Balance…Possible?

By: Heather Somaini

Balance. I sort of hate that word. I often hear parents talking about finding the right amount of “balance” in their lives between their work, spouse, kids, and themselves. I’ve always said that it’s less about balance and more about prioritizing what’s most important and spending time doing those things. Balance would then just…appear.

I feel terribly unbalanced these days and maybe even unnecessary. I think I’m missing a need to be needed. That sounds weird and looks even weirder written down. Why should any of us need to be needed?  I don’t know but I do.

I realized after I had my cycling accident that everyone seemed to do just fine while I was laid up in bed.  Tere went to work just fine, the kids went to school…the world kept spinning without me.  So why do I feel like there isn’t enough time in the day to get ahead at work, give my kids the love and attention they need, think ahead to the holidays and maybe, just maybe show my spouse that she is not the last thing I’m thinking about every day?

Although I know everyone in my life needs me to some degree, I also want them to need me in the right way – the way I want to be needed.  You know what I’m talking about – in the hero way.  I want to save the day as often as possible.  I want to be the one with the good ideas, the smart quips and the “pull that out of my hat” types of rescues.  I fear it happens very infrequently.  Being needed in the wrong way feels stifling and tragic like a heat wave that just won’t let you breathe.

It doesn’t help that I feel sort of broken.  My right hand is functional for most things but completely un-functional in the grander scheme of things.  Everything takes me longer to do and the amount of conscious thought every minute of the day is incredible.  No matter how careful I am, I end up bonking my hand in some way once a day – sometimes somewhat gently and other times well…not so much.

I have a stream of doctor’s appointments to make sure that I’m healing ok.  Which I am, by the way.  But I don’t really look the way I used to.  The body is incredibly resilient but the pavement left indelible marks on me, somewhat like a tattoo. Soon they will use a laser on those marks to see if we can break them up a bit.  If not, I’m left with some interesting scars.  I’ve been told scars are sexy, that it shows I’ve thrived through something difficult and painful.  I like that concept for the marks on my leg and maybe even my arms but my face…that’s a whole other matter.  I want my face back the way it was.

Which brings me back to balance.  Can I have it?  Is it possible?  What if I get it and I hate it?  What if what I really thrive on is the need to be needed and in getting that, balance is impossible?  Do you have it?  If you do, what does it feel like?

Babies Walking….

By: Heather Somaini

It’s sort of amazing to look back at our twins when they were younger. They’re four and a half now and it’s easy to think of them as oh-so-grown-up. They talk and roll their eyes and say the craziest things now. But three and a half years ago, they barely had a couple of teeth and drooled everywhere. We were living in a rental house and they were just starting to walk.

Someone I work with told me when the kids were born to take video snippets of them every now and then. He said it would bring back the memories of them and it’s true. I watch these little moments and I smile a toothy grin almost as wide as theirs. That drool, that wobble…almost makes me want another set!

Oh no, I didn’t say THAT!

Family Vacation

By: Kacie Bernstein

We took the plunge this past weekend and took our first family vacation (just the four of us) to San Diego. I couldn’t wait to see their eyes light up at their first glimpse of Shamu, excited to see if they would actually feed the sea lions. I was so happy as we entered the park, I actually got teary-eyed. We arrived a little early so only certain areas were open, and we decided to check out Shamu. It was truly spectacular to watch an animal that large at such a close proximity, and of course, it scared my son. A few minutes later we had our first accident of the day. He fell off a bench and hit his head –there was a drop of blood, but we were good.
We proceeded to feed the sea lions and check out the dolphin show, which was fascinating…for me! I gave both kids a bag of cookies during the show, and about halfway through saw one flying a few rows below; needless to say the cookies went away. The Sesame Street water area was a huge success, and luckily we knew to bring a change of clothes. After six hours, a few more bumps, some hugs, kisses, and tears, it was time to go. We headed back to the hotel, which they protested. I agree; there is no place like home. We took them to the baby pool –a huge hit –then off to Old Town for a great dinner. It truly was great, both the food and the children!!
We seemed to be on an upswing and ended the night with hugs and kisses. We woke up around 11:15 that night to my daughter coughing like the sea lions we fed earlier that day, crying and wheezing. After a lot of talking, my husband and I decided to call the doc. Per his instructions, we steamed up the bathroom then took her outside to the cold air, but there was no improvement. At 1:00 in the morning, my daughter and I were off to the ER, where they treated her for croup.

