A Wild Encounter

We have a Zoo pass. We haven't used it in six months, but we have a Zoo pass and decided to use it this beautiful holiday Monday. Along with everyone else who's felt cooped up this winter, but that's beside the point.

We went as a family with the kids in the after and invited my dad along as well. We had fun reacquainting ourselves with the gorillas and the penguins. It turns out though, that Austin has become wary of the large animals and wanted nothing to do with the hippos and giraffes - he just kept running back to the snakes! We got him to be happy with the lions and zebras, though, and we were set for the rest of the visit.

I really write this post for one reason: The Tiger. We had quite the event with the The Tiger today, although the boys had no idea and I only caught the last minute on video. I will do my best to recount:

We came up the the tiger enclosure and went around the north side. I was pushing Madden in the stroller as Austin was helping. Lincoln was on my dad's shoulders and Miles was walking along side us. It was Miles who spotted The Tiger in the back corner, just relaxing. I walked back with Austin to point out that The Tiger was near, and was looking at him, saying "hello". "That's no hello" comments Miles, and we continue on our way. Lincoln and Granddad are behind us observing at their own pace and we all leisurly walk around the enclosure, a little disappointed that we only see one tiger out today.  Lincoln was discovering that falling and laying on the ground was amusing and at one point started licking a wet spot. All he had to do was ask for water, I brought plenty.

As we come around to the southeast side of the the enclosure there is a large puddle that Austin had discovered and both he and Lincoln started running through it, splashing muddy water from the melting snow all around them. I stood by and was amused as I watched my kids enjoy the spoils of the warm weather.

The next thing I hear is "He's hungry, he's coming this way" from Miles. I look up, and I see The Tiger walking slowly in a crouch. I can see his shoulder blades moving gracefully, purposfully with his every steps as he eyes the playful young in the short distance. Slowly he takes a few steps more, shrinking in the ground. He's getting ready for a pounce! I can't believe it, what behaviour to witness! The twins, not knowing that they're gleeful cries had brought forth the large carnivorous beast, continue playing and splashing in the water.

All of a sudden, The Tiger bounds forward with quick, graceful movements as he crosses to the exterior of the enclosure and down the gated wall toward the raucous. He slows down and quietly, gently peers around the corner of the cement block, for which I am so grateful. He observes his prey running back and forth, back and forth, his ears pinned back. He moves out from the behind the cement block and paces. He paces right along side the tempting snack, not letting them out of sight.

Lincoln runs, splashing, playing to his heart's desire, when suddenly the toe of his boot catches the cement and he falls, front first right into the puddle that was his friend. This is it! The Tiger stops his pacing right in front the fallen and with eyes so keen and determined, stares at him, willing him to come closer, to somehow slip through the steel that separates them so he could have a taste. Much to his disappointment, Lincoln was picked up and he continued running, not realizing the danger that was only feet away. The Tiger continues his tracking. He follows the splashes back and forth, back and forth until Lincoln once again falls and is swept up by his father. But wait, there is another. Austin continues to play and run and The Tiger follows. Austin runs down the path, away from the puddle, away from me, as he explores his environment and The Tiger follows. Realizing this will not be his day to test his hunting instincts and stretch his muscles, The Tiger goes off to lie down, defeated by the steel fence that protects us, daydreaming of the delicious meal that danced before him.

My Journey to Labour Part II - the finale

Hello world! Guess what? I wanted to have a natural birth experience, and I DID! It feels so great! I'm going to start out with the big details everyone wants to know, then I'm going to dive into the actual experience of it all, if you care to keep reading. WARNING: I'm not really one to hold back, so if you don't want to know, stop reading where you're comfortable.

Baby details: Baby 3 (yes that's right, still no name) was born 4:17am, Aug 30 at the Foothills Hospital in Calgary. Apgar score: 9/9. 7lbs 2oz, 20 1/4" long, absolutely perfect. No molding to the head, forehead left unbruised, just his nose was a little smooshed, but that's all worked out and he's the most beautiful baby in the world. I dare you to defy me.

Labour details: 10:10pm Thursday night my water broke, contractions started about 15 minutes later. Once I started counting them, they were a minute to a minute and half long, and a minute or two apart. We checked into the hospital at 1:10am, they checked me and I was 9cm dilated, so off we go to the delivery room! I started pushing at 2:45am and he was born at 4:17am. Yup, that was fast!

