I read with interest, earlier this week, the articles about the new octuplets born in LA. Being the mom of twins and a rather rotten prenatal incubator, I cringed. I could barely hold onto 9 pounds and 1 ounce of baby much less 17 or more. It was that last ounce that drove us over the edge.
So here are my boys, Baby A and Baby B. They were about 7 in this picture and much more than 9 pounds. (I am too lazy to scan an earlier picture. We do have a priceless hospital picture with Baby A flipping off the photographer. A nifty harbinger when a kid at 34 weeks gestation already has a 'tude.)
Anyway, I don't know what it would take to get 8 babies to cook long enough. For A&P I did all the right things (ate lots of peanut butter, shrimp, Fruit Loops, and oatmeal, yes all at once) but still ended up languishing on my left side for 5 weeks and delivering 8 weeks early. The worst part was that the TV was on the right side of the room. Bonus.
Tim would pack a cooler full of my favorite snacks (sandwiches- lots of them) every morning, bring me the paper, wish me luck for the next 10 hours and shuttle off to work. I lounged in my bed like a three toed sloth and tried to imagine what on earth life would be like with two infants, never imagining someone could saddle themselves with eight infants without a childcare license.
Babies are cute. Babies barf on the cat. Babies drain your bank account. Babies melt your insides because you just love them so much you might bust. Babies keep you from sleeping for more than 2 hours at a time, for the LOVE OF GOD! Babies eat wallpaper and scale dressers and ask for cash and cell phones and talk about girls and go on scary camping trips when it's 15 degrees and ask you to bail them out of jail. (That last one is me looking ahead)
These darlings, arriving 8 weeks early at a mere 3 pounds 15 ounces and 5 pounds 2 ounces turn 12 next week. Some people count diapers, I should have started counting the liquor and I'm thinking that the tough stuff is just around the corner.