Remember all those posts about the NICU? And how tiny the muppets were?
Well, no post tonight. I’ve got to get them ready for their first day of school tomorrow! (Ok, it’s the Toddler class…but work with me people.)
Stay tuned for details 🙂
Category Archives: Daycare
Teething Bites
The muppets gummy grins have given way to a number of pearly white baby chompers. The addition of enamel is a whole new experience. “There’s something in my mouth…”
And unfortunately, their favorite chew toy appears to be each other. This is a problem, since the Parent/Teacher Handbook for the preschool they’re slated to start next week, explicitly calls this behavior out as a nono. Biting is an expellable offense.
Continue reading
Movement Exploration
Last night we trooped over to our Parks & Rec community center for our first Movement Exploration class.
“Movement Exploration provides parents and their children the opportunity to explore their world, meet new friends, and develop motor skills in a colorful and playful environment through songs, creative play, social time, and an occasional simple arts and crafts project. Class for 10-18 MONTHS is designed for wobbly walkers. Balance and motor skills are developed.” Continue reading
The Nanny Diaries
Unlike the manic Monday misery most people feel at the start of each week, Monday is fun-day for the muppets.
Our nanny, Holly, is officially attached to the boys. And boy, do they love her – she’s fascinating, fun and oh so entertaining. For several weeks, Search has greeted Holly with a big grin. This past week, the three of them had a little chat.
Hi. Ink. And arf.
Mary Poppins
Great news – we still have a nanny.
Several months ago, while the muppets were still hanging out in the NICU, I went to lunch with a dear friend. Upon completion of our meal, we discovered the keys to her car were locked in the trunk. So, we perched ourselves on a nearby patch of grass and began to chat about childcare as we waited for her husband to arrive with a rescue set of keys.
Her son, an adorable two and a half year old, had outgrown his personal nanny. My friend was lamenting that fact, and wanted to find a new home for this wonderful nanny. Around this point in time, it occurred to me that when the muppets came home from the hospital, I would be returning to work a mere 24 days later.
We were going to need childcare.
I was paranoid. Who was I going to leave my little muppets with? After all, these are special muppets – their care is not to be taken lightly. My friend mentioned that their nanny was looking for part time work. She began telling me about this allegedly fabulous caregiver, Holly.
Holly was a long-time family friend. Her educational background was in early childhood development. She’d spent a number of years nannying before becoming a teacher. Then she became pregnant – her son was born premature, and she quit teaching to raise her own kids. Now that her kids are big school-aged peoples, she’s back in the nannying game.
My mouth was agape. We had located Marry Poppins. Holly was practically perfect in every way. I began phone and Facebook stalking her. We MUST have her as our nanny. I was on a mission.
A couple weeks after the muppets came home and a couple weeks before I went back to work we succeeded! Holly would be watching Search and Destroy on Mondays. (She even sings to them. And goodness knows having Mom sing to them is more like a punishment – no matter how much they seem to like music.) It was love at first sight. We had a good deal going.
The end of the first month with Holly came, and I wrote her a check as we had agreed upon. And that’s when the bank tried to throw a wrench in our arrangement. Holly decided to cash the check. This seemed like a logical move in both our minds. The bank thought otherwise.
I was typing away on my computer at work when my phone buzzed. (I don’t get reception in the heart of Silicon Valley where I work, so my phone was alerting me to a voicemail.) It was the bank. They wanted to speak with me because there was a woman trying to cash a suspicious check.
“We have a “Holly” trying to cash a check allegedly issued by you.”
“That’s our nanny,” I assured the bank man. “Please pay the woman.” Turns out, they’d already sent her away. Check in hand, but no cash. Now, I understand that they are concerned about fraudulent activities, and I appreciate that. (This begs the whole other question of why they sent her away with the check if they thought she was a master criminal…) But I just wanted to assure them that they should, in fact, give her the money as noted in the very much valid and real check.
The bank man then explained that the reason they were so concerned about the possibility of fraud is because there was only $6 in my account. This concerned me immensely. I got a bank manager on the line and explained that if there was only $6 in my account, we needed to step away from the valid nanny payment and begin discussing police reports. Problem was, I was looking at my account info online. And all appeared well in cyberland.
“Ohhh,” the bank manager finally sighed. “It appears we were looking at your credit card balance. Sorry.”
