Miss M is scared. She has always been more cautious than her sister - as babies strangers would frequently comment on Miss M's serious demeanor, while Miss A would share her smile with anyone who passed by. I was never concerned, because the smiles came out in abundance when Miss M was around familiar faces. Lately her fears have become much more apparent. She's scared of Santa, the vacuum cleaner, the doctor, the door stopper (more so the sound it makes if someone pulls on it), dogs, and I'm sure there's more but these are the ones most present in my mind.
We were recently at a home of some friends, and it was the first time we visited their house with our girls in tow. They have a bulldog, and Miss M was on the run from it for the entire night, shrieking and moving from chair to chair to stay as far away from it as possible. I had no idea she was so terrified until that night, and I was caught off-guard. I didn't know how to handle it. On one hand, I wanted her to face her fear so that she could learn that it's okay, but on the other hand, her instincts were telling her it wasn't safe. Maybe she was right. I don't really know that dog, and although our friends assured me that it's fine with children, do I want to teach Miss M to ignore her instincts? I don't want her to approach strange dogs. After some initial attempts to get her to relax around the dog, I gave up and just helped her to keep a safe distance. As the evening went on and she watched Miss A and another child playing carefree around it, she relaxed a became a little more brave. I was happy with that.
Now, Santa. Going into the holiday season, I laughed at the thought of the classic 'kid-crying-on-Santa's-lap' Christmas photo. We had one like that last year, Miss A just going with the flow, and Miss M with a big pout on her face. I planned on going for it again. That is, until I took Miss M to the grocery store where they had a mechanical waving Santa set up in the produce department. She took one look at him and literally dove into the bottom of the shopping cart and curled up into the fetal position. She wouldn't come out until he was totally out of sight. Okay, so maybe no Santa photo. I don't think the photo would be nearly as cute or funny knowing that my child was absolutely terrified. I can't put her through that. Again, her instincts are telling her that sitting with a strange man in a costume is not a good idea. Not a bad instinct. I'll tell her that it's okay because Mommy and Daddy are there, and we'll give her the opportunity to go, but I'm definitely not pushing this one. If Miss A wants to lead the way and her sister decides to follow, great. If not, I'm okay with that.
Miss M has been terrified of the doctor since she was about 18 months old. I took the girls to get their teeth cleaned at that time, and I think it must be one of her earliest memories, because since then, any office that has a medical feel to it sends Miss M running in the other direction. This one is a little more challenging, because when you have to see the doctor, you don't get to opt out. Luckily she only has to go for annual check-ups now. Something that I hope has helped in this department is her sister. Today Miss A had a minor surgery done, and Miss M came to the hospital for the entire day to be there for her sister. Miss A was the definition of brave, with not one tear, not one complaint, and such co-operation for the nurses and doctors. Miss M observed her sister and how the staff at the hospital cared for her all day, and by the end of the day she was begging to wear 'hospital pajamas' too. Then they came home and played doctor all afternoon.
It's fascinating to me how my girls balance each other out, and I know they each have their own strengths that they'll share with one another. I haven't done any reading yet on dealing with fears in preschoolers, but I think I'm developing my own theory as we go along. I think more important than helping them to face their fears is to help my children feel safe, secure, and confident first.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Saturday, November 27, 2010
The Sounds of Music
Oh, how I love our music class. I don't know if I can even capture it in words, but I'll try.
I grew up surrounded by music. My mom is a music teacher, and from the time I was about 3 years old our living room was her music studio. I took piano lessons for several years, albeit reluctantly. At the time I resented it, but now of course I'm very thankful that I wasn't given the option to quit. Seeing how my mother built a very successful career for herself over the last thirty-some years, I can see why it was important to her that I pursue an education in music. I've heard her speech many times to parents considering pulling their kids from lessons, citing the many proven benefits that kids gain from music education: improved mathematical skills, better hand-eye coordination, etc. And of course, that their kids likely won't be doing karate or gymnastics when they're 70 years old, but playing the piano, most definitely.
My girls were in their first music class at 6 weeks old. Grandma had a bit of influence there, as you may imagine, and she was with us at every class. We took a brief hiatus after that, I'm not sure why... perhaps the maternity-leave budget, perhaps exhaustion, but I think it was because when they were that little I felt a little intimidated going to classes without an extra set of hands to help, and those weren't always available. Anyways, we returned to music classes at nine months old, and we haven't stopped since. The learning that takes place - at our classes, or as a direct result of our classes - blows my mind. I remember the first moment I saw it clearly... Miss A was about 10 months old, and as we put her toothbrush away she sang two notes, 'bom, bom', which we regularly sing as we put things away (instruments, scarves, etc.) in class. Without any prompting, our infant made the connection, remembered it, and applied it to another situation. I was sold.
I'm proud of my girls' appreciation and love of music. They ask for us to put on music almost every day. They can sing many songs from beginning to end, in pitch, with the correct rhythm. And now I hear them composing, making up lyrics of their own, but to a tune we know. It's fascinating. I also get to see how my girls are growing and developing in a group setting. They don't attend a day care or day home, so music class is one of the main venues where they have the opportunity to socialize and to build those skills. They're fairly shy at the beginning of each semester, staying close to me (attached to me), but as the weeks go on, I see their confidence build. They venture out on their own more and more, showing off their dance moves, copying our teacher's actions, and singing out loud in our circle.
Music enriches our lives. Period. I could probably leave it at that, but I feel compelled to expand. Music has entertained us through countless car rides, has brought us out of tantrums, distracted us when we're scared, comforted us when we're sad, calmed us before bed, and brought us endless hours of family fun, singing and dancing together. Those are the moments you dream of when you dream of being a parent, and music has been such a big part of it for us. Music is magic, it truly is.
I grew up surrounded by music. My mom is a music teacher, and from the time I was about 3 years old our living room was her music studio. I took piano lessons for several years, albeit reluctantly. At the time I resented it, but now of course I'm very thankful that I wasn't given the option to quit. Seeing how my mother built a very successful career for herself over the last thirty-some years, I can see why it was important to her that I pursue an education in music. I've heard her speech many times to parents considering pulling their kids from lessons, citing the many proven benefits that kids gain from music education: improved mathematical skills, better hand-eye coordination, etc. And of course, that their kids likely won't be doing karate or gymnastics when they're 70 years old, but playing the piano, most definitely.
My girls were in their first music class at 6 weeks old. Grandma had a bit of influence there, as you may imagine, and she was with us at every class. We took a brief hiatus after that, I'm not sure why... perhaps the maternity-leave budget, perhaps exhaustion, but I think it was because when they were that little I felt a little intimidated going to classes without an extra set of hands to help, and those weren't always available. Anyways, we returned to music classes at nine months old, and we haven't stopped since. The learning that takes place - at our classes, or as a direct result of our classes - blows my mind. I remember the first moment I saw it clearly... Miss A was about 10 months old, and as we put her toothbrush away she sang two notes, 'bom, bom', which we regularly sing as we put things away (instruments, scarves, etc.) in class. Without any prompting, our infant made the connection, remembered it, and applied it to another situation. I was sold.
I'm proud of my girls' appreciation and love of music. They ask for us to put on music almost every day. They can sing many songs from beginning to end, in pitch, with the correct rhythm. And now I hear them composing, making up lyrics of their own, but to a tune we know. It's fascinating. I also get to see how my girls are growing and developing in a group setting. They don't attend a day care or day home, so music class is one of the main venues where they have the opportunity to socialize and to build those skills. They're fairly shy at the beginning of each semester, staying close to me (attached to me), but as the weeks go on, I see their confidence build. They venture out on their own more and more, showing off their dance moves, copying our teacher's actions, and singing out loud in our circle.
Music enriches our lives. Period. I could probably leave it at that, but I feel compelled to expand. Music has entertained us through countless car rides, has brought us out of tantrums, distracted us when we're scared, comforted us when we're sad, calmed us before bed, and brought us endless hours of family fun, singing and dancing together. Those are the moments you dream of when you dream of being a parent, and music has been such a big part of it for us. Music is magic, it truly is.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Evolution of a Daddy
Over the past couple of months, I've noticed a distinct change in how my girls talk about and interact with their Daddy. They've fallen head over heels in love with him. Don't get me wrong, they've always loved him, but it's beyond that now. The connection is so strong it's palpable.
For a long time, I would say my girls were "Mommy's girls". They were. I was the one who fed them, nurtured them, who cared for them for the majority of their day. Daddy was definitely involved, because that's the kind of man he is (and with twins, there is no option...caring for two infants is a two person job). But because I was off of work for one year, the majority of their needs were met by me, so it's no surprise I was the one they called for in the night, or the one they ran to when they needed consoling.
Now, things have shifted. I've always said that one of the best things I've done is to return to work. It was extremely difficult at the time, but the benefits quickly became apparent. Not only did it give me a break that I needed (which I believe makes me a better parent), it also forced me to hand over some responsibility to my husband. To let him do things his way, not the way I think is best. I work weekends once a month, and my husband has an uncanny ability to find kid-friendly events in our city. For the first year of their lives, I don't know if my husband ever took both girls out by himself. I don't blame him, it wasn't easy packing two infants around, and I was always with them. Now, he doesn't hesitate to load two toddlers into the car and head off on any adventure, be it Home Depot or the Zoo. It's still not easy, but his level of ease and comfort in his Daddy role would make you believe it is.
Now, when I'm working late and Daddy is home, it's 'Date Night with Daddy'. When I'm home, all day long I hear "Where's Daddy?" or "What's Daddy doing?". When we pull into the garage and my husband's car is there the girls simultaneously cheer "Daddy's home!". The three of them have their special games, their books, their inside jokes. I've tried to join in, and sometimes I'm welcome, but other times it's an exclusive club. It's a bit strange and sad to be on the outside, but I know better than to mess with the father-daughter bonds. I know we have our own unique bonds too.
