am finally back to the land of the living. Seems like this week my biggest problem has been that I've failed to get up at 4am like usual to workout, so my exercise regiment is suffering a bit. Need to step it up before the big 3-0 birthday in a few short weeks. My goal was to be back to my pre-pregnancy weight by my birthday. Going to need to eat way less cupcakes and really focus on working out if that has any hope of happening. ;)
A friend called recently when I was having a particularly rough day and I actually admitted that I was down....at least down for me. I am so thankful for her. Just calling to ask how I really was and offering to help seemed to snap me from the pity party and bring my attitude into "check." No, I haven't had the greatest few weeks but I am incredibly blessed. To hear myself actually tell her that I was down was just a rude awakening. In the few days that followed I thought about that conversation multiple times. She asked what she could do to help, very genuinely. And I realized that none of my stress or frustration or even down moments are caused by something anyone else can control or help with. Maybe that is what turned on the lightbulb for me. If no one else can help, then I am the only one who has to make the decision in my head to push past the negativity and embrace it. Bring it on! I can't let myself wallow in the valleys. That's just not who I am.
So I am back (thank you Mandy for the wake up call, literally!). And still tired, although skipping workouts has helped me catch up on some great sleep. But next week begins a new childcare schedule with a nanny and daycare combo, so my house needs to be in tip top shape and I will be rising with the dawn (or before) at 4am yet again come Monday to prepare for the day.
I am reminded this week how much God carries and sustains us. Even when we don't see. He puts things in our lives to make us stronger. Despite our reservations or apprehension. Despite our fears or failures. I need to embrace who He made me to be and walk strongly whatever is ahead, knowing that I'm going to look back and think how I had no idea the blessings that were ahead.
Plans? What are those. As Tokyo Mater epically utters, "I've been modified!"
Monday, March 12, 2012
The Crying
Will it ever end?
I seriously wish I could write a post one of these days that was super-Carrie-positive. Just not happening right now!!!!
The crying. Oh my. The crying. It is rough. We hit a particular bad patch tonight. Two hours of sobbing and finally Gabe was exhausted and fell asleep. That was with holding him, patting him, rocking him, laying him down, picking him up, putting him in the swing, pacifier, no pacifier, bottle, no bottle, blanket to cuddle...nothing worked. He's feeling under the weather and crying makes the cold, congestion and coughing just that much worse. No fun at all. Toby held out for a while and then gave Gabe a run for the crying prize when his stomach started cramping after the bedtime bottle. Thank you acid reflux. SIGH. Please, please, please. Babies give us a break. We are tired. We are cranky. We love you dearly, but we just can't take the crying. Someday I know we will look back on this with fondness (and so very thankful it is over) but wow. It is just rough at times. Ben said today he actually dreads coming home some days.
April asks me regularly if I am crying on the inside. Yes. Yes, I am. You just do what you have to do. And yes it is crazy. And hard. And frustrating. And wonderful (of course). I love my kids. But DANG. This crying is rough.
This weekend was one for the record books. And not the good, world record kind. No. This was the....please, GOD, let us never have another whirlwind of crying, puny sicko babies again. (Don't worry I know full well we will....but a girl can hope!)
Back to the crying....or....not crying....or not letting the baby cry.....
I have held off posting about this particular subject for quite some time, but frankly I'm in a funk and I just can't help myself I suppose. Please do not take offense. I am so sick and tired of feeling like I am a bad mom for the way I raise my kids, the choices I make and the things we do as a family. I appreciate all the mommas, my friends and family both, who have chosen to do things a little differently. Some I may think, "Hmm...well that's not the way I'd do it." But seriously, people, we have got to stop with the hard core judgment. I still love you. I still love your kids.
A college friend's facebook post sums up my thoughts perfectly and I cannot help but publish here: Women. We have to stop this silliness about the best way to be a mom. Natural birth or epidural, breast feeding or formula, cloth diapering or disposable, attachment parenting or sleep training, making baby food or buying it. These aren't questions on college applications. They don't separate the axe murders from the philanthropist. Don't shake your baby or put it in the dryer. Just give it some some love and attention and then have a glass of wine.
I love this. Truly. Love this. Lately in my life it seems like everywhere I turn there is pressure to do things a certain way, but I am not naive. Nor am I a bad mom!!!!! I don't do things just because other people do. I research. I plan. I make calculated, rational decisions about life. And so if I choose to breastfeed it is because I want to and feel like it is the best decision for me. Not because I think every mom who does formula is somehow damaging her child forever. Because with Sam I only nursed for 5 weeks. I've pumped for almost 5 months with the twins but according to some that's still not good enough because I'm not actually nursing. Come ON people. Then another one. Diapers. I admire those who tackle the cloth diapering challenge. I love that it is even fun for many, but I decided that I just am not hopping on that train. Something has to give in my life and that is it. We have not purchased a single diaper since the twins were born. I have thousands. I do mean thousands of diapers in my basement from gifts. We may actually make it to nearly the twins' first birthdays before needing to purchase diapers. No joke. And I am going to happily put those disposables on my little ones' behinds not only for my sanity but also because it is O.K.
