So, It’s Been A While

I think it’s fair to say that my attempt at October’s NaBloPoMo officially went in the pooper. I’m starting to believe that putting that darn button up in the first place is like the blog equivalent of shooting myself in the foot. Not that I won’t give it another shot next month… I’m many things, but a quitter is not one of them. I will get this right, dang it. One of these months, I’m going to pull off blogging every day.

Mark my words. In orange. Because it’s so much more festive than yellow.


I’m happy to report that both Claire and Jane were discharged from the hospital a good while ago. They are exactly three weeks old today and doing marvelous. I don’t know what I expected Life With Newborn Twins to be like, but it wasn’t this. Both of them have a pretty solid sleeping pattern and I’m not nearly as rundown as I thought I would be… Knock on wood.

Truthfully, the only thing I had to ‘deal’ with, so to speak, was random people cooing over them… Right before they ask me if I’m sure they are twins.

No, they had a two for one sale at the hospital. Come on, people.

They look nothing alike, I’ll give ‘em that. Claire looks exactly like I did as a wee little bébé – chubby and blond. Jane is the spitting image of Sam, and – according to my mother-in-law – ‘the most Native looking baby their family has seen since Sam was born’.

I’ve seen the pictures. The woman is not lying.

Needless to say, we’re able to tell them apart without much difficulty.

Nevertheless, yes, I am sure they are twins. I counted them while they came out of my whoohoo. I may have been a tad bit stoned at the time because of the epidural, but I’m sure this didn’t affect my ability to differentiate between one and two.

It was definitely two.

Which makes a grand total of four children currently residing under this roof. It can get a little crazy – and messy. I don’t think there has been a night where I didn’t hear Sam grumbling ‘effing Lego blocks’ while getting up at night to feed the girls… But it’s all great fun. Because schadenfreude. And also, because we’re all happy and healthy.

And just a wee bit tired.

Now tell me, what did I miss?


‘Mommy,’ she chirps in that high-pitched toddler voice. ‘Mommy, I have a question.’

As is Sadie’s way. This girl always has questions. She even raised her hand in church a few weeks back, to ask what a certain word meant. It’s not the question that is new in this scenario. Her calling me mommy, however, is. My husband is not daddy, my husband is Sam. Only she pronounces it as Sham, much to the amusement of the rest of my family. And before today, before this moment, I was Rhye. Pronounced Why. And now I’m mommy.

It’s a difficult moment, for reasons I can’t pinpoint. Standing there with a soapy plate in my hand, I wonder if I should correct her… But then I ask myself why I should. I may not be her birth mother, but I am the one who will feed her, clothe her, make sure she does her homework and – when the time is there – question the guys she dates profusely. I will make sure she has a roof over her head until she’s ready to venture into the world. I will be the one who will help her with her college application. I will be there.

My mother always said that ‘mom’ is a title, one that you have to earn. You can be someone’s mother without being their mom. And I always agreed with her. Yet, I don’t want to take this title away from the woman who neglected her in more ways than one. There is no doubt that she has made mistakes, and that the mistakes she has made were harmful to her children. But it feels wrong to ‘invalidate’ her.

Because Sadie isn’t her only child we now have custody of. There’s Cole, too. Big brother Cole, who is 6 years old and thinks the world of his mother – and yet doesn’t. At the moment everything is very confusing to him, and I don’t want to pile onto that by suddenly becoming their ‘new mommy’.

It’s the little things that make caring for children that are ‘not yours’ very difficult at times. I’m not yet aware of the appropriate names, terms and language. I struggle with how much I should tell them, and what to shield them from. Sometimes I have to do some soul searching myself before I even come up with a decent answer to their sporadic questions.

But I’m learning. Rome wasn’t built in a day, as they say, and nobody can expect me to know exactly what to do in every scenario that might pop up. All I know for sure is that I love these kids, love them to pieces with the fire of a thousand suns, and I trust that we’ll work through all of it one step at a time.

This, and many other things, is what this blog will be about.