Crazy!

Right now our lives are completely and utterly crazy. I am working full-time, Jeff is busy with soccer two nights and two weekend days each week, and we are trying to move.

Yesterday we closed on our house, and all went well. We took all three kids with us to the closing, and they were actually incredibly good. I filled R's backpack with all sorts of things to do, and she just spread out on the floor and mostly entertained herself while we were there. The boys wanted to be held the whole time, but otherwise they were good. We later figured out that at almost five months, they were confused by the whole experience and just needed to cuddle for comfort.

The madness had somewhat pushed the boys over the edge. For the past two nights they have had a SCREAMING fest in the evening. On Sunday I was alone with the kids while Jeff was at soccer when the screaming began. I spent about 15 minutes trying to console them. At that point, R was crying too, and I couldn't take it anymore. I scooped up everyone, left dinner on the table where it was, and we went for a walk. Everyone was quiet by the time we got to the end of our little driveway.

Last night Jeff was home with me when the screaming began. Without taking a walk, the only way to console the boys was for us each to hold one and to go to separate ends of the little house. Then, once we got them calmed down, they both ate. After that, I tucked them in, and they both slept for 12 hours, only getting up once in between to eat.

After last night's screaming fest, Jeff and I finally realized why we were required to watch a video on shaken baby syndrome before the boys could be discharged from the hospital. We all know not to shake a baby. It has devastating, if not fatal, effects. If you have one screaming baby, you do what you can to console him or her, and when all else fails, you walk away. But two screaming babies create an entirely different level of frustration.

But, given how well the boys responded once we got them out of earshot of the other screaming baby, fed them, and cuddled, we know this will be okay. And in a couple of weeks, we will be done with the moving madness.

On a happier note, the boys development has been out of control for the past week. After writing about his brother's accomplishments, M apparently was jealous, because two weekends ago, he was the first to reach for a toy and put it in his mouth. So then L had to bat at toys to try and grab them (although M had actually been doing that for awhile now). Following that, M decided to work on scooting by pushing up on his arms and kicking as hard as he could. He's not really going anywhere yet, but I have a feeling he'll be moving by the time he's six months old. L is moving all over the place these days, but he kinda looks like a boat missing an oar. He rolls all over the place, but for the most point, he just pivots around his big ol' noggin. On Sunday, out of nowhere, M rolled from his front to his back. He is dangerously close to rolling back the other way. L, on the other hand, loves to just lay on his back eating toys. L has also taken to sleeping with a blankie, and our little Linus likes to grab it with both hands and suck on it.

Spelling

Yesterday R and I were playing with sidewalk chalk. She wanted me to write words. First I wrote her name, she read the letters, then she excitedly shouted her name. I next write M-O-M, and she proudly read, "Mom!" Finally, I wrote D-A-D. She looked at it, thought about it for a second and said, "JPo!"

Baby Update

A couple of nights ago, I was sitting at the table eating dinner with L in my lap. R walked by singing. L decided to sing too. Very loudly. He was screeching and squawking right along, and he was so proud of himself!

Last night L finally mastered rolling over. He was lots of fun. We would put him on his belly, and he would instantly roll on to his back. So we'd flip him back on his belly, and he would roll over again. We did this many times. What a great toy!

M is not rolling over. He has too much belly! But he loves to do push-ups. In fact, he is much more comfortable playing on the floor than L. could spend hours playing on his belly, as long as we don't "abandon" him. The minute we leave the room to go take care of the dishes or laundry or another one of our many children, he wails. He does not like to be alone. He was also the first to bear weight on his legs, and he loves to stand with support. He spent much of the evening standing and trying to move his right leg as though he were walking. We keep reminding him that he really needs to learn to sit up first!

When it comes to talking, M was the first to coo, but he "talks" less than L. And where L likes to have "conversations", there is none of that with M. He only talks when he decides to, and he prefers to deliver monologues. If you interrupt him with encouraging questions, he shuts up. But then, when he's ready, he will babble on again.

And one more random thing, in looking at pictures of the boys, I realized that in all pictures in which they are near each other, L is reaching out and touching M. Interesting.

Noisy Nights

When we initially decided to let the boys sleep in our room for the first few months of their lives, it never occurred to me that this meant I would be sharing my sleeping quarters with three boys. And I certainly never thought about how noisy boys are, even when they are sound asleep. At times it seems like there is always someone burping, farting, or snoring. That's just the way it is.

But since the boys have been born, there have been a lot of other noises too. As sleeping newborns, M sounded like a contented little lamb, and L sounded an awful lot like a donkey. My husband used to joke that as they hauled me away to the nuthouse, I would still be going, "Baa, baa, baa. Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw," since that is all I heard all night. (And after enough time spent listening to that, I was pretty much a confirmed nut.)

As the boys got a little older, these noises stopped, but there were other noises. M went through a grunting phase. A very loud grunting phase, and for some reason, his grunts increased in volume throughout the night to the point that I spent two weeks sleeping on the couch in the living room starting around 4 a.m. each morning. The deep sleep that went with the grunting also correlated with a corresponding drop in M's heart rate. A low resting heart rate would be a good thing in anyone else, but the poor little guy was on his apnea monitor, so just as he started sleeping well, his hideously piercing monitor would go off, startling the whole house awake. We were not sad to see the monitor go.

