Better Make It A Double

N again

N has been quite a handful this week, especially with his parents. We had a lot going on for a few days, and he’s been sick, so his tantrumy outbursts and limit pushing are not really a surprise. I think that the reason J and I tend to see the worst of his behavior is at least in part because he feels the safest of all with us, and also the most let down by us when one of us is unable to lift him, or is gone for the day or night. Everyone else can come and go, even though they are missed, but N counts on us to be there every single day. Separation and disruption have always been especially difficult for him.

When I get overwhelmed, I try to remember that both boys are learning and growing at a rate adults can barely fathom. If I learned and changed as much in one week as my toddlers do, I’d be a super-genius by now! It’s quite a roller coaster our little ones are on, full of new skills and words and concepts, and a never-ending quest for independence and autonomy.

What is interesting for me to witness with N is that sometimes he seems visibly relived when we set a clear limit such as a time-out. Afterwards, he calms down, usually sighs, gives me a hug, and we start again. This is especially the case if I am calm myself. It is as if he is relieved that he doesn’t have to negotiate everything by himself, and that we are in charge, and that indeed, the rules are still what he thought they were. This kid needs to know what to expect. Seasoned parents will tell you that this is the case with all kids to some extent (though the most effective methods to get your point across do not seem to me to be identical for all children, and aren’t for mine), but there is nothing like seeing it for yourself. In addition to being reminded of the expectations we have of him, we also have an opportunity to reconnect – to look each other in the eye, to hug, and have one of our increasingly complex conversations. Often we read a story together, and he sits in my lap and leans into me, flexing the soles of his feet against the carpet. I read to him with my chin resting on his head, and all is well again.

Yesterday evening and afternoon were filled with little tantrums and whining, and a lot of energetic song and dance on my part to keep things moving along and get two very tired boys fed, bathed, and into their cribs. It was one of those evenings that took a lot of patience and concentrated effort to get through, and by the time I pulled two dripping, reluctant boys out of the tub, I was feeling like a partially deflated balloon. Boys were diapered, and dressed, Legos were picked up, stories were read just so, and I turned out the light for prayers. Both boys sleep with bunny lovies, a long ago gift from their Omie, and N is particularly attached to his. Last night N decided that bunny was to be summarily evicted, and threw him out of his crib. I knew this was a stall tactic, a new version of the popular toddler game of “I want that, no I don’t want that, no, I do want that!”. I took a deep breath and negotiated that Bunny could serve a time-out in the corner of his crib. “Stay sitting, Bunny!” said N. I picked up each boy and prayed with him one by one, about our day, thanking God for the sunshine that day, and for the people in their lives. They interject their own thanksgivings these days, for a particular playmate or something that happened, or even for applesauce or stuffed animals, ending with their own sleepy Amens. O was last, and on my way out, in the dim light of their ladybug nightlight, I noticed that N was lying in the usual position, on his back, holding Bunny with both hands, Bunny’s ears against his left cheek. His eyes were nearly closed.

Apparently, N caved and Bunny was sprung from his confinement mere moments after being placed there. I smiled, and thought: that’s where we’re different, kiddo...

Here we go again...

O’s bulging fontanel (soft spot) came back yesterday, as well as his fever. We spent the whole morning in the Emergency Room while they checked his blood, his urine, did a nasal swab and a head ultrasound, everything but another spinal tap. All perfectly normal.  Fevers, much less bulging fontanels, with no explanation make doctors very nervous. They eventually sent us home.  This morning the fontanel was a little worse, and his fever, which had disappeared yesterday afternoon, was back again. J took him in to the clinic for a follow-up appointment, and they did another blood test. Again, everything is normal. This would be good, except that they have no explanation for any of this except that it’s probably a virus, and that the fact that he’s acting just fine is great.. I’m so sick of this, and so scared that maybe this is some really rare thing that they don’t know anything about. I’ve always been fonder of the “devil you know’, and this is testing my limits.

Sad little N

This is the only way I can get through the hours of 5-6 pm.

I actually find using a sling with an 8-month-old on the hip easier on my back than I found slinging a 5 pound newborn. Of course, I'm also in better shape now.

The Babes

This is from 6 weeks ago. They're the same length, but different in every other way I can think of. O is on the left.

