There is nothing in this world quite like snuggling a baby.
Although yesterday I would not have said that. Yesterday—a day even with my mom's help—was nightmarish. If one baby wasn't crying to be held, the other one was. They were awake constantly. My normally calm baby was fussy. My fussy baby was even more fussy. Spitting up (read: projectile vomiting) was a regular occurrence. We were lucky if an outfit lasted five minutes. Laundry piled up. They wanted to nurse every hour (sometimes really, sometimes that's just what it felt like). My mom and I, two grown-ass women, could hardly handle their constant demands, along with doing enough laundry to stay afloat, having a chance to eat SOMETHING to keep our strength up, and taking the time to change our own clothes after being spit up on for the twelfth time.
And then today they were perfect angels. Back on track with a schedule (at least as much as an almost-six-week-old has a schedule). Naps happened. Clean laundry became more than just a dream.
Growth spurt? An off-day? The moon was in Aquarius? April Fool's? I'm not quite sure, but it's amazing how you survive one day just to tumble into the next, never quite knowing what might happen. One day you can't wait to put a baby down for just FIVE MINUTES TO MYSELF PLEASE and the next you pick them up for a half-hour of snuggles just because they are cuddly and cute and adorable and because you can.
And really, how cute are they? (Also, we haven't quite gotten the hang of hey-look-at-me-while-I'm-pointing-a-camera-at-you.) A half hour of just-because snuggles? Totally worth the fussy days. Just remind me of that the next time one of those days rolls around...