Yule Laugh, Yule Cry, Yule Log.

Illness set in just before Christmas. We thought we would get better in time, but I spent most of the preceding days laying on the sofa, watching the Yule Log in HD, and trying to convince the boys that I wasn’t really sleeping, but actively playing with them.

Florida. Oh my God. Florida. I don’t know what else to say, really. Maybe: Christmas in Florida, Oh my God, Christmas in Florida?!

We’ve been sick mostly since the day our ship landed on this God-forsaken swamp. Whether it is some beastly infection, or a never ending coldy-fluish whatsit, we never seem to rid our bodies of it. In fact, we seem to be reluctant recruiters for new victims, as anyone within miles of us has somehow caught the same things.

So, I contemplated the Yule Log in the 80 degree weather.  Liam even spoke to it and laughed at it as though it were a real fire.  “Heyo, Fiere.  Haw awe jyo?”  I was angry, and wondering why anyone here would even bother celebrating Christmas, and then Liam thrust his skull into my stomach while Finn yelled, “kissmiss moogie!” They were demanding the end of the log, and the beginning of a movie about, well, Christmas.

I can’t say our Christmas was anything like any of the Christmases in any of the movies we saw. It was quite plainly an OMG Christmas of horrors. One which Finn was quite eager to have end, and which we were grateful for Finn’s need to end it.

The whole event has made me reconsider the importance of the video taped Yule Log, which I previously found so abysmally distasteful.  I can appreciate it for the comfort that it gave me, as it doesn’t replace the real thing, but allowed me to be angry that it was fake and that we are living in a ridiculous place.  A ridiculous place wherein such things as televised winter scenes and plastic pink birds are not only okay, but kitschy-trendy.  Where people are surprised when their mobile homes become, well, mobile…

Eh.  I’ve had one too many mojito tonight.  I don’t feel like considering anything but a nice coma.  I think I’m just going to eat some pie.

Her royal Pieness

Ah, my Finn needs him a coffees.

I got ambitious and cleaned the floor early this morning. Knowing how much I have loaded on my day-planner, I decided to get a move on. Lovely clean floors, free of dog hair and no longer sticky. Nana called, and well, Finn got wise. When I turned around to see why he was so quiet, I sort of wished I hadn’t.

Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, Finn is well versed in the use of his trademarked “Gecko Grip Feet,” unfortunately, I am not very comfortable with it. His climbing and my not wanting it have become a battle of wills more than a battle of dangerous activities. Today was the very best so far. Not because he was any higher up than he’s been before, but because of the exacting skill the feat required.

The coffee maker is located in what we like to call “Caffeine Central”, a rather old and beaten up cart from college days. This cart happens to be right next to the garbage can (which is waist high to me, and taller than Finn). When I turned around and looked into the kitchen, what I found was a thing to marvel at. Finn was on top of the garbage can, having reached around to the front of the coffee cart and grabbed the coffee pot out of the maker. He was carefully pouring coffee all over my clean floor.

What does Liam do when he sees what’s going on? He yells real loud, “Feeen! Trouble! Geet doooown!” and proceeds to slip in the mess on the floor.

I don’t think there would have been nearly as much crying had they not had double ear infections again. It seems, actually, that the worse Finn feels, the worse things he attempts to do.

The boys followed that one up with escaping my grasp in the parking lot when we were leaving the Pediatrician’s office. Liam ran straight for the road, and Finn ran toward a different road in the opposite direction.

I have no recollection of how either of them ended up back in the car, or with me, or alive. I must have passed out. On second thought, I think I will. Loads of things to do, but none of them seem as nice as a well deserved drink and a really good sleep right now.

Ta,

Gwyndolyn De La Smarme

Maybe Velcro?

Clearly, I am losing the battle.  The “Big Boy Beds” are all the rage, and seem to be quite exciting, as we can now leap in and out with ease, and anything that is bouncier than the floor seems able to pass for a bounce-house.  Maybe it’s time for me to do some inventing…like a Velcro baby/toddler suit, and a corresponding set of sheets, wall-covering, floor-covering, etc. 