Now for the nitty gritty - proceed at your own risk.

First of all, I have to give a big shout out to Rachael who writes the blog Midwife Thinking, and Ina May Gaskin for publishing her books on midwifery and natural birth that included several personal stories of people she's assisted to give birth. I felt like I really knew how I wanted things to go and how I could get them. And a huge thank you to Alberta Health and FMC for supporting such natural experiences.

It's been said that you have no idea what labour and birth is like until you've actually done it, and I have to agree! Through all the stories I've read, I thought I was prepared and knew what to expect. Yes, the birth of my son went as planned, but not as expected! Allow me to elaborate.

I thought that my labour may start with my water breaking, because that what happened with my twins. I didn't know for sure, but I had pads hiding all over the place just in case! But whether my labour started on its own or with my water breaking, I was sure it would be a long process with this being my first time in labour (I had a c-section within 6 hours of my water breaking before, I didn't feel one contraction)

So there were a few last minute things we still needed to get done: put the car seat in the car, get the baby clothes out and the baby bag ready and Miles needed to get his support person's bag ready. I figured these things could get done during early labour, if they weren't already. I'd be able to have a shower, pack some make-up, eat a meal high in carbs so I'd have my energy, etc.

So when my water broke, Miles says "okay, now what?" I give him instructions to put the seat the car, get his bag ready, I needed to grab the baby clothes and get that bag ready. "Let's get everything ready, but I want to go to sleep because who knows how long before this thing gets started and how long it will take, so I'll get my stuff ready, and go to bed." Fine, sounds like a plan. After all, a friend of mine just recently had a baby where it took her 24hrs to go into labour after her water broke, and this was her third child! Why would I be much different? Well folks, because I'm different, that's why! Everyone's bodies react differently, there are no comparisons to be made.

I'm getting the baby's clothes together, stopping every now and then to breathe through contractions. Which, by the way, are exactly like menstrual cramps. I expected my whole belly to hurt, but nope, just down low. Then they got harder and I needed to breathe more with each one. They were coming closer together than expected as well. I wasn't keeping track of the minutes, but it was pretty frequent.

Let me just say, that against medical advisement, I was never planning on going to the hospital right when my water broke. Because I'd had a caesarean before, they wanted to monitor me from the get-go, whether my water broke, or my contractions started getting to be 7 minutes apart. I had decided the hospital was not where I wanted to labour, so I'd go in when they were 5 minutes apart (maybe even less!) to avoid being strapped to monitors and IVs and having my movements limited. Lying still is not a way to deal with contractions!

Miles is upstairs with me at this point, and I ask him to track my pains. For about 10 minutes they were a minute to a minute and half long, with a minute or two in between. And it wasn't letting up. But I still wanted to shower. The shower turned into a bath. Have you ever heard of Orgasmic Birth? Sounds like a nice concept, right? Miles comes into the bathroom to tell me I sound like I'm having a good time. Apparently labour sounds and love making sounds can be interchangeable. I didn't laugh. He left to continue getting ready, I stayed right where I was breathing and keeping my lips loose. This is a concept from Ina May. The muscles in your mouth mirror the muscle that is your cervix. If your mouth is tight with pain and concentration, the cervix will remain tight. If you loosen your mouth muscles by keeping your jaw slack, blowing zerberts (or raspberries as she calls them) your cervix will open faster. So far, I have no reason to think this isn't what moved me along so quickly.

The bath was terrible. It was way too narrow for me to get into a comfortable position. I wanted out, but I couldn't move on my own. When Miles got back upstairs, I said I was going to get out and we needed to go to the hospital. There's no way I was going be sleeping through this, and contractions were not letting up. This is happening now. Once I got out of the bath, I realized that the water was, in fact, useful!

I'm going to add that after my first few contractions, I started puking. I heaved with one. Up came my dinner with the next. More puking - oh look! There's my lunch. Have you ever worked out so hard you've thrown up? That what it was like, and as if the contractions of my lower abdomen weren't enough to think about, there goes my stomach, just to even things out. Thanks a lot! Then I started feeling so weak. Who can do work like this on an empty stomach?? I think by the time we got to the hospital the nausea was gone, but it was terrible while it was there.

