We don’t know what the future will bring, so I’m taking a trip back in time…
This was written about 4 months after the boys were born:
So…it’s been over week since we moved into our new home. The boys are getting acclimated. It’s nice here and I think they both like the apartment and all the sunlight it receives. They like their nanny, so that’s good too. They are both getting bigger daily and learning new things. Baby clothes are like Condoms…you never get to wear them twice. It’s really amazing.
Sometimes when they are both smiling at the same time it’s like they are entering some sort of pageant. It’s rare, but very rewarding.
I usually get home from work around 5:30 or 5:45. That’s not because that’s when I am done with work, but it’s because our nanny works till 6. Usually I walk in the door and someone, either my wife or our Nanny hand me either J or K. Actually I am allowed to take off my shoes and jacket and quickly throw some almonds or peanuts into my mouth (honey roasted of course). Sustenance…it’s very important!!
It so happens that lucky me, 6pm is right around when their witching hour starts. What is the witching hour you ask? Well, the witching hour is the time of day where for no reason the babies are fussy and cry and it’s really hard to get them to calm down. We have our techniques to combat the dreaded witching hour, and sometimes they work but most times they don’t.
Two things:
1. The witching HOUR is by no means limited to only an hour.
2. The good thing is that J and K have the same witching hour. The bad thing is that J and K have the same witching hour.
So…last Tuesday I get home and the nanny exits. My wife has a doctor follow up appointment, so she exits. It’s like watching Aslan leave Narnia…the protection is gone. Now the fun begins for J and K. Door closes, and I sit down with J. K starts to cry. Whimpering would be ok…but he just goes straight into full blown crying. Taking his lungs for a road test I suppose. I put J down, and he seems fine, so I grab K, hum in his ear and rock him into calmness. He is calm and then J must think to himself: ‘what K is getting looks like fun’. He jumps into a full force, hand clenched, tears rolling cry. I put K down on the pillow, grab the Baby Bjorn, clamp it on, and pop J into it. He’s strapped in, and finally his wails turn into whimpers. It’s quiet, but not for more than 45 seconds. K goes off. He just poohed. I clean K up. They say it’s a smell only a mother could love…that’s definitely true, because this father thinks it’s where foul stench goes to die.
Ok, it’s all good. They are both calm now and sleeping.
I grab my computer, turn it on, and pop open a Blue Moon. Take a sip…it’s good. A few more of these and I’ll be calm too (or maybe like a twelve pack). I sit down, and I’ve barely hit the sofa when J starts at the top of his lungs, and then right behind him goes K. It’s too loud for me to ignore…I grab J in one arm, go to K grab him in the other – it takes practice, but you can actually learn how to pick up a baby with only one arm.
I walk with them, sit down on the rocking chair and rock with them. At this point, all three of us are crying!! They cry for five minutes, I guess that means I need to make their milk. Just then my wife enters, she comes to the room. I don’t even say hi, I just say “MILK”. We take one each, feed them, change them, put them to bed. It takes about an hour and finally they are down for the night. I go to our room, change my clothes. My wife comes in and asks “what do you want to do for dinner”. Too late, I am already fast asleep.
I guess I’ll finish my beer tomorrow!
mydarlingdevils 