Just Another Day in Paradise
The babies are still winning, but not quite as much. A few weeks ago it felt like we were never going to be able to get our babies to eat or sleep or grow. We had had a few really bad days in a row and it was wearing us down a bit.
Well, things have improved, but we do still have our moments, which is how it should be, right?
We spent a week or two experimenting with various bottles and nipples, and eventually decided that the ones from the hospital were as good as any of the ones that cost a ton of money from various stores. That period of time was pretty miserable and I had also stopped trying to nurse either baby. It just seemed like too much to handle.
One afternoon I asked Patrick if he thought it was bad that I’d stopped breast feeding and he paused and hesitated for a moment (I fully expected him to say that it was ok and that I should do whatever was comfortable for me), and then he said, “well, I think there are some physiological advantages for the babies.” He totally played the “I’m about to be a doctor” card. I was, in all honesty, a little mad. I’d read all these Facebook posts about husbands being 100% on board with whatever their wives decided to do regarding breast feeding, and I felt for a brief moment that I was on my own. But then I thought about it a bit more. I’d been trying to breastfeed since their days in the NICU, and clearly, based on the numbers, my body was on board. I realized that Patrick had my best interests and those of our precious babies in mind. He knew that the time I’d spent crying my way through 40 minutes of trying to get one or the other baby to latch was time that really meant that I was dedicated to making it work. I just needed a little push. So, we tried again, and both babies just took off after an almost two week break! Neither are completely perfect and we do still bottle feed, but it’s such a HUGE relief to know that I can feed my babies the way nature intended!
Breastfeeding is one of the few things that I feel like makes our family seem like a “normal” family. I can feed my babies just like any other mother, even though they were early and spent so much time trying to learn to breathe and eat! I now breastfeed each kiddo once or twice a day and it’s such a great experience. I have tried feeding both at the same time and didn’t really dig that–it really made me feel like a cow, but maybe we’ll try that again someday too.
Miss Neala, lounging with her bro one lovely morning earlier this week.
Rylan hanging out at the park. We tried to have a playdate but no one else showed up. Luckily, I have two babies so they played together. Just kidding, Neala slept and Rylan kicked around on the ground. I do look forward to days at the park when they’re ready to run and play and have a built in playmate!
We do still have moments of major vom, and moments of panic that our little ones aren’t eating enough, but overall, I think we’re getting into the groove of things. It’s ok that “the groove of things” involves puddles of spit up on the floor, heads elevated at bed time, massive burp cloths, lots of changes of clothes, and sheets changed in the middle of the night. We can deal with all that.
Early Summer
When I was a kid, late May was one of my favorite times of the year. Just like every other kid in the country I looked forward to the end of the school year and the summer, but there was something else that I always loved about the last few weeks of the school year.
Since my parents were camp directors it seemed that there were always people coming in and out of our house, but at the end of May, all the new staff for the summer started arriving. Camp didn’t actually start until June, and the staff wasn’t required to start until staff training week, the week before the kids arrived, but there was always a group of 8 to 10 people who showed up in the middle of May. I remember bugging my mom for info about these early arrivals starting in about March. I’m sure it drove her nuts. I wanted to know who was coming, where they were from, how they were getting here, what they were hired to do, and just about anything else she could tell me. The very best was when one of these people was someone returning for a second or third summer with us. Of course, those people were the crazy ones because the prep work for camp before staff training started consisted of very heavy manual labor.
They were mostly college kids hired as counselors for the summer, and it was usually the guys who showed up early. I’m pretty sure some of these guys had never done a day of real hard work in their lives, and my dad worked them until they were past the point of exhaustion. They built trails and tent platforms, moved furniture, finished floors, painted flower boxes, cleaned saddles, cleared brush, mowed lawns, scrubbed refrigerators…you name it, they did it! I got a kick out of the looks on their faces after their first day on the job, I’m pretty sure that when they signed up to come earlier than necessary, they had no idea what they were in for. They were exhausted to their very core.
There were two things that I’m sure kept them motivated, two things I ALWAYS keep in mind when trying to motivate a group of people to do some less than fun task: my dad always, always, always worked right along side them, and there was always a home cooked meal on the table at the end of the day.
