June 11th-- the REAL due date

Wednesday, June 11th was my due date. Obviously the girls came a little earlier, 5 weeks in fact. It was a little odd to consider that 'fully-cooked', they would have joined us a couple days ago. I am happy to say that they look like full-term babies at this point, which was my hope back when they were scrawny little twigs, hanging out in the NICU. Roxy is picking up some rolls on her legs and V is well on her way to round and chubby (actually, I think she is already there. The girl is plump).

Here are some of the things I have learned over the last 5 weeks:

Nothing said by Mark or I between the hours of 11pm and 6 am can be held against the other. However rude or bothered or irritated you are, all must be forgiven in the morning because it was fog-induced anger, not reality. The night times are really the only part of twin-fants that I find difficult. And there has been some improvement over the weeks, but for the most part, Mark and I have just gotten used to being sleep-deprived. Even though the girlies have extended their time between feedings, they rarely are on the same schedule, so someone is up every two hours all through the night. I take the "first baby" and then I wake Mark when the "second baby" wakes up. And then that's the kiddo we're assigned for the night. When you spin the baby roulette like that, you sometimes win and sometimes you get the kid that wants to cry for 2 hours. Either way, if you're snappy or a bit brusque in your midnight conversations with your spouse, bad behavior is erased by sunrise. Or else Mark and I might be in marriage counseling because I think we have been more irritated with each other in the wee hours of these last 4 weeks than in our whole 14 years of marriage. Lack of sleep = irrationality. So we just let it go and love each other anyway.

Feeding two babies at once is a combination of juggling and mopping. During the day, when I'm flying solo, if both girls get the urge to eat at the same time, I have to prop them up on the couch, lay them on the boppy, and then kneel in front of the couch, holding the bottles in their mouths. Unfortunately, both girls are drippy, messy bottle drinkers and need to have a burp cloth permanently attached to their chins to catch the little streams of milk that are constantly escaping. I often end up holding a bottle with my chin while I attempt to re-position the burp cloth over and over again.

Diapers and wipies can be gone through at a rate that rivals the speed of sound. Between all three girls, we probably go through about 20-25 diapers a day. Ka-ching. $$$$

Suddenly, me and my daughters have become a novelty act as we make the rounds of Target, the grocery store, etc. To fill my shopping needs, I have enlisted Madelin and Megan to help me corral Janie, while I handle the twins on these outings. We can't seem to go 5 feet without being accosted by well-meaning strangers and hearing stories that always start one of two ways--- #1 "My sister (or aunt, brother-in-law, etc) has twins . . ." and then proceeds to tell me about them. Or #2 "Five daughters? My sister (or aunt, brother-in-law, etc) has three (or 4, 5, etc) daughters . . . " and then proceeds to tell me about them. None of these stories have been interesting yet, but I am polite and smile a lot because every one of them means well.

And I have learned how to perform baby-triage. It is not unusual to have 3 kids crying at (or for) me at the same time; and I have to pick who to attend to first. It still makes me feel bad to have to let a kiddo cry it out while I fix up another, but it cannot be helped. It will toughen them up, right??

I'm sure there is a lot more I've learned, but most of all, I have learned that whenever I sit down at the computer, or climb in the bathtub, or fix myself some food or start to blow dry my hair, it is GUARANTEED that someone will need me. And that axiom is holding true, even at this very moment.