Thursday, December 8, 2022

The Problem of Two Jesuses Part 2

Hi, everyone, 

Last week, I started a mini-series during the season of Advent in which I am focusing on a question that has come up for me since our twins were born: What happens if you see the divine in two people at the same time? And the more tricky, related question: What happens when those two people need your limited self at the same time?

 

Each week, I’ll touch on two ways that having twins has helped me explore the broader tensions I experience any time there are multiple goods that compete for my limited time, energy, and resources (e.g., work life vs. family life; community service vs. necessary self care; traveling to visit friends and family vs. traveling to discover a new place; etc.). Specifically, I’ll be thinking through what having twins has taught me about how to be in the face of multiple often-competing good things in my life.   

 

First, having twins has required me to be CREATIVE. There are times when the babies both need something at the same time—to be fed, for example. When Mike or someone else is around and I am feeding just one of them, it is easiest and most effective for me to hold the baby in one arm and the bottle in the other. However, this clearly won’t work when I’m in charge of two bottles for two babies.

 

The last few months have seen me try some rather unorthodox ideas to ensure that the babies eat at the same time (which we want to do to keep them on the same schedule). I almost always put the babies on their mats or in their bouncy seats so I can hold both bottles, but in addition to that pretty obvious solution, I often prop swaddles on their chests in the hope that they will support the bottles. It works only about 75% of the time, but that’s a high enough success rate that it buys me a bit of time to deal with one baby’s fallen bottle before having to switch to the other’s. A few times, I’ve positioned the babies in a way that allows me to use each baby’s body as a support for the other’s bottle. I even tried feeding one baby with my feet and another with my hands.

 

I’m not trying to argue that the fact that I have twins has led me to the height of creativity or anything, but it has required that I innovate to try to accommodate both babies whenever possible.

 

This applies to me trying to meet my own needs/desires as well. When my family was here over Thanksgiving, my mom made what we always request: chocolate pudding, a dessert that combines chocolate cake and sauce topped with vanilla ice cream (think lava cake but 20 times better). Now, the timing of this dessert is crucial. You have to have it straight out of the oven so that the balance of hot and cold is just right. On this occasion, the chocolate pudding was ready right as the babies needed to eat. What to do? Get creative!


 

Sometimes you can have your cake (or your mom’s signature dessert!) and eat it too.

 

Likewise, there are times when I can figure out a creative way to combine different goods in my life that on the surface, might seem to compete. For instance, one way I have managed the tension between my professional life and my social life is by trying to attend conferences which my academic friends will be attending or which take place in locations where other friends live. It then feels like the conference is doing double duty in my life, helping me meet multiple priorities—scholarly pursuits and relationships—simultaneously.   

 

The second characteristic having twins has required of me is to be as FAIR as possible. There may be instances like those mentioned above when I can innovate and come up with a way to help both babies at the same time. But more often than not, that I can’t.

 

The other day, neither baby had slept much during the day, and they were both incredibly grumpy. They wouldn’t fall asleep, and it wasn’t yet time for them to eat. They both quickly worked themselves up into dueling fits of rage. Sometimes I can carry both babies at the same time, but as they get bigger, it is becoming harder, and for a variety of reasons, that wasn’t an option that day. So, what happens in this situation? I just took turns holding each baby, trying to comfort them as best I could. I would hold Sophie and count to 60 while Hazel screamed on their mat. Then, I’d put Sophie down and hold Hazel for 60 seconds. We went back and forth many times as I literally counted down the minutes before Mike got off work and could take one of them. There might have been other solutions I could have tried, but in the moment, this was the most fair thing I could think to do.

 

And I don’t think fairness is always that exact or easy to discern. There are some days when Hazel just needs me more than Sophie does. And vice versa. My job as a parent is to pay attention to my habits over time and to ensure that I don’t consistently give one child more support or affection than the other, though the specific kinds of support and affection each one needs will depend on her developing personalities and interests.

 

In her own way, Sophie tried taking turns between two competing good things a week or two ago. For over a month now, she has been working hard to suck her thumb, and she has recently had some triumph in that area. However, she is also still quite interested in having her pacifier in her mouth, and even as she was relishing her newfound thumb-sucking skill, she was frustrated that it came at the expense of this other experience she enjoys immensely. There were a number of moments when Sophie tried to “do it all” and learned (as I have almost every day of my life) that this is rarely possible. She could have her pacifier or her thumb in her mouth, but not both:

 

 

Every day, Sophie and Hazel are practicing turn-taking not just with what they put in their mouths but with what comes out of them. As the babies become more vocal, they are learning that what you say (expressive language) happens in relation to what you hear (receptive language). They speak and then they pause, listening for a response from Mike or me, or from each other. There is balance between the two goods of expressing oneself and listening to others.

 

Similarly, one of the main ways I have learned to deal with competing goods in my life is to take turns, to seek out as much fairness and balance as I can. This might look like switching back and forth between spending the holidays in OH (it is good to be with Mike’s people) and in WA (it is good to be with my people) [Note: this is a simplification; I’ve written elsewhere about how Mike’s people have become mine and mine have become his]. Or seeking fairness might mean walking to work sometimes (it is good to get exercise and to spend time outside) and driving at other times (it is good to get a bit more sleep before an 8am class). Or it might mean spending some of my free time with friends (it is good for me to connect with those I love) and some of my fair time alone (I am an introvert and it is good for me to have time to recharge).


Whether I am being creative and figuring out a way to enjoy two good things together or trying to split my time and attention fairly between them, the season of Advent leads me to believe that the divine is tangible in our daily lives. And because the divine is infinite, there is no limit to the ways we can experience it. This means that I am constantly having to choose which experiences of the divine to pursue and which others to set aside. Next week, I’ll share two more ways that having twins has helped me navigate competing goods in my life and talk specifically about how Sophie and Hazel have affected my lifelong fear of missing out.

 

Until then, have a good week!

 

Sarah/Mouse


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