Please Vote! Sunday, May 31st

Hello Everyone!  Enormous thanks go to our wonderful MoM’s who have agreed to “try out” for HDYDI! We are beyond thrilled that so many of you are reading along with us, and we hope you enjoy our contest week.  Please vote for the author you would like to hear more from, as the authors with the most votes at 12:00am Eastern Time on Sunday, June 7th, will be invited to write for HDYDI. Enjoy and PLEASE VOTE!

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My name is Melanie and I have eight year old fraternal twin girls, Reagan and Riyan. I am a SAHM to five, adding number six this week!

 Separation Twinxiety

by Melanie

When the twins were born, Reagan had to stay in the NICU while Riyan was able to come home immediately. This is the first time they were separated. It is absolutely heartbreaking to have to pull away from the hospital without your baby. Not to mention, I thought somehow this would be damaging to their bonding to one another by being separated for so long immediately after birth.

Reagan came home three weeks later and I remember laying them together on the couch. I held my breath, wondering if they would feel each others presence. When their little hands entwined, it brought tears to my eyes. Finally, the set was once again complete.

When my twins were just under a year, my mom had this idea. She thought maybe it would be fun for the twins to spend some alone time, without the other twin, with mom and dad. Her plan, in theory, sounded like a good one. She took Riyan to stay overnight with her. We both enjoyed our day with our respective twin.

Later that night, my mom calls. She is unable to get Riyan to sleep. She is fussy and unable to settle down. Hours later, she calls again because Riyan is still awake and crying full force now. Around two in the morning, she finally brings Riyan home. I open the door and my crying baby immediately lunges for me and seems to settle somewhat. Then she does the most amazing thing. She points upstairs to her room. It wasn’t me she wanted at all. So I climb the stairs and put her down next to her sister. I quietly stir Reagan awake so Riyan can see her sister. Riyan cuddled up with her and went fast asleep.

Once school started, we were faced with the dilemma on whether they should be in the same kindergarten class or if we should separate them. Riyan was painfully shy so we thought it better to keep them together. After all, starting school is a huge change and we weren’t sure Riyan would handle it well alone. There were some incidences of Reagan speaking for Riyan but they had a wonderful teacher who encouraged them to blossom into individuals.

At the end of the school year, I met with her teacher to decide when it was best to separate them into different classes. The school was very supportive of any decision I made. She introduced me to the first grade teachers and some other parents of twins in school. One mom I talked to encouraged me to do it early. Her twins were in fifth grade and she had kept them together until that year. They had a difficult time adjusting to being in separate classes. Another consideration was Reagan was more advanced then Riyan and by being in different classes, Riyan wouldn’t notice as much. We didn’t want her getting frustrated or feeling inadequate. I decided to put them in different classes and I think it was just the right time. They again blossomed with new friends and new experiences.

Our final challenge with separation came just recently. A friend of Reagan’s invited her to a sleep over…without Riyan. Riyan put on a tough exterior but you could tell she was a little jealous. After Reagan left, she just sat on the fence and looked at the ground. We had arranged for one of her friends to come stay but it was hours until she could come. I could not stand watching my little baby so bummed sitting on that fence. I scooped her up and we went to the movies. It kept her mind off being alone for the first time in a long time.

They are going to be nine soon and I don’t foresee encountering any more separation issues. As they get older, I think they will be better able to cope with being apart. In hindsight, I think maybe be should have tried more to encourage them to more individual, less of a set. They handled it all pretty well. Maybe it was my heart that couldn’t take it. Maybe I am hopelessly doomed to pairs forever since having twins, even with inanimate objects. If I go to buy something at the store and see that there is two left on the shelf, I must by them both. I can’t leave one behind. Now if I could just finish knitting the other sock I promised my mom two Mother’s Days ago.

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After a bunch of Clomid cycles and two IUIs with Clomid Erin was finally diagnosed with 700 yr old eggs, so it was straight to IVF. Cycle #1 was a bust, but #2 was the charm. Now she’s the SAHM to 13 month old boy/girl twins!

 She and her husband think they used to have some interests, but now they spend all their free time trying to figure out how they got so damn lucky.  Musings on that and lots more can be found at www.momsprung.com

To Fence Or Not To Fence?

by Erin

Ok, this is for real now.