I mentioned my dad’s work ethic in a previous post, but it’s clearly something that has really stuck with me, if you want the job done right, work alongside the people you’ve asked to do the job! I think when these poor, unassuming college boys set out for their first day, they were always surprised by the stamina of their much older boss and probably didn’t quit because they didn’t want to be upstaged by him!
During this time of the year (and pretty much always) my mom made sure there was a good, hearty home cooked meal on the table for when the boys were finally done working for the day. And man, these guys could EAT! We would all sit down together at our dining room table, sometimes as many as 15 of us (that’s just a guess), every night and enjoy our meal like one big happy family. I think my mom must be a saint for doing this each spring until we had access to the commercial kitchen at camp on June 1st. We liked to say that the kitchen I our house was “a three butt kitchen,” so…not all that big, especially depending on the size of butts occupying said kitchen!
I think I loved this time of year so much because it felt like our family grew and I knew it meant the beginning of another great summer. I like to think that there was a special bond between the staff who showed up early, and I’d also like to think I had a special bond with them since they shared our family table and had the luxury of experiencing my parents hospitality first hand.
So, it’s that time of year again, anyone up for some manual labor? Our yard could sure use some work! I’ll work with you and cook dinner (there’s probably time for a six pack or two also). Happy summer everyone!
78 Days
Today is a big day in our household. Today is day 78 of us having the twins home from the hospital. Weird number, right? Well, they spent exactly 78 days IN the hospital, and it feels pretty monumental to have had them home the exact same amount of time they were in lock up the hospital. Of course, we celebrated the day with diaper changes, feedings, tummy time, back time, and cookies…
It’s difficult to sum up what’s happened in the past 78 days, and someone asked me recently what we do all day, so here’s my summary. Seventy-eight days with twins home equals:
930 Wet diapers
105 Poopy diapers
2614.8 Ounces (or 20.43 gallons) of breastmilk in (as in, ingested by babies)
4302.3 Ounces (or 33.61 gallons) of breastmilk out (as in out of my body via pump)
43 Hours spent nursing
211.88 Hours spent pumping
50 Baths
Too many smiles to count. Too many hours snuggling to count.
So there you have it…that’s what we’ve been doing for the past 78 days and we wouldn’t have it ANY other way.
I’ll leave you with two videos, one of Neala and one of Rylan. I’ve been taking 4 photos of each of them each week since they’ve been home (I wish I’d started when they were born, but oh well), and here’s a compilation of each of them. So this is week 12 to 22 for each kiddo.
Perfect Weekend
As I knew it would be, we had the perfect weekend (and in case any of you who read my last post were wondering, I was right, it was a great transition to Albuquerque for my parents).
I’m not a huge fan of re-cap posts, but I got a new camera and have to share some of the images. Plus, this weekend really was pretty epic.
Friday: Patrick graduated from medical school. His graduation was really nice, tasteful, relatively short, and pretty entertaining. Who knew that a “hooding ceremony” could be so darn entertaining. You would think that by the time they got to the letter “S” in the alphabet that people would have seen all the ways not to hood a graduate, yet, one of the most terribly botched hoodings happened to a poor (now) doctor who’s last name started with an “S.” (If you’re not familiar with the hooding part of graduation, you can search on YouTube and find lots of videos. It’s sort of silly, but apparently a very long standing and prestigious tradition.) I actually have a total of 0 photos of the graduation/hooding ceremony. Sorry folks, but when you’re sitting 30 rows back, the only thing you can really see through a camera lens is blurry shapes, boring. I did, however, discover that Rylan does indeed look quite a lot like his father. When being far away causes big men to become blurry, they look like their infant sons…who knew?
See that weird thing around his neck (not the purty rope that signifies a super awesome honor society, the other thing that looks like it’s choking him), that’s the hood. Funny story, the UNM bookstore didn’t order all the hoods on time so he actually had to borrow a hood!
After the graduation we had some “light refreshments” (a few pieces of melon and some ice water) and went on our merry way. We spent the afternoon at Patrick’s dads house enjoying some tasty ribs and great company.
Patrick’s sister and boyfriend flew in Friday night. Thank you, tornadoes in Dallas and crap ass airlines, for making them miss graduation. We always have great fun catching up when they stay with us and got to bed way too late.
Aren’t they cute? We were so glad when they finally made it here!