Fabulous. I immediately called Holly, apologizing profusely. I repeatedly assure her the funds existed and that her new family was not a bunch of deadbeats. Thankfully, she found the entire situation humorous (far more so than I).
Imagine my relief that she still loves us. This morning, when Holly arrived, Search and I greeted her at the door. Search welcomed her with a giant smile. Muppet approved.
One of Those Days
It is 9 p.m. I sit here, with baby vomit in my hair, lamenting the fact that I’ve stayed up so late. With that in mind, I’d like to take a moment to bemoan the day I’ve had in the spirit of Alexander – he of the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
As you know, the muppets got their four-month shots on Friday. This has left them cranky and wide awake. I, in turn, am also wide awake. The middle of the night has become social time, when all I want to do is sleep – the floor upon which I’m currently standing looks perfectly comfy.
I think I’ll move to Maui.
This morning was a circus. I had to get the boys ready and help try to get Gramma J out the door to the airport so she could go back home. I wish my mom could stay longer. She just barely made her flight and then had to sit on the tarmac for an hour while a mechanic “looked at the plane.” That sounds safe. I think I’m moving to Maui.
Today was the first day the muppets spent with the nanny instead of with Mom or Dad. We’ve got a great nanny (peace of mind is vastly underrated), but I missed my boys. It was hard to leave. I think I should go to Maui.
I was running late for work so I had to participate in my 9 a.m. meeting via Bluetooth headset in my car. We’re in the middle of the technology capital of the world, but my phone can’t seem to hold a call. Instead, the plant I was bringing to liven up my cube fell over in the back seat. Now there’s dirt in my nice new car. I want to go to Maui.
When I finally got to my desk, I discovered the hard drive on my computer was dead. The IT guy told me it’d be a while since he had to see if there was anything he could do about it. I went to get coffee while I pondered how to make myself useful without my laptop. The barista called me Patty. I HATE being called Patty. I’m moving to Maui.
I ran to my next meeting, hot coffee sloshing about and over my old-fashioned pen and paper note-taking technique. No one was in the conference room when I got there. The meeting was canceled, but nobody bothered to share that with me. I think I’ll move to Maui.
When I finally got my computer back, all my permissions had vanished. The technician told me “it should work,” but that didn’t magically make his statement true. I’d really like to move to Maui.
Destroy had terrible gas pains and was screaming when I got home. Nothing I did seemed to make him feel any better. Search was crying because he just wanted to be held. I felt like a terrible mother. I should go to Maui.
After a week, Destroy finally pooped. He had a major blowout that leaked through his diaper onto the changing pad. Somehow I got poo on the curtains while I was changing him. As I reached for a new wipe, a fountain of pee drenched me, the kid and the changing table. I think I’ll move to Maui.
As soon as I picked him up, all freshly changed and clean, he vomited all over me. Again. There’s vomit in my hair. And it’s chunky. Now it’s 9 p.m., and I’m still awake. I think I’ll go to Maui.
But, just as Alexander’s mom told him that sometimes people (big or small) have terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days – even in Australia – I know people have crazy, hectic, stressful exhausting days – even in Maui.
Although, in Maui, at least I’d be in paradise with the world’s cutest muppets…
In a Meeting
Work has picked up at a raid pace. Projects seem to be multiplying while I sleep and my calendar is filled with meetings as proof.
It’s nice to keep busy. It would be unpleasant if I sat around bored. I think my job is busy because of the constant planning and development of company announcements and events. But imagine the task of supervising discovery of the entire world. Everything is new and fascinating to the muppets. So Jon has a LOT of meetings.
Working Lunch
The 3 p.m. meeting
Project Manager Destroy
Product Manager Search
Daddy Day Care
Week 1 of Daddy Day Care is complete, with the concluding thought that taking care of one child cannot be that difficult.
Jon works weekends. So it has long been our plan that Daddy Day Care will be in session during the workweek and I’ll step up on the weekends. I was amazed at how many people expressed such concern over this plan.
“Are you worried about Jon?” I was asked. Of course not, I explained. Jon’s always wanted to be a father – and he, like me, is tremendously excited that the muppets are home. “No no,” they clarified. “Are you worried about him being home alone taking care of the boys?”