The last couple of weeks, things have actually been quiet. The boys are sleeping much longer stretches, and M has even slept all the way through the night twice. (He went 11 hours without eating! We never thought that would happen with Chunky Monkey!) I had gotten so used to the noise, that there have been a couple of times where I woke up in a mild panic and went to check on the boys just to make sure they were still breathing.

Last night we got a whole new set of noises. At 4:00 a.m., L decided to chatter. This was no quiet cooing or happy playing. The kid went on and on. Apparently he had a lot to say! As cute as it was, after about 20 minutes, I decided it was time for him to eat since he had awoken both parents and dogs, and M was starting to stir. Thankfully, he wanted to nurse back to sleep. Hurray for breastfeeding!

Dancing Mommies

Over the weekend we were watching basketball while eating dinner. The subject of UNC came up and we had the following conversation with R.

J: Do you want to go to college at UNC?
R: YEAH!
J: What do you want to be?
S: Do you want to be a doctor?
R (in her most patronizing tone since we should know better): No, cheerleader.
S: You know, some people have two jobs. They are a cheerleader and have another job. Do you want two jobs?
R: No. One job. Cheerleader.

This conversation has actually been repeated since then. Aaaaugggh.

Busy Friday

Busy day! Took the boys to the doctor this morning for their four month checkup. All is was well, and right now they are sleeping off the effects of the current round of immunizations. M was 12 pounds, 6 ounces, which means he is finally officially on the charts (as compared to other, full-term, four-month-olds) when it comes to weight. He was 22 1/2 inches long which was just under the chart height, so he may catch up by his six-month checkup. L is up to 10 pounds, 5 ounces, which is obviously a lot less, but his weight has grown exponentially since his last checkup. He is 21 1/2 inches long, so he is staying consistently an inch shorter than M.

After their appointment, I brought them home, grabbed R, and she and I went out to lunch at Panera. She gets to go on father-daughter dates all the time while they are running errands, but she and I rarely get to do fun stuff together, so I decided to seize the opportunity. She opted not to eat off the kids menu because she was in the mood for soup. She managed to put away most of an adult-sized bowl of minestrone soup along with the huge chunk of sourdough bread they gave her. She also put a decent dent in my turkey sandwich and bag of chips.

On a total side note, each morning, she and her dear ol' dad look at the page-a-day calendar and discuss the date. She did not like February. She cried when it was time for March 1st and February had only gone until the 28th. That was all wrong! This morning she looked at the calendar and said the day was "twenty-zero." Ya know, you can't argue with that logic!

As we were checking out the baked goods at Panera on our way out, my phone rang. Our realtor was calling. Our home inspector had finished much earlier than anticipated and wanted to know if I wanted to meet with him then or keep our later appointment. I decided to go ahead and meet him early, so R and I left without buying a dessert (probably a good thing, although kinda sad), stopped at Subway on the way home to buy lunch for my poor husband, and headed home. I dropped off R, switched cars, and headed off to our new house.

I got there and met our inspector. Our realtor had actually encouraged us not to be present for the inspection. Our inspector loves his job, is very thorough, and is a talker. The realtor attended one inspection at which the buyer wanted to be present for the entire thing. It took six hours. I don't have that kind of time. I'll trust the signed report!

As it turns out, there was NOTHING wrong with the house. The inspector was a little overwhelmed and pretty apologetic about this. The best he could come up with was the sensors on the garage door opener that keep the door from crushing a child weren't working, but the inspector had already fixed that. The house has a sprinkler system (fancy-shmancy!), but the sprinkler heads were all buried after two years of no-use due to a ban on watering. The inspector dug them out, and they all worked. Other than the switch box missing a screw, everything else was fine. We got lucky!

Moving

Crazy times around here. We've been busy looking at houses, and as of late Thursday night, we are under contract to buy a house. Yes, we will be moving soon.

Moving at any time is always crazy. Moving with three kids under three will be extra crazy. We had feared that house hunting would also be crazy, but overall it went pretty well. We've been looking at houses online for months, and we spent several weeks driving around, determining where we really wanted to live. What we never anticipated though, were how strong R's opinions would be about the whole process.

Because we had done so much prep work, we actually only spent one day looking at houses, and R loved every minute of it. It helped that one owner had chocolate chip cookies out for us, and another had a fantastic wooden swing set that she got to play on, but I think she would've loved the process anyway. She really liked snooping and looking at people's things. She had fun in the one vacated house we saw too. She eagerly ran from room to room opening and closing doors. When we told her it was time to go home, she had a complete meltdown. She really wanted to look at more houses.

Knowing how she fears change, as soon as we got home that day, we started talking about how we might move to a new house, just like the Berenstain Bears did. She was okay with it, but she made it clear she would not live in the "sand house." She had fallen on the sand under the wooden swing set, and apparently that fall had ruined that house for her. She was very firm on not living there. Thankfully, that wasn't the house we picked.

The house we are buying was one of her favorites. They have a tween daughter, and her room is a bright, beachy blue. Our pink princess loved this room. In fact, she liked it so much, she tried to pull the covers back on the bed so that she could have a camp out under the covers. So I reminded her of this fact when we told her that we really were moving. Oddly, although she remembered the room, that was not how she remembered the house. She called it "cat door house" in reference to the fact that their is a cat door (like other people have doggie doors) in the door that leads from the kitchen to the garage. So that will be our new home. The cat door house.