Mommy Neuroses

So, I’m starting to think I’m becoming slightly (ok, maybe a little more than slightly) neurotic. I’m using the term loosely, of course, as a diagnosis for my growing list of “mom-ish” pet peeves. Now, these pet peeves cause me fairly significant emotional stress at their occurrence. Before I had children, I probably wouldn’t have even blinked an eye at such occurrences. It’s amazing how parenthood changes us in SO many different ways. You’re probably wondering about these pet peeves…here’s a short list:

1). Solicitors ringing my doorbell during nap time. Why this bothers me: It’s loud and my bulldog goes ballistic. Getting all three babies asleep at the same time is like winning an Olympic gold medal (so I would think). When there is a taped sign over my doorbell that says, “don’t ring,” I expect NO ONE to ring my doorbell…especially during nap time. Common sense, solicitors, common sense.

2). Drivers that tailgate. Why this bothers me: I’m driving a minivan, which obviously means the likelihood of children in my car is high. Not to mention the two infant car seats that are clearly visible through the back window. Also, I’m not an overly cautious driver. I keep up with traffic and I’m respectful of the left-hand “fast” lane rules. There should be no reason to tailgate my minivan.

3). Cheetos and/or cheesy snacks. – ’nuff said.

4). People who bring their unruly children to not so child-friendly places (nice restaurants, salons, etc.). Okay, if your sitter cancels on you at the last minute and you absolutely HAVE to bring your child, fine…but don’t act like he/she has a right to disturb the peace. Be apologetic, and if it gets really bad, leave. Don’t punish those of us who did pay a sitter. Oh, and don’t pretend you’re unaware your children are unruly. Chuck E. Cheese’s was invented for a reason.

5). The upsell at the drive-thru. Why this bothers me: I’m usually short of time when going through the drive-thru, and often have crying babies in the back. It’s fast food, for gosh sake. I know what I want. You don’t need to try to sell me your Angus Deluxe Burger, and then cut me off when I start talking by switching to the real drive-thru dispatcher. Annoying.

So, there you have it. I sound like a meanie, but these are [some of] the things that drive me crazy now that I’m a mommy. Hey, nobody’s perfect, right?! I could also go on to list all the things I’ve become obsessive compulsive about since having children. Darn mommy neuroses…

…and to Cap it all off

::Trend Alert:: What’s the newest trend in baby accessories? The elusive CranioCap. What, might you ask, is that? And, where can you get one?! Allow me to enlighten you. According to www.gillettechildrens.org, the definition of “craniocap” is “a cranial orthosis custom-made for your baby.” In layman’s terms, it’s a helmet for babies with flat heads. Now, this flat head thing is a fairly new medical issue in baby world, and it’s happening mostly because of the “back is best” movement. In most cases, it’s not a major issue and it’s easily correctable. The long and short of it is this: some babies come into the world with a preference for lying on one side of the head. Since it is now recommended to place babies on their backs to sleep, a growing number of babies are developing flat spots on the preferred side. The CranioCap was created to ensure infant cranio-perfection (among other things).

So, as if I don’t have enough on my plate these days, BOTH Joey and Eliza are now sporting the helmet look. This adds some daily helmet maintenance and baby washing to my already busy routine. Great. If I have to remember to do ONE more thing in my day, I might lose my mind completely. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m still working on losing the pregnesia from this past pregnancy. I have my fingers crossed that this helmet stage will be as short-lived as possible.

In all honesty, though, it’s not that bad. It didn’t take long for Joey and Eliza to get used to wearing the Cap (for 22 hours a day), and it’s already starting to work it’s magic. It’s also kind of nice the babies’ heads are protected from the occasional topple-over from their newest skill, sitting up. Oh, and they’re also protected from the occasional (not so gentle) love taps from big sister Linnea. Plus, it’s kind of fun to run into other mommies of helmeted babies while running errands…always sparks interesting conversations.

