Tag Archives: Mike Reph

The Twins are Six Months Old!

Happy six months to Henry and Arden!

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Moms always say things like “I can’t believe they’re six months old already!” but really, I can believe it.  I’ve been with them every day and night of the last six months and I’ve immersed myself completely.  I don’t feel like I have whiplash because I wouldn’t allow myself to be caught off-guard, at least not this early in the game.  I told myself over and over that it would go quickly, and I think that reminder helped slow it down.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve buried my face in their little necks, breathing them in and saying I love you.  I often lay them both in front of me and tell them they’re my dreams come true, they’re the songs in my heart.  I look at them, look away, and by the time I look back they’re even cuter than I remembered.  Babies are opiates, I tell you.

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Mike and I notice every day how much more they’re able to connect with us, to really see us and interact.  Their laughter is carbonated joy and there’s nothing too embarrassing to do to earn it.

In the last month we’ve been getting a taste of what it will be like to actually do things with them as participants.  Over three weekends we took them to the Seattle Aquarium, the Pacific Science Center, and Pike Place Market.  We always wear them facing outward so they’re able to see the sights and be entertained by it all.  Some of the entertainment for us is the constant stream of commentary we get from people as they pass us by.  They always speak as though we can’t hear them, making comments just as they pass or pointing from three feet away.  It never bothers us; it’s actually really fun to parade our little spectacles around.

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A huge part of me is in a rapid-breath panic at the thought of being in the second half of their first year, and it’s family activities like this that keep me excited instead of in mourning.  I find that the more we do together, the more we have to look forward to, and the less there is for me to cry about leaving behind.

I read a great essay recently about parents’ tendencies to over-savor some moments of their children’s lives.  We can grasp at the present so fiercely that the moment isn’t authentic at all.  This struck a nerve with me because I’m always exclaiming, “This is the only time they’ll be 22 weeks and 3 days old ever in their entire lives!  They’ll never again fit into this onesie!   They can roll over — I miss when they were just blobs!  What if Arden never blows bubbles like this again?  What if Henry stops laughing when I reveal that it’s me behind the blanket?”   Life isn’t meant to be lived as though it’s already passed by; at times I catch myself projecting into the future imagining myself reminiscing about a moment as it’s happening.  That’s a little frightening, and it’s a slippery slope.  Soon I could be collecting their nail clippings, and we can’t have that.

With this in mind, I’m thrilled that they are exactly as they are today:  scrumptious thighs, a blush of fine hair, blue eyes for days and devastating smiles.

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*gorgeous photos courtesy of Lindsay Schuette.

Also, what my mom calls “her joy”: walking into their nursery after their naps, each of them cooing and babbling, faces lit up like Christmas at the sight of us coming to get them.  It really is one of the happiest moments of my day (or my mom’s when she’s with me) and it’s something I will carry with me the rest of my life.

To every day ahead, my loves.

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The Nursery Reveal!

Creating a nursery for twins is a unique challenge made even trickier when the babies are opposite sexes.  We waited until we found out the babies were a girl and a boy before designing their nursery, and we quickly nixed the idea of trying to make the room half pink and half blue.  It sounded like some sort of mish-mash nightmare.

After a little time on Pinterest, I decided the best approach would be a really clean, modern nursery, because of the need for two cribs (and double the clothes) and the fact that the room was fairly small.

Here is a picture of the room when it was a rarely used guest bedroom:

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The furniture, thanks to my in-loves, was gorgeous, but oversized for the space, and the color on the walls was a garish Seahawks green.  Incredibly, this room was used as a nursery for twin boys by the previous tenants, which is the only reason we can assume it was painted such a color (the photo doesn’t capture the brightness adequately).

I am not a designer by any means, and am often paralyzed when it comes to decorating, but I put my heart into making a room for the babies that conveys my love for them.  It really was a joy to create.

I enlisted the help of my friend Meredith, who works as an interior designer, to map out a floor plan that would allow for two cribs, one changing table, and a rocking chair.  I sent her the measurements of the room and the furniture we thought we were going to purchase and she created a floor plan to make it fit.

