The Twin Factor

Being a reasonably effective mother of twins really boils down to managing the competition inherent with twin siblings.  From the point of their conception, Austin and Bassem have been in competition.  In utero, the boys competed for air, fluid, and nutrients.  As they grew bigger, space became a point of contention.  While my insides contorted to accommodate them, they wiggled, kicked, punched, shoved, and squirmed for the best possible spot (it’s a wonder I still have any functioning organs left!).  In the end, Baby A (Austin) was crunched in a ball with his head on my bladder.  Baby B (Bassem) took up residence under my ribcage and kicked Austin in the head every 20 minutes or so.  It was like being in a kick-boxing match, with my insides as the stage!

Now as toddlers, the boys compete for food, toys, time, and attention.  They are always vying for the best toy, the best spot on the couch, in the car, on our laps….and so on.  There is no end to the haggling, whining, and one-upping each other.  Many attempts to individually engage one twin in an interesting activity usually results in the other twin making a bee-line for you like Pooh Bear to a honeycomb.  There is no such thing as a covert operation around here.

When the boys started developing clear personal boundaries for themselves, and regularly trying “one-up” each other, I knew it was time to start proactively treating them like “ones.”  By this I mean usually leaving the house with only one of the boys for some special one-on-one time.  Now, this may mean an activity as interesting as shopping at Target (HUGE entertainment value for Bassem), or cruising the aisles at LOWE’S (Austin’s favorite destination).  It may even be as simple as a private bath for Bassem (supervised by me), and water play in the kitchen sink for Austin (supervised by Larry).  Even just getting them in separate rooms is highly successful in decreasing the noise level, commotion, and nerve-grating squabbling that we must endure on a nearly constant basis.

Like magic, once removed from the influence of their other half, Austin and Bassem’s personalities completely change.  As a “one” they become observant, chatty, engaging, sweet, compliant, and helpful.  I thoroughly indulge in the hugs and kisses I get during my one-on-one time with each of the boys.  During these moments, I’m not worried about where the other one has run off too, or what trouble he’s causing.  The parent-child bonding is not interrupted by someone else desperately clinging to my legs screaming, “No, MY MOMMY!!!”

I often wonder how parents do it.  How do we bounce-back from the constant juggling act of work, chores, child rearing, shuttling kids around, getting food on the table, etc?  The things that require our time just never end….and neither do the constant and unpredictable ups and downs of managing sibling rivalry.  I wish I had a road map to guide me through the landmines that I face every day.  Avoid doing X at Y time- that will set Bassem off and then he’ll take it out on Austin.  Austin will scream and wail at the injustice of Bassem pushing him, and it will be all downhill from there. 

I know my imperfections in managing twin rivalry will come back to haunt me.  One day the boys will remind me how unfair it was that they went to time-out even though their brother “started it.”  They’ll complain that they had to take turns wearing the Spiderman shoes, or the Elmo pajamas, or that they got short-changed on their back rub at bedtime because their brother was screaming “Brack rob! My brack rob now!!”  But, they’ll also remember the good times- chasing each other around the house, throwing all their toys down the stairs, shampooing their hair with yogurt, feeding Jake fishy snacks, giving the bathroom rug a bath.  They have today, and always will, a best friend for life.  And even though I don’t think they will ever admit it, there’s not another person in this world that they’d rather join in time-out.

Twin-a-thon

Very good friends of ours are expecting their first baby in February.   As with most first pregnancies, “mom” is experiencing early contractions, that friendly reminder that life as you know it is about to change- forever.   As excited as I am about their new arrival, part of me is a little sad and jealous that we didn’t have the opportunity to experience new parenthood on the same “turf” that our friends will.

