Skip to main content

Extra, Extra


 

A lady stopped me as I chased our girls into church last Sunday.  And I mean chased.  I was literally running down the crazy one as she dodged elderly patrons who were trying to exit the building.  But before I could catch hold of her collar, an older woman stopped me.  "Are they twins?" She asked.  They were in matching dresses on this occasion.    

"Yes, they are," I replied trying to keep my eyes on the escapee.  

"What a wonderful blessing.  You are just so lucky."

She was very genuine and very sweet.  I should probably mention here that I am not a saint.  Working on it, not there yet.  Luckily, my first response got lost in the noise of the foyer, and on my second attempt, I simply agreed with her.  "Yes, I am blessed."  

I am.  I really am.  But as another twin parent once said about their twins, "They are a blessing I wouldn't wish on anyone."  It's the truth.  I am so, so happy we have them, but wow.  I met another twin mom last week.  Her twins are five.  Ours our three.  "Does it get easier?" I asked hopefully.  She just looked at me.

"I don't want to get your hopes up," she told me.  "But maybe my twins are just a little "extra," you know?"

Oh, I know.  

Today, I stood in the kitchen watching one girl pull her pants down to pee on a tree.  The other one ran in and out of the house three times.  Each time she came in, she was panicking that she had to poop, but then the urge would pass and she would run back outside.  Finally, she tore back into the house and sat on the toilet.  At the same time, the one peeing outside was suddenly very concerned about her pants and underwear.  They were down around her ankles and she was walking across the yard frantic that she couldn't get them back up.  I started toward her when the twin in the bathroom started panic yelling from the toilet.  What do you do?  Run outside and help the naked baby that might have peed on herself and can't get her pants up?  Or run to the bathroom and help the naked baby who may have pooped before she decides to run out and find you?  Or option three, stay put and see how things play out?  

It's a choose your own adventure story every single day.  So yes, we are blessed.  Very blessed.  But darn it, it's harrrrrd.  

Although, it's possible that our girls might just be a little "extra."       

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Pink Stinks

Our girls, like most four-year-old girls, love pink.  And purple.  And sparkly things, unicorns, butterflies, lizards and cats.  But especially pink.  Their brothers aren't so fond of pink.  They prefer the color dirt.  I know this because it's what they have chosen for the color of our walls, windows, light switches and their socks.   "Do you like pink?"  Emerson asked Fischer one day not long ago. "No." "Why?" "Because pink stinks !" Cue 'angry tears and screaming.' This of course delighted her brother who began using the line anytime he wanted to see her cry.  Which was often.  It didn't change her passion for the color, however.  She still demanded the pink plate, pink cup, pink shirt, pink shoes, and pink gum if she had the choice.  Because pink is the best when you're four.   Fast forward a couple of weeks.  The girls were collecting pieces of garbage off the van floor.  Why?  I don't know, b...

Fear Factor

 Did you know that it has been not  scientifically proven that a baby can smell her mother's presence through a closed door.  It's probably the smell of fear that they are actually attuned to, but nonetheless.  I hold my breath and walk on tiptoe past the baby's room and still get busted nearly every time.  My fear is pungent. Besides waking the babies, I have another fear currently in the forefront of my mind.  Don't mind me, this is just another episode of True Confessions.. .  Here it is: the boys are getting so much outside time that they are building up incredible endurance.  It's great really, but it is   becoming  so hard to wear them out. It used to be an hour at the playground and we were golden.  Now, they basically put in an eight-hour workday, and it's just a warm-up!  Does anybody have a treadmill....?  Real school is going to be a bit of an adjustment for the big guy next fall.    Speaking of s...

Reflecting

It's August. I guess I can stop waiting for that call from the Oregon Department of Education.  It appears I didn't earn teacher of the year after all.  I wonder if it had something to do with my mask policy?  It definitely could have been the mask policy.   Personally, I thought the duct tape worked great.   *Sigh* It was probably the mask policy.  You win some.  You lose some.  Better luck next year.   Speaking of next year, we are trying a hybrid homeschool program.  Sawyer gets to go to school twice a week and learn at home the other days.  I'm confident he will fall in love with his teacher in the first eight minutes.  She is young, cute and very enthusiastic.  It's going to either make him work really hard or be a complete distraction.  Either way, on the "home" days, I'm going to make her look really good.  Pajama Mama is neither young nor cute and I'm rarely enthusiastic (which may have als...