So Cute, Yet So Crazy

You know how in scary movies, if there's like an evil monster thing in disguise, he walks around all la-di-da, I'm charming and cute, and then suddenly a switch flips and he's all BLARGH I'M GONNA KILL NOW!

Well, that is what living with 19 month old twin boys is like.

I hate to be sexist, and I secretly hope one or both of my boys turns out super effeminate, and I used to think when people said "having boys is so much different than girls" it was because of them. They were the ones inflicting their opinions on what having boys and girls was like.

But, I was wrong. I apologize to everyone ever.

Amen.

No matter how much I offer girly toys to the boys all they want are shovels, trucks, and stuff to hit stuff with. The other day I found Henry chasing Tula with a metal mallet that probably weighed as much as he does, giggling his head off. And just as I was typing this Henry reached up to the counter, pulled out the coffee pot, poured about 8 cups of coffee onto the floor and then Luke tap danced in it.

Despite this behavior, these little monster boys are so wonderful and charming and cute right now. They literally melt my heart every day.

Shut the front door, I love you so much.

They're plotting their escape on our hike. 

Uh, I can see you guys, and you don't speak English yet so this weird babbling and vague pointing isn't fooling anyone. Also, you run about as fast as a flat soccer ball. I'm gonna catch you.

Luke's got his Frozen backpack on for his big journey. Also, he thinks my stomach is hysterical. We all do, Luke. We all do.

However, these adorable little bundles of boy can turn into rage-y, murderous, lunatics in the matter of seconds. This morning I was hanging out with them on the back deck, drinking my coffee while they played in the sunshine, and then I dared to say aloud, "This is like being on vacation!" The sunshine. The playing. The calm.

And then the universe smote me. 

As soon as the exclamation point was out of my mouth, Henry stole Luke's toy by biting him on the shoulder to get him to release his grip, then Luke went into a rage tirade and threw a very heavy toy truck at Henry's head. Still enraged, Luke stormed over to the the nearest flower pot and started ripping out perfectly healthy flowers. Henry though this was hilarious and ditched his stolen toy to join in the anger-fun. Luke took this opportunity to "race" back to his previously cherished toy and claim it as his rightful owner. Henry realized what was happening and followed Luke back, ripped him to the ground by his shirt and crawled to the toy. This is when I finally gave up the dream I could enjoy my perfect coffee, so I set it on the ground and jumped into the fight, swooping them both up in my arms. Luke started trying to jump to his death from my arms, while Henry sunk his teeth deep into my neck LIKE A VAMPIRE, and then gave me a heart warming giggle while I screamed obscenities.

Because that's what they do you guys. They hurt you and then they make you love them while they're doing it.

I briefly set them down so I could get a better grip on both of them, and in those two seconds they managed to knock over the bench I had previously been sitting on, throw the bench cushion into a pile of mud, and knock over my coffee.

My perfectly made, never-been-more-delicous, ratio-ed-like-it-was-science coffee with cream and 7 teeny grains of sugar.

That is when I lost it.

"You guys are so. . . !" 

Yeah, I let them fill in the blanks. Because sometimes saying nothing is more powerful, if you know what I mean. Also, I couldn't think of anything that didn't end with years of psychology. 

Eventually I got them to stop bruising me and each other by putting them in their respective cribs, and saying, "You guys need to chill out."

Immediately they started laughing and passing toys back and forth, and all was well with the world.

The giggling went on for an hour until one of them got a bigger bite of yogurt and then all hell broke loose.

Living with them is like living with tiny, adorable psychopaths.

Hugging is not what they envisioned for their morning!

And now! For pictures! Because it's been a long time. 

Henry and Tula building sandcastles.

It's been so hot we stopped our bike ride to run into the pond, fully clothed! So fun. Until we realize there's sand in places there should never be sand. (i.e., our vaginas.)

This is what happens when you host playgroup at your house and don't care what that loud noise was. 

Luke is literally attached at the hip right now. Note that I have not even put my coffee cup down yet, and there he is, hooked on per ushe.

Oh yes! I dyed my hair. 

