Itâ€™s official. The muppets like food.
Thatâ€™s a good thing, considering our days pretty much revolve around it. Since they were wee little two-pound tots living in a plastic box, weâ€™ve focused on food. The first few NICU days focused on whetting their appetites as doctors dripped 2mL (a single ounce is 30mL) into their pea-size tummies.
Then our nurses informed us that one of the first big challenges weâ€™d face was determining how well the muppets would be able to handle processing food. Typically at 27 weeks, tykes prefer to just use the easier umbilical cord route – intestinal digestion requires an awful lot of unnecessary calorie burning. As weâ€™d so traumatically (and literally) cut off that option days before, the neonatologist on call blithely warned us that NEC is a not uncommon preemie issue. (NEC, or necrotizing enterocolitis, is when the intestines die – often taking the attached baby with them.)
Search and Destroy didnâ€™t get NEC. They progressively tolerated higher and higher amounts of milk – never experiencing the step backward we were constantly warned about. Then we learned how to drink from a bottle. Granted, drinking from the bottle wasnâ€™t so much the issue as breathing in conjunction with said bottle. That took a bit of practice, but by discharge Destroy had earned himself the nickname â€œAlarm Clockâ€ for his high pitched screams should any nurse (or delinquent parent) be late with an every-three-hour feeding.
These past few days, both of my little men have been inhaling their big-boy solid foods. Breakfast consists of oatmeal (also a fabulous facial and hair care enhancer, a factoid the muppets wholeheartedly embrace). Then after nap time, the vegetable of the week is served as lunch. Carrots were our first endeavor; today we graduated to peas.
The carrots were a bright orange mush, but otherwise smelled like carrots. The peas are, well, pea green. Add in the gruel-like consistency, and they rather resembled something Iâ€™d expect to see extruding from the opposite end of my children. (In fact, Iâ€™m not sure I havenâ€™tâ€¦)
Jon and I wrinkled our noses in disgust as soon as each 1.5 ounce jar. â€œOh, they are not going to like these,â€ we agreed.
Turns out, theyâ€™re currently into food. Although we had a similar cause for concern when the foreign flavor crossed their lips, the moment quickly passed and the green goop was quickly gobbled up. Thankfully, this stuff doesnâ€™t stain. â€œNo doctor, theyâ€™re not feeling ill at all. Just a pea-bit fashion statementâ€¦â€ However, I cannot yet vouch for pea spit-up. I assume an uninformed spectator will very quickly be on the phone with an exorcist while keeping a keen eye to see if either muppet noggin begins revolving in 360 degree rotations.
Their love of food is showing. Especially on Destroy. Jon and I decided to venture forth for a family breakfast this morning. After settling into a booth for four – muppets remain in their carseats – our waitress arrived to coo at our darling children (and allegedly take our order).
â€œTwins?â€ she exclaimed. I smiled and nodded. â€œA boy and a girl?â€ she smiled at us. No, two boys I assured her.Â She was not phased by the correction and plunged right ahead with the interrogation. â€œAre you breast feeding?â€ I am not, but I would like some chocolate pancakes.
â€œOh thatâ€™s good,â€ she sighed with relief. â€œI was thinking your little girl here was taking all the milk!â€ she laughed at Destroy. So what I hear you saying is that my son looks like a girl and is fat?
Jon has repeatedly suggested that perhaps Destroyâ€™s eyelashes, with their perpetual appearance of heavy mascara, cause people to assume femininity. I disagree. Everyone knows ALL the muppets have big round eyes and long luxurious lashes.