Anyway, just when I’m thinking, ‘jeez, God, could you put one more thing on my plate?’ I remind myself that I’m lucky. I’m lucky to have two healthy, strong babies. In reality, there could be MUCH more on my plate. I’m extremely thankful I have happy, healthy babies that are headed to perfection.

Everyone Loses it Sometimes…

Back in February, my husband started asking what I’d like for my birthday. Did I want a party? No. Did I want dinner with friends and/or family? Eh. I told him I’d like a night in a hotel…BY MYSELF. He wasn’t all that pleased by the “by myself” part, but I think he understood. Well, as it turns out, I got my birthday present early. Here’s the story:

Mid February I had my one and only (to date) complete meltdown since the birth of the babies. I called my husband at about 11am and told him I was “done.” I couldn’t take the crying. My patience level, which is typically very high, was worn to  zero (or maybe even negative). I was tired, frustrated, and I had just plain had it. I was snapping at Linnea, which I knew was unfair, but I was completely out of deep breaths and counts to 10. Heck, I even snapped at poor Ringo (the bulldog).

After I was done with my ranting and raving, I hung up the phone, and tried to compose myself. I had to get through the day somehow. About 30 minutes later, my husband called back and said, “I’ll be home in a hour. Pack your things. You’re done for today and you’re staying at The Westin tonight.” Though I hadn’t outright asked for one, my husband knew I needed a break. Thankful as I was, I was also stunned by the surprise. I’m not going to lie, getting everything ready at the drop of a hat to go away for the night wasn’t exactly easy. My mind raced with the following thoughts: Will Shane be able to handle all three babies by himself? Maybe I should call his mom to come help. It would be nice if Shane could meet me for dinner. When did I pump last? Will the babies have enough milk? I guess I could pull some out of the freezer. Oh, I’ll have to bring my pump and breastmilk storage bags to the hotel tonight. What will Linnea have for dinner? I think we’re out of fruit. Maybe I’ll stop at the grocery store and bring something home before I head to the hotel. Jeez, do I even have any clean clothes? What will I wear if I go out to dinner? I might just have to pick something up and eat it in the hotel room, or get room service. Nah, too expensive. I wonder if I have time to do a load of laundry. Oh, but I don’t dry my jeans anyway. Ugh.  ….. I could go on and on, but I’m guessing you get the point.

So, I left the house at 3pm. My first stop…Hot Mama, of course! I figured I’d solve my ‘no clothes’ problem. I was expecting to drop a significant chunk of change at Hot Mama, so I called my husband to get the okay. He hasn’t ever actually said, “no,” but I think he appreciates the call. It makes him feel respected and important. Anyway, I ended up getting a couple tops and a new pair of William Rast jeans. On a side note, William Rast: larger waist + smaller legs = great post-pregnancy jeans. Hudson Jeans also fit this category. I tried on clothes and chatted with the girls for an hour and a half and was on my way. The rest of my evening included dinner with Shane and Linnea at Crave (who wants to eat alone?), a nice, hot bath, and a champagne toast to my freedom. Aaahhhhhhh.

I loved my alone time. It was refreshing and much-needed. I was a version of my former self for a night and it felt good. I highly recommend it. Yes, it takes letting go of control at home, and it might also take a little re-prioritizing and some household budget adjustment, but it’s WELL worth it. I mean, don’t put a price on your sanity, people! As Mufasa puts it in The Lion King, “Remember who you are.” I believe if we remember who we are, we don’t completely lose it. Sometimes remembering means being by yourself. Make it happen. As I got in my car to return home the next morning, I took a deep breath and I told myself, “I’m a mother of 3 under 3 and I CAN DO THIS.”  …haven’t had a meltdown since.