Then we got to work.  When I say we, I mean Mike.

We purchased the paint (no VOC for baby breathing safety) and he painted the entire room white, including the ceiling, because we needed a fresh canvas.  Then he, our dear friend Greg, and my father-in-love taped the walls with precision to ensure our stripes were going to be crisp and perfectly even.  They did a fabulous job.

Our color scheme was yellow, gray and white.  Gender neutral, baby friendly, and just happy.  I wanted a really happy room for the babies, and I think we nailed it.

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We chose simple, modern cribs in a soft gray color to contrast the bright wall and yellow and white chevron rug.  They are from Wal-Mart, if you can believe it, and are highly rated and made from sustainable, non-toxic pine wood.  After hours of searching, they were the best cribs at the best price — and they look exactly how I’d hoped.

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After an extensive search, I found the rocking chair from a company called NurseryWorks, as it was the only rocking chair I could find that wasn’t frumpy, old-fashioned, or incredibly 90’s (think gliders with bad fabric).  I could see using this chair in other areas of our home after we no longer need a nursery (but let’s not get ahead of ourselves as the thought of that makes this pregnant woman want to cry already).

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The curtains were generously handmade by Meredith, who is phenomenally talented at sewing.  She even added a layer of blackout fabric to the curtains so I can get the room as dark as possible for naps.  She brought several gray swatches and we chose a shade that matched the cribs, but had lots of white detail to keep the room from becoming too dark.

The little pouf is from Restoration Hardware Baby and Child and is one of my favorite parts of the room.  It’s both whimsical and highly practical as a footrest while sitting in the rocker.

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My mom gave us these adorable switch plates for the outlets that she found on Etsy; it’s hard to see here, but they have giraffes and elephants on them.

And there’s a Jonathan Adler ceramic giraffe nightlight: to die for.

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We found the changing table on Craigslist, and I’d still like to swap out the knobs on the doors for something a little more substantial.  We’ll see if I get to that in the next couple of days before the babies arrive.  If not, I don’t think they’ll mind.

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I loved organizing the changing table supplies — little bins with diapers lined up, a bin with diaper cream, ointment, etc, and tons of wipes.  The cabinet underneath has all the backup supplies and refills.  It also has a healthy stock of something I’m super excited about: cloth diapers.  YES — I am going to try to cloth diaper the babies.  A fellow twin mom from EMOMs gave me hers which is why I have the confidence to go for it; she did it without a problem, and she saved me about $600 by giving me hers (they’re $25 a piece).  Proof I’m not insane: we are not starting the cloth diapers until after at least a month (Mike maintains he’s not doing it at all, but we’ll see who wins that battle of the wills).

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I love the giraffe changing pad cover.  Giraffes are my animal association, meaning they’re the animal I most resemble.  I also happen to like them more than any other animal, which helps.

Please note the space-age camera mounted to the wall.  This takes baby monitoring to an entirely obsessive level, but it’s a level this new mom needs.  We can watch the babies sleep on our iPad and can move the camera by touching the screen.  It’s super Jetsons, and we owe Rach and Phil for the idea — they’ve been using theirs for over a year with Lillian.

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My sister, Sam, graciously made the framed artwork of animals from an idea she found on Pinterest.  Each animal is made up of the letters that spell its name.  My in-loves gave us the beautiful gray piece of art that uses the alphabet to make a little poem about how much we love the babies.


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You may be wondering where all of their clothes are hiding since we don’t have a dresser.  That was intentional, due to the size of the room.  Instead, I bought a unit with pink and blue drawers to keep inside the closet to organize all of their clothes.  There’s a drawer each for jammies, sleepsacks, socks, hats, onesies, etc., and open cubbies for swaddle blankets and burp cloths.

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The hanging storage on top keeps their day-to-day outfits, since I think it’s impractical to fold or hang tiny baby clothes when I’ll be doing laundry so frequently.  This way I can just tuck them into their cubbies (based on size of clothes) and grab what I need.

The two bins on the shelf hold all of their carriers (Mobys, Ergos, Baby Bjorns) and the Boppy is stored up there as well.