Up ’til now I’ve been doing this twin thing with what I’ll admit is a sense of smug superiority.  I often found myself wondering just why all these people were wondering how I do it, and why they kept referring to my tiny pals as “double trouble.”  It just didn’t seem so bad!  And of course I always had the old, “Well, two babies is all I know!”

I happily rode the “I don’t know any better” train for a long time and let me tell you that train is off the tracks!  These two kids move nonstop in opposite directions and they do it fast.  They have absolutely no fear and even less common sense.  They are addicted to brick, tile, sharp corners and although they hate to be cliché, electrical outlets.

My life as a twin mom has officially begun.

I’m not sure if I’m prepared for it, and I’m certain that my house isn’t.  There was a family with one year old twins in our old apartment complex and I used to sneer into their apartment in the evenings. (Don’t you just love looking in people’s houses at night?)  Their living room was completely devoid of furniture and there was just a giant play yard.  I told just about everyone I know how ridiculous it seemed to me and of course told them how I’d NEVER do that, that the babies need to learn to explore and all kinds of other nonsense.  I’m sure you know where this is headed, right?

Yup.  I am seriously considering a play yard.

We just got back from ten days at my mom’s house which just so happen to be the same ten days that these two kiddos blossomed from sedentary blobs (thanks Angie!)  into the movers and shakers they are today.  As Hubs put it on his way to work Monday morning, my vacation was WAY more over than his.  I cannot believe how fast they are.  And how little regard they have for potential head trauma!  Sassy’s new favorite place to pull up is the seat of the jumperoo.  You know the one that bounces and swings?  DANGER!  They also like bookshelves, potted plants, you name it.  The safe, padded storage ottomans that I bought for just this purpose are “like so February, Mom!”

So yeah, I’ve been thinking about getting a babyprison.  I’ve made it for two days so far with both skulls intact, but that’s included a long drive to pick up the dog from the kennel, a lunch outing, a trip to the Discovery Museum, and countless walks.  All in all, very little time in the house of peril.   And even with all those diversions I am physically exhausted by 6pm.  This safety monitor business is hard work!  I will continue to resist the fence as long as I can, but I totally see the benefit of it.  Sorry for all the sneers, former neighbors!!

So, other twin moms:  Did you use a play yard?  If so did it offer a bit of relief?  And if not, how did you approach the safety issue?  HELP!!!

OK, HDYDI’ers…Right about now you’re thinking, “Wait a second!  This chick isn’t helping us at all!  She’s asking for help!”  You’re right.  I was.  I even looked to HDYDI for advice!  As it turns out there was a twofold solution to my problem.

 The first thing we did was to turn our 3rd bedroom into a playroom.  I’m really not sure why we didn’t do this beforehand, but thankfully we’ve got it figured out now.  

If you ask me, choosing one room and making it completely 100% baby-safe is an absolute must for multiple-moms.  Even if you don’t have a spare bedroom, give up your living room or dining room.  Trust me, it will be worth it!  Converting that room has made every aspect of my day so much better.  I used to be at a loss once my husband left for work.  Now, we head into the playroom.  I can chill on the futon and drink coffee while the kids play, or (once I’m fully awake) I can hang out on the floor and play with them.  Either way, I know that the kids are super safe, even before the caffeine has a chance to hit my bloodstream.  I can even leave them in there and go to the bathroom!  No one told me that having twins meant you never got to go to the bathroom.  I mean honestly, people, that would have been good information!

The second piece of the solution is a cocktail of patience, vigilance and wine…  UGH!  I hate it when people say “patience”!  But it’s true.  You’ll need a little patience to wait it out until your kids get a bit steadier.  You’ll need vigilance to keep them safe.  And you’ll need that wine to calm your nerves once they’re asleep. 

It’s about two months now since I wrote that plea for help.  This relatively short time has seen a huge change in their abilities as well as my ability to let them be a bit daring (aka “stupid”).  As long as there’s no major danger (electrical outlets, etc.) I try to let them make some mistakes.  In the end, I think it will help them learn.  Wait, am I just telling myself that?   Only time will tell.  They just started walking a couple of days ago, so I’m sure there will be many more “learning opportunities” ahead!

P.S.  If you need to crack that vino open before the babies’ bedtime, you go right ahead.  I won’t tell!