From Dinner until Dusk…

My original plan for this post was to write about 1 hour of my day, specifically 6-7pm. As the events of 6-7pm unfolded, I decided to tweak the plan and extend the time slot by half an hour. This allowed me to start with dinner time and end with the bed time routine. I figured it might be more interesting to read how I multitask and complete this busy time of day (on my own – it’s Daddy’s night out). Here goes:

6:00pm – I’m returning from a 20-minute walk with the kids. I have Linnea and Eliza in the double stroller and Joey in the Baby Bjorn (yes, traffic stopped at the mere sight of us). The bouncers are still outside from earlier outdoor play, so I take Joey out of the Baby Bjorn, put him in a bouncer and bring him inside. Next, I take Eliza out of the stroller, put her in the other bouncer, and bring her inside. I go back to get Linnea, but she wants to stay outside. I say, “Mommy’s going inside. Bye bye, Linnea!” It FINALLY works…she decides she doesn’t want to be left alone, and follows me through the back door.

I take Linnea’s shoes off and start the process of getting Ringo (our bulldog) his dinner. Yes, I’m feeding the dog first. Everyone else is content, so why not? First, though, I really need a glass of water. Linnea is no longer content, so I pull out the portable DVD player and pop in Sleeping Beauty. I decide to start Linnea’s dinner. Lets make it easy – yogurt. Poor Ringo is watching and looking at me like ‘what?!’  Eliza starts getting fussy, so I give her a binky and that quiets her down. Ok, back to Ringo’s dinner. I put a hot dog in the microwave and go to the pantry for his dog food. Joey is fussing now, so I go to the living room and get him a toy. Ringo grunts and lies on the floor like ‘whatEVER.‘ Now, back to the darn hot dog. I have to cut Ringo’s hot dog into tiny pieces and mix it into his regular food (otherwise he won’t eat – yea, high maintenance). Oops, I’m distracted again by Linnea. I’ve forgotten to actually start her movie, and now she wants mac n cheese. So, I prepare the rest of Linnea’s dinner and get her situated to eat. I finally get back to Ringo’s dinner and he’s eating too.

Joey has completely lost it and is crying, so I put him on the activity mat. Linnea and Ringo are eating, Joey is on the activity mat, and Eliza is still in the bouncer. I load and run the dishwasher and tidy up the kitchen. “What’s that? More water, Linnea?” No problem…I even manage to stop and smile with Eliza for a minute on my way back to tidying the kitchen. Then, I remember I need to clip Eliza’s nails (gotta keep ‘em super short or she’ll gouge her face). Nails clipped. Piece of cake. Linnea’s done with dinner. We go to the bathroom to wash her hands and brush her teeth. Eliza is starting to lose it. I move her to the activity mat. All babies are content again (momentarily).

6:30pm – I return to the kitchen and wash about 5 bottles. When I’m finished, I get Ringo more water, and head off to change Joey and Eliza into their pajamas. Linnea and I have a major conversation about Disney princesses and their princes while I change Joey and Eliza (oh, and Eliza has a complete blow out and gets poop all over – classic). When Linnea sees Eliza’s explosion, she informs me she’s “poopy too.” Thanks, Linnea, as if I didn’t smell you.

7:00pm – As I’m cleaning and changing Eliza, Joey is getting more and more hysterical in his crib. Clearly he doesn’t appreciate being put in his crib without being fed first. Oh, Joey. I tell Linnea to go put away her puzzles while I feed Joey. She trots of happily (mind you, she still hasn’t been changed…poor kid). Eliza actually falls asleep while I’m feeding Joey. Wow. So, I tell Linnea it’s her turn…then Eliza wakes up fiercely. Sorry, Linnea, you’re going to have to wait. My beautiful, wonderful, gentle, quiet, patient 2.5 year old daughter hardly whines. Seeming wise way beyond her years, it’s as if she knows it won’t help to throw a tantrum. Thank you, my precious precious child. Linnea comes into the nursery while I’m feeding Eliza. Joey is already asleep in the crib and Eliza is halfway through her bottle with her eyes closed. Linnea looks up at me with tired eyes and whispers, “Nea’s turn?” What I wouldn’t give to scoop her up into my arms and attack her with kisses. Making her wait is torture, especially since she is being SO good about it. I just want to praise her and thank her profusely for acting like a big girl. I whisper back, “Eliza’s almost done. Just a few more minutes.” Keep in mind, I’ve already said this to Linnea about 20 times. Linnea stands in front of me, places her head in my lap, and rocks back and forth with me as I rock Eliza. I’m feeding Eliza with one hand, and scratching Linnea’s back with the other as my heart completely melts.

