Hihi!

Push publish, push publish, push publish. That’s my blogging mantra.

Disclaimer: I know these are going to be the world’s most annoying updates for all of my IF friends still in the @#*&$#@(* trenches. I love you all and apologize in advance.

The update from my corner of the universe is that all is well, and all is nutso. All at once..

• Hubs has been criss-crossing the country for the past two weeks interviewing for jobs, and he will continue to do so until the end of February. Last week, his first on the road, I struggled big-time with the whole single parent slash full-time working Mom to two 10-month-olds thing. (No sympathy please! Big props to all the folks out there who do it every.single.day!!) I just felt perpetually frazzled and like my heart was always beating faster. One morning, Champ tipped over a lamp in the living room. I was one step too slow to prevent the tippage. One worst-Mom-ever step. He was FINE, it didn’t fall in his direction or anything, but I was not. I was thiiiiiiiis close to crying. That night, in a frantic blur of a bus ride home to relieve the nanny, I was pick-pocketed. It was a mess (it continues to be a mess). I made a promise to myself that night that I would SLOW DOWN, remember to breathe, take an extra moment to gather myself, etc.

* And then the next morning as I settled into my bus seat en route to work and couldn’t find my iPhone, I was certain I’d dropped it on the sidewalk as I’d sprinted a block to catch the bus—so much for slowing down—thankfully it was at home sitting in the charging station, but I admit I did well up with tears on that bus ride. GET IT TOGETHER, GET IT TOGETHER, YOU’VE GOT TWO BABIES DEPENDING ON YOU, YOU CAN’T LOSE YOUR SH*T NOW!!! That’s all I could think last week.

• On the upside, the babies do not seem to be effected by my general aura of Very Frazzled Woman.

• This week went A LOT better—no wallet stolen, no broken lamp, no cell phone dramatics (please no jinxies, haha)—mostly because my Mom came to visit and with her help I didn’t feel like I was baking in a pressure cooker.

• Much to my dismay, because I truly love my job, I am feeling verrrrry blah about work lately. This really set in after the holidays. I had the entire week between Christmas and New Year’s with the babies and it was utter bliss. I realized in that week HOW MUCH they change every single day and how wonderful it is to be PRESENT for those changes….it was hard-hard-hard to go back to the office and leave them under someone else’s care. (I adore our nanny, it’s not about that.) I have recently experienced actual physical jealousy toward stay at home moms—even though I know what an incredibly exhausting and difficult job it is.

• My current work malaise is probably one of those cliche cases of the grass-is-always-greener. Also, it’s freezing outside and dark/gray and it’s just kind of a bummie of a time of year. [Side note: Please let hubs snag a job, please please please. It's a tough job market and a competitive field. We are so hoping something comes together.]

• As for the babies, they are as awesome and amazing as you could possibly imagine. They light up my life in endlessly wonderful ways. The amount I have belly-laughed since they entered the world is astounding. I love their sweet baby smells, their smiles, their laughs, their splashing in the tub. I love the way they clutch at my shirt and whimper and bury their faces in my neck as I lower them into their cribs for bed at night. I love watching them on the baby monitor as they stand up at the place where their cribs almost meet and babble to each other and hand toys back and forth. I love how they scrunch up their faces and snort and smile and bounce with excitement (haha, it’s true) on their tip toes as I come into their room every morning at dawn. I love how they crawl all over me, and how they bring me books to read, and how they love to play Rolly Poly on the floor with me as the sun rises. I love eveything about them with every ounce of my being. I am so so so lucky to be living this life.

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This too shall pass

Oh, hi. :)

It’s been for-evah. Ay yi yi yi yi yiiii! Lots and lots of love to my all of my bloggie friends, I’ve been reading on the bus to and from work, but have been 200% sucking at commenting with my current schedule.

I come seeking positive vibes. My hubs is proposing his dissertation today and I want him to be pleased with its reception so very badly.