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I am a 28 year-old mother of identical girls, Isabel and Beatrice. We are Brazilian and live in Brazil. I went to college to study music and graduated as a classical guitar player, but since then I have not worked with music, except for helping my husband, who is also a guitarist and teaches in another university. Now I work as a translator and interpreter, mostly of technical stuff – IT, websites, business conferences of all kinds. I believe we would classify as an attachment parenting family, although that is not much different from what most families in Brazil do, except perhaps for the exclusive breastfeeding part. My girls are now 7 months old, extremely healthy and crazily smart – started crawling on their 6 month birthday and are already cruising around the house.

A Successful (but hard) Journey Breastfeeding Twins Exclusively

by Julia

[This is an abridged and improved version of the report I wrote for the breastfeeding community in orkut (a sort of Brazilian Facebook) when the girls turned 6 months old. You can read the full report in Portuguese in our blog. There will be a mirror version of the blog in English soon!]

Help

The best piece of advice I read (here at HDYDI!) on breastfeeding twins, before they were even born was: get yourself some books, Internet or cable TV, sit your butt on the couch and do nothing else for a couple of months. And accept all the help you can. I took it to the letter. My only obligation was nursing. And I really couldn’t do much else, both because there was no time and because of the c-section pain. Changing diapers, bathing, rocking – those were things I did if I felt like it or were available, which was not often. Usually, what little free time I had was used to have a shower or to sleep. Or brush my teeth. And eat, always.

The grandmas spent most of the first month here. They cooked and brought me food on the couch the whole day. Every half hour, my mom would ask me: “want some water?” I always did.  Mother-in-law cooked traditional milk-inducing goodies – corn, chicken soup (whether they worked or not I don’t know, but they were delicious!). Daddy did everything he could (he only just missed breastfeeding, hehe), and they were lucky to have been born just before the school summer vacation. He is a university teacher, so he could stay at home until they were 3 months old. First baths, first diapers, were his. Grandmas took the babies for walks around the block and sunbaths. During the night, the three of them took turns holding one baby while I fed the other. The girls and I have a lot to thank them for that. We also hired a maid when they were about 20 days. She is still with us and is also a wonderful nanny, loves the girls and they love her.

I do believe we could have survived without all that help in the first months. But it would not have been healthy. The way it was, I spent these two or three months on the limit – of sleep deprivation, pain, the desperation of not knowing what to do or when to do things, of isolation. If I had had to do laundry, cook and clean, it would have been a whole other story. Maybe I would have gotten sick, maybe wouldn’t have been able to breastfeed, maybe my marriage would be ruined.

Sleep, food and allergies

We co-sleep since they were born. To prevent one having more milk than the other, I alternate: for one week, Isabel will nurse on my right at night and on the left during the day. Every Monday, we switch. During the day, they would hardly go for more than 15 minutes if I put them in bed, so I developed a technique of feeding both at the same time while laying down and that was how we took 2 hours naps during the day in the crazy 3-4 month crisis when they woke up AT LEAST every hour at night.

At that time of desperation, when I started dreading going to bed knowing I just wouldn’t sleep, it hit me that there might be a food allergy. They presented many classical symptoms: interrupted sleep, mucousy cough, a lot of droll, constant rashes, fussiness while nursing (they kicked and pinched me heavily, my arms were marked by their little nails.) I decided to cut off dairy. In a week, the rash was gone, in two weeks there was no more cough and in three or four weeks they started sleeping a bit better. But it wasn’t very good yet. It improved a lot when I cut off gluten. The end of the night as dawn came closer used to be torture (for them and for me.) From 3 or 4 in the morning onwards, they woke non-stop every half hour and nursed desperately without being able to go back to sleep. Now they usually sleep for two hours, then wake and feed and quickly doze off.

After 6 weeks off dairy, I had a piece of Easter chocolate, which gave me two constipated babies who could hardly nurse five hours later and had runny noses and cough for the next three weeks. It happened again when I unknowingly had a bite of an omelet with cheese a couple of weeks ago. Trying to reintroduce gluten failed, too – they went back to fussy nursing, kicking and tossing the whole night – just not worth it, even though I tried to lessen the impact of the wheat by fermenting it overnight.

A good thing about all this dieting is that at 7 months I have shed all of my pregnancy weight and a couple more pounds, without lifting anything but my babies. It is true that my leg and stomach muscles are mush, though.