Also, I was under the impression that I would need to ween the boys from their “Nacho Libre” habit.  It seems unusual for children so small to be so ecstatically enamoured of such a movie.  On the other hand, it has brought about some of the most hilarious moments of their toddler days.  Case in point, last night, Liam tackled me, proclaiming: “Acoda Sqeeeze!”  That kid can give one Hell of a tight hug when he wants to.  See, and I was worried it would add to the violence they inflict upon one another.  Well, truthfully, when Liam tried the squeeze out on Finn, Finn didn’t so much appreciate it.

Also discovered last night was a new word for Liam: “Disgusting”.  He likes it and everything that it stands for, particularly the spitting out of slugs (which he indeed attempts to replicate) from a scene in the second Harry Potter. 

So, what have I learned about/from (my) babies and toddlers?

• They like TV, and plenty of it
• They are not fans of nap-time
• They generate their own energy
• Cocktails make me a much better mother
• Disgusting things are funny even to a 22-month old boy
• Jack Black is a master thespian

The Punisher

Hahahahahahaha!  I am punishing the beasts for their misbehavior by making them wear Target brand diapers.  MuahahahaAhahahahahahahah!

Who knew that twins under two-years of age could have so much fun together with nothing in the room but themselves?  Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk…it was like listening to talk radio, I tell you.  Only, talk radio that shouts, “Tick”  “Zombie mambo,” “Zombie Zombie”, “Nacho!”  “Hay Potto” (Harry Potter), “‘Mon Finn!”  “3-4-5-6, Gohhhhh!” 

Boy were they busy.  Apparently, naps are no more, and I will be looking at toddler beds tomorrow (that’s a punishment more than a safety precaution, as I want to take away the fun of climbing in and out of, or jumping in the cribs).

Wish me luck, at least I know they don’t like the diapers.  Those boys are piiiicky.  All I heard was, “too tight,” “diapo hewt.” 

The bad side effect of getting rid of everything they liked to use as their personal jungle gym, is that I had no place to hide the baby monitor.  Also, I am really ticked off about the fact that the monitor has to be plugged into an outlet!  Who thinks of these things?!  No battery option?  Where the Hell am I supposed to put that?  They’re just gonna rip it out and play with the outlet/plug if I keep it in there.  So, we are also experimenting with our first night of no monitor.   Kind of a shame, as we had grown accustomed to hearing Liam talk in his sleep.  Very cute.

 

Pru

Adendum

Oh, yeah, I almost forgot to let everyone know (if they hadn’t the pleasure of figuring it out already), that diapers are filled with “stuff”.  No, I’m not speaking of the stuff created by the creatures who wear them, I mean the stuff inside the lining that holds the liquid in.  Yeah, that was all over the floor too.  Who rips open a diaper (other than my dog)?  What baby would think to do such a thing?  Mine, apparently.  In fact, they ripped apart the entire room, and evidently forgot to tear down the curtains.  I have no idea how or why those were still hanging.

So, today, I spent the better part of the morning removing everything from the nursery.  Everything but the cribs, which will also soon be gone.  Nap time is also gone, as they tell me.  I was lucky to get it when they agreed to it, but now they have better things to do and lots of them–like destroy our DVD collection. 

Hmmm…is there such a thing as obedience trainers for kids?  How can I get in touch with one?

V. tired (so tired, I just realized that while I put the outside Christmas lights up, I neglected to remove the Skelly mat in front of the door.  Now, I am considering keeping it there.  It seems oddly appropriate for me.)

Pru

It’s like living with poltergeists!

I was determined, when I woke this morning,  to be the kind of mother that my friends are.  The kind I want so badly to emulate, because I am a perpetual child and have little experience in the adult world.  Needless to say, my morning did not allow for dictatorship, except by rabid, beastly boys. 

The day began when I woke late.  An hour late.  But the boys were still asleep, or there was at least no sound that I could hear on the monitor, so I rushed to get my routine accomplished.  Two-thirds of the way through my shower, I could hear Will (who I thought had already left) go into the boy’s room and begin yelling at them for tearing it apart.  Then, crying.  Lots of shame-filled crying.  When I got out of the shower, I heard it again…the yelling, only I also heard the static fuzz of a receiver that has lost contact with the monitor.  Curious.  There was definitely yelling going on…definitely crying…  So, I rushed into the room and found only half of what I had expected to see.  Will was indeed long-gone.  The boys were running around trying to free one another from diaper and PJ tyranny, and the monitor was indeed unplugged.  So, that was extra creepy.  Some phantom is yelling at my children, or I am picking up another parent’s terrible-two twin-rage.