I try not to pull my twin card too much, but there does seem to be a distinct difference between managing “one” as compared to managing “two.”  The reality of being a parent of multiples hits you full-force a few weeks after you bring your babies home from the hospital.  We really had no idea what to expect, despite the fact that I had dragged us to every new parenting class I could find.  Around the time that we had our twins, we knew several other couples with newborns.  All of them had singletons.  All of them appeared to be reasonably well rested.  Each couple was totally enthralled with their baby, as if sleepless nights and the constant fire drill of feeding, burping, rocking, soothing, and changing was exactly what they had been put on this earth to do.  I was a tad mystified, to say the least.  I felt like we were just scraping by, with no real sense of how we were doing.  I wanted to know when the circus in our house was going to feel “natural,” or just plain get easier.  I often found myself wondering when taking a shower or going to the grocery store would become somewhat frequent activities.

When the boys were infants, Larry and I opted for the “on/off” strategy.  This meant you were either “on-duty” or “off-duty.”  Basically, whenever you were “on” you had both little guys at once, with no backup.  The strategy here was the other person could catch a few hours of uninterrupted sleep while the other one “worked.”  On the whole, the strategy was pretty effective, with one exception.  The whole process just broke down when you had two cranky, hungry babies, one set of breasts (or bottles, in Larry’s case), and just two arms.  I remember many nights putting myself to bed around 8pm and leaving Larry in the living room with two screaming little guys (and some very irritated pets).  Larry would be sitting on the sofa with a wailing baby on either side of him.  One would be face up fighting a pacifier (our kids never accepted pacifiers as a “soothing” technique).  The other baby would be face down on the sofa, getting burped.  Most nights there’d be bottles steaming in the warmers, half- mixed formula on the counter, something beeping in the microwave, and Mad Money blaring from the TV.  The ambiance was killer.  I’d usually go off to bed feeling guilty….for the 2 seconds it took me to zonk-out.  In about three hours, I’d be “on,” and it would be my turn to look like a half-crazed lunatic caring for two infants in the dead of the night.  

One of the unique things about twins is their inept ability to collaborate at a very early age.  Nearly from birth, Austin and Bassem have been on the same schedule.  Now, most parents think this is an absolute dream.  Wow, your kids eat at the same time?  Sleep at the same time?  How wonderful!  Well, no, actually, not so cool.  Have you ever tried to breastfeed two screaming babies at the same time?  Ever broke into a sweat trying to change two soggy diapers in record time so you don’t have to put on a new crib sheet for the third time in one night?  Managing infant twins is much like training for marathon.  Except you “train” every day, day after day, week after week, and month after month with no end in sight!  Maybe that’s why I took over a two-year hiatus from serious running.

Despite the struggle of learning to mother multiples, I still look back with a smile.  My most cherished memories from the early days was the twins 5am feedings.  I’d drag myself out of bed around 4:45am and quickly grab a cup of coffee.  Then I’d wake Bassem and let him nurse in peace while his brother slept.  Sitting in the rocker in their room, I’d look out the window and watch the sunrise.  It was a beautiful view, with the mist rising off the lake, and the pink-red sky rising up behind the trees.  Around 5:15am the first commuter train would roll by, headed to Boston.  I’d feel peaceful and warm, cuddling a nursing baby and indulging in his sweet baby scent while his brother slept quietly just across the room.  It was so opposite the total insanity I felt during most of my waking hours, managing two babies.  For a brief, wonderful, moment, I’d grasp what it was like to be completely and utterly enthralled with my baby, and feel like the luckiest mom in the world.

Morning Routines 101

Sometimes I'd really like to be a fly on the wall at other people's houses to observe their morning routine.  Is it anything like mine?  Is a hopelessly foggy head, morning breath, one missing slipper, Sesame Street, and a single cup of coffee reheated more than three times part of their morning gig?  I'm a process engineer by trade.  In English this means I analyze processes and design solutions that make them more efficient and effective.  It means I should have my personal routines together.  I should be organized, on-time, able to move to the ball.  For some reason my "engineering" capability goes into hibernation while on Mom-duty.