Work

I am a translator and interpreter. Before they were born, I worked from home from 4 to 12 hours a day, depending on the demand. I worked out of the house interpreting events and seminars two or three times a month. The last seminar I interpreted was at 34 weeks gestation – 3 days of a conference on medicine I did by myself, speaking for hours on end. I was so big that my breath often failed me. Not to talk about the 400 km I travelled to get there. After that, I did some translation at home and started to slow down.

I started to accept translation jobs again 2 months post partum. I calculated that I could keep only my best clients (i.e. less work for more money), working two to three hours a day and be able to have some income and be merciful on my savings account. Most of the time I work at night when they go to bed, often till very late. When there is too much work I work during the day, baby at the breast, anyway I can. Of course the husband and the maid/nanny are there to help at those times.

Julia and babies_HDYDI

Today I have just come back from my first interpreting job in 9 months. It was a wedding between a Brazilian girl and an American guy, his family came and I translated the ceremony for them. The nanny came to spend a couple of hours with my husband, only because it was the crucial bedtime hours. They did well – Isabel slept right after I left and Beatrice did not sleep, but was ok when I came back at 8 p.m. So it seems we are on the road to independence!

Them and me

 One of the things that bother me most in having needed a c-section (I labored for 10 hours in full dilation at 39 weeks, but they got stuck – baby A was breech) is that I cannot recall the first time I breastfed. On one hand, this is a good thing – my doctor was adamant about having them on the breast as soon as I left the surgery room. I can vaguely remember a dream where my face itched (morphine) and there were babies on top of me. I have no idea if it hurt, if the latch was good, if there was any milk.

I calculate I spent more than 12 hours a day breastfeeding in the first two months. Today, I probably still spend about 6. When people ask me whether I enjoy nursing, I don’t always know what to say. It used to be so constant there wasn’t much I could compare to. Now that it is calmer, I can say I really like feeding one at a time, playing with their little hands while they play with me. I like it when they need to sleep, come to the breast and immediately become all soft and relaxed. It cracks me up when they are so interested in what is going on around us that they unlatch and throw themselves back to watch. It is delightful to nurse them laying down, with time to hold them and savor their warmth. And it melts my heart to see them holding hands and looking into each other’s eyes whenever they are nursing at the same time.

Beatrice_Isabel_HDYDI

 

A HDYDI First

Mark your calendars! Beginning this Sunday, May 31st and running through Sunday, June 7th, we will be hosting our new author contest!

We were blown away by everyone’s responses to join the ranks of HDYDI MoM’s, and are thrilled to be hosting a week-long contest of wonderful writers!

Stay tuned for a week of fabulous posts! And don’t forget to link away! Thanks!

Divorce, marital problems, and multiples

After telling my husband I would not watch the season premiere of Jon and Kate Plus 8 last night, I ended up tivoing it anyway and watching it. I was sad after the show and stayed up way too late thinking about it. What really got me was when Kate said divorce rates are so much higher for multiple parents and they thought they would beat that statistic. The other part that was very hard for me to watch was the kids asking Jon when he was coming home and telling him they missed him. I am a total believer the majority of reality tv is scripted, but those moments still took my breath away.

In the multiples community, you can’t help but hear of two very sad realities: children dying and divorce. Every time I hear of a sick or dying child, I hug my kids close and gain some perspective. After watching that show last night, I’m going to hug my husband close and gain some perspective. My husband and I have been through some very tough things together: his back problems and surgery, double unemployment, my hearing loss and surgery. Yet having twins was very hard on our marriage because there was so much to do, so much stress, so little sleep, so much worry, so little money, and so little time. As joyful as those early months were, they were also some of our hardest together.

My boys are three now and I can say that my marriage is as strong as it has ever been. Yet last night I realized I can always do more to show my appreciation, work on my marriage, and commit to staying happy together. I don’t think I’ll watch the rest of the season but for that perspective, I am thankful. I am just sorry the perspective had to come at such a high price for them.

You got to have (mom) friends

It was actually a smaller gathering than we’re used to. And a much higher adult-to-child ratio, too.  Normally, when we’re hanging out in this particular backyard, we expect to see about 10-12 kids under 3 and maybe four or five adults.  This time it was down to only seven kids, and a whopping six adults.  We hardly knew what to do with ourselves.  Ah, Memorial Day weekend with your twin mom friends.

