You Know You're A Parent When...

Let's get dirty. There are things that us parents have done that either make us just sad human beings, or totally awesome because we've faced (and sniffed) the unthinkable and come out on the other side. It's kind of like the old Jeff Foxworthy saying "You know you're a redneck when..." I choose to believe we are awesome, even though some of what we've done is downright gross. This is a list of a few moments that Josh and I have compiled that undecidedly make us parents. (Warning, some of this is seriously TMI. Stop now unless you want to know some intense world-rocking facts about the underbelly of parenting.)

You know you're a parent when:

* Baby things cover your house, car and person. 

Babies are so cute. Most of the time. Like when they are sleeping. But you forget the massive amounts of stuff they come with that just accumulates until you think your house will disappear. Even if you buy the bare minimum of items, you still end up with clothes, toys and play gyms all over your living room. And more clothes and bath items in their bathroom and your bathroom. And a mini-van packed down with more clothes, toys, a stroller, baby carrier, car seats, blankets, a beach towel, sunscreen/bug spray, and the fully stocked diaper bag. Plus you will also have at least a burp cloth on your shoulder if not a lovey and pacifier in your hands as well. And don't forget the baby! Or two! 

* When leaving the house you have absolutely EVERYTHING your kids could POSSIBLY need, but forget your own wallet. 

Let's go back to the "stuff" list above. You've got it all right? Sippy cups? Diaper bag? Ergo? Paci? Extra paci? Snack? Burp cloths? Keys? Kids?! Great! Hop in the car, drive all the way to Target, unload everyone/thing, get into the store and realize you don't have your wallet. Just go home and stay there. It took so much effort and time to get out of the house and to Target you're worn out and you've missed the "happy window" where each child is content anyway. Epic fail. 

*You can clean your whole house in 45 minutes. 

Guess what? Your relatives just called and they want to come visit the babies. They are stopping by the store but will be there in an hour or so. RUN! Leave the baby crying and book it to the pile of dishes in the sink from last night. Forget washing them, just toss everything into the dishwasher. Clutter makes the house look it's worst so like lightning grab everything within reach and toss it in the general direction it should be in. Husbands socks and shoes? Closet. Toys toys toys? Toy bin! You get the idea, just throw it! Speedy vacuum the rugs and spray some Febreze! And don't forget to change out of your pjs and slap some eyeliner on! (Remember, no one cleans house like a Mama in a hurry!) 

* You wake your sleeping baby to make sure they are ok. 

Let me start with, NEVER wake a sleeping baby! They hate it and you will pay dearly. However, we've all been there. The SIDS scare. The heart-stopping moment your child sleeps like 5 straight hours and you know it when you wake in panic and realize the time. They didn't wake up to feed in the middle of the night. Panic grips you and you want to rush to them but are also completely paralyzed in fear that they won't be ok. Time moves so slowly as you inhale, exhale and bend over their bassinet and place a hand to their chest. That damn startle reflex! You both jump in complete shock and the baby's arms fling out and she starts screaming. Yeap, she's good. Forget you just aged five years in two minutes.

* Sugar is your worst enemy and caffeine is your best friend. 

Sugar in a tiny human who isn't used to sugar is just bad. Like that trick with a coke bottle and antacids. Boom! You can see it come into their eyes before they start actually bouncing around the house and giggling like a looney toon on Saturday morning. And a tiny dose lasts a looonnnggg time and when they crash, they crash hard. Ironically, caffeine in large doses is the only way you are alive right now let alone chasing after your tiny human. 

* You've hidden candy/chocolate/cookies from your kids and forget where you have them. 

"Iight iight!" It haunts my dreams. My chocolate dreams that is. That's Addison's version of "I want!" She's old enough now to know that if you are enjoying it, she should be too so we've gotten extra sneaky with sugar in this house. Occasionally, she will get a bite of an Oreo or Daddy's ice cream but sugar is the devil so we have to hide it from tiny wanting hands... "Honey, where did the mini Hershey bars go?"

* You grab a booger with your bare fingers. 

