Archive for June, 2015
There’s no getting around it, I’m a messy person. I try, bless my heart (can I bless my own heart?) but with four kids and two dogs, things rapidly spin out of control and I often lack the time and energy to set it to rights again. And when I do, the Sarah-Norah tornado isn’t far behind to wreck havoc all over again. We manage to keep the dishes clean and we have clean clothes – though I don’t think the girls have a single pair of socks that match. I admit that when I finally get both twins asleep, the last thing I want to do is pick up the mop or tackle a bathroom.
Sarah is also very messy, often dumping barely worn clothes all over the floor and leaving trails of dress up shoes strung across the house for unwitting victims to step on and skate across the floor. I’ll admit she probably gets that messiness from me, but she also does this weird micro cleaning thing. For example, the bathroom counter is covered in all her bows and the band aids she has dumped everywhere, but she will get a baby wipe and meticulously clean the sink knobs, drawer handles and edge of the bath tub until it’s to her liking.
When I tell her to clean, she insists she likes the mess, but then will have q-tips out detailing the rims of her Barbie carriage. Or when we go in the backyard, she will jack up her Cozy Coupe and “work under the hood,” dipping paper towels in water and giving it a scrub down.
I often catch her doing her weird cleaning and feel ashamed. For instance a couple of days ago she had wipes out and was cleaning the toothpaste out of my sink. I felt guilty and set about cleaning my whole bathroom as a result.
But then there are times I don’t see her cleaning and later find the disaster she inadvertently leaves behind. Twice now the girls’ bathroom sink stopped draining. After several attempts to clean it out from the top without success, Mark had to get out the wrench and take the sink apart. The first time he pulled out tons of dirty q-tips shoved down the drain. The second time, it was a bunch of wadded up toilet paper. The sink’s drain, it seems, is the appropriate place to dispose of your cleaning materials once you are done wiping down the sink spout or the cabinets.
I’m not sure what it is about these little details that draw her to clean, and I’m not complaining, I just need to figure out how to get her to transfer that micro cleaning to macro cleaning. Maybe I should start with myself first. Yesterday, when I did decide to take on the whole bathroom, Sarah immediately jumped in with her paper towels and set about wiping down the cabinets while I Windexed mirrors and took down soap scum. Now that I think about it, she is probably motivating me to clean more than the other way around.
I am constantly in awe of people who manage to keep a clean house constantly, especially if they have small children. And maybe one day we will get there, but in a year’s time I will have two toddlers and things aren’t looking great. Any tips for cleaning house with lots of little ones afoot? And is it even worth it?
Mark and I will readily admit, as first born children, that we did not fully understand the plight of the middle child.
Of course you always hear how middle children are treated differently: they are overlooked, ignored or given harsher punishments and as a result they act out and do crazy things to nab that so-longed-for attention.
I didn’t think we would struggle with any of those things with Norah. Prior to the arrival of our twins, Norah was our love bear. She loves to snuggle, sit in our laps and love on her silky blankies. Our oldest and first born, ever the independent stereotype, wanted nothing to do with any of those things and so we especially loved cuddling our Norah Bean.We thought her loving demeanor would transfer over perfectly into mothering the new babies.
I should have known things would be tough when she started getting very daring near the end of the pregnancy. She put her climbing skills to the test often, and we were constantly after her to “get down,” or “stop doing that,” or “spit it out.”
On one fateful night, she climbed up to the top of the bunk bed stairs, cartwheeled off the top and hit the floor, knocking herself unconscious. She stopped breathing for about 30 seconds and her eyes rolled back in her head and she started convulsing. Those were the worst 30 seconds of my entire life as I did everything I could to bring her back while panicking. Sarah, feeding off my energy and witness to the whole thing, also started panicking. After beating on her back several times, she took in a gasp and came back to us. We went to the ER where they did a CT scan and reassured us that her minor concussion was nothing to worry about.
I was traumatized. Sarah was traumatized. So much so that I couldn’t talk about it for a while. Together Sarah and I kept an eye on her climbing, Sarah tattling when Norah would start to get into something she wasn’t supposed to. Norah was pissed off that she had a security detail on her at all times, and began to make a game out of going where she wasn’t supposed to.
And then poor Norah was completely thrown off with the arrival of her twin siblings.