I will admit that I thought about pain relief. About 3 or 4 contractions in, I thought "yup, I can totally see the value in the epidural!" and "where the heck is this oxytocin and endorphins that are supposed to counter act this pain? This is REDICULOUS!" They say that the release of the aforementioned hormones help with the pain relief and that as the pain increases, the more hormones are released making it physically possible to withstand the pain without medication. So where were mine?? My conclusion is that because I got going so hard and fast, I had to wait for my hormones to kick in. And they did. Once Miles was around to help me concentrate on breathing and I could grab on to him, I didn't think about pain relief again.

I had about three or four contractions in the van, which SUCKED because you're supposed to be strapped in and in your seat and blah, blah, BLAH. But the nice thing about traveling in the middle of the night is that there is NO traffic. Really, we were at the hospital before I knew it. Had a contraction in the elevator as we were going to Unit 51 - Labour and Delivery, and had the thought of being stuck and delivering there. Of course that didn't happen, but I had to think it, right?

As we check into the hospital, it's a good thing I've had my Alberta Health Care number memorized since high school as I left my wallet in the car. I stand there and breathe through a contraction as the admitting nurse looks at me and says "yes, I'd say you're in labour". Well, thank you! I'm so glad we agree. Lets get me into triage, yes?

So in we go and another nurse is helping us out. "Is there any reason to think your water has broken?" "yes, I've soaked, like, 5 pads in the last three hours." So of course they have to 'test' to 'confirm' the amniotic fluid. Some things just seem unnecessary, no? Then she wants to check my cervix. I'm going to tell you that this is one part I had been dreading. One of the reasons I didn't want to spend too much time in the hospital. I had my cervix check once with the twins around 26 weeks, and it was aweful. The doc then told me that if I had my ultrasounds the day I went in for my checkups (which was every two weeks with twins) he wouldn't have to manually check my cervix. Done! No one ever checked my cervix again. Even at the appointment I had the Monday right before I delivered, they offered to check then, or wait until next week. Next week is fine, thank you! But I knew I couldn't avoid being checked upon admittance, there goes the nurse, jelly ready and WAIT! I'm having a contraction, please don't touch me! Okay, you can go ahead. Ugh. Worst experience ever. Seriously, she was so far up there, it seemed like she was up to her elbow. She said the cervix was really far back. Good, bad? I don't know. But out she crawls with the news that I'm 9cm dilated. Hallelujah! Maybe I can get away with just one more check to confirm 10 and you can get out of my business. "9cm, we have to move fast and get you into a delivery room. Can you sit in a wheelchair?" Umm, I don't think I'm moving. So off we go in the bed.

I slide over to the bed that's in the delivery room. "Hi I'm Pat, I'll be your nurse" We get passed all the pleasantries, I'm sure I was being very rude as I scrunched my face in pain, turned into Miles and held on for dear life. Oh yes, and breathed. (Turns out my position of choice was to grab him around the neck and shoulders and squeeze. My triceps are still sore as I stretch them out today). "Do you want any pain relief, we can give you nitrous oxide?" "No, thank you" "Okay. Any requests?" I had wanted dim lights, but that was already done. "Immediate skin to skin, delayed cord clamping and I want to deliver on my side or squatting" "Sure, we can do that" in her calm reassuring voice. I liked Pat. No fighting with the docs about what I wanted? Oh how nice!! They put in my IV (in case things went south and I had to get to the OR fast, I needed to be prepped) and strapped the fetal monitors to me. No choice in that for a VBAC. If there are any signs of distress, it could mean uteran rupture (my scar separates) and off to surgery we go and the doctors are lifesaving heroes.

The contractions continue. I needed to tell them if I felt like pushing, then they'd come check my dilation again to confirm.  A couple of times I felt like crying. If I lost concentration for a moment, all hell broke loose and I would scream out. Miles was really good at getting me back under control. My rock, he is. He brought out the labour plan and asked if there was anything on it we needed to discuss. I did a quick read through and nope, we're too far along for anything like aromatherapy, music, humor and thoughts of "this isn't pain, just an interesting experience I need to embrace". He did rub my back once in a while and that felt good. I'm sure if I knew what to ask for, or if someone knew what they were doing it would have been great relief, but at the time I just wanted to get this business over with. These were all lovely ideas for early labour, which I had completely bypassed, and if we were going to hanging out in the hospital for a few hours, which was not likely at all at this point.