This is how Adeline goes to bed these days. She's just so fancy she needs her eye mask to get her beauty rest.

.

Luke, enjoying a hike at Palisade Falls.

Someone was super proud of himself.

My little cling-on.

Family hike!

Sometimes you need to hold hands to make it up the mountain.

(That's like, a metaphor for stuff, you guys.)

Dolls were necessary for the hike. Obvi.

Me: Yes, Luke, I'm still here.

Luke: I want your eyes on me at all times, woman!

Taking a rest with the dolls and giving them some much needed love.

Things They Don't Tell You About

People always tell you you're gonna be tired when you have a baby.

A BABY.

And that seems reasonable. Sure, I'll be tired, babies need to eat and stuff. They need to be, like, cared for at all hours. But that's where it ends. That's where the whole, "You'll be tired" talk goes, and so you unconsciously think to yourself, "Cool, I can handle 9-12 months of being tired. And then my child will sleep through the night forever, and ever, Amen, and I'll go back to looking like a normal human, and acting like I know why I came into this room."

But that's the biggest bunch of bullshit I've ever heard.

What they should say is - say goodbye to your happy looking eyes, they're about to be surrounded by dark circles of death!

Today I was talking to my friend Tiana and we were discussing how there's a difference between being tired, and being sick-tired, and being tired-tired, and then being hungover-tired, and being I-just-cleaned-up-explosive-poop-while-being-puked-on-tired, and being why-the-fuck-is-my-phone-in-the-fridge-AGAIN-tired, and being I-just-ate-a-pint-of-ice-cream-for-dinner-because-there-was-nothing-else-and-my-kids-were-all-asleep-so-I-couldn't-drive-to-Taco-Bell-like-I-wanted-tired, and being I-can't-have-sex-with-you-because-I-just-cleaned-the-toilet-you-use-tired, and being mother-fucking-tired.

Do you see a common theme here?

There's always a baseline tired once you have kids.

IT. NEVER. GOES. AWAY.

I asked her like five times when they last time she wasn't tired was, and she couldn't tell me. Even if you go on vacation you're super tired because you're catching up on sleep from all the lack of sleep.

I typically start my day thinking about how much coffee I'm going to need to get through it. You people (yes, I'm saying that with squinty eyes while shaking my head) who "don't drink coffee" because you "have enough energy without it" and "don't like the way it makes you feel" or "the way it tastes" - I applaud you, and simultaneously do not understand how you have not fallen into a deep, deep coma. "Good for you guys."

I hear that one day I won't be tired anymore, but my kids all sleep through the night, people. That's not the problem. The problem is they're still awake during the day. Having kids is like getting on a treadmill that speeds up and slows down at will, shouts random demands at you while it decides to surprise you with rage, or sock you in the face with sadness, and sneezes in your mouth when you yawn.

It's an emotional treadmill of lovey doom.

But damnit if it's not worth every sleepless, horrible minute.

I'll take the dark circles and the bags under my eyes for these suckers any day.

Always Hungry

Today I found myself yelling, "No you CANNOT have a salad!" to my four year old.

Because that's logical.

But really, kids are so manipulative they will twist and turn you so hard you'll be saying no to veggies and demanding they finish their cocaine before bed.

Adeline's fav thing to do is ask for snacks before naps and bed. And I always give in because we are basically the same person and if I'm even the slightest bit hungry I am either on the brink of death or the brink of murdering someone. Pretty much if my blood sugar is low someone is going to die.

So, despite the fact everyone thinks I'm crazy for letting my four year old stay up late to eat ("She should eat at dinner and if she doesn't finish, let her be hungry, she'll learn!" or "Offer her a snack at 7pm and that's it!"  Ok, you guys. Cool, plan. Except I do all that. She DOES get a snack at 7pm, but then at 8:30 she's starving again. And how do I know this? BECAUSE WE ARE BASICALLY THE SAME PERSON. I know her very thoughts and feelings before she has them.

Put that in her future-psychologist-fund and suck on it.)

