Jen concentrates on broccoli.
If you wonder what a daily dose of twin-rearing is like, allow me to break it down chronologically. Here's what went down today, on an average Monday:
630 : Wake up after a rather short night of sleep, which was my fault, since we did stay up a bit late Sunday night to watch the Oscars (and let me include here a belated thanks to Chris and Emily for bringing over both food and beer that night, in your typical magnanimous and superlatively generous manner. You rule a thousand times over.)
645 - 700 : Shower. This can take longer on the days after we've given the girls a bath, as it is precluded with 8 minutes of cursing and bath-toy picking up.
700 - 730 : Jen has settled into the role of morning parent; if she does this begrudgingly, she surely never shows it. Today, as mostly every day, she gets the munchkins de-pooped and sparklingly ready for a day of day care action. During this time I'm dressing, eschewing the 5 clean shirts in favor of the really comfortable sweatshirt that's on its 8th wear since a wash and has a glaring spit-up stain on the shoulder. I make a mental note to remark on it at work; act surprised, say something like, "Oh, man, I can't believe this..." Then I spend a few minutes trying to figure out if I've already done that the last time I wore this shirt.
730 : First trip to the car - my bag, their food, start the car and scrape the windows. I choke on every bad thing I've ever muttered about suburbs when the notion of a connected garage enters my mind.
735 : Second trip. Lily is in the next-gen car seat, the kind that stays in the car, so I'm carrying her a la mode, but Abby is still in the original car seat. She'll make the leap soon, though, and I'm still not sure how that will work, logistically. We pause at the front door and, in what has become a favorite tradition, I bounce them around while yelling, "Bye bye Mommy!" They love it every time.
740 : I take them to day care. We sing, " This is the way we go to daycare, go to daycare, go to daycare, this is the way we go to daycare, every freaking morning." a la "Here we go round the mulberry bush." It's another tradition, although with this they've never even remotely cared. I enjoy it.
800 - 430 : Work. My job is enjoyable and the people are delightful to be around. I consider this my time off during the day.
430 - 515 : Drive to day care, pick up kids. Today I found out that Lily had bitten another kid in some random act of mastication that was more curiousness than mean-spirited act. I laugh, of course, because my kid biting another kid...well, it's just kinda funny I guess. Assuming I'm not the other kid. They assure me it's not an issue; I take no chances and keep my digits clear of her mouth when I pick her up.
515 - 600 : Playtime. General anarchy. This continues in various ways until both kids achieve a critical mass of crankyness, known in physics as Ck(max). This is when they are swiftly scooped up and plopped into their high chairs, where Ritz crackers are thrust into their palms. Crunch.
600 - 630 : Dinnertime. This used to be a lot more enjoyable, but we're going through a slightly difficult phase as of late. Tonight Jen steamed broccoli, the smell of which I mistook for an exorbitantly poopy diaper. Seriously. Suffice it to say, I hate cooked broccoli. The morons liked it, though, and I have to admit it was fun to watch them eat the little sprigs of neon-green evilness.
630 - 715 : On a bath night (roughly every other) this is when that goes down. I dread bath night for no reason at all; they love it, I love it, Jen loves it, the dog is a fan, yet it's a level of effort that I can't help but abhor. Tonight was not bath night, so it was free time, play with some toys, read a few books. Gripping stuff. I was thrilled when I saw Abby bring her knees up and underneath her a couple times, effectively going to all fours. It was a first. She's progressing, glacially, on an epoch scale, but it's progress nonetheless and I will embrace it with joy and relief at every turn.
715 : Lily has her bottle and excuses herself for bed.
730 : Abby catches a second wind, rolls herself off my lap, and spends about 20 minutes standing at the coffee table laughing, pounding, and giggling. Quality time.
745ish : Abby finishes her bottle, and I take her wide-eyed self up to bed. She never makes a peep.
800 : Start cooking dinner. Grilled cheese and soup. I've finally converted Jen to the flock of "cheddar makes a better grilled cheese than American" believers.
830 - 930 : Jen's got a big paper due, so I clean up for the most part.
930 - 1000 : Unable to resist the lure of my work's camera, I take a few pictures of random objects around the house.
1000 - 1100 : Do some random tasks, play scrabble on Facebook.
1100 - now : Remember that I've got this damn blog to do an entry for, so now here I am, writing this and wondering why the Current has Jill Riley on air during a membership drive.
I'd like to point out - in case you weren't doing the running tally - that, of the roughly 16 hours I'm awake during a day, I spend only about 3 of those hours with my kids. Sometimes I pick them up at daycare and it is like they have this secret daytime life that I know nothing about, which makes me kinda sad. Which is a terrible place to end this entry, but I'm having trouble keeping my eyes open, so there it is...
Day eight
Abby was doing great with her crawling progress; then Daddy pushed her too far. "You're a winner, dammit!" "Waaah!" Yup, that's how I parent.
All was forgotten moments later, however, because it was moments later and that's how kids' minds work. It's lovely.
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