Monday will be three weeks since the boys arrived. I had assumed that everyone who told us how hard it was with one kid, let alone two, was just setting really low expectations, and, really, you just kind of work through it and life goes on.
I was wrong.
It’s way harder than I expected.
We’re getting the hang of it now, but there are still hours, or days, where we have no idea what is going on. They feed every few hours, except when they don’t. They feed really well, except when they don’t. They go to sleep really easily, except when they don’t.
Thankfully, usually one of them is nice enough to us to follow the plan. So, as long as we can get one down (or at least quiet), we can tend to the other one.
It’s amazing what happens the moment you become a parent. You get pooped and peed on, and it doesn’t even phase you any more. You’re more worried about cleaning the floor/wall/TV/bookshelf/credenza/wallaby than you are cleaning yourself. You forget to eat. Forget to shower.
It’s amazing how much people want to help. Every time we walk by another parent of twins, they stop us and tell us that it gets better. Which is both reassuring and scary. Mostly reassuring. Strangers offering you their phone number, saying call any time, is both amazing humanity and also ominous about what the next weeks will bring.
This is all cliche and the thing that all new parents talk about. But I’m trying to capture, in my half-braindead state, what we’re going through raising our two munchkins over these first few weeks. We’ve got tons of pictures. It’ll be nice to have some words to go along with them to remind me of what I was feeling.
Of course, I’m assuming that my words are coming out like eloquent prose. In reality, they probably look like line noise …. 987dgdkjfhg kdjh&)()*&^%&% kdjfhgkdjfhg k=dfgjhdkjfhg