As I watch my girls fall deeper in love with their Daddy, I fall deeper in love with him too. My husband is neat and orderly by nature. The invasion of toys isn't easy for a lot of people, but especially for people like that. He's definitely relaxed over the past two years, because he sees beyond the mess of toys to see the life and love our house is full of. Now I love to see him fall asleep with diapers on his night table and a My Little Pony beside his pillow. I love to see him putting the girls toy kitchen back in order, only for them to come along and discover it all over again the next day. I love to see this grown man blow drying his little girl's hair, and fixing their pony tails and hair clips. I love to see how he dresses them up and takes them out on the town. I love that my husband's bedtime reading material, formerly GQ magazine, is now a parenting book for dads. I love to hear him teaching them Spanish, and to see their minds soaking it up. I love to hear squeals and laughter from the three of them echoing down the stairs while I cook dinner. I love how they look at him with complete trust in their eyes. And I love how before anything else, he thinks of them.
I could go on and on. We became parents at the same time, but not in the same way. With time, my husband has evolved into such a wonderful father, and I'm so proud of him. Becoming a father made an amazing person that much better.
We love you!
For a long time, I would say my girls were "Mommy's girls". They were. I was the one who fed them, nurtured them, who cared for them for the majority of their day. Daddy was definitely involved, because that's the kind of man he is (and with twins, there is no option...caring for two infants is a two person job). But because I was off of work for one year, the majority of their needs were met by me, so it's no surprise I was the one they called for in the night, or the one they ran to when they needed consoling.
Now, things have shifted. I've always said that one of the best things I've done is to return to work. It was extremely difficult at the time, but the benefits quickly became apparent. Not only did it give me a break that I needed (which I believe makes me a better parent), it also forced me to hand over some responsibility to my husband. To let him do things his way, not the way I think is best. I work weekends once a month, and my husband has an uncanny ability to find kid-friendly events in our city. For the first year of their lives, I don't know if my husband ever took both girls out by himself. I don't blame him, it wasn't easy packing two infants around, and I was always with them. Now, he doesn't hesitate to load two toddlers into the car and head off on any adventure, be it Home Depot or the Zoo. It's still not easy, but his level of ease and comfort in his Daddy role would make you believe it is.
Now, when I'm working late and Daddy is home, it's 'Date Night with Daddy'. When I'm home, all day long I hear "Where's Daddy?" or "What's Daddy doing?". When we pull into the garage and my husband's car is there the girls simultaneously cheer "Daddy's home!". The three of them have their special games, their books, their inside jokes. I've tried to join in, and sometimes I'm welcome, but other times it's an exclusive club. It's a bit strange and sad to be on the outside, but I know better than to mess with the father-daughter bonds. I know we have our own unique bonds too.
As I watch my girls fall deeper in love with their Daddy, I fall deeper in love with him too. My husband is neat and orderly by nature. The invasion of toys isn't easy for a lot of people, but especially for people like that. He's definitely relaxed over the past two years, because he sees beyond the mess of toys to see the life and love our house is full of. Now I love to see him fall asleep with diapers on his night table and a My Little Pony beside his pillow. I love to see him putting the girls toy kitchen back in order, only for them to come along and discover it all over again the next day. I love to see this grown man blow drying his little girl's hair, and fixing their pony tails and hair clips. I love to see how he dresses them up and takes them out on the town. I love that my husband's bedtime reading material, formerly GQ magazine, is now a parenting book for dads. I love to hear him teaching them Spanish, and to see their minds soaking it up. I love to hear squeals and laughter from the three of them echoing down the stairs while I cook dinner. I love how they look at him with complete trust in their eyes. And I love how before anything else, he thinks of them.
I could go on and on. We became parents at the same time, but not in the same way. With time, my husband has evolved into such a wonderful father, and I'm so proud of him. Becoming a father made an amazing person that much better.
We love you!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Breastfeeding Babies
When I tell people that I exclusively breastfed my twins, they tend to respond with disbelief. Like it is the most challenging way they could possibly think of to feed two babies. What I don't understand is how they could think there could be an easier method. It was the easiest possible way. Period. Here's how it went:
Things didn't start out ideally. I had complications from my delivery (hemorrhage due to a very stretched uterus), so I was out of commission for several hours after the girls were born. They did not breastfeed during the 'golden hour' right after they were born. We didn't get to do the skin-to-skin thing until the following morning. Their first feeds were bottles of formula in the nursery, which definitely was not what I had planned. That was the only formula they ever received, for the record.
As soon as they were brought to me in my postpartum room (nine hours later), I was very eager to see my girls and to breastfeed them for the first time. My plan was to practice with them each individually before we attempted tandem nursing. Miss M went first (because her sister had just had a bottle in the nursery). No problem! Miss A, your turn. Another expert! I sent my sister-in-law to get my nursing pillow, and I was tandem nursing by the first night. Could it possibly go this smoothly? Yes. I had not one crack, not one bruise, blister, or scab. Tenderness, a little, but nothing a little nipple cream couldn't handle.
I credit our breastfeeding success to a few things. Yes, I had good (full-term) partners who latched well, I have decent breastfeeding nipples (not too big, not too flat), and milk supply was never an issue. But most importantly, I had knowledge beforehand. I knew what a good latch looked like. I knew how to position my babies. I knew that it shouldn't hurt. I knew early hunger cues and normal feeding patterns. I understood the supply/demand process of milk production. My only challenges were the nurses in the hospital who were pushing me to formula feed, to calm my fussing babies. But I knew that my babies needed to be on my breasts all night long, so that my body would kick into gear and make milk for them. I knew that the breastfeeding frenzy that takes place in those first few days was normal. Even though it feels like it could not possibly be normal, it is.
At home, I had my breastfeeding station on the couch with my pillow, my footstool (very important), my remote control, my phone, and my water. I knew I would be spending a lot of time there in the early days, but to be honest it wasn't that bad. Once my milk supply was established my girls became quite efficient little feeders. Ten minutes and they were happily drifting into milk comas. It was frequent, but fast. I loved it, because every time I was breastfeeding I was sitting down, watching TV, and I had two babies who were both cuddled and content at the same time. That didn't happen under any other circumstances when I was alone during the day.
At night, I had them in bassinets right beside my bed. I didn't step foot out of my bed for feedings. I reached over, brought them into bed, fed them, burped them, and put them back. Diaper changes required me to get up, but those were still done in my bedroom. It was often one baby initiating a feed (usually Miss M), so I would just wake the other up to feed (usually Miss A) to avoid waking up double. It did not take long for their feeding schedules to sync. We did this until it didn't work anymore (when I would wake up Miss A and she wouldn't eat), and then I went to feeding them separately at night.
Most people know there are plenty of benefits to breastfeeding. The benefits when breastfeeding twins, like most things, are multiplied. After peeing every 15 minutes while I was pregnant, I swear I peed twice a day while I was breastfeeding. It was awesome. Plus, breastfeeding twins was the best diet on the planet. I ate more when I was breastfeeding than when I was pregnant, I ate whatever I wanted, and the weight just kept coming off. I was skinnier breastfeeding than I was pre-pregnancy (I'm not anymore, but still). I never had to mix one bottle, measure one scoop of formula, sterilize water or bottles, pack feeding supplies, and I never had to fumble around in my kitchen half asleep at 3 a.m. For six months, wherever I went, as long as I had diapers and my breasts, I had everything I needed. In a word, simplicity.
Solids did come into the picture at the six month mark, so things did get a little more complicated and messy from that point on, but we continued to breastfeed for 13 months. The girls gradually weaned themselves, and when I returned to work at one year we were down to morning and bedtime feeds only. My husband and I went away for two nights at that point, and when we came back, the girls were done. I had one last good-bye session of breastfeeding with each of them, and that was it. Weaning was easy, because it was gradual and we were all ready. All in all, it was a wonderful experience for me. If the girls could remember, I'm sure they would agree.
Things didn't start out ideally. I had complications from my delivery (hemorrhage due to a very stretched uterus), so I was out of commission for several hours after the girls were born. They did not breastfeed during the 'golden hour' right after they were born. We didn't get to do the skin-to-skin thing until the following morning. Their first feeds were bottles of formula in the nursery, which definitely was not what I had planned. That was the only formula they ever received, for the record.
As soon as they were brought to me in my postpartum room (nine hours later), I was very eager to see my girls and to breastfeed them for the first time. My plan was to practice with them each individually before we attempted tandem nursing. Miss M went first (because her sister had just had a bottle in the nursery). No problem! Miss A, your turn. Another expert! I sent my sister-in-law to get my nursing pillow, and I was tandem nursing by the first night. Could it possibly go this smoothly? Yes. I had not one crack, not one bruise, blister, or scab. Tenderness, a little, but nothing a little nipple cream couldn't handle.
I credit our breastfeeding success to a few things. Yes, I had good (full-term) partners who latched well, I have decent breastfeeding nipples (not too big, not too flat), and milk supply was never an issue. But most importantly, I had knowledge beforehand. I knew what a good latch looked like. I knew how to position my babies. I knew that it shouldn't hurt. I knew early hunger cues and normal feeding patterns. I understood the supply/demand process of milk production. My only challenges were the nurses in the hospital who were pushing me to formula feed, to calm my fussing babies. But I knew that my babies needed to be on my breasts all night long, so that my body would kick into gear and make milk for them. I knew that the breastfeeding frenzy that takes place in those first few days was normal. Even though it feels like it could not possibly be normal, it is.
At home, I had my breastfeeding station on the couch with my pillow, my footstool (very important), my remote control, my phone, and my water. I knew I would be spending a lot of time there in the early days, but to be honest it wasn't that bad. Once my milk supply was established my girls became quite efficient little feeders. Ten minutes and they were happily drifting into milk comas. It was frequent, but fast. I loved it, because every time I was breastfeeding I was sitting down, watching TV, and I had two babies who were both cuddled and content at the same time. That didn't happen under any other circumstances when I was alone during the day.
