Twin Tuesdays: Two babies in one small space

We love living in Brooklyn, but one thing that's definitely lacking is space. Before the twins were born, our apartment felt pretty roomy, at least by brownstone Brooklyn standards: we had a large bedroom, a nice-sized kitchen, a huge living room, and even a separate dining area. One year, we even hosted our families for Christmas Eve! It was fantastic. But add two more humans and their stuff (and even if you live as pared-down as we do, babies still come with a lot of stuff) and you've got yourself a "four's a crowd" situation.  

Still, we've made it work, and Jack and Nellie's nursery, which used to be our 8x10 foot dining room, is hands down my favorite room in the apartment. Here's a peek into their little world, as well as six tips for making a small space work for your little ones.

1. Nix the gigantic crib(s). There are some grandiose cribs out there; they're not really our style, but even if they were, there was no way we were going to get two in our teeny nursery. We wanted something simple and classic, so we went with white Jenny Lind-style cribs. They create a small profile, and they're so sweet looking. We added Serena and Lily sheets (we saved money on the cribs so we could splurge a little on the sheets!) and blankets, and handmade blankets given to us by my great-aunt Marion.

2. Choose a "friendly" wall color and keep the walls clutter-free. The rest of our apartment is pretty neutral, but we wanted something a little brighter and more kid-like for the nursery. I'd seen Benjamin Moore's Robin's Nest used one some design blogs, and I just fell in love. It's the perfect soft aqua, and it kind of acts like a neutral. We used a lot of yellow accents, as well as light pinks and blue. The point here is to keep the room bright and airy.

3. Buy Ikea, then make it your own. Evan and I buy a lot of our furniture and accessories at Ikea, and many times our friends have been shocked to find out that's where it's from. Why? A few reasons: one, we mostly buy pieces from the Hemnes collection, which is our aesthetic (clean lines, real wood, classic details) and we mostly buy it in white, because it just looks "richer." It's one of the pricier collections at Ikea, but still cheaper than shopping at the Big Three (Crate and Barrel/West Elm/Pottery Barn) so we like it. Two, we add our own touch to anything we buy from there; specifically in the nursery, we used Anthropologie knobs on an Ikea armoire (the nursery doesn't have a closet), and we prettied up a changing table with cute polka-dotted cover and some baskets from Pottery Barn Kids. Three, we mix it with other non-Ikea furniture, which leads me to...

4. Use what you have. On July 4, 2011, Evan and I went with his parents to their country house in the Hudson Valley. We were helping them clean out their basement, when we came across his mom's sweet old dresser. It was not in great shape, but I thought it was adorable. Evan and I had just started trying to have a baby a few weeks earlier, and casually mention to his parents that we would love that dresser if and when a baby arrived. (Little did we know, I was already pregnant; I took a drugstore test when we got back to Brooklyn and a few weeks later we found out it was twins!) Evan's dad cleaned, sanded, and painted the dresser, we added Anthropologie knobs that matched the ones on the armoire, and the rest is history. It's one of my favorite pieces, just so sweet.

We found this little table down my parents' basement, and it was dark brown and a little sad looking. A few coats of white paint later, and it was the perfect addition to the room, along with the floor lamp that we already had.

5. Make it memorable. As you may have noticed, I love mixing the old with the new, and in the nursery we did that with decor as well as necessary furniture. The yellow art above the cribs and the pink alphabet poster are from Etsy. The animal print on the bookshelves is actually a Paper Source gift bag that I loved and repurposed. The "you are my sunshine" print was a gift from our dear friends Rick and Jess. Nellie and Jack have a TON of books, but only the most special ones are on display. I love how perfect Where the Wild Things Are fits with decor; the book was a gift from my sweet friend Nikki, who cried and spilled her drink when I told her I was pregnant with twins. The Peter Rabbit book set? New. The Peter Rabbit cup and saucer? Evan's from when he was a baby. The bunnies on the bookshelves are from the Brooklyn Flea, and were one of the first things Evan and I bought for them. The bunny cards on top of the armoire are from Uncle Matt, Auntie Ellen, and Luke, three of the twins' favorite people. Every time I go into their nursery, it's like a little walk down memory lane, and I can't wait to share all the stories with Jack and Nellie.

