Monthly Archives: January 2010

Survival of the Fittest

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Before our babies were born, people told us how nice it would be for the girls to have someone to play with while they grow up.  They told us how twins learn to get along with each other and share a special bond.  I’m sure that will all be true at some point, but right now it is survival of the fittest….

Since the girls both started moving, they are constantly competing with each other. They will grab toys out of each other’s hands. They will each take one end of a toy and pull until one loses her grip and falls over and bumps her head.

They will physically try to pull each other off my lap.  And if that doesn’t work, they’ll lean in a try to bite each other.

They eat off each other’s tray, and I’ve even seen them take food out of each other’s mouth.

I’m sure they will eventually grow out of this phase and learn that they don’t need to compete with each other.  There are enough toys and snacks for everyone. And, I’m sure at some point they’ll start cooperating to overpower their older brother, but in the meantime they’ve disproven another myth about twins.

One Cup of Tea

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November and December were great months at my house. Tiny and Buba were in great spirits almost all the time. They talked and laughed all day long and were great at entertaining each other when I needed to be doing things around the house.

But, HOLY COW, have things changed dramatically in the last two weeks or so. There has been lots of crying and shrieking and whining, along with hitting and kicking and pushing and grabbing. Someone took a toy that the other one was playing with, or someone didn’t get the color bowl that he/she wanted her snack in, and (my personal favorite) someone is doing something that the other one said not to do (“No no say beep beep!). Not good times.

Now, of course, this is not happening all day long (though some days it feels that way). But in those awful, awful moments it can be really hard to keep my cool. And sometimes I lose it. And I yell. And then I feel awful. Because I really do love my kids. And because of the three of us, I should be the one most capable of controlling my frustrations in these types of situations. Guilt, guilt, and more guilt.

But yesterday morning, as Tiny was screaming about something- something that I could not determine then and still don’t know now- I decided that I needed to reinstate the one cup of tea rule. The one cup of tea rule was something that came from my caring for multiples class. The instructor, a nurse and a mother of 6 (including a set of triplets), told us that sometimes babies cry. That’s just what they do. So, if you know they’re clean and dry, they’ve been fed and burped, and they’re not sick, and you’ve done your best to soothe them, it’s okay to put a screaming baby down and have just one cup of tea before trying to soothe the baby again.

I have to say, I rarely ever used the one cup of tea rule when Tiny and Buba were babies. But it seems perfectly appropriate now. And so that’s what I did yesterday morning. Tiny could not be soothed, and it was the type of situation in which the crying and screaming only got worse with each attempt I made to calm her. So, I walked away and made myself a cup of tea and sat down at the kitchen table to drink it. By the time I was finished, so was Tiny (thankfully!), and we continued about our morning as usual.

Perhaps, it’s an early onset of the terrible twos (we’re currently at about 22.5 months), or maybe it’s just been a series of really unfortunate events. But in either case, I would love to know what you do to keep your cool during high stress, high frustration moments involving your kiddos. How to you keep your composure when your kids are not at their best?

You can read more from reanbean at reanbean.com.

One Sick Child

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It happened last week: my worst parenting fear.  Riley had the dreaded stomach bug. Throw up = I want to run away.  When I was an elementary school teacher, on the first day of school when teachers oh so nicely go over the rules, I would always tell my kids, “If you ever feel sick like they’re going to throw up, don’t walk but RUN out of my classroom.  You will not get in trouble for running or leaving without permission.  RUN to the bathroom and then go straight to the nurse’s office.  If you want to take my trashcan with you, you may.  But remember- RUN.”  Such a sweet, sensitive teacher I was. :)  One time though, a kid took the trashcan and later came back to return it… sick!  I had to rephrase my ‘throw up speech’ the next year… “I don’t need the trashcan back- thanks.”  ha!  ANYWAY… back to MY child.  Riley Grace was just beyond pitiful last week.  She had blow out diapers and couldn’t keep anything down.  Her normal tiny self usually has a huge appetite and is soooo happy.  She just wanted me to hold her and cried and cried.  All the while… I still had a healthy, ENERGETIC daughter to take care of as well.  As I’d hold Riley and rock her, Reese would come over and try to sit in my lap, try to push her sister off, bring me books to read her, and fuss, fuss, fuss because SHE wanted Mommy to play with her.  How hard!!  I’m so thankful I had the opportunity to let her go play with my nephew at my sister’s house one day, so I could take care of Riley and bring her to the doctor.  And thankfully, Reese has stayed well.  I’m very surprised!  They tend to share everything!  So, ladies, HOW do you do it?!  When one’s sick and one isn’t- it’s so hard to meet both kids’ needs.  Don’t you think?  I’m worn out just thinking about it.  The good news is: we all survived and are all well now.  YAY!  Have you experienced this too?