"Push, I feel like pushing" "okay, let's check you out" Again, an absolutely lovely and enjoyable experience, although to be honest, I don't remember it as vividly as the one an hour and a half before. Yes, 10cm. "I'll tell the doctor, and push when you feel like it." So I did. Or so I thought. I kept thinking that if I kept my jaw slack and breathed through it, it would keep things loose and easy. "Close your mouth, you're letting too much energy out of your mouth when you need to push. If you feel like you need to poo, that's exactly right, go with that" Yes, I had heard it before, but for some reason I thought that was at the end. You want me to poop my baby? Already then, here we go. Weirdest sensation ever. It felt like NOTHING was happening! I imagined I would feel him moving through the canal, I thought I would feel like I was pushing something out, but as I was pushing there was NO relief. No satisfaction of having just had a bowel movement. Eventually, it got to the point where in between pushing, I couldn't comfortably put my legs down because there was SOMETHING IN THE WAY! A big mass just sitting in my pelvis. So weird. My this time, the contractions didn't hurt anymore, my belly was soft and all my energy was being put into pushing. Have you ever pushed against an immovable boulder? Well neither have I, but that's the only comparison I can think of. You're pushing, pushing, pushing, with no sense of satisfaction. Is anything even happening or am I just going through this exercise for your sadistic pleasure? This is where the real work came in. Active labour: an exercise in pain management and tolerance. Pushing? That's work! That's where it's accurately called labour. 

I could feel something different now. I felt at the end of each push a resistance. Something pushing back. I'm pretty sure that's my perineum. It does NOT want to let this baby out. Okay, picture something round and wide. Relax, let's get this baby out of here. Nope, that didn't work. Okay, push! "Hold your breath when you push, the baby's doing great, he's happy, let's get this going." "I'm glad somebody's happy!" See that? I can do humor.

My back is really starting to hurt. I don't know if it was back labour or not, I figured those muscles were engaging to help me push and they were getting tired. Nothing I'm gunna do about it now, let's go. The doc and the resident are now in. Getting a warm cloth on my perineum to avoid tearing. "There's going to be a point when you're going to have to do little pushes to avoid tearing, I'll tell you when that is." Okay. By this point I had gone from my left side, so my right side, into squatting and holding the bar, nothing was relieving this back pain. Oh it hurt! That's what I wanted drugs for. It was stopping me from pushing longer and more frequently. It's really the only pain I ever complained about "ooow, my back!" "Okay, let's get this baby out, let's go. He's still doing well, and so are you. Push!"

You've heard of the Ring of Fire, right? Where your perineum is stretching and it burns? Ya. That's aptly named for sure. I think that's the only sensation I remotely got accurate in my head. So I was yelling at the end of a push and Miles had to get loud so I could hear him say "Stop pushing!" and I had to do light pushes from there. That's hard! I just envisioned this head coming out, and if I just did one more great big push it would all be done, but no, I had to sit there and wait while I stretched. Wonderful! But at this point they told me to reach down and feel the head. A tiny little piece was bulging out, and it was squishy. So weird. I kept pushing and yelling through the ring of fire. Miles said I was crazy - like the Hulk.

A few more pushes and out came the head. I had finally settled on pushing on my back (which I wasn't planning on, but hey) so after his head was coming out I could look down and see him. He was blue, had some blood him and the white vernix and he started muffling out his cry right away. A couple more pushes and out came the body. Ow! What was that? He was kicking me still on his way out! One more push and out he came, right up onto my chest, absolutely beautiful. He was crying and breathing as the nurse was wiping the blood off with the towel. The doctor confirmed that yes, I had second degree tears and needed to be stitched up.

But I was so happy. So happy that he was strong enough to be born naturally, so happy that he was healthy and was crying. Clearing his lungs and spitting up the fluid that they didn't have to do any suctioning. And the nurses were completely happy letting me hold him for as long as I wanted before they did their assessments.