Yes. I've done it, Josh has done it. We aren't entirely proud of this fact, but there isn't always a tissue and young kids don't know how to "blow" yet so there you are. When you can see the booger, don't waste time. And I'll have you know, Josh is the booger-getting king. Both the kids in this house have the cleanest noses you'll ever encounter. Hopefully you don't encounter too many.

* You sniff your baby's butt in public with no shame.
Sad to say but until Addison was about 5 months old, this was Josh's go-to method of checking to see if she was...let's say "dirty". You might think this is 100% appalling, but to Josh, it was a survival technique honed from too many incidents of sticking his finger into the diaper to pull it back and look, only to stick his finger directly into baby poo. Of course then he would call me and I'd have to come handle it while he ran to wash his hands. If I'm honest, he did this at least once a day for the first 2 months of her life until he started the sniffing. Personally, I always thought once he was dirty, he should just man up, wipe it off and continue changing her. I mean, why did we both need to be involved when he was clearly the one who went horribly wrong in this changing experience? *Sigh*

* Poop is your world. Literally.
Never ever in a million years did you think you would be so involved in someone else's bodily functions. I mean jeez, we talk about it, clean it, smell it, wait for it, dread it, inspect it...Gross gross gross! If your marriage can survive this phase, you're solid. Cheers for potty training to end this topic in our house!

What would you add to the list? You know you're a parent when...

A Walk At 2 1/2 Feet Tall

A simple walk around the block with Addison really opens your eyes to the details of the world... She walks in the crisp grass sometimes to hear the way it crunches under her sneakers, and when she does mosey down the sidewalk, she'll trot like a pony to hear the clop of her rubber soles slap pavement. She will bend down to inspect a flower's petals from every angle, reach out and touch a leaf to see how the waxy green feels on her fingertips. Her head whips back and forth from each side, concrete to clouds, to ensure she never misses seeing part of the world. If desired, a favorite lovey accompanies us for the .62 of a mile loop. Just because it's nice to have your best friend with you. A walk with Addison makes time slow down. Everyone should take a walk like that every once in a while and remember to enjoy life.

Mama Bear

Mama Bears are fierce. They are large and in charge creatures who will kill to protect their young cubs. You only see a Mama Bear with her cubs and I think that's partly why. With no Daddy Bear around she has to be the caring and nurturing parent but she also has to be the provider and protector.

Like bears, us humans would do anything to defend our babies and keep them safe. Let them fall, let them learn to get up yes, but do anything necessary to protect them whether that involves child-proofing the house, buckling the extreme amount of buckles on a car seat, or keeping a wary eye out for predators/kidnappers (the scariest of Mommy fears) when out shopping...

Though I would definitely kick some serious butt (we have gone G-rated with language in this house) if needed, I think a Mama Bear is grouchy for a good reason. She's exhausted! I'm referencing the knock-down, drag-out, face-to-pillow, drooling from exhaustion, growling and teeth "bearing" (see what I did there?) EXHAUSTED. Now see, though us moms are super about plastering a smile on our faces and conquering the world when we wake up, it's the waking up that is hard. It's like a torture routine in my house.

Addison is sleeping in her big girl bed these days and she can get up and come find Mommy on her own in the mornings now. I hear vaguely, in some part of the back of my brain, her pop up and grab her Lovey and skedaddle out of her bed in the morning over the monitor receiver. It takes about 15-20 seconds for her to make her way down the long hallway and around the corner. You'd think I'd be up and ready to greet her and take on the world right? Nope. Even though I slightly hear her coming, nothing can prepare you for a 3-foot tiny human to come open and slam your bedroom door, wander over to the edge of your bed and yell in your face, "UP! UP! UP!" at 5:40 in the morning.

Hhhmmmmmn. "UP! UP! UP!" Opening one eye, I reach over and tap my phone. Hhhmmmmmn. Close my eye again. "UP! UP!" I groan and croak out, "Addison, honey, it's too early. Come snuggle with Mommy." The reply, "UP!" "No 'up'. It's too early to be 'up'. Come snuggle," I plead. I know if I can entice her to lay with me for a minute we might get another half hour to hour of sleep. Beautiful sleep. I was just up with Loralei about an hour ago around 430 and barely crawled back into bed for the third time that night.