In case you are keeping track, this is the dissertation he put off proposing last fall, right after we found out we were pregnant (thank you lord!) with our sweet little babies. At the time, he didn’t feel awesome about the state of the paper, and he felt—and was advised—that another year to come at it from a different angle, with added data, would help his job market prospects. (In retrospect, we have learned  he would never “feel awesome” about the state of this paper. Le sigh.)

It’s quite the understatement when I say that it was tough news last fall, because it meant yet another year of living on just my income—except with two babies to feed and clothe, too. It also meant there was no option of me not going back to work after the babies arrived.

I think we’ve done our very best, given the circumstances. I freelanced like mad before the babies arrived. He worked hard on his research, and took on a new research project in the meantime to account for the extra year he’d be spending working toward his PhD.

But lately, it has gotten so hard. Let me preface this by saying that I 7000000% know these are GOOD WONDERFUL AMAZING problems to have, and I am incredibly lucky to have them. But here’s the vent session. Hubs has been working on his paper constantly since I went back to work in July. The tough thing about this period in his life—and I have such super-duper respect for all of you academic bloggies out there, who have these pressures—is that he never gets to “turn off” his work. It is always there, always hanging over him. There is always something else to do on this dissie. A new set of data to consider or crunch. Calling it all-consuming would not be an exaggeration. He works all weekend, every weekend. He stays up until 4am, every night. He is OVER it. Sick and tired of this paper. Stressed. Burnt out. Tired. Blah. Nervous. On edge. Irritable. Ready for the next thing. (Hopefully, working.) But it’s not over yet.

The problem is that this means 99.9% of the childcare falls to me, when I’m not at work. I wake up with the babies at dawn every morning (since hubs has just turned in for his night of a few hours of sleep!), feed them, play with them, prep them for their morning naps, prep the day’s bottles, do dishes, laundry, then rush to get myself ready for work and out the door. (Weekday mornings became soooo hectic that I finally threw in the towel on pumping once the babies turned 6-months old, sniff, and now that they are three days away from being 7-months-old, I have officially weaned them and my formerly-ridiculously-ginormous-and-now-normal-size boobs.) I spend every moment of every weekend with them….do all of the bottles and solid food feedings and diaper changes and outdoor adventures and naps and bathtimes and bedtimes. The babies are my charge, and it can be overwhelming and exhausting. Obviously I love every moment with them, and they are beyond fun and cuddly and miraculous in every way, but it’s also hard.

Side note: I am stuck on percentages lately. I use them 50% too much. Haha.

Plus, I just miss spending time with hubs and wish he could be with the babies more because they are freaking awesome. :) I know he wishes he could, too. And I wish I could be a bigger support to him. His research is TOTALLY over my head and so all I can do is check in (but not, you know, TOO often), listen (though he rarely wants to talk about this) and tell him the truth: I believe in him and we will get through whatever happens.

I feel a little helpless and frazzled and feel no right to whine about it and have no place to take my angst…. newborn twins + full-time job + a PhD candidate husband in his final year = no one understands.

Okay, rant over.  I know it’s a temporary thing. Another six-ish weeks of insanity as he takes today’s feedback into account and preps his applications. Then—hopefully—things will settle down a bit. Or, at least, settle into a different type of stress (him traveling for interviews—please lord—and both of us praying a job offer comes through). And hopefullyhopefullyhopefully he will be gainfully employed in several more months.

So any good vibes would be awesome.

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Ugh. Yip! Ugh. Yip!

