sarah's blog

My husband has a job that changes with the school year and that meant when the Fall semester came along it was time to let go of his work from home days and embrace a few days a week when I’ll do bedtimes on my own.

And by let go I mean pry it out of my white-knuckle grasp.

And by embrace I mean form a 3 cup a day coffee habit and figure out how to solo assembly line feed-bath-cloth-rock-put down two wriggling little squirmballs.

Some might say, just line up a helper for those nights. Ah yes, the helper. The journey to accepting help is a post completely unto itself as is the concept of trying to do bedtime with two babies and a person who they don’t know/hasn’t put them to bed before. Let’s just say that is not a simple answer and it does not solve everything, especially for me.

I remember the first time I had to put both babies down for the night by myself. They were still very young, maybe 4 months old I think? I should back up and preface this by saying I have a little bit of a problem with anxiety when it comes to things I don’t want to do/don’t think I can do/am pretty sure are going to end badly. As soon as I knew I would be on my own I felt that knot in my stomach begin to grow. I had no idea how I was going to get through the evening.

And it was a disaster. There was screaming and crying and throwing up. And the babies were pretty upset, too. HA.

The thing with twins is you just can’t explain to a tiny baby why they have to wait. They don’t know there’s another one that needs her diaper changed, or has to get a bath too, or can’t be left in the other room. From the day they were born there have been these delays between everything we do with one of them because we have to deal with the other and they just don’t know why they keep getting put on hold.

I long for the day when I can say “wait right here, I have to go get your sister” and it communicates the reason why they are being left alone. They still may not like it but at least I won’t always get the sense that they think I am abandoning them right when they need me.

So where was I… oh yes, the first bedtime on my own was terrible. Made only slightly less so by the fact that we had a very consistent bedtime routine even at that young age and as long as I stuck to the script they were going to go to sleep.

Eventually.

Oh the crying. I’m not sure you ever really get used to the sound of two babies screaming over each other. Many times in their early days I would just sit own on the couch in the middle of the wailing and have myself a little cry too. It was the only thing I could do.

That, and text my husband. I remember texting him that they were both crying and wouldn’t drink their bottles and I didn’t know what to do and I couldn’t do anything and the world was going to end and we were all going to die of starvation and sleep deprivation because they wouldn’t eat or sleep and where was he and could he please come home. It was not my first nor sadly my last irrational text message to that poor man.

I fed them their bottles simultaneously every morning. I have photographic evidence that this was my method.

It worked perfectly. Until that night. They squirmed and cried and choked and seemed to move further away from sleep by the minute. I just couldn’t make anything work that had always worked and being the only adult in the house just served to increase my panic. Just writing about it brings back that awful, sick, hopeless feeling.

But you know what happened… well, I just tried something else because I had to, didn’t I. I put Marlow in the swing with her pacifier and her blanket and turned it on and let her cry. I gathered up Soren, got him calmed down enough to take his bottle and he fell peacefully asleep. By the time I came back from putting him in bed, Marlow had fallen asleep in the swing! I gave her her bottle and popped her into bed. They had a few more rough moments but before J was home everything was done.

This wasn’t the last time I had to do this, and it wasn’t the worst either. There were nights when J was out of town and I had to do bedtime, bottles throughout the night and morning. There were times when they wouldn’t stop crying and wouldn’t sleep. There were times when my anxiety was so great that I lost my appetite and couldn’t sleep. But the thing I began to realize over time is that 1) it never lasts forever and 2) I can do things that I didn’t think I could.

So does it get easier now that they’re almost a year older? In some ways, yes. But I think what has changed the most is me. I have all these experiences of survival behind me. I have the failed experiments at certain routines. I have all the knowledge of my kids and their little quirks and what works best for each of them. And most of all, I don’t fear that I can’t do because I will do it. I have to. I’ve had to since they were born. I just do it and it’s not always pretty but it never lasts forever.

Today was a fantastic day. My kids napped well and ate well and traveled in the car so well. We skyped with Nana and Grandpa and had baths and bottles and into bed where there were no tears. Not one. Only hiccups.

It took a long time to get to this place, for all of us. And there is no way we ever EVER would have without my husband. But he can’t be here all the time, despite my personal preference. His work is important to him and has value. And I needed to learn how to do things at home on my own. So I can stop sending irrational text messages to my husband and free him up from feeling like he’s leaving me in an impossible situation.

Because believe it or not, I have discovered that solo assembly line feeding-bathing-clothing-rocking-putting down two wriggling little squirmballs is not only possible, but sometimes even very satisfying.

