Do you ever hear parents use a nickname for their child and wonder how in the heck they came up with that? Well, I'm not sure if it's the sleep deprived connections his brain is currently making, but Andrew has started calling Barnes "Bumble." Yes, bumble, like a bee. And maybe it's because of my equally limited sanity, but I think it's adorable.
Andrew and I both felt strongly that we wanted to name our children what they would be called. Barnes and Frances will always be Barnes and Frances to us. But nicknames have inevitably started to creep in. Frances gets a "Frannie" or a "Frannie-kins" every once in a while, and we very often refer to Barnes as "B." From B, Andrew began using Bumble Bee, and he has now shortened it to just Bumble. Bumble is an appropriate nickname for a few reasons...first because it's adorable, just like our little B. Second, B tends to "bumble" around a bit more than his sister.
So today my little B is dressed in his yellow onesie, ready to bumble around on this dreary Monday. I just hope his buzzing takes sleep breaks today!
Monday, November 14, 2011
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
melting
My heart is literally singing...my sweet baby girl has been smiling at me all morning! We have gotten a few smiles out of her brother, but she is our serious baby. She always seems to be pondering the meaning of life or concentrating on how best to fix our economy. This morning, though, she warmed my soul with smile after smile. And these were not just reflex smiles--they were full out, mouth open, responsive grins. Nothing is more beautiful than a happy baby!
Saturday, November 5, 2011
an ugly little monster
Mommy guilt is not a myth. It's real, and it plagues conscientious mothers everywhere. This week it has reared its ugly head in our home.
As I've mentioned before, my children will not nurse, so I pump several times a day to ensure that they get the best nutrition possible. Over the past few weeks, the twins' consumption has caught up to and sometimes surpassed my production. I found myself dipping into our frozen supply occassionally and feared that the end of exclusive breast milk was near.
On Tuesday we had our two-month check-up, and I discussed this situation with their pediatrician. Her recommendation? Begin supplementing with formula once a day now so that 1) their eventual transition to formula will be gradual and 2) we can stretch my breast milk out as long as possible so that the babies are still receiving primarily breast milk for many more weeks/months. So on Wednesday, their 10 week birthday, I prepared my first formula. For their goodnight bottle, each twin received 2 ounces of formula mixed with their milk. As I poured the powder in, I stood in my kitchen and cried. I had failed.
The crazy thing is that I have never been that obsessed with breastfeeding. Yes, I believe that breast milk is best, but I also know that children thrive on formula as well. Before the twins were born, I had taken it as a given that we would supplement their diet with formula. So why all the tears this week? Why the agony over beginning to replace approximately 1/12th of their diet with formula? Mommy guilt. An ugly, unwelcome visitor.
What I find ugliest about mommy guilt is that, too often, it is brought about and perpetuated by other mommies. Women have a natural tendency to compete, and nowhere is this more apparent than in child-rearing. Moms who chose natural labor scoff at moms who opted for pain medication. Moms who breastfed well past the recommended one-year are quick to tell their story, while moms for whom nursing didn't work out shyly linger in the corner. Moms whose children sat/walked/talked early boast of their little one's accomplishments, while moms who are worried that their sweet child might be a bit behind stay quiet. Moms who stay at home make working moms feel guilty; working moms make stay-at-home moms feel like they must prove their worth. Our best support network is unfortunately too often the source of our anxiety.
For the immediate future I will continue to pump as often as possible, but also continue to give the twins some formula each day. I will work through my formula guilt, supported by the women who have sweetly and honestly shared their own formula stories with me.
As I've mentioned before, my children will not nurse, so I pump several times a day to ensure that they get the best nutrition possible. Over the past few weeks, the twins' consumption has caught up to and sometimes surpassed my production. I found myself dipping into our frozen supply occassionally and feared that the end of exclusive breast milk was near.
On Tuesday we had our two-month check-up, and I discussed this situation with their pediatrician. Her recommendation? Begin supplementing with formula once a day now so that 1) their eventual transition to formula will be gradual and 2) we can stretch my breast milk out as long as possible so that the babies are still receiving primarily breast milk for many more weeks/months. So on Wednesday, their 10 week birthday, I prepared my first formula. For their goodnight bottle, each twin received 2 ounces of formula mixed with their milk. As I poured the powder in, I stood in my kitchen and cried. I had failed.
The crazy thing is that I have never been that obsessed with breastfeeding. Yes, I believe that breast milk is best, but I also know that children thrive on formula as well. Before the twins were born, I had taken it as a given that we would supplement their diet with formula. So why all the tears this week? Why the agony over beginning to replace approximately 1/12th of their diet with formula? Mommy guilt. An ugly, unwelcome visitor.
What I find ugliest about mommy guilt is that, too often, it is brought about and perpetuated by other mommies. Women have a natural tendency to compete, and nowhere is this more apparent than in child-rearing. Moms who chose natural labor scoff at moms who opted for pain medication. Moms who breastfed well past the recommended one-year are quick to tell their story, while moms for whom nursing didn't work out shyly linger in the corner. Moms whose children sat/walked/talked early boast of their little one's accomplishments, while moms who are worried that their sweet child might be a bit behind stay quiet. Moms who stay at home make working moms feel guilty; working moms make stay-at-home moms feel like they must prove their worth. Our best support network is unfortunately too often the source of our anxiety.