What Our Toddler Twins Are Teaching Me

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We often walk the fifty or so yards from our home to a small neighborhood park. It is a trip we’ve taken hundreds of times and hundreds ever since the kids could barely walk. Oh, maybe we’d take a push cart or wagon when they were new walkers and the distance to the end of our driveway was enough to wear them out. But nine times out of ten, we walk.

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Matou and the twins, 13 1/2 months.

We follow the kids’ lead where we might put our fingers in that crack in the concrete where the earth has settled, feel the softness of the bark a dying tree, behead an earthworm, touch the wheels of a parked fire truck, feel the bumpiness of rocks or the stickiness of a pine cone, chasing the black birds in the grassy lot across from the church, bark back at the dog in the neighbor’s window, peek around for lizards that have scampered into the ground cover. Sometimes, it might take forty minutes just to get to the park.

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18 months.

Sometimes? Sometimes, we don’t get there at all.

So you can imagine that after five straight days of raining, we were all ready to get out of the house, even if there was standing water everywhere, an event that caused my partner and mother to want to keep the kids’ feet planted firmly on sidewalk.

But it was me, the Classic Type A Personality, the ENFJ, that announced to my mom and partner, “let them splash!, so what? We have a perfectly functioning washing machine just inside the house.”

(Granted, I had Type A motivations: sensory experiences and neural pathways and the hopes that it would help get them tired before dinner and bed. But, more importantly,) they loved the mystery of it all – the sound of a splash, how the water sleeps and then thrashes when stepped upon, the coolness of the water between the fingers, the heaviness of wet clothes, the changing color from clear to brown, the grittiness of mud.

And as one moment in a collection of moments, we remembered: we remembered being kids, we remembered uninhibited play, the encouragement to try something new, and the security of knowing that our parents would make us warm and dry again.

So today, I am thankful for the unintended consequence of my twins – that I’ve become more patient, more forgiving, that they’ve reminded me to be a kid, allowing me the freedom to be struck by awe and wonder at the simplest things around me.

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Rachel is the birth mom of a two-working-mom household to 21 month old boy/girl twins that can now open the gate at the bottom of the stairs. This is a problem. She blogs over at Motherhood.Squared

My boys say goodbye to their comfort objects

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Just before Christmas, my boys had their dentist appointment. Their teeth looked great (despite our lackluster brushing schedule), but the dentist had one concern.

“How’s it going getting rid of the pacifiers?” he asked P.

A look of panic flashed across P’s face, and he turned away from the dentist.

He tried again. “Are you guys gonna give them to Santa this year?”

I seized the opportunity and asked follow-up questions about Santa’s policy on pacifier surrender. The boys were unimpressed, and hid their faces in my coat. As I gathered our mounds of paperwork and prepared to leave, P motioned me down to his level.

“I think I do want to give my babas to Santa,” he said. Then his giant blue eyes filled with tears and he wept silently as we paid and walked to the car.

In the minivan, G tearfully said that he, too, would give up his babas at Christmas, in return for an extra present from Santa. Then he burst into tears, accompanied by loud heart-wrenching sobs that continued about 20 minutes.

My boys are 5. You can find a full apology for their continued baba use here, but the shortened version is this:

“I don’t believe it will hurt his teeth, really. But even more than that, I know there are looming in his not-so-distant future so many goodbyes he won’t be able to put off. He sleeps tonight as he did before birth, curled against his brother, the two of them partners in a relationship beyond my understanding. There is no sparing him heartache, as these two will have to part eventually for their future lives to begin.”

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In the weeks before Christmas, G wavered in his resolve but P stood firm. On the 23rd G tried to organize a coup but P was having none of it.

On Christmas Eve, with little fanfare, we tied the boys’ babas with twine and they hung them alongside their stockings. A few tears were shed at bedtime, but Jason and I held their hands and cuddled them, and they drifted off to sleep. In return for their trouble, Santa brought them shields sent by Captain America himself.
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The next few nights were more difficult, but overall the transition was very easy. Once they volunteered to surrender their beloved pacifiers, I knew they were ready despite the tears and misgivings. And so far, neither has started sucking his thumb (as their sister did when we took away her pacifier at age 3).

This past weekend we took an overnight trip to an indoor water park; a thank you/congratulations gift from us to the boys, in recognition of a major milestone. Not just that they’re finished with pacifiers, but that they gave them up willingly, on their own timetable, even though it was painful and scary. I’m so proud of them.

Jen is the married work-from-home mother of 7-year-old Miss A, 5-year-old boys G and P, and 3-year-old Haney Jane. She also blogs at Diagnosis: Urine.

Smoothie Addicts

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My children have a problem. An addiction. Something they ask for morning, noon, and night. (Even more than they ask for TV.)

My kids are smoothie addicts.

