Psych. It's Totally My Job To Enterain You (A List!)

This past Monday, the boys were 2 months old.
Can you believe it?
In the time it takes most women to get around to washing their favorite bra (don't lie - we all do it), my little meatloaves grew about 4 lbs...which is more than what they weighed when they were born!

*sigh

In those two months of parenting (well, okay 3 weeks NICU support and 5 weeks of real parenting), I figured a couple things out.
Mind you, only a couple.
But here they are, so that those of you who are pregnant or thinking of having kids can learn from my mistakes.

1. You only ever have two hands.
When it comes to babies, the more hands you have, the better. Which is great when people are around, but when it's just You Vs. Meatloaf (or meatloaves, in my unfortunate case), two hands is about 4 less than you need. So here's the thing: Sometimes, you just gotta let them cry. I'm not talking about letting them cry while you catch up on episodes of 30 Rock (although I've been sorely tempted)...and I'm not talking about letting them cry because they've wriggled themselves half way out of their bouncer and are precariously close to taking a floor dive. I'm talking about letting them cry (from a place of safety) while you finish preparing their bottles/take a quick shower/poo/finish switching the laundry from the washer to the dryer. Is their unaddressed crying going to lead to deep neglect and abandonment issues that may or may not cause them to grow up to be serial killers? Maybe. But whether they're developing a psychosis or not, again, you only have two hands, so it's probably best not to worry about it. Finish eating your slice of cold pizza and THEN go feed your little Son Of Sam.

2. There's dirty, and then there's DIRTY
Everybody knows that babies = gargantuan amounts of laundry. So in an effort to save your sanity and a few loads of wash (think of it as a 'green' initiative), you have to decide where exactly to draw the line in the sand when it comes to so-called 'dirty' baby laundry. Before you throw that bib in the hamper, think to yourself: does it really need to be washed? Is the damp spit-up touching your baby's chin or hanging out harmlessly on their chest? Could the bib potentially be dried and turned around, thus creating a new, relatively clean surface? How many clean bibs are left before the laundry reaches that critical point where you are elbows deep in vomit with nary a burp cloth to be found? Of course, a lot of this depends on how much of a hassle it is to throw the laundry in the wash. If your washer/dryer unit is conveniently located in your kitchen, it's a lot easier to do multiple loads than a house like mine, where venturing into the cold, dank, stinky basement to do the laundry is akin to The Lord Of The Rings: The Cat Piss Edition. But either way, it's best to think of "dirty" as a spectrum, rather than a fixed point. Trust me - the planet thanks you for your conservation.

3. That soft spot on their head is super creepy.
No explanation needed. Just sayin'...

4. Breast feed, breast feed, breast feed.
I'm pro-breast feeding. But not for the health benefits or the mutual bonding. In this case, I'm all about the dolla billz, y'all. Formula is MAD EXPENSIVE, and they eat more of it than you can imagine. I personally tried my damnedest to breast feed. I started pumping the minute they were lifted out of my abdominal cavity and didn't stop the whole time they were in the NICU. Unfortunately, by the time they were home, I was pretty much sucked bone dry. It was devastating....but not NEARLY as devastating as it was to find out that one can of Similac Neosure cost about $15 and we were going through a can every 48 hours. Imagine how much they'll eat when their stomachs are larger than the size of a marble?!? So yeah, breastfeeding is the way to go. And if you MUST go the formula route, remember to save the receipts so you can whip them out when they start complaining about the costs of keeping you in a nursing home. Payback's a BITCH, yo.

5. Think negative.
I've come to realize that the absolute worst thing you can do while waiting for your little bundle of joy to arrive is to reassure yourself that whatever comes your way, you can handle it. Instead, I want you to imagine the absolute worst scenario: the baby (or babies) is(are) screaming, the living room has been overtaken by laundry, there's a pot boiling over on the stove, the phone is off the hook, and you're in a corner having a nervous breakdown, pulling out your hair and sobbing uncontrollably. Now, keep imagining this scenario every day until you actually give birth. Rest assured, I'm not telling you to do this because that's how it is. No...I'm telling you to do this so when the baby comes home and it's not quite as bad as you imagined....well...that rocks. You see, it's all about perspective. When I use my vacations to go backpacking, it's to help me appreciate the little luxuries in life. Like eating off a plate. Or going to sleep without worrying about bears ripping through your tent and mauling you to death. The same can be said for child rearing. If you are 100% prepared for the worst experience of your life, then you're pleasantly surprised when there are moments of calm and you find yourself managing to get through the day without considering suicide. See? Perspective.

That's it for now. I'm guessing the babies won't be sleeping for that much longer (always a safe assumption), and I should probably prep for the next round of feedings, changings, and burpings. But keep those items in mind, should you find yourself with a bun in the oven; the difference between an awful day and a great day is often simply how you approach the obstacles set in front of you.