expert advice

so, i get these weekly updates on the development of my children, well any children their age, from people whom i assume know what they're talking about. they are "experts." they allegedly have done some reading, some research. they have family members who are doctors. they were kids once. i don't know. i don't really know who they are exactly. i just know "they" send me weekly updates. usually they are right on with R's and C's development and whatnot. it's pretty amazing. it's like they know exactly what is happening with them. wait, maybe they are stalking us. i knew we should have made our blog private from the beginning. if i find out they reside in indonesia, case closed (someone in indonesia was checking our blog. i don't know anyone in indonesia, do you? do i even know where indonesia is?). but...i...digress...here's what made me question their judgement recently. and i am quoting here:

"Give her an open sippy cup and watch how she tries to screw the lid on, then off again."

seriously. do you need to read it again?

"Give her an open sippy cup and watch how she tries to screw the lid on, then off again."

the "experts" are suggesting that you should TEACH your kids how to unscrew a sippy cup lid? forget having kids. have they ever even SEEN a kid before? this rules out the stalking. they've clearly never seen C and R. who needs to teach them how to take the top off of a sippy? i'm sure my days are numbered anyway. R is the girl who crammed her tiny little hand and tiny little wrist through a cabinet door (that was "babyproofed" thank you very much. actually these bastards are probably the ones who TOLD me how to babyproof the cabinet, come to think of it) carefully removed a glass top from a container and threw it on the floor. i was, of course, preparing her dinner at the time. preparation goes something like this: chop. chop. chop. chop. chop. dice. dice. chop. chop. chop. chop. dice. dice. dice. dice. it was a bit of a fiasco. i would say debacle but i reserve that word for only the most serious of fiascos. the glass shattered and the situation was only made worse by the introduction of the dustbuster to remove tiny glass particles from the floor. and those babies flew (glass particles, not the actual babies. believe me, flying babies would be it's own post). C is the boy who at 8 months or so, just getting the crawling thing down, hoisted his bad little self up 9 steps. um, i was just coming to grips with the crawling. now there is actual climbing? i couldn't scream for fear of scaring him into backwards motion. he survived. i survived. no dustbuster necessary. gates up the next day.

here is the point of all this: i'm fairly certain i don't have to TEACH my crafty little smarties how to do ANYTHING i don't want them to do. that's what my spouse is for (love you, sweetie). he *may* have taught them how to move their lips with their fingers to sound like porky pig and how fun it is to sit on top of high objects. neither of which is in any way close to the damage from unscrewing the lid to a sippy cup. they already chuck their sippies overboard as it is. let's just add fuel to the fire with unscrewing the top of the sippy prior to said chucking. awesome.

new vice

i think it's time for a new vice, don't you?
pre-babies i had vices such as too-high-heeled shoes, clothes, caffeine, alcohol, purses, etc. clearly these vices are not appropriate for my new improved everyday life. i am especially mourning the demise of the high heels. i just cannot bring myself to purchase a new pair of high-heeled shoes because when i figure out the CPW (cost per wear) it is way too ridiculous. for example, i found this beautiful pair of shoes recently for $90. these shoes are magnificent. they are trendy. they have a 3.5 inch heel. when exactly will i wear them again? let's say i wear them once every three months (even if i put them on during the kids' naps and sit at the computer wearing them), these shoes only have a shelf-life of two years max due to trendinessability (just made that up). so, let's see...worn once in three months for two years (my SAT and GRE are flashing before my eyes and it's not pretty). i think that is four times a year for two years. i feel woozy. that totals eight times. i would wear these shoes eight times. so, now the big, complicated math: at $90 (without tax), the CPW on these babies would be (using the calculator for this one) $11.25. that's shelling out $11.25 each time i put them on my feet. that's a lot. too much. i mean they are fabulous but are they $11.25 PER wear fabulous? when you consider that to be doing something i will already be paying someone else $15 per hour to babysit...this is beyond nonsensical (real word). to really drive the point home i could have added babysitting fees to the CPW but then i will seriously never leave the house again. cute shoes or not. here are the lovelies...

i mean, are they not beautiful?

so, shoes as a vice are currently out. alcohol and caffeine are still used in moderation but if it is moderation, it's not a bona fide vice. you could apply the same CPW logic from above to clothing and purses too... wait a minute. purses? what's a mommy version of a purse, you ask? holy diaper bag. i can have diaper bags as a vice. the justifications for this vice are endless.

it's practical.

it's for the babies. they need it.

i don't even want one but C has asked for it several times and it just pains me to break his little heart.

my old one was too big.

my old one was too small.

we've moved from bottles to sippies. need more room.

their diapers are bigger now. (p.s. need i remind you i am carrying diapers for two?)

speaking of two. can i play the "twins" card for this one? absolutely. i should just be able to say i DID contiguously carry and bring into this world TWO babies. what's a new bag?

i have to carry snacks at all times. need better organization.

i can't keep up with them hauling around some giant bag i, myself, can fit into. need smaller bag.

i have to hide my cell phone and keys from them. need more pockets.