All those loving feelings I had dreamed of? Ha! Once we brought the twins home Norah started her campaign to hurt the twins whenever she got a chance. She would scratch their heads, hit their heads, pinch their feet, pull their skin… it was a nightmare! We sought out our pediatrician’s advice in desperation. She suggested time out, which we were already doing, and making a concerted effort to spend one-on-one time with her. We did. And when we did she was so happy, but with four small children it’s impossible to give her all the attention she wants. Still though, that is slowly getting better and just these past two weeks she’s been dolling out kisses instead of pinches to the babies.
There have been many other attention seeking behaviors. Everything from unrolling entire rolls of toilet paper and getting her legs stuck between the crib bars to covering herself from hair to toes in Vaseline. All of those, fortunately, have been relatively minor. So I should have known something big was brewing.
Friday night their grandparents offered to keep the big girls overnight so we could get some much needed rest. While there, in the blink of an eye, Norah fell off the bed, hit a nightstand and split her lip open. And I’m talking about all the way open until we could see the inside of it. I wasn’t there to witness it, but Sarah was and it sent her into a panic attack. The injury was horrible. Enough to make me light headed and nauseous. Back to the ER we went. We were so fortunate that the place was nearly empty when we arrived though, and they got us back in short order. They had to consciously sedate her this time, which, let me tell you, is super freaky to see your baby with eyes wide open, staring at nothing, laying still while they stitch her back up. I couldn’t watch, but Mark held her hand the whole time as the doctor lined her lip back up and gave her five stitches.
I was so upset that my little thumb sucker wouldn’t be able to self soothe or eat. Ha! She sure showed me. She was sucking her thumb by the time we put her to bed that same night and ate like a champ the next morning.
We took her for a follow up appointment this morning. Even her pediatrician cringed when she saw her lip, but all is healing up like it is supposed to and she is going to be just fine. Even in the pediatrician’s office she took a nose dive in the hallway and hit the floor. My poor clumsy kid takes after her mother and, it seems, is due for a lifetime of upsetting her parents and sister and injuring herself.
Despite all that though, Norah certainly has a certain sparkle that draws people to her. Maybe it’s her cheesy grin, or the way that she snuggles up to people she just met, but people meet her and love her instantly. Now, if only we can get her to play up that part of her personality to gain attention instead of all that other crazy behavior.
My poor, sweet middle child. I hope she realizes how much we really do love her despite bringing two more babies home.
Hey! We made it another month!
Our little babies are growing like crazy these days, and while Vera is still our little teeny tiny, Luke has taken off and is quite the little chunk!
Both babies are locking in on us now and love to stare at us when we talk to them. They also enjoy looking at lamps and fans and bright shirts. And, to my great excitement, Luke even gave us his first real smile a few days ago and has continued to every day since then! Vera is still holding out on the smiles, but we are going to be annoying with her until she shows us that gummy grin.
Both babies are also holding their heads up now, doing push ups off our chests until they are bobbing their little heads around to take it all in.
I’m pretty sure V is going to be blue eyed, but we aren’t sure on Luke yet (I’m still hoping for one brown eyed baby!).
One thing that I find funny with twins is how their dispositions tend to keep switching. Vera used to be our calm, laid back night time sleeper, and now we struggle to get her to go to sleep every night while her brother conks out. And while the struggle to go to sleep is now tough, I am so very happy that they have been going right back to sleep after their 1 am feeding: something we were really battling with.
On an personal note, I’ve found that listening to audiobooks during the middle of the night feeding really helps me mentally get through it night after night. It’s an escape, something I do for myself and it makes the time fly by!
At this point I’ve also gotten to be a pro at tandem nursing, which is good because both babies have synced up their feeding schedules and it saves us a lot of time, allowing for more sleep (though tandem feeding in public is impossible still).
Both babies have very distinct cries: Luke is loud and honks like a goose and Vera is a quieter little constant wail. Mark and I both know who’s crying when we hear them in another room.
At two months Luke loves tummy time and Vera absolutely hates it. We try to rotate them around to different forms of entertainment throughout the day, but V hates almost all of it except for the swing, which keeps dying after about 5 minutes, causing her to start fussing again.
Both babies love the car and the stroller. One day recently, when both babies wouldn’t stop crying for a couple hours, I had enough and loaded them up in the van and they, Sarah and I went to Target to get groceries and stroll around. And it worked… until we got back home again.
