Thank you Sarah B.W., Sarah S., Carmen, Mom, Kathleen and Melisa for all reaching out to me. I really appreciate the love, support and Melisa's story she emailed me about a pooptastrophe that was off the charts. I laughed out loud and I don't normally laugh out loud at poop stories. Groan, yes, but laugh out loud? Never. Until now.
Last Sunday, I was talking to an old friend at church I hadn't seen in years. She told me she's a twin and that her mom found out she was having twins when she went in to have her tubes tied. How do you like that one? That also made me laugh out loud.
Boy. People have such crazy experiences. Shame on me for ever assuming someone isn't that interesting. All you have to do is ask and the stories that follow....wow.
I went to parent night at Manny's preschool tonight. I read last night that people with Blood Type O (me) require vigorous exercise so I spent 15 vigorous minutes watching Family Guy on the elliptical trainer before I ran up to preschool. I knew, living where I do, that I would be the most underdressed person there and it was true. Nobody looked at me funny, but my dated workout clothes added to my overall sense that I was way too young to be in that room. People in Seattle tend to have kids older, so maybe that's part of it. But, if I'm honest, I fit right in, only not as well dressed. And that was so weird. I suppose it's a universal experience. All people must feel this way at one time or another, right? Recently I surprise myself at how much amusement I get from watching this sitcom online called "The Middle", which is about family life from the parent's perspective. When did I start finding this stuff so funny? The Mother's Day episode where the husband tells the wife at 6:30am that he's going to go watch ESPN so she can spend the day with her whining, complaining, fighting three children, because it's "her day" had me rolling in my laundry pile. Seriously. The transition from being the kid to being the one laughing at the crazy stuff kids say and do is like practically non-existent.
No nap again today. I drove across town at the right time of day and still no nap. The only one who looked like they might doze off was Manny and he's not supposed to fall asleep! I am working hard on acceptance. I think I have gone through the other stages of grief. I don't remember what they all are, but the denial and anger are easily documentable.
I already miss my times when the girls would nap and Manny and I would play high school boyfriend and girlfriend. (He doesn't know that's how I think of it. He doesn't know what high school is.) But that's what it reminded me of. Him in his underwear (this is where it is not like high school Mom) cuddling with me, stroking my hair, loudly sucking his fingers (also not like high school). OKAY. I guess upon examination this comparison doesn't really hold up. It's just that Manny is so snuggly and so cute like a very small Sam, though I think their ears are the same size. The girls are going to LOVE him. Especially now that he's given up eating the hair once he's attentively stroked it.
I got so tired around 2pm that I herded the kids into my bedroom and initiated a game of "cave" where we all laid on the bed and I had to hold up my arms and legs to create the cave with the duvet while Manny repeatedly told me to hide from the pink cat monster and Elena, in turn, would demand that I not hide. It was a really exhausting way to rest. This time ended with probably thirty minutes where either Glory or Elena had their head shoved all the way up my shirt and through the neck hole, sometimes talking about nipples and where they might be. They don't seem to accept my standard answer of, "they're in the same place they were last time." This particular shirt looks like it has been eaten by a small animal so I allowed the game to persist. It also was buying me a few more moments of stillness. Then Glory started to lick my neck. When she got out of my shirt and Elena crawled through the neckhole, Glory started to lick Elena's hair and then my hair. I couldn't decide whether I thought this was hilarious or whether Glory was the pink cat monster, so I said what I always say when I need to get out of a situation with the children.
"I need to go potty," I said.
They totally get this and almost always back off, as if to say, "Sure, yeah, you bet, I've been there. You go right ahead."
It might have been Elena who ate the holes into my shirt because nearly every children's book in our house has some piece of it eaten off. The day we left for San Diego in August, she tried to eat an entire dinner napkin right in front of my face- stuffed the whole thing in like a chipmunk- and then later that night, she ate airport toliet paper straight from the stall. This child. And if you ask her to stop doing it, she cheerfully replies, "No fanks!" She's going to be a hard one to say no to for those who are easily charmed.
At some point I had to come downstairs and try to make some dinner. The kids were playing so well together in Manny's room until I heard him shout, "Don't touch my taxes either!" Sam and I finally did our taxes last weekend and Manny's really into it now.
So Elena came downstairs and Manny and Glory had a special time together pulling all the sheets off our bed and setting up camp on the deck, which reminds me I was going to wash all of that and now it's too late. Hmmmm.....anyway, I was happy for them because Manny and Glory don't usually hang out just the two of them. Every time I heard her cry, I rushed upstairs. She was in the middle of the bed, sucking her thumb and clutching her blankie while Manny jumped around to a U2 compliation, occasionally landing on her, causing her to cry. I heard him sweetly reply, more than once, "Don't be afraid. It's Bono singing!"
Elena pulled out about fifteen feet of toliet paper before we all came downstairs. Manny was trying to salvage it and roll it back, but he must have gotten frustrated because the next thing I knew he was carrying an enormous wad of TP down the stairs. He handed it to me and I sighed, but I have to tell you, an enormous wad of TP on your kitchen counter really comes in handy. I have used it countless times to dry this, wipe up that, snuggle a little bit when I need a soft touch. I'm thinking about just having a wad of TP there all the time, at least until Elena gets taller and starts nibbling pieces of it for "snacks" in-between snacks. Oh well. It's got to be easier on her digestive track than the huge chunk of the book of Revelation she ate from my Bible.
Oh, and I told Manny's new preschool teacher and assistant teacher about Super Ass Man and they couldn't stop laughing about it. We agree this is not a school game, but it made me like them a lot! I encouraged he will be in good hands.