7:20pm – It’s finally Linnea’s turn. I change her diaper (by now she needs Desitin) and put on her jammies. Then, I realize I haven’t put clean sheets on her bed yet. Ugh, one more thing to do. So, Linnea is STILL patient as I quickly make her bed. I guess everyone big and small appreciate clean sheets! We go get her milk, warm it up, and head to our chair to read some books. We read 4 books and walk to her room together. I turn out her light and turn on her sound machine. We say her prayers. I say, “good night, my little love. I love you SO much.” She says, “Nite nite, Mommy. I love you.”

7:30 – My babies are all quiet. It’s MY turn now.

Breakin’ the Rules

I am not proud to admit that I have officially broken just about every Hot Mama rule. I never thought I’d be that mom…and then I had twins. I literally don’t have time to take care of myself. I’m just not a priority, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s just the way it’s going to be for a while. Yes, I feel bad about it occasionally, but I remind myself that these early years of my babies’ lives will go by in a flash. Then I’ll have time to refocus and be “me” again. Oh, and if you’re wondering how I’m even writing this blog post…Linnea is in her room calling for me (she’s supposed to be napping), Eliza is asleep in her crib, Joey is next to me in the swing watching Baby Einstein, and I’m pumping as I type with one hand and hold/eat my sandwich with the other (doesn’t make for fast typing, but it gets the job done).

Becoming a parent involves sacrifice and adjustment. It’s part of being responsible for another life. So, overall, I’m okay with breaking the rules. It’s only temporary anyway. I’ll be that mom for a while. Now, let me count the ways:

1). I no longer shower on a daily basis. I’m lucky to shower every other day…and shaving, what’s shaving? I’ll have to figure this one out before shorts season is here to stay. When I do shower, I no longer dry and straighten my hair. It goes right into a ponytail.

2). I rarely (and I mean rarely) put on makeup. It was difficult to give up my makeup, but at the end of the day, it annoyed me to have to take it off. I’d rather have the extra couple minutes of sleep. Before bed, I would stand at the bathroom sink listening to my husband already sawing logs in bed. I literally got mad at him and his zzzzz’s. It wasn’t fair that he didn’t have to wash his stinkin’ face. Sayonara makeup! Now, that’s what I call anger management.

3). My designer clothes I so proudly collected working at Hot Mama have been banished to my “second closet,” a hanging rack in the basement storage area. Ok, that might be a slight exaggeration…I haven’t let go of my designer jeans. I can’t let go of my designer jeans. So, hooded sweatshirt (to hide my still 5-month pregnant-looking belly), William Rast jeans, and running shoes. That’s me. EVERY day.

4). I no longer get dressed up for nights at the theater. Instead, I’m dressed down for matinees of Nickelodeon Presents Live!

5). I didn’t want to go out for my birthday. I actually really wanted a new vacuum cleaner for my birthday.

6). I drive a mini-van. Now, I apologize if this comes across as incredibly ungrateful and vain, but I’m not thrilled (understatement) that I drive a mini-van. Everyone said it would grow on me. It hasn’t. For some odd reason, I’ve always loved looking “cute” in my cars. I’ve always appreciated feeling sporty as I cruise down the road. Now I pull up in a bus filled with babies…definitely not a head-turner and far from sporty. *sigh*

7). My US Weekly and People magazines are piling up and collecting dust. I looked at this week’s cover (Justin Bieber) and was like, “who the heck is that?” and “what’s wrong with his hair?”

8). More often then not, my dinner is cold by the time I get to eat it.

9). I’m always up to my elbows in laundry.

10). My nightly prayer almost always includes something along the lines of “please bring my babies peace and a restful night sleep!”