I’ve been back at work for 2.5 weeks and have started to write about what it’s been like at least 3 times now and have ultimately decided this: My opinion changes hour to hour. Seriously. Ugh. Yip! Ugh. Yip! That’s kind of how it goes. In the same 24 hour period I have felt giddily grateful to have a job that I love, coworkers I enjoy interacting with, the ability to leave the house and do something that stretches me mentally, and a loving husband and awesome nanny who make it all possible. Later the same day, I’m bitter and tearful about how late I’m stuck at the office, I am heart-achingly missing the babies and literally contemplating how we could make a go of it with two babies and zero salaries (my hubs is in grad school, muhahahahaha).PS That last one isn’t going to happen. PSS I feel really lucky to have a job in this economy. And even better, a job that I  really love. (It would be totally soul-crushing to leave your baby/babies every morning to go to a job you don’t love.) I apologize for sounding like a jerk if it seems I’m whining about work or the fact that I miss my babies, because I know how incredibly, insanely lucky I am to have these things to talk about.

So yeah. Work. For the first couple days back I was like, “Awesome! This isn’s so bad, I can do this!”  But then….it turns out it’s pretty darn hard to be away from them all day. And then it’s morning again and time to get into the office and I miss my bus and then the train and the next bus and the next train because I literally can.not.say.goodbye.to.these.babies. And then I’m rushing rushing rushing home at night, trying to catch a half hour with them before they go to bed. It’s a lot of rushing around—and trying to find peace and quiet with the babies and hubs in between. I think it will get easier and I’ll get used to the fact that every night when I come home they honest-to-god look bigger and different than when I left then in the morning…..right?

Anyway! Some bullets….

  • They are up to 50th- (Champ) and 25th-percentile (Honey) for weights as of their 4-month appointment (non-adjusted!). I’ve stopped obsessively weighing them so much because they are such chubsters. But we still track their milk intake pretty rigidly.
  • Champ’s flat head on the right side was enough to cause concern, but nothing nearing “he needs to be in a helmet.” We were given some strict orders on how to turn his head to prevent it from getting any worse. I’ve read this happens more often in multiples (harder to turn their heads and prevent flat spots when you’re trying to focus on two babies at once)…but now it’s priority number one. Hubs tweaks his head position a half-dozen times a night!
  • Pumping is going….pretty well. The cons are that it takes away from how wonderfully unrestricted feeding time could be at dawn since I’m hooked up to a pump. And that Honey has totally lost interest in nursing (I 100% blame myself because I just couldn’t give her enough time on the boob to get thru a disinterested spell once I went back to work). And that it’s kind of a pain in the you-know-what to carry around my little cooler bag to and from the tiny, cold, dark supply closet they have me set up in. But whatever! The pros are that it feels awesome to DO SOMETHING for the babies (you know, besides bringing home the bacon) while I’m at work. And that Champ is still into nursing. And it burns a zillion and one calories. I am trying to make it to 6 months but we’ll see…..
  • I feel guilty that I can still nurse Champ 1x/day (more on the weekends) and not Honey. Sad face.
  • There are a few preggos in the office right now. It’s wonderful to not feel jealous. But I do look at them and think about how much I miss being pregnant. (Minus the anxiety!)
  • I feel like my work has been SO COLORED by IF or pregnancy and it’s SOOOOO weird to just BE at the office without that pain or anxiety. I can’t believe I’m going to leave it at that but it’s too complicated to say much more at this point.
  • Speaking of, this has been a really emotional few weeks for me and I’m not sure if it’s the work thing or the many anniversaries I’m finding everywhere I turn…..beginning of the cycle that worked, IUI day of the cycle that worked, IVF consult anniversary, wedding anniversary, weekend the babies probably implanted, etc etc etc. I think these anniversaries will be with me forever.
  • Our nanny is wonderful. Loving, nurturing, kind. There are teenie tiny things I could point out but I’m not going to because the truth is I could not ask for a bigger blessing: the peace of mind that our babies are safe and loved while I’m at work.
  • Honey rolled over from tummy to back on my first day back at work. (It seemed like a cruel/funny joke from the Universe.) Champ followed her 2 days later. Then a week after that he went from back to tummy. (Here’s hoping Honey might just be saving her first back-to-tummy roll for a weekend with Mama!) Honey loooooves to walk around as we hold her hands—it is out-of-control cute, she laughs and her eyes twinkle and she gives us the most ginormous gummy smiles. Champ folds into a little puddle when we try to put weight on his feet (hahahaha). They are talking up a storm, grabbing toys, grunting, giggling, clasping each other’s hands, and generally doing all of these incredible little-person–like things that absolutely amaze me.
  • Just when I think the babies are as cute as they could ever be, they are even cuter when they wake up the next day. Oh, my lord. It is just too much, it takes my breath away how sweet and innocent and happy and curious they are. They are good good little eggies.
  • I don’t get to put the babies to bed Wednesday, Thursday or Friday nights because of my work schedule. I think that has been the hardest part about being back at work. I won’t say more or I might never hit publish. :)

