3 Months Already!

I had hoped to blog more about all the milestones and firsts with the babies, but I haven't had time.  I've actually been writing this in 5 minute intervals over the course of 4 days.  It's hard to believe they're already 3 months old.  I feel like we've shifted out of survival mode and into a more enjoyable "real life" mode.  I attribute some of this new, more enjoyable way of life to having a pretty strict schedule.  Yeah, we might miss out on going somewhere sometimes, but it's so worth it to have them both sleeping 11 hours at night and napping well during the day.  And best of all, they wake up happy and playful, and I am a much better mom when I'm rested.  It takes work and consistency, and they didn't love it the first day or two of each schedule adjustment, but it's so much better for all of us that we can all know what to expect as far as when they'll eat and sleep.  It's become kind of a joke between Matt and I that when William starts losing his mind at night, we know that it's 6:30.  Their little internal clocks are definitely set for their feeding and nap times.  Plus, if I am going to go somewhere, the last thing I want to do is spend the whole time trying to calm down two overtired, super cranky babies.  No thanks.

They've had pretty obvious personalities since before they were even born, but it's getting to be so interesting to see how those personalities develop.  William is so observant and mostly laid back (except when it's close to time to eat or when he's gassy).  He babbles a little, but it's very quiet and much less frequent than Pearl's.  He is always moving, though.  Through diaper changes, swaddling, nap time... he is always running an imaginary marathon.  I'll go to get him from his crib in the morning, and he'll be at the opposite end, turned 180 degrees.  He doesn't tire out nearly as quickly as Pearl does, but he also doesn't fight going to sleep like she does.  In the mornings, he is like a puppy - excitedly making little panting noises and wiggling all over the place when I come in to get him up.  He does this cry that sounds like "Maaaa maaaa!"  That makes Matt laugh and breaks my heart, since it is accompanied by the saddest pout you've ever seen.  He has gone from looking like a tiny, wrinkly, old man to a baby that people refer to as "chubby."   Some nicknames I've given him (in addition to him earning back "Chunk") are Mr. Wigglesworth and Silly Willy.

Mr. Wigglesworth on Easter

 Pearl is a funny little mystery.  She acts as though she isn't interested in doing something at all and then will just decide to do it one day as if she could do it all along.  She wouldn't even begin to crack a smile long after William was grinning at us on a regular basis, and then one day she just decided to start smiling and cooing.  She went from not making a peep straight to chatterbox status. Yesterday, after all this time of either just screaming or going to sleep during tummy time, she decided to roll over.  Twice. Within a minute of me putting her on her stomach.  She puts up a big fight most nights when it's bedtime, but she passes out about a minute or two into that fight.  She loves her sleep and doesn't like to miss any of her nap time. She has my crappy veins, sensitive skin, food allergies, and quick clotting blood.  Sorry, Pearl.  If she doesn't end up with my curly hair, she should be able to forgive me for the rest.  She's starting to learn how to manipulate her daddy, and I think he's ok with that.  She had her first ER visit for some scary GI stuff we've been dealing with, and she was a tough cookie.  They spent 30 minutes poking and prodding her until her little arms were cracked and bleeding from them tying and retying the tourniquet over and over, and she was still able to pull herself together and smile for the ultrasound tech after all that. I've been calling her Pearly Sue, Squirrel (because her hands are always up by her mouth), and Squirrely Pearly.

The sweetest little patient in the tiniest gown ever.

They've started interacting with each other in the last couple of weeks, though it is still rare for them to both engage with the other at the same time.  Usually, Pearl is trying to talk to William, and he's just playing and ignoring her.  Or he'll put his arm over her mouth and she'll suck on it.  And then she puts her fingers in his eyes. She also tries to hold his hand, but she's usually only successful in linking arms with him.

We get out a good bit now, although I still try to stay at home as much as possible, because I'm a hermit, and it's just easier than trying to tote the entire house with us to keep them happy at this weird age.  It can also be kind of hard to go places with them, because we get stopped a lot by people wanting to ask if they're twins.  I never thought it would happen so much, because I've never been tempted to stop strangers to talk to them about their kids, but I guess some people are just really interested.  In an hour and 15 minutes at the mall last month, I was stopped SEVEN times.  On the way back to our car today after a doctor's appointment, we were stopped 3 times.  One of them in the MIDDLE of the crosswalk by a woman with a million questions.  I mean, can we not stop on a busy street in front of a university in a big city?  Maybe I could answer your questions somewhere that doesn't put us at risk of being run over.  Then some lady just came up and said, "How old are they?  Do you breastfeed them?"  It's really strange having people ask so many questions, and sometimes I feel like I'm making a spectacle by just doing everyday things, but I guess it will become less weird as time goes on.

People have been asking me how motherhood is treating me, and it really is good.  It has it's moments where I miss sleeping past 6:30 or not having to strategically plan every outing, but I really have no complaints.  Now that the sleep deprivation is over, I think the hardest part of this parenting gig is knowing when to listen to my gut and not feeling guilty or letting my instincts get pushed aside because of what others do or say.  Whether it's the million "If your baby cries for even a minute, that's neglect" posts on Facebook or doctors trying to push me into things I don't feel are right for us, I have to continuously remind myself that I make these decisions based on what I feel is right for MY children.  I will never make decisions for them based on what others think or want me to do.  So far, my instincts have steered us right more than wrong, and I feel a little more confident with each "victory."