I suppose the list could go on and on, but I’ll stop. I need to go stop Linnea from banging whatever she’s banging against the wall in her room. Eliza is waking up from her nap and crying (thankfully Joey finally fell asleep). I’m finished pumping, so I’d like to eat my sandwich using both hands … and … oh, I need to let the dog out.

Breast Intentions – Read at your own discretion…

To breastfeed, or not to breastfeed: that is the question.

It bugs me that women feel pressured to breastfeed. It’s annoying and unfair that there’s a social stigma attached to women who choose not to breastfeed. You may argue whether such a stigma exists, but deep down, you know it does.

Breastfeeding didn’t work for me. I wanted to nurse my first child. In fact, I was all gung-ho about it, but no one told me it might not come easily. I worked with lactation consultants in the hospital. We pulled, stretched, squished, rubbed, and shoved my breasts to no avail. It was just too hard for me to watch my baby squirm, cry, and be frustrated with my ‘inefficient’ breasts. I decided to pump instead, and I ended up pumping successfully for 7 months. However, to an extent, I still felt like I’d failed. I could’ve tried harder. I should’ve tried harder. So, when I had the twins, I decided to give it another go. I worked with lactation consultants in the hospital. We pulled, stretched, squished, rubbed and shoved my breasts. We tried shields and softshells. The babies got frustrated and cried. I had more patience this time around, but I didn’t have new breasts. I eventually got frustrated too. The feeling of failure started creeping its way back until one lactation consultant finally said, “this just might not work for you…and that’s okay.” I ended up choosing to pump again. In no time, I was a milk-producing machine. I pump mass amounts of milk. Literally. My record is 24oz in 25 minutes (and this has happened more than once). My average is 18-20oz in 20 minutes. The proof is in the photo:

My babies are now 5 months old and I keep up with their eating habits just fine. I’m not saying pumping is the most convenient activity, especially with two babies and a toddler running around, but it works for me. Yes, I still feel slightly inadequate at times. I find myself explaining why I’m pumping and not breastfeeding. Why does it matter? It’s disappointing that I’ve second guessed myself so many times because of a stigma. No mother should ever feel such inadequacies. As parents, we make choices we hope we can handle. We do the best we can for our children. I sometimes wonder whether my babies will be scarred from lack of skin-to-skin bonding, but then I look at my beautifully well-rounded, self-confident, amazing toddler, and I know I made the right decision. I’m confident my decision to pump was right for the twins too. Either way, they’re still gettin’ the best of me!

Bringing Home Babies

It’s funny how much more laid back I was about the babies in the hospital than I was when Linnea was born. When we were still in the hospital with Linnea, she never left our room. Nursery…what nursery? I wasn’t about to put my precious new baby girl in the nursery! That is not to say I wasn’t tired from 36 hours of labor and then emergency c-section, and I wasn’t blatantly disregarding all the advice I was given about utilizing the nursery. I just couldn’t get over the guilty thought of her being strolled down the hall by some strange nurse. Oh, how my guilty thoughts diminished…Joseph and Eliza spent plenty of time in the nursery. In fact, one of the days the nurse had to call my room and remind me it was time to try feeding my babies again! Man, did I feel sheepish! I suppose that’s one perk of having twins second (and third). I’m able to be far more relaxed with the babies than I would’ve been if they were my first (and second).

Before I write about bringing the babies home, I should admit that I really didn’t have much to worry about. Yes, I was concerned about how Linnea would accept the babies, but Linnea is a remarkable little toddler. I truly believe she understands certain things far beyond her level of 2-year old reasoning. She was so amazing about welcoming the babies into the family, I could hardly believe it. I kept thinking it was her calm before her storm, but, thankfully, the storm never came. She declared herself “big sister,” and has assumed the role beautifully.

