The Scooter Pies are 8 weeks old!
Zeke is now 10 pounds 7 ounces and 21 and 3/8 inches long.
This is Zeke.
Skeeter is now 11 pounds 5 ounces and 22 and 1/4 inches long.
This is Skeeter. It is great to watch them fill out and get chubby.
This is Skeeter.
I suspect that Skeeter has dimples, but until he starts really smiling and not just chuckling in his sleep (so cute!) I won’t know for sure.
They are still in the stage my mom called the “rag doll stage”. Their heads are floppy and they are totally dependent on me for everything and they are not very interactive yet. I love this stage. I do feel like I’m playing dress up as I put on the cute onsies and outfits my family and friends gave us and take pictures for Grandma to see on Facebook.
This is Zeke.
The Scooter Pies have begun to make eye contact. They gaze into my eyes when I feed them with a compelling intensity that leads to minutes long staring matches many times daily.
Like I feared, they are sleeping for much shorter amounts of time than they did for their first six weeks. And hard as I try to put them down at the same time, they rarely both comply , so I don’t get to take advantage of the sleep as much.
It has happened more than once that I never get to lie down for the night but just rotate babies until it is time to wake the big kids up for school.
This is my bed at 5:30 this morning. Yes, Toddler Bean had a nightmare or something and needed some snuggles in the middle of the night as well. The resident Captain is off playing soldier for 3 nights and 3 days, it’s all on me.
Feeding the Scooter Pies remains my all consuming focus.
I’ve always been in the camp of “Breastfeeding is best, but don’t judge other moms.”
My current experience has laid a lot of emphasis on that DONT JUDGE part.
Currently the Scooter Pies get half their sustinence the way nature intended and half their food is formula a.k.a. gold dust.
I still hold out hope that they will move over to all “Mommy Milk” but after 8 weeks of best efforts, I’m no longer emotionally attached to that outcome, and I’m not allowing my failures to make me crazy or get me down. Because I’m doing the best I can and I know it.
I know I could increase my milk supply if I hooked myself up to the milking machine every 2-3 hours without fail. (At least all the blogger Moms of Mulitiples who successfully exclusively breastfed or exclusively pumped and fed their twins for the first 2 years of their lives promise me I can). But I physically cannot manage to do it that often because I’m either holding crying babies or saving the fridge contents from Baby/Toddler/Hurricane Beana or have fallen into narcaleptic sleep coma. And then there is the issue of I’m not the new young mom that they all are. I’m a 36 year old mom of 9. This old gray mare, she ain’t what she used to be.
So if these little Scooter Pies figure out what’s good for them, it could still happen because all the feeding time would be slashed in half.
Occasionally they get it right and it is the best:
But if not, that will be okay to.
Marvelous Pigs in Satin 