I know a lot of you have been waiting for this post for a while now. I've wanted to write it but I've been trying to figure out the best way to portray my new life as a mom to three babies under two without sounding like I'm ungrateful or have regrets. So I will just start off by saying that I still feel extremely blessed by the life I have been given and even though it may be extremely hard I would not trade it for anything.
Since the day we welcomed Bray in to this world life has not been the same. Our lives have been turned upside down even more so than with the twins. Don't get me wrong. Things changed when the twins were born, but things still seemed to go at a slower pace. We were able to accomplish simple tasks such as laundry and eating dinner. These days we are lucky if we get a meal or even just get to sit down by 8pm. There are constantly bottles, dishes and pumping supplies to wash, laundry to be done (almost daily), dinner to be made (for the boys only), Bray wants to nurse during that dinner time, three baths to be taken, pumping and bags, lunches, etc to be packed for the next day. So needless to say we barely have time to breathe.
Let's just walk through a typical day in our household. We'll start with wake up time.
4:20 am - alarm goes off. Roll over hit snooze because I can't open my eyes.
4:30 am - alarm goes off again. Bray is usually stirring by this point so I unwillingly say fine and get up. I go warm a bottle while Robert gets up and starts getting ready. Feed Bray. Lay him back down. Sometimes he goes back to sleep and sometimes he just lays there and talks.
4:50 am - Get in shower. Beckham has usually woken up by this point and is crying for his momma, dadda and bubba. We let him cry. (I know we're horrible)
5:00 amish - Pump. Beckham has fallen back asleep by this time.
5:20 amish - Wash bottles and pump supplies and gather everthing up for the day. (pumping bag and Bray's bottles for daycare)
5:30 am - I can usually start finally getting myself ready for the day. Robert is finished by this point so he packs our lunch bags for the day and then starts getting the twins up and ready.
5:50 am - Get Bray changed and dressed and help Robert if he hasn't finished getting the twins dressed and brush their teeth and hair.
6:00 amish - Pack up our herd in my awesome hot mini van and head to daycare.
7:00-5:00 - Get relaxtion at work, but think nonstop (and cry sometimes) about the kids.
6:00pm - Get home, strip their clothes, put the boys in their chairs at the table and turn Lion King on to occupy them long enough to pop dinner in the microwave. (Yes, again we are horrible) Bray is usually asleep in his car seat and we leave him be for the moment.
6:15 pm - Dinner is served. Bray has woken up and is crying at this point because he is hungry even though he just ate an hour ago. (He still cluster feeds at night)
6:30 pm - Bray is attached to my boob. Brody has usually dumped his entire plate on the table and is making swirls of whatever sauce or fruit juice he had. Robert is gathering up laundry or getting bath and night stuff ready.
6:40 pm - Bray is still attached. (Some nights I just have to unattach him long enough to give the twins baths) Robert cleans off plates and hands and we head to the bath tub. Twins play for 5 minutes and then it's time to get down to business. They cry as we take them out because they love bath time. Get boys dressed and ready for bed. Bray is screaming at this time because how dare you not feed him.
7:00 pm - Get Bray bathed and ready for bed. Reattach Bray. Twins grab a book to take to bed. They give me and Bray a kiss and Robert puts them down. They have no problem going to sleep and are out within 5 minutes usually.
7:30 pm - Bray has usually fallen asleep by this point so I put him in his rock n play in our room.
7:45 pm - Finally grab us something to eat.
8:00 pm - Start washing bottles and pumping supplies from the day. Robert is cleaing off the table. Bray is crying. How dare you put him down. Robert goes in and rocks him back to sleep.
8:15 pm - Pump.
8:30 pm - Ah sleep.
12-3am - Bray will usually wake up somewhere between this point. I get up to get a bottle warmed while Robert changes him. Robert feeds Bray while I pump. Back to sleep.
4:20 am - Alarm goes off and so starts our day once again.