Anyway, as far as not having much to worry about goes…I’m referring to the amount of help we had right after the babies were born. My mother stayed with us overnight for the first week, and then we had a night nanny come 3-4 times a week (and my mom still came on the nights the nanny wasn’t there). My husband’s parents helped out too, as well as my dad and his wife. We had oodles of help. Friends and family brought unbelievably tasty meals on a nightly basis. We ate like kings. I wasn’t alone with the babies for the entire first month. I probably had more sleep than most singleton new moms. I was/am very fortunate and incredibly appreciative.

So, here’s my generic advice to any new parents out there (especially parents of multiples): accept all the help that is offered to you. Having a new baby or babies can be overwhelming. There is no reason to play superparents when you might not be feeling all that super. There is no reason to do it all by yourselves if you don’t have to. Also, invest in a night nanny. It doesn’t come cheap, but it’s WELL worth it. Let me know if you need a recommendation!

The heck you say…twins?!

Hi, I’m Heather, and I’m the mother of a toddler and newborn twins…and, yes, that was supposed to be read like a support group introduction. On October 23^rd, 2009, my life changed drastically. Joseph Henry and Eliza Ann were born, and made my comfortable family of three a busy family of five. Yes, the babies were conceived naturally. No, twins do not run in my family. Needless to say, it was a HUGE surprise. Allow me to start at the beginning…

When I was 12 weeks pregnant, I went to my doctor’s office for the 1st-trimester screen. I didn’t care all that much about the actual tests. To be honest, I just wanted the ultrasound. My doctor doesn’t order ultrasounds for healthy pregnant women, so with my first child, I only had one ultrasound at 20 weeks. I knew I couldn’t wait that long the second time around (and I WAS feeling unusually large), so I decided to take the screen. When the technician put the “wand” on my belly, here’s what I saw:

So, if that’s not totally obvious, I don’t know what is! Twins. Unbelievable.

Now, I’m going to be brutally honest here…this photo didn’t thrill me. In fact, it terrified me. My husband and I hadn’t planned on another pregnancy. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted another baby! Of course a million thoughts ran through my head, but mostly all I could think was, ‘man, were in for it.’ Oh, and I should also add that I’d thought I’d jinxed myself. My whole life (until I had my daughter and discovered what it was like to have ONE baby) I’d always said, “I want twins.” Well, really now, it never crossed my mind that I could have twins as my second and third children! Jeez.

The next few months passed without complication. My blood pressure was never higher than 112 over 62. I hadn’t gained too much weight. The babies consistently passed their biophysical and non-stress tests. At one point, my doctor even called me a “pregnancy champion.” I was extremely grateful I was able to be up and about, “running” around after my daughter, Linnea. This was all fantastic, but I was still very apprehensive about the impending doom…oops, I mean arrival of the twins.

I know most soon-to-be parents are delighted about their pregnancy and ecstatic about the baby’s arrival. I was the polar opposite. As I mentioned, I was terrified. I was SO worried about Linnea and what this would do to her perfect little world we’d created together. Also, we’d have to re-budget, remodel Linnea’s playroom into the babies’ room, load up on more baby gear, buy a freakin’ MINIVAN…etc, etc. Our world was going to change, and I wasn’t sure I was okay with it. I rested on my belief that God doesn’t give me more than I can handle (but he was definitely testing me to the highest degree).

Fast forward to October. Here I am in all my 38 weeks pregnant-with-twins glory the week I delivered:

Ok, I think it’s time to make a REALLY long story short. Introducing Joseph Henry and Eliza Ann:

Joseph Henry -  Born 12:02pm * 7lbs 2oz * 20 1/4in

Eliza Ann – Born 12:04pm * 5lbs 10oz * 19 3/4in

Well, that’s my story (in a nutshell). I’d love you to join me as I write about adjusting to life with a toddler and newborn twins. There will be ups and downs, and backs and forths, and probably some sideways too. I welcome all kinds of feedback: comments, criticisms, suggestions, and advice. I’m amazed each day by how much there is yet to learn about parenthood. A lot of the time, YOU will be my connection to the outside, “adult” world…at least until the weather warms up and we’re able to come out from winter hibernation.