In March of my freshman year of college, I sat knee-to-knee in the cramped, messy office of my Humanities professor. He sat quietly, shuffling through some of my tests and graded essays while I fidgeted in my chair, ready for this mid-term conference to be over, especially since it had been a week (or a few) since I had actually gone to his class. Eventually, he looked up at me over the top of his glasses and said, "So I guess you are in love."
I remember blushing from head to foot, and I think I stammered out a "What? How did you ...? What do you mean?"
He smiled and said, "Happens every spring. Somebody falls in love and stops coming to class. Something about love that makes 'em disappear."
Seventeen years later, and I guess that pattern still holds true in my life. I know I've quite disappeared from this space, from my email inbox, from Thank You notes and acknowledgements.
Because, y'all. I'm so in love.
I am cuckoo crazy in love with these little men, and I can hardly even grasp the reality that they are really here. And somehow - magically, wonderfully - I'm even more in love with my girls and ridiculously smitten with that good lookin' guy who distracted me and kept me from my Humanities class all those years ago.
I'm still pecking away at their birth story, but it's slow-going work. It's taking me longer to process than I anticipated. Big feelings are still swirling, and I'm sorting through them privately before I share them here.
In the meantime, I wanted to take a moment to really introduce you to our baby boys:
He's the older of the two, born one minute ahead of his brother, though he is significantly smaller. He was 5 lbs, 5 oz at birth. At two weeks, he was up to 5 lbs, 12 oz, and he continues to nurse with such a fervor that it's clear he's determined to catch up to his (not so) little brother as soon as possible.
John Kyle is the sweetest - SWEETEST - baby ever. He only cries when he is really, really hungry, and when he is awake, he seems to just drink in the world around him with quiet amazement. In the womb, he was so chilled out and laid back, I spent many hours worrying about him, trying to get him to move and kick around in there. So far, he continues to be incredibly content.
If all of this Sweetheart-ness continues, I am going to be an absolute ridiculous fool over that one. He already has me pretty tightly wrapped around his teeny-tiny little finger.
Kyle and I both just marvel at him. He is SO TINY. You have to remember that prior to the twins, my smallest baby was AJ who was not tiny at birth (8 lbs, 8 oz). John Kyle feels like a feather to pick up, and we just cannot resist snuggling him for hours. He's a great snuggler. We love him so.
He is officially the baby of the family, though his birth weight of 7 lbs, 11 oz seems to indicate that he is reluctant to fully embrace the role of the youngest.
Mack had a little bit of a rough start, and I'll cover that part of the story later, but he has bounced back quite nicely. He lost a good deal of weight in the hospital, but at two weeks, he weighed in at 7 lbs, 9 oz, so he is clearly back on track.
Mack is spirited. In utero, that baby never - NEVER - stopped moving, and that seems to be his overall approach to life. Even now as I type this, he is laying in the co-sleeper next to our bed, swaddled and napping but squirming, kicking, and tossing around a bit. He is just busy.
He is also quite intense. I look at him and think good Lord, he looks just like Dacey as a newborn. He really does, and he is every bit as intense as she was as a brand new one. And just like Dacey, his complexion is very reddish and really flames up when he is unhappy about something. Which is often.
Mack is stout and vocal and hilarious. And he's getting hungry so I better wrap this up. He also loves to be snuggled. And we love him so.
Many have asked how the girls are doing, and I think they are doing quite well, all things considered.
Aliza Joy loooooooves the babies. LOVES. THEM. From the minute she wakes up until she goes to bed at night, she asks "Can I hold a baby?" She fawns over them, puts their pacis in when they fall out, strokes their soft baby hair, talks to them, and is generally just adapting to the role of Big Sister quite famously.
She is, however, five-and-a-half and we have certainly had some displacement issues. Nothing unusual or abnormal, but there have been tears and there has been angst. But overall, she's still pretty elated that the babies are here.
Dacey is not quite the fan of babies that AJ is, but she does like to hold them and talk to them every once and while. She gets quite concerned when one of them is fussy and is quick to try to help them feel better.
That's us right now. There's just a lot of milk, a lot of nursing bra spillage, a lot of napping, a lot of recovering, and a lot of diapers. OH MY WORD, the diapers. You can't even imagine. Or maybe you can. It's kind of unthinkable, though.
Thank you, thank you for kind words, messages, and emails. We continue to feel so very, very loved and supported. May all of the grace you have shown us come back to each of you tenfold.
And now I'm off to get my fix of milk drunk baby love!