I was confused. Why would I be concerned? “Well, you’re Mom,” they explained. Yes. And Jon is Dad. “Well, Dad’s don’t adjust as well to taking care of the little ones as well as Mom’s.”
Luckily, we were unaware of this. And Jon is, in fact, a tremendous father – including taking care of muppets.
Daddy Day Care kicks off around 5 a.m. Dad takes over the end of the early morning feeding and sends me back to dreamland. I’m up early and off to work, so those last precious few hours are incredibly necessary. The three enjoy breakfast together when they wake up again in the morning and then Dad tries to squeeze a couple more hours of naptime out of the night.
Once the day has truly kicked off, my boys spend a lot of time in the living room – that’s where their playpen, bouncy chairs and swing live. Allegedly, the muppets take some naps during the day as well. I’ve inquired whether Jon ever naps along with them, but no – SuperDad has things to accomplish during these brief quiet times.
To maintain sanity, the boys set off on excursions around the neighborhood and beyond. Much as I enjoy my summer evening strolls, Jon finds relaxation in hour-long explorations of the parks. He does it to get outside, breathe fresh air, and to let the muppets fall soundly asleep to the steady vibrating rhythms of the rolling stroller.
Alas, Jon notes, “Apparently a dad pushing twins is the equivalent of a circus freak. I got little kids tapping their mom on the arm and pointing at me. I feel I should be selling ad space on the side of my stroller.” The lookie-loos are probably wondering where the children’s absentee mother is and feeling woefully sorry for the poor man stuck with his own two babies.
By the time I get home, the boys have eaten their first dinner and are ready to lie back and cuddle until bedtime. (Although, out of concern for what I’m missing, Dad often lets me handle the dinner diaper change.)
So all you dads out there – get over yourself. You probably won’t break the baby. And moms – don’t assume you need to shoulder everything. Dad may surprise you.
In any case, I’m sure many of you are wondering why there are now two posts in a row without photos. Daddy Day Care is thus far a rousing success. But that doesn’t mean Mom or Dad has the energy to run after the camera. More photos will come soon.
So as Week 1 officially comes to a close, I bid you sweet dreams. Goodnight moon.
Hi Ho, It’s Back to Work We Go
At 6 p.m. on April 20, I headed out of the office. I stopped by my boss’ desk to say goodnight and reminded her that I had a doctor’s appointment the following morning. I’d be in by 10 a.m. I assured her. And without a second thought, I moved on to a much more pertinent topic – asking her if we could quickly chat about the newspaper exclusive I’d secured that day. Business as usual.
Four months and 12 days later, I’m returning to the office for the first time after that fateful checkup with the doctor. It went a little longer than planned… Twenty pounds lighter and two kids heavier, tomorrow is my last day of maternity leave.
Hard at work...
It’s been quite the adventure. Most typical new mommys take just about the same length of leave as me. But I’d venture to guess that those mommys also spend approximately four months and 12 days bonding with their newborn. I will have spent 24 days home together with the muppets. (And I used to be shocked that my mom went back to work only two months after I greeted the world.)
My maternity leave breakdown is as follows:
- 37 days on bedrest hoping to stay pregnant
- 26 days hospitalized
- 7 days panicking as we endured the preemie “honeymoon”
- 30 days adjusting to life with babies in intensive care
- 73 days spending 4-6 hours a day in the NICU
- 24 days home with my muppets
82 percent of the aforementioned leave spent worried and without them. (Well, 100 percent of the time worried about the boys, but 82 percent so worried about how to get them home healthy.)
Originally, I wanted to work from home while I was bedridden. But my team of doctors said, “No.” They claimed work was too stressful. Right – because a job I liked was the part of this ordeal that was going to stress me out…
...and play.
Am I looking forward to going back to work? That’s a tough question. After so much time away, yes – I am very ready to go back. But I do wish I had more time with the boys. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t need more time, because I’d have spent all of my time bonding with my term newborn sons. C’est la vie.
For those of you calculating – yes, I am starting back up on a Friday. I plan to spend some time reminding my team who I am and the vast majority of the day sorting through the thousands of emails awaiting my return. (This is not an exaggeration.)
I’ll miss them during the day. But I doubt they’ll miss me. 1) They’re newborns. 2) The lucky little muppets will be living the high life with Daddy Day Care.