Last weekend we got the invite to go hang out on Bowen Island with John’s sister, Adrianne and our brother-in-law Gordie and their two boys. They were housesitting so we took the ferry over from Horseshoe Bay to keep them company overnight.

It was a perfect couple days weather wise and our kids loved the island experience. Soren especially really thrives in the outdoors and we all kept commenting on how content he seemed to be. Whether they were playing by themselves on the floor, going to the beach with John or into town with me they really made the two days so relaxing for us.

All the kids were down by about 7pm and the four of us ate on the patio. It definitely hit us that we hadn’t been able to do something like this since before we all had kids. We used to have meals like this together all the time and we miss it. This led the conversation down the path of communal living which did seem really tempting since Gord made his usual killer supper  and breakfast and presumably this would occur all the time.

If we can’t share a house maybe at least we could be close enough for the baby monitors to reach?

The only hitch was the overnight part which involved about an hour of crying and struggling to go back to sleep on the part of Soren and a middle of the night cry/bottle for the littlest cousin, Quinn. At one point around 4:30am all four adults were up and crossing paths in the kitchen as we worked on keeping/getting all the kids to sleep.

We were understandably a bit tired the next morning but we still visited the outdoor market, ate fish and chips by the water and the guys got in a quick dip in the water before it was time to head home.

It felt like a really mini vacation. If money were no object let me tell you we would have a place on Bowen tomorrow. Sigh.

I turned 29 recently, and though the day itself was pretty forgettable (save a delicious lunch at Meat and Bread with my other half and our littles, left) and the babies absolutely did not get the memo that they should cut me any slack, overall it was a good last birthday of my 20s.

John gave me a gift certificate to the Dirty Apron cooking school for a class of my choice. Months ago when we first looked at our apartment and walked down the streets of the neighborhood we walked by the school and it’s restaurant and commented on what fun it would be to take a class. Of course he remembered and now I get to choose to learn a little about French cooking, West Coast cooking, proper knife skills, etc. – and enjoy the amazing meal we’ll make. Of course a perk of this gift is that it means 4 hours of peaceful focus on something other than bottles, naps and diapers!

So 29. Maybe a bigger deal if I had the time to sit and think on it. But 28 was a busy, crazy year and 29 will likely be the same. Besides the year I got married, and maybe even including that, this may be the year of most change in my life. I don’t even have to explain beyond saying on my 28th birthday I didn’t have twins and on my 29th I did. That is all.

I have had enough time to reflect on making a couple small birthday resolutions for myself that I’d like to work on in my last year of my twenties. Nothing major really, a couple personal things I’d like to be different when I turn 30. Because of the events of this last year I haven’t had much time to focus on myself (hopefully that doesn’t sound like I think it might) and have started to feel a bit like a stereotype of a new mom: never do my hair, don’t like the way I look in anything, spend my time making sure my babies eat well and get physical activity whether I ever do or not.

So I’ve made some resolutions to help me break out of this funk, learn how to incorporate “regular girlie stuff” back into the life of a mom of twins and generally go into my 30s feeling like a yummy mummy and not a cliche.

And they are…

• Drink more water. A lot more. For my skin, for weight loss, for general youthfulness that will stick with me into my 30s.
• Take better care of my skin. It’s changed since having kids and for the first time since high school I think about how I don’t like it. So I’ve invested in better products, taken more time on it (and let that baby laundry pile up, oh well) and plan to start getting facials on a regular basis.
• Work out. Ya, like just do it. Because I don’t, ever. I’ve set some measurable goals with John and he’s committed to taking care of the babies for chunks of time that I can go to classes at the gym. My goal is to be in better shape when I turn 30 than I was before I had kids.

Ya, my goals are all personal and a little simple and maybe a bit, I don’t know, vain. But the thing is I don’t want to stay in the First Year Mom fog forever and when my kids are old enough to watch me I want them to see a person who is healthy, confident and happy in their own skin. I want to be so pumped to be 30 I’m counting down the days.

Let’s go 29, we got work to do.

Last week we went to the U2 360 Tour in Edmonton. This is our second time seeing this tour except the first time we were super close on the floor of an indoor venue and this time we had nosebleed section seats in an outdoor one. While the experience was not as intense as the first time (the best concert I have ever seen) it was still amazing to see the show from a new vantage point, and get some good shots o my iPhone too.

