In the past 10 months or so the only person in my life who has consistently noticed when I shaved (which I tend to do infrequently at best) is my little girl - and she notices right away! It has made me think of a number of things.

1. She clearly examines me very closely. What else does she notice that she hasn’t said anything about?
2. I have been a father for over three years and it is still a very strange feeling to know that everything I do is observed and watched extraordinarily closely because I am their model for being a man. Naahhh, I don’t feel any pressure from that at all.
3. She actually had asked me to shave one or two nights ago and I finally had a chance this morning to do it. Do you think she is going to find guys who have less facial hair more attractive because of how she likes me without a full beard? It’s kind of crazy to even think about, but that’s the kind of stuff that has shaped us all without us even being aware of it.
4. I LOVE that she notices right away. It makes me feel really good.

One week. We had one whole week…just long enough to believe that it was for real. Long enough to begin to allow ourselves to believe the sleeping issues were behind us for now. Long enough to actually begin to release some of the tension that builds up inside me every single night I put them to bed. Long enough for me to turn to my wife and voice what I had been thinking for several days, “Isn’t it weird how everything can seem like it has been solved and they sleep through the night again?” That was the last night of the streak – 10 straight nights where they both slept through the night and neither of them got upset when I walked out of the room after tucking them in. Why do I always have to open my big mouth???

Out of the blue, Elijah started calling my name after I was already downstairs, getting ready to go to a meeting. He wanted the moon night light turned off – the same light that has been on every night of the streak. He wasn’t crying and seemed to be in bed so I went upstairs and turned off the light. He got upset when I walked out, but remembering the lessons from last time, I told him he could do this and that we were not going to come back upstairs. He could do this on his own. He cried for another minute or so and, I thought, went back to sleep.

Around midnight or so, someone was crying and we were concerned it was Jordyn because she wasn’t feeling so great before bedtime. It was Elijah crying out for us. As I walked up the stairs to go to their room, I saw the overhead light leaking through the bottom of the doorway. The streak was also long enough for me to forget to turn off the overhead light using the pull switch instead of the panel on the wall. Jordyn was not feeling well and he made her try to sleep in the light all night long. I was furious.

I checked in on Jordyn and tried to help her feel better. I think she has mucous pouring down her throat and it was making her a bit sick to her stomach. I gave her some Benadryl and helped her drink some water. I got her to lay back down and begin falling asleep. I tucked Elijah back in and told him I was very upset that he turned the light on and not to do it again.  Then I went downstairs and took some Sudafed PM myself since I could feel the mucous pouring down my throat as well. Damn allergies were getting to all of us.

Then they woke up at 6:40am for some reason and, of course, I begin to wonder if it has begun again. A reminder that despite my best efforts, I am for the most part, utterly helpless when it comes to getting my children to sleep through the night. On the one hand, I know I have done a lot of things to help my children fall asleep easier and sleep through the night. On the other hand, something always happens to change that “success” and I have to figure something new all over again.

What are we up to now? Plan R?

It all happened so fast. One minute Gem and I were trying to imagine what it would be like to be the parents of two babies at one time. Sure she was on bed rest, but we believed that she would go to term. The next minute we were in a cab, on a Friday night marking 30 weeks, on the way to the hospital. After four days of torture for my wife, trying everything humanly possible to keep our little beings inside her, our kids had finished counting to ten, as if we were playing hide-and-seek, and said, “Ready or not here we come!” And they did, two-and-a-half months early. We didn’t even have one crib yet. We even had to postpone her baby shower since it was supposed to be the weekend she was admitted to the hospital. We were completely unprepared for being the parents of premature babies.

This is on my mind once again because we went to the eye doctor yesterday for Jordyn. She had Retinopathy of Prematurity, a problem with both of her eyes that, if not treated right away, can cause blindness. The hospital, where they spent the first month of their lives, never told us she had this problem – even though we were there every day. It was only when they were released that they set up an appointment without telling us why at a place that was absolutely terrifying. Luckily, we found a retinologist and two months after she was born, one month after she came home, Jordyn was readmitted to the hospital for laser surgery on both of her eyes. She still has to wear a patch on one eye because one of her eyes was so weak the brain was ignoring the signals it sent which also could lead to blindness. But this seems to be under control for now.

The doctor told us he was leaving for the Dominican Republic to work with children who have very serious eye problems down there. He casually said that they don’t have the same treatment options for premature babies that our kids experienced.

It is times like that when it hits me. My little girl was so close to being blind not once but twice. If she had been born twenty years earlier or in another country, she probably would have lost her vision as an infant and never even had a chance to see the world, or see the look of love in the eyes of her parents. How different all of our lives would be.

We have been blessed with the kind of medical care that saved the sight of my little girl. It all happened so fast, I forget how close and how dangerous it all has been and how lucky we are it seems to be working out all right.

What is the situation with which I am most uncomfortable in my life right now? Potty training. Where have some of the best interactions with my little girl been lately? While she has been sitting on the toilet, and me having to deal with all of the stuff that makes me uncomfortable.