Sunday on our drive home my husband and I recapped the weekend. He had a great time. I was beginning to wonder if we went on the same vacation. He explained that he knew what to expect of our weekend, and, well, my expectations were set too high. My lesson of the weekend: instead of stressing over the flying cookie or screaming child in the restaurant, just enjoy the little moments because you can never get them back.

Our Day at the Park

By: Kacie Bernstein

I finally did it. I took my kids to the park alone! My husband and mom have no issues taking them alone, but for me, well it just gives me way too much anxiety. There is a sweet little park down the street from our house; it is completely gated and my kids can use all of the equipment on their own. I loaded us up with tons of snacks, sand toys, and of course a cell phone in case we needed backup. I felt proud and accomplished; as moms of two or more know, this can be quite challenging.

More kids were entering the play area, but my attention was focused on two boys, probably 5 and 7, who were quite rambunctious. They were just being boys, climbing on top of the monkey bars, in capes, and jumping off. It made me nervous, and I was hoping that my son wouldn’t try to jump on the band wagon. I kept looking around –who was responsible for these boys? I asked if they were here with their mommy and they replied, no their babysitter. I saw a young girl sitting on the outside of the gated park…with her back to the play area. I was in shock, as were the other parents. These boys did not need a playing companion but someone to watch them and make sure they were being safe. I kept debating whether to say something. After all, was it really my place? Should I just mind my own business?

This went on for another 30 minutes. One of the boys left the gated area to go down a little hill that led to the LA River, which was completely out of eyeshot. WE all saw him leave, but the babysitter, not so much. That was it, I had to say something, after all, no one else was! I shouted to the woman that the child had just run down the hill. She replied, “that’s ok.” I shouted back with anger, “‘that’s ok’ to have your back to these children and not be aware of what they are doing?!” Her response: “they are fine.”

I was in disbelief, and my great day at the park with my kids had turned into disgust and anger. I couldn’t take it anymore and decided it was time to leave. I contemplated asking for the parents’ number to let them know about their terrible babysitter, but decided against it. I wished that I hadn’t; that morning haunted me all day!

Precious Moments

By: Kacie Bernstein

I won’t lie…it’s been one of those weeks. One toddler is challenging, but two, well it’s enough to make you want to lock yourself in the bathroom…oh wait, I did!

At times this week I have wanted to run away, just for a couple hours of course, or maybe just one night at a great hotel! I have found myself yelling a lot, and turning into a mom that I am not proud of. But, I have also realized that sometimes it is the most challenging and trying of times that actually help to shape you into the person that you want to be. I have also learned to appreciate the little moments and try to not dwell on those times when my kids act like I’m invisible.

There are times when I don’t even want to be around me, and still, their love is so unbelievably unconditional. My daughter will just look at me with her crazy curls, big brown eyes and chubby cheeks and say, “Mommy, I love you.” It makes my heart melt.

My kids and husband were lying in bed together as I was getting ready for a bridal shower I asked my husband how I looked. My son said “Pretty Mommy”! These are the moments that make the tough days a bit more bearable; the hugs and kisses aren’t so shabby either. I always tell friends, kids will change your life forever, especially two at once, but there is truly nothing better.

