Warning: This blog was written under duress. We here at Rolling For Trips are not into complaining, and we have nothing but respect for all parents.
To the best of my recollection, I have never used a curse word here at Rolling For Trips. I made the decision very early on not to use any foul language. I arrived at this decision for several reasons, and the number one reason was this was to be a family oriented affair. After all, we here at the Krug Ranch were starting a family. What better time to change one's ways?
If you know me, you know that I cuss like a sailor. I cuss all the time. I enjoy it. I believe that as an artist, cursing may be my true medium. I can string together cuss words in a fashion that will make a drill sergeant blush. I don't know where I picked this up, but I did, and I like it.
Having said this, I believe that it is a testament to my dedication to Rolling For Trips that I have abstained from using any language that I or hopefully anyone else for that matter, would deem foul.
I have come up with a few choice phrases to describe what the last 48 hours have been like. Maybe it's 72 hours, I'm not sure. The days and nights run together like some cruel joke that you never get to hear the punch line to. Here are a few safe phrases that I have come up with to express myself and how I feel on Sunday Morning at 12:44 A.M.
Son of a Sea Biscuit.
Sweet Mary and Joseph.
Gosh Dang it Dag Nab It.
Oh My Heavens.
Oh My Word.
Heavens to Betsy.
Fiddle Dee Dee.
Rama Lama Ding Dong.
Great Odin's Raven.
There is nothing on this earth that can prepare you for triplets in your home. We had triplets in the NICU and I have had plenty to say about the ups and downs of that. Triplets in your house is another thing entirely.
First of all, to everyone out there that has or has had one baby in their house at a time. I have this message for you.
Shut up. Shut up now. You are a tourist. It's Baby Lite. I'm sure one baby comes with challenges. Whatever. I don't want to hear about them.
To those people with Twins. Pretty much shut up there also. If you have a Mom and a Dad, each one can hold and take care of one baby. If you don't have two parents in your house, then I feel sorry for you. Sort of.
Three babies is not baby times three. It's baby cubed or baby times infinity. I'm not sure, but the energy they create seems to feed on itself creating a swirling vortex of baby despair that crushes down upon you.
All this, and we have good babies. They are on a schedule. They get fed every three hours. They get fed at 1:30, 4:30, 7:30, 10:30, and then you start over again. AM and PM don't matter. It just goes and goes.
Let me give you a rundown of how the 10:30 PM feeding just went.
My beautiful Wife Carrie has worn herself to a frazzle taking care of, and worrying about these kids. I had to literally make her go to bed at 9:30. This is after she made up all the bottles and set out all the clothes, bibs, blankets, and other things for me to use. She really was trying to make my life easier. I just wanted her to go to sleep. I did the 10:30 feeding last night pretty much without incident.
Anyhow, here is how it went down.
9:30 Carrie goes to Bed. Boys are in living room in their bouncy seats. Whomever invented the bouncy seat deserves a Congressional Medal of Honor. Anyhow, the boys are hanging out and I was playing them some "Dead Flowers" by the Rolling Stones on my acoustic guitar. They were digging it. So, Carrie goes to bed.
9:33 I figure I will stop playing the guitar so Carrie can sleep.
9:35 Cade starts screaming. I put his pacifier in his mouth and he is immediately cool.
Cash is fussing a little, but no big deal. Zane, for some strange reason is asleep and causing no problems at all. This is very unlike him.
9:48 Cade's pacifier keeps falling out of his mouth. He can't hold it in by himself, so I am constantly putting it back in his mouth and trying to calm him. I do this about four hundred times.
10:24 Okay, it's almost feeding time. Since Cash is now wide awake I decide to feed him first. Cade has been pretty quiet for the past ten minutes. I think he is asleep.
At this point I lose total track of time. I know that we are in the 10:30 feeding and I'm in Austin, Texas. Other than that I don't know much of anything. I put Cash's bottle in the warm water to heat it up and head into change his diaper. Because this is me, it's extremely dirty and I almost throw up. At this point Cade starts screaming at the top of his lungs. I finish putting Cash's pajamas on and carry him out to start feeding him. Cade is screaming really loud, so I try the pacifier thing with one hand while I feed Cash with the other. You gotta watch Cash close because he will stop breathing on you during feeds. He is on a heart rate monitor, and that thing is loud if it goes off. I'm feeding Cash, trying to quiet Cade and Cade will not cooperate. Finally, Cash's heart rate monitor starts going off. I let Cade scream while making sure Cash is cool. He is. I give him a break and put him in his bouncy seat. I grab Cade and put him in his crib and shut the door. Maybe he will calm down. I grab the baby monitor so I can hear him. I look down the baby monitor shows me the temperature in the baby room. It's 81. How is this possible? The baby monitor starts sounding some temperature alarm every 30 seconds. I have to keep it on to hear Cade, but the temperature alarm is driving me out of my mind. I continue to try and feed Cash. I eye Zane. He is a total wild card. He could start going crazy at any moment, and he is more fussy than the other two. The temperature in the baby room goes up another degree 82. What's going on? I feed Cash some more and try to burp him. He burps, so I sit him in his bouncy seat again. Something is up with Cade. He is usually cool. I rush in the baby room and think I'll change him and get him ready to feed. Wow. Big surprise. Really dirty diaper. No wonder he was mad. I change him and dress him in his pajamas. I put Cade on his boppy pillow or whatever you call it and I'm feeding him with one hand and giving Cash the rest of the food with the other hand. Cash finishes and I put him over my leg and pat his back trying to get him to burp again. I look at Zane. I'm astounded that he isn't yelling. I put Cash down and try to finish Cade. I pick him up and put him over my left shoulder. I head into the kitchen to warm up Zane's bottle. I drop the bottle in the warm water and head over to grab him. I take Cade and Zane into the baby room. Cade goes into his crib where he is chilling. I change Zane. No dirty diaper. Just wet. Cool. I take off his diaper. He pees high into the air. I throw the new diaper on top of his business and wait it out. I look at the baby monitor. Why is it saying it is so hot in the room? Oh, I get it. I'm an idiot. The baby monitor is right under the Red Sox lamp that I have on. It's literally heating up the baby monitor and making it think the room is hot. I get Zane dressed and put him in his crib for a second. I wrap Cash in his cool swaddling blanket and lay him down. He is so cool and calm that he is asleep in seconds. I do the same to Cade and he calms down. They love these swaddling blanket things. They are called sleep sacks or something. They are awesome and the boys love them. I go and grab Zane's bottle. It has a hole in it and has leaked everywhere. I grab a new bottle and check the fridge for formula, and remember that Carrie used the last of the bottle. I find a new one and crack the seal, refill the bottle, and then start to warm it. Zane is being cool He must sense that his old man is one step away from totally losing it. I feed Zane, burp him, wrap him in his sleep thing, and put him down to sleep. All the babies go to sleep. I grab Carrie's phone out of our bedroom so her alarm can't go off. I want that woman to sleep. I look at the clock 12:21.
It's now 1:25 and I have to go start the 1:30 feeding.
We will have cool videos and pictures later.
I just thought I would share.
I needed to vent.
As soon as I lay them down, I think about how much I love them and I can't imagine our lives without them.
Wish me better luck on this next feeding.