Two months, to me, is always on the cusp of when things start to get really fun. I can’t wait for them to start smiling more and giggling and cooing… and sleeping through the night. But even that is starting to improve, too.
We go for a check up tomorrow (complete with shots and weight checks). I always hate the dreaded first shots. Praying it goes smoothly.
Happy two months Vera and Luke!
I remember being pregnant with Sarah, my first baby, and anxiously anticipating maternity leave: an imagined heavenly time off where I would snuggle with my baby and have plenty of time to do things like paint my house, clean, cook and lounge around. You can imagine my shock after I delivered her when, after hours upon end of nursing, changing diapers, burping and soothing, all I wanted to do was spend any spare moment I had in bed and asleep. And then there was the terrible post partum anxiety that made it nearly impossible to leave my own house or get much of that sleep I so desperately wanted. Before I knew it the 12 weeks had slipped by and I was sobbing as I dropped my first born off at daycare and headed back into work.
With my second baby, I knew better. I was prepared to rest and heal, nurse constantly and attempt to parent two small children. I thought that I knew what to expect after Sarah. Wrong again. Hello that evil word that we longer speak in our house lest, like Voldemort, it decides to resurface from the dead and drive us to a mental institution. (hint: it begins with a “c” and ends with “olic”). Night after night our second baby screamed from 9pm to 3am, keeping Mark and I awake with her constant fussing. We would finally get her to sleep, only to lay her down and have her wake up screaming again… over and over and over. Fortunately we were able to continue to send Sarah to daycare so I could get a couple hours of sleep during the day. Despite that I still hobbled along on a total of 3-4 hours of sleep per night/day while I continued to work while I was on “leave” from the house. The colic finally finally went away one week prior to me going back to work full time and by that time I was so sleep deprived I’m kind of amazed I was able to accomplish anything.
This time, I was again steeling myself. I know better than to expect anything, especially with twins, but I did pray every day that lightning wouldn’t strike twice and we could at least avoid that evil c-word. Twins are hard, of course they are. One infant is tough, two infants… well let’s just say I’m constantly juggling their needs, the needs of my two other children, and time with my husband, all while trying to keep my head on straight. My days pass by so quickly in a haze of nursing two babies, patting, burping, easing the cries and trying to entertain my 4-year-old who is out of school for the summer.
And while we had a scare with night time screams, it turned out to be something we could manage with gripe water and I heaved a huge sigh of relief. However, getting up with two babies at night means I’m up twice as long during a nursing session, and when both babies won’t go back to sleep it’s enough to make me run and hide my head under the pillow, or shake my husband awake so we can spend hours together patting fussy babies while we watch re-runs of yard crashers while saying, “Want to switch babies?” It’s no wonder the days and weeks are absolutely flying by.
People often ask me how we’re doing these days, and without hesitation, I say, “Exhausted, but it’s getting better.” The big girls are struggling to get our attention in all different ways, both good and bad. Norah has taken to attacking the babies if we aren’t paying attention to her, and when she gets in trouble she immediately tries to kiss them or us to make up for bad behavior. Sarah, while usually fantastic with them, is constantly in their faces, waking them up and decorating them with costumes.
Mark and I have become expert jugglers. We often laugh about the two of us bathing Sarah together back when she was an only child. Now we ask, “which two do you want to bathe tonight?” We are experts at loading all four of them into the van and getting back out again. And the twins, even though they are little, just have to go along for the ride wherever we go. They have already been to two of Sarah’s school performances and a bunch of birthday parties. They don’t seem to mind too much though.
Our lives are all about efficiency and balance and love. Each night we do take time, individually, with Sarah and with Norah to read books and snuggle and let them know how very special they are to us and how much we love them.
I’m not going to lie, our rough days are really rough. My sister came over to help one night and I think we scared her away from ever wanting children of her own. But our good moments are really good too. Just today when both babies were screaming, Sarah asked to hold Vera and rocked her to sleep while I managed Luke. And, I have to say, it was one of the sweetest moments of my life.
So yes, we’re surviving, we’re exhausted, but we’re doing ok at this family of six thing.
- Things That Go Bump in the Night
- Two Two-Year-Olds
- Today, You’re Six
- The Aftermath
- My Sick Bonnie Girl
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