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Four-month ramblings

My brain is fried so this is all I got…bullets!

  • The babies go for their 4-month check-ups tomorrow. What I’m thinking a lot about: Champ’s super-flat head on the right side. We shall see what the ped thinks.
  • I had a long list of “projects” to accomplish during maternity leave. HAHAHAHA. (What was I thinking?) I seriously have crossed one off the list.
  • Hubs has been absolutely and totally and completely buried in his dissertation. He hasn’t slept the past two nights because he had a big presentation to give today. He is so tired of it. He is so stressed. This week he has had absolutely no time to help with the babies…no feedings, no bath time, no snuggles, no dipe changes…ay yi yi. I know it’s not good to wish time away, and certainly I don’t with our sweet sweet babies, but I am SO READY for my poor hubs to have completed this @#^*$#@&(@ thing. (Then it’ll be time to stress/worry about the next step: his job applications this Fall!)
  • I have been “training” the nanny for a few hours here and there for the past month. She is wonderful. Calm. Zen. Sweet. Nurturing. Loving. I am so grateful for this.
  • The thing is, though, I do things a certain way. (Ahem, I like to leave the bath water running to circulate the water because Champ always pees when he gets in the baby tub. She just fills it up and turns off the water.) I have been home while she’s been learning the drill and it takes a lot of effort to find the right balance between, This thing is really important to me, versus, You know what? It’s okay if she wants to do it that way. Has anyone else dealt with this?
  • Hubs’s brother and his wife are moving to our city this summer. [Insert cheering!!!!] I love them both so much and am SO SO SO happy we will have family IN THE SAME CITY AS US! They are apartment hunting this weekend and are staying with us from Friday–Monday. So tomorrow is my last day solo with the babies before going back to work.
  • I feel like a ticking time bomb with the going-back-to-work thing. I suspect it will be terribly difficult. I don’t even know, I’m a mess of emotions. But hopefully I’ll at least enjoy having the countdown aspect GONZO.
  • I’m going to pump as long as possible, but am trying to be realistic that I may not last too much longer once I’m working….eeeeesh.
  • Hubs downloaded some pics from our digital camera a few weeks ago and I happened to glance through them today. There is one picture of me in the waiting room at the hospital the night I went into labor. The clock reads 12:47am. I haven’t gone back to triage yet. I am HUUUUUGE. (My gosh, I did NOT remember how big I was!) Puffy. Multiple chins. I have a giant pregnancy-induced blood vessel thing erupting next to my nose. (It had to be cut off two weeks later in a quicky surgery. A whole other blog post. Yuck!) I look so uncomfortable and annoyed at hubs. I was probably in the midst of a serious contraction and little did I know that I was already 10cm dilated and literally a couple of hours away from meeting Champ and Honey. You know what? It’s such an awesome picture, I didn’t even remember hubs taking it!! :)
  • All three of my babies are currently sleeping: hubs, Champ and Honey. I love them all so very very very much. I am so incredibly grateful to be exactly where I am.

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A day in the (maternity leave) life

I want to remember what these idyllic maternity leave days have been like recently….

