Sleep = Commodity

I'm running on about 5 and a half hours of sleep per night. I've never been the strongest sleeper either. I used to have to lie in bed for a good 20 or 30 minutes before drifting off.

But now I could sleep on shards of glass if given half a chance.

It's interesting in a way. I'm sort of learning a new skill and am amazed at how the body can adapt to any situation. Somehow, I'm getting through the day on this minimal rest and still manage to get stuff done at work.

Unfortunately, I remain a grumpy bastard in the morning. This causes much chagrin with Heather who has to put up with it. On numerous occasions while sitting with one of the boys at 6 a.m. bleary eyed and half delirious, I will spout out a declaration that I think I'm getting sick.

Heather replies that she feels she is too, but instead of getting sick in a physical she probably means she's getting sick of my cranky-ass. This is a fair comment considering that she gets about 3 to 4 hours of sleep in one stretch max. I'm surprised she hasn't karate-chopped me yet when I go on about how tired I am.

Anyway, I keep having to remind myself that this isn't permanent. Eventually the boys will start sleeping through the night.

Right now that seems like some impossible event. Like winning the lottery or being an astronaut or something. My mind reels at the very thought of actually going to bed at night and waking up in the morning without interruption.

I fantasize about it from time to time. If someone invented some kind of gadget or product that enabled babies to sleep through the night from the day of birth, then that person would be a gazillionaire.

But through it all, Lachlan and Finn will do things that sweetly distract me from my slumbering state. We bathed them last night. There is something undeniably enjoyable about bathing your child. The way they enjoy the warm water, and the soft murmurs they make as you pass the soapy suds over their bodies.

Without sounding weird about it, seeing them completely naked is compelling. For the one reason that this is how you first saw them when they entered this world and our lives.

These moments pull you back into the warmth of parenting. It would just be easier if sleep wasn't such a commodity.

Ol' Faithful

So, I get about 4 ounces of formula down Finn this morning.

He looks up at me, gazing contentedly, and I congratulate myself on a successful feeding. All seems well with the universe.

This momentary bliss is interrupted by an ungodly stream of the aforementioned formula returning back to me in a streaming fountain right out of his mouth. I don't mean a little bit of upchuck, but the mothership of all upchuck. It should be made into a noun and capitalized to The Upchuck.

I stare down at the mess as it spreads across my chest, my legs, the sofa.

I then look at Finn. He stares back like "What's the big deal?"

This has been going on for a couple of weeks ago, and the worst part is that when it happens, it only happens when I feed him. Guh-reat.

So, we see the doctor today for the boys' scheduled check-up. He asks "Does it happen every feeding?"

"No, only when I feed him", I reply somewhat sheepishly.

"Well then, you're gonna have to feed him slower."

I have to admit, I'm relieved. At least it's not something wrong with him. Both boys weigh over 10 pounds already and are growing well. This Exorcist-like vomiting has been disconerting to say the least.

Sorry Finn, I'm learning as we go pal.

Navigation.........

You can read all the books you want. Heather and I did. We read a lot of them.

You can talk to people who already have kids for hours about their own experiences raising children. We did this too.

But, NOTHING really prepares you for what happens. It's so personal. So individual.

When I first looked down at my sons when they were born I knew that a new chapter was starting. It was such a clear moment, and my life crystallized right then.

From one day to the next, my world was turned right around. In a matter of hours, many things were different. Some would remain the same, but many would not. The responsibility factor was undeniable. Up until this point I had never been responsible for sustaining a life, or lives as the case may be, aside from my own.

Man, did that ever change.

Changing diapers? Had no idea up until then. Feeding a baby? No clue. HOLDING a baby? Nope. Some things are learned quickly by necessity.

I remember that Finn went almost 3 days without having a poop. We became anxious despite reassurances from our doctor. When the day finally arrived and his diaper was unveiled to show a concoction of green goo, Heather and I were doing high-fives.

I've never been so happy to see crap in all my life.

Whoever said that baby poop doesn't smell, doesn't have babies though.

These are the kinds of things I had no experience or concept of how to deal with. Yeah, we have read the books and take advice from others, but never before have I felt like such a navigator in uncharted seas.

Sometimes when I look down on my boys while they sleep in their crib it feels like the sweetest arrow has pierced me through the heart........

Birth

On February 15, 2006 Heather and I became parents.

We became parents to twin boys.

Lachlan Stephen Brockway Huegel was born at 5:19 p.m. and weighed 6.8 lbs

Finn Andrew Brockway Huegel followed a minute later at 5:20 and was a bruising 7 lbs even

This site is for them. It's also for me.