Mother's Helper

So this is probably a very boring thing to write about, but I’m considering hiring a Mother’s Helper a few hours a week. My MIL comes by a few times a week, but she’s not always available in the evenings when I need to put the boys to bed, and I still feel like I can’t do that on my own. DH works most evenings until after 7. Our routine is as follows: 6ish: bath time, assembly –line style for both boys 6:20ish: Bottle of EBM for one boy and boob for the other one. (They don’t tandem nurse well at night for some reason. They really want to snuggle with whoever is feeding them to the point that they prefer the bottle over breastfeeding in the football hold together on the giant nursing pillow) 7ish: they go down half-awake or asleep, and sometimes cry lightly for 2-5 minutes. This is after some rocking and walking, and maybe topping of the bottled boy with some nursing. They stay down until at least 2 (N) and O stays down until 6:30 is, so no complaints there. N usually only wakes for the one feeding, and I think he needs that. Anyway, I can’t see putting them down by myself using this routine. Do any moms of multiples have a clue as to how to do this? How can I wean them off of needing a feeding session in order to sleep? We can only afford a Mother’s Helper short term, and only because we had a gift of a little bit of money recently. I guess some night I’ll just have to wing it and see what happens.

mama politics suck

Something that has become rather painfully obvious to me since my boys were born is the fact that we live in a very politicized time in motherhood. I seem to have friends who are all over the spectrum. One friend recommended the Babywise books to me (umm, no), and another friend suggested we consider infant potty training and helpfully mentioned that there are special carriers out there that would let me wear my twins all day (umm, also no). Honestly, I actually do a lot of things that the AP crowd seems to value. The boys get only breastmilk, I use cloth diapers, and we do wear the babies some. We co-slept for 4 months. But I also see things a bit differently than I used to, and I’ve been busy finding my own middle ground. For instance, I love breastfeeding my babes, but part of the reason I can tolerate so MANY hours of breastfeeding is that my DH has always given them a bottle of expressed breast milk at night so I can get some sleep. After 14 weeks of bed rest, I needed to rest to be able to take care of twins all day, and so my DH became my partner in breastfeeding. They take bottles of EBM well and regularly, and I am OK with that. Now that I’m at work, they take at least 2 bottles a day, sometimes three.  I’m lucky enough to have a DH that is an extremely equal partner in childcare. A few weeks ago, my very-big-on-AP friend forwards me an article on “ecological breastfeeding”, where I guess you sleep with your baby and nurse in bed at night, never offer a bottle, wear your baby much of the day and don't let others hold them much, etc. I have no problem with anyone doing any of that, but do we really need to be pushing such a high standard on women? And is it REALLY better to BF that way, or do we just wish that more women had the support they need to BF at all? Bfing twins is hard, and I can think of many things that could have stood in my way, so I’m not particularly inclined to be judgmental about other people’s thoughtful choices regarding breastfeeding. I could have had lousy support in the NICU (I had great support), I could have had a less supportive DH, I might never have happened upon the Mothering Multiples book. I might have known the simple fact that few women with twins BF for more than a few weeks, but the fact is, I was clueless about that and it helped. I got great help from a Le Leche League leader who breastfed twins. I was also determined to have just one damn thing go right with my body, and thus Bfing has been very healing for me.

I actually happen to agree with a lot of what Dr. Sears has to say, but it seems that there is a little “movement” of APers out there who have hopped right over the kindly doctor and that some of it is coming from a very judgmental place. I used to read Mothering Magazine, but after the last issue, I decided that this habit had become a weird sort of self-flagellation. I don’t need to pay good money to read articles about how somehow a baby is biologically designed to be stuck to it’s mother 24/7 and that a father is not an acceptable substitute. I don’t need to read about how absolutely crucial those first few moments after birth are to the bonding process when I couldn’t even hold my boys for 24 hours. They still look at me like I invented the sun.

A lot of these ideas seem to be based on how some mythical other culture does things.  I truly think that while there are a million ways to fuck up this motherhood gig, there are also a helluva lot of ways to get it right. I realize that I may be setting up a bit of a straw man ( straw mother?) here, but it reflects some things I’ve encountered in my life recently, and my own attempt to figure out what works for us. The fact that my babies wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for extremely high-tech medical technology, both before and after conception, gives me a new perspective as well.  Any thoughts?

Mama's boys

So, about my boys. N (on the left) is my little firecracker- what you might call an emphatic communicator. He's quick to cry, laugh, cry, squeal, scream, all never for very long. Everything has been a little harder for him- he had reflux, was smaller, has a harder time with sleep. When he nurses, he hums with pleasure, or sometimes just to calm himself down. Then he pops off the breast and grins a milky, gummy grin at me. N sometimes takes about 70% of the energy and time I have for the two boys, and it bums me out. He had colic, and things are getting better with him.
O is my little round O, just like the letter. Chubby and delicious, he is decidedly easygoing. So much that we wonder what the hell could be going on in his head... Our pediatrician said "beware the easy baby", and we try to make sure we give him more attention than he necessarily asks for. He's an enthusiastic nurser, and I think that's where he gets a lot of his needs met as far as touch and affection. He has a sly smile that furthers the impression that there's a lot going on in his head that we can't be privy to quite yet. He's moody in his own way-sometimes full of smiles and other days not unhappy exactly, just quiet. I spend about half my time worrying that my high maintenance boy isn't getting enough help settling down, and the other half worrying that my happy-go-lucky guy is secretly depressed and understimulated.