530am-ish The babies wake up and coo like crazy in their (new big boy and big girl!) cribs. Honey is always ravenous and begins shrieking for food somewhere between the diaper change and the walk to the kitchen for her bottle. I drop her off with hubs in our bed and he begins feeding her while I go attend to Champ’s diaper and bottle. I turn on the coffee machine. (Yes, I drink caffeine while BFing.) I bring him back to bed and pump for 30 minutes while I feed him. (Why don’t I nurse them now? Because my boobs release a rocket stream of milk in the early morning hours and the babies choke and cry with frustration.) Sometimes the babies wake up as early as 430am, sometimes as late as 6am.

6am We play and snuggle with the babies. Honey starts squealing with fatigue and Champ rubs his eyes. If I am feeling really ambitious, during this nap-y time for the babeis, I will pull on my workout clothes, plop them in their car seats and carry them both down the three flights of outdoor back stairs of the apartment building to the communal basement. I’ll drag out the jogging stroller, strap in the babies, hide the car seats out of sight (they hang out in them while I get the stroller set-up/folded down), unlock the back gate, and head for the lake path. They nap while I jog (ahem, shuffle) along pushing the stroller. I think I’m going to have to do early-morning-jog–thing more regularly if I hope to get any exercise when I go back to work. The cool thing about it is that they would nap during this time if we were home, so I don’t feel like, once I go back to work, I’d be sacrificing play time with them for a workout. Honestly? The biggest deterrent is the physical and mental challenge of getting them up and down the stairs. Those car seats are freaking heavy!

8am We get back from the workout, settled in back upstairs and I feed the babies again. I put them in their swings and talk to them while I wash all of the dirty bottles and breast pump supplies that have stacked up since 1130pm.

8:30am This is when the day starts to diverge into a crap shoot. Because their napping is currently taking precedence over feeding them together (which was a break-through for me at 7ish weeks), they don’t eat at the same time like they were from 7 to 13 weeks. I juggle naps and playing with/feeding them together or alone for pretty much the rest of the day.

Play time, story time, laundry, chores, etc.

10am Another feeding, hopefully nurse one baby while the other one naps.

Play time, story time, laundry, chores, etc.

11:30am I pump again. Maybe I nurse a baby if the timing works out. In which case, I pump afterward.

12pm Another feeding. Then play on the back porch with one baby while the other one sleeps. I’ll eat lefties for lunch at some point. Then maybe we meet a friend for a playdate. Maybe we take a walk outside. Maybe we go to the grocery store for a few items so I can make something fun for din. (Tho I usually won’t take another walk if I’ve already jogged with them in the morning because it’s so dang exhausting!) At any rate, I try to get them some fresh air around now.

Play time, story time, laundry, chores, etc.

2pm Ideally, a nursing session with the other baby so they each get at least one per day. I always offer them bottles after nursing tho—because they don’t seem to get as much off the boob as they really need.

3pm The witching hour begins. Seriously, once the clock strikes 3pm, things get intense….bedtime is on the horizon and the babies start to cluster feed. (A word I learned in blog land!) Instead of eating every 2–3 hours, they eat every 1–1.5 hours for  total of three feeds between 3pm and bedtime. Naps ensue. Sometimes Honey will want to sleep as late as 530pm. (Yeah, nutso.) That used to terrify me, but now I’m happy when it happens because it usually means she’ll last until 7pm to go to bed.

4pm I pump again. I used to do a 2pm and 6pm pump for 5 total each day (down from the 6-8/day I was doing until 10ish weeks), but recently nixed one knowing that I can’t pump 3x (11am, 2pm, 6pm) when I’m back at work. Pretty sure this decision cost me at least a few ounces a day, but I’m okay with that.

530pm Honey has had enough and wants to go to bed NOW. I sing for her. (I have a horrible voice.) I dance for her. We bounce on the bed. She alternates giant smiles and doing I’m-a gonna-meltdown-annnny-second–squeals. It’s heartbreakingly funny. Champ gets fussy, too: He juts out his lower lip and puffs his cheeks and my heart melts for the dozenth time in one day.

