I’ve mentioned it before, but when my kids were about five weeks old, we started a new mom class. It was at an awesome local maternity/child center, and a perfect baby-safe first outing. There were nine of us new moms. I was the only one with twins, which I’m actually grateful for. (They have since added a twin-specific new mom group, but I’m glad I took the “normal” one. I had enough twin mom friends, it’s nice to know other people, too!) We all showed up that morning, I seem to remember it was an early class, like 9:30 in the morning. Everyone was frazzled, but I think we were all thrilled that there were little seats set up on the floor for us, a Boppy for everyone, plenty of space for carseats, no worries about boobs left and right. I think the entire first class was spent with us all going “oh, your baby does that, too!” It was such a relief.

Our teacher, Carole, was the greatest. A registered nurse and lactation consultant, plus just the nicest manner and greatest group facilitating you could hope for. As the first class wound down, she told us, matter-of-factly, that we should all go out for lunch together. Right now. We all just kind of looked at each other, shrugged, and did exactly that. We did lunch after class every week for the six weeks of the class. It was great! She also told us to try to get together mid-week, and we sometimes managed that, too. It was a perfect kick-start that you need when you’re clueless and sleep-deprived.

One of the things that I marveled over the most was the dynamic of our class. Of the nine moms, the only thing we all had in common was state of residence and the birthdays of our firstborns. Different ages, different backgrounds, different professions. And yet, we all got along really well. We didn’t even have the ubiquitous “annoying person” that tends to mess up group dynamics. (Unless… crap… unless that obnoxious person is me. Um, if it is, sorry guys…) We were a totally random set of people thrown together, and it just plain worked.

And continues to work. We’ve tried to get together periodically for brunches, though I’ve missed the last few due to a strange illness curse that strikes just when we’re about to do something fun. I worried it would happen this weekend, too, but with only a very slightly runny nose on Rebecca, I decided we were a go.

7 of the 9 moms made it, and the only two who didn’t either had family in town or a tiny newborn.

We had such a blast, you’d think we got together every week. Pot-luck brunch seems to always go well. Nice time of day for the kids, plenty of kid-friendly food. The kids played, the dads pulled them around in wagons, and we even shut the door and had a mommy check-in for the first time in ages.

We marveled at the fact that our once-tiny-newborns are now about to turn two. Since our class, the group now has two more babies, and I suspect there may be a few more in the next little while (no, not me!).

And, yes, we bribed them with donuts just to try and get a group shot. With marginal success. Better luck next time.

So, a huge thanks to K/C/C for hosting, and a big hug and kiss to all of the moms. Can’t wait for a group second birthday party. I’ll make cupcakes.

Krissy has set us all with an impossible task today: pick your top 5 pictures of your kids from their first year. In the case of multiples, the top 5 of each kid solo, plus your top 5 of them together.

This is madness. I took well over 4,000 pictures in their first year of life (and my pace has only increased, so if she sets this challenge again about the 2nd year, I am screwed). Picking even 15 from those is ridiculous. So, I’m not sure if this is really my top 5, or just “some of the best.” In fact, for the sake of not going insane over this task, I’m going to choose my favorite by season (one each from Fall thru Summer), plus a newborn picture. Because I said so. And because otherwise this will take me all day and I’ll share approximately 300 shots.

Anyways, here you go.

First up, my Baby A, my Big D, my Señor Fussy-Pants: Daniel.

The photo we used for his birth announcement, approximately 10 days old.

Two months old, at our first mom/baby class, having some tummy time.

Six months old and digging sweet potatoes.

Daniel and the tickle-monster, eight months old.

11 months and loving the kiddie pool.

Alright. I’m just going to stop there for Daniel. I’m not going to keep looking at the million other great ones. I swear.

On to Baby B, the Nugget, Miss Becca Bean.

Rebecca’s birth announcement picture, 10 days old.

The swaddle model, nearly 4 months old.

7 months old, getting a kick out of the shared bathtub on the kitchen table.

Nearly 9 months old, the new crawler tests her skills.

11.5 months old, Rebecca enjoys a graham cracker in the shade at the lake house.

And the pair of ‘em. Two totally different kids, but always linked.

An early favorite: one week old, leaving the hospital.