Moving With Babies

By: Heather Somaini

No, you’re not seeing double.  It sort of looks like the same baby doesn’t it?  Same thin hair and skin color.  Same half scared look of “you’re not really going to leave me here, are you?” Poor kids. They have the same genetically predisposed, oddball sense of humor parents. The ones that think it’s fun to stick your baby in a UHaul and take a picture as if they were packing the kid up. No, I don’t have any lasting, residual issues about it at all.

That top picture is me taken as my parents were packing up to move from Vermont to Sacramento, CA.  I wasn’t ready for California yet as my mother decided to move back to Vermont pretty quickly.  My California destiny would take another twenty plus years to become clear and I would travel most of the world before heading to the Golden State.  It’s a pretty amazing place to end up.

That kid amongst the boxes is our daughter Izzy as we were packing to leave the “house on the hill” and venture into the unknown a bit.  Moving is an adventure isn’t it?  It’s about planning and planning and packing and packing and throwing away and giving away and arguing with your spouse about what can stay and what must go.  It’s a lot of work and then the crazy, hectic day comes and it seems like it will never end.  When you finally get to sleep, it’s probably in a bed on the floor with boxes stacked all around.

We’ve moved twice with little ones.  The first time they were about 9 months old and then again when they were almost 18 months old.  Both times Tere was determined to have the babies nap until the very last minute, have the cribs dismantled and placed in the moving truck last, and then reassembled in the new house immediately.  It actually worked pretty well.  The babies had what they needed most – a place to sleep.

The other thing we did both times was intensely divide up the labor.  I was in charge of the actual move and the moving men. (I’m not sexist, there just weren’t any moving “women”.) I was also in charge of all utilities and appliances.  Tere was in charge of the babies, making sure we were all fed and that we had the basics to function each day like towels, clean sheets, showers, and clothes.  We also had some much needed help – the babies’ nanny and defacto third parent came to help, with her sister.  They were a godsend.  They helped with a ton of packing and any last minute “stuff” we hadn’t gotten to.

Although moving is insanely stressful, taxing, and takes way too long, there’s no better sleep than the one you get that night.  It’s like the sleep of the angels or something.  Your body aches and you can’t imagine lifting or moving one more thing, you’re exhausted and even too tired to argue over something being done completely wrong.  But when you hit that pillow, it’s lights out!

My key to a great move though is to make your wife happy.  No matter what she says, just tell her you’re taking care of it and it’s all going to be fine.  She’ll probably believe you.  Then just make it happen!

The First Year With Babies

By: Heather Somaini

I’ll be honest…I don’t have much to write about our babies’ first holidays. Nothing spectacular really happened. But if you’re like me, you love the holidays. It truly starts around Halloween, winds through to Thanksgiving, peaks at Christmas and finally goes out with a bang on New Year’s. I love the smell of the holidays. I love the feeling in the air, the change of colors and the urge to shop. I love how much love there is around me. It’s the time of year when everyone puts their best foot (or heart) forward. I like people best then. I love a little more. I try to argue a little less. Hopefully, I’m successful!

What I do have for you are some really fun pictures from our first holidays with the twins. For Halloween, Tere had to have two different costumes for them. One was for their Mommy and Me class (as Hershey’s Kisses) and the other was for actually going out trick or treating. Now we all know there’s no real trick or treating with 7-month-olds, but they sure did look cute as a bumble bee and a lady bug.

We spent Thanksgiving here in Los Angeles and got a jump on the “take your kids’ picture with Santa” thing.  As you can see, sitting with Santa is a little awkward for little ones.  Free even lost his shoe.

We also got these awesome shots of the kids in Santa hats…

My favorite pictures from that Christmas though are of the twins with their great-grandmother.  She adored their little faces and wanted nothing more than to just hold them as often as she could.

And here’s one last one of the kids in their holiday finest.  No mom can resist the temptation to dress their babies or kids up during the holidays!!

