Archive for the ‘Twins’ Category
Snapshot, 7:34 am
Andy is wide awake, talking to himself. Or maybe to his brother, who is still fast asleep next to him. Or perhaps he’s trying to make contact with the mysterious creatures that dance in a circle hanging over him. Either way, he’s happy. I released him from the confines of the Miracle Blanket, so his little arms are dangerously close to going through the slats in the crib. He lost a sock at some point in the night; it’s tangled up in the blanket somewhere. His coos sound like hoots sometimes, so much so that I think he might be part owl.
They both have slid down the mattress. We elevated one end with a couple phone books in a desperate
attempt to help them breathe. Which has now turned the crib into a baby slide. And because of the crib experiment, I have yet to replace the bumpers, leading to the aforementioned limb escape problem.
Now Andy coughs, but luckily he doesn’t seem bothered by it. The froggy humidifier we bought has helped their poor little noses a lot. We still skipped out on PEPS (the mom/baby group we attend once a week) yesterday. I can’t imagine they are still contagious, but I know we new mothers are particularly protective and I would hate to make any one upset with me.
It sneaks closer and closer to breakfast time. Bottles must be made and heated. The couch must be arranged for two hungry little babes.
It Must Suck Being a Baby
Poor Will. He’s got a stuffy nose. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the constant use of the heater–which also explains why I get shocked every time I need to adjust a fuzzy blanket. It never occurred to me how uncomfortable a simple stuffy nose would be if you had no control over any part of your body. He can breathe if he’s on his side, with his head slightly elevated. See if you can picture what that looks like, and then guess if there’s any way to accomplish that without me holding him. Yeah, no.
Oh, I tried, bleary eyed, in the dark at 4:30 this morning. Rolled up a blanket and propped him up. The quiet lasted all of 3 minutes, just enough time to crawl back into bed. That’s a particular talent of these two: they seem to have a sixth sense for exactly how long it takes to get comfortable.
I’m pretty sure that’s what the definition of motherhood is: “never getting comfortable.”
Finally I gave up. The poor thing was tired–he wanted to be asleep, he just couldn’t breathe, so out to the couch we went, and now sit. I type this with a grunty little rhino on my lap, more or less peacefully asleep. Andy remains quiet in the crib, although he’ll be awake soon enough.
And I will be making a run to get a humidifier so maybe we can avoid the pre-dawn wake-up call tomorrow!