When we were pregnant with the twins—okay, when my husband was gloating and I was miserable on bed rest—people kept giving us parenting advice.
Sleep now, you won’t sleep when they get here. (Obviously, THEY have never been on bed rest with not much else to do.)
Buy multiples of everything—clothes, bottles, blankets, pacifiers. After all, you are having two.
Shouldn’t you be eating for three?
Should you be eating that much?
Is that Pepsi healthy for you?
I could go on and on. Trust me, I know they meant well. But, some of the stuff still cracks me up. My absolute favorite was “Let them cry it out.”
Have you ever been stuck in a house with TWO screaming infants? So what if they are spoiled growing up because I picked them up when they cried. At least I am not enjoying them from a padded room in an insane asylum!
Then, the colic that wasn’t colic began. Give Troy some peppermint. Give him lemon juice. Run the vacuum.
That crap didn’t work. Every night, Don and I dreaded witching hour… between 6 and 10, Troy would completely lose it. EVERY. NIGHT.
I would have to stand—in a certain spot in the living room that creaked—and rock him back and forth and “beat” his bottom in a rhythm to get him to calm down. If that didn’t work, out came the Eagles’ Greatest Hits. (He has great taste in music, what can I say!) Nothing else would work… not even another Eagles album… it had to be the greatest hits. By the third or fourth song, he was zonked out.
Everyone had an opinion—do this, do that. You’re doing it wrong. After going through that, I tend to not dole out advice for new moms unless they ask.
The best parenting advice I got from my OBGYN who also has twins.
She said, “You’ll figure it out. Just do what you think is best and take lots of pictures, they grow up fast.”
How right she was.
Don and I are still “figuring it out” as we go, but we are doing the very best we can to raise healthy, happy, smart kids.
So far, we’ve done a damn good job. And we have the pictures to prove it.