Out for a stroll, 3 1/2 months old.

Their 8-month chair pictures were probably my all-time favorites.

Almost 10 months old, and playing outside was such a hit!

One year old!

And just one more as a bonus. A very, very special place in my heart for the polaroid that was my very first picture with both kids. Three days old.

I love this feature of Cheryl’s, over at Twinfatuation.  But as I’ve been blogging since before my kids were born, I sometimes feel like I don’t have much “way back” to share that hasn’t been covered.

But, lo and behold, I went looking in my iPhoto library for pics from a year ago.  Of course, all of the photos are so familiar to me, but much to my surprise, I realized I’d never shared these!  I think I just didn’t post pictures quite as frequently last year…

So, without further ado, here are my kiddos.  Almost exactly one year ago, today.

Daniel, as he could usually be found at that age (almost 7 months old), was hanging out in the exersaucer and chewing on the various animals attached to it.  With a bit of the ever-present spitup, just for good measure.  It’s so funny to me how much he looks the same.  Just an older, slightly less pudgy version of that very same baby.

Then there’s Rebecca.  Blue eyes not yet gone the sort of hazel that they are now.  Not much hair to speak of.  Just hanging out with Daddy.  Her look seems to change more, for me.  Maybe it’s just the degree to which hair can change your appearance, but I feel like her face did a lot more changing over a longer period of time.

The second in an occasional series: whether to have more kids after multiples. [Part 1]

At last count, I know at least ten people who are currently pregnant.  That doesn’t include my two cousins who just delivered.  It doesn’t include the 4-6 moms in our various classes right now, who I don’t know very well.  Ten.  Two due in March, one in June, five in July, and two in the fall.  Only a few are first babies, many are new siblings.  Some are even the very subject of my wonder: a singleton after twins.  With all of this progesterone in my world, it’s impossible not to think about whether to have more kids.

I’m finding a traditional pros vs. cons list quite unhelpful in this situation.  The pros are impossible to articulate. Fuzzy and ethereal, theoretical at best.  Nothing concrete.  The cons, on the other hand, are numerous and specific. Daunting. Convincing.

So, in no particular order, here are some darn good reasons not to have any more kids.  Or, at least, things that M or I worry about.

• Holy crap, do I really want to do this stuff all over again? I already survived the newborn days, sleep training, etc etc etc.  Why would I go back and go through it again if I don’t have to?
• I hated being pregnant. No, seriously. Did not like it one bit. Was uncomfortable for 8 months. Couldn’t sleep. Cankles and hobbit feet. High blood pressure. Stretch marks. Carpal tunnel. And the peeing.  Oh my god the peeing.  And that’s just the parts I remember.
• What would the relationship dynamics be like between the older twins and younger singleton? Would the singleton feel left out for not having a twin? Isolated?  And M’s big one: he already feels like our kids got a bit short-changed on attention for being two-at-once. He thinks that adding another isn’t fair to them or to the new kid. [I don't entirely agree with this one, but still... it's out there]
• Pregnancy weight gain.  I’m still really struggling with the weight I put on with these guys (not to mention all the weight I had put on before I got pregnant). Doing it again is terrifying.
• I fear for my sanity.  I love being a SAHM, but a lot of the time I’m just one enormous stress-case (whether or not I display it on my blog).  And while I think M is a wonderful husband and dad, having kids has put a lot of stress on our relationship.  Do I really want to add more? Her Bad Mother put into words a lot of what I was thinking…
• If I think travel is incredibly expensive and stressful now…
• Honestly, I feel like adding another kid makes moving to Chicago an absolute necessity.  I’m not sure I can (or want to) do more without family around.
• Did I mention I’m a proven double-dropper? My duo were of the unassisted variety: spontaneous fraternal twins. There’s a not-insignificant possibility of having a second set. Hoo boy.
• We always talked about having two kids. It’s a nice number.  Two parents. Two hands. Not an only child, but you can stick with the man-to-man defense. Plus, we even got the nice, neat set of one boy and one girl. Why mess with such lovely symmetry?

Each of these concerns is not equal in my mind.  Some weigh more heavily than others, and I think the added stress in my life in general and on my marriage in particular is probably up at the very top of the list.