5. Everything has a place. This is kind of a mantra for small-space living. Everything has a place, and it should be kept in that place and put back in that place, lest a mess erupts. I'm a liiiiiittle anal when it comes to this, but it's really worked in their room, and it helps keep the sanity (not 100%, but it does help). So whether it's clothes, bows, blankets, diapers, bunnies, books...figure out where everything goes and then just put it back at the end of the day. Seriously. You'll thank me.

Twin Tuesdays: Riding in cars with babies

(Yes, yes, I know it's Wednesday...bear with me.)

A few months ago, I talked about our rules for traveling with toddlers in a car, which has been our exclusive mode of transportation on trips since the twins arrived. And although we're cityfolk, we also use the car a lot locally; we find it easier to get around Brooklyn with a car and we even drive it into Manhattan on the weekends (Sundays are the best because there are virtually no parking rules).

Jack and Nellie are middle-of-the-road car passengers: it's not their favorite place in the world, but it's also not The Worst (these days that's the changing table, but that's a story for another day). They still face the back of the car, which is really starting to bug me. Any time there is a back seat meltdown, I think to myself, if they were facing forward, this would be so much easier.

But it has been recommended by the American Association of Pediatrics that we keep them facing backward until they're two. AT LEAST.

Now, I know this is just a recommendation, not the law, but I'm still reluctant to change their seat positions until next March. It somehow feels different to me than the AAP's recommendation to breastfeed exclusively for a year (I didn't) or to take your child to the dentist before age one (I haven't and am dreading the day that I finally do). There is part of me that rationalizes, not following those recommendations won't lead to anything fatal. The car seat thing...might?

But only if we get into a horrific car accident, right? And would they really be ok if it were that bad, no matter which way they were facing? And what if, instead, we got into an accident while I was walking to the third row of our mini-van because that's where Jack threw his doggie? Wouldn't everyone, mom included, be a little safer if they faced forward?

What do you guys think of this? Have you switched your toddler's car seat before the two year mark? What about car seats on city buses? Taxis? Doesn't it seem like the rules are bent in those situations? I would love to hear your thoughts.

Meanwhile, if you're driving down the BQE and you see my bum sticking up in the air between the second row of seats, you'll now know why.

Twin Tuesdays: Habana Outpost Baby Breakfast

A typical Tuesday, in a heatwave, before babies: I consume a venti iced coffee from Starbucks while attempting to look cute and professional and not sweaty, even though the temperature in the subway station I just stepped out of was flirting with 105 degrees. After ten hours in an office where I have to don a cardigan because the air was that conditioned, I meet Evan and some friends at Habana Outpost for tacos, margaritas, and delicious Mexican corn on the cob. I go to bed tipsy, happy, and sleep undisturbed until 7 a.m.

A typical Tuesday, in a heatwave, after babies: I consume homemade coffee that used to be iced, but after morning toy negotiations, yogurt clean up, four readings of Dear Zoo, and two poopy diapers, it's now just sort of lukewarm with a pool of melted ice floating on top. I dress two testy, squirmy 16-month-olds (who'd rather be naked) in adorable outfits and dash into my bedroom to dress myself, attempting to look not like a woman who just escaped from a mental institution. I meet my friend Shirin and her son, Sy, for Baby Breakfast at Habana Outpost.

It's different in the daylight: there are toys strewn around the courtyard where I'm sure at least a dozen people spilled frozen mojitos the night before (but it's been cleaned). Picnic tables are empty, a rarity for this popular spot. Shirin and I grab a seat, let the kids loose, and commiserate about how toddlers are jerks sometimes. Everyone wears themselves out, I order some chicken fingers for them to eat with the overpriced organic cantaloupe I purchased next door at my favorite local market. After a too-short nap, I spend the afternoon pulling them away from the television cabinet, which we just released from it's baby-gated prison and turned into baby catnip. Facetime with Nanna, baths, night-night, pad thai, two enormous glasses of wine. I go to bed tipsy, happy, and wake up every few hours thinking I hear someone crying but don't really until 4 a.m., when I mumble to Evan, "just give him a pacifier and make sure he has Doggie," and try to go back to sleep till 7 but instead restlessly check Redfin to see if there are any new houses on the market in Pleasantville.