(For the record, I do not feel that way with my other three. I love them beyond life itself, and I am super intuitive about them, but Adeline and I are in sync with our food needs like N'Sync was in sync with their masterful vocal styling sync-y-ness.)

I do it because she needs to eat so that she doesn't wake up in the middle of her nap crying and trying to stab someone.

BUT.

Sometimes, she does go a little overboard, and gets a little too demand-y with her snack options. Can I bring her a granola bar? Hell yes. Can I make some wild rice and steamed asparagus for her? No. Does she want pretzels and cream cheese? Sure. That sounds good, I will have some too. But can I make her an effing salad with olives and steamed asparagus? Not when it's 10 minutes into nap time and I only have 50 minutes of quiet time left to myself, and I'll be damned if I'm going to spend 8 more of it steaming damned asparagus!

STEAM YOUR OWN ASPARAGUS, ADELINE!

Jeeze.

Of course, then I inhaled a donut in about 4 seconds flat while I was raging about the audacity of my daughter to ask for a salad - A SALAD - of all things! And about 30 seconds after that, the donut hit my belly and started to work it's amazing blood sugar magic, and suddenly I realized that here was a girl asking for something healthy and I should not be denying it. Because I want her to want to eat healthy things. And I want to encourage that sort of snack option.

And because I am a giant pushover.

But really, who doesn't love asparagus?

Or this girl?

I'm Not Bossy. I'm The Boss.

I was talking to my sister this morning and she asked what Tula was yelling about in the background and I was like, "Oh she's in the bubble bath and she wants me to bring her some bacon."

And then we both paused because - Tula's life right now you guys, is pretty much platinum.

She's in a bubble bath I made for her with my favorite shampoo (because it makes the best bubbles and I'm a pushover), playing with about forty different Barbie dolls, and she's just randomly demanding people bring her bacon.

She's basically Beyonce.

Remember That?

I know I'm like the little boy who cried wolf with this blog, but I REALLY am going to start writing more because I want to be able to remember things. I remember nothing at this point. 

That's not true, I remember the minute the kids went to bed, when they woke up, how many bites they ate, and how much water they've had. I remember every single detail of their lives that is important to their survival. My brain only thinks about what the kids are doing, what they need to be doing, and how I can get it done. I am constantly thinking about these four other little people, so I can't let anything else in. If you want me to remember your birthday you better send me an email telling me to call you. If you want me to remember what to buy at the grocery store you better tattoo that sh*t on my forehead. And if you want me to remember when the last time I shaved my legs was, you better talk me into getting to third base because that's the only way we'll be able to tell.

Aw, remember third base?

Nope.

ME EITHER.

Anyway, the kids are cute. They ate three minutes ago. They need to eat again in 38 minutes. The end.

I actually have been squeezing in extra work, at night when they're asleep, and it is so nice. It is so nice to be using my brain for things that don't involve poop or making toast. And I'm getting paid to write tiny little things which is beyond my favorite thing in the world. It's pretty much like my birthday every day I do it. Even if it's something I have zero interest in writing, I still love it so much. I could write people's grocery lists for them and be thrilled.

Ok, so real stories coming later. For now, pictures!

But first, are we all on the same page with what third base is? Who the hell has time for that?! 

Please tell me you have time for third base. Someone out there! Maybe when the kids are all in preschool? MC, I know you have time for that. You sexy minx.

The kids!

Tula is totally ready for whatever.

Addie loves her new scooter! She's super serious about it.

Bath time love!

Oh these boys! My heart.

Friends are the best.

It's almost June, but they still rock the Christmas jams.

Oh my god I went on a trip. To a wedding. BY MYSELF.

No kids at all.

For the first time in 5 years.

More on that later, obviously.

Mother of the Year

So, Addie's school had them do a little Mother's Day project last week and when I walked in to pick her up on Friday one of her teachers was already laughing. When I asked her what was so funny she said, "Oh just waaaaait!"

Yeah.

FIRST OF ALL!

I was laughing so hard/almost crying.

But, ALSO! 

I don't know why she thinks I like cleaning so much. I genuinely hate it. I like to have things clean. I adore a clean house. I just dislike doing it. Like, with a passion. As soon as she's old enough, Addie is taking over the majority of the cleaning. 