And finally my favorite. The colossal choice: attachment or not? You all know my stance here. After TONS of research and a million other reasons I lean to the sleep training way. Basically we just do a general routine through the day of eat, play and then sleep. But nothing about having twins has followed any book or plan. It's this weird hybrid of things that work. I just think it is impossible to hold both my babies at the same time and to make sure they don't cry because if they do they are somehow learning I don't love them. Just impossible. If I try to achieve this "no crying" and "holding" or "feeding" every time they protest it will literally be impossible with two babies. At the same time, I can't do the "cry it out" method because they wake each other up, etc. I do know many a happy child that has matriculated from a loving home that leans along the attachment parenting lines, but to be honest, I feel sometimes like these mommas (many of them my friends or family) are so against doing it any other way that my choices and the results are completely void. Samuel is an amazing, happy, well adjusted and just all around great kid. We for sure did sleep training and "everything else wrong." But he is independent. AND he knows I love him. Safe and secure. Knows what to expect and when to expect it. Knows I will always take care of his every need but also knows he can comfort himself on his own. He's not a robot. He is a sensitive and caring little dude. I just cannot look at Sam and think that somehow sleep training (or any philosophy other than attachment parenting) is fundamentally wrong. There are different types of mommies. And different types of kiddos. I am doing the best I can with what I have, armed with lots of research, many examples all along the spectrum and have made my decisions. There. I said it. Don't hate me please. But please don't expect me to love all your links to the dangers of formula, the poison of Babywise and the quantity of diapers in landfills. Sometimes it is a little offensive. I'm not a bad mom. Why do I keep having to defend myself?
EEEEK. That was a little to harsh. And honest. I have wanted to write that for months but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Then I thought...wait, everyone else does! At least my blog is (fairly) private. If you choose to read and you don't agree, you don't even have to tell me .... or you can! Either way. ;) I still love you all!
So I guess instead of "The Crying" I should have labeled this post "The Brutal Honesty." The truth is I am just a working mom doing the best I can with what I have been blessed with. Some days it feels like my crazy life is simply overwhelming and impossible. BUT. Despite the lack of sleep. And lack of time. And lack of everything else....we keep going. Hoping each day is better than the previous. Happy that the twins are here. We hug our kiddos, look around our messy house and learn to love our new life just a little bit more each day.
And someone...please....give me that glass of wine! (Okay...not really. I'm not a drinker...you know that). In my case I'd end the rant with "Don't shake your baby or put it in the dryer. Just give it some some love and attention (put the kids to bed, go downstairs in peace) and then have some ice cream...or cookies...or cupcakes...(with milk)!"
I seriously wish I could write a post one of these days that was super-Carrie-positive. Just not happening right now!!!!
The crying. Oh my. The crying. It is rough. We hit a particular bad patch tonight. Two hours of sobbing and finally Gabe was exhausted and fell asleep. That was with holding him, patting him, rocking him, laying him down, picking him up, putting him in the swing, pacifier, no pacifier, bottle, no bottle, blanket to cuddle...nothing worked. He's feeling under the weather and crying makes the cold, congestion and coughing just that much worse. No fun at all. Toby held out for a while and then gave Gabe a run for the crying prize when his stomach started cramping after the bedtime bottle. Thank you acid reflux. SIGH. Please, please, please. Babies give us a break. We are tired. We are cranky. We love you dearly, but we just can't take the crying. Someday I know we will look back on this with fondness (and so very thankful it is over) but wow. It is just rough at times. Ben said today he actually dreads coming home some days.
April asks me regularly if I am crying on the inside. Yes. Yes, I am. You just do what you have to do. And yes it is crazy. And hard. And frustrating. And wonderful (of course). I love my kids. But DANG. This crying is rough.
This weekend was one for the record books. And not the good, world record kind. No. This was the....please, GOD, let us never have another whirlwind of crying, puny sicko babies again. (Don't worry I know full well we will....but a girl can hope!)
Back to the crying....or....not crying....or not letting the baby cry.....
I have held off posting about this particular subject for quite some time, but frankly I'm in a funk and I just can't help myself I suppose. Please do not take offense. I am so sick and tired of feeling like I am a bad mom for the way I raise my kids, the choices I make and the things we do as a family. I appreciate all the mommas, my friends and family both, who have chosen to do things a little differently. Some I may think, "Hmm...well that's not the way I'd do it." But seriously, people, we have got to stop with the hard core judgment. I still love you. I still love your kids.
A college friend's facebook post sums up my thoughts perfectly and I cannot help but publish here: Women. We have to stop this silliness about the best way to be a mom. Natural birth or epidural, breast feeding or formula, cloth diapering or disposable, attachment parenting or sleep training, making baby food or buying it. These aren't questions on college applications. They don't separate the axe murders from the philanthropist. Don't shake your baby or put it in the dryer. Just give it some some love and attention and then have a glass of wine.
I love this. Truly. Love this. Lately in my life it seems like everywhere I turn there is pressure to do things a certain way, but I am not naive. Nor am I a bad mom!!!!! I don't do things just because other people do. I research. I plan. I make calculated, rational decisions about life. And so if I choose to breastfeed it is because I want to and feel like it is the best decision for me. Not because I think every mom who does formula is somehow damaging her child forever. Because with Sam I only nursed for 5 weeks. I've pumped for almost 5 months with the twins but according to some that's still not good enough because I'm not actually nursing. Come ON people. Then another one. Diapers. I admire those who tackle the cloth diapering challenge. I love that it is even fun for many, but I decided that I just am not hopping on that train. Something has to give in my life and that is it. We have not purchased a single diaper since the twins were born. I have thousands. I do mean thousands of diapers in my basement from gifts. We may actually make it to nearly the twins' first birthdays before needing to purchase diapers. No joke. And I am going to happily put those disposables on my little ones' behinds not only for my sanity but also because it is O.K.
And finally my favorite. The colossal choice: attachment or not? You all know my stance here. After TONS of research and a million other reasons I lean to the sleep training way. Basically we just do a general routine through the day of eat, play and then sleep. But nothing about having twins has followed any book or plan. It's this weird hybrid of things that work. I just think it is impossible to hold both my babies at the same time and to make sure they don't cry because if they do they are somehow learning I don't love them. Just impossible. If I try to achieve this "no crying" and "holding" or "feeding" every time they protest it will literally be impossible with two babies. At the same time, I can't do the "cry it out" method because they wake each other up, etc. I do know many a happy child that has matriculated from a loving home that leans along the attachment parenting lines, but to be honest, I feel sometimes like these mommas (many of them my friends or family) are so against doing it any other way that my choices and the results are completely void. Samuel is an amazing, happy, well adjusted and just all around great kid. We for sure did sleep training and "everything else wrong." But he is independent. AND he knows I love him. Safe and secure. Knows what to expect and when to expect it. Knows I will always take care of his every need but also knows he can comfort himself on his own. He's not a robot. He is a sensitive and caring little dude. I just cannot look at Sam and think that somehow sleep training (or any philosophy other than attachment parenting) is fundamentally wrong. There are different types of mommies. And different types of kiddos. I am doing the best I can with what I have, armed with lots of research, many examples all along the spectrum and have made my decisions. There. I said it. Don't hate me please. But please don't expect me to love all your links to the dangers of formula, the poison of Babywise and the quantity of diapers in landfills. Sometimes it is a little offensive. I'm not a bad mom. Why do I keep having to defend myself?
