I swear, this is like rock climbing.

You never get a solid toe-hold or a solid foot-hold. You get a toe-hold that will hold you for just long enough to get you to the next finger-hold, which you can hang on to for a moment while you jam your foot into that crack, which will start sliding out as your hand reaches for that little jutting bit of rock that will let you move your foot up to that tiny ledge...

You can't rest. Everything is in flux. And if you think that everything is finally calm and OK, it's because you forgot to do something.

When do we get ... small?

Years ago, I heard an episode of This American Life, in which they were talking about the world through childrens' eyes. One of the stories I remember was that of an older woman sitting next to a young girl on an airplane. It was obviously the girl's first trip on an airplane. The older woman was talking her through what was happening and trying to ease her nervousness. The little girl did well, and the plane took off and she was all filled with wide-eyed wonder. After several minutes, though, she looked at her seatmate with puzzlement and asked, "When do we get small?"

It's a cute story. But I've been thinking about it a lot lately ... because I don't feel like a *grownup* yet. Sure, I've got a mortgage and a 401(k) and two new sons and a job and a car and utility bills... but I still don't feel like a real... grownup. I still sing along to the radio in the car (sometimes well, usually very poorly). I've never worn a suit to work. I often work from home; "changing into work clothes" means "putting on some pants, and maybe slippers if it's cold".

It's an arbitrary thing, really. I guess I am going to be what a grownup is for my kids.

Maybe I should buy a pair of wingtips. Dad had wingtips.

Everything is scary and wonderful.

I'm terrified that I'm going to do something wrong. I have two boys relying on me for EVERYTHING. I feel like if I hold them wrong, if I do something wrong in the slightest, it could wreck their lives. I know the odds aren't great of that happening, but it's still so scary.

Having said that, I look forward to holding them every day.

Hangin'; with the boys.

Sitting in the hospital while mom pumps. Boys are sleeping quietly. "a" just had lunch. It's almost 2 weeks in, and the medical equipment is starting to disappear... Both physically and metaphorically. The IVs are out and the oxygen canulae (canulas?) are going soon. At the same time.... I'm less aware of all the stuff ... And more aware of just spending time with my amazing kids.

Kangaroo Love

Kangaroo Time is wonderful. That's all for now.

...OK, one more thing. So in the process of cleaning up the moldy grossness that was my basement, I decided to go full-on biohazard. I took off my shirt before I went into the basement, and I was wearing jeans that I"d been planning on chucking anyway (they're old and huge and have holes in them). Plus a pair of old running shoes that the cats had peed on[not recently, but there was a faint funk] (another trashcan candidate), a mask, respirator, and gloves, and I was ready to go. So as I hauled nasty bags of crap to the curb, I realized:

I'm shirtless and wearing old jeans, elbow-length rubber gloves, a respirator, and goggles. Holy crap, my neighbors are going to think I'm cooking meth.

well, crap

First the good: Boys are great and are wearing clothes now (they'd been in just diapers before). Somehow, this is a milestone I hadn't thought about, but is very very comforting. Also, they could be home before thanksgiving. Also GREAT news.

Now the tough part: Discovered a leak in my house. First suspect was an overwatered plant. Next suspect was a rotten window. Finally found the culprit: A @#$!# leaky pipe. And not a "serious issue, call a plumber" kinda thing, but a goddamn U bend pipe under the kitchen sink. There's light at the end of the tunnel now, but today's been a really scary day.

Low point: "Worst case is gutting the entire inside, spraying what's left with special mold killer, putting in all new paper-free sheet rock and insulation, paint, and treating the slab and new flooring". Turns out that's for severely flood-damaged homes. I think all I need to worry about is under $500 in parts and labor, then I can go on with my life.

It's been a scary day. Seeing the boys in less than an hour will help immeasurably. I may bawl. I probably will bawl.

Money update

Looks like hospital stay is covered once my deductible is met. Huge HUGE weight off my shoulders. Can't really afford an $800,000 hospital stay right now.

Not joking.

NICU is more expensive than the mack-daddy suite at an exclusive resort in Hawaii. For reals.