Except for the tear, everything went as planned, and let's be honest, that was more a hope than a plan anyway. But expectations? The experience was completely different than anything I had envisioned. Not something I loved in the moment by any means, but I was so proud that I could do it, I was grateful it was fast, and so so happy that my wishes were met and my little boy was so strong. Which I knew, because he's been kicking strong and fierce for months on end. So in the end, yes, it was wonderful, yes it was hard work and yes it was worth it, and I would absolutely do it again. Maybe a little bit better next time now that I know really what things feel like.

Recovery and nursing were going so well that they even let us leave that night, so we were on our way home at 7:30pm. For not having a midwife like I had hoped, I really don't think anything could have gone any better.

I Am Woman.

PS Miles has all the pictures, though we didn't take many. I'll add them later.

My Journey to Labor - Part I

Well, I'm on my third child and I'm preparing for a brand new labor experience. My first two kids were twins born by cesarean, and you can read about that experience here if you're interested.

Even while pregant with Austin and Lincoln, I was researching labor and epidurals and c-sections and the whole bit. So far I had come to the conclusion that I did not want to be induced (due to a higher rate of ending in surgery than with spontaneous labor) and I certainly wanted to avoid pain medication unless it was absolutely necessary (and with surgery, it is!) My reason for this was that what I found during my research indicated the medication will come to me, numbing my pain (and therefore my experience), could potentially slow down labor - leading to surgery - and also travel through the placentas to my babies. The longer I'm on meds, the more exposed my babies were.  Druging my babies could result in fetal distress, pointing us down the path to emergency surgery, and will most certainly make them groggy, unable to latch and nurse right away. A baby's metabolism doesn't burn the medication as quickly as an adult's, so the effects would last longer. I also read a study, admitedly it wasn't super scientific in it's approach, but the conclusion was that people who were born while the mother underwent an epidural were more likely to have drug addictions later in life. As I said, it wasn't conclusive, it was a study looking back, not following a subject forward and data could easily be skewed, but it still wasn't a risk I was willing to take.

Well, turns out our only option was to book a c-section. It was obvious that Austin was breach (who would have come out first) and wasn't about to flip, hence the surgery. So my research stopped on the labor front and I started asking about cesareans. I felt better knowing that with a planned c-section, the time you're on medication is shorter so less time for the babies to be exposed. Okay, I can deal with that. While I still had to grieve the loss of this amazing womanly experience of pushing my children into the world, I was grateful I was given the time to come to terms with it before it happened in an emergency situation, which I could only imagine would be so much more traumatic.

I'm going to side-bar for a second on a little rant. As I was trying to explain to my husband the grief I felt over losing the experience of labor I really wanted to participate in, he said "all that matters is that the babies are born healthy". You may have heard this statement before, and I'm sure it's not the last time. Although the healthy outcome of the child and the mother are the two paramount goals, unquestionably, statements such as these minimize the fact that there is more than just the baby involved. Here's my analogy: I've spent the last 8 months training, eating right, exercising, doing everything I could to provide the best possible outcome for my team. Gameday comes, I suffer an injury and am forced to sit on the sidelines while the rest of my team does the work. We win. Baby comes out, all is good with the world. Yes, I'm happy for my team, and the resulting win, but I can't help wishing I was there in the final drive that made the touchdown so the victory could also be mine personally, as well as with the team. I did all the lead up work, and here the doctors come in at the last minute and get all the glory for my hard work and diligence. I wanted to hurt and sweat and cry out in pain to earn my victory, not sit on the sidelines while it was given to me. Make any sense?

So here I am, two years later with only one baby inside me, with a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) on the horizon. So here I go, researching labor again, starting where I left off last time. To help you understand my aversion to medication and my pull toward the natural processes of life, let me just tell you that I was raised in a home where preventative measures to health were taken very seriously: my mom gave us a handful of herbs and vitamin supplements daily. Our cough and cold medicine was Garlic Syrup (a discusting concoction that I'm sure just scared the germs away), if you're sick you lay in bed, drink tea and soup broth and only if you're dying will I take you to the doctor.  These attitudes have stayed with me and I only take pain meds if I know what pain they're managing (ie menstrual cramps) and then only if it's unmanageable. Basically, it takes convincing for me to put foreign, manmade, medical substances into my body.