Memorial Day BBQ

Building a community and a support system is always important.  You need people to talk to, people with whom you can share advice and stories and favors.  But while I am certainly a big fan of getting to know people with a wide variety of experiences, I also think it is key to find birds of a feather. Full-time at-home moms need to find other full-time at-home moms.  Working moms need other working moms. Homeschoolers need other homeschoolers.  And twin moms need other twin moms.

Memorial Day BBQ

While there are plenty of things that all moms have in common, there are most certainly different challenges (and joys) when you have multiples. So it’s key to have other people who understand you. Even if it’s in a virtual space like blogging, at least that’s something.  But in person is even better.

Memorial Day BBQ

What a difference from when we used to have “playdates” that involved babies asleep in carseats or bouncing around in the exersaucer.  Now we’ve got a pack of toddlers who know each other’s names, steal fruit off of each other’s plates, and play interchangeably as though they were all siblings.

Memorial Day BBQ

And the moms can hang out and marvel over how much easier it has gotten over the last two years.  Because, tantrums aside, this is oh so much more fun.

Memorial Day BBQ

We’ve survived breastfeeding (or not), first foods, sleeping through the night, shared viruses (ugh), and all the rest of it… times two. It’s nice to have people who have that shared understanding. We know the craziness, we know the fun. We are, perhaps as much by necessity as by personality, a fairly laid-back and practical bunch (just don’t get us started on people who keep their kids up too late or don’t have a nap schedule).  We get each other.  And that’s a mighty nice thing to have in your life.

Memorial Day BBQ

Writers Wanted!

THANK YOU everyone for your overwhelming response! We are so excited to know how many MoM’s read and enjoy HDYDI!

We will be sorting through your responses (loved them all!) and figuring out a few things over the next week. Expect to receive an email in the near future.

At this time, the comments section has been closed.

All our best,

~the HDYDI MoM’s

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Hello Folks!

We HDYDI bloggers are looking for a few new contributors! Here is your chance!

Are you a Mom or Dad of multiples?

Are you a nanny or grandmother of multiples?

Are you pregnant with twins or triplets?

Are your multiples under the age of 1? Toddlers? School age?

WE WANT YOU!

Please leave us a comment with your name, email address, link to your blog (if applicable) and a short statement about what makes your situation perfect for HDYDI!

Can’t wait to “meet” all of you!
~the HDYDI MoM’s

Singing Happy Birthday to Multiples

My boys turned three on Saturday and we sang Happy Birthday to them individually. They have to share SO MUCH that I thought it would be nice to give them individual attention on their birthday. Alex went first since he is the oldest, so technically his birthday is first! Then a couple of comments on my blog made me wonder what other multiple parents do? Do you sing it once? And those of you who are multiples, what did you do growing up and what did you wish was done?

One thing I did learn – keep the boys away from each other’s cupcakes/cakes in future birthdays. This is Alex blowing out Nate’s candles!

Cupcake

(Photo courtesy of Wendy Willis.)

Why I Hate Weekends

One thing I’ve discovered, in my almost two years as a stay-at-home mom, is that “weekends” just don’t have nearly the same ring to them as they used to.  In my pre-kids working days, I loved the weekend as much as the next person.  Get up when I feel like it, stay in my pajamas if I so choose, maybe go out for Sunday brunch or an impromptu Saturday night sushi dinner.  Maybe I’d be good and go to the gym, maybe not.  Leisure. Freedom.

Ha.

Turns out, my toddlers don’t know the first thing about sleeping in on the weekends or the joy of doing absolutely nothing.  No, they want the exact same routine as every other day. Wake up, have breakfast, watch Sesame Street, get dressed, have an activity/outing, eat lunch, nap, play some more, have dinner, go to bed.

For me, Saturday ain’t that different from Wednesday.  Except my husband (M) is home instead of at work.  And I’m tired of the Groundhog-Day repeating of our day-to-day. I still feel this pull towards the idea of the weekend, as though I’m due some blissful quiet.  And so is my husband.  So while I’m always scheduled and routined during the week, and can be surprisingly efficient with my time, the weekend days have a tendency to slip by.  We’re still in our pajamas too late, and not in the relaxing way.  But in the “what do you want to do? I don’t know, what do you want to do?” kind of way.  And in the meantime, the kids are bored and cranky, and I’ve lost my sense of time and forgotten to give them a morning snack.

seesaw swing

It’s the weekend when I feel ambivalence toward my routinized ways.  On the one hand, I’m tired of them and want to forget about them.  On the other hand, the lack of routine makes me realize the degree to which I rely on them, and the degree to which they make my kids (and, by extension, me) much happier people.

