- Miss M, after much thought about why she was screaming in the car - "I'm just crying."
- Miss A, to an elk grazing on the side of the road - "Goodbye Elk! Enjoy your salad!"
- Miss M, laying her head on my chest while I was laying down - "Mommy, where did your other booby go?
- Miss M - "You're very clever daddy."
- Miss A - "Does Cousin live on Earth mommy?"
- Me - "Are you tired?", Miss M - "No, I don't have yawns."
- Me - "Who are you calling?", Miss M - "China."
- Miss A, after a pee on the potty - "Fantastic!"
- Miss M to Miss A - "Be careful sweetheart the water is too warm."
- Miss M - "My pom-pom is beautiful! It looks like a firework!"
- Miss A, presenting herself to me in the kitchen - "At your service!"
- Both - "Polka-bots."
- Miss M to Me, after I went to the washroom - "Bravo Mommy! I'm really proud of you!"
- Miss A to her Daddy, who was wearing black long underwear - "You're dressed like a prince Daddy! Let's dance! La, la, la la..."
- Miss A to her Grandpa - "Do you have little boobies Poppa?"
- Miss M, wide-eyed, who thought Santa was coming to the house momentarily - "I have to go upstairs and do some laundry." (She wanted to get away, that's the best excuse she could think of).
- Miss M - "Where's Canada?" Me - "We're in Canada now, we live in Canada". Miss M - "I live in Canada, it's my home and native land".
- Me to Miss M - "Do you need to use the potty?" Miss M - "No, I went yesterday", followed by "I went on Saturday".
- Miss A - "Where's Daddy going?". Me - "To the gym, to exercise". Miss A - "Is he going to run? Is he going to run like the wind?".
- Miss A, frustrated with a task beyond her abilities - "I can't do it! I'm not bigger yet! I'm not a mommy!" (She has also used "I'm not a daddy").
- Me to Miss M - "Please get your finger out of Mommy's ear", Miss M - "But it's the perfect fit!"
- Miss M to the babysitter - "You have necklaces on your teeth." The babysitter - "No, they're braces." Miss M - "Oh...bracelets!"
- Me to Miss M - "Did you pee in your bed last night?" Miss M - "No, it got wet all by itself."
- Miss M, opening the door for me when I got home from work - "Hello Mommy, welcome to our house!"
- Miss M to Miss A, who was 'reading' a book - "What does it say, Miss A?" Miss A, pointing at the words with her finger - "It says... always cooperate with your Mommy."
- Miss A, as we were cuddling in her sister's bed to read a story - "Daddy can sleep in my bed tonight Mommy, let's mix it up".
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
From the Mouths of My Babes
This blog is my journal, more or less, because I want to document this time in my life. So, I've decided that this is where I will write down all of those wonderful things that my children say. I'm sure I will be adding to this entry frequently, but here's a start (collected since September 2010):
Sunday, March 6, 2011
A Perfect Pair
Oh, the time I spend looking. Searching. Hunting. If Miss A has one thing, Miss M must have the match, and vice versa. There is 2 of almost everything in this house. If not a duplicate, a variation. For Cinderella there is Belle. For Mickey there is Minnie. For cow there is pig. Blue crocs, pink crocs. Yellow cup, purple cup. It used to be high chairs, exer-saucers, bouncy chairs, Bumbos, you name it, we have two. Now it's mainly toys. And potties. We have four of those. My husband recently called me an 'inventory freak'. He's right, I am. Since my girls were born, I've counted. Everything. Before I went anywhere, or left anywhere, I had to do inventory. 2 soothers, 2 blankies, 2 bibs, 2 (or 4, or 6) toys, 4 socks, 4 shoes, 4 mittens, etc. It gets worse as they get older, because a) I have less control over where things go and b) not only does it drive me crazy when something gets left behind, they notice and they drive me crazy too. "Where's pig Mommy? We have to find pig. Where is he Mommy? Can you find him? No, you look upstairs Mommy. Please, Mommy?" It doesn't stop, which is why I hunt, and why I count.
Is two of everything necessary? No, definitely not. The girls share very well for 2 1/2 year-olds, in my opinion. I think this is one of the benefits of twin-ship, that sharing is a concept learned from very early on. However, they also learn interactive play from early on, which is one reason why we do have so many duplicates. Not that they can't share, but because they like to play together so much, and having two of the same toy often makes that easier for them. Instead of negotiating (or fighting) about whose turn it is, it's easier for me not to have to referee, and nicer for them to each have their own. And I can't lie, I love to see 2 little pairs of fairy wings running around the corner, or two trucks racing each other across the kitchen floor.
But more important than any other pair is the pair of them. What a gift. What a bond. I've marveled at it since they were infants. My girls truly are the perfect pair. They do everything together, and when they're apart (rarely) they're each asking about the other. They play together, sing together, dance together, giggle in the dark together, comfort each other, and truly love one another. So when I hear almost daily from someone who tells me they want twins, it's hard not to think, 'yeah, you do'.
Is two of everything necessary? No, definitely not. The girls share very well for 2 1/2 year-olds, in my opinion. I think this is one of the benefits of twin-ship, that sharing is a concept learned from very early on. However, they also learn interactive play from early on, which is one reason why we do have so many duplicates. Not that they can't share, but because they like to play together so much, and having two of the same toy often makes that easier for them. Instead of negotiating (or fighting) about whose turn it is, it's easier for me not to have to referee, and nicer for them to each have their own. And I can't lie, I love to see 2 little pairs of fairy wings running around the corner, or two trucks racing each other across the kitchen floor.
But more important than any other pair is the pair of them. What a gift. What a bond. I've marveled at it since they were infants. My girls truly are the perfect pair. They do everything together, and when they're apart (rarely) they're each asking about the other. They play together, sing together, dance together, giggle in the dark together, comfort each other, and truly love one another. So when I hear almost daily from someone who tells me they want twins, it's hard not to think, 'yeah, you do'.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Facing our Fears
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.
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.
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.
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