When my twins were babies, the best way to get them to go to sleep was to swing them in their bucket car seats. I’d strap them in, pick them up, and give my arms a good work out by swaying them back and forth. It worked like a charm, and it was a trick I used often with two babies who didn’t like to sleep on the same schedule. Except for one day, when they were about four months old.

My daughter was particularly cranky so I put her in her bucket, started to swing her, and I watched in total horror as she ejected from the car seat and tumbled to the floor.

In the fog of sleepless nights and taking care of two babies, I’d totally forgotten to strap her in. Of course, I thought I’d broken my baby. Luckily, I had another one as back-up. (She was totally fine and I like to use the “It’s because I dropped you on your head” story when she’s having a teenage moment). [caption id="attachment_23765" align="aligncenter" width="500"]The one I dropped The one I dropped[/caption]

Mother's Day has always been something that I have felt proud and privileged to be a part of.  In May 2001, I was 6 months pregnant with my my oldest child and I remember a friend of mine giving me a Mother's Day card designed specifically for a "mother-to-be."  I was so excited for the new adventure in mothering that was about to unfold.
At that time, I was married. I expected that my "mommy experience" was going to follow the intact family path - one with a mommy and a daddy living under the same roof and raising their children as a unit.