I think that what I really need is a weekend routine.  Something different from the weekday, so the SAHM thing gets a little bit of a change-up.  But something relatively set and predictable, so the day can still move along and we don’t all go nuts until I explode and yell “we have to leave the house RIGHT NOW!”

Checking out the tractor

As with many things parenting-related, it’s also a question of setting and meeting (or not) appropriate expectations.  Expecting the weekend to be leisurely and relaxing is just setting us all up for failure.  And it’s when inappropriate expectations are set (and, subsequently, not met) that I get the most frustrated.

Obviously, weekends can be and have been times of fun.  Trips to the farm or a fun birthday party, going out for lunch to a Mexican restaurant, etc.  Fun.  But I think I need to balance the need for fun with the need for routine.

And get it through our thick heads that weekends as we once knew them are long gone.

Generation Z

While paging through the May 2009 issue of Ladies Home Journal, I came across an article titled “Workplace Wars.” The author, Carol Mithers, wrote about the cultural clash occurring between the Baby Boomers (born between 1946-1964); Generation X (born between 1965 and 1980); and Generation Y or “the Millennials” (born between 1981-2000.) A small but shrinking percentage (about 8%) of the workforce is composed of the “Matures” (born between 1922-1945.)

Mithers speaks candidly of the various workplace differences that crop up when four generations with very different perspectives of the world work together. One paragraph in particular struck me:

Then there are the Millennials-at a whopping 83 million, the biggest generation of all. Millennials are techno-kids, glued to their cell phones, laptops and iPods. They’ve grown up in a world with few boundaries and think nothing of forming virtual friendships through the Internet or disclosing intimate details of themselves on social networking sites. And, many critics charge, they’ve been so coddled and overpraised by hovering parents that they enter the job market convinced of their own importance. (emphasis added)

The article continues:

Cultures also collide over such basics as how to work, what hard work means and what it takes to get ahead. For people in their 40s and 50s, dedication to a job usually means coming in early, staying late and doing nothing else during work hours. To young workers, who’ve been multitasking their whole lives-instant messaging friends, while watching TV and checking MySpace, all while doing homework-a single focus is a waste of time.

I was born is 1980, and as such skidded into Generation X by the skin of my teeth. I was raised in a rural area on the East Coast that could probably be considered a little behind the times. I was raised in a strong Christian family with my step-father, mom, brother and adopted sister. My step-dad is a carpenter and his hands bear the scars of exhausting hard work. My mom is now an insurance agent, but cleaned houses when we were school-aged so she could be home with us. My parents are extremely hard workers.

My parents modeled tough love, a strong faith in God, integrity, hard work and dedication to the family. I learned a lot from them. Specifically, the high value they placed upon family.

I wonder what my children, and their generation will say about us, their parents? Will they say we were always too busy multitasking to truly pay attention? Will they say we cared more about productivity than people?

I certainly hope not, but I find myself being pulled toward the computer to check my email or update my blog when the kids are awake (I try to save my computer time for nap time.) I find that I get frustrated with all the messes and although I try, it is hard to relax when my environment is messy. Perhaps I value technology and productivity a bit too much?

My other concern is in over-praising or coddling my children.

“…they’ve been so coddled and overpraised by hovering parents that they enter the job market convinced of their own importance…”

In this day and age, technology is so easily utilized, that we have our children’s entire lives recorded in blogs, virtual scrapbook pages, on You tube and dvd recordings. I adore my children, and am so glad that I have blogged about their lives as a way or remembering and preserving our memories…but at what point does it cross the line? Is it possible that in this documentation we over-inflate our child’s sense of worth, there by doing them a disservice when they enter the job market?

I would love to hear your thoughts on Generation Z…what are your hopes and dreams for the emerging generation? What values/beliefs/hopes do you wish to pass on? What would you like to see change? What values from the “Matures” and “Baby Boomers” would you like to see continue in our society?

Divas and Dudes

Contrary to popular lesbian stereotypes, the majority of our friends are straight with most of those having kids. We’ve been to exactly one gay bar exactly one time and it was about as both appealing and appalling as any other bar. Neither of us are man-haters. I won’t leave the house without lipstick. We’ve been together nearly nine years, we’ve both been highly involved in our church, and many of our straight friends have been to more Pride Parades than we have, primarily because we’ve been to exactly zero of them. As if that doesn’t raise enough eyebrows, we went about embarking on a journey to get pregnant.

