Can I Be the Dad?

I really hope that the babies aren't silently judging me from their cribs for what a crummy mother I am. They're not very old yet, and their brains have a long way to go. They don't even have object permanence at this point, so it's not like they're tiny geniuses or anything -- they're probably only a step or two above our current president in terms of cognitive abilities -- yet they still have the ability to outsmart me on a daily basis. Nora, for instance, is notorious for peeing as soon as the diaper comes off. She does this at least once a day. She loves to let loose when the air hits her. Given the predictability of this, you'd think I'd be prepared. Jake does a pretty good job of opening her diaper, faking her out, and then quickly putting the diaper back over her when she starts to pee. Whereas I sort of flail about, surprised every time, saying "oh no! oh no!" as she soaks her clothes, my hand, the changing pad, and so forth.

Nora and Milo are definitely the most vocal babies I've ever known at this age, and they're the most talkative sleepers I've ever encountered. They both like to grunt a lot. It's hard to tell sleep grunting from I'm-about-to-get-really-upset-and-wake-up-and-cry grunting. As far as I can tell, they sound exactly alike. So this means that when they're in our room at night, grunting away, I wake up approximately every millisecond to look at them to see whether they're waking up. Sometimes I'll hear a cry, or a big series of grunts and groans, and look to see who is awake, and mysteriously they are both sound asleep as soon as I look at them. Silent. Motionless. Still. But then when I lie back down, the grunting immediately starts up again. How do they do this?

Jake, as the dad, is better at being relaxed and non-paranoid about the babies. He doesn't wake up very much when they grunt and groan in their sleep. He doesn't seem to worry too much about the crazy things I worry about, like: what if I'm cussing too much in front of the babies? I try to control it, but when the poop hits the wall, literally, it's hard not to say "fuck". Or, what if the cat gets into the nursery when we're not looking, decides to cuddle up with the babies in their crib, and then smothers one of them? Or, what if the babies get flat heads? Or, what if I'm not talking to them enough, and therefore they'll have delayed language development? I'm pretty sure I'm the only one worrying about these things.

There are many other reasons I'd rather be the dad, which merit a lot of posts beyond this one. But here is one: a lot of people have told me how lucky I am that Jake can take time off work and do work from home in order to "help out" with the babies. I really don't like the phrase "help out". When I am taking care of the babies, nobody calls it "helping". I'm just doing the job of being a parent. Who is Jake helping, me? So that makes me the primary baby-care provider, and Jake is the helper? Meanwhile, nobody has told Jake that he is lucky that I am able to take time off work and do work from home. That part's expected. Anyway, I'm probably better suited to the dad role than the mom role. That way I'd get praised for taking some time off instead of judged for not quitting my career entirely.

On the other hand, I do get some advantages that Jake doesn't. People are cutting me a lot of slack because I just had twins, so folks are pretty understanding so far about my limited time options for making it to campus. Jake's colleagues, on the other hand, don't really cut him any slack for being the parent of newborn twins. They still expect him to do things that are kind of unnecessary and not always feasible given that we have to both devote a lot of time to keeping these babies alive and happy. One other advantage is that, as the person whose boobs are (mostly) feeding the babies, I get to eat more and have a milkshake every day with whole milk. On really exciting days, I have a malt.

Mostly, though, dads are allowed and even expected to be clueless. Moms are supposed to know stuff. I don't know jack squat. I should probably be the dad and not the mom.

Above, Caspian with Nora and Sam watching over Milo being bathed. The other day Jake needed to warm a bottle for Milo while I was feeding Nora, so he had to set Milo down in the moses basket for a minute. Milo got really mad and started crying hard, and Sam woke up from her nap and trotted over to the moses basket, and sat right next to it watching Milo until Jake came back. I think she's very maternal.