A couple of things that, for whatever reason, I do not worry about:

• Getting pregnant.  Sure, I could be proven wrong.  But getting pregnant was thankfully not really a problem for me, and I’m still only 30 years old. (Of course, staying pregnant was trickier, but still…) Hopefully that part would be alright.
• Finances.  I know, I really should be worried about finances. Kids are really frigging expensive.  But somehow that doesn’t strike fear into my heart. We live well within our means, we aren’t big spenders, we have no debt, we have college accounts started… and basically, things seem to work out just fine. Realistic or not, that just isn’t something that is keeping me up at night.
• Logistical stuff: we wouldn’t need a bigger house or a bigger car.  Our house is OK the way it is, no immediate need to seek new living arrangements (aside from wanting to move to Chicago, but that’s for different reasons). We already have a minivan. We could “fit” another kid.

But what do you guys think?  Parents with more kids, are some of these non-issues that I’m just creating in my own mind?  Parents who stuck with two, were any one or two of these enough to make the decision against having more kids for your family?  What are some other reasons not to do this?

And, yes, I’ll be back with the other side of the argument.  Don’t you worry.

Following is copied and pasted directly from an email to a MOT friend of mine. She has been asking me sleep advice, and wants to do CIO with her nearly-6-month-olds but doesn’t have the time to read Ferber (you all know how I feel… read the book!).  I’m no guru, but I’m opinionated.  So, here’s my epic email to her (verbatim, just with added links), with my mish-mash, cliff’s-notes version of Weissbluth and Ferber.  All in what we deemed her “sleep plan.”  Maybe it’ll be useful for someone else out there in the blogosphere.

[Cross-posted at How Do You Do It?]

— — —

Alright, this might be the longest email I’ve ever written.  Sorry.  I just felt like I had to explain things.  Let me know if you have any questions.  And let me just say: this is what worked for me and my kids.  I’m no expert, I’m no doctor. Not all kids are the same, and there’s no one perfect solution that will have your kids sleeping until 8AM every day for the rest of their lives. (ha!) But, overall, this is what worked really well for us.

6:30am (or later, yeah right!): wake up
8:30-9:00: go down for morning nap, depending on how tired they seem or how early they woke up
12noon-1:30pm: go down for mid-day nap, depending on how late AM nap went
3:30-4:30pm: go down for late-afternoon nap, again depending on how mid-day nap went
6:30-7:00pm: start bedtime routine
7:00-7:30pm: lights out

Here’s my philosophy: well-rested kids with a predictable routine are going to sleep better (good sleep begets good sleep), wake up happier, and be generally easier and more receptive to their world than those who are over-tired or unpredictable.  Since that is my starting philosophy, I pretty much think that 95-99% of days should revolve around their sleep schedule.  Yes, sometimes you can play with it. But you won’t know how and when to take that risk until they’ve settled into it. So my advice is to stick like krazy glue to a schedule for at least a week or two and see how it goes before you try fudging things around. It can feel restrictive at first, and some people give you grief for it. But, honestly, I eventually found it sort of freeing, because I knew ahead of time what were good and bad times of day for my kids (more or less) and could plan accordingly.  If you don’t know when your kid is going to nap, how can you know whether or not to sign up for that 3pm class? And it does mean you need to be careful with outings, because you don’t want them falling asleep in the car when you’re on the way home for their nap, and things like that.  Not always super flexible, but it pays off.  And yes, I always did the same thing for both kids at the same time.  One may wake up earlier than the other, but I always put them down at the same time.

Now, for details…

(more…)

I am blatantly stealing this idea from Little Bites of Heaven, who in turn borrowed it from Be Different… Act Normal.  Incredible how much difference a year makes.  It was incredibly hard to narrow it down to 12 pictures.  In fact, the best I could do was 60+, and even that was hard.  But if you want to see a bit more of 2008 in our world, I put together a Flickr photoset for the occasion (see left sidebar).  Anyways, without further ado, a brief look back at the year that was, with links to each month’s archives…

January 2008

February 2008

March 2008

April 2008

May 2008

June 2008

July 2008

August 2008

September 2008

October 2008

November 2008

December 2008

Amazing, isn’t it?  From little babies who couldn’t even sit up, to walking and talking toddlers.  Can’t wait to see what 2009 brings…

I have to say, I adore all of the questions you guys asked, and I’m going to have a ton of fun going through and answering them.  Some of them are very… heavy isn’t the right word, but certainly thoughtful.  But it’s a Friday, so I’m going to start a little bit light with questions from Emily about funny twin-specific habits:

Do you have a certain side that you usually carry each kid on (ie Daniel on the left)?