545pm Prep bottles—the babies get formula before bed. I’m producing about 40oz of breast milk a day so there’s not enough to give both babies b-milk at every feeding.

6pm It’s all I can do to keep them in good spirits at this point, they are really zonkered. Now it’s bath time, I (quickly) bathe both babies every night as part of their “wash off the day, it’s almost bedtime” routine. I keep one in the Baby Bjorn bouncer in the bathroom while I bathe the other. I also keep a car seat in the bathroom so I can feed the clean and jammie-ed up baby with a propped bottle while I bathe the other baby. I’m trying my best to begin the bedtime routine at 7pm—in the hopes that I can be home from work for it more often—but usually they are so incredibly cranky by 6pm that we start now.

6:30pm I put them to bed. If hubs is home and not working on his dissertation, he will help by feeding one baby and putting him/her to bed while I’m feeding the other. Like I mentioned (um, a few times now!), would really love for this to happen at 7 or 730pm, but I’m following their cues and this is when they like to go to bed right now. I wash all of the bottles and breast pump supplies that have stacked up since 8am.

730pm Hubs and I are on red alert listening for crying and general angst in the nursery. The babies are going down easier and easier. (Please no jinxies, sleep gods!!!!!!) We usually begin making dinner around now. I read/comment on blogs and mess around on my new obsession, Pinterest.com. Maybe do the laundry that never got done during the day. Clean up around the apartment.

830pm We eat and watch TV. Clean up din. I prep the next morning’s bottles. Etc.

11pm I pump for 30 minutes.

When I write it all out, it really doesn’t sound as tiring as the way I feel by 11:30pm. (Notice nothing happens with the babies between 7pm and 430am-630am ish?!?!?! This has been our blissful blessing since 13.5 weeks. PLEASE no jinxies!!!) Yet somehow, despite the fact that I am getting a heavenly 5-7 hour stretch of sleep each night, I am so freaking exhausted every night. And I know this is a golden period, because I’m not working, the babies aren’t running around requiring me to chase them everywhere, etc etc etc. Is it the pumping that wears me down? The constant  feed-play-etc attention the babies require during their waking hours since their naps aren’t overlapping right now? (Newsflash: I’m going to be tired for the rest of my life! That’s okay! I know I’m very very very lucky!!!!)

Anyway, that’s the drill. I am currently doing some dry runs of our new “working Mom” routine so things will be tweaked. I’ll update this once I’m back at the office. AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

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Dum dum dum dum DUM

I go back to work in two weeks. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I remember when the babies were born and feeling like my four months of maternity leave was going to be an ETERNITY. Well, it was and it wasn’t. First of all, I am in COMPLETE AWE of you rockstar Moms who go back after 6, 8, 10, 12 weeks. You guys are seriously awesome. At 6 weeks post-partum I was a complete mess. I cannot fathom having my sh*t together enough at that point to be able to leave the house in a presentable outfit, have coherent conversations, etc etc etc. You guys are amazing, seriously, amazing.

I am a mix of (inarticulate) emotions about my return to work.

At the moment, the overwhelming feeling is NERVES. I was working from home (those scary bedrest days) for five weeks before the babies came. Which means I haven’t been in the office since February 11. That was a loooooooooooong time ago. I was constantly on the phone with and emailing/IMing with coworkers during that time so it wasn’t like I was totally off the grid, but you know what I mean.

Since the babies came, I have compleeeeeeeeeeetely checked out of work. Well, I check my email every three weeks or so to clean it out and make sure I’m not missing a staff-wide notice about an open part-time position (hahaha), but that’s seriously the extent of it. I am also friendly with several coworkers so we’ve exchanged emails about the babies/work gossip/etc off line. But I have missed SO MUCH. Two humongous projects that I love overseeing every summer? Another staffer handled them. A major MAJOR change at my business? They sailed the stormy waters without me.