The Baby Breakfast at Habana Outpost gives Brooklyn parents and caregivers a place to chill on Tuesdays from 10-noon while their 0- to 4-year-olds (though it's best for walkers and swaddled infants with moms who need some company) discover new toys and splash in the fountain. It's co-hosted by My Brooklyn Baby, which sells awesome popsicle makers and other fanciful kid-related items. Habana Outpost's full menu is served, and the courtyard is almost completely shaded in the mornings. We'll be there next Tuesday, and if this heatwave keeps up, it may then be time for a 10 a.m. margarita. See you there!

Twin Tuesdays: Our 4th of July

About ten years ago, my parents bought a tiny, lovely beach house on Drakes Island, a tidal island near Wells, Maine. We'd been going to the area since we were kids, and it was so exciting to finally have a place of "our own." It's really the perfect little house to kick back and relax - and it's a seven minute walk to the beach!

Evan, the twins, and I hung out there all last week with my brother and his family, my sister, and my mom and dad. It's about a six hour drive from NYC, so we followed our first rule of toddler travel and left at night. When we woke up the next day, it was too hot to do anything other than lounge around, and that we did...along with plenty of laughing, drinking, and lobster eating.

The Island held a casual 4th of July parade, and my parents decorated the wagon for J and N. It was adorable!

They had a little bit of competition, but I think they held their own.

Jack's current list of things that "wow" him includes balls, dogs, and balloons. His mind was blown several times last week.

We gave our stroller a break, and the wagon became the twins' primary mode of transportation. (Also, how cute is Nellie's lobster dress??)

We had so much fun hanging around the house and catching up with everyone.

And then, of course, the beach.

We also spent last July 4th at the Maine house...look how much these kids have grown (though Nellie is still not amused)!

We miss everyone already and we're hoping to get back up to the house at least one more time this summer. It's no wonder Maine's slogan is "the way life should be." What a wonderful week!

Twin Tuesday: You gotta do you.

You know that show, What Not to Wear (final season is this summer!)? Stacy London and Clinton Kelly take an unfortunately dressed person (usually a woman) and give them a major wardrobe makeover and a mini life makeover. Many of the guests on the show are moms who have..."given up." They wear sweatpants and never wash their hair, and I remember watching the show a few years ago and thinking, I will never be like that when I have kids.

And now, here I am. Looking like the "before" on What Not to Wear. More like Mayim Bialik than I ever wanted to be even when she wore all those fabulous hats as Blossom many moons ago. My uniform is yoga pants (and I haven't done yoga in over a year, sooo...) and a dirty-ish t-shirt. I mean, it's sad. Stacy and Clinton would not approve. Of my clothes, or my hair. I used to have really great hair...and skin, too. And now everything is just limp and sallow.

What's the point of telling you all this? It's not because I'm vain or fishing for compliments (which I know, dear friends, would not be true because I've looked in the mirror lately and it's bad), none of that. It's not because I can't get rid of baby weight that I can't fit into nice clothes - I was never svelte to begin with and "nice clothes" to me have always been Banana Republic or Anthropologie instead of "regular clothes" from the Gap. I was never a clothes horse, but I always had style. I could be considered put-together, sexy, trendy, yet classic. I loved to look good, and now...I just don't.

The point is, someone recently asked me how motherhood has changed me. And at first I could think only of the amazing ways it has: it's made me more sensitive and patient. More responsible. More conscious of how I treat other people, from the guy in the bodega on the corner to my husband. I can say with all honesty, motherhood has made me a better citizen of the world.

But there's another side to it. The harsh, unfunny truth: I don't take care of myself anymore. And the entire time I'm not caring about myself, I sing the ballad of the mother as martyr, ohhh it's because these babies are just taking up so much of my time. I need to put them first, so where do I come in?