 

 

Being Prepared with Twins

By: Kacie Bernstein

When our twins were only a few weeks old I was given some very important advice: always be organized.  I am the queen of procrastination but it made perfect sense to me, so I decided to put my best foot forward.  I soon learned that with twins, this would be the only way to survive.

When they were infants I would line up their bottles for the entire day. They were, of course, on different formulas, one requiring that the formula be in the bottle first and the other, water first.  We were stocked with formula, definitely enough for a rainy day or 20!  Every night I would prep multiple bottles, diapers, and burp cloths in my room for the dreaded middle of the night wake-up calls, making sure that everything was an arm’s reach away.

At around two-and-a-half-months-old we started taking classes. I figured it was a good way to make friends and hopefully get some much needed pointers along the way.  I would actually pack my diaper bag the night before and have it hanging from the stroller.  I was the mom in class that others borrowed from -bottles, diapers, formula -you name it, I had it.  Back then I wouldn’t dream of leaving the house without two changes of clothes, infant Tylenol, nail clippers, blankets -the list goes on and on.  My husband thought I was crazy, but we always needed to be prepared for the “what if” situation.

As they got a little older and started eating solids, I would actually soak their oatmeal overnight; this way it would just need to be heated in the morning and their food would be on the table before I got them out of bed.  Looking back, it might have been a tad neurotic, but it worked for me, and so far so good!

Lately I have been prepping a lot less. Maybe it’s because I finally realized that as long my bag has diapers, wipes, water, and food what can go wrong?

Why Won’t Those Babies SLEEP???

By: Heather Somaini

Once we decided to have kids, life changed – incrementally at first and then in large swings into uncharted territory. No matter what we thought kids and parenting were about, we were wrong. That’s the one thing no one really tells you. The moms tell you all about the cute parts like buying baby clothes and how they smell. The dads tell you all about the hard parts like lack of sleep and poopie diapers. But no one tells you that what you’re about to experience is so outside your realm of understanding that it’s not even worth trying.

Each phase ratchets upwards like some sort of rollercoaster from a planet where rollercoasters are a mode of transportation from the ground to the top of a high-rise building. At first, they hand you this newborn that does nothing but eat, sleep, and poop. You burp them a lot and hope that they’re ok because you have no idea what they need or want. My only thought was to keep moving forward every day. The jolt to my normal sleep pattern was severe. Just. Keep. Moving. Forward.

After three months of that, they sleep less, eat more, and poop like crazy. There was a brief few weeks of euphoria – we made it through the first three months and it was easier! The babies were more than pet rocks, which helped. Life was better. I started talking about having more children. If we could manage so well with twins, one or two more would be a breeze, right? After six months, the euphoria had worn off; we were exhausted and I started to realize that this was like…forever. They weren’t going away.

We had to start sleep training. We had started. Don’t think we hadn’t but we needed to get serious about it. Tere chose the Sleep Easy Solution by Jill Spivack and Jennifer Waldburger. She searched high and low and really felt it was the best combination of sleep training and lack of torture for the parents. I use the term “parents” loosely because the only one who is really tortured during sleep training is the mom. The mom is the one who just can’t stand to let them “cry it out” like in the Ferber Method. In the Sleep Easy Solution, sleep training can start when a baby is a combination of age and weight. At 4 months and 14 pounds, they should be ready but some babies may take longer to hit that goal weight. There’s no crying it out and that’s what Tere liked best.

We read the book and did everything we were supposed to do. It would work for a bit but then it wouldn’t. Tere heard that Jill Spivack was doing a “talk” to promote her book and I happily agreed to go. After listening to story after story, many of their techniques suddenly made sense!

My favorite was the “dream feed”. Jill and Jennifer’s system requires that you determine when your baby actually needs to be fed at night and then “dream feed” them. Dream feeding allows you to feed the baby, usually with a bottle, while they’re sleeping. It avoids not only them waking up hungry and crying their heads off until you wake up, but also you spending a ton of time feeding them and getting them back to sleep. With a dream feed, they eat while they’re asleep and NEVER WAKE UP! It’s pretty awesome because you’re back in bed and asleep in less than 30 minutes.

