When they're not sleeping...

They're eating, eating, and eating. (And, yes, pooping, but we'll save that for another time.) I'm here today to give you a glimpse of the good, the bad, and the exhausted with respect to feeding.

The good: It's so easy to look like a good parent when you're awake and in public. Note the individualized attention I'm able to give Juanito here, the bottle tilted at just the right angle, the child held in the most comfortable position.

But look again. Do you see how fragile this scenario is? It all hinges, really, on Sarita. As long as she's quiet, the scenario is intact, but the moment she decides to scream her Wail of Hunger, I move into doubletime child care, and instead of one child being held, no child is being held, because the parent's hands are busy holding bottles for the two children lying on the blanket/the bed/what have you. (That's why you don't see single parents at the park with their twins-- this shot was taken by Juan during our visit to the Iwo Jima Memorial.)

One might suggest that I stagger the feeding times so that each child has his/her own turn. Nice idea, except that one feeding event can take up to an hour, and with feedings taking place every 3 hours or so,... well, you do the math.

The bad: That's when you're alone and the babies are both, suddenly, famished or otherwise unhappy. They scream like cats and cry unnegotiably. All of this is designed, physiologically, to break my heart.

Sometimes it's not really hunger that's at the root of discontent, but it takes a while to figure this out, bottles flying, spit-up flowing. When all else fails, I turn to the one sure thing that will calm them. I call it "My One Sure Thing," but it's really TWO sure things, if you get my drift. When we're at home, I whip out the EZ2-Nurse Double Breastfeeding Pillow, and voila! I feel like on of those Hopi Storyteller dolls, her children attached to her like Velcro, always wanting more. (If only there were such a Velcro... think of the many uses!)

Equipment aside, part of dealing with crying has been not to let it make me crazy. In the hospital, someone gave me a very useful piece of advice: when the babies cry, just imagine that they're singing to you-- and that crying is the only song they know. This works. When they cry in tandem, I listen for harmonies and try to add the third voice.

Even so, I do become a bit crazy on occasion-- just ask Juan. Luckily, he is able to board the runaway Crazy Train and slow it waaaaay down.

The exhausted: Here, Dad has fallen victim to what I call Baby Bottle Narcolepsy, whereby the feeder loses consciousness within seconds of inserting the bottle into the baby's mouth.

Notice the unfinished bottle in one hand, the TV remotes in the lap, the three-way sleepfest going on. This is our life.

It's not very often that I actually hold both babies at once. It's a safety thing. Papa Juan took this photo and then de-babied me after the love in. I adore Juanito's expression here.

Family Time at Iwo Jima Memorial

I know, I know... going to the Iwo Jima Memorial is not foremost in the minds of most new parents, but after finishing our first infant massage class (more on this later), we found ourselves craving some monument time.

The plan was to find a parking spot near the Lincoln Memorial, but... Right turn here, left turn there, and surprise!-- we're on Memorial Bridge crossing the Potomac. Going with the flow, we found a nice parking spot close to the Iwo Jima Memorial instead. Enter the Double Snap-n-Go stroller, a miracle of engineering that allows us to make our two infant car seats function as a double stroller of sorts.

We happened to arrive as a tour group of WWII veterans were posing for a picture in front of the memorial. I struck up a conversation with one man and learned that they and their families get together in Arlington every year, coming from all over the country. I asked the man where he'd traveled from, and guess what? He's from my home town of Bakersfield, California. Suddenly, I was talking with his friends from Tehachapi and other friends from nearby. Small world.

Then we, the Caballero-Taylors, became the sight to see. Twins! A boy and a girl!

A pair of twins in the group, grown women in their 50's, were alerted to our presence, and suddenly we were having our picture taken with the twin ladies in their matching hats AND their mother (with whom I felt a special instant bond). Lovely.

The weather was lovely, so we took a rest in the shade under some nearby trees. Sarita and Juanito slept soundly on their blanket while their parents marveled at how simple it can be, if only for a matter of an hour or two: these two new people can really go places so long as you've got a well-equipped diaper bag.