EEEEK. That was a little to harsh. And honest. I have wanted to write that for months but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Then I thought...wait, everyone else does! At least my blog is (fairly) private. If you choose to read and you don't agree, you don't even have to tell me .... or you can! Either way. ;) I still love you all!
So I guess instead of "The Crying" I should have labeled this post "The Brutal Honesty." The truth is I am just a working mom doing the best I can with what I have been blessed with. Some days it feels like my crazy life is simply overwhelming and impossible. BUT. Despite the lack of sleep. And lack of time. And lack of everything else....we keep going. Hoping each day is better than the previous. Happy that the twins are here. We hug our kiddos, look around our messy house and learn to love our new life just a little bit more each day.
And someone...please....give me that glass of wine! (Okay...not really. I'm not a drinker...you know that). In my case I'd end the rant with "Don't shake your baby or put it in the dryer. Just give it some some love and attention (put the kids to bed, go downstairs in peace) and then have some ice cream...or cookies...or cupcakes...(with milk)!"
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
The Circus
My oh my! What a life we are living. Yesterday Ben said he keeps having to remind himself this isn't punishment. HA! I agreed. We know this is a blessing, but it is HARD WORK.So I'm the ringleader and my life is a circus. I apologize for the delay in posting - it seems that working full time and caring for my family has left me little time for....well, anything else!?! I realized today that my last blog post was the week before I went to work - a telling sign for what was to come, I suppose.
My answer for people who ask me how things are going is, "Good." I usually follow that up with a laugh and something along the lines of, "It's an adventure." Truthfully I don't know what else to say. Life with twin babies is just seriously insane. Most days I barely blink and it's time for a few hours of sleep again before we start this circus over the next day.
I am just weary. WARNING that this post is probably not a reflection of my most positive moments. ;) Read on if you dare....
Pumping at work is probably the thing I detest the most. Thankfully I have an office door that I can close and do my thing, but taking time every few hours to pump just wreaks havoc on meeting schedules, pop in visitors and a host of other things that just aren't conducive to my job on a daily basis. Not to mention that I periodically leave my pump parts sterilizing bags in the microwave and then have to rush embarrassingly to get them when someone needs to use it for food prep. I know it is my "right" to pump at work. I know it is good. I know it is nothing I have to be ashamed or embarrassed about. But in reality it just isn't something I enjoy or that works with the flow of my workday and it is the single biggest frustration and annoyance in my life. Nonetheless, I have continued. Five weeks and counting back at work and pumping on a daily basis, lugging my gear back and forth. Only a few days of torture when back to back meetings ran long despite my "scheduled" pumping breaks and I had a 5 hour or 6 hour or 7 hour stretch without relief. SIGH! And still I continue. Mostly because it is good for babies. Also because it is beneficial financially and only a tiny tiny bit because it burns calories and I am stress eating and finding it difficult to fit in more than 3 short workouts a week!!!!
I know I could stop pumping anytime. I really do know. But it isn't hurting me physically and it is SO good for the twins to have immunities and the health benefits of breastmilk I just cannot stop yet. I am aiming for 6 months....hope I can make it! In some small way I feel like I owe it to the twins to keep it up, to offer them the best I can when the rest of our life is a mess.
What else is going on in my world? Oh yes, logistics. I am not joking when I say I'm the ringleader of this circus. Up at 4am when the babies eat and I can't go back to sleep if I am going to be ready to walk out the door at 7am. Loads of baby dishes and laundry in the wee morning hours. Packing lunches, making breakfast, making bottles for the day. Loading up the diaper bag, compiling pumping gear, getting ready.....TIRED.
Sometimes when I walk in my house at the end of the day I feel like I'm seeing the last show of the circus with the ground littered with popcorn and peanuts...and elephant poo. There are dirty diapers, dishes, laundry and just stuff everywhere at my house. It is literally a constant battle to keep things clean and I'm failing miserably I fear. We play catch up on Wednesday nights while Sam is at church and on the weekends, but every moment in between we are BARELY keeping things running....my my. Again, feeling weary, overwhelmed and just tired. Ben and I keep passing each other coming and going and just looking at each other solemnly and repeating to each other, "Sorry life is so crazy right now."
There are bright spots, thankfully! The babies are smiling and giggling. They are responding to us and they definitely have their own personalities!!! It is really fun to see their differences emerge. :) Sam turned four and he is an amazing kid. Our family is complete and it is a true joy to experience.The circus is hard on our marriage. Not in a "fighting all the time and tense" kind of way but a "we have so much going on we barely talk" kind of way. That's probably one of the roughest parts of this whole craziness. Every single moment of every day, including the middle of the night, we are just running on adrenaline and barely acknowledging each other. We help each other accomplish tasks like dinner or baby feedings, all while directing traffic, holding fussy little ones and playing Peter Pan pretend with Sam.
We got to go out last weekend to dinner and a movie and I thoroughly enjoyed our adult conversation. We even held hands during the movie...I know!!! (teeeheeeheee....physical touch?) I know, I know. What a dream! HAHA.