So here are some of the things I plan on using for pain management and making a comfortable environment during labor:

• massage
• walking, moving about
• aromatherapy
• thought control/focus/visualisation
• minimal distractions
• dark lighting (if at all possible in a hospital setting)
• music
• cuddling

Also reading about labor and the way it's progressed over the years from the point of view of a midwife (www.midwifethinking.com), I've learned that there are a lot of procedures and practices that happen in a hospital that aren't necessary and potentially harmful, such as cord clamping, taking the baby to do the washing and assessments before Mom sees him, and birthing on your back (how on earth can the tailbone flex back to open the birthcanal if there's a bed in the way?). So I'm armed with some information and questions to discuss with my doctors and nurses so I can get as much of a natural experience as possible. I was even watching some birthing videos and you would ask "are you crazy?" "are you scared?" and no, I'm excited!!

The what you say? Miles told me yesterday I was backward. Not insultingly or anything, but definitely an anomolly. Allow me to explain myself: we, as women, have this amazing gift and opportunity. We are the carriers of life. Life is planted and grows within us. What a blessing!! It is so neat to see and feel the life grow and move within me. Strange, to feel my organs being poked and proded from the inside. Sometimes and leg will extend and a foot slides down my insides like batons on a xylophone. Sometimes a nerve near my hip gets punched and my leg will tingle. Watching the roll of an elbow or a butt stick out creating a triangular looking belly is so fascinating. I'm glad I'm the one who gets to experience this miracle grow - every little bit of it.

When labor begins, oxytocin is realeased, creating contractions moving the baby down, dialating the cervix. Oxytocin is an amazing hormone. It's excreted during love making, labor and nursing. Coincidence? I think not. It's called the 'love hormone'. When you've loved someone for a long time, that's oxytocin at work, and boy is it ever good! Oxytocin is what helps in the bonding experience with your baby once it's born. Being induced with a synthecized substitute, such as Pitocin, makes the contractions happen, but replaces the output of oxytocin and interupts the bonding. I can tell you from my own experience that my boys were taken from me via c-section, went straight to NICU and I to recovery. When I woke up the next day, I could have packed up and gone home and went on with my life as if nothing had happened - it was so surreal. Those two weeks being able to just hold my babies in the hospital with no other responsibilities but to love them were amazing and so good for all of us. So I'm excited to feel and participate in all the amazing happenings within my body to bring this life forward and to love him with every fiber I have to give. I asked Miles if he believes I can do this, and his reply: "you put up with me, you can do anything" :)

Once he's born, I want the cord to be left alone. That's 30% of the baby's blood you cut off! Please don't make him anemic. And if there's a delay in breathing, he's still getting enough oxygen from the placenta to compensate. You cut the cord, then you have to go to other interventions, having the baby torn from my arms to get him breathing. Keep him attached, and he can take a minute to get his bearings, laying there on my chest, hearing my voice, being comforted. I think I'd be a little shocked, too, just having burst from water to air through an itty bitty tunnel, everything I knew and understood being taken away from me, never to go back. I might hold my breath, too, bracing for the unknown. To that end, suctioning offers no benefit, either, whether or not meconium was in the water. So just give me my baby and leave him alone. You can take him and clean him after he's eaten, and knows there is a safe comfortable place waiting for him when he gets back.

So yes, I hear birth is painful, but I will wear that pain with a badge of honor, and yes a little pride, knowing that I'm doing everything I can to give my child the most uninterrupted, innocent start to life possible. I don't know why God thought it important that pain be a part of bringing forth life, but I hope to learn by experiencing it and embracing it. I'll be closer to my baby, I'll be closer to my husband as he holds my hand and comforts me, and I hope to be closer to God, to understand His work a little bit better.

I hope to be able to report a positive experience in Part II. Stay tuned!

Parenting Theories of Non-Parents

You've heard the argument before: people without kids shouldn't give parenting advice, they don't know what they're talking about. All they are are theories.

Well I'm here with a different point of view. My husband, Miles, likes to say "you know how you think you know all the answers before you have kids of your own? Well you do."

The philosophy behind that is these non-parents are not emotionally manipulated. They're able to see a situation objectively.

