A Note to New Parents

Dear Moms and Dads,

Consider these few pearls of wisdom as you begin your journey through parenthood. I've been a Mom for 3 years now. I know nothing, but I've learned and am learning a lot.

Rock your baby to sleep every night. Every night. You'll soon miss it.
The boys got too cool for Mom to rock when they were around 1, and I tell you, it was depressing. I take advantage of rocking my little Monster every night. She hums with me until she falls asleep. It is the most precious thing.

Remember to take lots of pictures and videos and post them to social media on the daily.
Yeah, so people will get annoyed with you and probably block you on Facebook, but who cares? You'll have a timeline of your family's daily life at your disposal whenever you get a hankering to see what you were up this very day 2 years ago. It's awesome. I could spend hours on my own Facebook page just looking at pictures of The Dudes. Oh, and while we're on the topic, please make a point to get in the pictures yourself. You know I hate selfies as much as the next person, but it's incredibly lame to realize too late that you don't have a single picture of yourself with your babies. I had to give myself a talking to fairly recently regarding this very topic--Suck it up, get over yourself and your whole "I'm a beached whale with a red face" self-image problem, a taking an effing picture with your kid. You'll thank me later. They'll thank you later.

You don't have to buy as much crap as you think.
Please. Please, I am begging you. For the love of God, do NOT buy a damn crib bedding set. I'm fired

up about this because I just came across $300 worth of crib bedding that I never even used. Why did I buy that? I wanted everything to be cute and perfect, and failed to realize that you cannot put half of that stuff in/on the crib without causing danger to your child. Let me tell you what you'll need: a waterproof mattress cover and a couple of sheets. Bam. Done. $30. End rant.

Oh, do buy lots of toys. It's fun to spoil your child. No one agrees with me on this topic, but I say you can never have too many hotwheels or books.

If you're a working Mom/Dad, leave the house early.
As in, when the babies are still sleeping. I do this, and it is perfect. If I had to see those little goomers before leaving, I would never get out of the house. This morning, Little Monster was awake. I had to give her to Doug, and she cried. It broke my heart. Sneak out. It's the only way.

Don't buy clothes that you want to keep pristine.
They're going to destroy everything. It's what they do. It kills me when we're out somewhere and I hear a parent tell her kid, "Don't do that, you'll destroy your shirt." Lady, why did you bring them here, dressed in that, if you wanted them to not get dirty? P.S. THEY'RE JUST CLOTHES. Give me a break. Go to freaking Carter's and buy some good ole cotton clothes that can handle some dirt and some wear and deal. End rant 2.

Lay off other parents.
So, I literally just hypothetically judged and yelled at another parent, and now I'm telling you to lay

off other parents. What? Did I ever say I was perfect? Back to my point. We all have different ways of parenting. One bloke might think iPads do nothing but rot children's brains, while another thinks the opposite. One lad might think giving a kid chocolate will turn them into a diabetic, and the other may think buying organic is just marketing. You say tomato, I say tomato. That doesn't really translate here, does it? The point being, worry about raising your kid before you try to raise someone else's. Capiche?

Patience you must have, my young padawan.
I cannot stress this enough. Just practice this mantra, "I love being a Mom. I love being a Mom." Being a parent is the hardest job ever. Your patience will be tested on the daily. But you'll likely survive to tell the tale.

Which leads me to my last tip.

Try to capture the memories.
I know we've already discussed the pictures. Do that. But also try to find time to write down some things. As you know, I cannot craft, so there are no baby books. But! What I do have is this little blog to keep my words forever because the internet never forgets. I get great joy from reliving memories, and maybe my babies will find it amusing some day, too.

Potty Training

Well, we started potty training today. It lasted about 4 hours. After that, I succumbed to the chaos and gave up. I feel like I have to be with them at all times, and that's just impossible when you're caring for 3 kids. So, we'll take our 4 hours of training and our 1 pee-pee in the potty, and call it a win for day 1. 

Tomorrow, we'll start it all over. Hopefully, they'll be potty trained by the time they head off to college. Or maybe by the time we head to the beach in the fall! 

P.S. I'm open to all potty training pointers.

There is a Monster in our House

Being a parent is hard.

One constant is you're always tired.

The amount of "me time" you are allotted is abysmal. Before Monster, I had a good system down. Boys go to bed at 8, and since I get up at 6:30 for work,  I'd aim to get to sleep by 11. I had 3 whole hours to do whatever my little heart desired. I could go on late night rambles with my good buddy for ice cream. I could take long baths. I could spend hours on Amazon.com searching for some things I didn't need. The possibilities were endless.