She holds her slender arms up for me to grab her and help her into the covers. We snuggle close and I close my eyes breathing in her Johnson's and Johnson's sweet baby smell. Just as I start to really drift off again, the bassinet squeaks. No. Please, no. Another squeak and a whimper to go along with it. Hhmmmmmn. I breathe deeply, exhale, and moan as Addison snores on Josh's pillow. She is such a mini-Josh. Stretching, I open one eye and see that it is 6:07. Squeak. I rub my face with my hands, roll off the bed and scoop up Loralei just as she wakes up to cry and bring her to the changing table.

After I change her, we sit in the glider to nurse and I close my eyes as I rock slightly enjoying the rest-like state. Once she's content again, I gently place her back in the bassinet and climb back into bed slowly, hugging my pillow like a long-lost friend. The phone says 6:39. I sigh and close my eyes drifting off...

"UP!" Grrr. 

I Can Do It All - With A Baby On Each Hip

We've all seen the two main types of moms of multiple littles while in the grocery store…the one who has her shit together moving as smoothly as NASA engineers launching a rocket with not one hiccup (three-two-one-blast off!), and the one who can barely manage to keep her kids in her line-of-sight, tossing anything within reach into the buggy. Sloppy Joe sauce and black beans…I can make a decent meal with this! Hell, not only have you seen both these types of moms you have probably been both at some point right?

I'm here to tell you that I definitely have. You have to totally screw it all up first to figure out how to do it right, right? Yes. The first time I was truly out of the house after Addison was born was to go to the mall and dinner with my husband, Josh, and my mom, when Addison was about two months old. It was also the first time I had to feed Addison in public. Well, in public was actually hiding away in the center of the large bathroom stall standing up with my nursing cover on in Olive Garden. Five minutes before that she peed all over the changing pad, new diaper yet to be placed on her bum, her outfit and even onto the floor. I count my blessings that she didn't somehow manage to pee on me as well. To this day, I barely remember how I changed her and cleaned up the mess while holding my giant over-stuffed diaper bag. I just knew I had to. I ended up taking my fidgety baby to the car to finish nursing while my mom and husband finished dinner without me, bringing me a to-go box later. I consider it a success, no?

So now that I have two tiny humans, one breastfed and one eating food food, you might be wondering, like many other's who have yet to have multiples, what's the secret to being a mother of two under two? Mostly, for me, it's faking it and a can-do attitude. I've always had the optimistic attitude and the faking it just takes a little practice. Maybe three weeks worth? My brother's girlfriend came over last week and watched amazed while I unfolded and snapped into place Addison's high chair one-handed and swung her into it all while wearing Loralei strapped to my chest in the Moby wrap. Then as I ran between letting dogs in and out, making a sandwich, fetching a juice cup, picking food up off the floor, preparing my own lunch, grabbing some fruit, running for a rag to clean up with…"Uh, can I help you?" she asked. "Naw, I got it," I said back honestly.

What can I say? I have had plenty of practice. I literally do this all day every day. The main thing is you just do what you gotta do to keep the tiny humans happy. What ever makes them happy. Within reason of course. Don't go tossing ice cream cones and candy in the air while you announce there will never be nap time or pajamas again. That's just crazy. At this stage of life for Loralei, being happy is mostly just boobs. Sorry to say but those ladies are her joyous little world. And it's a nice world. It's so simple to make her happy. For me anyway. Hubs is just gonna have to figure something else out there. I was in the shower a few weeks ago and he kept telling me she was hungry, "She's sucking on my arm!" he yelled. "Let her!" I called back. Haha, maybe that arm hickey will make him realize how brutal breastfeeding is.