Although life with babies would change again soon, at least for the time being we were getting a little more sleep and the babies were learning how to sleep through the night! Yippee!

Margaritas Are Your Friend

By: Heather Somaini

I know you’re asking yourself what a picture of two babies floating aimlessly in a pool has to do with margaritas or more to the point, why margaritas are your friend.  But trust me, they are.

Tere nursed the twins for about seven months.  I use the term “nurse” loosely because she never really did nurse them.  We had so many complications before the babies were born and then after that a couple weeks in, we abandoned nursing altogether and my wife pumped exclusively.  The twins both ate formula with as much breast milk as Tere could produce.  Tere always said she wanted to nurse for at least six months.  I was happy to go along with whatever she wanted.  Six months seemed like a great amount of time to me.

Around five months in, Tere started talking about scaling it back and wanting to stop at the six-month mark.  I happily said I was in support of whatever she wanted to do.  One night she was struggling with her decision to stop pumping and asking me my thoughts.  I didn’t have many so that’s what I expressed.  She finally said “Am I the only one around here that’s upset and sad about the end of breastfeeding?”  I knew it was one of those moments where I should probably be thoughtful before I answered so I paused…and thought.  I finally said “Yes!”  Tere was devastated.  I guess she thought I was wracked with conflict over this.  The truth is, I only think the birth mother is the one that is attached to it.  It was actually great for me that the babies took formula – it gave me all the opportunity I wanted to feed them.

So here was Tere, completely wrecked about her decision to stop nursing.  And she just couldn’t do it.  She tried and she tried but something inside her just wouldn’t let her stop.  I’m sure she felt selfish, that wanting her body back as her own was not the selfless act that all mothers should naturally just do.  So no matter how hard she tried, she just kept on pumping.

Without me really realizing it, an answer was just ahead of us.  We went on vacation.  It was just a short four days down in Mexico at a resort that Tere and I knew well.  We had actually planned to go the year before but when Tere got pregnant, she didn’t want to leave the safety of our house and our doctors.  So, I sweet-talked the resort manager to let us postpone our trip by a year if I booked a second room.  We took my parents!

My parents came to Los Angeles a few days before and we all flew down together.  It was a bit of a trek with seven-month-old twins but when we arrived, it was paradise.  Off season and relatively empty – we had the place to ourselves.  After checking in, I promptly corralled my family into the lobby lounge area and started perusing the drink menu.  Soon I had the babies asleep in their strollers and all the grown-ups deciding what kind of margarita they wanted.  When the waiter came we ordered some food and EVERY MARGARITA ON THE MENU.  Yes, I’m serious.  We were on a margarita tasting high.  We must have looked like raging alcoholics.

Tere did not want to drink at all.  She knew that she needed to pump later that evening and any alcohol would be transferred to her breast milk and then ultimately to the babies.  After a bit of coaxing, she finally agreed to “pump and dump”.  If you’re not sure what that is, it’s pretty much exactly what it sounds like.  The nursing mother pumps her breast milk like normal but then essentially throws it away or “dumps” it.  Tere sampled every margarita we ordered.

The next day we spent at the pool.  When the lunch order came around, my mom and I ordered a couple of our favorite margaritas from the night before.  Tere hesitated but then decided to drink one anyway.  She justified it by saying she was on vacation so it would be ok to “pump and dump” one more day.  We drank margaritas pretty much every day while we were in Mexico and so did Tere.  By the time we left to return home, she hadn’t pumped any breast milk for the babies and came to the decision to stop altogether.  Suddenly, it was the easiest decision she ever made.

So there you have it my friends.  If your wife is having a hard time bringing her nursing career to an end, just take her on vacation to a warm locale with great margaritas.  She’ll feel much better about it very soon.

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