Cold Burned Dinners

It doesn't take long to realize what life is going to be like when you have three babies well under the age of 26 months. I read somewhere that you rarely see a mom of twins who is fat. I can imagine why -- there's no time to be fat at the moment. Fat is a luxury. Between playing with a two year old, washing bottles, pumping, doing laundry, folding laundry, fortifying breast milk and preparing bottles in advance so you don't have a screaming baby or two on your hands... Oh, and then feeding said babies, burping said babies, bathing said babies, dressing 3 babies and changing 20 diapers... Wait, make that 28 diapers (can't forget that toddler diaper joy)... Per day... There is barely time to eat, let alone sit. This is a lot, even when there are two adults participating in daily chores all night and all day.

Claire grinning away during our "room in"

Colin being sleep pensive.

Colin's crooked sleepy smile

Last night in their "boxes" at the hospital

Claire usually grins while using her favorite finger. I'm trying not to take it personally.

Being tiny (Colin) - leaving hospital at 5 lbs 11 oz

Being equally tiny (Claire) - leaving hospital at 5 lbs 3 oz

Funny how a stroller like this can draw a lot of "AWWWWS"

I'm not going to lie, I am utterly exhausted. Has it only been 5 days since we came home from the hospital?

Oh, and in the rare times you are sitting, you should be cuddling with one baby or another... And one of those babies  (um, big brother) is a little more demanding about cuddle time than the other two at the moment. In fact, don't ask me how I had time to write this post... I must have cloned myself somehow. Or stumbled upon a wormhole.

Adam is having a vacation week to be home with mom and dad and to bond with baby brother and sister. He fell in love with them immediately, and when I'm holding Colin or Claire on the couch he sometimes comes up to me with his arms out, like I should hand over his baby so he can hold them. He loves their "little feet." Each morning he wakes up looking for the babies, wanting to help change diapers and hold bottles while they eat. He even offered Colin a bite of his chicken quesadilla and thought twice before stealing Claire's paci (he still did it, but he thought twice, which is impressive enough considering his pacifier love affair). 

Watching Dad change Claire's diaper.

This is not to say that it has been completely smooth sailing, just that whatever angst, anxiety or anger he may have is not directed at Claire and Colin. If Adam acts out its when he's tired (nearing nap or bedtime), and it's in the form of becoming an alter ego who I have dubbed Spaz Butt.

DVD case with the paper label removed, bent backwards, and placed over his face. We certainly are gifted. And hilarious.

 

Why it's fun to go through Mom's closet. When going through Dad's closet he comes out with a bat.

When Shannon or I are washing bottles or both more preoccupied than Adam can handle, he goes crazy touching things he shouldn't (intentionally - and I don't mean Dad's iPad - I mean the scissor drawer or other such dangerous items), grabbing, pushing, yelling and running through the house... Regardless, as each day passes Adam shows more signs of having to adjust. And partly I think this might be because he's bored in the house all day. On Day 5, we hit a new low in that being told "no" was a special form of attention that he appreciated (as if he's still not the ruler of the house), and hearing "no" resulted in smiling and doing it faster... or harder, or stronger or with more gusto. When I'm nursing a baby, Adam all of a sudden says he wants to cuddle (regardless of how little he needed me to look at him just 2 seconds prior), or he pulls his infamous "hug?" trick, which is especially useful when he wants picked up, held, or extra attention. When he wants to be held and we tell him "not now," or "just a minute," or "you're fine," and his complaints don't change your mind, he changes his tactic and grins his most charming grin, opens his arms wide, and says sweetly: "HUG?" When you fall for it, he latches on like a monkey and climbs you.

I usually fall for it.

(As a side note, Adam's charming techniques are becoming scarily more professional with each day. When my parents brought over dinner on Sunday, Adam tried to talk Mamie and Grandpa into taking him for a ride in their car. Mamie was holding him and he put his hands on her cheeks, made her look him directly in the eyes, and he put his face right up next to hers and repeated "ride, ride, ride, ride, ride?" She was able to fight his hypnosis attempt. When it didn't work, he looked at Grandpa and asked for a hug. His efforts were unsuccessful, but I have to say they were pretty impressive. So... Consider yourself warned. Just saying.)

As a special treat, I'm taking Adam to Lisa and Mike's on Friday morning to go swimming. I'm calling it Adam's Special Big Brother Day. He deserves it because I know this is a major change for him, but so far he's handling it like a champ.

As for the babies, they are doing well at home, but it is an extremely different experience from when Adam was tiny, and not just because there are two of them. For one, I am in some weird alternate understanding of their age. They will be 3 weeks old on Friday. We have only had them home for 5 days. Today they have just reached what would have been 37 weeks gestation, so... they are zero days old? The sleep deprivation doesn't help with my understanding of this so I try not to hurt myself with such complicated thoughts.