For we same-sexers, getting pregnant is a deliberate, planned, and oftentimes prayed for occurrence. “Oops!” is never a part of our conception story. We correct the doctor’s estimated delivery date because we know Exactly. When. It. Happened. Being a new mom turns your world on its ear. Being a mom of twins presents its own unique challenges. Being a lesbian mom add several layers of trickiness.

One thing I’ve learned as a mom of twins is that we have to anticipate as much as possible, plan as best as we are able, and be prepared for the unexpected. One thing I’ve learned as a lesbian mom is that you pretty much have to do that in almost every area of your life due to the often-experienced discrimination against same-sex couples.

Medical care, for example. None of my straight friends had to first interview their fertility clinic, their OB/GYN, the pediatrician, and the daycare to determine their level of openness and willingness to help me get pregnant, deliver, treat, and care for our children. The conversations often went something like this: “Hi, my name is Rachel and this is my partner, Jennifer. I am pregnant with twins and after they are born, Jennifer will also adopt them. We will both be their moms. If this is an issue for you personally or with the staff in general, please let me know now so that we might find a more open and professional provider. Your clinic/practice/school comes highly recommended but with all the other things that will come at us with twins, we need to know that those we entrust for the care of our children are supportive of our family structure.” I am grateful to say that we chose the best providers and all of them stayed on board. Not so on the spiritual front.

Do you know how hard it is to find a church that is open to and accepting of a two-mom household? Try locating a couple of those in your area that isn’t the “gay” church or some one-off splinter denomination. And once you do, does it have a good children’s program? Does it have a children’s program at all? Does the worship style fit with the ways you feel most connected? Do people avoid shaking your hand during the giving of Peace because a husband isn’t around to make them comfortable? As open as our mainstream Methodist church is in general, there was a small but palpable sense of displeasure that the pastor baptized the children of a same-sex couple in their church.

Godparents & Pastor

Growing up, I was very involved in my youth group and Young Life; I was the President of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes. I received my undergraduate degree from a southern Baptist university, where I was also a Young Life leader. So it’s no wonder that I’m surrounded by many people for whom my coming out kind of threw their preconceived notions of what a gay person was like through the cross shredder. I am so blessed that many of those friends have come out in a way themselves: more accepting, more open to others unlike themselves. A handful in my life did not, particularly after I decided to get pregnant.

One of the favorite questions of the disapproving is “who will be the male figure in their lives?” asked with the connotation of “Gotcha, bitch!” and the inflection of shards of glass. Unsurprisingly, my friend whose husband was killed in a tragic car accident when she was five weeks pregnant has never been asked that question. Ever.

Still, it’s a fair question – one that I’ve thought about ever since we decided to get pregnant. More so once I knew that one of the twins was going to be a boy, and particularly since our son is outnumbered 3 to 1. Which means that he is four times more likely (I’m counting the nanny) to see a woman do an activity to model from than he is a man. Take, for example, the benign fact that we often put a bow in our daughter’s hair because (a) they’re super teeny and cute, and (b) she’s got long bangs that need help staying out of her face. About half the time, though, she yanks the bow out of her hair and tosses it to the ground. Last week, I saw my son go pick up the newly discarded bow and put it to his head, holding it there and looking up at me.

I think for most diversity-inclined, open and reconciling folks, his action might be understood as mimicking behavior that he observes, maybe even seen as cute. For the homophobes, it would be precisely the reason that gays shouldn’t have kids because a 12 month old putting a bow to his head wouldn’t have happened if there was a man around and gay people are just breaking down families across the country leading to economic depression, terrorism, and swine flu.

When it comes to clothing and appearance, yeah, I’m a little sensitive to gender stereotypes. As a lesbian mom, I think twice about putting Mateo in his pink Ralph Lauren boys polo shirt that is friggin adorable because omg how would that LOOK? So when he wears it, I’m sure to pair it with rugged blue or otherwise clearly boy shorts or pants, all the while telling myself how absurd the logic is.

