potty trained?

yeah, so apparently i'm the only one who's potty trained. i'm oretty much trained to order people onto the toilet once an hour and dispense m& ms. does this stop z from pooping in her pants? no.

is it possible that I am washing more laundry than when they were wearing just cloth diapers?

at least sam uses the litter box. most of the time

storyhour fail

in our defence, the librarian is terrible. she is never on time, doesn't engage the kids AT ALL, and insists on passive agressively chastising me for dressing the girls alike & then commenting on how people can't tell even fraternal twins apart - with multiple examples. Like we have patience for that. Then she insists on starting story hour by having the kids get out of their seats to feed a fish to the pelican puppet. 'Cause we're all going to sit nicely after WE ALL GET UP AND JUMP AROUND A PUPPET! WHO THEN SITS AT HER FEET TO "LISTEN" TO THE STORY!" Sorry, but am I the only one who sees where this is going to end?

Perhaps she enjoys re-shelving the entire children's section.

overheard

When asked what they are going to be for halloween, C had this to say (in one breath):

"we going to be wadybugs and daddy is going to be a scawy spider and I will stomp on him and go grrrrrrr!"

You may think that I have sped up the video. But no, sadly, this is their normal speed.

why?!

why does every activity end with a melt down, thumbsucking, blankets & DVR'd sesame street?

this is the only time I don't hear shrieking. please tell me I'm not alone & that my children are not being better served by muppets.

Tuesday morning (in numbers)

loads of laundry washed dried and folded - 1
times zoe threw all the socks from said laundry on the floor - 3
wardrobe changes for zoe - 3
people who pooped on the bedroom carpet - 2
times chloe sat on the potty - 8
times chloe peed on the potty - 1
times chloe peed her through her tinkerbell underwear, pants and socks - 1
pairs of tinkerbell underpants left - 0
tantrums thrown by zoe re: lack of tinkerbell underpants - 2
episodes of curious george watched - 3
catboxes cleaned - 1
ungrateful cats - who knows, can't find him
donuts eaten - 1
locksmiths H will need if he comes home at 10pm again - at least 2

Ahh... Friday

I am sitting at my desk after sending a patient off to get her blood drawn when I look down at my right arm and realize I have pancake batter dried to my right forearm. And not just a dribble. A whole damn mess of it.

so professional.


Construction continues at the "house of screaming children" (as I often like to answer the phone. Ala IHOP) They have discovered that my bedroom is not actually connected to the rest of the house by anything other than gravity and good intentions. And they found a mess of papers and odd bits from 1850-ish. Newspapers, school books, a fountain pen and an unfinished letter to a cousin who had come to visit and since returned home.

Things I have learned, but do not surprise me:
1. my house is damn old
2. it should have fallen back into the earth many many years ago
3. the 3-day job is reminding me of that trip on the SS Minnow
4. it's going to cost me... about double the original estimate
4. Z does not like to sleep at Grandma's house
5. I did not pack enough cookies

They now think they will be done painting by next tuesday. next tuesday people. as in 4 more days in the future. Wherein me and the peanuts (and Sam the Man) stay at G-ma's with Michael. Who has no job. and will not. stop. speaking. ever. Yesterday Z told him to "shut up and be quiet!" at least 4 times. Z does not mince words.

C wants nothing more than to pet Buttons the 14 year-old de-clawed cat. Buttons would rather have his back claws extracted. He spends his time alternately hissing and growling at her. Does this deter C? Nope. She stands there and says "Buttons is my friend, he loves me" The girl is afraid of lint on the floor, but a cat showing all his teeth and spitting at her is her friend. who loves her. She has the full on crazy. And trust me, that kind of nutty does not come from the platypus side of the fam. That's for damn skippy.

Now Z on the other hand. She's one of us. We all would like to tell Michael to shut up and be quiet. with a few extra expletives.

Please send wine. and duct tape. or a shovel to bury the evidence.

Feeling better today

mostly b/c I am at work. The whining started before they actually woke up with C yelling (in her sleep at 5am) "No Do-Do! Don't take my cookie!"

I hope H is having fun with them today. I am working tomorrow too which they are not bound to like, but I am thinking is necessary if we all expect to survive the week.

I wish I knew what all the crabbiness was about.

jumping on the couch

....is preferable to beating them with the broom after they threw their dinner plates on the floor. right?

Terrible Twos or Terrible Mother?

I am waiting for the pot of coffee to brew while the girls watch elmo in grouchland for the second time today. by request. I tried to sit on the floor and get them to play little people, but I couldn't stand the whining and fighting over the little elmo and grover.

