Double Trouble

Three-and-a-half month-old baby....oof.  Lotsa work, right?  Pretty constant runaround of feedings, diaper changes, naps, fussing, rocking, shushing, carrying, etc.  But oh wait - LET'S DOUBLE IT.

That's right, folks.

Guess who's now the proud nanny of twins.  THIS GIRL.  Oh yeah, and the babies' 4-year-old sister, too.  Holy guacamole, I know.  But seriously?  Couldn't be happier.

I'm a firm believer of things happening exactly the way they're supposed to happen - even in the face of it all maybe seeming like a pile of horse shit at the time.  This philosophy held true for this nanny job search just as well as it's stood up to every other trial and travail of my albeit rather short life.  I went on a lot of interviews, many of them with families whose plans changed just as they were about to hire me (suddenly a family member offered free childcare, for instance).  I met with some good and some not-so-good people, I even turned down a job offer because it just wasn't the right fit.  But then, oh then I found my girls.

Here's the lowdown:

The four-year-old (let's call her Cricket, because that girl doesn't walk, she bops) goes to school every day from about 9ish till 4ish.  I get to work at 7:30 AM and get her all ready for school, feed her breakfast, get her dressed, etc and then drive her to school most days (some days her mom or dad will drive her).  Then, I spend the next eight hours with just the babes.  They're fraternal, and easy to tell apart, not just from looks but already their personalities are so different.

Baby A, first one out the door, let's call her Dove, short for Turtledove, short for "The Tortoise," since you could do a load of laundry in the time it takes her to finish four ounces.  Chug. Breathe. Sigh. Smile. Chug. Breathe. Sigh. Smile. Repeat.  Yawwwnnnn.  But so effing cute, I can't get enough of her.  Thick dark hair, cheeks of chub, and a champion neck snuggler if I've ever seen one.  She flirts with you while you change her diaper.  She can almost, but not quite laugh.  She needs her pink snuggly blanket up by her cheek in order to sleep.  She's perfect.

Baby B, second one out, let's call her Bun.  Bun, short for Bunny, short for "The Hare," as we call her affectionately, because the girl races through her bottles of breast milk like we're going to take them away if she doesn't house six ounces in four minutes or less.  She's got two huge dimples, peach fuzz for hair, and is a bit smaller than her older sister, despite having been born bigger (Dove caught up quick, despite her glacial pace of eating).  She likes to face out in your arms for about ten minutes and then she'd prefer to be snuggled into your neck over your shoulder, rightnowthankyouverymuch.  Changes her mind quickly, that one does.  And not a single qualm about letting you know that SOMETHING IS THE MATTER OVER HERE.  But fix whatever it is, and she is all dimples and smiles again.  She's also perfect.

Sometimes they're on the same schedule, but usually they're just slightly out-of-sync, which can be good or bad, depending on how you think of it.  Feed/snuggle/hold two babies at once and potentially have two napping babies, during which time tasks may or may not get accomplished faster?  Or only have to feed/snuggle/hold one at a time, giving each more attention and listening to less screaming, but having to do every. single. thing. one-handed because you are always holding a baby?  Take your pick, either one works for me.  Yesterday, I only got half the laundry folded before both of them woke up so we improvised: Dove sprawled in my lap while we discussed laundry folding techniques, and Bun watched attentively from her swing, taking mental notes, I'm sure.  Hey, I figure since most of the laundry is theirs, they should start learning how to fold early.  Like now.

Mom and Dad both work from home, at opposite ends of the house, and we all convene in the kitchen occasionally to check in, shuffle bottles of milk around, and sympathize with C. for feeling like a dairy cow (moo) since she is c.o.n.s.t.a.n.t.l.y. pumping in between conference calls and Skype meetings.  As the afternoon dips into evening, the babies get into their witching hour and start to cluster feed and nap in twenty to thirty minute chunks, just as Cricket comes bounding through the door home from school.  It literally takes one adult per child to pull the evening off, and even then we're still sometimes feeling overwhelmed trying to keep track of everything and keep everyone on task.  But oh, you guys, it's amazing.  It's so much fun.  I love them already, I really do.  I found a new family and they found me.  Here's to yet another fresh start that brings me joy, laughter, and a whole lotta love.