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I am also a very practical person, however. We (very gratefully) receive lots of hand-me-over’s from friends and from Jennifer’s clients, so there’s lots of clearly boy and clearly girl clothing in the closets and drawers. If I’m doing the shopping, more often than not, I economize on the bottoms by buying boy clothes (like sweatpants and cotton shorts) that our daughter can wear as our son grows out of them. I mean seriously, it’s gray sweatpants! Does she really need pink ones or gray ones with a pink flower to let the world know they’re for girls? My checking account says no. I’ll differentiate with the tops, thanks. Plus, have you seen how short the summer shorts are for little girls? For crying out loud.

Diva

Harper is more cold-natured and will still sleep in poly/fleece footed pajamas. The pajamas that were given to her brother. The same ones that have footballs all over them. Just two days ago I was going to return some pajamas that I had purchased for Harper because I had looked in their closet and found that she still had all of Mateo’s 18 month pajamas she can still fit into for a while(on average, there’s a two inch and two pound difference between the two). But then I thought “you know what? She doesn’t have any of her OWN pajamas and I am going to keep this cute lady bug ruffled sleeve pajama set for her after all.” So in my practicality, I still aim for fairness. Right now, we generally have a no-dress rule in the house. Not because we don’t want to put Harper in the girl box, but because quite frankly, I think it’s just cruel to put a little girl crawler in a dress which invariable gets caught under the knees.

I was once asked by a co-worker “which one of you follows the man’s role in the house?” I am not even kidding. He was referring to household chores such as mowing the lawn and changing air filters and taking out the trash, but still. If I were step back and watch us in motion, it would look a bit of a dance: Each of us alternative which baby we bathe each night, putting the kids down together, then one of us cleans up the bath area which the other gets dinner started while the former cleans up the kids’ dinner area, then eating dinner together, then one of us tidying up the play room while the other cleans up the kitchen. On a Sunday evening, one of us restocks diaper stations while the other takes out the trash. I’m better at the bills. She’s better able to accommodate the lawn during the day due to her flexible work schedule. Because we both share in all the responsibilities of our household and child-rearing, our children will witness a sense of balance because of it.

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For us, navigating the waters of gender norms with boy/girl twins reaches far past clothing selection and chores and their play. The key will be to grow two children that are independent, confident, and respectful of themselves and others. And I think most parents would agree with those goals, regardless of what their gender profile is.

I’m not minimizing the role of a man in the everyday life of a child. And for us, both our children will be afforded generous time with their grandpas and uncles and our male friends. Our situation isn’t perfect. But neither is anyone else’s.

Being same-sex parents certainly accentuates our concerns for fairness and equality for our children, both in terms of teaching them how to respect those around them and in terms of our hopes for environments that will be supportive of their family. We are fortunate to be surrounded by people in our lives who have been forging well worn paths of fairness and equality long before we came out and long before we decided to have kids. And those folks are straight! In addition, we don’t have to look much further than some of the contributing writers here on HDYDI to gain perspective on the fact that a little boy trying on something of his sister’s doesn’t necessarily have to be a big fucking deal.

So how do we go about handling the gender norm stereotypes? It’s day to day. I’ll keep letting you know how its going. For now, I’m off to finalize the order for two dolls I’m purchasing, one each for Mateo and Harper. None of the dolls’ clothing will be dresses. And none of it will be pink or blue.

Mother's Day Lunch

Birthday emotions

The week before my twin boys turned 1, I was an emotional mess. I couldn’t stop thinking about their birth. I couldn’t stop remembering the emotions of our week in the NICU, so worried about my little boys.  I mourned the normal pregnancy, normal childbirth, and normal newborn experience I would never have. I was also ecstatic because WE MADE IT! through the first (very hard) year. Yet I was still so exhausted, so tired, and so overwhelmed.

The week before my twin boys turned 2, I was emotionally strong. I finally felt like we had our heads above water, and having twins complemented our life rather than dominated our life. I no longer mourned for experiences I would never have because I loved our life. Our life finally felt normal, and things felt easier as the boys gained more independence.

My boys turn 3 on Saturday and this week I am an emotional mess. This is the first birthday I’ve realized how very fast time is slipping through my fingers.  I see how limited my time is with my boys at home and it makes me sad because this has been an amazing ride. Usually I would try to get myself to snap out of it, but this feeling of life slipping away is helping me live in the moment and enjoy these times. In a short period of time, my babies turned into boys. As they turn from boys into adults, I want to be present in the moment.

Throughout my childhood, I clearly remember my mom crying on my birthday every year and I never understood it.  I get it now, mom.