Life with Twins

Then (as in a week ago): Oh la la la, Ariel stays in her bed until we get in the room.  Oh happy day, what a lovely child.  Oh girls are so much easier than boys.  Oh I wouldn’t even mind if she did get out of bed because she would probably just quietly read books.  Unlike her brother, who wreaks havoc if you don’t come get him within a few seconds upon waking.  Including, but not limited to, smearing poop everywhere.  (Ok, that hasn’t happened in a while, but just typing that is tempting fate).  What a lovely daughter….a week ago…..when I should have been knocking wood every time I said these things to someone……

NOW: Fast-forward to present day.  This past weekend in fact.  The lovely daughter decides, oh wait, I CAN get out of bed without a grown-up in the room.  And I can run around my room wreaking havoc.  Why didn’t I think of this before?

Thursday night.  We watched a movie (The Little Mermaid!!!) after dinner, so twins are up to bed a little after 8.  Ariel gives a hard time about laying down and getting covered up, but relents because I threaten to leave the room.  Will settles right down, Daddy covers him, Mommy kisses him goodnight.  He tells us he loves us both.  Awww.  (The “I love you’s” sometimes still have to be prompted, so it’s THE BEST when he does it on his own).

The grown-ups go back downstairs to make some tea, have a snack, watch TV, and (for me) do some laundry, etc.

We hear, through the ceiling, the pitter-patter of little feet.  First, we’re amazed it’s not The Boy.  So, up I go.  Sure enough, she’s running around, but got scared when she heard my footsteps so tried quickly to return to bed.  I cover her again and tell her to stay in bed and go to sleep.  She mentions Princess Ariel and I ask if she liked the movie.  She informs me that “my no watch movie yet, my eat dinner first!  Watch movie later.”  This is somewhat concerning because she’s obviously got some time-traveling going on that I don’t know about.  But, I figure that’s good…..she must be SO tired that she’s getting confused.  Good.

I return to my melty ice cream and soggy cone.  Yum.  Then……little feet.  Tim makes the tea while I go up again.  Now, let me tell you, I probably wouldn’t normally go up and keep checking on either of them, but it’s just so weird that she’s actually out of bed. 

She’s naked. 

She informs me that her diaper was wet and she threw it in the garbage and she needs a new one.  Although that’s somewhat annoying, I guess that’s a good sign in some ways (related to potty training).  OK, so I get a new diaper on her, tell her not to take it off again, get her jammies back on, get her back in bed, get her covered up.  Ok, done.

Back downstairs.  Little feet.  I don’t want to run the risk of her being naked again and then peeing all over the place.  So I go up again. 

I tell her that I am getting mad.  She says, incredulously, “Mad??  NO MOMMY, you not mad, you a nice mommy.  You nice to Mil-Yum, you nice to me.”  I am laughing so hard.  But I try to explain to her that even though I’m nice, I can still be angry and she better not get out of bed again.

Back downstairs again.  Little feet.  Now I really am mad.  I go upstairs again, sternly tell her this, and she crawls back up into bed.  That’s the end of that.  For real this time.

Friday night: Little feet, little feet, little feet, naked girl, new diaper, little feet, little feet.  I go up for the third time and find that her pillow and a blanket are on the floor. 

She informs me that she’s sleeping on the floor.  I ask her why.  She tells me, “my no like my big girl bed, my want to sleep on floor….it’s safer.”  WHAT??!!  Um, ok, whatever. 

It’s not a big deal, but I still try to convince her to sleep in her bed. 

I ask; what about all your stuffed animals?

Ariel responds; I’ll just bring them down here, mommy.  (She does.  I help.)

M: what about your pretty star sheets?

A: my don’t like them, my don’t like black.

M: Those aren’t black, they’re purple

A: My don’t like them.  My sleeping on floor.

M: What about your music box?

A: My just bring it down here.  Take it off!

M: No, I can’t take it off, it has to stay up there, I guess you better go back to bed.

A: No mommy, I need to figure this out.  Hmmmm (while tapping her chin)

**Pause**

A: I know, I be right back.  (goes up on her bed, presses music box, climbs back down.) There!  My figured it out.  And if it turns off, my climb back up and turn it on and come back down and sleep on floor.

So, I’m out of ideas.  She tells me again she wants to sleep on the floor, her bed is not cozy.  Ok, fine.  I convince her to lay a blanket down to sleep on and cover her up.

She’s running around again so Tim goes back up around 10. He also unsuccessfully tries to get her to sleep in her bed, so covers her up on the floor again.

I go up to bed around 11 and check on her.  She’s sleeping.  Naked.  Scrunched up on her stomach.  So I somehow get her diaper and jammies back on without waking her too much.  The diaper may or may not be taped to her stomach but that’s  a problem for the morning.  There’s a pee spot on the blanket but she’s not laying on the spot so that’s a problem for the morning also.

Saturday – no nap.  Naked twice.  Little feet for 2 and a half hours.  Closet opening and closing.  Pairs of socks separated, but still in her drawer.  Books everywhere.  She has a whole new outfit on – inside-out shorts and a tank top.  She’s not to happy she can’t wear that downstairs.

Saturday night – Tim’s dad babysat.  She did sleep on the floor but there were no little feet noises and when I checked on her before I went to bed she was clothed.

Sunday – no nap.  Naked twice.  Little feet for 2 and a half hours.  Naked again – pee on the rug.  Clothes out of the closet.  Diaper pack out of the closet – I put it out of her reach.

Sunday night – she asks me to read her a book upstairs (we always read one downstairs together before coming up), so I tell her if she lays down (still insists on the floor) and I cover her up and THEN I will read the book.  She does, I do, she stays and there’s no little feet.

No nap Monday.  Falls asleep quickly at night again. 

I’m assuming this is just a phase.  But after saying that, I better knock wood.  Hard.  This is now.

THEN:  My parents took me home after my visit at the NICU.  I was drained.  Physically and emotionally.  I didn’t want to leave, but I was ready to be home.  My mom was going to drop my dad off at home and then come to my house for a little bit and help me get settled and take care of the dogs.  But then Tim called.  He was leaving work.  Again.  I was so thrilled and so in love with this man who would constantly just put his new family over his job.  I was so amazed at his devotion.

Plus, we needed groceries. 

So my mom stayed until Tim got home.  I was just going to stay home while he ran for groceries, but decided I didn’t feel like being alone.  Plus, I wanted to talk to the pharmacist about my prescriptions.  So, off we went.  After I pumped – which was so much better on my own couch with my own pump and no worries about people wandering in and out of my room.  Still didn’t get a lot, but that was ok for now.

At Wegmans, I had to get one of those motorized carts and just follow Tim around, but that was fine.  I had used them a couple times even while pregnant because I wasn’t supposed to be on my feet for that long (because when Tim goes grocery shopping it’s no less than an hours’ worth of walking).  I putted around behind him as he meandered up and down the aisles.  I was wearing the new shirt my mom had made for me – I’m a New Mom of Twins, with a picture she had drawn of a boy and girl in a baby buggy.  So I was getting lots of attention with my little motorized cart and my shirt advertising my accomplishment.  At least people didn’t have to wonder why I was using the motorized cart. 

After our trip I wanted to sleep.  But I wanted to go to the NICU.  This was probably the beginning of realizing how selfless I could be if I really wanted to.  I could have easily taken a nap, gone to the hospital later, and not been judged about that.  But I didn’t want to.  I needed to see the babies.  And Tim did too.  We packed up some snacks, my pump supplies, and a couple of books to read while we visited.  Soon, we were on our way back to our children.  That was then.

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