Our life is anything but relaxing at the moment. Here is where I'm going to tell you how I really feel most days and here is where my guilt begins. I sometimes dread nights. I love picking up all the boys and hearing Brody run to me yelling mommy and then giving them all the biggest hugs and kisses because I've missed them so much, but at the same time I know we are about to go home and have a million things to do. I know that I am going to be so exhausted from lack of sleep and being at work all day and all I really want to do is lay on a couch and go to sleep. But that is something that literally can't happen at our house. All the things we "have" to do are things that we literally have to do. There is nothing we can cut out and leave for the weekend. I find myself most nights almost in tears just from pure exhaustion. Both emotional and physical. I'm sad because there is no quality time with what is most likely our last baby. Then I'm sad because there is no play time with the twins. I find myself wanting them to be just a little older so they are more independent. Then I find myself crying because they are growing too fast. My mind is in a constant battle with itself. I get upset at the fact that we will never know what it is like to just have one baby. We got on the fast track baby plan and that ship is just sailing right along without stopping to enjoy the view. I love all three of my boys more than anything in this world and know that things happen when they are supposed to, but when do I get to enjoy them? When do I get to just take a moment, be mommy, and play. And I'm not talking just play in general. I'm talking play with each one individually. I feel guilty that they don't have that. I took Brody with me to Target the other day and it was one of the most fun times I've had with him. That sounds crazy but it was so different with just one kid. I know Summer is coming up and there will be more opportunities to do things with them, but then it's the issue of what to do with Bray. We have two toddlers that are still very dependent on us and have to be watched, so that leaves us one adult shy of a kid (Bray). I'm sure we will figure all this out eventually. It's still very new but on the same note each new phase of Bray's life will require more attention. Right now I feel is when it is going to be the easiest for the next couple of years. The bottom line is, for those that wanted to know what life was like, life is hard. It's exhausting. Somedays I truly do not know how I'm going to make it through another day. Somehow we just do.
Boys
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Being a Mom
I found this on someone else's blog and had to post it. This is a perfect depiction of how I feel as a mother. Altough my babies are still young I still think about the future and how I am going to protect them and teach them the things of this world. The love I feel as a mother is something I will never be able to fully describe. It's something you just have to experience for yourself to know. I love those kids so much it hurts and would do anything to protect them.
We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?"
"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.
"I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations."
But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes.
I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.
I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her.
That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.
I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moments hesitation.
I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.
I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.
However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.
Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself.
That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.
I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.
My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks.
I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child.
I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.
I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving.
I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.
I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time.
I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts.
My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings.
- Author Unknown
We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?"
"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.
"I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations."
But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes.
I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.
I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her.
That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.
I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moments hesitation.
I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.
I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.
However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.
Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself.
That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.
I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.
My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks.
I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child.
I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.
I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving.
I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.
I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time.
I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts.
My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings.
- Author Unknown
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Two Months
You are two months old already my little Bray Bray. You have started smiling so big first thing every morning and there couldn't be anything better to wake up to at 4 am. You love to coo at us when we talk to you. I think you are telling us how much you love us. You sure are a strong little man and rolled over from your tummy to back for the first time at a little under 5 wks old. I thought it might have been a fluke, but you have done it several times since then. This leads me to believe you are going to be very advanced like your brothers. Yes, I think all you boys are very advanced and smart and you get it from your mommy :). You are getting some pretty cute little rolls these days. This is something new for mommy and daddy as your brothers were so much smaller than you are. You are wearing 0-3 month clothes, size 1 diapers, but about to go up to 2. Here are your stats from your two month appointment:
Weight: 13 lbs (70th %)
Length: 23 in (50th %)
Head: 15 1/2 (60th %)
We love you so much and so do your big brothers. You were meant to be in this family and we are so thankful for you our little munchkin. Love you to pieces.
(sorry for the sideway pics)
Weight: 13 lbs (70th %)
Length: 23 in (50th %)
Head: 15 1/2 (60th %)
We love you so much and so do your big brothers. You were meant to be in this family and we are so thankful for you our little munchkin. Love you to pieces.
(sorry for the sideway pics)
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