I feel really weird about the fact that “life went on” remarkably well without me at work. They have done just fine. (How in the world did they manage that?! Kidding, kidding.) Do they need me anymore? Are people going to be annoyed at me that I took four months of leave instead of the standard three? (And why the frack do I care all of a sudden?) Am I still going to be good at my job? Will I still command respect when I come back? Not just because I was GONE for so long, but because now I’m sure to be thought of as a softie, maternal, waaaah-I-miss-my-babies woman and not the tough-as-nails, burn-the-midnight-oil worker-bee I once was. (Okay, to be fair, I have always been a softie.)

As of this week, I keep showing up at my office in my dreams and it’s freaking me out.

Also, is it completely f-ed up that I’m fixated on THIS stuff and not the obvious?

That being, of course, that after four months of caring for my sweet, sweet, SWEET little babies 24-7, I will suddenly be working 50+ hours a week? Shouldn’t I be freaking out about going into withdrawal from my little ones? About how much I will miss them? Shouldn’t I be afraid of crying at my desk? How sad will I be on the nights I can’t put them to bed? How resentful am I going to be on the three nights a week that I work late? Am I going to be okay? Are the babies going to be okay without me? How will I pump? Should I stop BFing now? Will the nanny be as awesome as we think she is?

Le sigh.

Like I said, I’m a mix of emotions and I think I’m subconsciously focusing on the mental stuff: the extreme weirdness/anxiety of returning to my office job and how I’ll deal….instead of the big issue tugging at my heart: how much I’ll miss my babies.

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Zen-er

My poor hubs has dealt with my high-strung personality for more than 10 years. I get VEEEEEERY annoyed in traffic jams. I HAAAAATE it when flights are delayed and cancelled. I DESPIIIIIIISE being late to appointments/events/reservations/etc. When I spill something or break something, it’s freak-out city. My worst trait, I must admit, is my extreme impatience and tendency to make a mountain out of a mole hill. (As you can imagine, I was a real joy to be around during all of my IF treatments—especially with all of those dang cysts!!!) I don’t know why I’m this way, but I am.

But the babies have definitely helped soften that hard edge.

We flew to Florida for a week in the sun over the 4th of July. It was our second airport/plane extravaganza with the babies (who are now 3.5 months old!) and I must say that it went beautifully. There were hiccups, of course….

  • I left their birth certificates at home and for the first time, the check-in dude asked for them. (It was fine.)
  • Honey had a ginormous, sloppy, change-of-clothes-necessary poop-splosion during the first leg of our flight. (I am becoming a pro at diaper changes in airplane restrooms.)
  • There was lightening in the area when we landed in Florida, so it took our baggage 1.5 hours to come out as the baggage guys had to wait for the lightening to pass before unloading the plane. (I thanked our lucky stars we were sitting in the airport and not on the plane! And I pumped in the ladies room.)
  • Their fuzzy napping/bedtime schedules got all out of whack. (I did my best to preserve the sked, but took deep, laid-back breaths when it didn’t go exactly as I wanted it to go thanks to doting and meant-well-but-didn’t-totally-get-how-important-the-naps-and-bedtime-routine-are aunts, grandparents and uncle. The babies were little champs despite it all!)
  • When we returned home, on a plane filled with babies, holding Champ, Honey, two bottles and two over-flowing diaper bags, our gate-checked stroller was the only one not to come up to the jetway. (We calmly, yet sternly, suggested the flight attendant go down and find it and he did!)
  • Our car seats didn’t make it onto the baggage claim carousel at the end of the trip. (After an hour of waiting for them, I finally checked with baggage services and learned they had been dropped off in an area for oversized baggage that I’d never heard about. Score!)

These babies—and all of the adventures we have because of them—seem to really bring out the zen in me.

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