Smoothie Addicts

It’s all my mom’s fault. She’s the one who introduced the smoothie into our lives. And indulged the kids’ every-morning request when we stayed at her house for the holidays (and last summer, and the winter before that).

Smoothie Addicts

Truth be told, it’s probably my very favorite toddler addiction.  To them: majorly awesome frozen sweet treat.  To me: fruit and calcium.  And it couldn’t be any easier.

The specifics, as we make them at my house, in case you’ve never made a smoothie yourself:

  • 4 (ish) strawberries, fresh or frozen
  • 1/4 cup (ish) frozen blueberries
  • 1 ripe banana
  • 1/3 cup (ish) yogurt, any flavor or plain
  • 1/3 cup (ish) milk

Clearly, you can see I’m not scientific about this, I just dump stuff in the blender.  If I’m using fresh strawberries, I’ll often throw in a couple of ice cubes to keep things nice and cold.  Switch it up and throw different kinds of fruit (fresh or frozen) in there. Or, as we did at my mother-in-law’s house when I was improvising, a little scoop of mango ice cream.  You can’t go wrong, and aside from the occasional ice cream, you can’t argue with its nutritional value.

So, as long as my blender pitcher is dishwasher-safe, my kids can have a smoothie any day of the week.

P.S.  If grandpa is there when you’re making smoothies one day, and tells the kids to “hold their ears” because it’s loud, your son may do this every time you make one:

Smoothie Addicts

Everyone's an Expert

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I’m the kind of person who likes to do the right thing. If the sign says, “No Passing” you can bet your bottom dollar that I’ll continue following that car that’s going 2 mph even though there’s not another car for miles to come. That’s just who I am. Not sure if I was born that way, or if it was something I learned along the way, but I’m a big stickler for following the rules.

But it was that particular part of my personality that made parenting so challenging for me in the beginning. The hospital doesn’t send you home with a manual explaining the right way to bring up your children. And my head was spinning with all the conflicting advice I was getting from doctors, nurses, lactation consultants, and pediatricians, not to mention my mother-in-law. I mean, how could the pediatric nurse practitioner advise something totally different than what the pediatrician had? They work in the same building, and it the same practice! Shouldn’t they be on the same page? It was literally driving me to tears (with the help of my crazy hormones, I suspect). I just wanted to hear that this was how you do it, so I could go home and do it that way and feel satisfied that what I was doing was the right thing.

And then one day, I went to a new mothers’ group and heard those simple words that changed my whole outlook on parenting. The facilitator said, “Every mother is different, and every baby is different. What works for some moms and their babies doesn’t work for other moms and their babies.” And although what she said was so simple, it was so freeing for me, because it somehow made it okay for me to try out different techniques to teach my babies to nurse, to get them to fall asleep, to calm them when they were screaming their heads off. Because the recommendations from a particular “expert” might work for some moms and some babies, but they it might not work for us. (And even what works for one twin does not necessarily work for the other.) As parents, we know our children best and have to learn to listen to the expert within us to guide us as we make important parenting decisions.

Which leads me to present day. Several family members have told me that my daughter appears to be ready for potty training. My son, clearly, is not. They have just turned 22 months old, and although I hadn’t planned to even think about potty training until my guys were about 2 ½, I happen to believe that it is possible my daughter just might be ready to give it a try. She does show some signs of readiness (thanks for the link, Sadia), and I actually feel like I’m ready to take this on.

The experts certainly have a lot to say about potty training- when a child should be ready and how persistent or relaxed the approach should be- but I know it’s okay if I don’t agree with all the wisdom they have to share. I’ll start by following the advice that seems to fit best with my own philosophies, but in the end it’s going to be all about what works for us- trying things out, adjusting the game plan, even going back to the drawing board if necessary.

And while I had hoped (perhaps expected) that my twins would potty train at the same time, my gut tells me that it’s okay to give it a try with just one. Perhaps my son will surprise me (we do have training pant for him just in case), or maybe I’ll learn that really neither one of them is ready quite yet. We’ll just have to wait and see.

So how do you navigate through the sea of parenting experts? Are there experts you swear by? Or do you like to chart your own course as you go? (Any potty training tips would be greatly appreciated as well.)

You can read more from reanbean at reanbean.com.

Playing & Learning

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I am a SAHM to my twins and LOVE that I am able to be!  I really enjoy it, but of course, there are those moments when I want to run for the hills. :)  My 16 monthers have recently learned how FUN it is to ‘push each other’s buttons.’  Okay- now I’m taking that too literally here, but- funny story:  Riley has had a belly button hernia since she was a few weeks old.  It’s much better now, but her belly button still sticks out… more than an outie would.  Reese has recently noticed this.  EVERY time I change Riley’s diaper, Reese runs over yelling “BALL!” and bends down and tries to pick up Riley’s belly button!  It is the funniest thing in the world, but not to Riley- she thinks Reese is tickling her, so she laughs and screams at the same time.  They are a mess!  ANYWAY, they love to GO.  Love getting out and about and also playing at home– not still too often.  I’ve noticed lately that they need a distraction from ‘pushing each other’s buttons…’ maybe it has something to do with the CrAzY cold weather we’ve had here in Texas.  (I’m ready for Spring!)

