I had TheMonk and Swee’Pea by myself today. Everything was going well and we were busy playing in our playroom (formerly known as the “formal living room”). The playroom has two baby gates. One at the base of the stairs and the other, which happens to be right next to the stairs, to the entrance to the kitchen. After an hour of playing, singing, mediating, consoling, and pretending to be asleep (which TheMonk thought was hilarious), I glanced at the clock to see that it was time for a nap (Yay, nap time!). For some reason I can no longer remember, I opened the gate to the kitchen to put something away before I opened the gate to the stairs. Normally this would not be a problem because they seek out danger the way Paris Hilton seeks out publicity. Normally, they head right for the stairs the second I even hint I’m going to open the baby gate at the base of said stairs.

Not today. Instead, they both rush the small opening to the kitchen and I soon realize I’m outnumbered. I dart after TheMonk who is getting much quicker these days. He shrieks and crawls away from me as fast as he can. While I reach for him, I notice Swee’Pea has darted around the other side of the island in our kitchen. I quickly put TheMonk down in the playroom and dart over to scoop up Swee’Pea. I’m certain that TheMonk will have seen his clear path up the stairs and started climbing so I am quick. He’s quicker however and, unfortunately, he’s not interested in climbing the stairs.

Once again, he darts out into the kitchen. This time, I put Swee’Pea on my left hip and reach down and scoop him up, placing him on my right hip. In my mind I picture myself looking like a dueling cowboy on some old western television show except instead of six-shooters on my hips, I have quick-scooters dangling precariously on my hips who are laughing hysterically at the havoc they have wrought.

I carry them into the middle of the playroom, set them down, and then race them to the baby gate leading to the kitchen. I snap it shut and quickly turn to them with a look of victory on my face. “Ha! I win!” I shout.

I point to the stairs and tell them we’re going upstairs to take a nap. Finally, with little other options for danger, they opt for the stairs. They race each other up but the one in the lead always stops to see where the other one is, so the race is close. I declare it a tie at the top of the stairs as I change their diapers and put them to bed.

I head downstairs and realize how tired I am. The babies must be tired too as there is no sound eminating from the baby monitor. I lay down for a few moments, knowing I’ll need to save my strength for round two in about an hour and a half.

It seems like five minutes.

I lie awake. It’s late at night – or early morning. I’m not sure so I turn to look at the clock. It’s 5:15 a.m. The stillness of the early morning is incredible. I hear Andrea sleeping soundly next to me and I think back to the night before. Did I have to get up to comfort a baby? Yes, once. It was TheMonk this time and it was quick and easy. A pat on his little body was all he needed to go back to sleep. That was about midnight. Since then, I’ve had uninterrupted sleep. For weeks, Swee’Pea has been waking up between 4:30 a.m. and 5:00 a.m. and will not go back to sleep in her crib. I’ve had to hold her in my arms out in the loft to get her back to sleep. So, now I wait for Swee’Pea’s familiar cry to go get her – before she wakes up TheMonk.

It’s now 5:30 a.m. I continue to wait. A fleeting thought crosses my mind. “Maybe she’s dead.” I think. I nervously laugh off that thought and tell myself that everything’s fine. I should enjoy this extra time to sleep in. I try to drift off to sleep but my brain keeps waiting for the cry. It’s gotta happen anytime now.

5:45 a.m. Now, I’m getting nervous. I haven’t heard a peep over the baby monitor. What if both are dead? What if, I go in the room and both are dead. How could I live with myself knowing that I was lying in bed letting my children die in the room down the hall? STOP! Get these thoughts out of your mind. They’re fine. Really. Go back to sleep for God’s sake! Besides, what’s the chance that both are dead? Very slim. Go back to sleep.

Andrea has now gotten up to shower. I continue to lie there in the room as light starts to creep in from outside. The covers are nice and cozy. I don’t want to get up.

But what if the babies are dead?