On the way home from the movie we talked about how crazy our lives were. How we know it is crazy and it is just our life right now. We know it will eventually get easier and things will even out a bit. We reminisced a bit about our carefree 'butterfly-in-the-stomach' just falling in love stage and how blissfully happy we were. As I reflected on that time with a smile, I couldn't help but think about the circus. We had NO clue 12 years ago when we met that this would be our life. We had NO clue 9 years ago when we got married that we'd be running the twin show and so incredibly stressed and maxed out we could barely think straight. But at the same time, we also had no clue how amazing it would be. How much fun we would be having. How blessed we were to be. And how much happiness we would share. At the end of the day, when we wearily collapse and prepare for another run at this tomorrow, I need to remind myself....the circus takes a lot of work to run, but the reward is great, the show is spectacular and every once in a while there are the moments where you gasp at the 'death-defying' feats, amazed at how they pulled it off.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
The Gain
I will be gut-level honest here and tell you willingly that I intended to name this post "The Lack." I'm never sure what to write about, but when I get the title in my head as a theme for the week or day, I know then that's what I should use. So there it popped - The Lack. Like a dark cloud over my head this week. I bet you can guess what major Lack I'm referring to!! Yup, that's right...Sleep!
And so I started formulating what else I could write about that would be appropriate given the Lack of many things lately....sleep, time, money, sanity, brain function? What else is there? The past 12 weeks have truly taken their toll, and The Lack seemed like a fitting explanation for what I feel like some days....
And then, sometime this afternoon it dawned on me. April will be off work tomorrow, and so my last real day at home by myself on maternity leave with these babies was today. It blew right past me and was almost over before I realized it. I kept thinking...oh I have another day!!! But, no. Sure, I will have tomorrow off work, but we have to make a trip to Sam's school in the morning and April here will be nice for the extra set of hands, but it just isn't the same as being a true SAHM (stay at home mom) winging it solo on this twin train. Alas, my time with my boys is up.
I've had several friends go back to work in the past year after being off on maternity leave and all of them have the same thought I think....despite the fact that we love our jobs...despite the fact that this is our life and we HAVE to work financially....despite the fact that we secretly (okay, sometimes not so secretly) will enjoy donning clean attire and makeup and looking like a presentable human being....despite all of this...there is always that nagging, tiny shred of mommy guilt. No matter how much we try to escape it, the guilt creeps in and there's no way around it.
So what do we do? We hug our little one(s) and try not to think about them every moment of the day while we're away so we can get some work done....and it gets easier as time goes by. I know eventually I will look forward to the dreaded 7pm nightly feeding because I haven't had to do it like clockwork every three hours through the day. I might even enjoy (okay, that's too strong...how about not hate) the middle-of-the-night wake up call(s) as a chance to cuddle and kiss their smiley faces.
Now that I've got some perspective as I approach the end of my maternity leave (and by perspective I mean my coping mechanism for not breaking down and being a strong working momma who doesn't cry all day!), I think it's time for me to reflect on what I've gained....
Superhuman Mommy Magic: I've said it several times the past week and I'll say it again. I am a mommy machine. Never in my life have I worked so hard as I've done in the past three months...okay, really in the past year. I only thought I was Type A workaholic before. Oh no. It has been taken to a whole new level. I literally cannot stop or our house will simply cease to function. And by that I mean, no dinner, no clean clothes, no baths, no food in the fridge, no bills paid, nothing. At the end of some days I cannot even remember how I accomplished this much, and yet the house is still not clean at all (notice that cleaning toilets and mopping floors was not on my list I haven't even thought of starting those chores yet, thank you parents who come every few weeks and clean my house for me!). Sometimes I think that God made women with special powers. Somehow between no sleep and keeping track of 5 people's schedules and organizing meals and coordinating plans for who knows what, life has actually kept moving forward. That just amazes me. I definitely did not know I was capable of this.
The Ability to Function with Less: Initially this really means less brain function. But really it is functioning with less everything. Time & money being the biggest and most clearly felt. Have to tell you, at about 8pm, I really have a hard time holding an actual conversation. My mind is a muddy mess of fuzzy sleep-deprived mush. And don't even get me started on the money. I've had that rant too many times to count. I've gotten a paycheck for 32 hours a week instead of 40 for the last three months, and somehow we are surviving. And I have less time than ever before to finish what needs to be done, but I feel like it is the deadline mentality...because I have less time, I work that much harder/faster to get it done. And, again, somehow, someway it ends up functioning....albeit not always smoothly.
Flexibility: Perhaps more shocking than anything else I've gained, I simply cannot operate in my normal super-organized, structured and methodical way. Twins have forced me to throw my hands in the air and shake my head (and sometimes cry in frustration). There is no plan that works. No parenting philosophy or book that has the answers. I just cannot care as much. It is SO hard for me. I have found myself saying, "Do whatever you want." Or even, "It doesn't matter really." Or sometimes, "Whatever works." What? Really? Who is this person who has taken over my body? Oh, I know. It is the crazy mom of twins who is just trying to get some sort of routine going so we can have a "normal" day. SIGH. Rough. I found finally that when I stopped trying so hard to get the twins on a schedule and just started enjoying the time I had with them, it ended up falling into place. So yes, being flexible has actually paid off. For the most part, the babies eat and nap at the same times and we have a routine. Not really a schedule down to the minute, but at least a routine.
Faith: A few weeks ago I was commiserating with my sister-in-law Krystal about how much I have changed through this process. I remember telling her that I don't think I can ever look at faith the same after this experience. To be honest, I've never been a person who just easily trusted God. Who could put it in His hands and let it be. Not surprisingly, I'm a tiny bit of a control freak. :) And a little crazy about needing a plan. We all know how that turned out...in every single way, my life has been turned upside down and my plan thrown out the window, run over by a car and then paved over with fresh asphalt. I don't know that I could have learned this lesson of faith any other way. It has been a trying journey, for sure, but I'm so blessed that God took me on the journey in the first place. I can say with confidence that I am no longer in control. My plan means nothing. Don't worry, I'm still me and will still be prepared, but I will never again go into a situation or life in general without that genuine trust in God. I have seen it. I have lived it. I know that He has a plan for my life that is "immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine" (Eph 3:20).