 Keeping Addison happy is a totally different story. She can move and climb and therefore requires constant supervision. If she's doing something dangerous and you request she stop, some demon toddler takes over her body and she will flail and scream and cry crocodile tears, my sweet angel having fled the scene. Hello Satan, have you seen my darling little girl?? And trust me, if you blink, she's into something dangerous. Seriously, she can scale the drier. Seriously. She's standing on my left having just pushed the wet darks into the drier and I bend and reach to my right to grab some lights to toss in the open wash and as I stand back up she's just there, sitting on the drier grinning at me. Uh, ok then. So I have to be more versatile and ready to run with her. She doesn't care if I'm changing Loralei, nursing, peeing, vacuuming, whatever, when she wants to throw the ball, it's time to throw the ball. That's how toddlers work. It's their little world, we just live in it. If you can accept that fact, then having two under two becomes understandable.

A firefighter's wife asked me the other day if it was "doable" to have two kids so young. (She's contemplating it as her first-born child turned one at the end of last month.) I told her it's completely doable if you like a challenge. In the event of a melt-down, or every day before dinner, you just have to know who to handle first. The trick is to make the bigger tiny human happy first. Their needs are just more complicated to decipher as they can't yet talk but still have demands. Once you figure out what it is they want (such as attention, a snack, a drink) make that happen then make the little tiny human happy. (Read about the boobs again above. ^)

So, yes, I can read a book with a toddler on my lap, fill a sippy cup, switch laundry from the washer to the drier, make a sandwich…all one-handed or while nursing. I will whole-heartedly admit that I sucked capital S at this the first few weeks when Josh's paternity leave ended, but when you're the only one home with two crying babies, three dogs barking at the doorbell, and the drier buzzing in your ear, you just figure it out. There is no alternative. This…is…SPARTA!

Oh, and baby-wear when you grocery shop. They can't run if they are strapped to you!

An Apology

I just want to come out and say I'm sorry... I'm sorry I don't return your calls for days. I'm sorry I don't call in the first place. I'm sorry I can't reply to your texts, but that Addison does. I'm sorry that we don't meet up and hang out anymore. I'm sorry I can't enjoy a meal in a restaurant that requires us to stay longer than 30 minutes tops. I'm sorry all I can talk about is my kids and their latest "discovery". I'm sorry I can't continue to look at your face when we talk because I'm running after a baby, but I promise I am listening...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=36OKi1DRgoA

If you click the link above and watch the short clip, you get a small glimpse into a stay-at-home-mom's life. Though we love it, and cherish it, every day can sometimes seem like a battle to win and in the accomplishing of chores we lose those valuable relationships we used to have with other family and friends. Basically, unless you currently have a tiny human of your own to care for, we are just at a loss of what to do with you now. Our whole lives, day-to-day functions, purposes for existing, are tiny human related. Always.

I can't hear you on the phone so I don't call. Someone is always loud in the background and you'll end up feeling neglected because I keep going "Sorry, what?". If you text me, I can reply quickly in the middle of most tasks but there is also a chance that Addison will be the one responding with a series of scrambled numbers and letters. I can't go anywhere that requires me to leave my little one's for long because I am their main source of care/food. I can't go anywhere that requires my little one's to sit still for more than a half hour. They just aren't capable at this age. If I can manage to go somewhere with you it should preferably be somewhere I can breastfeed without judgement, child-proofed a little so Addi can run happily free, and please, let it provide snacks. We are always snacking. It's hard for me to uphold a decent conversation unless you brought your own tiny human to entertain mine but I'll do my best. I can't promise it'll be anything interesting to you unless you are excited about potty-training or something as mundane-sounding as learning to sit up.

It might seem bland and repetitive to you, but this is my life. They are my whole world. And I like my world. But I do miss you. You should know that. I miss our long conversations and leisurely meals together and the ability to go to events with you. But I also won't miss them forever. My girls will grow so quickly. They already are. I don't want to miss these seemingly mundane days. To you Loralei is just laying on her belly, to me she's lifting her head higher than yesterday and the big grin on her face matches mine as she grasps a new skill vital to life. And as you watch Addison point to her nose and toes and belly when asked, know that I taught her that. Part by part she is discovering her body, her current mysterious struggle is the elbow. It just keeps hiding behind her arm you see. I promise that one day I will come back to you, and please please please don't stop trying to call, go, and visit with me. Just know that I am thinking of you in my loud world and waiting to hear from you, go with you, see you, but right now we are trying to find an elbow...