Do you have a order in which you load/unload the kids from the car?

Do you have a side that you always put them on in the grocery cart?

Do you have any other habits or routines like that that you have never realized?

Yes, I do have a number of things like that.  And though it certainly is made more obvious by the fact that I have twins, it’s also the kind of thing that I do in lots of situations.  I’m maybe non-pathologically OCD in that sense.  Truly, I’m really laid back about a lot of things.  And yet on little things that probably don’t matter much, I have a thing for consistency and “order.”  (We’re not going to discuss the days of alphabetizing CDs or the internal consistency of my iTunes Library…) Anyways, here’s a few ways in which that has manifested itself with the kids:

Despite having two identical (and gender-neutral) infant carseats, I marked them with each kid’s initials and would always put them in their own seat.  I told myself it was because of adjusting the straps and them being different sizes.  But I always loosened the straps when taking them out, and tightened them when putting them in, so it really didn’t matter.  But I did it anyways.  They each had their own seat.

I also very nearly always put them on the same side of the car (even with two identical carseats that had identical bases).  Daniel on the driver’s side, Rebecca on the passenger side.  And in the Snap & Go, Daniel went in first, closest to the handle (my logic being that he was heavier and would be more likely to tip the stroller if he was farther out toward the end… as though that was even remotely likely to happen).  That is still the case nowadays in the more permanently-affixed convertible carseats.

In the stroller, I nearly always put Rebecca on the right (R on R), and Daniel on the left.  No idea why.  I’m aware that I’m doing it – it’s not completely unconscious.  And sometimes I don’t do it.  But usually I do.  I have a thing for routine, I suppose?

Otherwise, I always put them in the same high chairs, I never switch cribs, and when M and I are out doing something together and each take primary care of one kid, I almost always pair up with Daniel while M takes Rebecca.  It goes way back to their newborn days, and I guess now it’s just habit.  Sometimes we switch it up, but mostly it divides that way.

I wonder if some semi-conscious part of it is that I don’t want the kids to have to share everything.  As though I want them to have some small degree of ownership of different things, and that it doesn’t all have to be one-size-fits-all communal property.  Since they’re very often lumped together as a unit, I might be trying to inject some minor amount of separateness.  Who knows.

What about the other twin moms out there?  Any weird habits like me?  Or do you just shake things up on a day-to-day basis in a way that would give me a minor anxiety attack?

In my spare moments when the kids are sleeping, I’m plodding my way through the bins of baby clothes and tagging them for my twin club’s fall sale.  It’s hideously tedious work. Pick up an item, write my name, a description, the size, and a price on the tag… twice.  Cap the marker so I don’t stain my guest bed’s comforter, jab the super-sharp tagging gun into the cloth.  Fold and put in appropriate bin.  REPEAT.  AGAIN. AND AGAIN.  I’ve got two diaper boxes and one big rubbermaid container filled already, it has to be at least 100 individual items so far.

And I still need to go through the preemie-to-3-month box, and then do a sweep through the drawers and closets for the stragglers.  And even that hasn’t started on the larger items like one of the carseats, a Baby Bjorn, two exersaucers, and various assorted other baby stuff around the house.  It’s a little overwhelming, and I’m glad there’s still two more weeks until the sale.

It feels a little gluttonous, sorting through all of these clothes.  The sheer volume is amazing, and it’s sad, bordering on embarrasing, how many things were never worn at all, or only worn once.  So many were gifts from even before the kids were born, and the sizes and seasons just ended up being wrong (tricky to estimate correctly, since Rebecca is always a size “behind”).  But I’m pricing them pretty cheap (most shirts and pants are $1.00), and I hope some other family can get good use out of them.  I’m not exactly going into the sale with the hopes of bringing home big bucks.  I don’t feel the universe owes me some refund when I’m done with the clothes that we bought.  But hey, if I can make a few dollars here and there, why not? It can go towards this year’s fall/winter wardrobe, right?