Lots gained. Yes, some things lacking. But nothing that really matters. Thankful for some good perspective as I head into the next fun journey at work on Monday. Bye, bye mommy guilt! I'm choosing not to be sad. Looking back with happiness, love and thankfulness for the time I was able to spend with my wee ones. Feels like the end, but I know it is only the beginning. We've got so much fun (and craziness) to look forward to....thankfully I'm not in control. ;)
And so I started formulating what else I could write about that would be appropriate given the Lack of many things lately....sleep, time, money, sanity, brain function? What else is there? The past 12 weeks have truly taken their toll, and The Lack seemed like a fitting explanation for what I feel like some days....
And then, sometime this afternoon it dawned on me. April will be off work tomorrow, and so my last real day at home by myself on maternity leave with these babies was today. It blew right past me and was almost over before I realized it. I kept thinking...oh I have another day!!! But, no. Sure, I will have tomorrow off work, but we have to make a trip to Sam's school in the morning and April here will be nice for the extra set of hands, but it just isn't the same as being a true SAHM (stay at home mom) winging it solo on this twin train. Alas, my time with my boys is up.
I've had several friends go back to work in the past year after being off on maternity leave and all of them have the same thought I think....despite the fact that we love our jobs...despite the fact that this is our life and we HAVE to work financially....despite the fact that we secretly (okay, sometimes not so secretly) will enjoy donning clean attire and makeup and looking like a presentable human being....despite all of this...there is always that nagging, tiny shred of mommy guilt. No matter how much we try to escape it, the guilt creeps in and there's no way around it.
So what do we do? We hug our little one(s) and try not to think about them every moment of the day while we're away so we can get some work done....and it gets easier as time goes by. I know eventually I will look forward to the dreaded 7pm nightly feeding because I haven't had to do it like clockwork every three hours through the day. I might even enjoy (okay, that's too strong...how about not hate) the middle-of-the-night wake up call(s) as a chance to cuddle and kiss their smiley faces.
Now that I've got some perspective as I approach the end of my maternity leave (and by perspective I mean my coping mechanism for not breaking down and being a strong working momma who doesn't cry all day!), I think it's time for me to reflect on what I've gained....
Superhuman Mommy Magic: I've said it several times the past week and I'll say it again. I am a mommy machine. Never in my life have I worked so hard as I've done in the past three months...okay, really in the past year. I only thought I was Type A workaholic before. Oh no. It has been taken to a whole new level. I literally cannot stop or our house will simply cease to function. And by that I mean, no dinner, no clean clothes, no baths, no food in the fridge, no bills paid, nothing. At the end of some days I cannot even remember how I accomplished this much, and yet the house is still not clean at all (notice that cleaning toilets and mopping floors was not on my list I haven't even thought of starting those chores yet, thank you parents who come every few weeks and clean my house for me!). Sometimes I think that God made women with special powers. Somehow between no sleep and keeping track of 5 people's schedules and organizing meals and coordinating plans for who knows what, life has actually kept moving forward. That just amazes me. I definitely did not know I was capable of this.
The Ability to Function with Less: Initially this really means less brain function. But really it is functioning with less everything. Time & money being the biggest and most clearly felt. Have to tell you, at about 8pm, I really have a hard time holding an actual conversation. My mind is a muddy mess of fuzzy sleep-deprived mush. And don't even get me started on the money. I've had that rant too many times to count. I've gotten a paycheck for 32 hours a week instead of 40 for the last three months, and somehow we are surviving. And I have less time than ever before to finish what needs to be done, but I feel like it is the deadline mentality...because I have less time, I work that much harder/faster to get it done. And, again, somehow, someway it ends up functioning....albeit not always smoothly.
Flexibility: Perhaps more shocking than anything else I've gained, I simply cannot operate in my normal super-organized, structured and methodical way. Twins have forced me to throw my hands in the air and shake my head (and sometimes cry in frustration). There is no plan that works. No parenting philosophy or book that has the answers. I just cannot care as much. It is SO hard for me. I have found myself saying, "Do whatever you want." Or even, "It doesn't matter really." Or sometimes, "Whatever works." What? Really? Who is this person who has taken over my body? Oh, I know. It is the crazy mom of twins who is just trying to get some sort of routine going so we can have a "normal" day. SIGH. Rough. I found finally that when I stopped trying so hard to get the twins on a schedule and just started enjoying the time I had with them, it ended up falling into place. So yes, being flexible has actually paid off. For the most part, the babies eat and nap at the same times and we have a routine. Not really a schedule down to the minute, but at least a routine.
Faith: A few weeks ago I was commiserating with my sister-in-law Krystal about how much I have changed through this process. I remember telling her that I don't think I can ever look at faith the same after this experience. To be honest, I've never been a person who just easily trusted God. Who could put it in His hands and let it be. Not surprisingly, I'm a tiny bit of a control freak. :) And a little crazy about needing a plan. We all know how that turned out...in every single way, my life has been turned upside down and my plan thrown out the window, run over by a car and then paved over with fresh asphalt. I don't know that I could have learned this lesson of faith any other way. It has been a trying journey, for sure, but I'm so blessed that God took me on the journey in the first place. I can say with confidence that I am no longer in control. My plan means nothing. Don't worry, I'm still me and will still be prepared, but I will never again go into a situation or life in general without that genuine trust in God. I have seen it. I have lived it. I know that He has a plan for my life that is "immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine" (Eph 3:20).
