When my daughter was born, I fully expected the worst.  It was game on, and I was prepared for colic, sleepless nights, 4AM feedings and dark circles under my eyes.  It was my first baby, and nothing could faze me. 

Imagine my surprise when I realized just how easy it actually was.  After just 5 weeks, my daughter began sleeping in 6-7 hour stretches during the night.  There was no colic, there were no bags under my eyes, and I was ready for the “Mother of the Year” award.

Fast forward 7 years. 

Still quite confident that I bore children who would sleep like angels in any circumstance, I smugly brought my new twin boys home from the hospital with a “Take Charge” attitude that everything would be harmonious and peaceful, and I would keep my “Holier Than Thou”crown.

Boy was I in for a “RUDE AWAKENING”. 

The first week wasn’t too bad, because my husband and I enlisted the help of family members to help us through those first few nights.  But family members have their own lives, and eventually those lives called. 

I’ll never forget the first night we were alone.  My daughter caught a bad cold that day,  and my husband began sneezing and complaining of a sore throat late that afternoon.

I put husband and daughter to bed.  I wasn’t worried – after all, I was SUPERMOM.

The night  began quite calmly.  I fed both babies and put them down in their crib.  Then I plumped up the pillows on the floor beside the crib, snuggled into my sleeping bag and prepared for a long winter’s nap.

THAT, my dear friends, is when the fun began.

My daughter appeared in the doorway, frightfully pale and  whimpering.  “Mama?  I don’t feel so well.”  And before I could lift my head, she held her stomach and threw up all over the floor.

I was out of my sleeping bag faster than Superman flies (I’m not exaggerating - he would’ve been left in my dust),and led my daughter to the bathroom, trying to comfort her and keep my eyes open at the same time.

After a few more upchucks, I put her back in bed, gave her a few sips  of water, and returned to my sleeping bag.

Sighing, I closed my eyes again.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. 

One of the twins decided he was no longer tired, needed to be changed-fed-played with-rocked back to sleep.  Before my exhausted brain could distinguish which twin it was, the other twin heard the music and joined in falsetto.

And then there were two.

I tried to calculate exactly when I fed them last, but my mind was a bit fuzzy at this point and I honestly could not remember.  Don’t panic.  You got this.  It’s fine.  Encouraging words from me to… well… myself, I guess. 

I did nurse my twins, but at 12:30AM, as tired as I was, not even  a SUPERMOM would attempt to breastfeed two screaming one-month old twins at the same time on the floor of the nursery.  Instead, I ran for the bottles of formula  we kept for just such emergencies as this one.

With a baby in each arm, I managed to insert the bottles into their mouths and thanked God for the newfound silence that filled the room.

I was smiling as the twins eagerly drank their bottles, when I noticed a shadow on the wall.  My daughter.  Ready to throw up again.  And needing me to hold her head over the toilet. 

I think, all in all, I got about 2 hours of sleep that night,and every night for the next few weeks.

I was on autopilot.  I served burnt pizza for dinner (forgot to set the timer on the oven and it overcooked.)  I left wet laundry in the washing machine because I forgot to put it in the dryer.  I washed my hair with body soap, and my dishes with baby lotion (HEY – with bleary eyes, all the bottles start to look the same.)  I had never been so tired in my entire life.

And just as I was about to give up hope, and watch my Mother of the Millenium Award go  up in smoke, something amazing happened.  I woke up to silence.  When I  looked at the clock, it was 7AM.  I seriously thought I was still dreaming.  But I wasn’t.  The twins had allowed me to sleep for 6 straight hours at one time!

I felt like dancing.  I felt like jumping for joy.  But I didn’t.  Instead, I closed my eyes and fell back into a blissful sleep… until the babies woke me at 7:05.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:  Yes, the events that happened in the story above are both accurate and  truthful.  My twin boys still don’t sleep through the night on many nights, and there are times when I walk around in a daze, remembering that precious commodity called sleep.  New moms beware – you may not sleep soundly for years once you bring that newborn home.  BUT YOU WILL SURVIVE.  And I promise you, someday you will look back to those sleepless nights  and wish you had them back. So enjoy them.  Every second.  Supermom’s orders.

It’s kind of funny, in a way.  The moment the sonographer told me that she saw not one, but TWO babies on the ultrasound, I was bombarded with about a thousand different thoughts:  How were we going to cope with two newborns?  Oh, please let them both be healthy.  What will my husband say?  Will we ever sleep again?  Are they boys, girls or  one of each?  I can’t wait to meet them!  Wow!  TWO BABIES????

Not once in that room, as I stared at the woman who informed me of the life-changing event that would forever alter my little family structure (an event that she uttered as casually, mind you,  as one would announce that she had a salad for lunch) did I think about the fact that we would need TWO of everything! 

Thank goodness for family, who helped us survive not only the first few weeks with our brand new baby boys,but also helped us collect and gather pairs of everything – from matching outfits, to high chairs, swings, toys, bouncers, car seats, strollers (double wide and separate single ones), breast pumps, walkers… I could go  on for hours, but I’m sure you get the idea.

Then the question became not how do we afford double of everything, but what do we do with everything once the twins outgrow the stuff?

As I sat on the couch in a room I vaguely remembered as my living room, surrounded by bouncy seats, bumbos and pack and plays, I realized that as the babies grow, we’d have to let go. 

It’s not that I’m a hoarder, mind you, but when my daughter was a baby, her clothes were so cute that when she outgrew them, I’d pack them away in boxes with cute little labels like “Talia’s 3-6 months summer clothes” and “Talia’s infant toys”  and store  themaway  in a closet, waiting for the day when she would head off to closet and I’d sit on the floor with a box of tissues and open every single one, weeping tears as the memories replayed through my mind.

As I packed up my  sons’ adorable and hardly worn 0-3 month winter clothes, I felt nostalgic.  I knew that years from now, I would unpack the boxes and I would remember that one crisp day back in December of 2010, when they wore those pale blue fuzzy footed pajamas and we went out to the pediatrician for their two month checkup…

Holding  back the tears, I taped up the box, opened the hall closet and then it hit me - there was no more room!

And that is how Expressive Baby was born.  Well, the short version, anyway.  Yes, I thought of taking boxes and boxes of barely worn clothes and toys and baby gear to Once Upon a Child, but let’s face it – that store gives you pennies on the dollar for your precious items, and plus I’d have  to make about 20 trips back and forth which, with twins, is absolutely unthinkable.

I could post all my items on Craig’s List or Ebay, but those sites have turned into corporate driven mish mashes of  “I don’t know what”.  Besides, it takes me about 45 minutes to post ONE item on Ebay – too complex when I have three loads of laundry going, two babies to feed and a seven year old who wants to beat mommy for the zillionth time on Wii Party.

Expressive Baby was my answer.  Not only could I post my own items for sale in a carefully niched, easy to use website that caters only to baby goods, but I could help other busy mommies sell their items, ON THEIR TERMS.  At the same time, I could offer a unique and fun shopping experience for moms who need stuff – QUALITY STUFF – without paying too much for those items.

This website is the result of months of thinking, planning, strategizing, programming, testing and reprogramming.  And you are witness to the birth of our fourth child… Welcome to Expressive Baby.