I survived! Getting out the door with 4 kids is one thing, but getting out the door trying to make everybody look at least halfway decent for Thanksgiving- nightmare!! First of all, nothing fits me. What are my options… dress, or leggings… or sweatpants. I feel like a stuffed sausage in most of my clothes, including dresses, and I refuse to buy new pants or jeans in my “new” size- I WILL fit into my favorite jeans again- I will, I will, I will! So, after digging through my closet, I settled on my uniform of late. leggings, boots, Spanx, tunic. Shower, hair, makeup- holy hell! Ever tried doing your mascara while holding a squirming baby? A baby who decides at just the right moment to reach out and grab the mascara wand, and then quickly sweep it across your eyebrow and into your hair? This happened when I was already 30 minutes behind schedule and none of the kids were even dressed, let alone had brushed teeth or hair. I finally told the girls to wear whatever they wanted, and they chose some outfits that I must say… really represented their hobo chic side.
When I was a kid, we used to take camping trips in the desert with a large group of friends. We had a tradition of spending every Thanksgiving in Ocotillo Wells, where we’d dirt bike and explore for days. We’d set up a “table”, made up all of our camping tables, in a long row that was probably about 50 feet long. It was a big yummy pot luck made by all of the mama’s, and a good time was had by all, sometimes we’d even dress up like Indians! After dinner, all of us kids would play hide-and-go-seek in the dark desert. We’d hide under the motorhomes and behind bushes (hello snakes and scorpions??), and later, all of the dads would tell tall tales by the fire and we’d sing and play jokes. Us kids would climb trees and build forts by day, occasionally jumping on our dirt bikes and zipping off into the desert together- with no adults at, like, 7 years old??? It was great fun! I cherish these memories, and the friendships that I still hold dear to this day.
I used to be able to tandem nurse the babies with my twin nursing pillow, but now they hate it so, I have to do one at a time. It’s really FUN when they both wake up at the same time in the middle of the night. The last few nights, they both decided to wake up at 3am. Both of them. At the same. Damn. Time. Because we co-sleep, normally I’ll just nurse whoever is awake, while lying down, and we can both fall back asleep pretty quickly while he/she eats. But when it’s both of them, I can’t use the pillow like I used to, so I try a few different methods and just use the one that makes them the least pissed off. Stacking them one on top of the other has worked in the past, but not anymore because they’re getting so heavy that they smoosh each other, so my only other option (that I frantically attempt in the darkness) is to side-lie and nurse one, and then drape the other over the side of my body and just focus on making sure their noses aren’t smooshed into my boobs, so they can at least breathe. Not the most comfortable of things in the world to do, but it works. Both babies fall asleep, and eventually, I can too! It’s midnight Boobie gymnastics!
I’ve gotten pretty good about toting the twins around when I’m out and about, but there’s no way to stay low-key with twins. Absolutely everywhere I go, somebody has to make a comment.