Oh the places you'll go...: August 2015

What a great little party we had. It was circus themed. That's important because my house is a literal circus these days. We had peanuts and popcorn, cotton candy and clown noses. I made the boys their own shirts complete with sparkly bow ties. And they had a good time eating cake for the first time..Will moreso than Alex as seen in the pictures. In short, my boys are one and we have survived the first year of twin hood. It's actually getting harder I think because where sleep deprivation and constant helplessness has left off, mobility and clinginess have set in. It is not uncommon for people to see me out with the kids and come over to tell me I deserve a medal. The boys are more temperamental. They cry and that is a fact I live with every day. Others, however, probably don't have that same understanding or tolerance and I realize that. I try and not be that obnoxious mom who lets her children scream to the dismay of all around her. I'm also not that mom that is so particular that her children do it all correctly. I will pick up that fry off the floor and feed it to my child. I will feed everyone with the same spoon. I will take food out of one kid's mouth and give it to the other if he doesn't want it. It's just one big communal system at my house. I'm not really worried if your child wants to touch mine. I think it's cute. Stop apologizing. They probably aren't going to catch anything from them that they haven't already come across while writhing all over the floor during their crawl over there. Crawling has demonstrated to me exactly how disgusting my floors are, no matter how much I clean them. Of course, the babies are the cause of the dirty floors as well. When I walk through the house and find that sticky spot, I know there's been some kind of food spillage there. But it is slightly embarrassing when you pick up your son to find dirty little knees and toes. So being a mom of 3 now, I can confidently say, you do not need to bathe your child that often. I used to bathe Addison every single night, right before I rocked her to sleep. Twins do not come with such luxuries...at least not in this house. I am relieved to make it through the day, just to get everyone in bed and teeth brushed. I have been known to do the smell test on Addison's hair to see if we can go just one more day. Same with the boys, they get a Huggies wipe bath every day and if they seem a little stale, a good lather of Johnson's Baby Lotion does the trick to freshen them right up. Oh this sounds lazy..it's really not. It's called exhaustion.

The pediatrician told me at their 1 year visit to just keep reading them books and encouraging them to identify objects. It was then that I realized I have never in the whole year of their life, read them a book. It's good I'm not too bummed this go 'round about what makes a good mom and what doesn't, because that fact alone might have caused severe mommy hood doubts and feelings of inferiority. Instead, I realize that I too, am human. The fact that they didn't have story time is overshadowed by the fact that I spent time as the mommy mountain which the baby avalanche completely covered me earlier that morning. It might be that the silly dance to a captive crib audience that made the boys laugh uncontrollably trumped cracking a book. The fact that I ate 2 little boys' bellies and kissed them head to toe during one of their costume changes that day has got to count for something. Even if it's not a book.

Many people ask if I've gone back to work. I never left. When you own your own business, there isn't exactly a separation between work and home...it all just runs together. Kids go to the office with me, work comes home, errands to show apartments happen with screaming children in tow. I apologize and move on. It's the best I can do.

I'm sure I look like an idiot sometimes. For example, this past week I had an appointment with the Gynecologist. My usual sitter had to work late at her other job so I was stuck with 3 children...in a waiting room ...for two hours. It was hell. I'm not going to lie. I am sure those other patients were so ready for us to leave, but I did what I needed to keep those kids content. I pushed the stroller around the halls and through 2 waiting rooms no less than 27 times. I got on the floor and chased boys on my hands and knees in front of men women and children alike. I gave the boys balls and played fetch for them to pass the time. I did what I had to do, no matter how ridiculous I looked. I could feel the eyes, but I just didn't care. Even in the patient room, the boys ran freely as the doc did a pelvic exam. It is what it is. That's how you survive the first year of having twins. You do what you have to do.

Now, there are days when I am slap out of energy. There are days when I fill up the nursery floor with toys and shut the little gate and pray they play nice and no one gets hurt while I close my eyes for just 10 minutes. If I don't, I feel as if I'll surely die. But that's the cost of doing whatever it takes. The cost of making 2 trips up and down the stairs, 2 trips to load kids into the car, not including the luggage that is associated with them. The cost of lifting that freaking heavy double stroller in and out of the back every single time I want to go do anything. The cost of sweating my brains out while trying to strap that car seat in properly one more time.

Recently I had to stop to feed the boys. We were not where we needed to be, but it was lunch time and they were starving. I decided to pull into the mall parking lot. It was close, there was space - the rest I could deal with. So after pulling in, digging out all the equipment, maintaining the air conditioning and positioning myself outside the vehicle to feed one screaming child while the other one wailed while waiting on his turn, I see the mall cop watching me. Again, I could care less that I looked ridiculous half inside my car on a 100 degree day, just hanging in the parking lot of the mall, but he just sat there and I could feel the glare. Eventually, he rolled on over to ask me mid-spoonful, "why is that chair sitting on the ground." (I had taken a bench that I'd been carrying around and put it on the ground so I could get to the food in the bag that was under it.) I really wanted to use some curse words and ask him, what did it matter?!? But I didn't. I excused the fact that the mall cop could hear my screaming offspring and still dared to stop my feeding efforts to ask me an unnecessarily dumb question. I told him the truth...it was in my way. The moral of that tale is simply, I did not care one bit what he needed or what he was going to tell me to do when he came over, I was feeding my babies and whatever request he had would have to wait. Luckily, I didn't have to use my smart mouth and witty rhetoric to shame his rude interruption because he rolled on past after my answer, but I was ready and adamant on completing the mission.

Surviving this first year has toughened me up, given me confidence and forged heavy, deep mommy roots that will not let me be blown over. I kinda like that.