For the immediate future I will continue to pump as often as possible, but also continue to give the twins some formula each day. I will work through my formula guilt, supported by the women who have sweetly and honestly shared their own formula stories with me.
Monday, October 31, 2011
faithful provision
Yesterday, for the first time, we took our little munchkins to mass. Andrew was doing the second reading, and it just felt like time. I was terribly nervous, mostly due to the germs they could be exposed to. We snuck in, sat in the back, and tried to avoid letting anyone touch the babes. Thankfully, it went off without a hitch. Andrew held Barnes and I held Frances for most of the service, and we were able to worship God together as a family unit...the way it was intended to be.
Over the past year, I've had my share of ups and downs with both my faith and the Catholic church, which I call home. When we couldn't maintain a pregnancy and seemed to be facing loss after loss, it was hard for me to sing of God's goodness. I felt like we were being punished, and I was angry that God was letting us go through such pain. As it became clear that our children would be conceived through IVF (if at all), my views on my church started to get more complicated. The Catholic church teaches that IVF is wrong, yet it also teaches the importance of family. Andrew and I prayed over our situation, spoke with authorities both in the church and in the medical field, and made the decision that we felt was right. We found our own peace within the contradiction of a Catholic doing IVF, though it was far from easy at times.
As I sat in the back row yesterday cuddling our daughter and catching glimpses of Andrew holding our son, I was overwhelmed by how God truly does provide. It often doesn't look the way we thought it would, and unfortunately there is no way to opt out of the hard times, but God's faithfulness is real. It is embodied by my loyal, loving husband who always looks for the bright side; by my precious twins; by a church family and priest who are a little different but more accepting than any other Catholic community I can imagine. Yesterday, as I received the Eucharist with Frances in my arms, I was flooded with thankfulness for God's faithful provision.
I can't say that I remember which songs were sung or exactly what the homily was about, but I know that I will always remember our first mass as a family.
Over the past year, I've had my share of ups and downs with both my faith and the Catholic church, which I call home. When we couldn't maintain a pregnancy and seemed to be facing loss after loss, it was hard for me to sing of God's goodness. I felt like we were being punished, and I was angry that God was letting us go through such pain. As it became clear that our children would be conceived through IVF (if at all), my views on my church started to get more complicated. The Catholic church teaches that IVF is wrong, yet it also teaches the importance of family. Andrew and I prayed over our situation, spoke with authorities both in the church and in the medical field, and made the decision that we felt was right. We found our own peace within the contradiction of a Catholic doing IVF, though it was far from easy at times.
As I sat in the back row yesterday cuddling our daughter and catching glimpses of Andrew holding our son, I was overwhelmed by how God truly does provide. It often doesn't look the way we thought it would, and unfortunately there is no way to opt out of the hard times, but God's faithfulness is real. It is embodied by my loyal, loving husband who always looks for the bright side; by my precious twins; by a church family and priest who are a little different but more accepting than any other Catholic community I can imagine. Yesterday, as I received the Eucharist with Frances in my arms, I was flooded with thankfulness for God's faithful provision.
I can't say that I remember which songs were sung or exactly what the homily was about, but I know that I will always remember our first mass as a family.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
life by the numbers....
Our little miracles turned two months old on Monday, and life just continues to get more and more interesting. What are our lives like with two spunky two-month-olds? Here's a little peek into an average day:
- 40 bottles washed
- 12-14 bottles made
- 12-14 bottles fed
- 20 burping sessions
- 18-22 diapers changed
- 4-6 faces washed
- 3 pacifiers replaced (usually because Stella found one)
- 7 pumping sessions
- pump supplies washed 8 times
- 4 nighttime feedings
- 2-4 times when both babies are screaming at the same time
- 2-6 spit ups cleaned
- adult conversation- little to none
- a million kisses stolen
- more smiles and laughs than we ever thought possible (at least on most days....)
Sunday, October 23, 2011
sunday funday
We've had a fun, busy weekend, and we thought we'd share a few pictures with everyone to show what our little lives are filled with these days. Thanks for following our story!
Love-
Barnes & Frances
We had lots of playtime:
Sometimes we do the exact same thing at the exact same time and mom is reminded that we are twins.
We took pictures outside:
Dad took us on our first campus tour:
We went to another pumpkin patch...mom is really excited about Halloween:
Which one should we pick?
Check out my sticker!
We played in the laundry:
And now we're exhausted:
Love-
Barnes & Frances
We had lots of playtime:
Sometimes we do the exact same thing at the exact same time and mom is reminded that we are twins.We took pictures outside:
Dad took us on our first campus tour:
We went to another pumpkin patch...mom is really excited about Halloween:
Which one should we pick?
Check out my sticker!We played in the laundry:
And now we're exhausted:
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