Voulez-vous Coucher Avec Moi (Ce Soir)

I'm not good at a lot of things as a mom - my kids tend to run around like Helen Keller during meals, brushing their teeth is a really good thought but typically they just end up eating a lot of toothpaste, and I just gave Tula a stack of licorice so she'd let me type for a minute.  I love bribery!

But I am really good at getting my kids to sleep, and on a sleep schedule.  I'm militant about it.  Like, probably to an obsessive level, but my sanity relies on it people!  All four of them nap at the same time because Mama needs to have at least an hour of alone time during the day or I'll go crazy.  The days things go awry and naps get messed up are incredibly obvious due to the crying and screaming (mine), the mess (the girls), and the general please-save-me vibe I'm shooting from my eyeballs to Josh when he walks in the door all "I just spent a day talking to adults and using my brain for smart things, I even laughed today and went to the gym and had a coffee break, and not once did someone throw up on me or wipe their boogers on me, la-di-dah!"

A friend of mine recently asked me what happens if they aren't ready to nap at the same time, and I was all, "Huh?  Ready? My kids don't get a say regarding sleep. This isn't a democracy, this is a kingdom of sleep and I am the ruler and that is final.  NOW GO TO SLEEP."

Part of getting their sleep on requires me ignoring every maternal pull in my heart and soul to put the kids into bed with me, like ever.  I have never let them sleep with us, because I know that is a slippery slope to trouble land and I am a giant pushover when it comes to my babies wanting love.  So, they don't even know it's a possibility in the universe that people are allowed to sleep with their parents.  I actually once told Addie it was against the law.  She was 7 months old so she didn't really get it, but still, I put my foot down.

Sometimes at night, when they're all asleep and I love them again after a day of raging lunatics, I'll lean over to Josh and say, "Don't you wanna just go wake them up and bring them into bed with us?"  And his response usually involves the f-word, which is really the only time he uses it. (He hates bad language whereas I find it satisfying, cheerful even.  Often my friend and I start letters to each other, "Dear C*nt Face..." because that was once graffiti-ed on my apartment elevator and it cracked us up.  Why the formality with the c-word?  That dude was properly ticked off.)

And I am always grateful he keeps me on track and doesn't let me put them into bed with us.  Even though at that moment it's all I want in life.

So, that is all to say that this morning I let Henry sleep with me.  But it was from 5am to 6am so it doesn't count.  And oh my God, I LOVED IT SO MUCH!  Baby smell, baby breathing, baby only being able to fall asleep if his face is smashed up against yours - Yes, yes, yes and yes.

You can't tell from this picture but he was really heavy on my face.  And I didn't even care, because ohmygoshhessofluffyI'mgonnadie!

I'm still not going to change my policy.  The bed is the last of the sacred places the kids haven't ruined.  (That's not true, they eat Cheetos in there and watch TV, and often I'll wake up to find a Barbie stuck on my leg) But at night it's still just ours.  It's like a lone island in a sea of child-lava. 

You can take my bathroom but you'll never take my FREEDOM!*  

Luke racking up the cute points.  Like he needs any more!

Not nursing.  Trying to vie for cutest instead.  

The cutest is the one who doesn't leave me engorged boys!  EAT NOW.

Has there ever been anyone more excited to be at the park?   She kills me.

Little monkeys!  

Parks are the best.

*Said no mom ever.  Because it's a lie.  Freedom goes out the window the second that baby is out of your body.  Kiss yourself goodbye and wish her a happy 18 years in whatever alternate universe she's living it, it's their world now.  Good thing they're so worth it.

TWO YEARS

This little beautiful fireball is two years old today!

Ugh!  I just love her so much.  In some ways its shocking she's already two, but in even more ways it's like - how has it only been two years?!  It feels like we've had her forever.  She is so full and bright and gigantic and hilarious and strong in her personality, she is a force to be reckoned with in the best possible way.  She brings laughter when we need it, and love and sometimes slight terror (girlfriend can chuck a can of soup like a professional).

Happy, happy, happy birthday Tutti!

Also, in prep for the birthday today all the kids were in the best moods yesterday:

Lately Henry is too in love to nurse.  He'll eat for a few minutes, realize I'm up there and then gaze at me lovingly until I look back at him and reassure him I am equally in love.