(side note: no one really uses that little clippy hook thing for their keys do they?)

cheeriotastrophe (yep, made up). mess cannot be cleaned.

i just need something for quick trips (as if), i need to downsize. need smaller bag.

see? endless justifications.

challenge me. i can come up with more.

so maybe i have gone through four total diaper bags to date. i'm not touching the CPU (cost per use) on this one. leave me alone. i have even purchased bags that go inside the diaper bag for better organization. i've got issues, i mean i've got a vice. i love a good vice! nonetheless, here is a picture of my brand new beautiful diaper bag that i love. is it a coincidence that the bag matches the shoes? i think not.

if bret michaels was a one-year-old

my kids' only existing girl friends came over to play. they are adorable. they are delightful. but during this delightful play, a snippet of my future life flashed before me. C was enjoying his time in the ball pit with these two beautiful female creatures...a little too much maybe. we decided that the ball pit, at that moment, was C's version of a hot tub. it's like he was bret michaels except everyone had their clothes on and there was no alcohol. we are talking a bad baby reality television show waiting to happen. [editorial note: the lovely ladies who occupied the ball pit are in no way the kind of girls (and i use that term lightly) who end up on rock of love. much too classy.] i wish you could have seen the pure joy on this kid's face. the ball pit as hot tub theory was further proven when a foreign object (a bow) was later found in the ball pit and no one could identify it as their own. someone's lost swimsuit in the hot tub? i mean, someone's lost bow in the ball pit? it's the same thing. when said bow was discovered, C knew he was busted...has he been having ball pit parties late at night without our knowledge? until C talks, we will never know to whom that little red bow belongs. and he's pretty tight-lipped. on another note: i'm pretty sure C will not be like bret michaels. ever. although he does love his guitar lately. bret michaels is the kind of guy who wears t-shirts with a picture of himself on it. C would never do that.

same thing


that's bret michaels wearing, yes, a bret michaels t-shirt. cool.

time-out

time-out is all the rage. no one spanks. no one yells. you're bootie goes to time-out. it kind of reminds me of the old days before my time when you heard of kids getting put in the corner with a dunce cap. that sounds mean. but time-out is somehow seen as an "educational technique." i tried it once with R when she went for the dog's bowl for the 536th time (i counted...number 536 was the last straw). she got sent to her room at an early age. she did the scarlett o'hara throw her face dramatically to the floor. and peeked and paused briefly to see if i was still there. fit resumed. door closed. fit continued. door opened after 4 seconds (literally). fit continued because scarlett didn't notice the prison bars had been lifted. i don't think she fully got what "time-out" is. but it's ok. gus's bowls were safe for 4 seconds and that's what matters.
here's what no one speaks of...listen carefully. i mean, read carefully...
time-out is fab.u.lous.
i know. i put myself there last week.
it had been a rough day. with the tempestuous runny noses (see previous post). i needed peace. i needed quiet. i needed a time-out. so i announced to my spouse that i was in time-out. in my time-out i sat in front of the computer with a glass of wine. i've heard that's not generally recommended as part of the "educational technique" but it did teach me something. time-out's the way to go. i believe time-outs are supposed to be brief but i milked mine. i loved it. i even would have worn a dunce cap.

i hope this photo is from 1840, because public humiliation is so two centuries ago.