THEY’RE NOT DEAD YOU MORON – THEY’RE SLEEPING!!! LIKE YOU SHOULD BE DOING!!!!

6:00 a.m. I can’t stand it any more. Even though I still have 10 minutes before I have to get them up, I get out of bed and head towards the room. Nutmeg the cat, sensing my sense of purpose (or maybe she just wanted a treat), follows along. I quietly open the door. TheMonk’s head pops up to look at me. His binky is still in his mouth. He smiles and I go to get him. As I do, I hear Swee’Pea start to stir.

As I head out the door, with a very-much-alive TheMonk in my arms. I glance down and make eye contact with Nutmeg. I smile at her and say, “I knew they were alive all along.”

Nutmeg turns and heads down the hall with her tail in the air. “Sure you did.” she seems to be saying.

Your cry starts as a whimper. I can hear it over the baby monitor and I can sense you’re uncomfortable. I wait, however, before coming to get you. I want to see if you’ll put yourself back to sleep. The last few nights haven’t been easy for you, Swee’ Pea. You’ve been teething and nothing but a good dose of Tylenol will ease the pain. To add to your misery, it now seems you have yet another cold. You had a fever today combined with a wet cough. We have given you a dose of Tylenol already today to combat your fever but you’re still clearly uncomfortable. You are usually such a happy little girl. I adore your kicks, squeals and smiles whenever you see me. That smile lights up a room – not to mention my heart. Tonight, however, you were not your usual self and, because of that, I’m worried about you. Tomorrow we will take you to the doctor but tonight it’s just you and me.

Your whimpers are now clearly a cry and I head to your room to comfort you. When I arrive I glance at your brother who is still sound asleep. I pick up your binky and try to give it to you. you’re not in a mood for a binky tonight and you continue to fuss so I scoop you up and cradle you in my arms. You’re getting to be such a big girl now at 8 months. It seems just a short while ago I could hold you with one hand but now both are needed to support your growing body. I embrace your little body with both arms and I can feel the heat radiate from within. I kiss your hot cheek as your little fingers grab the loose folds of my t-shirt. I hold you close, rocking you in the dark of the night with only the sounds of your brother breathing and the whirr of the humidifier disturbing the peace that surrounds us. You rest your little head on my chest and your exhausted body goes limp. I continue to rock you and I brush my lips against the top of your head. I think about my little girl feeling so worn out and I am saddened that I cannot do more for you. I want to make your pain go away. I want to make it all better because that’s what daddies are supposed to do. “I love you, Swee’ Pea” I whisper as you fall into a deeper sleep in my arms. I can feel your chest rise and fall and your whimpers become faint and infrequent. Sensing it’s time to put you back to bed, I gently place you back into your crib and watch over you as you fall into an even deeper sleep. Your face is angelic – lit up by the street light outside your window. I say a silent prayer for you and I reach down and kiss your warm forehead one more time.

Sweet dreams my little one. Tomorrow will be a better day.

Daddy will make sure of it.

This post was also published on the The Blogfathers.

Once again, the sound of a baby crying blares out over the baby monitor in the early morning hours. In a now regular routine, I move quickly to the babies room to quiet TheMonk before he wakes up Swee’Pea. I open the door and quietly and swiftly move to TheMonk’s crib where I pick him up in one quick scoop. I bring him to my chest to comfort and soothe his crying. But the crying continues.

It is only then that I realize the crying is not coming from TheMonk but rather from the crib across the room. Oops. I put the now awake Monk back into his crib and go and comfort Swee’Pea who only needs a quick hug and her binky before it’s back to dreamland.

TheMonk on the other hand…

The baby industry is a billion dollar industry. Therefore, it only makes sense that Hollywood wants to get into the action. Because Hollywood has a hard time coming up with original ideas, they have taken some popular movies and twisted them to meet the baby market. I have a very reliable source who is a Hollywood Insider that shared with me some ideas that Hollywood is working on for the near future. The movies titles are in bold followed by a short synopsis. Since I am always concerned about the welfare of my readers, I hope this will help you when it comes time to deciding what movies you will spend your limited resources on.