They tire easily so we have to be alert and ready for when they need to eat. We were sent home with instructions to continue feeding them every three hours, which requires waking an extremely sleepy Colin or jumping up and rushing to satisfy an impatient and hungry Claire. They still are not perfect at sucking, swallowing and breathing all at the sane time, so when they choke they kind of give up and you have to coax them into finishing a bottle. Pumping and bottle feeding is much more time consuming than nursing, not only for the obvious reason of the extra chore, but also the number of bottles to be washed 3 times daily. (8-9 feedings a day per baby equals 18 bottles.) Oh, and because I want to eventually be able to nurse them, they need practice, so throw that in there too. But they are getting hungrier by the minute. It's also hard to guess how much they want to eat. Sometimes they will suck down an ounce and 3/4 and want more... So the next time you make a two ounce bottle and they fall asleep halfway through it, uninterested. They came home drinking about an ounce and a half at each meal. They are both eating 2 and a half ounces today - and you haven't lived until you try to get sleep or any form of rest when you have two newborns who are cluster feeding.


Claire has this weird thing where when she's extra gassy (she burps well, but a lot of times doesn't burp all of the air up), the milk refluxes and comes back up her nose. It's terrifying, because I'm not quite sure she can breathe well and I end up with the nasal aspirator sucking out congestion and milk. Colin frequently does not burp, but is talented enough to be able to burp while lying down. Talk about an easy baby. If he cries, you know he has a reason.

Half the feedings are spent trying to figure out whether to give them more and cross your fingers they don't throw up on you from being too full, the other half is spent trying to make them finish the bottle so they aren't hungry again an hour and a half later. With Adam, we just fed him and he just ate... And ate, and ate. And I'm fairly certain that Colin is ready to eat every 4 hours and take more milk at each feeding. I'd hate to go against the doctor's instructions (we see their pediatrician tomorrow anyway), but my instinct tells me we're forcing Colin outside of his natural rhythms to stay on schedule with Claire, so I'm about to go with instinct instead. Or even just let him sleep 4 hours at a time at night.

We set up our bedroom like a mini daycare. Two bassinets (the babies nap together during the day but we put them in separate bassinets at night), a mini fridge for bottles and expressed milk for late pumpings, a crockpot full of water so we don't need to go to the kitchen to heat up a bottle, and of course a fresh supply of diapers, burp cloths, extra clothes, and receiving blankets. The mini fridge was an investment so that when we are out of the newborn/infant stages it can be moved to the man cave and hold beer, water, juice boxes and Popsicles).

"Helping" Dad with the new fridge.

Shannon is an expert swaddler, and I still suck at it. He also has better luck with burping than I do, which is not that big of a deal unless it's the middle of the night and my baby wants to sleep instead of burp while his baby is changed, fed, burped, swaddled, and back asleep again. Show off.

It's probably not the smartest but because they are so young and can't really be put on the same schedule (we try, but they have such different needs at the moment), we each are assigned a baby for the night. One bassinet is on his side and one on mine. Lately I get Colin and he gets Claire... Claire gets hungry faster (less sleep), but sucks down her bottle quickly and burps quickly (usually). Colin is a little slower to take his bottle but gives you a little more time between feedings. It's pretty even.

Napping.

Alright, one picture.

Okay, that's enough paparazzi.

Claire is quite the bed hog. She scoots closer to Colin, he inches further away. When I take Colin away for a few minutes, Claire complains about it.

Her hand is still on Colin to make sure he doesn't go anywhere.

This is one of the more entertaining conversations between Shannon and I today (that didn't involve when a baby last ate, last poo'd or how Adam was really pushing his luck today):


Me: You know what will make you feel better?
Shannon: Ha. What?
Me: A kiss.
Shannon: You think so?
Me: Okay, well maybe it would make me feel better...
(Shannon kisses me)
Me: Did it work?
Shannon: Eh. It didn't hurt. A scotch would work better though.

I was recently reminded of the obvious skill that babies have to know when you are finally able to sit down and eat... Because it never fails, that's when they cry. But I experienced a whole new reality on day 3 when all three babies were crying at once. Adam because he didn't want to go to bed, Claire because of gas pains and Colin because he was hungry from not finishing his last bottle completely. Shannon took on both screaming infants while I tried to convince Adam that going to bed wasn't going to kill him. I had finally decided before the tears started that I had to eat dinner at some point before breakfast time, so I threw some frozen fries and frozen fish sticks in the oven (which I know sounds fully gourmet in the first place). It burned, but I managed to save it before it was completely inedible. Then I went to save Shannon.

By the time all the tears had stopped and I sat down to eat, my dinner was not only burned, but cold.  It was gross, but I could put it in my mouth and swallow it at least. I have a feeling I'm in for some more cold, burned dinners on the couch at 10:30 pm... But the rewards in the long run will far out weigh that minor inconvenience. I am reminded of that when I have a snuggly  baby on my shoulder or when I get to play with Adam and cuddle with him. Eating a less than gourmet dinner won't kill me.

Now, if I could just get some more sleep.