Miles and I had sooooo many ideas about parenting before our kids came along, and here are a few examples:

• Bedtime routines are important. Establish one and stick to it, whatever it is. 
• Routine/schedule is important, all day long. Children feel safe knowing what to expect.
• Discipline is important. Yes, that means a spanking when necessary, or a smack on the hand. I've never understood the attempts of sitting and reasoning with a 1 or 2 year old. They need immediate feedback.
• Playtime is important. Children learn a lot through play and it increases bonding opportunities.
• Don't coddle. Kids will fall, they will get hurt, they will fight. Often children will react to your reaction - stay calm and let them sort out the pain in a way that suits them. If they need you, they will come to you.
• Children need time with their parents more than they need toys. There is no need to shower your child with toys and spoil them - they're likely to play with your pots and pans and boxes anyway.
• It's okay for a baby to cry, they don't need to be quiet and content every moment of the day, there are other responsibilities you have, too - learn to balance them.
• It's okay to leave your baby. With someone of course, but alone time or couple time is very important. Don't let your children come between the relationship you've built with your spouse. If you're strong together, the family will be strong.

These are just a few examples. I really can't think of anything we thought before kids that didn't turn out after kids. So remember your theories - they'll save your life. Just like Miles saved mine.

Having twins, there are few things that were necessary for our survival, and a schedule was one of them. The boys always ate together and always at 3 hour intervals. Okay, maybe not always. Sometimes I would feed them at 2 1/2 hours if they were going through a growth spurt, or feed one then the other if we were in a public place, but I knew that feeding on demand would kill me, especially because I was nursing. So yes, I woke a sleeping baby. I suppose that's something that was different than I anticipated.

Sleeping was also a part of the schedule. From the time they were 3 months old, they would be in their bed to sleep at 7pm, and their naps times were consistent.

Don't get me wrong - it's not like I didn't have days that weren't wonky where I forgot the schedule and just followed what I thought were the boys' cues. That led to a rough day, and nothing else got done. This is where the support of a husband whose parenting ideals match your own comes in handy.

Miles was confident enough in our parenting plan to not let me sway. For too long, anyway. He always reminded me of our goals and how we wanted our home to function, and that meant I needed to be in charge, not the babies. Because he left the house and was away from the day-to-day tasks - that become mundane, I tell you - he was more objective than I was and even knew better than I at times.

Where does he help me most right now with my almost-two year old twin boys? The discipline. The not coddling. It's so easy to forgive a gentle face and not follow through. It's so easy to run to your baby who's tripped over his own feet. It's so easy to just pick them up and take them where you want to go, rather than teach them to follow instruction. But the easy way rarely turns out satisfying in the end.

Moms: I know it's a lot of responsibility to take care of a new baby, or a growing baby, or a toddler or two. I know there are a lot of things on your list of to-dos, such as: buying diapers, doing laundry, making sure food is available, keeping the house in some semblance of order so you can find something when you want it. It's easy to feel like you're alone, like your husband doesn't know what it's like. And it is likely true that he doesn't, but he doesn't have to know what it's like in order to help and support you. He has to know what the family plan is that you both agreed on, so he can help keep you on the path that is so easy to stray from when being pulled in so many different directions.

Moms: let dads help. I'm sorry to say, but you don't always know what's best. You're not always in the best frame of mind. You're tired physically and emotionally and mentally, and some days it is just so hard. So let your partner, the one who committed to raise this child with you, have a say. It's okay to be wrong, so long as you get back to being right, and that is what he's there for: to help you to be right, to remember your 'pre-child parenting plan'.

Welcome Home, Daddy!

Yes, it's been a while. For no reason other than I haven't had the urge to write. But, my friends, Miles has captured a picture that forces me to break my silence. Here is the preamble:

When Miles comes home from work, I either see him coming up the walk and say "Daddy's home, go to the window!" or Miles will come knock at the window. Either way, the response is the same:

The boys stop what they're doing, look up and run up onto the couch beneath the livingroom window. Lincoln puts his hand on it and smiles while Austin will get up as high as possible and bang with both hands like an orangutang, with his mouth in a wide open grin and giggles. Miles coming home is the boys' favorite part of the day, and mine, too :)

Recently Miles has been blowing onto to the glass, and Austin has now copied this gesture. Miles caught it perfectly!

It's a good thing I value family fun time over clean glass, or I would go nuts. The finger prints and spit (mmmm) are a great reminder of how much the boys love their dad, and how much Miles loves to come home and see them. But really, the windows are due for a clean. Spring can't get here soon enough.