I'm too tired to do it today, but I'm finding, increasingly, that I am too tired to fight with them on most days. The whining is wearing on me. Or the caffeine is wearing off. the past two days we went swimming at g-mas and they crabbed out there too.

Don't get me wrong, I still wouldn't go back to that first year where everyone screamed in my face for no apparent reason. But I'm starting to feel like all they do is scream in my face. Now they apparently have a reason. It just doesn't seem like a valid one to me.

I don't have the strength to post about potty training just yet. suffice to say that Z has added whining about M&Ms to her repertoire.

coffee's done

what's more fun?

listening to C yell "wake up Do-Do!" & "Daddy? You help me and come in the window?*" while they are supposed to be napping?

or

enduring Sammy's silent judgement as he ponders the futility of my mopping the floors.

It's a toss up, really. Both have their merits in the race to fully and finally divide me from my sanity.

(and fyi, H, I did not plug in, but am sending this from my phone in an effort to avoid twi-crack at naptime. seriously, I need a church basement meeting with bad coffee to kick this. It's a disease people!)


* what the hell?! When did anyone ever come in through her 2nd story window, let alone to 'help' her? She's a nutter.

Seeking Sleep Solidarity

Will someone please tell me that the screaming will eventually end?

The girls will be 2 next weekend. I work part time and leave them either with Daddy for one day and a babysitter and grandma on the other.

Last weekend H and I went away for 48 hours. That is how long we were gone. They stayed at home with grandma and reportedly did not ask one time where H and I were. They took naps for grandma and went to sleep no problem. Saturday morning, Z woke up early and G-ma let her come downstairs so that she wouldn’t wake C, but otherwise, routines were maintained.

So why then, did the last four nights of bedtime involve screaming and crying and hyperventilating and gagging, culminating last night in me yelling and drugging them with benadryl at midnight? C would not get into the crib without screaming. They would both cry for about 20 min and then stop, take a presumed nap (I don’t know what they were doing, no video monitor, but they were quiet) only to start up with the hysterics in another 20min. Seriously, this went on in a vicious cycle until 12am.

Mistakes I may have made:
1. We left while they were taking a nap. Poor planning, I know, please don’t lecture me on the importance of saying goodbye. Just tell me they will get over it before college applications come due.
2. H would go back upstairs after they started screaming again. They would sit on his lap, demand songs and calm down until he mentioned going back in the crib. Cue screaming.
3. They watched the Little Mermaid on the advice of G-ma (“It has sea creatures. They love sea creatures”) and are clearly traumatized by King Triton yelling at Ariel and breaking her statue (and yes, they have told me repeatedly that “ariel daddy breaked the spatue! That not nice!”) (also, can you tell that no one ever yells at them. Seriously, this is the part of the movie they have issue with. Not the freakish octopus lady. We love her.)
3. I have one of those twilight turtles that only stay lit for 45 minutes while they are supposedly falling asleep. This has never been a problem before as they are always asleep way before that, but the last few nights they’ve been begging to turn the stars back on.

I am mostly looking for support here and maybe a “been there, done that” Anyone who lectures me on the above mistakes will be hunted down. I am resourceful. And vengeful. Don’t make me feel any worse. Which could possibly be mistake #4 in that my children are horribly spoiled and it’s entirely my (well, and g-ma’s) fault. I think they are honestly afraid and possibly having nightmares, but I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I can do about it other than changing the subject when the freaking little mermaid comes up, and trying to replace it with elmo or curious george or blue clues or something else that has no angst or yelling.

And I’m really freakin’ tired. So if you have no advice, please send caffeine. And also, I may never go away again. So not worth it. Alas, I have a wedding in San Diego in October. May God have mercy on my soul.

Barftastic Addendum

Party #1 has notified me that the birthday girl has the pox. Let's see how well this new fancy varicella vaccine works.

Anyone want to place odds on both my charming darlings being covered by itchy red welts by the time I return from reunion this weekend?

According to G-ma the pox has a 10 incubation period. so that should land squarely on Daddy Day (also known as Wednesday to the uninformed) Won't that be fun for H?

Also, I like to say pox. say it with me "a pox on both your houses" see, it's fun.

Why Do These Things Always Happen to Me?

Subtitled: It's usually your fault

To make everyone laugh, I thought I'd relay a charming event that happened to us yesterday.

We (meaning I, Jeanne, mother and fool) to accept two birthday party invitations on the same day... in New Jersey. And not just New Jersey, but the first one was in Princeton. Where they were conveniently also holding commencement. Which the mother of the birthday girl failed to mention. She also failed to mention that she was serving 17 different types of baked goods.

I had to literally chase Z around the house and down the driveway, many, many times and change C's diaper twice (once after I had gotten her in the carseat) before heading to party number two.