A good example of just how effective my morning routine can be is the quality of my shower experience.  Since we moved to Richmond I've been working in an office every day.  When we lived in Southborough, I worked from home.  My morning routine consisted of getting the kids dressed and fed, brewing coffee, loading the kids into Larry's car, and kissing everyone goodbye by 8am.  Then I would go upstairs, change from my pajamas into some comfortable lounge wear, and peacefully enjoy my coffee in front of the computer.

Fast forward to the Richmond routine.  Normally I hop in the shower around 6:30am, after entertaining Austin and trying, without much success, to drink a cup of coffee that's not lukewarm.  This week is a bit of an exception, as Larry is in Boston for work. So both bright-eyed and bushy-tailed boys are my responsibility at 6am.  This morning, in keeping with my schedule, I proceed to the shower room at 6:30am.  I get in the shower.  I shampoo my hair and enjoy a lovely cross breeze while the boys slide the shower doors back and forth in their tracks.  I get goose bumps despite cranking the heat dial all the way up.  I intervene by holding the shower doors in place with my thumb and left toe.  After consulting amongst themselves, the boys settle on to another form of entertainment- Klennex.  Both kids have a cold.  They wipe their noses (Good!), and then proceed to "wash" the shower doors with their snot rags (Nooooo!).  After finally getting the shampoo out of my hair, I release the shower doors.  They open immediately.  Wads of snotty tissues launch toward me and melt into the wet floor.  Just lovely.  I casually ask for the Klennex box, being very careful not to raise my voice, and set it on top of the shower caddy.

The boys are not even slightly discouraged.  The trashcan takes center stage. After waiting until about half of the trash is shewn about the bathroom, I request the trashcan.  It also joins me in the shower stall. I try desperately to prevent it from collecting pools of water by contorting my body into Yoga-like postures while simultaneously straining conditioner from my hair.  By the end of my invigorating, spa-like shower experience, I have amassed an interesting collection of objects, including: an empty toilet paper roll (don't ask about the TP), a toilet brush (Ewww!), my blackberry charger, several cosmetic containers, a towel, and the aforementioned objects.  Clearly, it is time to get to this show on the road.

A few hours later I'm at spin class.  I noticed the guy next to me staring at my legs.  Now, keep in mind this is the work gym, so no one should be looking at my legs.  Then I remembered my early morning shower, and horrified- looked down at my terribly neglected and unshaven legs.  Needless to say, I got those legs moving faster than fast!  I have Austin and Bassem to thank for one heck of a spin workout today :)

Mother In Training

So it's time to explain why my Blog is called Mother In Training.  Well, quite simply, it's because I consider myself "in training."  Each day is a brand new learning experience, chock full of surprises, frustrations, butterfly kisses, cuddles, ear-to-ear smiles, and more extreme frustrations that leave me wondering if I am going to lose my mind.  And so it goes with parenting...or learning to be a good parent, that is.  Dad always said that one of the greatest pleasures a parent could experience was watching their own kids have children.  He told me this numerous times while visiting when the twins were newborns, always with a smirk on his face.  At the time, I really didn't get his humor.  Aside from the extra 25lbs I was carting around, sore nipples, and feeling a tad harried from an endless number of sleepless nights, I was rather enjoying being a new mom.

All that changed when the boys got mobile, and vocal, and suddenly needed a whole lot more than my arms, a dry diaper, and milk.  Wow!  Just a few months after Dad passed away, I realized why he had sported such a huge, knowing smirk.  It was payback time, for all the testing, challenging, finagling, and high-decibel tantrums my sister and I had subjected my parents to in our youth.  Finally- I got it!

It's funny how obsolete parenting skills are.  Just when you think you've nailed how to deal with a specific, outrageous behavior, another one crops-up.  Like overnight.  Here's one that still a staple in our house- shouting matches in the car.  It usually starts-out innocently enough.  Usually on the way home from daycare (after a long day at work), Austin will point out that I'm his Mommy.  Alright, that's cool, I think.  Then Bassem will quickly counter with,  "No, MY Mommy."  A quick rebuttal from Austin, "NO MY MOMMY!!!!"- and you get the picture.