Lots gained. Yes, some things lacking. But nothing that really matters. Thankful for some good perspective as I head into the next fun journey at work on Monday. Bye, bye mommy guilt! I'm choosing not to be sad. Looking back with happiness, love and thankfulness for the time I was able to spend with my wee ones. Feels like the end, but I know it is only the beginning. We've got so much fun (and craziness) to look forward to....thankfully I'm not in control. ;)
Monday, January 9, 2012
The Numbers
It's a new year and I figured I'd shake things up with a different perspective on my twin mommy life. In reality everything can be broken up in a logical way numerically....
1 - Gallons I pump on a good day. Yup, that's right - I am getting nearly 64 oz of milk out of these 'girls' every single day. Whoa. Never in a million years thought I would still be breastfeeding at this point. I've gone twice as long as I did with Sam (yay!) and we've settled into a fairly manageable routine of feeding, pumping...and repeating that process all day and night without too much pain, agony or misery. I'm finally producing enough to even freeze extras on rare occasions, and I'm doing one nighttime feeding of formula every day so that the babies stay used to the consistency since they will likely get a few feedings of formula at daycare through the week. Still, I cannot say I love it. Or even like it. The babies refuse to nurse and by this point it is just easier to keep pumping and doing bottles since they are still getting the good stuff either way. Supposedly my chest size is going to even out and return to normal about now...ummmm...not happening so much. Depressing since I gained several sizes after having Sam, even despite losing weight. Really REALLY hoping I don't continue to gain in size. Yikes. I may tip over!! Just Kidding. I tried on a bunch of clothes, knowing they would easily cover my stomach and shockingly they do not even remotely fit over my chest. Who would have thought that would be my issue with weight/size this time around? Not me. Ah well. Babies get the good stuff and I have the cup size some women dream about...unless they have it already and then they PRAY TO GOD it goes away!
2 - Weeks until I go back to work. Cannot believe my maternity leave is almost over!!! Spending this precious time with the twins has been wonderful. Not always easy....okay, not EVER easy. But still pretty wonderful. I am so grateful to my work for letting me take the time without hesitation and with encouragement. I'm so thankful that it took long enough for me to get pregnant this time around that I actually had enough paid time off to keep receiving a paycheck for the entire 12 weeks. And I'm beyond blessed for having so many moments with the twins I will never forget in these crazy first 3 months of 'twinfancy.'
3 - Times my water bill has increased. No joke. Started pre-twins with $50ish a month. Now it is up to $175. Yikes. Thank you billions of loads of laundry and dishes. Nuff said.
4 - Times I have to give out acid reflux medication in a day. Unfortunately, at about 7 weeks old, both babies started to have some signs of reflux, including crying hysterically in pain after eating, spitting up abnormally and waking up early out of a sound nap crying out in pain and drawing up their legs or arching their backs. No good. Doc diagnosed reflux and the medicine has been slowly helping.
5 - Number of people in our family now with the added kiddos I have now. Whew. T.I.R.E.D. Sam has decided after almost 4 years of sleeping 12 hours solid at night to wake up every day about 5 or 5:30am and ask us if it is morning yet. BLAH. Granted, this is just about the time I have made my way back into bed after a baby feeding, so I'm sure he is stirred awake by baby noises and me wandering around the house, but still. No fun. But, alas, we are now a family of 5.
6 - Number of hours the babies can now go without eating! Now this is a huge milestone. We wake them up every 3 hours to feed them during the day, but in the last week or so (really since Christmas) the twins are actually making it from a 7pm feeding until about 12:30am or so before needing to eat! HALLELUJAH. It will only get better from here. (And yes, I am chanting this over and over in my head). This is the only time of the day they will stretch this long. Normally after about midnight they still wake up every 3-4 hours. But at least there is now one longer stretch. I get asked all the time when they should start sleeping more, and this is what I know: Sam slept through the night at exactly 12 weeks. We had him on a "sleep training" plan from Day One where we fed every 2-3 hours and did the eating, waketime and sleep cycle all day long. He slowly stretched the time between feedings and eventually went to 4am, then 5am, then 6am and soon we were waking HIM up in the morning. BLISS. With the twins, I expect something similar because we are doing the same eat/wake/sleep cycle. BUT...and this is a big BUT....with premature babies, you basically have to add in the weeks they shouldn't have been born to when they do things. So if we can expect it at 12 weeks or so...we have to add 6 weeks to that since they were born 6 weeks early. So, alas, I am hoping (and praying!) that by 18 weeks old they will finally be sleeping at least 8 hours a night. Please. God. Others with twins say it take 6 months or so. It is harder with two babies...because if one wakes up they can wake the other. And if one wakes up, we wake the other up to keep them eating at the same time so they are sleeping at the same time, hungry at the same time, etc. In our case usually it is Toby who wakes up hungry but Gabe is a great sleeper. So sometimes I wonder how much longer Gabe would have kept sleeping if Toby hadn't woken up and needed to eat. We'll see soon enough. Or maybe not SOON. But soon in the scheme of things I suppose.
7 - Time in the morning we do our first feeding and officially start our day...soon to be moved up or we won't make it to work on time! 7 is also the number of times the babies eat each day since they just started cutting out one nighttime feeding...stretching to 12:30am instead of one at 10pm and then another at 1am. OH, and 7 is also the amount of maximum hours of sleep I can get now! I am getting about 5-6 uninterrupted and a few more here and there between feedings. This is a HUGE improvement over the 3-4 hours of sleep I was getting a night just a few short weeks ago. It already seems like time is flying by. YAY!
8 - Times a day I pump, pump, pump. Oh joy. The twins have cut a nighttime feeding out so I have one less time of pumping while I feed them. In order to keep up my supply, I've added a pumping session before I go to bed each night after the babies (and Sam!) are asleep. This is the one 30 minutes of the day that Ben is exclusively on kid-duty if they cry out or need something. I'm hooked up and unable to move so I enjoy a little TV action. My favorites: Toddlers & Tiaras, Kourtney & Kim take New York, Say Yes to the Dress or Cupcake Wars. OH, or Teen Mom 2. Yes, that's right. Mindless, frivolous TV trash often times. My guilty vice.