ALSO! 

She's not wrong though. I spend all. damn. day. cleaning the ding dang house.  That's what happens when you have four small, highly destructive children who claim paralysis and young age when I ask them to pick up after themselves. When I told Luke to pick up the blocks he threw all over the living room this morning he just looked at me, said, "Bee!" and ate a Tic-Tac he found on the floor that I'm pretty sure is over 2 years old. 

"Some help you are!" I yelled at him as I walked away to have a talk with Henry about how he shouldn't eat tin foil. In response Henry giggled and spit out the tin foil and something else I couldn't define, but I'm pretty sure it was a hardened piece of orange I lost 3 months ago.

"Henry, go home you're drunk," I told him as I moved onto Tula.

Tula was sitting on a sea of laundry spilled onto the floor, so large I could no longer see a single square inch of floor. I didn't even bother with that.

"Call me when you're 12 and I can ground you," I said walking away to the next mess.

And the next. 

And the next.

And that's why she thinks my favorite drink is "alcohol."

For the record! I only drink wine after I put everyone to bed! And I can barely get through a half a glass before I fall asleep in my ice cream.

Little stinker. Now her teachers think I'm an OCD lush, with a salad-eating disorder. 

Such a typical mom.

My babies and me on Mother's Day. 

I am so lucky.

Baby Love

I am not afraid of affection. I love me some affection. I kiss and hug my kids constantly. If Josh would let me, I'd kiss and hug him constantly, but he likes to "breathe" and be able to "eat with two hands" and "look single."

Luckily, most of my kids are super affectionate too, but Luke - my sweet little Lukey - is affectionate to the max! Sometimes I will be doing the dishes or something and I'll look up to find him smiling and making little googly eyes at me like a love-struck Romeo. If we're at playgroup, or the library, or somewhere someone might give him eye contact, he'll stare hard at his intended until she (or he - he's an equal opportunity lover) looks back and smiles, and then he'll bring out the cheeks and the eye lashes and before you know it you're giving him all your money and promising to run away to Mexico with him.

And lately, he's gotten into kissing. Like, really, really into kissing. Often when I pick him up he's so thrilled and in love with me for giving him attention (which is 99% of the day), that he'll start kissing me on the lips. But not just a light peck, it has now turned into deep, long, dare I say it - passionate kisses.

We almost frenched the other day, you guys.

He is really forceful with his love.

This is mid-make out sesh.

How can you not love that little face?!

I love him so much, and I love that he wants to kiss me (and everything that's ever laid eyes on him, just because they looked at him) but I can't tell if I feel uncomfortable or not when the kiss lasts more than three seconds. I tend to just end it and pull away, but then he just goes in for more.

I've seen him do this to Josh to, and Josh (a 190 lb, 6'2" man) gets pinned to the ground with the sheer force of Luke's love and he cannot escape it. He'll start doing the uncomfortable giggle-kiss where he's like, "Oh, thanks for the kiss Luke *kiss* Oh, one more? How ni- *kiss* Wow, I missed you too buddy *kiss* Ok, jeeze you're reall- *kiss* Alright, maybe I could just sit up *kiss* Can I just *kiss* Thanks, uh *kiss* Mom *kiss* Hey, Mom! *kiss* Mom! *kiss* Little help! *kiiiiiiiisssssssssssssss*"

He's a very romantic baby, you guys.

If you ever feel like you need someone to make you feel special, call Luke. He'll love the crap out of you.

About to attack Tula with his charm.

Henry's trying to escape Luke's advaces, straight out the doggie door.

Easter cuteness.

They have these amazing things at the mall, that are like giant robot stuffed animals you can ride on. They blast Michael Jackson and go about .04 mph and the kids LOVE them because they get to drive around the mall like big shots.

So fun!

Luke sending his lovey kisses through the tupperware, so you can keep it fresh.

Addie and Tula rockin' their dad's old t-shirts from when he was a kid.

Luke, charging me so he can tackle, and kiss. 

Just a normal day.