After exhausting my list of creative and fair solutions to this issue (which by the way, lasts for about 10 straight minutes on the ride home), I consulted Larry.  His very prompt response was, "Why don't you get some earplugs?"  As you would expect, this was not the solution I was looking for.  I have to admit I was hoping for more of a, "Hey, why don't we take turns torturing ourselves.  I'll pick up the boys from school a few days a week- we'll share this issue."  Of course I know that no one in their right mind would ever subject themselves to this cruel and unusual punishment....so my expectations were quite clearly out-of-line.

And yes, as you would expect, the screaming matches continued beyond this consultation.  Larry, after experiencing several screaming presentations on our way to and from the YMCA, implemented a very advanced solution.  Stop the car.  Wait until the screaming stops, then proceed to destination.  So, how did it work?  Quite well, actually.  But, this is only a really practical solution if you have the patience of a saint, and ooodles of time to get to the Yoga class that your already 5 minutes late for.

So, what did I do, you ask?  Well, I bought those earplugs.  Ahhhhhhh, Blissssss.......

My Favorite Place

I wanted to name my blog's web address "my favorite place," but the name was already taken.  Someone else was pretty quick to figure out that writing a blog really means "going to my favorite place."  If you enjoy writing, the mental and emotional release of putting what's on your mind to paper is a transforming process.  So I know this blog will quickly become My Favorite Place.

But alas, that is not why the title of this post is My Favorite Place.  No, the title comes from a very sweet and unexpected gift I received from my husband on Christmas.  A card.  Well, not just a card, some chocolate too, which he knows is my all-time favorite thing on earth, right up there with uninterrupted sleep and good coffee.  But back to the card.  The cover shows a black and white photo of 2 kids with their feet casually touching.  The kids are presumably lying on their tummies with their feet up in the air, careless and free.  The inside of the card reads, "My favorite place in all the world is next to you."

I was touched by this card because it gave me a much-needed boost of confidence at just the right time.  When you're married you know (or at least assume) that your spouse loves you.  Otherwise, why would they be slugging through the day to day challenge of juggling kids, work commitments, exercise schedules, laundry, cleaning, bills, pets, dinner preparations, baths- all while struggling against the desire to just finally do something that they feel like doing, for as long as they want?

This card gave me a vote of confidence that despite our harried lives, I'm still a person who is loved, appreciated, even sought-after.  Quite a blessing considering I had spent the weeks leading up to Christmas feeling like the Wicked Witch of the West.  Over Thanksgiving holiday we moved our kids, pets, and most valued possessions from Southborough, MA to Richmond, VA so that I could take a job working full time again.  After contracting part time for 6 months, juggling twins, and a Masters degree, it felt like the right move.  And the right move it has been, but not without some intense moments, and plenty of grouchiness all-round.  Although we had not expected the transition to be easy, it did take several more weeks than anticipated to get Austin and Bassem, who are 2.5, settled into a new school, me into an office environment, and Larry into a telecommuting gig.  Jake, our dog (now 12), also had major surgery to remove some large tumors (fortunately, not cancerous), and the cats let us know how they felt about being uprooted from Massachusetts by peeing on everything in sight.  To top things off, we learned that winter colds are alive and well in Virginia, AND, it snows here too!  Who would have thought?!?

All that aside, I am thrilled to be reminded that I have one of the best husbands that life can offer.  Even when I'm not "in my zone," which is pretty much any time things are somewhat disorganized, I am still someone my husband enjoys being with.  Good thing too- since we made a lifelong commitment!  In all seriousness, though, I know I have it good.  There are few couples who can weather the storm through big transitions like this, and still come out on top.  We are lucky to have each other.  Larry managing all of the big picture stuff, and me cleaning up all the little details- organizing us, our house, kids, and pets to no avail.  Hopefully, all for the greater good- at least, that's my intention :)