At night, I had them in bassinets right beside my bed. I didn't step foot out of my bed for feedings. I reached over, brought them into bed, fed them, burped them, and put them back. Diaper changes required me to get up, but those were still done in my bedroom. It was often one baby initiating a feed (usually Miss M), so I would just wake the other up to feed (usually Miss A) to avoid waking up double. It did not take long for their feeding schedules to sync. We did this until it didn't work anymore (when I would wake up Miss A and she wouldn't eat), and then I went to feeding them separately at night.
Most people know there are plenty of benefits to breastfeeding. The benefits when breastfeeding twins, like most things, are multiplied. After peeing every 15 minutes while I was pregnant, I swear I peed twice a day while I was breastfeeding. It was awesome. Plus, breastfeeding twins was the best diet on the planet. I ate more when I was breastfeeding than when I was pregnant, I ate whatever I wanted, and the weight just kept coming off. I was skinnier breastfeeding than I was pre-pregnancy (I'm not anymore, but still). I never had to mix one bottle, measure one scoop of formula, sterilize water or bottles, pack feeding supplies, and I never had to fumble around in my kitchen half asleep at 3 a.m. For six months, wherever I went, as long as I had diapers and my breasts, I had everything I needed. In a word, simplicity.
Solids did come into the picture at the six month mark, so things did get a little more complicated and messy from that point on, but we continued to breastfeed for 13 months. The girls gradually weaned themselves, and when I returned to work at one year we were down to morning and bedtime feeds only. My husband and I went away for two nights at that point, and when we came back, the girls were done. I had one last good-bye session of breastfeeding with each of them, and that was it. Weaning was easy, because it was gradual and we were all ready. All in all, it was a wonderful experience for me. If the girls could remember, I'm sure they would agree.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Potty Talk
This is our potty training story so far...
Before they were two, I made some very halfhearted attempts at potty training because some friends of mine were having success with their kids of the same age. I wasn't really too worried about it, but I figured we could give it a try, relaxed, no pressure. My girls consistently poop after lunch, and a couple of times I put the girls on the potty at that time, read some stories, and Miss A had some success. She peed and pooped a couple of times. For Miss M, nothing. I'm not sure why we stopped, maybe I was lazy, but I guess it seemed like more work than it was worth. They weren't ready. Okay, we weren't ready. I decided to wait until summer when they would be wearing summer dresses and it would be easy access to get on the potty quickly.
Summer came and went. We did give it a try for about three days. I prepared myself, I bought rewards (mini M&M's), Pull-Ups, and a lot of panties, and I enlisted help (my mom). We took them out to the cabin, let them run around bottomless, and the potties followed them everywhere (in the cabin, in the yard, on the beach...). We did have a few successes (because we got them to sit on the potty every 20 minutes), but mostly we just went through a lot of panties. They weren't making the connection. Wet panties were hanging everywhere. I was ready, they were not.
Then a couple of weeks ago we had a play date with a friend and her daughter, who is a month older than my girls. She's been peeing on the potty since she was 18 months old. She's almost fully potty trained, but has the occasional pee in her Pull-Ups. Anyways, the girls played, they watched their friend use the potty, and my girls each had a turn on the potty after. Success all around. Okay, let's do this. Round three.
I like to implement changes in routine when I'm home for at least 3 or 4 days in a row, because I know consistency is key. So we did 4 bottomless days at home. Huge success. Miss M got it right away, running to the potty on her own regularly. Pees and poops. She beats me there, pees, dumps it in the toilet and flushes. It helps that she really likes getting treats afterward. It helps even more that we've switched to gummy bears. She was on the potty constantly for awhile, but I think the novelty has worn off a bit. Her poor little bladder had nothing left, yet she'd still squeeze out one drop if she could, to get a treat. I've had to specify that treats are only for the 'big ones', and now I regularly hear "Oooo, Mommy it's a big one!". We've had outings (to the park, to music class) in Pull-Ups and stayed dry. I don't expect that we'll have no accidents, but she's got it. She's made the connection. She wore pants all day today and still got them off in time, every time. Woohoo!
Miss A is still hit or miss, which is interesting, because she's the one who had such early success. She'll go with encouragement, but she gets busy and forgets sometimes. I know she's made the brain-bladder connection, but I don't think she cares about the treats nearly as much as her sister does. So, I've upped the ante. I've made a deal with her that if she has lots of pees and poops on the potty, we'll buy a princess movie (I was going to buy Beauty and the Beast for Christmas, but this seemed better). We'll see what happens.
Now I need to work on my own training. I can't be lazy and leave them in diapers for too long in the morning, and I need to get the Pull-Ups off as soon as we're home. They know what to do, but I have to set them up for success. It doesn't sound that hard to do, but getting diapers off means PJ's off, potty time, cleaning bums, cleaning potties, washing hands, panties on and clothes on. Times two. And I'm tired in the morning! But I'm working on it.
Before they were two, I made some very halfhearted attempts at potty training because some friends of mine were having success with their kids of the same age. I wasn't really too worried about it, but I figured we could give it a try, relaxed, no pressure. My girls consistently poop after lunch, and a couple of times I put the girls on the potty at that time, read some stories, and Miss A had some success. She peed and pooped a couple of times. For Miss M, nothing. I'm not sure why we stopped, maybe I was lazy, but I guess it seemed like more work than it was worth. They weren't ready. Okay, we weren't ready. I decided to wait until summer when they would be wearing summer dresses and it would be easy access to get on the potty quickly.
Summer came and went. We did give it a try for about three days. I prepared myself, I bought rewards (mini M&M's), Pull-Ups, and a lot of panties, and I enlisted help (my mom). We took them out to the cabin, let them run around bottomless, and the potties followed them everywhere (in the cabin, in the yard, on the beach...). We did have a few successes (because we got them to sit on the potty every 20 minutes), but mostly we just went through a lot of panties. They weren't making the connection. Wet panties were hanging everywhere. I was ready, they were not.
Then a couple of weeks ago we had a play date with a friend and her daughter, who is a month older than my girls. She's been peeing on the potty since she was 18 months old. She's almost fully potty trained, but has the occasional pee in her Pull-Ups. Anyways, the girls played, they watched their friend use the potty, and my girls each had a turn on the potty after. Success all around. Okay, let's do this. Round three.
I like to implement changes in routine when I'm home for at least 3 or 4 days in a row, because I know consistency is key. So we did 4 bottomless days at home. Huge success. Miss M got it right away, running to the potty on her own regularly. Pees and poops. She beats me there, pees, dumps it in the toilet and flushes. It helps that she really likes getting treats afterward. It helps even more that we've switched to gummy bears. She was on the potty constantly for awhile, but I think the novelty has worn off a bit. Her poor little bladder had nothing left, yet she'd still squeeze out one drop if she could, to get a treat. I've had to specify that treats are only for the 'big ones', and now I regularly hear "Oooo, Mommy it's a big one!". We've had outings (to the park, to music class) in Pull-Ups and stayed dry. I don't expect that we'll have no accidents, but she's got it. She's made the connection. She wore pants all day today and still got them off in time, every time. Woohoo!
Miss A is still hit or miss, which is interesting, because she's the one who had such early success. She'll go with encouragement, but she gets busy and forgets sometimes. I know she's made the brain-bladder connection, but I don't think she cares about the treats nearly as much as her sister does. So, I've upped the ante. I've made a deal with her that if she has lots of pees and poops on the potty, we'll buy a princess movie (I was going to buy Beauty and the Beast for Christmas, but this seemed better). We'll see what happens.
Now I need to work on my own training. I can't be lazy and leave them in diapers for too long in the morning, and I need to get the Pull-Ups off as soon as we're home. They know what to do, but I have to set them up for success. It doesn't sound that hard to do, but getting diapers off means PJ's off, potty time, cleaning bums, cleaning potties, washing hands, panties on and clothes on. Times two. And I'm tired in the morning! But I'm working on it.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
The Great Baby Debate
My biological clock is ticking. It's not just an expression, it's very real. I work with beautiful, cherub-faced little babies on a daily basis, and did long before I had my own babies. For years, it didn't faze me. Then one day, I held a newborn in my arms and something switched. I needed a baby, and tomorrow wasn't too soon. Hormones are powerful things, and mine are on the surge again.
I've always wanted to have a big family, but I'm feeling a little gun-shy now that I'm actually faced with the decision. I know that I have time (reproductively speaking), but I don't want the age gap between my girls and the hypothetical baby to be too big. All of my friends with kids have theirs spaced the very typical 2 years apart, but that window has come and gone for us. If we were to get pregnant now, the girls would be 3 when baby is born.
This may sound strange, but I feel a bit cheated. I have my two beautiful children, but I only had one pregnancy, one delivery, one maternity leave, and I only get to go through each stage once. I know I need to count my blessings, but I'm being honest, and those are a few drawbacks that come with twins. People often tell me they would love to have twins, because "you get it done and over with all in one shot". Seriously, I hear this a lot, but I don't share that same mentality. I really enjoyed my pregnancy, I would love to give birth again, and I don't want this to be the last time I have a two year old in my house. All of my friends who are off on maternity leave with baby number two get to be home with their toddler for another year as well. I want another year at home with my girls, which is another reason not to wait too long, or they'll be in school (sniff, sniff). More than another pregnancy, birth, or maternity leave, most importantly, I want another child.
But kids are expensive. Ask anyone, and they'll tell you it doesn't get any cheaper. Luckily having two babies at once already forced us into the bigger house and the minivan. We'd need to reassess what's going to be realistic for extra-curricular activities and family vacations. Maybe those aren't good reasons to not have a child, but we have family in another country. Plane tickets for five might not be possible very often. Someone recently told me "the world is designed for families of four". We do have a good thing going on. As I mentioned in my last blog, I feel like we've hit our stride. We've found a nice balance, so why would I want to change it? It's a bit intimidating to think about. I've been waiting for a sign, but I'm not sure it's coming. A friend of mine whose children are grown told me that I'll always grieve the baby I never had. If we decided to move forward as a family of four, maybe that nagging feeling won't ever go away. I can see why people have 'oops' pregnancies. I would kind of like to let the fates decide this one for me. Maybe I will.