As a former elementary school teacher, this isn’t surprising, but I came across this GREAT website I wanted to pass along!  The curriculum/lessons start very young and go through preschool.  It’s very simple for my girls age (16 months), but it’s a guide with a great book to read, a game to play (pretend), arts and crafts (for older), etc.  It’s SO FUN!  The teacher in me is BEAMING.  Hope you and your kids think it’s fun too!

Amy is a SAHM to 16 month old twin girls, Reese and Riley.  Read more about our adventures here.

Adjusting bedtime routines

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As my husband and I were wrangling our girls into their cribs tonight, I started thinking about how our bedtime routine has evolved over the past year and a half.  The evolution is due in part to their age but always because there are three of them. 

When the girls were about 15 months old, we added reading books in their room to the routine.  I would sit in the glider chair in their bedroom with all three and read a few books.  It’s not that we didn’t normally read to them, just that they didn’t seem to have the attention span prior to that age for me to read to all three at once.  It was at about this age that delay tactics made an appearance and those have continued and evolved as well.   

Image and video hosting by TinyPic 

Before the girls’ second birthday, they outgrew (literally not figuratively) the glider chair so we decided to have them sit on little stools in front of the chair while I read to them.  That didn’t work out so well as (mostly) Anna liked to jump up and touch every page in the book while adding some commentary which made getting through a book a very long task.  We transitioned to having them sit in their cribs while I sat on the floor (in a spot where they could all see) and read.  A few months ago, we decided that they were ”mature” enough to sit in little chairs while I sat in the floor in front of them.  This routine worked out well but within the past few weeks, we noticed that the girls have been too hyper at night to sit and concentrate on a book so we have transitioned once again.  They now each look through a book while they spend some alone time with Mommy in the glider. 

My husband and I have discussed what bedtime routines are like with singletons.  I suppose a parent would sit be able to sit in a chair or on the side of a bed with one child in order to read books to that child.  And that older children wouldn’t require both Mommy and Daddy at bedtime, freeing up a parent.  I’m assuming that it is a lot different from our bedtime.

Oh, I should have mentioned that part of our bedtime routine has always involved me rocking/cuddling in the glider with each of the girls for about five minutes alone.  They really seem to enjoy this special time partly because there is no competition.  Each has to wait her turn.  Although, for the longest time I did try to rotate the order of who went first, second and third.  Every night, Emily would tell me that it was her turn to go first.  So I guess there was a bit of competition but for the most part, their special time was uninterrupted.

Delay tactics have also evolved.  There have always been the pleas for more water and now that we are potty training, someone always declares that she has to go on the potty at the last minute.  At that broadcast, the other two announce that they have to go as well.  We have been giving in because 90% of the time, someone goes and we are in the early stages of potty training.

Our next transition will be to separate rooms and toddler beds.  Yikes!!! 

Any tips to moving to toddler beds?  How have your bedtime routines changed and do you feel that having multiples played a role in those changes? 

Sarah is the mother to ”almost” three year old identical triplet girls – Allie, Anna and Emily – who were born at 35 weeks and 6 days.   You can read more about her crazy life raising triplets at The Great Umbrella Heist.

Thank God for Messy Faces

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On those days when you don’t have enough eyes to watch all your children or enough arms to keep them all out of trouble.  When you are too tired or distracted or busy to be giving everyone all the attention they need….

When you have a 3 year old who decides he doesn’t like cheese, which he usually loves.  When he decides he has to throw his cheese and the rest of his lunch in the garbage. When you decide that he needs a time out to think about this.  When you decide that he really needs to spend a few minutes in his room. When he’s practically hysterical, all because of the cheese you served him for lunch. When you’re busy comforting him and trying to figure out why cheese is suddenly so unpopular. When you realize you’ve been upstairs dealing with this crisis while your 11-month old twins are all alone downstairs in the kitchen.  When you realize how long you’ve left them unsupervised.  When you start to get worried about what you’ll find when you get back to them.  When you arrive to see this…

Helping myself Feeding myself

Or when your talking on the phone with the real estate agent.  When you’re trying to figure out the details of offers to buy and mortgages. When you turn away for a minute to write something down.  When you finally put down the phone. When you suddenly notice it has gotten very quiet.  When you look up to see this…

Vaccuming

… and nothing worse. You have to laugh and thank god for messy faces because obviously someone is looking out for you and your children.