Saturday: We woke up to feed the munchkins around 5:30 or 6:00, and by some miracle, the little man went back to sleep without doing his usual thrashing around, and we slept until 9:00!!! Patrick made a fantastic breakfast and we spent the morning just hanging out in our PJ’s.
Saturday afternoon we dropped the kiddos off with the family and headed out to a graduation party where Patrick and another brand spankin’ new doctor went undefeated in corn hole. That’s what 4 years of med school will get you, a corn hole champ.
And…We always have great fun catching with Patrick’s sister and her boyfriend up when they stay with us and got to bed way too late.
Oh, and I made some yogurt in the middle of the night.
Sunday: We were up bright and early. I started the day off by making granola, one of my very favorite things to make (don’t worry, it will be my next Hipster, Amish, or Poor post/recipe share). The whole house smelled like Cinnabon, and the look of disappointment on my sister-in-law’s face when she found out I wasn’t baking cinnamon rolls exactly 3 hours before co-hosting a party for 40 people was priceless. She wanted those cinnamon rolls, sadly, I think the nearest Cinnabon (which is the kind of cinnamon rolls she wanted), is in the Phoenix airport. Sorry, no dice sissy.
My brother and sister in law who live down the street were kind enough to host Patrick’s graduation party since our yard looks like a mix between the Sahara and a landfill, and our house is covered in vomit soaked rags and onesies. We had a lovely mimosa bar, a bloody mary bar, and my dad took charge of the gridle and made bacon, eggs, and pancakes for about 40 people. We had granola, yogurt, fruit, bread, and all the usual odds and ends that make a New Mexican breakfast (red chile, green chile, cheese, tortillas…just because). I cried my way through a few toasts, one to Patrick, one to the party hosts, and one to all the amazing mothers (since it was mother’s day!) who have been so supportive over the past 5 months or so. The food and company were amazing. The wind sucked, or blew I guess, but we had a great time anyway.
Mimosa bar. Yum.
Gilligan Family!
Gilligan/Rice Family.
Rylan with his uncle, wearing “matching” shirts. Uncle Chad was pretty dissapointed that his was not a onesie like Rylan’s.
Home made bread. Yum.
Fruit, in case you’ve never seen fruit, I thought this caption might help you out.
Apparently my brother and sister in law do not own a pepper shaker or grinder, just the mortar and pestle for grinding your own pepper, it was quite the topic of conversation.
Bloody Mary fixings.
Bacon.
Granola.
Hey! That’s my family!
Clearly, Patrick and Rylan are enjoying the party.
Obligatory super cute niece pic. Love this little cutie!
Me and my girl!
Patrick fell asleep on the couch with Neala, who had clearly had one too many mimosa’s, and I had a nice nap with Rylan. All that partying is exhausting!!
Looks like it’s nap 30 folks.
And…We always have great fun catching with Patrick’s sister and her boyfriend up when they stay with us and got to bed way too late.
After spending the morning trying to get the kids to realize what a good idea it is to sleep in, we wrapped up our weekend with a few loads of laundry, completed by the mother in law, and a lovely walk in the cool morning to the neighborhood coffee shop for my standard decaf soy latte. Yum.
Please, small boy, go back to sleep!
Fine, no sleep, then let’s walk to the coffee shop with Auntie Johanna.
And…I’m spent. Weekend over. Happy Monday folks!
A New Beginning
I had a post planned for today that was all roses and butterflies, ok, well, not exactly roses and butterflies, but graduation hoods and mother’s day. But I’ll save that post for later because today is too monumental a day to just gloss over.
Dad, if you’re reading this, get a box of kleenex, mom you too.
Today marked the last day that any member of the Rice family lived in the Pecos Canyon (more history here). My parents have had the same address for 39 years, that’s 14,244 days, or, if you’d like to be even more specific, 341,866 hours. Whoa. That’s a LOOONNNGGG time. Like, really long.
My mom moved on down to Albuquerque last weekend and we’ve been having a grand ole’ time, and today was dad’s day to move. My dad has spent the majority of his life living on the Brush Ranch property and then the last few weeks just up the road and today, about an hour and a half ago, it was time to leave. Time to start new and fresh.