I've always wanted to have a big family, but I'm feeling a little gun-shy now that I'm actually faced with the decision. I know that I have time (reproductively speaking), but I don't want the age gap between my girls and the hypothetical baby to be too big. All of my friends with kids have theirs spaced the very typical 2 years apart, but that window has come and gone for us. If we were to get pregnant now, the girls would be 3 when baby is born.
This may sound strange, but I feel a bit cheated. I have my two beautiful children, but I only had one pregnancy, one delivery, one maternity leave, and I only get to go through each stage once. I know I need to count my blessings, but I'm being honest, and those are a few drawbacks that come with twins. People often tell me they would love to have twins, because "you get it done and over with all in one shot". Seriously, I hear this a lot, but I don't share that same mentality. I really enjoyed my pregnancy, I would love to give birth again, and I don't want this to be the last time I have a two year old in my house. All of my friends who are off on maternity leave with baby number two get to be home with their toddler for another year as well. I want another year at home with my girls, which is another reason not to wait too long, or they'll be in school (sniff, sniff). More than another pregnancy, birth, or maternity leave, most importantly, I want another child.
But kids are expensive. Ask anyone, and they'll tell you it doesn't get any cheaper. Luckily having two babies at once already forced us into the bigger house and the minivan. We'd need to reassess what's going to be realistic for extra-curricular activities and family vacations. Maybe those aren't good reasons to not have a child, but we have family in another country. Plane tickets for five might not be possible very often. Someone recently told me "the world is designed for families of four". We do have a good thing going on. As I mentioned in my last blog, I feel like we've hit our stride. We've found a nice balance, so why would I want to change it? It's a bit intimidating to think about. I've been waiting for a sign, but I'm not sure it's coming. A friend of mine whose children are grown told me that I'll always grieve the baby I never had. If we decided to move forward as a family of four, maybe that nagging feeling won't ever go away. I can see why people have 'oops' pregnancies. I would kind of like to let the fates decide this one for me. Maybe I will.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Hitting our Stride
We recently returned from a trip to the mountains with our girls, which involved a lot of car travel, a lot of naps on the go, and 3 nights spent in 3 different places. It was great. The girls did awesome. We took a similar trip about two months ago, and I can't believe how much easier it's becoming to travel, and to be spontaneous, with twins. We did hikes, we camped (in an RV, but it still counts), we stayed in hotels, and we ate in restaurants 3 times a day. I feel like we can do anything again. For a long time that wasn't true. I know in the grand scheme of things that 2 years isn't really that long, but when your lives change like ours did, it felt like a really long time.
I think every expectant parent believes, to some degree, that a new baby will have to adapt to them, not vice versa. That you'll keep doing whatever you did before, and baby will come along for the ride. That your life will not be dictated by baby's schedule ("We're not going to be those parents who..."). This may work well for some people, but this definitely did not work for us. Our 'normal' lives were very much interrupted when babies came into the picture. For months our activities were very much planned around our daughters schedules, and they still are to some extent. Now there's just more flexibility. They don't need to sleep nearly as much or as often, and we don't suffer total meltdowns if bedtime gets pushed up by an hour. With time, we have found a new normal. It didn't take two years, but it took awhile. The training occurs on both ends. We slowly train our babies, and they slowly train us, and somewhere along the way, we find a balance.
I believe that all people thrive on routine. Our minds and bodies function best when we eat, sleep, and are active on a regular basis. As soon as you see what happens when you push your infant past their limits, you never want to do it again. MELT DOWN. Everyone suffers. You're tempted often, by those people who don't see the effects of keeping a "she's doing just fine" baby out a little later. But by the time you're trying to get that baby settled into bed an hour later than usual, she's overtired and stressed, which means she's full of adrenaline, which means a hellish time trying to get her to bed. It happens every time. Once you've been there, your survival instincts kick in, and you learn how to avoid meltdowns at all costs. When there's two babies to contend with, it can become quite restrictive. Any kind of activity had to be carefully timed, and the window is short. Think about getting two babies fed, two diapered, two dressed (possibly diapered again) in car seats, in the vehicle, unloaded, doing said activity (strollercise, play date, shopping, etc.) and then you have to get them loaded back up again and home for a nap, with another feeding and diapering in there somewhere. Your window for all of that might be 2 or 3 hours. Like I said, restrictive. It takes some trial and error (aka meltdowns in public) to figure out what you can and can't accomplish in that time frame. Sunday dinners with our extended family would start at 4 or 5, so that we could leave and get the girls into bed by 7. We did put them down to sleep in one place and transfer them home on a few special occasions, but I wasn't up for the challenge very often. The exhaustion I was experiencing in that first year definitely made it worse. People probably thought I was a real drag, or maybe a bit over the top with how strict I was with our bedtime. My only excuse is that I was in survival mode. Once the girls became good sleepers (which they did), and once chaos didn't ensue when we stepped outside of routine, I became much more relaxed.
Which brings us to now. I'm exhausted just thinking about how much effort it took me to go out with the girls in that first year, and I was doing it on little to no sleep. Now I'm well rested, and going out is leaps and bounds easier. An incredible amount of growth and development happens in that first year, and not just for babies. Becoming parents was a huge adjustment. With time, we've become much more comfortable in our roles. The challenges are there, and I expect they will last a lifetime, but the rewards just keep getting better and better.
I think every expectant parent believes, to some degree, that a new baby will have to adapt to them, not vice versa. That you'll keep doing whatever you did before, and baby will come along for the ride. That your life will not be dictated by baby's schedule ("We're not going to be those parents who..."). This may work well for some people, but this definitely did not work for us. Our 'normal' lives were very much interrupted when babies came into the picture. For months our activities were very much planned around our daughters schedules, and they still are to some extent. Now there's just more flexibility. They don't need to sleep nearly as much or as often, and we don't suffer total meltdowns if bedtime gets pushed up by an hour. With time, we have found a new normal. It didn't take two years, but it took awhile. The training occurs on both ends. We slowly train our babies, and they slowly train us, and somewhere along the way, we find a balance.
I believe that all people thrive on routine. Our minds and bodies function best when we eat, sleep, and are active on a regular basis. As soon as you see what happens when you push your infant past their limits, you never want to do it again. MELT DOWN. Everyone suffers. You're tempted often, by those people who don't see the effects of keeping a "she's doing just fine" baby out a little later. But by the time you're trying to get that baby settled into bed an hour later than usual, she's overtired and stressed, which means she's full of adrenaline, which means a hellish time trying to get her to bed. It happens every time. Once you've been there, your survival instincts kick in, and you learn how to avoid meltdowns at all costs. When there's two babies to contend with, it can become quite restrictive. Any kind of activity had to be carefully timed, and the window is short. Think about getting two babies fed, two diapered, two dressed (possibly diapered again) in car seats, in the vehicle, unloaded, doing said activity (strollercise, play date, shopping, etc.) and then you have to get them loaded back up again and home for a nap, with another feeding and diapering in there somewhere. Your window for all of that might be 2 or 3 hours. Like I said, restrictive. It takes some trial and error (aka meltdowns in public) to figure out what you can and can't accomplish in that time frame. Sunday dinners with our extended family would start at 4 or 5, so that we could leave and get the girls into bed by 7. We did put them down to sleep in one place and transfer them home on a few special occasions, but I wasn't up for the challenge very often. The exhaustion I was experiencing in that first year definitely made it worse. People probably thought I was a real drag, or maybe a bit over the top with how strict I was with our bedtime. My only excuse is that I was in survival mode. Once the girls became good sleepers (which they did), and once chaos didn't ensue when we stepped outside of routine, I became much more relaxed.
Which brings us to now. I'm exhausted just thinking about how much effort it took me to go out with the girls in that first year, and I was doing it on little to no sleep. Now I'm well rested, and going out is leaps and bounds easier. An incredible amount of growth and development happens in that first year, and not just for babies. Becoming parents was a huge adjustment. With time, we've become much more comfortable in our roles. The challenges are there, and I expect they will last a lifetime, but the rewards just keep getting better and better.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
TV... or not TV?
It happened. TV has crept into the lives of my children. I feel guilty admitting it, but I know that it's not going to change. We are on an irreversible path. Maybe irreversible isn't the right word, as it would be possible to eliminate TV, but if I'm being realistic, I highly doubt that's going to happen.
On advice I had read from various experts, I had a no TV policy in my house for the first two years of my girls' lives (almost). This was not at all difficult to accomplish. We simply read books, listened to music, went for walks, and played. I did watch TV during the day when they were newborns, but as soon as I noticed they were starting to pay attention to it, the TV only came on during nap time. When they were 18 months old, we went on a long flight with them, and I brought a portable DVD player with us in case I was desperate. I did become desperate at one point, turned it on for them, and they didn't sit still for more than a minute to watch it. They didn't know how to watch TV! I'm kind of proud of that, actually.
Then one day we were reading about animals, and I wanted them to hear the sound a seal makes, and to see how it claps. So, I pulled it up on YouTube for them. It was great, they loved it, and soon we were searching for more animals to watch in action. Tigers, and lions, and elephants, oh my! And so we began down a slippery slope...
I know our nanny started to let them watch things as well. Mickey Mouse, Elmo, etc. I don't know exactly when that started, or how much they watched, but I do trust that she respected my wishes to limit TV as much as possible. I knew that some viewing was going on, and I let it slide. If the weather is poor it can be a long day cooped up inside with two toddlers, and our nanny doesn't have to luxury of putting the kids in the car and going somewhere for a change of scenery.
A month or two before their second birthday, I started to let them watch cartoons in the mornings while I shower. It buys me 20 minutes that I don't have to worry about what they're doing, because they usually don't move once it's on. It's true, they turn into zombies. That's the worst thing about it. I have seriously done a song and dance in front of them while the TV is on, and they'll barely glance my direction. Disturbing. So it's definitely limited. There are still many days that they watch no TV, and the other days, it's less than an hour total. 20-30 minutes in the morning, and if it's an especially hectic dinner hour, 20-30 minutes while I get things ready.