It is a hard balance, but I admit, I'm not even trying. Jack and Nellie always look fantastic (I'm convinced people must think I'm the nanny because there's no way Dirty Shirt is mother to those two beautiful babes), they eat incredibly healthy meals, get enough sleep and playtime and social interaction and educational enrichment. Me? For breakfast/lunch I wolfed down a cheddar scone and a chocolate chip cookie and my 3rd coffee of the day. I never go to bed early enough. I haven't read a book in...I can't remember how long. I go months without seeing close friends and doing the things I used to love to do. And I've stopped caring about how I look, not in that self-assured, "I look how I look and that's ok" kind of way...but in a, "I look pretty awful so please just don't look at me" kind of way.

I'm the stay-at-home-mom who's given up on herself, and, for me, it's been the most unexpected part of motherhood. How did this happen? And how do I even begin to change back? Going to bed early might help. Eating fruit when my kids eat fruit, little things like that. But I think, most importantly, I have to remind myself that even though Jack and Nellie are small now, they're growing more observant every day. And I want them to know the real me - the woman who had enough energy to start her own baking business in addition to her stressful full time job; the woman who loved to read and go to the movies and restaurants and walk around Soho on a Friday evening; the woman who enjoyed conversations with friends and strangers and was full of life; the woman who wore yoga pants to yoga; and the woman who loved to feel pretty in addition to all those things.

Maybe the cliched lesson to learn from all this is that if I feel better about myself, I'll be a better mother. Or maybe I won't, and I'll just feel better. Isn't that enough of a reason? Either way, it's time to start putting myself first.

Or at least first and a half.

*Photo courtesy of parents.com

Time to sit back and unwind

There is so much I love about summer. On perfect sunny days like today, I like to flip through my memories of the season, like a rolodex of senses and sentiments. Salty Wells Beach air; lemony ice water from a thick plastic water bottle at field hockey camp; the freezing air inside the State House hitting my face, sweaty from the walk through the Boston Common; clam chowder; Starbuck's iced coffee; al fresco dining on smelly city street corners; heady flirtations; long walks through Manhattan at night; beach houses full of friends and fruity drinks (anyone remember the Pink Lieutenant?); hanging out in the Public Gardens at our wedding.

Summers are a bit different now that there are babies. Two years ago at this time, I was very newly pregnant - it was too early to take a test, but deep down I knew. And last year, when everyone was posting "Call Me Maybe" memes on Facebook, I had no idea what they were talking about because I had never heard the song! I was so overwhelmed with having two infants, I barely remember last summer at all (I do remember messing up my lower back while breastfeeding and spending a week at my parents' house recovering).

Jack and Nellie are still too little to make summer memories, but I'm planning to create some anyway and show them the photos later. I'm looking forward to 4th of July in Maine, trips to the carousel in Brooklyn Bridge Park, lots of ice cream at Ample Hills, Prospect Park picnics with wine juice boxes (for the grown ups), and even running through the sprinklers at the playground (which still skeeves me out, but I guess it's a NYC thing so we're going for it).

This weekend, I'm buying some J.Crew flip-flops and Sugar perfume from Fresh, getting a summer-y pedicure (maybe this color?), and drinking outside. What are you doing to celebrate the season? Maybe this list of summer hits from the past 50 years will inspire you. (I really want to listen to Lisa Loeb now.)

Also, remember when we all really liked Will Smith?


Happy summer everyone! Have a great weekend!

Twin Tuesdays: Convos with my 2-year-old

We were out of town for most of last week so I haven't had a ton of time to write (or, er, take a shower) since we got home on Sunday night. Luckily, I've discovered this hilarious and kind of creepy video series on  Youtube that will hopefully make up for this week's lack of insightful and witty prose (nothing makes up for the shower thing, though...I'm jumping in once I wrap up this post). Have you seen it? The videos are pee-your-pants funny - I can just picture the kinds of conversations we're going to have with J and N in the coming months.

1

You can see the other two episodes (Ep 3 might be my favorite) here. Enjoy!!

Girly sneakers

Nellie's feet are so tiny and dainty and she can wiggle her toes on demand, which just cracks me up. The problem is, it's hard to find sturdy shoes that fit - most toddler shoes start at size 4 or 5 and are way too roomy. But I'm planning on getting her a pair of pink Supergas this week. How cute are they?