I’ve come across a few items that have made me a little bit sentimental, but I may yet still stick a tag on ‘em and sell them.  They’re cute, I remember the kids wearing them, but why would I keep them?  We’ll see.  I’ll go through the boxes again before the sale just in case there’s some I want to keep at the last minute.

This morning was our 12-month well-baby appointment.  Thankfully, M was able to come with me, since it involved two shots and a finger stick (plus, you know, two wriggly babies missing their morning nap).  Both are doing well, though neither gained as much weight as I might have guessed (both were up about a pound and a half in 3 months).  Daniel was 21lb14oz and 29.25″ long, which is about 45th percentile for both.  Rebecca was 17lb10oz and 28.5″ long, which is around the 4th or 5th percentile for weight and the 28th for length.  They were otherwise pronounced A-OK by our beloved pediatrician.

Though neither of them are big babies, it’s still amazing to me how much they’ve grown in a year.

Daniel, impossibly small (and we thought he was so big, compared to Rebecca), at one week old.

Daniel gained 15 pounds, twelve ounces, since his birth weight, and grew 11-12 inches in length.  He has eight teeth, can almost stand on his own, walks with help, “talks” constantly (just not in English), and waves at everyone (or, possibly, is making the sign for “light”, it’s a little unclear).

My big boy, on the day before his first birthday.

He loves strawberries and blueberries and bananas and waffles and cheese and tortellini with pesto.  He’ll at least try almost anything, though he’s getting into the unfortunate habit of purposefully dropping stuff over the side of his high chair.  He loves to ride on the red and blue car we got from Snick, or even laugh when he sees his sister get a ride.  He laughs at everyone. People who see him ask me, “is he always this smiley?” Not really, but he puts on a good show! He does not especially like to go down for naps, but sleeps very well overnight and sucks on the corner of the blanket his grandmother made for him.  He loves to shake toys, and insists the dog lick him right in the face.  Though he can still be fussy and whiny at times, he really is just my sweet, sweet boy.

Rebecca gained thirteen pounds, two ounces in the first year,

Teeny tiny Rebecca, 10 days old

nearly quadrupuling her birthweight, and also grew 11-12 inches.  She has six teeth, the four top all sprouted in the last month.  She is trying hard to stand up without even pulling on something, and is very purposeful in her direction when walking with assistance.  She will turn you to wherever she wants to go.  While pretty independent and even-tempered, she has started to throw honest-to-goodness kicking-and-screaming temper tantrums.  Usually if she wants to walk but you aren’t fast enough to get off the couch and help her.  She chit-chats and shrieks a lot, and I officially deem her first word to be “cracker.”  She even did it spontaneously at the doctor’s office this morning when she saw the snack cup in my purse.  She eats like a bird much of the time, and is wary of new flavors and textures.  She does seem to enjoy my new “Chicken a la Mommy,” though (cut up leftover chicken thrown in the microwave with cheese – my kids are the anti-Kosher).  While at home she can be a total ham and very silly and smiley, she’s not as quick to smile for strangers.  The best word for her, we’ve decided, is “scamp.”  She’s a little scamp.

Rebecca at one year, hanging on the couch with the dog (having stolen her toy, of course).

Or imp, if you prefer.  She’s a much better sleeper than back in the 45-minute-nap days, but still wakes up and cries for a few seconds or a minute or two in the middle of the night.  Can’t tell why, but I’m experimenting with leaving a nightlight on in their very dark room.  When playing, she likes to push things around the room on her knees (diaper surfing was popular while on vacation), and loves nothing more than chasing the dog, stealing her toys, and then offering the toys back to the dog.  She is a very funny girl.  Quite the comedienne.

It really is amazing how much has changed in the last year.  I don’t really stop and think about it that much, or wax poetic about how my life has changed.  Despite this whole blogging thing, that’s not exactly my style.  That was always the case, I suppose, but being a mom of two babies has made me even more pragmatic.  I just roll with things and deal with them, and plan as best I can.