I think one of the biggest challenges of having twins (and something I’ve even touched on here before - see Splitting up time with our children) is the lack of one-on-one time with my children. I get a lot of time with both of them, but almost none one at a time. Who knew that would be one of the advantages of potty training?

When my little girl needs to use the toilet (less cringing), it doesn’t matter who is around – she asks for me. I choose to believe it is because we have been having such nice times together when she is in the bathroom instead of that she knows this is my weakness and is trying to torture me. She wouldn’t want to torture her own Daddy would she???

This is where I get to see how smart she is and what a phenomenal memory she really has.  I have placed three books in the bathroom for her. The first one, “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?” by Eric Carle, she has been reading to me every single time. No, she can’t actually read (she is only three after all), but she has the entire book memorized and all I do is turn the pages for her. It is quite a bit of fun. The second book is about Shabbat and she gets to show me how much she knows about all the Jewish objects associated with the weekly holiday and show off how well she counts and differentiates between objects. The third book is “A, B, C” by Dr. Seuss. She already knows quite a few of the letters and enjoys telling me which ones she knows and then we play what words or names begin with those letters. She’s really quite good at it.

The best part of the entire experience (who knew there could be a best part of anything in the bathroom?) is seeing my beautiful little girl get this look on her face when she is working hard and knows she is doing well. It is the most gorgeous face I have ever seen. I keep falling in love with her each and every time.

While I’m sitting on the bathtub and she’s on the toilet of all places!!!

The morning after Elijah talked about hoping I would be there with him (With Daddy?), he was still sleeping when I had to leave for work so I left him a note. On construction paper in several different colors, I told him how proud of him I was, what a great sleeper he was, and that I loved him. I even drew a stick figure with hair. Let’s get this right out in the open. I am actually quite terrible at drawing. I always wanted to be good at it, but I never was. I really have trouble even drawing decent stick figures. Seriously.

Gem told me that he absolutely loved it! Loved it! Was so excited about it – especially the pathetic stick figure drawing because he thought it was him and something about me drawing him made him feel special. (How many times have I done something special for him that failed, that didn’t have any impact on him – it was pretty nice to have done something by accident that has special meaning for him.)

I also left him five chocolate chips. We’ve been trying to find a reward for him, something that he will enjoy earning. For Jordyn, mini M&Ms are a big deal (though last night she peed and pooped in the toilet – yes toilet – and didn’t even ask for them. She is really making incredible strides, thank God), but they didn’t do much for Elijah. However, I remembered the Remember when from a couple of weeks ago (Remember when we had chocolate chips?) and I had theorized that chocolate chips were something he connected with me, so I left him chocolate chips. He loved them. That night he even said if he sleeps through the night he’ll get chocolate chips.

He also said he wanted another note from me, but Gem forgot to tell me. Thankfully, she wrote a little note to cover for me and Elijah loved it again. Last night at dinner, Elijah looked at me from across the table and asked if he could have another note in the morning. After they went to bed, I played around on the computer and created a note for Elijah that had a picture of the two of us and told him how proud of him I am, what a good sleeper he is and how much I love him. Then I found a picture of Jordyn and told her how proud I am of how well she is doing with the potty. I also told her what a great sleeper she is, because she has been an incredible sleeper and has gotten nothing for it except having to listen to him scream. When I was congratulating Elijah the other night, she said, “I’m a good sleeper, too.” It’s true and it is easy to take that for granted. I put his note on the breakfast table (with his five chocolate chips) and put her note on her potty (Gem’s idea) with her five mini M&Ms.

The pathetic, neurotic me feels like these notes will be death of me. Every night, needing to come up with a new note for each of them, something that will make them feel good, feel how I feel about them. That’s a lot of pressure, the kind of pressure that usually only punishes failure, but doesn’t reward success. (Yes, I have a very strong negative side of me, folks.)

However, the rest of me is amazed and proud. I managed to find another way to connect to my children while I am away at work, another way to build our relationship, another way to make sure they always know how strongly I feel for them.

Not too shabby for a few minutes of “work.”

Elijah slept through the entire night and didn’t cry when he went to bed Sunday night. When he woke up, Gem gave him some M&Ms as a reward, because I was already on my way into the office.

Last night at dinner (while I was sitting with my little girl while she was peeing in the potty…see? I’m getting better at this), Gem reminded Elijah that if he slept through the night he would get M&Ms again when he woke up.

“Will Daddy be there?” he asked, his voice full of hope.

“If you wake up early enough, but if not we’ll see him later. But after you wake up we’ll go to Senorita Carina’s class (their Spanish class they have on Wednesdays),” my wife responded, trying to change the subject.

“With Daddy?” he replied, again hoping against hope.

“No, not with Daddy. He has to go to work,” she said gently.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” he said with his mouth in a giant “O” shape and his head leaned all the way back and then falling all the way forward.

My wife looked at me and I looked at her, our eyes swelled with tears. For a moment no one said anything. What was there to say?

“Are you okay?” she mouthed to me.

“Yeah,” I said, lying.