Who is Going to Dress Me?

I struggled out of bed this morning only to discover I should have already been leaving for work. In between the 1 AM feeding, the 4 AM feeding, and “The Boy” waking up at 5:30 AM and screaming for "Dada" like somebody had lit his polyester pajamas with feet on fire, the alarm got turned off. I am not a morning person to start with, but I am REALLY not a morning person when I am running late. I shot out of bed, showered, deodorized and dressed in record time. I made an English muffin and bowl of cereal to consume on the drive to work and rushed out the door. I was lucky to remember to grab my lunch.  Unfortunately, I didn't realize I had forgotten the coffee I was bringing for everybody in the office until I was about to get on the toll-road. Showing up without coffee on a morning like this wasn't an option, so I turned around and returned home to grab it, thereby making me even later.

The day unfolded in a fairly typical fashion, so it wasn't until I was using the restroom after lunch that I recognized something strange. Looking down at my pants, I noticed the tag on my boxers was on the front. "That is strange,” I thought. When I looked closer, I realized having the tag at the front of your boxers means you are an idiot, and don't know how to put your clothes on properly. Apparently, I am so brain dead at the moment that I don't even know how to put on a pair of underwear. Even worse, I didn’t  notice for over six hours that my skivvies are back side front. I would like to think that had I been wearing the thong Mrs. B got me for Christmas, I would have been able to tell the difference . . . but at this point I am not sure that I could.

Longshot
In the last couple of nights we have had fairly good luck with the Twin-i-kins sleeping for sizable chunks of time (3-4 hours). The Boy started sleeping through the night at about six weeks, so here is to hoping the twins get there soon. Mrs. B has been getting up with them during the work week, but on the weekend, we work together. In the wee hours of the weekend, I have had time to formulate my new theory on getting a baby, let alone two of them, to sleep through the night.
Having one baby is initially very difficult, but you eventually get that kid to sleep through the night. With two adults on duty it is actually pretty easy to get a solid chunk of sleep from time to time. If you will excuse the basketball reference, it is kind of like being a #1 or #2 cede in the NCAA tourney. There is enough talent that you can pretty much handle anything that is thrown at you and come out on the other side fairly well rested. You may have bad night personally, but there is always another all-star ready to step in and share the load.

Having twins is a completely different story. You are no longer the favorite to win night in and night out. Heading into our nightly routine, I have the feeling that we are more like the #16 or #15 cede. We can go out and hit all our shots and still not get much sleep. In order for my team to win (solid chunk of sleep), we need to have our best game and a hefty amount of luck, and even when that happens you most likely still aren't going to "win.”  This is made harder by the fact that we know success in the past.

I know that very soon the twins are going to grow out of this phase and start sleeping larger chunks of time, but during this period of sleep deprivation, I can't seem to focus on when that will start happening. Thankfully, I have the most awesome friend and partner to share the load. Or, perhaps more accurately, I help her share the load, because she does so much.

Minor Baker is sleep-deprived once again with the addition of a new daughter to make him the father of four. When he's not changing diapers or catching a catnap, he can be reached at minorbaker@gmail.com.