I have seen some positives, I have to say. They have learned from things they've watched. The other day, they watched a 25 minute episode of Dora, and proceeded to have imaginative play about a "Gooey Geyser" for hours afterward. Yesterday they were telling me about patterns, and how I have to follow them. Dora was doing a puzzle one episode, and out came the puzzles for the whole afternoon. Good things.
So, it's a tool. We use it cautiously. And we absolutely still read, sing, listen to music, go outside, dance, and play.
On advice I had read from various experts, I had a no TV policy in my house for the first two years of my girls' lives (almost). This was not at all difficult to accomplish. We simply read books, listened to music, went for walks, and played. I did watch TV during the day when they were newborns, but as soon as I noticed they were starting to pay attention to it, the TV only came on during nap time. When they were 18 months old, we went on a long flight with them, and I brought a portable DVD player with us in case I was desperate. I did become desperate at one point, turned it on for them, and they didn't sit still for more than a minute to watch it. They didn't know how to watch TV! I'm kind of proud of that, actually.
Then one day we were reading about animals, and I wanted them to hear the sound a seal makes, and to see how it claps. So, I pulled it up on YouTube for them. It was great, they loved it, and soon we were searching for more animals to watch in action. Tigers, and lions, and elephants, oh my! And so we began down a slippery slope...
I know our nanny started to let them watch things as well. Mickey Mouse, Elmo, etc. I don't know exactly when that started, or how much they watched, but I do trust that she respected my wishes to limit TV as much as possible. I knew that some viewing was going on, and I let it slide. If the weather is poor it can be a long day cooped up inside with two toddlers, and our nanny doesn't have to luxury of putting the kids in the car and going somewhere for a change of scenery.
A month or two before their second birthday, I started to let them watch cartoons in the mornings while I shower. It buys me 20 minutes that I don't have to worry about what they're doing, because they usually don't move once it's on. It's true, they turn into zombies. That's the worst thing about it. I have seriously done a song and dance in front of them while the TV is on, and they'll barely glance my direction. Disturbing. So it's definitely limited. There are still many days that they watch no TV, and the other days, it's less than an hour total. 20-30 minutes in the morning, and if it's an especially hectic dinner hour, 20-30 minutes while I get things ready.
I have seen some positives, I have to say. They have learned from things they've watched. The other day, they watched a 25 minute episode of Dora, and proceeded to have imaginative play about a "Gooey Geyser" for hours afterward. Yesterday they were telling me about patterns, and how I have to follow them. Dora was doing a puzzle one episode, and out came the puzzles for the whole afternoon. Good things.
So, it's a tool. We use it cautiously. And we absolutely still read, sing, listen to music, go outside, dance, and play.
Friday, September 10, 2010
A (half) day in the life...
It's only 2:20 p.m., but I'm feeling a little overwhelmed today, and I thought it might be interesting to write down why. Fridays are my stay-at-home-mom days, because I feel guilty working full time, and that gives me a day (in theory) to do things around the house that I'd rather not do on the weekend. Ha! So here is my day so far...
1 a.m. Crying. Loud crying. Into the girls' room, and I blindly find my daughter crying on the floor. She fell out of her new big girl bed (it was night #2, first night went great). Get her settled very quickly, she's asleep almost immediately after I put her back in bed. I feel my way over to her sister's bed to cover her up. Where is she? On the floor on a mound of blankets, asleep. Back into the bed. The beds have guardrails, but only about 1/3 of the way across, and they still sleep in every direction. Mental note to get longer guard rails.
6 a.m. One girl awake (same one that woke up at 1), but she's not really awake. Bring her into bed with me, and she sleeps with me (after we lay down and then she makes me go back to her bed for her baby and her water) for about 45 minutes, then tells me she wants to go back to her bed. Up again, hoping that I can get 15 more minutes, but when we go back to her room, her sister is awake saying "I'm really hungry mommy". I'm up.
7 a.m. Cereal for one. Porridge for the other. Then cereal too. One needs a big girl cup, the other needs a baby (sippy) cup, which I'm happy to give her, because otherwise she'll dump her milk out. I eat all of the leftover cereal, which seems like small amounts, but probably adds up to way more than I should have eaten for breakfast. Poopie bum, wet bum, changed. Then a poopie bum almost immediately after the clean diaper went on. Play. Read some books. Clean up breakfast. Girls have an orange..
9 a.m. Go upstairs to get the girls dressed and do some laundry. I have an overwhelming amount of laundry to do because we had visitors for 2 weeks who left on Tuesday. One girl dressed. Other girl has a poopie bum again (she seriously poops 3-4 times a day, I think that's why she's so tiny). I run downstairs to get diaper cream because she's susceptible to rashes, and when I come back upstairs, I find her with her poopie diaper strewn on the floor, and she's sitting on the toilet in my bathroom, even though there are two little pottys on the floor. (To appreciate this, you have to imagine a very tiny 2 year old hoisting her little bum over the huge bowl with all of her strength). She's never done this before, but they have a new seat that goes on the big potty at grandma's house, so she thought she'd give it a try. "Are you peeing?". "No mommy, but it's coming pretty soon". Okay. No pee, off the toilet we go. Now I have poop to clean off her bum, off the toilet, off the bathroom floor, oh, and now that giant teddy bear she just ran and jumped on. Why didn't I catch her? Because her sister was getting undressed, because this looked like great fun, and wanted to flush the toilet. Okay, everybody sit on the little pottys. Yes, we can wear panties today. Clean up. Panties on. Downstairs with pottys we go.
10 a.m. A few potty attempts. Snack time. Yogurt for one, mini bran muffin for the other. While we are snacking, a pee accident on my kitchen chair that has a fabric seat. Stay calm. Clean up. Let's go for a change of scenery. Off to the store (in diapers) to look for winter boots.
11 a.m. We did great at the store, except that I caved and let them get a cookie from the bakery that I didn't want them to have. Today was the first time they actually asked for it. Yikes, what I bad habit I've started. We didn't buy boots, but the girls ran around in some for awhile. I'm starting to hear a lot more "Mommy, I want that" at the store now. I can ignore that though. I only gave into the cookie, because it works so well, and I can shop in relative peace.
12 p.m. Home. Hands washed. Leftovers for lunch. I discover a package leaked all over my fridge and into the produce drawers. Yuck. Semi-clean up, the rest I leave for nap time. Groceries half put away. Poopie bum, wet bum. Up to their room to read stories.
1 p.m. Stay in your big girl beds and close your eyes. Almost instantly, they're out. First warning. I do some laundry. Second warning, I sit in the chair in their room for a bit. They're calm, I leave. Third warning. I snap, not a proud mommy moment. Then I feel bad and try to give cuddles so they're relaxed and drift off. Didn't work. Fourth warning. I move one girl to the other room where a playpen is set up for my nephew. A bit of crying from both. Some cuddles, and one girl asleep by 1:45. Singing coming from the other room. Too much singing. I go in, she's totally naked except for socks, which she's wearing on her hands. Diaper on, clothes on, cuddles, calm, back to the big girl bed. Shhh, your sister is sleeping. I come downstairs, and I hear whispering on the monitor "wake up sister... wake up". Oh no no, not after all that. I sit beside my daughter's bed until she drifts off. OMG, that took over an hour. Big girl beds is tough.
2:20 p.m. Sitting at the computer. Not cleaning the fridge. Clock is ticking, back to work
1 a.m. Crying. Loud crying. Into the girls' room, and I blindly find my daughter crying on the floor. She fell out of her new big girl bed (it was night #2, first night went great). Get her settled very quickly, she's asleep almost immediately after I put her back in bed. I feel my way over to her sister's bed to cover her up. Where is she? On the floor on a mound of blankets, asleep. Back into the bed. The beds have guardrails, but only about 1/3 of the way across, and they still sleep in every direction. Mental note to get longer guard rails.
6 a.m. One girl awake (same one that woke up at 1), but she's not really awake. Bring her into bed with me, and she sleeps with me (after we lay down and then she makes me go back to her bed for her baby and her water) for about 45 minutes, then tells me she wants to go back to her bed. Up again, hoping that I can get 15 more minutes, but when we go back to her room, her sister is awake saying "I'm really hungry mommy". I'm up.
7 a.m. Cereal for one. Porridge for the other. Then cereal too. One needs a big girl cup, the other needs a baby (sippy) cup, which I'm happy to give her, because otherwise she'll dump her milk out. I eat all of the leftover cereal, which seems like small amounts, but probably adds up to way more than I should have eaten for breakfast. Poopie bum, wet bum, changed. Then a poopie bum almost immediately after the clean diaper went on. Play. Read some books. Clean up breakfast. Girls have an orange..
9 a.m. Go upstairs to get the girls dressed and do some laundry. I have an overwhelming amount of laundry to do because we had visitors for 2 weeks who left on Tuesday. One girl dressed. Other girl has a poopie bum again (she seriously poops 3-4 times a day, I think that's why she's so tiny). I run downstairs to get diaper cream because she's susceptible to rashes, and when I come back upstairs, I find her with her poopie diaper strewn on the floor, and she's sitting on the toilet in my bathroom, even though there are two little pottys on the floor. (To appreciate this, you have to imagine a very tiny 2 year old hoisting her little bum over the huge bowl with all of her strength). She's never done this before, but they have a new seat that goes on the big potty at grandma's house, so she thought she'd give it a try. "Are you peeing?". "No mommy, but it's coming pretty soon". Okay. No pee, off the toilet we go. Now I have poop to clean off her bum, off the toilet, off the bathroom floor, oh, and now that giant teddy bear she just ran and jumped on. Why didn't I catch her? Because her sister was getting undressed, because this looked like great fun, and wanted to flush the toilet. Okay, everybody sit on the little pottys. Yes, we can wear panties today. Clean up. Panties on. Downstairs with pottys we go.