the real gray's anatomy

i know babies get lots of attention. from lots of people. but as a mother of twins, let me tell you about the attention twins get you. i won't say that my babies are the most beautiful babies ever in the history of babies (even if i think that is true, i won't say it). people are fascinated by two babies coexisting together. anywhere. in the stroller, in high chairs, in the womb, etc. so i get a lot of attention. um, i mean the babies get a lot of attention. i'm like a personal assistant to little mini celebrities. and here i am using my 15 minutes of fame. they don't talk to their public. i am their voice. they do try to take their own calls but i handle most of those too. so most everyone in the universe has some connection to twins somewhere. and most everyone in the universe tells me about said twin connection. "i am a twin" oh cool. tell me about it. how's that working out for you? my sister's college roommate was a twin. oh cool. keep moving. my neighbor's aunt helen knew some twins who lived three towns over from her. charming. the *quick* stories are mostly fine. people are nice. they care. they're interested. some people do come up with some ridiculous one liners that annoy me. if i hear "double trouble" one more freaking time i'm going to give someone an example of what "trouble" really could mean for them. i guess it's fine when the babies are like three months old and the people might as well be saying "two nightmares" because they don't care. but what kind of an impact can this have on kids who are 3 or 4 or 8 or 15 and hear it over and over and over? you psychies can tell me all about that, i'm sure. i'm just saying. it could have an impact. the "double trouble" is actually nicer than what some people say like, for example "better you than me." um, you couldn't be more right. better for you, better for me, better for my children, better for your children, if you have any, and better for society as a whole, i think. so i also get lots of questions. some inappropriate like, "so, like was it IVF?" well no, it wasn't. and if you knew that people who had IVF likely had to move Heaven and earth to get a baby, you might not flippantly ask that question to a complete stranger, dumbass. ok, i've never called someone a dumbass to their face but that made me sound like a badass, didn't it? lots of people ask how old, boy or girl (consequently i do not mind whatsoever if people get gender-confusion when looking at my children...i am not a girl in pink/boy in blue at all times type of person which, this throws people off. they want their pink and blue. anyway, the whole androgenous thing is very hip. it's calvin klein's fortune), identical or fraternal, etc. i get the how old, i get the boy or girl, i even get the identical or fraternal. i do not, however, get the idenical or fraternal FOLLOWED by boy or girl. i personally believe, and i don't think i am alone here, that once your first question of boy or girl is answered, there should be no further question of identical or fraternal. this is obvious, right? i hope it's obvious because my politeness ends when i get this. i just can't enable the stupidity. it's like talking to kendra from the girls next door. when these questions first started i was polite and just said "fraternal." then my politeness started to waver and i would be more explanatory, "well one's a BOY and one's a GIRL so they're FRATERNAL." this would sometime evoke a chuckle once they realized the obviousness of this statement but there are still some head scratchers after this. by now i can't take it anymore. thank you for taking an interest in my kids but if you ask me that idiotic follow-up question these days, this is what you get. "well since one's a boy and has a penis and one's a girl and has a vagina, they're fraternal, not identical." get it? ONE penis. ONE vagina. NOT identical. i base the volume of my response on the level of annoyment (just made that up) i am feeling at that moment.

developmental milestones

i have (i mean, WE have) reached a new developmental milestone and i could not be more excited! i realize developmental milestones generally refer to infants, not their mothers but this is as much my milestone as theirs. i can return to wearing hoop earrings! that's right! holding the heads up, that was great. rolling over, very important. walking, who doesn't think that is essential? mommy getting to put the studs away, we're talking bigtime. now the hoops are a little shiny if the light hits them just right and i don't want to jinx myself and say we are totally in the clear for some hoops grabbing but we have made major progress. i guess they're too busy for the moment "brushing" my teeth or jabbing my eyes. C can say "eyes" so he gets away with it and R pretended to brush her teeth with a bottle brush so i think she is a genius. in related news: i can now wear my hair down in their presence. no more pulling. hoops AND hair down?! who do i think i am?

when did i become tim gunn?

you know tim gunn. please tell me you know tim gunn from project runway. i love this show. it's one of my DVR regulars that i actually make the time to watch. "celebrity rehab"... maybe not making the cut, but project runway gets watched usually within 72 hours of the original broadcast date. so, tim gunn...he is the "mentor figure" to the competing designers and comes up with some true nuggets of counsel. all of a sudden i am tim gunn and my children are competing designers. my two favorite tim gunn ripoffs are "make it work" which usually gets stated when i witness frustration in progress or impending frustration, frequently regarding a toy or other inanimate object that is not responding quite the way R and C would like. "make it work" is useful and versatile. sometimes for added flair i use the full "make it work, people" so C and R know i am not talking to the dog. the other quote i use is when i begin a sentence with "i'm concerned..." like the designers' fates on project runway when these two words begin a sentence, whatever follows can never be good. for example, tim would say "i'm concerned about a couture post-office uniform." that means "your idea for a couture post-office uniform is abominable." i would say "i'm concerned about the placement of your mouth ON the garbage can." that means "get your mouth off the garbage can." i'll close with my most recent fav tim gunn quote, "it looks like a coffee filter or a maxi pad.'' hope i never have a use for that one.