9 - Time of day I aim to be in bed by nightly. This hardly ever happens. But 9pm is my goal. If I can do it routinely, especially when I go back to work here in a matter of days, I will be able to consistently get 6 hours of sleep AND have enough time in the morning to work out, do a load of laundry, wash the baby dishes, shower and change before dealing with babies and getting out the door. Envious? HAHAHA.
10 - The time Ben crashes on the couch in the living room. Since they used to wake up at 10pm to eat, he didn't go to sleep until after that. Now, he tried to get a few winks before they wake up about midnight and then goes back to sleep for the rest of the night. AND, superstar dad and hubby he is, he stays in the living room with the monitors for the kiddos so I can get very solid sleep without hearing baby cries or anything. What a guy!
So I've counted to 10 and there are still some notable numbers to mention. Times we have to put back in pacifiers or pick up and calm down crying babies every evening? COUNTLESS. Seriously. From 5pm to 9pm no one wants to be at our house, apparently even babies! They are super fussy, just want to be held, too tired and too hungry or not tired and not hungry. It is not a fun time. Dinnertime and Bedtime are pure chaos. We are making sure Sam gets some play time each night, which has contributed in large part to his well-adjusted and happy-with-babies attitude I am sure. But as a result, I handle the dinner prep, baby meds & feeding and baby bedtime solo until Ben gets Sam a bath and into bed. It is a whirlwind of crying and juggling each night and I lose track of how many times we try to console babies during this time. Thank you APRIL for helping relieve some very overwhelming parents when you are home during this craziness.
Some other numbers? 14 - Number of bottles we go through each day. 16 - Number of diapers we go through on a GOOD day. Not a blowout or super stinky day. A small pack is 30 diapers...so you can see that lasts us about 2 days!!!! (Interject here that I've decided to stick with disposable diapers much to the shock and horror of many cloth diapering mommies I am sure but I just CANNOT handle one additional thing to add to my day. If I had to choose between pumping and cloth diapers, I choose pumping. Plus, we got enough diapers at showers that I won't even have to think about purchasing them for months...or longer. We have TONS).
And finally, the number that hangs over my head, keeps me awake at night and is my biggest frustration with twin parenthood. The daycare bill. In two weeks I will officially be paying a ridiculous amount for childcare. I believe it is worth it, and I love their school. Ben and I have jobs we cannot leave for various reasons, financially and otherwise. We've crunched every number to see if we could do it another way, and we still believe this is the best choice for our family for all those reasons and more. The teachers in the infant class are amazing, and Sam cannot wait to have his brothers join him at school. But still. The number. $1,200 a month. For part time. Kill. Me. Now.
HAHAHA. So instead of organizing my life into a series of numbers and Type-A coping mechanisms (SERIOUSLY), I will instead be happy for the things I cannot count. Watching Sam be the best big brother I could have asked for...Smelling that awesome baby smell after a double dose of baths...Cuddling with two wiggling monkeys and seeing four beautiful brownish-grayish-greenish eyes stare back at me....moments to precious to count.
1 - Gallons I pump on a good day. Yup, that's right - I am getting nearly 64 oz of milk out of these 'girls' every single day. Whoa. Never in a million years thought I would still be breastfeeding at this point. I've gone twice as long as I did with Sam (yay!) and we've settled into a fairly manageable routine of feeding, pumping...and repeating that process all day and night without too much pain, agony or misery. I'm finally producing enough to even freeze extras on rare occasions, and I'm doing one nighttime feeding of formula every day so that the babies stay used to the consistency since they will likely get a few feedings of formula at daycare through the week. Still, I cannot say I love it. Or even like it. The babies refuse to nurse and by this point it is just easier to keep pumping and doing bottles since they are still getting the good stuff either way. Supposedly my chest size is going to even out and return to normal about now...ummmm...not happening so much. Depressing since I gained several sizes after having Sam, even despite losing weight. Really REALLY hoping I don't continue to gain in size. Yikes. I may tip over!! Just Kidding. I tried on a bunch of clothes, knowing they would easily cover my stomach and shockingly they do not even remotely fit over my chest. Who would have thought that would be my issue with weight/size this time around? Not me. Ah well. Babies get the good stuff and I have the cup size some women dream about...unless they have it already and then they PRAY TO GOD it goes away!
2 - Weeks until I go back to work. Cannot believe my maternity leave is almost over!!! Spending this precious time with the twins has been wonderful. Not always easy....okay, not EVER easy. But still pretty wonderful. I am so grateful to my work for letting me take the time without hesitation and with encouragement. I'm so thankful that it took long enough for me to get pregnant this time around that I actually had enough paid time off to keep receiving a paycheck for the entire 12 weeks. And I'm beyond blessed for having so many moments with the twins I will never forget in these crazy first 3 months of 'twinfancy.'
3 - Times my water bill has increased. No joke. Started pre-twins with $50ish a month. Now it is up to $175. Yikes. Thank you billions of loads of laundry and dishes. Nuff said.
4 - Times I have to give out acid reflux medication in a day. Unfortunately, at about 7 weeks old, both babies started to have some signs of reflux, including crying hysterically in pain after eating, spitting up abnormally and waking up early out of a sound nap crying out in pain and drawing up their legs or arching their backs. No good. Doc diagnosed reflux and the medicine has been slowly helping.
5 - Number of people in our family now with the added kiddos I have now. Whew. T.I.R.E.D. Sam has decided after almost 4 years of sleeping 12 hours solid at night to wake up every day about 5 or 5:30am and ask us if it is morning yet. BLAH. Granted, this is just about the time I have made my way back into bed after a baby feeding, so I'm sure he is stirred awake by baby noises and me wandering around the house, but still. No fun. But, alas, we are now a family of 5.