10 a.m. A few potty attempts. Snack time. Yogurt for one, mini bran muffin for the other. While we are snacking, a pee accident on my kitchen chair that has a fabric seat. Stay calm. Clean up. Let's go for a change of scenery. Off to the store (in diapers) to look for winter boots.
11 a.m. We did great at the store, except that I caved and let them get a cookie from the bakery that I didn't want them to have. Today was the first time they actually asked for it. Yikes, what I bad habit I've started. We didn't buy boots, but the girls ran around in some for awhile. I'm starting to hear a lot more "Mommy, I want that" at the store now. I can ignore that though. I only gave into the cookie, because it works so well, and I can shop in relative peace.
12 p.m. Home. Hands washed. Leftovers for lunch. I discover a package leaked all over my fridge and into the produce drawers. Yuck. Semi-clean up, the rest I leave for nap time. Groceries half put away. Poopie bum, wet bum. Up to their room to read stories.
1 p.m. Stay in your big girl beds and close your eyes. Almost instantly, they're out. First warning. I do some laundry. Second warning, I sit in the chair in their room for a bit. They're calm, I leave. Third warning. I snap, not a proud mommy moment. Then I feel bad and try to give cuddles so they're relaxed and drift off. Didn't work. Fourth warning. I move one girl to the other room where a playpen is set up for my nephew. A bit of crying from both. Some cuddles, and one girl asleep by 1:45. Singing coming from the other room. Too much singing. I go in, she's totally naked except for socks, which she's wearing on her hands. Diaper on, clothes on, cuddles, calm, back to the big girl bed. Shhh, your sister is sleeping. I come downstairs, and I hear whispering on the monitor "wake up sister... wake up". Oh no no, not after all that. I sit beside my daughter's bed until she drifts off. OMG, that took over an hour. Big girl beds is tough.
2:20 p.m. Sitting at the computer. Not cleaning the fridge. Clock is ticking, back to work
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Playing Favorites
My husband and I were talking with friends of ours one day, when our girls were around 4 months old, and they told us they each had an idea of which of our girls were our favorites. They meant no harm in saying it, they simply believe that it’s a fact of life that parents will always have a favorite child (they aren’t parents, for the record). Although it was an innocent comment, it has stayed with me (haunted me) since that day. Could I have a favorite? I hate to think so. I’ve spent A LOT of time thinking about the possibility. Our friends were able to quickly name their own parent’s favorites, and my husband believes he knows who his parents favored. I discussed it with other friends to see if they believed the same thing. A few of them acknowledged that yes; they think their parents each favor one child, not necessarily the same one. I thought about my own family. Having three older brothers and being the only girl, I like to think my mom and I have a special bond, but it’s more about being women and mothers. I really don’t think it qualifies me as her favorite child. I don’t think I’m my dad’s favorite, but I would have a hard time guessing which one of my brothers would be. I’ll never know, because I know my parents would never say. This gives me peace of mind, because even if they did have a favorite child, we’ve never felt that way. In this area, they’ve excelled.
I find myself questioning my actions constantly… Do I pick one child up more than the other? Do I always give one of them the bigger half of the cookie? Do I serve one first more often? Do I brag about one more than the other? I know I try to give equal kisses and equal cuddles, and it’s easy to do that because they’re the same age and often playing close together. I don’t know if everything is equal, I’m sure it’s not, but I don’t know who is ‘ahead’, so I’m hoping they don’t know either. I guess it’s positive that I’m trying to keep myself in check. In all of my pondering, I’ve come to the conclusion that one day I may share more traits with one child, or bond with one over shared interests. It’s a likely possibility. But to love one more deeply, I’m not so sure. If that happens (I’m positive it hasn’t happened to this point), I would never want them to feel that way, so in this aspect I will model my parenting style after my own parents…Love and praise and attention for all, in abundance.
The only thing I know, with absolute certainly, is that my children bring me joy. Their smiles melt my heart. Their intelligence baffles me. I would suffer profoundly if anything were to happen to either of them. It’s unthinkable to me, and I know that I would do anything to protect them. I love them with the depth that I could never have imagined loving anything. Can that be measured? I don't think so.
And another thing…
Awhile ago I discovered what it was that made my friend decide which child was my ‘favorite’. She based her opinion on the colors I had painted their names on their bedroom wall. I painted those letters when they were just days old. I had been so worried that she had based her opinion on her observations of my interaction with my daughters, but all it was based on was which color she prefers. And I lost sleep over it!
I find myself questioning my actions constantly… Do I pick one child up more than the other? Do I always give one of them the bigger half of the cookie? Do I serve one first more often? Do I brag about one more than the other? I know I try to give equal kisses and equal cuddles, and it’s easy to do that because they’re the same age and often playing close together. I don’t know if everything is equal, I’m sure it’s not, but I don’t know who is ‘ahead’, so I’m hoping they don’t know either. I guess it’s positive that I’m trying to keep myself in check. In all of my pondering, I’ve come to the conclusion that one day I may share more traits with one child, or bond with one over shared interests. It’s a likely possibility. But to love one more deeply, I’m not so sure. If that happens (I’m positive it hasn’t happened to this point), I would never want them to feel that way, so in this aspect I will model my parenting style after my own parents…Love and praise and attention for all, in abundance.
The only thing I know, with absolute certainly, is that my children bring me joy. Their smiles melt my heart. Their intelligence baffles me. I would suffer profoundly if anything were to happen to either of them. It’s unthinkable to me, and I know that I would do anything to protect them. I love them with the depth that I could never have imagined loving anything. Can that be measured? I don't think so.
And another thing…
Awhile ago I discovered what it was that made my friend decide which child was my ‘favorite’. She based her opinion on the colors I had painted their names on their bedroom wall. I painted those letters when they were just days old. I had been so worried that she had based her opinion on her observations of my interaction with my daughters, but all it was based on was which color she prefers. And I lost sleep over it!
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Is is fair to compare?
One of the most common questions I get from strangers (once you have twins you get A LOT of questions from strangers) is whether or not my girls have different personalities. I've always found this to be a difficult question to answer. I don't know if it's just because I'm hesitant to label them as being one way or another, or if it's just hard to sum up a person's personality in a few words. The short answer is yes, they do, but it changes all the time depending on the situation. Someone might say to me "she must be the shy one", but in a different scenario that same girl may be singing and dancing and running wild. I once heard a father of twins say that he has one good twin and one evil twin, it just depends on the day which one is which. I thought that was pretty funny.
There are a few things that I'm sure are much more 'nature' than 'nurture'. I remember when I was going through some difficult sleep times, and someone said to me "don't you feel better that it's not what you're doing?" due to the fact that I was using the same strategies with both my girls, and one was a great sleeper while the other wasn't. At the time, it hadn't even occurred to me, because I thought I must have been doing something wrong. Now I know that my 'difficult' sleeper just has different sleep needs than her sister, and to this day that's true. My 'good' sleeper needs more sleep. Period. She naps longer (sometimes an hour or two longer), she sleeps longer at night, she falls asleep faster and easier, and she sleeps more soundly. I think this is intrinsic in her. Her sister is pretty much the opposite. It's not bad, just different. She still thrives, but with less sleep. Some days she goes with no nap at all, and she does fine. At 2, I'm sure she could drop her nap every second day, while I would bet money that her sister will nap until kindergarten (at least).
I would think that some parents of twins would have a difficult time not comparing their kids, especially if their children look very similar or are similar sizes. My girls are as different as you could imagine in looks, so much so that instead of "are they twins?" I often hear (with disbelief) "they're not twins... are they?". My one daughter is brunette, curly-haired, hazel-eyed, and about 7 pounds heavier and 2 inches taller than her twin sister, who is blonde, straight-haired, green-eyed, and teeny tiny. Genetics are a mysterious thing. They shared the same womb, they drank the same breast milk, they eat the same foods, and play in the same environment. It's hard not to compare. They go through every stage together. But one crawled a month earlier, walked a month earlier, and ran and jumped for months before her sister could. Her sister developed her speech more quickly, and was content to sit and flip through books. But they're both doing exactly what they need to be doing. So I'm learning not to compare (or at least not so much), because it only causes me unnecessary stress. I have to remind myself that just because I can compare my kids doesn't mean I should. I often feel guilty (or feel judged) if I brag about something one girl is doing if I don't balance it out with some praise or a cute story about her sister. Maybe all parents share that same feeling. Bottom line is, they are each undoubtedly unique, and I love them (equally) with all my heart.
There are a few things that I'm sure are much more 'nature' than 'nurture'. I remember when I was going through some difficult sleep times, and someone said to me "don't you feel better that it's not what you're doing?" due to the fact that I was using the same strategies with both my girls, and one was a great sleeper while the other wasn't. At the time, it hadn't even occurred to me, because I thought I must have been doing something wrong. Now I know that my 'difficult' sleeper just has different sleep needs than her sister, and to this day that's true. My 'good' sleeper needs more sleep. Period. She naps longer (sometimes an hour or two longer), she sleeps longer at night, she falls asleep faster and easier, and she sleeps more soundly. I think this is intrinsic in her. Her sister is pretty much the opposite. It's not bad, just different. She still thrives, but with less sleep. Some days she goes with no nap at all, and she does fine. At 2, I'm sure she could drop her nap every second day, while I would bet money that her sister will nap until kindergarten (at least).