i mean, doesn't he look concerned?

burning down the house

do you know what it's like to walk in to your kitchen, hungry, at 2:30 pm when your kids are babbling after their too short nap and find a cold, yet cooked bean burrito waiting for you in your toaster oven? i do. this is why God put timers on toaster ovens. so i would not burn my house down while my children were sleeping. the burrito was delicious. had i eaten it when it was warm, i might not have cared so much about giving up my spinach pizza (see previous post).

not just a runny nose

did you know that runny noses were the causes of such calamities as the depletion of the ozone layer, sinking of the titanic, and the cancellation of "my so called life" and "felicity" (why, WHY!?)? it is easy for me to understand, now seeing how runny noses affect our home environment.
it. is. ugly.
and i'm not just talking about watery snot gushing out of my beautiful babies' noses all day, constantly. and when i say noses, i mean their whole entire faces from the eyeballs down, continuing onto their necks and chests. their moods are ugly too. nothing can keep them happy. even food, which is usually a crowd pleaser. i tried pacifiers, i tried toys, i tried new books, i tried a stranger (only happy 30 minutes of their day today), i tried a video, i tried a snack (worked for 30 seconds until it was gone), i even sacrificed the dog for their enjoyment (only bought me 8 seconds). did i mention that food didn't even work? i gave up my delicious organic spinach pizza leftovers for their nourishment and they still complained through lunch. why do they hate me? why won't they nap for more than 90 minutes?

because hush little baby doesn't always cut it

i thought i would kick-off my mommy blogging detailing some of C and R's most favorite little ditties sung in our house.
sing along. you know you want to.

1. "baby with a bottle" in honor of christina aguilera's "genie in a bottle"
(i'm a baby with a bottle, gotta feed me the right way)

2. "now throw your bootie in the air and wave it like you just don't care" in honor of the sugar hill gang's "rapper's delight"
(a favorite during diaper changes)

3. "can't take my eyes off of you" in honor of lauryn hill's "can't take my eyes off of you." i know there were originals before her but i sound the most like her. that's what i've been told. by babies.
(i love you baby, and if it's quite alright i need you baby, to sleep all through the night)

4. "baby got back" in honor of sir mix-a-lot's "baby got back"
(i like big babies and i cannot lie, you other babies can't deny...)

5. "eat it" in honor (and i use this word lightly) of weird al yankovic's "eat it"
(just eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it, mommy won't be defeated)

6. "reese, reese baby" in honor (again, lightly) of vanilla ice's "ice, ice baby"
(alright stop, collaborate and listen, reese is back and she's on a mission...will she ever poop? yo. i don't know)

7. "my cole" in honor of the temptations "my girl"
here's a clue. all the words are the same except substitute "cole" for "girl." aw.

8. "my therese amour" in honor of stevie wonder's "my cherie amour"
same...how i'm glad that you are mine. aw.

9. "everybody poops" in honor of rem's "everybody hurts"
lot's of options with this one...plug in your favorite.
(everybody pees...sometimes, everybody eats...sometimes, everybody falls...sometimes, everybody cries...sometimes, everybody gets knocked in the head with a toy cell phone... sometimes, etc.)

10. "rebel rebel" in honor of david bowie's "rebel rebel"
really i just sing one line, when appropriate:
(rebel rebel your face is a mess)

11. and this one i'm not proud of
"don't cha" by the pussycat dolls
(don't cha wish your baby was cute like reese, don't cha wish your baby was smart like reese, don't cha)

12. "de do do do, de da da da" in honor of the police song of that very name.
(de do do do, de da da da is all i want to say to you.)
i like this one because i get to sing back to my kids what my kids are actually saying to me.

oh my gosh, i forgot one:
13. "i'll tumble 4 ya" (yes, that's how it is phrased/spelled. i looked it up. it was the 80's people) by culture club.
they just get the chorus on this one, which i know you know so i won't repeat it. we sing it to take the sting off of the tumbles that occur. a lot.

not to worry. we still maintain all the classic standards including:
jump, shake your bootie, jump, jump, shake your bootie
shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake your bootie
and
"talking about a revolution" by traci chapman, for which i do not alter the words because, let's face it, they're important.
(this is their favorite song of all time. they love it. especially the "whisper" part).