It’s easy, I mean, really easy, to be sad about our family leaving the Pecos Canyon, but I think it’s important to look at this day as a new, fresh beginning. I’ve heard rumor that when my grandfather was running Brush Ranch, his speech on the first day of camp was always the old chapter book analogy, you know the one, “Today is the first day in the next chapter of your life,” or something along those lines. Well, here it is. Chapter 2 or 5 or 10 or…let’s call it chapter 40. Who cares. But it’s a new chapter and it’s going to be great for our family.
I’m ready to make some new memories, ones that include our kids. Memories that involve our family being so close that we can have completely impromptu dinners on a weeknight. Memories that involve really hot summer days with sprinklers and minor league baseball. Fireworks. The zoo. The aquarium. Memories that are centered around things that the Pecos Canyon just couldn’t offer.
I can’t imagine how my dad is feeling right now, and I haven’t worked up the courage to call him, but I know this day will go down in his books as one of the most difficult of his life. I can’t wait for him to start fresh tomorrow, start fresh with roses and butterflies…or, how about graduation gowns! Tomorrow is a new beginning for all of us, Patrick graduates from medical school and I’m just so glad we all have a weekend of happy activities planned to start this new chapter, as my grandfather would say.
Hang in there mom and dad, we love you!
A Very Serious Thank You
One of my very best friends is a pediatric nurse. Until very recently, I didn’t really know what that meant. I mean, I knew that it meant she was a nurse who took care of kids, but I didn’t REALLY get it until our babies were born. I have a new appreciation for nurses across the board, but especially for nurses who care for the tiny little people we bring into this world. Since it’s National Nurses Day (is that the correct title?!) I thought I’d weigh in…
When our babies were born, they spent 78 days in the NICU (in case you missed the birth story post). The nurses in that unit literally kept our babies alive and there is no real way to thank them. I’ve toyed with the idea of baking something (of course, with 5 month old twins at home now, I haven’t really had much time for baking), and we gave a few of them gift certificates, but there really is no way to properly say thank you to these people who give so much.
The nurses in the NICU get the best of the best and the worst of the worst. These amazing individuals spend 4 days a week helping babies stay alive. They show up to work every day or night with a smile on their faces and keep meticulous track of what is going on with their two or three patients. Every three hours they check diapers, feed, turn, snuggle, fix, poke, and prod at these little fragile beings, just to make sure everything is on track. They spend the moments in between watching the monitors all day long and adjusting oxygen, heat, and positions. They get to know our little ones better than we do sometimes, they learn to recognize the little cues that a baby is uncomfortable or happy. They know all the tricks to help a baby breathe better, pass gas, or poop. They can navigate the spiderwebs of wires and lines coming off of a baby with their eyes closed. And those are the good days.
Then there are the bad days. The days when they see a little blood in the stool or notice a high blood pressure, reflux, or something else that’s not quite right. And they’re the ones who let the doctors know, they’re the ones to start to fix anything that seems wrong. They often have to break any bad news to the parents too.
The other thing that makes these nurses so incredible is that they not only have to handle their patients, but they have to deal with their patient’s parents. In some cases, the parents are just as sick as the babies, or are on drugs or alcohol. These nurses don’t pass judgement, don’t care any less for the kid of drug addict, and are just as kind to the drug addicted parents as they are to the people who’ve landed in the NICU by some fluke of nature. They work tirelessly to make sure that the parents are comfortable and well informed. They teach parents how to change diapers, feed, and bathe their babies. They crack a joke every once in a while or wear funny socks on holidays just to keep the mood light. They don’t care how many times a day you call to find out about your little ones, or what time of day or night it is, they’ll happily answer all your questions and never, never make you feel guilty about not being at your baby’s bedside every waking moment. They give the best hugs after a bit of bad news and are quick to supply a sobbing mother with a box of tissue. They coach moms through breastfeeding for the first time, and make sure dad knows how to give a bottle. They suggest kangaroo care and never make parents feel like it’s to much of a pain to move their little bundle of joy and wires out of the isolette. They know how important it is for their tiny patients to feel love.
NICU nurses are a group of amazingly unselfish people who give so much love to their patients and their patient’s families. They handle birth, death, and everything in between with such incredible grace and composure. They are the reason we have our babies home today and that they are thriving. It is awesome to think that our babies lives absolutely depended on our NICU nurses…clearly, the gravity of our situation has weighed heavily on me. I wish there was a way I could properly thank the people who changed my life forever.