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!!!!!!!

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.