Recently I received a request to write about a day in my life. Unfortunately that's kind of like asking someone to tell you where the beginning of a circle is. A circle has no beginning or end - kind of like a "day" for me. I'll start with the morning because that makes the most sense, but when you haven't slept all night the night before it doesn't make as much sense as you would think.
In addition to its unambiguous start and finish, every day is different ... and much the same. Sometimes we have things like doctor's appointments or visits from friends, but the basic concept is still the same. Feed, replace pacifiers, change diapers, laundry, dishes, cooking, and answering a million questions.
I've never been a huge fan of the TV show "24" but I watched a few seasons. It would always baffle me how Jack Bauer never went to the bathroom. When you're saving the world, you don't have time to pee. Guess what - when you are at home with a 3 year old and twin infants you don't often have time to pee either. Then again, Jack wasn't sustaining his life on Diet Coke exclusively. Sure, I'm not being shot at (with bullets at least), but it's still pretty intense. (Don't bother asking what I am being shot at with - use your imagination). My assailants are not foreign or domestic terrorists, but tiny little toothless people inflicting not physical, but mental anguish on me, their target.
So the day starts between 6 am and 7 am. Luckily Ken is very hands on and many times takes the night shift, especially if I have had an especially tough day. Please don't get in line to tell me how lucky I am. I know I am fortunate to have a husband willing to participate in the raising of our children, but luck is only half of the deal. The other half is necessity. I'll stop now for fear of going off on a tangent that will only make everyone think I am certifiably insane.
I get up (if I am ever asleep in the first place) and make bottles - this involves formula powder of the most expensive variety as my kids have allergies to the cheap stuff (go figure), rice cereal as my kids have reflux that causes them to spit up everything the eat without the cereal, and about 17 pieces that make up a Dr. Brown's bottle. For those who don't know, Dr. Brown's bottles are supposedly he best thing for reflux and gas. Dr. Brown himself is a sadistic master of torture who gets his kicks from knowing that not only do all the pieces have to be assembled for the bottles to work, but they have to be disassembled, rinsed and sterilized. The twins are also on reflux meds three times a day. While I make bottles for the first feeding, I get Camille's breakfast ready (sometimes she is already awake) and disassemble and rinse the bottles from the night before (usually 4-6 bottles) and load them into the dishwasher. The dishwasher HAS to be started then or else we will not have bottles for the rest of the day (we only have as many as we need since Dr. Brown also drives a freakin Ferrari because he charges so much for these bottles). I start a load of laundry then feed the babies.
Feeding the babies is its own challenge. We choose to feed them one after the other instead of tandem (propped up at the same time) since they rarely get one on one attention except at these feedings. They eat every three hours so here's the math: Change Sawyer's diaper, give him his reflux meds and start feeding his around 8 am. Once he burps and gets another diaper change since he typically poops during the first morning feeding it is approximately 8:40 am. Put him down and pick up Noelle who has at this point probably been crying for about 15 minutes since she's now hungry and ready to eat. Change her, dose and give meds and feed her. She eats very slowly so it's usually 9:15 am by the time we finish. Then I get Camille cleaned up from breakfast and dressed. It's 9:40 now. I get a shower and get dressed. I put on tennis shoes because I am literally running for the rest of the day and my feet need the support. If no one is screaming I usually get to pee before my shower (yay! Take THAT Jack Bauer!). Once I finish I transfer clothes into the dryer and put another load to wash, unload the dishwasher, reload the dirty dishes and bottles and get bottles ready to feed the babies again. During all of this I am stopping many times to wipe spit-up, change diapers, replace pacifiers or soothe babies (since I know you are wondering why it takes me so long to do these simple household chores). The truth is, everything takes more than twice as long. Writing this blog entry is going on 5 hours now since I keep having to stop for various reasons. Exhausted yet? That was just three hours....
I won't bore you with the rest of the day - the previous paragraph repeats itself multiple times with variations thrown in like lunch, Camille going down for a nap, cursing out telemarketers, cooking dinner, cleaning and making appointments. It takes a great deal of planning to make the days go smoothly (yes, that was a smooth day I was describing). On Sundays I plan the dinner menu for the week and make sure I have everything I need to make all the meals. On Tuesdays Camille has dance class so on Mondays I make sure her leotard, etc are clean and her tap and ballet shoes packed and in the car. Yesterday we had an appointment for the twins to get shots so that involved all of us getting dressed and out of the house on time then when we finally got home and settled Noelle had a reaction and we had to go back. So Tuesday was spent "catching up" on laundry, dishes, etc since I was "out of the office" all day Monday. Eventually we will get to the point where we can attempt outings of the recreational sort but for now it's easier just to stay put.
I can remember when Jon & Kate plus Eight first aired and everyone was remarking how miserable it must be to live with Kate in all her regimented glory. I totally get it. It's not fun a lot of the time, but it's the way it has to be if we are going to survive this. Controlling the chores, schedules, outings, etc allows me to let go of the many things I am not able to control these days like sickness, lack of sleep, not sleeping in the same bed with my husband and gassy, fussy babies. It's a coping strategy. And while I will say that in recent episodes of Kate plus Eight Kate has started to dress a little less than classy with her 4 inch heels, halter and short shorts on her vacation to NYC (she complained incessantly about the heat but not her feet hurting??) she has her stuff together. We may only be "Ken and Kristyn plus Three" but anyone who has multiples can tell you that one plus one doesn't equal two.
So there it is - a day in my life. Probably not all that interesting, but with any luck the end result will be well-rounded kids. This post wasn't as funny as my previous one but if you come for the humor don't fret because I'll be back with more soon. Likely the next time I am in public and someone asks me if the babies are twins (no, jackass, the hospital gave us an extra one).
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