Wait, did I say babies?  Well, they aren’t really babies anymore, are they?  Yikes!  Toddlers!  Sure, they aren’t walking yet, but they sure don’t seem like little infants anymore, either.  Amazing, these two little people who used to just be mouths screaming for more formula.  Though it obviously hasn’t happened overnight, I do think that the one-year point marks a notable shift in parenting, too.  The first year, though there are enormous changes in all areas of development, feels like it has largely been about “taking care” of them.  Making sure they eat and sleep and have clean diapers.  Certainly it’s more fun than just that, but a lot of the things they learn in the first year are so basically fundamental that you don’t sit and say “I’m going to teach you to trust today!”  “Let’s spend an hour working on rolling over!”  There are exceptions, of course, but a lot of these things just seem to happen.

Not so much anymore.  Now it’s time to really teach them things.  Like not throwing food off the high chair, for one. But things like words and walking and counting and games and jokes and rules.  We’ve made it through a lot of the fundamentals (eating, sitting, crawling), now it’s on to bigger and better.

Buckle your seatbelts.  I have a feeling it’s about to get exciting (and scary!).

I swear, this is the last trip recap you’ll hear!  I know, it’s fascinating…. but I wanted to record it for posterity before I completely forget and there’s a million other things to write about.

Anyways, the final weekend of the big trip to the Midwest involved a two-hour drive to sorta-Central Illinois for my dad’s family reunion.  It has happened every year for the last 30+ years, and it only gets bigger.  This year, for instance, there were four kids under 18 months, and that doesn’t even count my new niece, who was not in attendance.  And two of my cousins are pregnant, so there’s a few more for next year.  I believe my cousin Jenny’s five-month-old daughter was the one who put it over the edge, so that generation (my kids’) now outnumbers my own in our family.

The kids did great on the drive. We left at afternoon nap time, and they slept pretty much the entire drive. Yay!  Got there and it was people galore, jumping in the pool, little kids running everywhere, firing up the big grill for dinner. The bugs at night were awful, but because the baby monitor didn’t reach far enough to go hang out with everyone else, M and I were totally lame and went to bed super early.  My aunts and uncles were apparently looking for more wine by 11:30pm…

Daniel (far left) chats it up with three of his 2nd cousins (including the only other set of twins in the family, who are almost exactly two years older than mine).

Rebecca is just glad Daddy has joined us. It was a long 10 days away from him.

Saturday morning of reunion weekend is all about games, especially for the kids.  I remember growing up playing Bozo buckets and all variety of things.  This year, the “theme” of the reunion was baseball, and each family group (i.e. my dad and his siblings) was supposed to come up with a game.  They often involve throwing things at someone, or general mess and/or embarrassment.  Good times!  The rest of the day is pretty much a blur of chlorine, cheap beer, Red Vines vs. Twizzlers, and just hanging out with cousins.  The nighttime entertainment is the “Talent(less) Show,” which is mostly a chance for the little kids to get up and do somersaults and sing songs, and for the adults to cheer wildly.  It was after D&R’s bedtime… maybe next year.

The kids rock their White Sox outfits. (Notice the completed quilts they're sitting on?!)

The games: because really, how often do you get to throw stuff at your father-in-law's head?

There are enough people in the family that we've developed an elaborate numbering system so you know how everyone is related. Then we printed them on shirts, just for kicks. Daniel is 5.1.1 (first child of the first child of the 5th child).

Rebecca likes her snacks spicy.

They both liked getting in and out of the pool.

Sunday started with a threat of rain, but nothing could put a damper on the day: it was Daniel & Rebecca’s first birthday!  And so many family members to celebrate with. We got a cake to share with everyone, and made a big old mess before it was time to pack the car and head back to my dad’s house before going to the airport and finally going home after our long trip.  Sadly, our flight was delayed by about an hour, and we didn’t get all the way home until nearly midnight.  But with only minor exceptions, both kids proved stellar travelers, and I count the whole shebang as a big success.

Birthday breakfast, outside but covered in case of rain.

Daddy and his birthday babies!

Not real sure about this wrapping paper thing...

Aww yeah, the messy cake picture. Rebecca went to town and rubbed it in her hair. Daniel was surprisingly more cautious.