If you’re going to see this tour I highly recommend you spring for floor seats – if you like the intensity of being caught up in it all. There is nothing like seeing that giant spider/spaceship towering over you with the sound of Bono all around you. There were moments I forgot where I was, it was that all-consuming. If that doesn’t make you want to go out and buy tickets close enough that maybe Bono will touch you and you’ll never wash that arm again, at least go for the lowest level of seating, it’s well worth it.

Both J and I said we’d see them again. In an indoor venue. With floor tickets. Maybe we can even get in that inner ring…

Yes I shared this on Facebook already and yes, I am sharing it again. Because if you like Death Cab for Cutie or want to see “The FIRST LIVE, SCRIPTED, ONE-TAKE MUSIC VIDEO SHOOT. EVER.” you should check this out. And then check out the making of video if you’re nerdy about it like we were.

I’d also like to say I have a huge music video crush on the bassist solely because of his awesome walk. If I played the bass that is how I would do it.

Pre-order the album CODES and KEYS

Soren and Marlow will be 5 months old on Friday but who knows what they’ll decide to do on that day, maybe poop through 4 outfits or something, so I thought I’d better take this moment of peace to post in advance. In case of poop.

It’s been a pretty crazy 5 months, not ones I plan to repeat. But having these little toothless grinners in our lives has been the silver lining on a pretty hard season. Most days I’m just glad we’ve gotten through the early stages and survived to the point that we have, but when I look back at pictures I’m reminded of the first days and weeks and I do miss them.

To celebrate their 5 month birthday Big Boy Soren and Miss M will be sticking their little toe in the waters of rice cereal. I’ll be sure to have J ready with the camera to catch any special reactions to their first taste of grown-up food.

Can’t believe you guys are 5 months already… and sleeping well most nights, sitting up in your bumbo chairs and laughing at my really good jokes. You both clearly have a lot to say and we love that you’re trying so hard to get your points across. I can only imagine in 5 more months all that you will bring to our family. Thanks for teaching us so much about ourselves – our selfishness, our laziness, our silly need for sleep – hopefully by the time you’re old enough to know us better we’ll be pretty good parents.

I have some pretty cool kids.

Today our babies are one month old. I can’t believe that much time has passed since I was sitting in the case room of labour and delivery at Burnaby Hospital thinking how did I go from a routine doctor’s appointment to putting on a hospital gown in a matter of hours?!

A month ago today, just a few hours from now actually, I was sitting in that case room looking like this:

And by 11:00pm that night I looked very different and so did our lives. The fact that I haven’t blogged since then is just one small symptom of this massive change. I feel like I reordering my day, my time, my life from scratch and figuring out how all the things I used to do from brushing my teeth to making dinner to going to the grocery store are going to fit around the daily lives of two little humans.

One month is huge. They look so different from those skinny little preemies we visited in the NICU. They have chubby cheeks and little pot bellies and they cry like real little newborns (preemies don’t really cry, it was nice). They are hungry seemingly all the time, enjoy being in the bath but hate the parts before and after and would be held through all their naps if we would do it.

Having one month old preemies is a whole different ballgame though. We don’t really know how much past their “real” full-term date they will act like newborns. They may still want to eat every 3 hours or they may begin to mature and sleep longer. Their bodies have gotten stronger from use but they are still as small as a newborn and get tired and overstimulated like one. It is a process of learning and trying to respond to them where they’re at in their unique journey, no matter what the books say they will or won’t do.

Our lives are crazy. Unrecognizable. Beautiful. We run a 24 hour operation here and the coffee consumption has increased. But in the middle of it all there is the our family, the four of us. Every day we get to know each other more and our new life continues to take shape. It doesn’t look like what I thought, and it’s not always easy, but they were totally worth it.

We spent our anniversary dinner at Kobe Steakhouse in Vancouver. I got the steak, John got the steak, lobster and shrimp. I tried the shrimp and lobster and agreed seafood is delicious when it’s quality.

Watching them cook your food was all part of the experience, one that we both agreed was an excellent way to celebrate 4 years together.

Exactly four years ago I married a guy I really wanted but didn’t fully know how much I needed.

My best friend, my partner, the relationship in which I have learned the most about myself and been changed – usually the hard way. The way love looks and feels changes over time, even in four years, but as we’ve stuck with it through good, bad, fun and hard, we’re seeing it turn into something more than we could have anticipated.

I thank God for giving me someone with such a character of commitment and faithfulness – to me, to our family and to his faith in Jesus. I can think about anniversaries to come and raising our kids because I know we’re in this together.

Happy anniversary to my best friend for life.