Entry 17 ~ May 12, 2010
The Terrible Two's Times Two
Let's play the game "Clue." I'll give you the answer, and you envision the situation. Reagan, in the living room, with a salt shaker. Reese, in the kitchen, with a bag of rice. Me, hiding in the bathroom with a shot glass.
Last week I had the most incredible experience with my twins and the "terrible two's." It was my first realization that there really is such a thing. The afternoon began uneventfully, aside from the twins' refusal to nap. They opted to spend their time playing in the crib. Later in the day, in the midst of laundry, dinner prep, feeding Treyton and such, I discovered that *someone* deposited a solid poop on the end table. Ewwww! After cleaning it up, I ran (yes, literally) down to the basement to switch the laundry from the washer to the dryer. When I ran back upstairs, I discovered Reese with a bag of brown rice that I was intending to cook. The bag was nearly empty and there was rice all over the floor. I think this is when I started to come undone. Shortly afterward, I found Reagan with a salt shaker in the living room, salting everything. In spite of my obvious displeasure, the twins didn't seem satisfied that they'd broken me down. The day wore on.
I managed to intercept Reese with a package of sidewalk chalk, but she must have stashed a stick of it somewhere. She wrote all over the floor of her room and all over the crib. Then I caught both girls taking swigs of milk from their sippy cups and spitting it at each other while they used the crib as a trampoline. Milk every where.
I really, really hope my neighbor to the west, an older widower, is hard of hearing, with all the noise I made.
That night after everyone was in bed, and the house was quiet, I had time to reflect on the afternoon. As the crink in my back throbbed, my head ached and I sniveled to my husband, I had the overwhelming realization that one day I would miss these days. Really, I will.
Looking at the weeks ahead, Kassie's junior prom rapidly approaches. Kristin's freshman year of college is coming to a close. The baby has rapidly learned resiliency, as he waits his turn to be picked up, fed or whatever. I am pleased to report, that, at three months old, he is sleeping through the night. Life is good.
And for all you moms, stepmoms, grandmothers, and like-a-moms out there, I hope you enjoyed Mother's Day.