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Archive for September, 2009

Divorce

Posted in The Joy of Twins, tagged , , on September 29, 2009 | 7 Comments »

No, I’m not getting one, or have any desire to get one, but a heck of a lot of people I know are, and it’s really freaking me out. Is it just me, or are more young couples getting divorced these days?

I know of a great many, and I don’t even know that many people. They’re everywhere- East Coast, West Coast, England, remote Pacific islands, etc. It irks me for multiple reasons: 1) I hate to see people I care about unhappy 2) I’m a child of divorce, and divorce  SUCKS for everyone  3) I have no common thread to tie them together; no link between all the couples that explains the phenomenon. In fact, I’m starting to think the lack of thread is the common thread, if that even makes sense. For example, none of the couples I’m thinking of have children, none of them married quickly without really knowing the other- they all dated for years. None married very young- all were in there 30s. None are splitting because of infidelity. All the usual suspects have been eliminated, leaving me with the question- Why the hell couldn’t they make it work?

I don’t mean to be insensitive, or to suggest that all marriages can or should be saved. I can’t possibly know what’s going on in another person’s marriage and probably shouldn’t speculate. What bothers me is that it seems to be happening so damn often these days, and I think that sometimes- yes, sometimes- people do give up too easily. There’s seems to be a worrisome “if you’re not happy, leave” idea going around. I say- if you’re unhappy, do something to change it, get to work on those issues, but don’t go running out the door.  Unless you’re being abused- then run like hell.

One of my favorite Elliott Smith songs has this great line, “I can make you satisfied in everything you do.” I love it because it’s so preposterous. No person or thing can make any of us satisfied in everything we do. In fact, the people we love, and the things we do, like careers and parenting, the things that matter to us most, are the very things that frustrate us the most. That often leave us deeply unsatisfied, and sometimes unhappy. Because we care about them. I love marriage, and I love parenting (especially multiples!), but both are hard work. I know my fellow Mommy bloggers realize that, but I’m starting to think the outside world may not.

Then again, maybe I’m totally wrong. Maybe it’s only the couples I know getting divorced, and there’s no worldwide epidemic going on. So tell me- is anyone else out there surrounded by divorce, or is it just me?

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What I Do When I’m Supposed to be Sleeping

Posted in The Joy of Twins, tagged , , , on September 19, 2009 | 5 Comments »

I go through long phases where, unless heavily medicated, I never sleep. When I lived in the Boston area, my doc used to hook me up with Ambien. Ahh, those were the days. I suppose I could ask my island doc for Ambien, but he already thinks I’m a skank, and probably wouldn’t believe me when I say my being up all night has to do with my brain firing off crazy thoughts, not any dirty sex marathons. Oh well. But last night I managed to get the next best thing to sleep narcotics- company. I corrupted my husband into staying up very, very late with me, talking about crazy things. We decided to revolutionize the sport of fencing.

The sport of fencing is in serious need of a revolution, based on the footage I saw last Olympics. First of all, they don’t even used swords- they use electrified toasting forks and turkey basters. Well, that’s what they look like anyway. And they don’t circle each other and yell Momma insults. The two competitors stay on a narrow little runway and jab at each other for about 6 seconds before what sounds like a microwave alarm goes off, and the match is over. Waiting for pop tarts is more exciting, I’m telling you. So- we’ve come up with 3 divisions for what we call, REAL FENCING:

1. PURIST- Purist fencing involves a dual, at dawn, on an immaculately kept lawn. Both competitors must wear long-sleeve white linen shirts. The first to draw blood wins.

2. BAR ROOM- My person favorite. This style would talk place in a medieval tavern, with points being awarded for a number of scenarios: fighting on bar top- 10 pts. Flicking opponent’s hat in the air and swishing a smiley face in top, 15 pts. Saying, with just cause, “Methinks dear Sir, you have soiled your breeches!” 50 pts, hands down. There would also be props involved, and a wench. Props to include bottles and 3 legged stools for smashing over opponent’s head. Wench’s involvement follows one of 3 scenarios: the competitors are fighting over who gets to keep the wench, one competitor has offended the wench and the other fights for her honor, or one of the competitors IS the wench- she and her opponent are hot for each other and use their swords to pop buttons or cut off one another’s clothing outright. Now THAT’S hotter than a pop tart, yo.

3. PIRATICAL: Taking place on a pirate ship (obviously). Ways to gain points to include- swinging from the rigging, lassoing around ankle of opponent
and stringing opponent up in rigging, spearing a large game fish (such as marlin) with one sword while simultaneously fencing opponent with second sword. Fencing on bowsprit of moving ship, triple points, mention of “Davy Jones’ Locker,” bonus points.

I expect a call from the Olympic committee any day now.

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Yay, I made it! Time for Wine.

Posted in The Joy of Twins, tagged , , , on September 15, 2009 | 3 Comments »

I must thank you all for your kind comments about Mumu’s intellect. Given that she drinks her own bath water nightly, however, I remain unconvinced of her genius.