Enter Monster.

The beastly Monster wrapped in her puppy dog towel!

The boys still go to bed at 8, but now I have a new little creature to absorb my "me time." And last night, she was in rare form. Usually, I feed her around 8 or 9, rock/snuggle her for an hour or so, and then put her to bed. She sleeps until around 6, I feed her, put her back in her crib, then get ready for work.

Last night, however, she decided that she was going to party all night. She ate and laid down around 9. I went about my business, showering, getting clothes ready for work, etc. Just about the time I got cozy in bed with Order of the Phoenix, I heard a little monster grunting.

"Maybe if I sit here quietly and pretend I didn't hear her, she'll go back to sleep." Grunts continued, then advanced to fury. I grabbed the little thing from her crib before tears shed.

I fed her again, rocked and snuggled, and put her to bed. But that was not good enough! She started to get angry (and trust me, you won't like it when she's angry).

Because he wasn't going to bed immediately, my beautiful husband took baby duty. That lasted about an hour until I was awoken by the wild hollers of a banshee. (As a testament to the volume of her cries, a certain tenant complained about the noise today. Lucky Dacian! His bedroom is right above the nursery.)

Eeevil. Evil is her one and only name.

Anyway, when I got Monster at 1 this morning,  she had turned into the Squirminator. No position was comfortable. My arms could not satisfy her, and what's more,  her crib was made of acid. I defaulted to my old tried and true strategy of humming Christmas songs and smothering with Mommy hugs.

Finally! After great effort, she was asleep.

What seemed like 15 minutes later, I was up and at it again. Diaper change, bottle, rocking. I fell asleep dreaming about Quidditch. I awoke briefly, feeling Monster's bottle fall from my hand. I repositioned the Squirminator best I could and commenced rocking. "Five points from Gryffindor for falling asleep while feeding the baby," said Prof McGonagall as I drifted off to lala land once more.

A few grunts later, I was awake, singing again to Monster, who finally seemed to be giving up the good fight. I held her tiny hand and kissed her button nose. She didn't look so vicious afterall! What a precious little Monster!

By now, it was time to get ready for work. The bed, as wonderful as it looked, would have to wait until much later tonight.

And it actually didn't even matter.

Sleep and "me time" are pretty spectacular. But. One day, the Squirm is going to be a big girl. She won't need her Mommy to sing Christmas carols and snuggle her tight. True, this is a hard concept to grasp at 4 in the morning, but I have to remember! Time flies. I've got to savor all the moments. Someday, in the not-so-distant future, I'll be wishing I had these moments back. 

Love my little Monster!

Eyes All Over the Place

Having cameras throughout our house is such a convenience. I love being able to check on the boys at any given time. I'm in the kitchen making food and can't leave the goetta, I just grab my phone and keep an eye on things while I'm at the stove. I start missing them at work, I pull out my phone and see how they're doing. Hear a noise upstairs during sleeping hours, I check the phone and see which cat is lurking in the boys' room that should've been kicked out at bedtime. 

And perhaps the greatest advantage of all: The boys basically think we are omnipotent. Doug is continuously busting suckers left and right! If you could only see their little faces when they realize they've been caught! "But how, Dad?! How did you know I was pulling Yoshi's tail?!"

Here are a few hidden camera moments for your viewing pleasure. 

The dudes snuggling in the floor while their cars and alligator rest easy on the beds.

Hey, dude, where's yo pants?!

Monster getting her snooze on.

Joe Cool.

Joe Sith.

At least somebody uses those beds.

This looks safe.

Joe Ghost featuring Catzilla as Baby Kate.

Goetta every morning.

Early morning snuggles with Grammy.

Three Babies

As you may have noticed, I have been increasingly absent from blogging for the past six months or so. Why is that? Well, friends, the answer is simple: I have three babies.

People often ask, "How is it with the twins (2.5 years old) and the baby (4 months old)?"

I'll be frank.

It's hell, ladies and gents. Exhausting, frustrating, stressful, and extremely difficult.

Comedian Jim Gaffigan summed it up nicely when asked a similar question about life with lots of babies, "Imagine you're drowning. Then, someone hands you a baby."

He could not be more accurate.

But at the same time, life with three babies is overwhelmingly wonderful. There are no words to describe the way my heart feels when I get home from work and see those little faces light up with joy at seeing their Mama. Oh, and how sweet the sound of little voices saying the simplest of greetings, "Hi, Mom." And nothing in this big old world feels better than those tiny arms draped around my neck, and a little head on my shoulder.