Movie Title: What Babies Want
A know-it-all daddy gets electrocuted when the baby monitor falls into the bathtub. He suddenly hears what Babies want. Contrary to popular opinion babies just don’t think about food and wet diapers. Hilarity ensues when it turns out that babies really do poop at the most incovenience times on purpose and like peeing dogs, they spit up on areas to mark their territory.

Movie Title: Million Dollar Baby
A baby enters the life of an aging boxing trainer. Not having any perky female friends to throw him a baby shower, he soon finds that the million dollars he had put aside for retirement will now have to be spent on formula, bottle warmers, and baby gyms.

Movie Title: 50 First Diapers
A new Daddy with no short term memory happily changes each diaper of his baby to the delight of his wife. Every time he opens up the diaper he is disgusted, mortified and amazed at the amount of poop a being that small can create.

Movie Title: 30 going on 13
A new father quickly regresses to the maturation of a 13 year old where fart jokes and the word “poop” never cease to create a snicker or two from the father.

Movie Title: Catch Me If You Can
Parents of twins discover the horror of their twins learning to walk at the same time. Things are further complicated when the twins figure out it’s a lot more fun when they run in different directions.

Movie Title: How to Lose your Sanity in 10 Days
A new father naively accepts a bet that he will remain sane while caring for newborn twins. The movie ends on the 8th day when the father is shown huddled in the corner, rolled up in the fetal position and muttering to himself “they just won’t stop crying, they just won’t stop crying, they just won’t stop…”

Movie Title: My Big Fat Geek Daddy
A daddy blogger finds himself ballooning far beyond the acceptable “sympathy weight” that was gained during his wife’s pregnancy. Daddy is calmed by his blogging buddies who insist he isn’t alone. The movie ends with the Daddy finally losing the weight and, of course, blogging witty entries along the way.

Movie Title: Close Encounters of the Worst Kind
A daddy is convinced he has an alien baby after witnessing the out-of-this-world toxic waste that is eminating from his baby’s butt.

Movie Title: E.B.: The Extra Baby
A couple who were only expecting one baby must suddenly cope with the demands of an extra baby. The movie takes place entirely in one setting (The house) because the couple cannot afford to go anywhere else.

TheMonk and Bri,

I can’t believe it’s already been 3 months since your birth. That means we only have 213 more months until you go off to college.

You’re growing up so fast. It seems like you learn a new trick every day. Jonathan, I watched you in your crib yesterday spend at least five minutes trying to get your thumb into your mouth. You had a plan that was pretty good in concept. Execution, however, wasn’t so hot. First, you extended your fist as far away from your face as possible. Then, you would eject your thumb away from your fist, almost like an artist sizing up his painting from across the room. Next, you would slowly bring the thumb/fist toward your face. Almost inevitably you would bring the fist right at your eye that was looking at the fist. Being off by only a couple of inches, you would then try to drag your thumb across the bridge of your nose, over the top lip and into the awaiting mouth. The only problem you had was by the time your fist got to the mouth, the thumb had retracted back into your fist. “Hmmm” I could almost see you thinking, “Let’s try this again.” And you would. Never quite got it though, I’m afraid.

Now, you’re sitting next to me as I type this and you’re at it again. Being the great dad that I am, I first showed you how I suck my thumb (Please note that I stopped sucking my thumb years ago. I mean, who knew how mean college classmates could be about such a thing). This seemed to provide some much needed encouragement, however, because you proceeded to try again in earnest. This time, I helped keep your thumb out and you finally got it into your mouth. Another problem has arisen, however. Judging by the wrinkled nose and licking of the lips, it seems you don’t care for the taste of your thumb. Well, we can’t say we didn’t try. Now, this won’t rank up there with me teaching you how to throw a baseball, blast out of the starting blocks, telling Mommy you love her more, but it’s a start.