I would think that some parents of twins would have a difficult time not comparing their kids, especially if their children look very similar or are similar sizes. My girls are as different as you could imagine in looks, so much so that instead of "are they twins?" I often hear (with disbelief) "they're not twins... are they?". My one daughter is brunette, curly-haired, hazel-eyed, and about 7 pounds heavier and 2 inches taller than her twin sister, who is blonde, straight-haired, green-eyed, and teeny tiny. Genetics are a mysterious thing. They shared the same womb, they drank the same breast milk, they eat the same foods, and play in the same environment. It's hard not to compare. They go through every stage together. But one crawled a month earlier, walked a month earlier, and ran and jumped for months before her sister could. Her sister developed her speech more quickly, and was content to sit and flip through books. But they're both doing exactly what they need to be doing. So I'm learning not to compare (or at least not so much), because it only causes me unnecessary stress. I have to remind myself that just because I can compare my kids doesn't mean I should. I often feel guilty (or feel judged) if I brag about something one girl is doing if I don't balance it out with some praise or a cute story about her sister. Maybe all parents share that same feeling. Bottom line is, they are each undoubtedly unique, and I love them (equally) with all my heart.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Twins at Two
My girls turned two about a month ago. For a few days there, I thought they may have also turned terrible, but it passed, like all things do. They're not terrible at all. It may just be me, but I love this age (theirs, not mine). I've loved raising toddlers in general. They are so much fun, and so smart. I find that I enjoy so many things so much more because I'm enjoying it through my children. I have so much fun watching them have fun. Before parenthood, you just can't quite grasp that. You have nieces or nephews, or take care of friends' kids on occasion, but it's not the same. With your own kids, when you've watched them change from sleepy little lumps to smiling, giggling, rolling, waving, clapping, talking little people, when you've put in unthinkable amounts of time and energy to this little person... you help them, you teach them, you practice with them...it's so rewarding to see them learn and experience new things. You see a ladybug for the first time again. You get excited about heavy machinery working on the side of the road, because your kids are excited to see a bulldozer. You can think of no better way to spend a Saturday than a day at the zoo, because you can't wait to see your child's face when they see an elephant up close. You see your child rocking and shushing her little baby doll saying "it's okay baby, shh, shh" and you see yourself. It's incredible.
Some of the things we are working on at age two are potty training (round one didn't take, gearing up for round two), the transition to big-girl beds (has to happen soon, they're ready, I'm not), and the occasional tantrum or biting episode.
I'm feeling pretty relaxed about potty training. I would like it to happen, but I just don't think we're going to be early birds in that department. I'm not going to push it too much, but I will give opportunity (running around bottomless), and encouragement (mini- M&M's), and we'll see how it goes. I've cleaned up a lot of accidents so far, and it can get a little overwhelming, so we'll take it slow. For all of us.
The transition to big girl beds is a necessity. We've had a few incidences of the girls climbing into each others cribs, and even a crib swap one day. For safety, it's necessary, but I was really hoping to keep them contained longer. Sigh. I may have another sleep deprivation blog to write soon. The sleep was nice while it lasted.
The tantrums and biting are manageable. I'm finding distraction to be very good at stopping a tantrum before it starts. Like all kids, when they're rested, fed, and paid attention to, they thrive, so we just try to keep on top of those things. Only one of my girls has done the biting (always to her poor sister), and it's probably happened about 4 or 5 times. I know it's normal, so I'm not freaked out, but it's still unpleasant to deal with. One, because I feel like my child is stressed and can't cope with her feelings and I want to help her. Two, because my other child gets hurt. It sucks. So I'm doing what the books say. Label feelings, be firm, be consistent, pay attention to the hurt child, set them up for success, etc. I think it's all good advice, so I'll keep following it, and I'm sure with time it will improve.
Today, my girls took all of the cushions off of the couches and were jumping on them, saying 'that's awesome!' over and over. I've never heard them say that before, and I have no idea where they heard it. It was awesome. So that's two right now. Every day I think I would love to have another one, so it must be pretty good.
Some of the things we are working on at age two are potty training (round one didn't take, gearing up for round two), the transition to big-girl beds (has to happen soon, they're ready, I'm not), and the occasional tantrum or biting episode.
I'm feeling pretty relaxed about potty training. I would like it to happen, but I just don't think we're going to be early birds in that department. I'm not going to push it too much, but I will give opportunity (running around bottomless), and encouragement (mini- M&M's), and we'll see how it goes. I've cleaned up a lot of accidents so far, and it can get a little overwhelming, so we'll take it slow. For all of us.
The transition to big girl beds is a necessity. We've had a few incidences of the girls climbing into each others cribs, and even a crib swap one day. For safety, it's necessary, but I was really hoping to keep them contained longer. Sigh. I may have another sleep deprivation blog to write soon. The sleep was nice while it lasted.
The tantrums and biting are manageable. I'm finding distraction to be very good at stopping a tantrum before it starts. Like all kids, when they're rested, fed, and paid attention to, they thrive, so we just try to keep on top of those things. Only one of my girls has done the biting (always to her poor sister), and it's probably happened about 4 or 5 times. I know it's normal, so I'm not freaked out, but it's still unpleasant to deal with. One, because I feel like my child is stressed and can't cope with her feelings and I want to help her. Two, because my other child gets hurt. It sucks. So I'm doing what the books say. Label feelings, be firm, be consistent, pay attention to the hurt child, set them up for success, etc. I think it's all good advice, so I'll keep following it, and I'm sure with time it will improve.
Today, my girls took all of the cushions off of the couches and were jumping on them, saying 'that's awesome!' over and over. I've never heard them say that before, and I have no idea where they heard it. It was awesome. So that's two right now. Every day I think I would love to have another one, so it must be pretty good.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Sleep in that first year
It's too bad I didn't have energy to blog in that first year home with my babies, or my second year, I guess. Man, time goes by fast (they just turned two). I'm sure I would have had a lot to talk about, but of course the memories are a little foggy now. I know that a lot of my time and energy revolved around trying to get babies to sleep. For at least 8 or 9 months, that was a huge focus. I exclusively breastfed my girls (except for their first feed or two, because of complications from my delivery). Breastfeeding was great, and it was a very positive experience overall. The one drawback was that it meant the nighttime feeding/parenting quickly became my sole responsibility. My husband was helpful for the first few nights, getting us positioned & burping, etc., but once he returned to work I didn't see the point in waking him up to change diapers when I was already awake. It took more time and energy to wake him, so I preferred to just do it myself. I quickly learned what would get me back to sleep the fastest (which led to a few bad habits later on). And so began my saga of chronic, severe sleep deprivation.
The beginning didn't start out too bad. Both girls sorted out the night vs. day thing fairly quickly and would eat quickly and be back asleep (there were a few nights of 3 a.m. rocking sessions, which seemed endless at the time, but I don't think it was many). It was around 4 months or so that I got greedy. They had both had 2 nights of 5-6 hour stretches of sleep, and I wanted more. I had read about this miraculous 'dream feed', where you feed your baby (before you go to bed) to fill their tummy when they're still asleep, and it should help them last until morning. This strategy totally backfired for me. Pretty much immediately, one of my daughters began waking VERY frequently. Like every hour (or less). We struggled with it for months. I tried a few methods halfheartedly to try to sleep train her, but nothing plays with your emotions quite like sleep training your baby. And I was so exhausted I wasn't mentally strong enough to cope with it. If I fed her, I could get back to bed, so that's what I did. Over, and over and over. Every night. It sounds awful, and it really was. Insert another in baby in there who needed to feed once or twice, and it was constant. On a positive note, both girls usually went to bed quite easily at bedtime. I would get a 2 hour stretch from 7 pm to 9 pm, (I didn't go to bed at that time because I just wanted to feel normal and relax without babies). And then at nine, my anxiety would start, my heart would pound and I would dread the night. I'm so sorry if someone is reading this and feeling discouraged. I have to say that if I had followed my babies' cues in the beginning, I think the sleep situation would have been much different. What finally changed it was my mom. Around 8 months or so she volunteered to help me soothe my baby back to sleep without the breast (my husband wanted to let her cry it out, but I couldn't handle it). We spent two nights at my mom's house and she let me sleep while she rocked and soothed my baby through the night. The third and fourth nights were tough, but I rocked her, and shushed her, and patted her bum back to sleep. No more night feedings. She still woke up one or two times a night, for a few more months, but it was nothing in comparison. You become accustomed to waking up, so one or two times was totally manageable. My other daughter, in the midst of all of this, was a very good sleeper. At seven months I moved her into a separate bedroom from her sister, because I didn't think it was fair for her to have to go through sleep training when she didn't need it. I'm sure she would have been that baby that sleeps through the night at 6 or 8 weeks, but because her sister wasn't that baby, it affected her sleep too. Anyways, that was the nighttime sleep.
The daytime was another story. Let's just say that figuring out a baby's sleep pattern is one of the toughest codes to crack. And then it changes, it changes again, and then again. 4 naps, 3 naps, 2 naps, 1 nap. And there's always an awkward in-between time where it's too many or not enough. No one has an answer for this except for your baby, and they're not the best communicators. Are they under-tired? Are they overtired? Are they in pain? What is it? You're tired, why don't you want to sleep? What did I do yesterday that worked and why isn't it working today? These are the thoughts that my days revolved around for months. It took so much time and energy to get my tired babies to sleep, and then the time they slept would be so short, and they'd be overtired. It was such a vicious cycle. I remember the day vividly when both of my daughters went down for a nap at the same time and they slept for almost 2 hours. At the same time. And then they did it again in the afternoon (so did I). They were nine months old when this happened. So for the last 2 months of my maternity leave, I enjoyed some blissful days with happy, rested girls, and I was a happy, rested mommy.
Reading this, I realize how negative it sounds. Sleep deprivation has been the biggest challenge I have dealt with as a parent. But that first year also included countless incredible moments, and I would do it all again.