I have some in grey, but I may pick up a pink pair to match. After all, I only have a few years to dress us alike, right?

Twin Tuesdays: Ten things you shouldn't say to twin parents

When I was pregnant, I was often proud and happy to talk about having twins with anyone who was willing. I'm a talker (you're not surprised, are you?), and I was so excited and anxious about what was happening that it was hard to keep my feelings to myself.

But as weeks turned into months turned into "they're here!" I noticed that I was getting a lot of the same questions and comments over and over again, and most of them were focused on the fact that I was carrying two babies. Even though the twin birth rate in this country is fairly high (about 33 in 1,000 births are twins), I got the feeling that I was looked at as a bit of a science experiment. I asked some other twin parents to weigh in, and it does seem that there's a trend. When they discover they're in the presence of twins, strangers have no problem asking even the most personal questions. It's mostly amusing, but also a little disarming and occasionally demoralizing.

So, while we know that most people are just sweetly curious, I can tell you there a few things a twin parent never wants to hear again. Here are my top 10:

1. Two babies?! Oh my goodness, how are you going to handle that? This is often accompanied by a look of combined horror and pity, "as if no one ever had two kids at once before" says twin dad George. I don't know, they're your kids, you handle it.

*Also, it's not like it's three: my friend Georgia said that she once met a woman a party who was pregnant with triplets and gave her that same AH! YOU ARE SO SCREWED! BETTER YOU THAN ME! look she'd always get from singleton moms. "I felt like such a hypocrite!" she told me. (Sorry parents of higher multiples :)

2. Wow, you have your hands full! The postpartum equivalent to the above comment. Yes. Yes I do, thanks for noticing.

3. Twins? Oh so did you do in vitro? (Also: How did that happen? Or: Are they natural?) Jack and Nellie were actually "natural" or "spontaneous" (seriously! that's what they're called!) so I only found this question mildly invasive, but still a little shocking. How did people think it was ok to just come out and ask that? Many twin parents do have trouble conceiving and "end up" with twins after in vitro treatments or hormone injections. Is this something that anyone really wants to discuss with a stranger? And also, what does it matter?

4. Are they identical? I understand: people hear "twins" and they think of those Doublemint ads from the days of yore. But I always feel like saying, "Stop and think for a second. I have a boy and a girl. Are they identical?" instead of just gritting my teeth and saying "no." I still get this question a lot, and even though Jack and Nellie look nothing alike, people will often say, "Oh wow, they really look like twins." Yes, wow, it's uncanny, isn't it? Grumble. Almost as bad a the follow up question...

5. How do you tell them apart? Well...they're not identical...they're a boy and a girl. Come on! They look so different that if I told you I was doing a nanny share for two families, it would be easier to believe! I kid you not, a waitress at our local gastropub was convinced she'd never, ever, be able to tell them apart, even if they were her kids. I just laughed and said "you could always just check inside their diapers."

6. A boy and a girl, you're done! Right, except if I want a third. Does that make make me weird if I want a another baby? Because the look on your face says it does. I kind of love to see twin parents with a third little one. Way to buck the system, bizarre little family with twins that don't even look alike.

7. Oh you're going to have a c-section. For sure. For sure, I did have a c-section. Many twin moms do. But many don't: my friend Jen birthed her girls the old fashioned way. And talk about being seen as a science experiment: when Jen took her babies to the doctor for their 24 hour visit, the head of pediatrics walked in to the exam room unexpectedly and "just HAD to meet the double vaginal mom." Either way, it's none of your business how those two babies get out of our bodies. Oh, and if I had a dime for every time I heard the word vaginal in my third trimester...

8. You want to breastfeed? How's that going to work? Well...two breasts, two babies. (Although I never did get the hang of tandem feeding.) Breastfeeding twins seems slightly more difficult that breast feeding one baby but just like our singleton counterparts, some twins moms breastfeed and pump exclusively, some do a combination of breastmilk and formula, and some switch to formula almost immediately. And none of us need a stranger's advice or opinion about it.