Swee’Pea, your new trick is that you like to talk. All… of… the… time. Every morning when I get you out of bed for your early feeding you look at me like I’m the bestest thing in the whole world (and I’m just going to keep believing it’s so). Your smile is so huge and you begin to make excited noises that are so loud I have to hurry you out of the room to change you so you won’t wake your brother. When I lie you down to change your diaper prior to feeding, you get so excited that you kick and thrash your legs around. While it’s cute as hell, it does make it a little harder to change your diaper. Luckily, there’s been no accidents as of yet. After feeding, I put you back down for your morning nap (you’re like your mom, you definitely like to sleep in. In fact, if it was socially acceptable for your mother to wear diapers to bed, she might not ever get up). It is so fun to hear you talk yourself to sleep over the baby monitor as I feed your brother. What you’re saying, I have no clue, but it sounds fascinating. You’ll have to explain it to me some day.

Needless to say, the last 3 months have been an incredible time in our family. I must admit it’s pretty exhausting to juggle the both of you (not literally, we haven’t tried juggling you since you hit the 10 pound mark. Daddy’s back isn’t what it used to be). But at the end of the evening, after your mom and I have bathed, fed, changed and finally put you to bed we close the door to your room and we give each other a kiss and a high five (Another day without killing the kids or each other – All Right!). It is then one of us will look at the other and say, “Can you believe how lucky we are?”

No, I cannot believe it. But there it is. You are living proof at how blessed and fortunate we are. I dreamed of having you for so long, but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine it would be as good as this.

Happy Three Months Little Ones. I love you.

• Sleep deprivation is a really effective means of torture
• Velcro on diapers rank with one of the greatest innovations ever
• Bottle warmers are a complete waste of time
• The quickest way to tell if it’s time for a diaper change is to smell the babies’ backside
• My wife is a much deeper sleeper than I thought she was
• Babies really don’t like it when you suction out their nose
• Babies won’t accept $20, $50 or even $100 to just… stop… crying
• Dinner time is whenever we find time to shove something down our throats
• Anything that can be heated in the microwave is my new favorite food
• When you “burp” a baby, the gas doesn’t always come out of the mouth
• 1 out of every 10 people who learn I have boy/girl twins ask if they’re identical
• There isn’t a Human Resources person out there that really understands the Family Medical Leave Act.
• More women smile at you when you have a baby strapped to your chest.
• If you wipe down a baby with a damp washcloth and then slather scented baby lotion on, everyone will think your baby just had a bath.
• Don’t say anything you don’t want the neighborhood to know in front of the baby monitor.
• Sometimes it takes having twins to finally meet your neighbors
• I still have no desire to taste the breast milk
• Going to the bathroom requires more advanced planning than it used to
• Our parents call a lot more now that we have given them grandchildren
• Eventually, even the cat will adjust to having twins

Okay fellow parents, what have you learned

We set up our baby monitor yesterday and finally ventured downstairs for the first time in a week. We turned the monitor on downstairs and went about preparing and eating dinner while listening for sounds on the baby monitor. The first noise heard on our monitor Not cries, not coos, not even whimpers. No, we heard the distinct sounds of babies passing gas. So, at least we knew we would need to change them after dinner.

We also put a receiver in our loft area which is just down the hall from our master bedroom where we currently are holed up with the babies. Andrea and I were changing the babies and getting them ready to feed when we heard the distinct sound of a baby crying. We looked at the babies in our arms and then at each other’s puzzled faces only to realize that the sounds we were hearing were not coming from our babies but from the baby monitor down the hall. I headed down the hall to the receiver and I could distinctly hear a woman singing to her baby as she fed him/her. It was a bit eerie to be listening in on an unknown neighbor so I quickly changed the channel.

Andrea and I will just have to remember not to discuss state secrets when holding the babies from now on.