The second party was thankfully on the way back home so we popped curious george in the portable DVD player and headed an hour and a half again (but at least it was north). Both girls sat transfixed by that naughty little monkey for the entire ride. As the credits rolled on georgie, we pulled down to the end of the cul-de-sac and Howie-started to park the car. He looked in his rear-view to check the distance and.....

wait for it......


Z barfed. Chocolate frosting spewed forth like a demonic fondue fountain.

I jumped out of the still moving vehicle and ripped open her door. Before i could get my now barf-soaked hands under the blanket she was holding to unbuckle her, she let loose again. and again. I managed to catch most of it with my hands and her blanket. I pulled her out of the car and quickly stripped her down to her socks and diaper. Then she started to cry.

But not because she had just vomited a willie-wonka-esque fountain. But because it had gotten on her blanket. Her very favorite, carry around the house, can't sleep without it, stick it up her nose whilst sucking her thumb blanket. She's essentially naked and screaming "Clean it off Mommy! Wipe off Blanket!" in my friend's driveway.

Did I mention we are three hours late to party #2 and now all the guests are leaving? Truly priceless.

Thankfully I have no shame and the mother of this birthday boy was my grad school roommate and therefore thought nothing of me tossing a vile vat of vomit into her washing machine. It's happened before. And I mean before kids.

And how was ms. Z after this debacle? She was the life of the party, running, playing and eating pretzels.

All I could think was, "thank god it was only one of them"

smile...

IMG_0437
Originally uploaded by jeannedevine

today I am at work. which means I am able to drink hot beverages and eat a cookie without sharing. I am also doing the following:

• balancing my checkbook
• planning my menu for the week
• organizing my grocery list and coupons
• fixing some stuff on the website for the twin club
• sending out flickr invites for the latest pics of the girls at the march of dimes walk
• fixing the sync between my palm and google calendar so I can know what the hell is going on in my life

Don't worry, I'm also seeing patients, writing charts and letters, following up on outstanding tests and packing my office for the big impending move to hospital office sans windows.

Two things strike me about this list:

1. I am mad productive when not answering questions about Nemo, his Daddy or the Lion King and what has happened to them.
   
2. How the hell do SAHMs get anything done?

I think I would really go nutty if I didn't have a job to come to and get my personal shit done. good thing I'm a multitasker...that is most likely why I had twins in the first place.

tough week

i've been surfing the blogosphere here and I am taking comfort in the fact that it has been an ugly week for a lot of people.

yesterday i took the trash out after dinner and almost kept walking down the block. when I finally got back to the door, Z was standing there looking rather concerned. I opened the door and she said "no working mommy" I think she knew I was thinking about ditching.

Perhaps that due to the fact that I cried while sweeping the floor after dinner. C&Z were eating yogurt pops I made with some leftover (read: almost spoiled) melon from last week. Why did I cry? I could think of no reason that I should not walk promptly into the bathroom and take a handful of something in a prescription bottle. I am pretty sure Sam the Mentally Insane Kitten who Bites People would have been a better parent yesterday.

Whilst I was sweeping and crying, C said "oh mommy! what wrong? why cying?" (there is no 'r' in this word) and Z tried to beep my nose. with her nasty sticky yogurt hands as she refuses to eat the icepop off the stick and requires '"pieces!" (requires being the kind way to word this so as not to expose her dictatorial nature)

I did not run away or kill myself. Or get divorced over frozen strawberries. which is another story entirely. And, I maintain, not my fault. But it was good to read around and see that there must be some astrological explanation for the ungodly horror that has been the world of mommy.

Can I have an "amen"?

TwiCrack

Ok, I know this isn't "real" but good lord, I may never look away from the screen again...


also, send help or a shred of my dignity.

G.L.O.W.

Does this even need subtitles?

Why I Love My Husband

H has been home on 'use it or lose it' vacation time for the past two days.

Loads of laundry completed: 3 (including a load of diapers)
# of times I've seen the washing machine: 0

Meals prepared: 9
# of times I've turned on the stove: 0

Dishwasher loads washed: 2
# of times I've loaded or unloaded the dishwasher: 1

# of times someone woke up crying in the middle of the night: 6
# of times I dealt with it:0

ok, so that last one isn't any different from the norm. but I also haven't scooped a cat box or changed more than 2 or 3 diapers since Tuesday.

I also went to twin club wednesday night, went to a friend's house last night and tonight I have plans to storm Blockbuster at midnight to purchase my very own vampire movie. which I will promptly unwrap and lick.

I heart H. Who the hell else would put up with all this?

TGFSS

Sesame street is a golden beacon of light. if there were no muppets, I would have jumped from a bridge long ago. Right now C&Z are catching up with murray and learning irish step dancing. I am sitting here trying to keep my face from falling off as it tries to explode from horrendous head cold. awesome.