So, it appears that the boys are advanced in everything, including the onset of the terrible twos.  I thought (foolishly), that I had loads of time to prepare and purchase the door-knob-turning-preventer-thingies etc.  No.   Not only did I have no time, I have also come to grips with the realization that they don’t work.  They are not universal, and my home is apparently outside of whatever universe they work in (read: twighlight zone). 

So, I spent the morning rushing to make certain that I was printing out and sending a softcopy of the correct version of my final paper.  I set the boys in front of their favorite past-time, the TV, and after they screamed for Harry Potter until my ears were bleeding, I popped it in.  They popped themselves on the chair, sat calmly and still for all of 15-20 minutes!  (I know, a veritable miracle!)  When I finally turned around, I noticed that the guest bed had been completely stripped, and not a book remained within their reach upon my bookshelves.  The bedside table had no lamp, and the lamp (now under the bed) had no bulb or shade.  I rescued the shade from certain destruction just in time to get back to my chair and find that all of the books and papers were being thrown from my desk.  On his way to my keyboard to do some softcopy damage rearranging, Finn decided to take out the mouse.

My main intent was getting to campus and turning in my paper.  We did that.  When I got home, I had an email telling me that a softcopy was all he wanted… AHAHAHAHAHAH!  I won’t go back to my rage about doors and elevators and people.  I won’t do it.  This one is much fresher, much better.

After a lunch that they were nearly falling asleep in (boy was I excited for the “big nap” I prognosticated because of that!) I attempted to help them sleep by spreading a comforter, lots of blankets and pillows, and taping up all of the doors they keep opening (because I live outside, far outside, of whatever universe all of the safety locks are made for).  In five minutes they recovered their energy…pooled what they had individually, and blasted through the room like never before. 

The lamp was hanging by its cord off the front of the dresser, which both boys were on top of, the chair was again inside the closet, the shelves in the closet had been dismantled and broken (possibly from when I caught them in there sitting on them a few minutes prior), and everything was out in plain sight, and with sprinklings of powder to freshen them up!

This is how aneurysms occur.

I’ve given up all hope of organization, nap-time, or order.  Does anyone know a good cage-builder?

Pru

D-Oh!

Aimee visited us!!! Wheee! We showed her. Now she’ll never want children More than that, she agreed with my interest in finding an answer to the question that I posed. Which is this: If there are so very many attempts at covering up murders as suicides, are there ever any suicides that attempt to make themselves appear as murders? Well, that makes it sound as though the act of suicide is cognizant, which would just be creepy, but you know what I am getting at. So, I’ve tried a Google, and failed at it. What I got was exactly the same stuff that I usually get, and because I am wine laden as of now (just finished my paper and am considering sending it in my current state of “saucedness”)…what, where was I? That’s right, google tangents. I will resist them tonight, and not follow the traps which the depraved have set before Pru. No, I will plant my feet, and as none of the links appear to answer my question, I am satisfied with thinking that I am clever, cleaver? What do I care? The boys have destroyed my home in just shy of an afternoon today. Here, I’ll show you…

HELP!!!

How long can twins keep each other up before they pass out?  I have lost control, and their nursery is now a war-zone, which I am terrified to enter…  Finn is out of his crib, probably in and out of Liam’s…I can hear screaming occasionally, banging, laughing, jumping…  HELP!  I can no longer reign the Finn in, and he is running all over and around me and my idea of scheduling.  I took them to the Little Gym today, figuring that it would wear them out completely, and maybe keep Finn in his crib.  But that would be logical, and my children don’t work off of my sense of logic, or any other parent’s for that matter.  What in the name of all that is holy is there left for me to do?  I even thought I heard their door open, but as long as mine stays closed, I think I am safe.  Won’t they eventually fall asleep?  It’s been an hour!

Sanity has left the pickle,

Pru