6 - Number of hours the babies can now go without eating! Now this is a huge milestone. We wake them up every 3 hours to feed them during the day, but in the last week or so (really since Christmas) the twins are actually making it from a 7pm feeding until about 12:30am or so before needing to eat! HALLELUJAH. It will only get better from here. (And yes, I am chanting this over and over in my head). This is the only time of the day they will stretch this long. Normally after about midnight they still wake up every 3-4 hours. But at least there is now one longer stretch. I get asked all the time when they should start sleeping more, and this is what I know: Sam slept through the night at exactly 12 weeks. We had him on a "sleep training" plan from Day One where we fed every 2-3 hours and did the eating, waketime and sleep cycle all day long. He slowly stretched the time between feedings and eventually went to 4am, then 5am, then 6am and soon we were waking HIM up in the morning. BLISS. With the twins, I expect something similar because we are doing the same eat/wake/sleep cycle. BUT...and this is a big BUT....with premature babies, you basically have to add in the weeks they shouldn't have been born to when they do things. So if we can expect it at 12 weeks or so...we have to add 6 weeks to that since they were born 6 weeks early. So, alas, I am hoping (and praying!) that by 18 weeks old they will finally be sleeping at least 8 hours a night. Please. God. Others with twins say it take 6 months or so. It is harder with two babies...because if one wakes up they can wake the other. And if one wakes up, we wake the other up to keep them eating at the same time so they are sleeping at the same time, hungry at the same time, etc. In our case usually it is Toby who wakes up hungry but Gabe is a great sleeper. So sometimes I wonder how much longer Gabe would have kept sleeping if Toby hadn't woken up and needed to eat. We'll see soon enough. Or maybe not SOON. But soon in the scheme of things I suppose.
7 - Time in the morning we do our first feeding and officially start our day...soon to be moved up or we won't make it to work on time! 7 is also the number of times the babies eat each day since they just started cutting out one nighttime feeding...stretching to 12:30am instead of one at 10pm and then another at 1am. OH, and 7 is also the amount of maximum hours of sleep I can get now! I am getting about 5-6 uninterrupted and a few more here and there between feedings. This is a HUGE improvement over the 3-4 hours of sleep I was getting a night just a few short weeks ago. It already seems like time is flying by. YAY!
8 - Times a day I pump, pump, pump. Oh joy. The twins have cut a nighttime feeding out so I have one less time of pumping while I feed them. In order to keep up my supply, I've added a pumping session before I go to bed each night after the babies (and Sam!) are asleep. This is the one 30 minutes of the day that Ben is exclusively on kid-duty if they cry out or need something. I'm hooked up and unable to move so I enjoy a little TV action. My favorites: Toddlers & Tiaras, Kourtney & Kim take New York, Say Yes to the Dress or Cupcake Wars. OH, or Teen Mom 2. Yes, that's right. Mindless, frivolous TV trash often times. My guilty vice.
9 - Time of day I aim to be in bed by nightly. This hardly ever happens. But 9pm is my goal. If I can do it routinely, especially when I go back to work here in a matter of days, I will be able to consistently get 6 hours of sleep AND have enough time in the morning to work out, do a load of laundry, wash the baby dishes, shower and change before dealing with babies and getting out the door. Envious? HAHAHA.
10 - The time Ben crashes on the couch in the living room. Since they used to wake up at 10pm to eat, he didn't go to sleep until after that. Now, he tried to get a few winks before they wake up about midnight and then goes back to sleep for the rest of the night. AND, superstar dad and hubby he is, he stays in the living room with the monitors for the kiddos so I can get very solid sleep without hearing baby cries or anything. What a guy!
So I've counted to 10 and there are still some notable numbers to mention. Times we have to put back in pacifiers or pick up and calm down crying babies every evening? COUNTLESS. Seriously. From 5pm to 9pm no one wants to be at our house, apparently even babies! They are super fussy, just want to be held, too tired and too hungry or not tired and not hungry. It is not a fun time. Dinnertime and Bedtime are pure chaos. We are making sure Sam gets some play time each night, which has contributed in large part to his well-adjusted and happy-with-babies attitude I am sure. But as a result, I handle the dinner prep, baby meds & feeding and baby bedtime solo until Ben gets Sam a bath and into bed. It is a whirlwind of crying and juggling each night and I lose track of how many times we try to console babies during this time. Thank you APRIL for helping relieve some very overwhelming parents when you are home during this craziness.
Some other numbers? 14 - Number of bottles we go through each day. 16 - Number of diapers we go through on a GOOD day. Not a blowout or super stinky day. A small pack is 30 diapers...so you can see that lasts us about 2 days!!!! (Interject here that I've decided to stick with disposable diapers much to the shock and horror of many cloth diapering mommies I am sure but I just CANNOT handle one additional thing to add to my day. If I had to choose between pumping and cloth diapers, I choose pumping. Plus, we got enough diapers at showers that I won't even have to think about purchasing them for months...or longer. We have TONS).
And finally, the number that hangs over my head, keeps me awake at night and is my biggest frustration with twin parenthood. The daycare bill. In two weeks I will officially be paying a ridiculous amount for childcare. I believe it is worth it, and I love their school. Ben and I have jobs we cannot leave for various reasons, financially and otherwise. We've crunched every number to see if we could do it another way, and we still believe this is the best choice for our family for all those reasons and more. The teachers in the infant class are amazing, and Sam cannot wait to have his brothers join him at school. But still. The number. $1,200 a month. For part time. Kill. Me. Now.
HAHAHA. So instead of organizing my life into a series of numbers and Type-A coping mechanisms (SERIOUSLY), I will instead be happy for the things I cannot count. Watching Sam be the best big brother I could have asked for...Smelling that awesome baby smell after a double dose of baths...Cuddling with two wiggling monkeys and seeing four beautiful brownish-grayish-greenish eyes stare back at me....moments to precious to count.
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