I am about to relax with an enormous glass of wine to celebrate the end of my 5 night solo parenting stint. It’s been a wild ride, as always, and it hasn’t just been Mumu pulling out the crazy stunts. This week Lulu started to make me regret my tough stance and smack talking on child harnesses. She is so small, but so damn FAST. The other day I brought the girls to the park, and a man was running around the perimeter of the park with a dog on a leash. I still kind of can’t believe this happened- but- Lulu took off after them, at top speed, and chased them at close proximity around the entire perimeter of the park. My jaw dropped to the jungle lawn. I had no idea that 1) she could run fast enough to keep up with a grown man and dog, and 2) that she could run that fast for an entire loop around the park. It was insane. The dude was well freaked out. I was well freaked out. Lulu? Barely winded.

Jungledad returns tomorrow, and is bound to be disappointed he missed all the girls crazy exploits this week. He sometimes complains that they only do cool things when he’s away. And before we had children, he used to complain that the cat only did cool things while he was away. Actually, that’s kind of true. Once, while he was at a telescope in Chile, I heard the cat gagging in the other room. I went in, and saw a piece of pink thread dangling from kitty’s mouth. I started pulling on it, and before I knew it, 6 ft had come out. Then I felt resistance, and she really started gagging, so I snipped the thread and wished her luck getting the spool out the other end. Cat was fine. Jungledad was inconsolable that he missed witnessing something so unbelievably cool (his words). “Dammit, why does nothing this cool happen when I’m around!?” I dunno, I’m just lucky I guess ;)

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Mumu’s Reign of Terror

Posted in The Joy of Twins, tagged , , , , on September 12, 2009 | 8 Comments »

Jungledad is back on the volcano, which means Mumu’s reign of terror is in full swing. It started innocently enough- she dumped an entire box of cornstarch on her sister’s head. Okay, maybe that’s not innocent per se, but it did have serious comedic value, as it made Lulu look like a hundred year old baby. Hilarious! Until I had to clean her up- then slightly less entertaining. At least husband was there to help. And laugh.

Once Daddy left, heartbroken (major daddy’s girl) Mumu sought solace in one of her favorite strictly-forbidden activities: the sugar shower. She scaled the kitchen drawer handles like a little mountaineer to retrieve a large container of sugar from the counter top. Yeah, you guessed it- she poured that sucker right over her head, and Lulu’s, gleefully licking the sugar as it cascaded down her chubby cheeks. Ecstatic. And of course this is my expensive, locally grown, large grain, minimally processed sugar (Jungledad and I buy to put on our crepes and never share with the girls) and the second time she’s done it.

Yet even this cannot compare with her recent exploits. For some time now, Mumu has been trying to escape her crib. She is not ready for a big girl bed, and more to the point, I am not ready for her to have a big girl bed, so I have started dressing both girls in sleep sacks to put the kibosh on climbing. No shame in that game, yo. I’d consider straitjackets if it came down to it.

Undaunted, Mumu has started a kangaroo campaign. She’s been trying for some time use her mattress as a launch pad to physically jump out of her crib. While I admire her chutzpah, and have frequently told others to, in the words of Johnny Cash, “break their rusty cage and run” when I’m asked advice on dead end jobs and relationships, that advice is not applicable for actual cages. She needs to stay in hers. Luckily, the kangaroo campaign has resulted only in stronger quads, and a mattress flat as a pancake.

Unfortunately, she didn’t give up. Sometime in the last few days, Mumu had an epiphany. She thought to herself- why do I really want to get out of my crib? Answer- to move around my room and mess with things. Epiphany- what if I could move around my room and mess with things WHILE still in my crib!? What an evil genius plan! So- I don’t know how she does it, but she drives that crib like a friggin golf cart. I kid you not. She’s found some way to throw her body weight just so (all 24lbs), to move entire large wooden crib in whatever direction catches her fancy. I entered the nursery on a recent morning to find that she had driven crib across the room, to a rocking chair which held on its seat, a brookstone baby lullaby maker. Maker is too fat to fit through slats of crib, so she grabbed hold and jimmied it hand over hand over top of crib, then preceded to meticulously disassemble. But this wasn’t enough mischief for one night, oh no. She then popped the crib in reverse (again, HOW is she doing this!? Will I find notebooks full of crayon calculus under her mattress?) backed that sucker all the way to the window, and tore down the darkening shade. GOOD MORNING, MOMMY! Look what I did :)

This afternoon I found the remains of a purple crayola crayon in my dryer- all over my white shorts. While I cannot prove this was Mumu’s handiwork (unlike the crayon on the walls, which was most definitely Mumu’s work) I am deeply suspicious, and slightly terrified as to what she may pull next. While I wait for her next attack, does anyone know how to get purple crayon off clothes?

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Why my Children Won’t be Watching TV

Posted in The Joy of Twins, tagged , , , on September 6, 2009 | 5 Comments »

It’s not what you think. It’s not about the violence, the brain-rot, the sex, drugs and rock n’roll. Not about bragging rights or childhood obesity, or even that obnoxious word, “principle.” It’s about 3 words, count em, 3: My. Little. Pony. What’s wrong with a little pony? A LOT. It won’t stop at pony; it won’t stop at little. Once they have little ponies they’ll need milliponies, then microponies and it won’t stop there. Soon there will be nano ponies, visible only through my-little-electron-microscope, and I don’t need to tell you all- the smaller the equine, the heftier the price tag. Accessories will follow, as they always do, and nano paddocks will need pico hay.  Before you know it we’ll be taking out a second mortgage to finance femto ponies, visible only through my-little-atomic-force-microscope, which I’ll have to sell the girls’ savings bonds, my saxophone, and my body to afford. It’s just not worth it, ladies.

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