Daddy Diary: UltraMegaSuper Update May 10, 2009

They’re home! (The two sweetest words in language right now.)

Alexandra came home with us on Friday afternoon, and we picked up Norah on Saturday morning. Having both girls at home – and in the same crib (we’re seeing how that goes – so far quite well) is just incredible.

A few thoughts on things:

FEEDING = It’s crazy. Trying to get them to take a bottle, then when they finally do – look out! They chug like there’s no tomorrow. It’s scary, actually. And then they get out of breath from all the exertion of eating, then fall asleep. Then you try to pull the bottle out slowly, and their reflexes kick in. “Where you takin’ my bottle, son?” And they start chugging again like mad.

BURPING = I have two methods, both of which are “epic fail” at times, super-awesome at others. The “hold them by under the chin but don’t choke them and pat on the back” method that the nurse practitioners showed us is my weapon of choice…but the old standby of “over the shoulder” is pretty good as well.

SLEEPING = I am in a generally paranoid, freaked-out-of-my-mind-at-any-sound kind of state when they sleep. I worry that they’ll stop breathing. I worry that they’ll gag on their spitup. I worry that one will accidentally poke the other in the eye, spawning a rivalry that will last for decades.

But so far, things are great. They sleep anywhere from 2 to 4 hours at a stretch, sometimes 4.5 if they’re feeling generous (or extra-content).

DIAPERS = I never thought I would pray for somebody else to poop. That day has come. Apparently, bottle-fed babies can poop up to 3-4 times a day…or as infrequently as once every 2-3 days. And when it comes…hoo boy. I’ve been wondering if I can get some of that stuff the FBI used in Silence of the Lambs, that Clarice & Co. put under their noses to block out the stench. But you know what? It’s all good when it’s your kid, and you’re just happy they’re alive and poopin’.

One Comment

  1. That’s how my mom figures my dog’s are healthy. If they’re eating and pooping well, nothing could be absolutely wrong. Seeing her track record with dogs, I can’t dispute her logic… and hell, it’s my mom. She’s been around the block and back again so she knows what she’s talking about… or else she’s hiding the fact she has a crazy sixth sense…. or… all of the above? Who knows. Happy baby pooping though.


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