9. Are you nervous you'll deliver really early? Yes, I am, but you're sort of the last person with whom I want to discuss this fear. The myth is that if you're having twins, they'll most likely be born early and really small. Mine were born by scheduled c-section at 38 weeks (full gestation for twins) and were both over 7 and a half pounds. You know what they say about people who assume?

10. Do they speak their own twin language? Now that Jack and Nellie are 15 months, I'm getting this question regularly. I've done a little bit of research, and it seems rare that twins develop their own language, especially with a set of talkative parents. I suppose only time will tell if they once again fail at being stereotypical twins, but so far it seems as though they're only typical toddlers. Sorry weird stranger with too much twin knowledge.

Weekend

This weekend we spent a lot of time hanging out as a little family. We put laundry and cleaning aside in favor of long naps and lots of play time.

On Saturday afternoon, we went to our friend Lucas's awesome first birthday party. We loved that it was literally across the street from our apartment building. Stay tuned for a full post on this adorable celebration.

Sunday was gorgeous and we spent all morning outside in Brooklyn Bridge Park, one of my favorite places. Jack and Nellie had a great time running up and down the waterfront and climbing up the big, shallow concrete steps that lead to the huge carousel (we'd planned to take them for a ride, but alas, they fell asleep).

We met up with our friends Mike and Emily for a quick lunch at Smorgasburg, a weekly outdoor food market featuring local vendors and restaurants. We munched on schnitzel sandwiches and all shared a pie shake, an intense and delicious concoction created by the ladies of Butter and Scotch. There were a few to choose from but the Fat Drunk Arnold Palmer (sweet tea ice cream and shaker lemon pie omg) was rich and refreshing at the same time.

On this rainy Monday, I'm counting the hours and minutes until Saturday...

Twin Tuesdays: Best baby award

Evan and I try not to play the baby milestone comparison game. Evan's better at it than I am, but I feel like most days I hold my own. I don't intentionally brag to other toddler parents about what Nellie and Jack are doing (sorry relatives, friends without kids, friends with older kids...) and I try to brush it off and move on when other parents brag to me. It's exciting, I get it. Both J and N hit some milestones "early," and I was thrilled, even though deep down I knew it meant nothing. My mom once pointed out that most of these developmental milestones happen when, biologically, the baby is ready. "Kind of like getting your first period," she said. "Some girls get it early, some get it late, but it doesn't really mean much." Right. Then why are we parents are all acting like 11 year old boys, ogling at the first girl in class to wear a bra?

When J and N started pulling up and cruising earlier than average, I was convinced they were going to be early walkers, sort of like the Emmy of baby awards (talking is the Academy Award). But it didn't happen that way. I watched other babies start walking with confidence, and mine would take a few steps here and there and decide to crawl. I'm mortified to admit that it was mortifying for me. I felt guilty and jealous, and then guilty again for having these insane feelings. Now they're 15 months and walking like they've always known how, but they really didn't start to favor walking over crawling till about a month ago. There were many moments where I felt like Sam in Sixteen Candles, in a state of perpetual embarrassment. And it was all because of that insipid comparison game: I knew there was nothing wrong with the twins, they both knew how to walk, they were just going at their own pace. I wasn't concerned about them, I was mad because someone else's kid won the award for that milestone; in this particular instance, my kids were not the best. Ouch.

Perhaps the most difficult part of the comparison game is forcing yourself not to pit your kids against each other by comparing their every move. Having twins makes this especially challenging, and I work hard to just let it go. Jack and Nellie are very different, both in temperament and the way they learn and process new things. This was clear to us very early on. At first, when one hit a milestone, I would practically hold my breath till the other got there. But now I hardly ever compare the two. They've been eerily on the same schedule, but I guess it's actually not that eerie:  they're pretty much on an average developmental schedule, hitting milestones at about the same time all other toddlers do. Oh yeah, and they're happy and healthy. Doesn't that count for something?

So the next time someone tells you that their child is very advanced (true story, ah tales from a Brooklyn playground), resist the urge to ram into them with your stroller. And when you hear "oh, Einstein didn't talk until he was four" don't respond with "but Milo down the street was saying his ABCs at eight months!!!" because it doesn't really matter. As my husband says, no one actually gets an award for winning at being a baby.