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The other side of the closet has their hamper and a few hanging outfits, as well as hanging storage for clothes that are six months and beyond.  Up top, it also has the enormous My Breast Friend for Twins.

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Confession: I often sit in the rocking chair and picture what it will be like when the babies are in their cribs, or in my arms.  It’s such a delightful room, so full of the hope and anticipation of babies on the way.

Now there’s only two things the room is missing:  the babies!

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A Gaggle of Twin Freaks

A week ago I attended my first EMOMs event.  EMOMs stands for — wait for it — Eastside Mothers of Multiples.  Yes, it’s a real club.   And yes, I was a little cagey about attending a meeting.

Something about the concept of the group hinted at a freak-show…like gathering because we all have red hair or we’re all left-handed, both clubs for which I would be eligible for membership but wouldn’t attend if you paid me.

Right before walking in I said a quick prayer that this would be helpful, not intimidating, and not make me feel like I had just joined an illicit underground network of society.  All of these prayers were answered.

First of all, there were snacks, which always warms this pregnant lady to a group of people.  Secondly, people were sitting awkwardly at various tables, not speaking, and I made the Herculean effort of sitting at a table occupied by just one couple  and introducing myself (and my snacks).  I normally loathe this sort of interaction, but my desperation to learn from the bedraggled experience of others pushed me outside my normal confines.  It turns out that being a member of EMOMs has two sides to the coin: you don’t know anyone in the room, but you have endless discussion topics with everyone because what you have in common bonds you instantly.

I found it amusing that everyone put on name tags with their twin stats:

Sarah
B/G 2 years

Adrienne
G/G 15 mos

I didn’t know this little rule so my name tag just said my name.   I suppose it could have said, “Abby, B/G due in a month” but my stomach was doing all of the talking.  Every person introduced themselves with an incredibly detailed rundown, but it didn’t sound at all TMI to me, because I  wanted to know every detail of others’ experiences.

“Hi I’m Jen, I have fraternal twin boys who are 23 months and were born at 36 weeks 5 days via c-section.”  Sometimes they’d state where they gave birth or if their kids had to be in the NICU.  It was like listing war wounds from ‘Nam in a support group while everyone nodded in understanding.

Nearly everyone already had their twins; there were only two other pregnant women in attendance.  But it was shocking to me how veteran I felt compared to them — they were saying things like “My doctor told me a lot of twin moms stop work at 28 weeks” and I found myself replying “That’s really only if you’re on bed-rest or having complications.  I’m 32 weeks and still working full-time.  You’ll be fine.”

We separated into groups based on the ages of our children, so I was in the first year group.  Our discussion topic was “Feeding the Whole Family” and they passed out great recipes for protein snacks to grab while breastfeeding your litter.  Naturally, a big part of feeding your whole family in the first few months is relying on others to do so — they highly recommended taking advantage of the free meal support EMOMs offers or having friends and family deliver dinners.  After the initial survival period, they recommended time-savers like crock-pot meals and roasted chicken from the grocery store.

It wasn’t long before we were swapping tips on everything from breastfeeding to sleep schedules, with reviews of baby products mixed in.  I grabbed for a pencil and started scribbling notes while eating my second cookie.   It was incredible to have an entire table of women who were going through exactly what I was, and some who even said, “Don’t listen to the people who say your life is over and this is the worst, hardest thing you’ll ever do.  It’s not that bad; you can do it!”

It’s a welcome sentiment right now, because lately I oscillate between uncontrollable excitement at meeting the babies, and mind-freezing terror at what lies ahead of me.  At any given moment I’m either ecstatic with anticipation or paralyzed with fear.  From what I’m told,  this is normal.  Mike feels the same way, and it’s amusing when we’re having opposite experiences.

“Oh my gosh can you imagine that a month from now we’ll be cuddling them and holding them all day?” one of us will say happily.

“Holy crap, it’s all day.  It’s every day, with two, and twenty diapers a day, and what if they scream all the time?” the other will reply, hunched in panic.

This is why I’ll continue to attend EMOMs events.  I need the cold shower of reality mixed with the soothing balm of reassurance.  And snacks.  I need lots of snacks.

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