I can only assume that this is also where Z learned to count to 11. Without prompting she has started counting things. After 11, however, things get dicey. usually it goes 18, 19, 13. Apparently 13 is the biggest number she knows. Which reminds me of sorority rush and the number 12.

ugh. have to blow my nose again. I forsee a lot of muppets today...

Hooverville

In case the economic stimulus doesn't go through, we are all sorts of prepared:


This photo is actually taken from my dining room looking INTO the living room as we are also jumping on the "living small" bandwagon.

Guess who enjoyed this the most?Actually I think Sam was the biggest fan, but it was impossible to catch him on film as he was a grey blur whizzing through tents and tunnels with Z in hot pursuit. C was more into twirling around in the little house. But then, she into twirling around where ever.

Kiss 'Em Goodbye

Sam is having his funbags removed.

Let us all pray this makes him calmer.

God forbid he should be less calm. He would vibrate out of existence.

Lots o' Learning

Z&C are big time into numbers and letters. I would take credit for this, but they seem to say most of them in a suspicious Cookie Monster-like voice....

They are both able to point out M, G, T, P, O, A, S and D. Number wise they can spot 1 and 2 reliably, but call out other numbers while we count.

Wednesday night, H asked them how many cookies they wanted after dinner. C said "two" as this is the only number she really knows (2 babies, 2 cookies, 2 cups.... gee I wonder why that is?) Z looked at him very seriously and said "ten". Then she cracked up laughing.

C says "Doe Doe Funny" at least 30 times a day

My mother bought them a nursery rhyme book with pictures over some of the words. C is OBSESSED with Humpty Dumpty. We read it 45 times in a row last night and again this morning. It goes something like this:

J: Humpty... (pointing to picture of egg wearing pants)
C&Z: DUMPY!!!!
J: Sat on a wall (pointing to picture of wall)
C&Z: suck thumbs furiously
J: Humpty... (pointing to picture of stupid egg wearing pants)
C&Z: DUMPY!!!!
J: Had a great fall
C&Z: giggle maniacally
J: All the Kings... (points to picture of disembodied horse heads)
C&Z: PONIES!!!!
J: And all the Kings... (points to picture of tiny tin soldiers)
C&Z: BABIES!!!!
J: Couldn't put...(pointing to picture of damn egg wearing pants)
C&Z: DUMPY!!!!
J: back together again!
C: Dumpy funny mommy. Again. Pease. Again.

Funny things

C now says "Okay Okay OKAY" when she is aggravated about something.

Z is obsessed with all things muppet. when she gets up in the morning, she runs to the box of little people to rescue kermit and piggy/beaker/animal. Always kermit, but his buddy for the day is flexible.

according to C, everyone is funny. but not mommy.

Z is no longer "baby". now she is "Doe-doe"

Last night I had a dream that involved Kermit the Frog, an incredibly stodgy vampire who wore a lot of cologne and an disney-esque amusement park. I think I need to get out more.

Also, could someone please come to my house and explain to my children that they are, in fact, two distinct people and therefore cannot continue to be a vegetarian and a carnivore. Vitamins and protein will not miraculously flow through osmosis when you slap your sister or fall off the couch on top of her.

and finally, I had the distinct pleasure of taking in a poop sample to the vet for Sam the Man. I believe he may be knitting a sweater with his butt. I have a few guesses as to where he may have ingested bright orange yarn... the only question is was he in the crib at the time or was he being fed blankie from one of the inmates?

So much fun...

They can hardly contain their joy.

Terrible One-and-a-halfs?

Is it possible that my precocious little angels have decided to up the ante and enter the "terrible twos" a few months early? This morning as I was trying to leave for work, Z decided that she should wear the string of beads I had on. Woe to you who says NO to Z. She basically yelled "BEADS" for the next 20 or so minutes. So much that C had to get into the act. She didn't even know what she was pissed off about, but it was getting Z attention, so why not.

This continued through the better part of the morning and only paused while Z stuffed eggs in her face and re-started with a vengeance when I dared not share my cereal with her. Never mind that she had already eaten the following:

1 egg w/ spinach
~20 grapes
1/2 banana
1/2 slice of toast w/ cream cheese

Clearly she was starving and needed to eat Kashi G0Lean. For her diet.

And speaking of diets, mine is going crap-tacular. I need to care more about the size of my ass. The other night I was fishing under the radiator for a missing trove of little people when my butt set off the little people farm. More specifically the pig pen. So that it appeared I was oinking. I thought mom and H would fall off the couch laughing.

Send pie. dietetic pie.