The beginning didn't start out too bad. Both girls sorted out the night vs. day thing fairly quickly and would eat quickly and be back asleep (there were a few nights of 3 a.m. rocking sessions, which seemed endless at the time, but I don't think it was many). It was around 4 months or so that I got greedy. They had both had 2 nights of 5-6 hour stretches of sleep, and I wanted more. I had read about this miraculous 'dream feed', where you feed your baby (before you go to bed) to fill their tummy when they're still asleep, and it should help them last until morning. This strategy totally backfired for me. Pretty much immediately, one of my daughters began waking VERY frequently. Like every hour (or less). We struggled with it for months. I tried a few methods halfheartedly to try to sleep train her, but nothing plays with your emotions quite like sleep training your baby. And I was so exhausted I wasn't mentally strong enough to cope with it. If I fed her, I could get back to bed, so that's what I did. Over, and over and over. Every night. It sounds awful, and it really was. Insert another in baby in there who needed to feed once or twice, and it was constant. On a positive note, both girls usually went to bed quite easily at bedtime. I would get a 2 hour stretch from 7 pm to 9 pm, (I didn't go to bed at that time because I just wanted to feel normal and relax without babies). And then at nine, my anxiety would start, my heart would pound and I would dread the night. I'm so sorry if someone is reading this and feeling discouraged. I have to say that if I had followed my babies' cues in the beginning, I think the sleep situation would have been much different. What finally changed it was my mom. Around 8 months or so she volunteered to help me soothe my baby back to sleep without the breast (my husband wanted to let her cry it out, but I couldn't handle it). We spent two nights at my mom's house and she let me sleep while she rocked and soothed my baby through the night. The third and fourth nights were tough, but I rocked her, and shushed her, and patted her bum back to sleep. No more night feedings. She still woke up one or two times a night, for a few more months, but it was nothing in comparison. You become accustomed to waking up, so one or two times was totally manageable. My other daughter, in the midst of all of this, was a very good sleeper. At seven months I moved her into a separate bedroom from her sister, because I didn't think it was fair for her to have to go through sleep training when she didn't need it. I'm sure she would have been that baby that sleeps through the night at 6 or 8 weeks, but because her sister wasn't that baby, it affected her sleep too. Anyways, that was the nighttime sleep.
The daytime was another story. Let's just say that figuring out a baby's sleep pattern is one of the toughest codes to crack. And then it changes, it changes again, and then again. 4 naps, 3 naps, 2 naps, 1 nap. And there's always an awkward in-between time where it's too many or not enough. No one has an answer for this except for your baby, and they're not the best communicators. Are they under-tired? Are they overtired? Are they in pain? What is it? You're tired, why don't you want to sleep? What did I do yesterday that worked and why isn't it working today? These are the thoughts that my days revolved around for months. It took so much time and energy to get my tired babies to sleep, and then the time they slept would be so short, and they'd be overtired. It was such a vicious cycle. I remember the day vividly when both of my daughters went down for a nap at the same time and they slept for almost 2 hours. At the same time. And then they did it again in the afternoon (so did I). They were nine months old when this happened. So for the last 2 months of my maternity leave, I enjoyed some blissful days with happy, rested girls, and I was a happy, rested mommy.
Reading this, I realize how negative it sounds. Sleep deprivation has been the biggest challenge I have dealt with as a parent. But that first year also included countless incredible moments, and I would do it all again.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
A little history...
I found out I was pregnant with twins at 9 or 10 weeks into my pregnancy. I wasn't feeling great, and I had convinced myself I had gallstones (I'm a bit of a hypochondriac, or at least I used to be, before I had kids to distract me). My Dr. agreed to an early ultrasound to rule out gallstones and to confirm my dates. And there were two. No gallstones. Two babies. A lot of people ask what my reaction was, and all I remember saying was 'Jesus Christ', and feeling my heart beat a million times a minute. I don't think I really believed it, but there they were on the screen, two little fluttering hearts. Life can change in an instant.
We didn't tell anyone for awhile, because I didn't believe it, and I worried that because we found out so early maybe it was still a possibility that we could lose one. They say a lot of pregnancies start out as twins, and like most pregnant women, I read a lot, and then I worried a lot. But thankfully, they stayed.
I had a wonderful pregnancy, and I can honestly say I loved being pregnant. My morning sickness went away at 12 weeks, I felt good, I worked until 34 weeks and I only stopped working because the books said I should, and I gained around 40-45 pounds. My Dr. didn't seem to worry about anything. The only bad thing was that at around 24 weeks they started doing ultrasounds every 2 weeks until the end. Don't get me wrong, I loved seeing my babies, but making a pregnant woman hold her bladder like that was pure torture.
I do remember being constantly stressed that I was going to go into preterm labor, because that's what all of the books warned me about. In my multiples prenatal class, they didn't take us on a tour of the L & D unit, they took us to the NICU, because that's where most of us were going to spend some time (and I think out of ten couples in the class, we were the only ones who didn't have our babies there, so I guess I can't blame them). When I was pregnant, a mom of twins told me that at 34 weeks, she got out of bed in the morning and her water broke. From that day on, every morning I would get out of bed very slowly, hold my breath, and hope for the best.
It turned out we didn't go into preterm labor, we didn't go into labor at all. When my non-stress test ultrasound at 37 weeks showed that Baby A was about 7 lbs. and Baby B was about 6 lbs., they decided that 13 lbs in one uterus was enough, so we were scheduled for an induction. The labor went relatively smoothly... I had been dilated 3 cm for a few weeks already, I was induced at 9 a.m., I was 5-6 cm by early afternoon so they broke my water, and then things got pretty intense. I asked for an epidural at 7 cm, it only took on half my body (very strange feeling to have contraction ripping through only half of you!), so at 8 cm they had to take it out and do it again. I was in the OR/delivery room at around 11 p.m. There are couple of things are unique about a twin delivery. Epidurals are VERY STRONGLY recommended. I wanted to try without, but my Dr. discouraged it because of the risk of C/S being so high. I ultimately decided that I didn't want to be awake for Baby A's birth and unconscious for Baby B's. You have to deliver in an operating room, not a labor and delivery room, again because of the increased risk of C/S. Which means you can only have one person there. That was fine, because my husband was awesome, but I think it would have been a great experience for my mom to see her grandchildren come into the world. I've been lucky enough to witness a few births, and it's incredible.
My babies almost had different birthdays. I started pushing with the nurses at around 11:30 or so, but I was apparently a pretty good pusher, so they made me stop and wait for the doctor. We hung out for a bit (with my legs up in stirrups, a spotlight on my perineum, and who knows how many people in the room - just hangin'), and then (after my Dr. had dropped a box of donuts off at the nurses desk) I started pushing again sometime before midnight. At 12:08, I heard the most wonderful words I've ever heard: 'It's a girl!' and 8 minutes later I heard them again: 'It's another girl!'. It is difficult to keep the sexes of twins under wraps until delivery (especially with 10 ultrasounds), but we managed to wait for the surprise. My future flashed in front of me briefly, and I was so, so happy.
We didn't tell anyone for awhile, because I didn't believe it, and I worried that because we found out so early maybe it was still a possibility that we could lose one. They say a lot of pregnancies start out as twins, and like most pregnant women, I read a lot, and then I worried a lot. But thankfully, they stayed.
I had a wonderful pregnancy, and I can honestly say I loved being pregnant. My morning sickness went away at 12 weeks, I felt good, I worked until 34 weeks and I only stopped working because the books said I should, and I gained around 40-45 pounds. My Dr. didn't seem to worry about anything. The only bad thing was that at around 24 weeks they started doing ultrasounds every 2 weeks until the end. Don't get me wrong, I loved seeing my babies, but making a pregnant woman hold her bladder like that was pure torture.
I do remember being constantly stressed that I was going to go into preterm labor, because that's what all of the books warned me about. In my multiples prenatal class, they didn't take us on a tour of the L & D unit, they took us to the NICU, because that's where most of us were going to spend some time (and I think out of ten couples in the class, we were the only ones who didn't have our babies there, so I guess I can't blame them). When I was pregnant, a mom of twins told me that at 34 weeks, she got out of bed in the morning and her water broke. From that day on, every morning I would get out of bed very slowly, hold my breath, and hope for the best.
It turned out we didn't go into preterm labor, we didn't go into labor at all. When my non-stress test ultrasound at 37 weeks showed that Baby A was about 7 lbs. and Baby B was about 6 lbs., they decided that 13 lbs in one uterus was enough, so we were scheduled for an induction. The labor went relatively smoothly... I had been dilated 3 cm for a few weeks already, I was induced at 9 a.m., I was 5-6 cm by early afternoon so they broke my water, and then things got pretty intense. I asked for an epidural at 7 cm, it only took on half my body (very strange feeling to have contraction ripping through only half of you!), so at 8 cm they had to take it out and do it again. I was in the OR/delivery room at around 11 p.m. There are couple of things are unique about a twin delivery. Epidurals are VERY STRONGLY recommended. I wanted to try without, but my Dr. discouraged it because of the risk of C/S being so high. I ultimately decided that I didn't want to be awake for Baby A's birth and unconscious for Baby B's. You have to deliver in an operating room, not a labor and delivery room, again because of the increased risk of C/S. Which means you can only have one person there. That was fine, because my husband was awesome, but I think it would have been a great experience for my mom to see her grandchildren come into the world. I've been lucky enough to witness a few births, and it's incredible.
My babies almost had different birthdays. I started pushing with the nurses at around 11:30 or so, but I was apparently a pretty good pusher, so they made me stop and wait for the doctor. We hung out for a bit (with my legs up in stirrups, a spotlight on my perineum, and who knows how many people in the room - just hangin'), and then (after my Dr. had dropped a box of donuts off at the nurses desk) I started pushing again sometime before midnight. At 12:08, I heard the most wonderful words I've ever heard: 'It's a girl!' and 8 minutes later I heard them again: 'It's another girl!'. It is difficult to keep the sexes of twins under wraps until delivery (especially with 10 ultrasounds), but we managed to wait for the surprise. My future flashed in front of me briefly, and I was so, so happy.
Friday, July 30, 2010
First time blogger
I've been thinking about doing this for awhile, for a couple of reasons. One, when I first found out I was pregnant with twins, I was desperate for information on everything twin-related. There was never enough, so I decided I would share. I'm sure with the skyrocketing twin births now that blogs like mine are in abundance, but I thought I would put my thoughts out there anyways. Which brings me to my second reason; writing down my thoughts. I've never kept a journal, but I want to start writing things down, because I'll forget them. I know I've already forgotten cute things my daughters were doing just months ago, because at the time I either thought they'd never stop, or that I'd never forget. Boo. So hopefully this will help me to preserve my beautiful memories (and perhaps some not-so-beautiful ones) that time will otherwise undoubtedly wash away.
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