Yep, it's hard, and some days I just want to hide in bed, but every night I give hugs and kisses and snuggles and lots of love. And I get it all back times three.

Six Months

Life before babies--snuggling kitties.

The boys are 6 months old today! Can you believe it? It's funny how life changes in the blink of an eye. They've only been here for 6 months, but I can't remember life without them. Actually, I can. I remember sleep fondly.

Six months ago, I was laid up in the hospital after just having 2 human beings removed from my body (I still can't believe I had twins...or that women totally got the shaft and have to grow humans inside themselves)...

My stint in the big house started a week before the boys were born. The doc called me on Thursday, July 12th. My lab work suggested pre-eclampsia, and since I was 36 weeks pregnant, it was time to be admitted to the hospital. She said I could go on in, or wait til morning. I chose to wait and have one more peaceful night in my own bed. Meaning, it was my good fortune to check into the hospital on Friday the 13th. The next week was totally lame and boring. But I guess, it was better to be safe than sorry. Nothing happened, save for Joey Votto blowing out his knee. Yeah, I watched A LOT of Reds baseball while I was in the hospital.

Baby A!

The boys were not set to arrive until the following Thursday. I was all right up until that morning, or D-Day, as I called it. Once the wheelchair arrived to escort me to the operation room, I got scared. That lasted for about 15 minutes. Didn't matter if I was scared or not, those little dudes had to be delivered. So, I had to straighten up and pretend to be brave. After having my arm brutally murdered by the nurse and her giant IV and horrible IV-inserting techniques (there were pools of blood on the floor to prove she was awful), it was showtime!

Sensitive J-Bird.

Boomer went into the operation room with me. She tried to talk to me, hold my hand, and all that good stuff to make me not think about the fact that my body was cut open and I was conscious (I still can't think about that...so strange). Anyway, I wasn't really listening or talking to her. I was too anxious. I wanted everything to be done and over with and I wanted to see my babies! It wasn't too longer after the doctor had started that she said, "Look up, Allison. A healthy baby boy. Baby A! What's his name?" And there he was, my little Julian. About twenty seconds later, she was holding Jonas up for me to see. Good looking little fellers. Holy guacamole! That. Just. Happened.

Douglas and Jason were out in the waiting room, uh, waiting. Boomer went out to tell them the boys had arrived, and as I had been moved to the recovery room, they could come take a gander. Jason cried, cause he's sensitive like that. I think Douglas was still in shock.

The boys had their first visitors that evening: Grandma Carol, Jovita, Joann, Day-Day, Tracy, and Jenna.  Day 2, they met Aunt Carolyn and Uncle Steve!

2nd day home.

We hung out in the hospital for the next few days. I thought I was dying, and was convinced that I was going to rip in half if I moved. (Ugh, please, Lord, take away the memory of what pregnancy and delivery felt like so that I may someday have another child.) Doug tried to sleep on a chair, and found out around Day 2 (in that room), that the chair actually folded out to a "bed." We fed our little dudes (the very first bottle we gave them was 15 mL...a big ole half ounce). Doug Bear changed their diapers (after the nurse showed us how) and took care of their nether regions. And we held them constantly. I can't believe how little they were!

We got 0 hours of sleep. I was completely uncomfortable, and so was Doug. Oh, and the boys had to be fed every 3 hours. One night, the nurse suggested we send the babies to the nursery so we could sleep. We did, and Doug finally got a few hours of shut-eye. I couldn't sleep because I was missing my little dudes. 6AM rolled around, and the nurse came back to the room, pushing the bassinets. I cried when she came in. I was so happy to have them back! (Doug was probably crying because he had to wake up!)

Our happy boys!

All of a sudden, it was time to go home. What do we do with them when we get home? Aaaah! I was still very much crippled, so Doug was really in for it. He had 2 babies and a wife to care for. That first week was pure hell. We didn't know what we were doing. The babies couldn't sleep without being close to their Mama, so I would sleep holding the babies, and Doug would watch us sleep (don't try this at home, people). I was not being successful with nursing. The babies were pissed because they were hungry, and I sucked at feeding them. I cried a lot. But somehow...somehow, we survived, and now it is 6 months later. We didn't break the boys. We realized formula feeding was better than a depressed, exhausted mother. We successfully bathed them (I was very concerned about this, and watched many "how to" videos when I was in the hospital). I changed a diaper (after 2 weeks of letting Doug handle it solo).
We were parents!

Baby B

And now, all is well. Our boys are happy and healthy, and we are learning new tricks every single day.
6 months...feels like a lifetime. Here's to many more months with my main men! (Pray that Doug and I survive!)