Luke is too busy laughing and telling jokes to nurse.  These boys have the best personalities ever!  They are truly delightful.  And I never thought I'd say that about babies, but it's true.  Even when they pee on me it's cute.

Addie is too busy having a dance party to go to bed.

She's also been in that outfit for three days.  

Tula is too goosey to eat breakfast.  Her new favorite joke is to try to eat with her nostril.  It doesn't work, but it's hysterical every time.

Molly's Granddaughter Through And Through

Having four tiny kids gives me a lot of free time to daydream maniacally.  Not like fun daydreaming that leads to creativity and epiphanies and the final completion of my Oscar acceptance speech (you're in there Mr. Cannon), there's no time for that; but crazed-lunatic-Jewish-grandmother type daydreaming.  I'll be nursing the boys on the couch and hear a loud thump followed by no sound and suddenly I've pictured Tula falling off the roof, landing on the back porch onto a kitten, then all my loved ones dying in a fiery car crash, and all of a sudden I'm crying and calling out for Tula to answer me damnit! meanwhile she's sitting right next to me watching The Gruffalo and now I'm pretty sure we have ghosts.

So, now when Josh gets home from work and I've had a fun afternoon of doing a million tasks I've done a million times so my brain has checked out into Ridiculous Territory, he'll walk in and I'll likely scream something like, "I'M NERVOUS ABOUT THE FUTURE!" and then start crying while I take a swing from coffee I'm hoping is only leftover from the morning and not some other morning.

So, yeah, I'm in a bit of a crisis about my future. My future in five years. Specifically my career.  In five years all my kids are going to be in school, and I am in pure panic about what I'm going to be doing with my life then.  I know it seems ridiculous, that five years is a long time, but it's not.  Five years is gonna go by fast. you know how I know? Because TEN years ago I was twenty-five and I thought I might want to be a doctor.  I started taking science classes (and acing them out of the mother f*&king park thank you very much).  But instead of doing that my heart and my vagina got together and decided I should devote myself to some really bad relationships instead.

WAY TO GO TEAM.

Major fail. And I know they say men are usually the ones who think with their penises, but I have definitely made some horrible decisions because someone was a really good maker outer.  And to me, really good making out usually leads to me falling in love (I'm super easy) so thus the outcome of my heart and my vadge doing stupid things together like a weird Thelma and Louise. (My vagina is Louise, obviously)

(Luckily, sometimes when the team gets together they make good decisions, aka Josh.)

So, anyway, this time there is no danger of me falling in love with the wrong guy and ditching all life plans to be in love with him, which, as it turns out, is not actually a full time job, despite what rom-coms may make you believe.  I am a smart girl, like I previously stated, I at one time could name all the periodic table of elements in order and what they did, I know not to take rides from strangers, I'm pretty good at crossword puzzles, and I've read most of Anna Karenina, but when I was in my twenties and falling in love I literally lost all brain cells.  *sigh* So, cliche.

Aaaaaaannnnnyyyyyywwwwwaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy.

Like I was saying, there's no chance I'm suddenly going to be twenty again (thank God), and now the reality of 2020 coming at me like a fireball is starting to sink in and I need to figure it out.  You may not worry yourself to the point of sheer panic about what sort of career you'll want in five years, but then again you may not have my Bauba's blood - Queen Worrier (and simultaneously the person with the best sense of humor I've ever met).  Have you ever had a Jewish grandma?  The stereotypes are true people.  All she wanted to do was feed us, worry about us, and kiss us so hard she was just shy of leaving hickeys.

I have no ending to the post because I'm still worried.  If anyone has any strong thoughts on my future I'm willing to take suggestions.

I just asked Addie what she thought I should do for work and she said, "Make money." And then when I pressed for a little more she said, "Be Maleficent.  The good Maleficent with lipstick, not the mean one from the drawing movie."  So, according to her I should make money and be the Angelina Jolie Maleficent.

We're off to a good start.

It's like they're twins or something.

Twins who really like to help with chores.

Good moms put down the phone and catch their daughter falling off the table.

Great moms take a picture first.

Addie is getting really good at putting on lipstick.

Tula has stopped sleeping with her heels on, but now she wants shorts.  For the breeze.

The boys just discovered looking at each other.  They are so amused with each other its amazing!