Saturday, August 29, 2009


There's nothing like realizing you're the minority to 2 tiny people that can't feed themselves, still wear diapers and think riding the cat like a horse is the funnest thing in the world (I guess I should say trying to ride the cat, since all the child does is sit on the cat's back until she squeaks like a dog toy). Anyways, yesterday I was sitting around thinking of what it's going to be like when my kids are older. There was that usual sadness of realizing your babies are going to grow up and not need you anymore, followed by intense fear of what will happen when they realize that I'm not supermommy with unquestionable room-banishing power. I had images of myself being hogtied with duct tape and thrown in the closet as the kids go willy nilly and put their shoes on the couch, eat food in the living room and spill sodas on the carpet. It was frightening, I tell you!

Luckily, I quickly came back to reality and breathed a sigh of relief that I still have a few more years until they stand a chance at a mutiny. That sigh of relief was quickly drowned out by E's cries, followed by A's mocking cries. I should have realized that though I was outnumbered by babies 1/10th my size, they were still much more powerful than I.  When they decide to band together against me, I barely make it through alive.   In these situations I have to tend to little 8 week old E first, while A stands at the gate screaming his giant bald head off. So even though I get the baby calmed down, my toddler is loudly working toward my demise. My guess is his master plan involves supersonic whining piercing my eardrums and vibrating my brain into an oatmeal-like mush that will slowly ooze out my ears. He's getting pretty darn close to accomplishing that, let me tell you.

Everything always seems to need attention at once, too. When one needs a diaper change, the other immediately poops as if they have some sort of infrared communication system in their butts.  Then, when both children are waiting to be changed, the dinner timer will go off, followed by my cell phone, the intercom buzzer and probably some smoke signals off in the distance.  And once you get that baby changed, never underestimate the quickness with which they will poop in that fresh diaper.  Nothing makes a baby poop faster than a fresh diaper (or hearing you say the words "oh no, we're out of diapers").

Now that I've figured out how dangerous this is, me being outnumbered by tiny little dimple-faced demons, I need to figure out how to rule them.  Something tells me that many years from now I am going to die still trying.


The quickest way for a parent to get a child's attention is to sit down and look comfortable. ~Lane Olinghouse

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