When Privacy and Dignity Go Out the Window April 28, 2012
We’ve all heard those comedians do stand-up under the guise of, “You know you’re a BEEP when…” and they would fill in the beep with a myriad of nouns. I became acutely aware today that I was a mother. That’s my beep – I’m a mother.
I stay at home with my three and a half-year old twins and there is truly never a dull moment. I realized I was a mother of twins when while trying to use the bathroom, I became over run by the girls with a tube of lip gloss in hand, demanding that I “put on sassy lips”. I just let out a sigh as I applied the goopy Wet ‘N Wild to puckered up faces. Sometimes it’s just easier to feed the frenzy before it eats you alive.
I knew I was a mother of twins when at the grocery store, both girls were having a meltdown in the cart because we weren’t sticking around to ogle at the lobsters in the tank. I tried to pull away from the tank when one of the girls grabbed the display rack next to the tank and began dragging it with her. I was stopped by a crusty octogenarian in a furry hat and house dress. She leaned in to the girls, put a finger to her lips and shushed them. For a split second, I almost forgot how angry I was at the girls for making me look like a bad mother and geared up to bust up some old lady!
But for all the meltdowns, fights, tears and temper tantrums, I get the same amount of experiences from the other end of the spectrum.
I knew I was a mother when after cleaning up the kitchen from breakfast, Alberta came to me and said, “You clean Mommy?” I told her I was and she followed it up with, “Good job Mommy.”
I knew I was a mother when tucking them in after a really brutal day, and Beatrice put her hand on my face, rubbed it gently and said, “You soft. I love you.” I love being soft and loved.
There are so many moments throughout the day that I look at them and think, “Who are you little devils?” and not 30 seconds later, I’m being cuddled, adored and consoled by the perpetrators. There will never be another experience in life that can bring you such suffering and such unbridled joy as being a parent. And just when I’m a hair’s breath away from losing it, I think of the movie “Ice Age” and the poignant words from Sid the Sloth; “You’re in our herd now. Dignity has nothing to do with it.” And I’m okay with that.
Life is a 7 a.m. dance party for two of The Wild Six April 16, 2012
My man was kind enough to let me sleep in until 6:30 this morning while he dealt with the kids.
I always thought that one day being adored by screaming fans would be heaven and that all that unbridled joy would fuel my self-worth tank. When you have four kids and two of them only know how to communicate at a screeching level of 10, the adoration gets old. As soon as my feet hit the floor, I’m verbally assaulted with the word, “Mom”, “Mommy” and little paparazzi hands coming at me from every direction. I feel like one of those hung over celebs, shielding their eyes from the cameras, face covered in dark sunglasses with a look of, “Whaaa?” on my face. I want to spin on my heels and head back in the direction of the bedroom and sleep the world away. But people always need something and little people wait for no one. I knew that breakfast had to be made, and made again (my twins LIVE for breakfast), husband out the door, older kids walking to school and then the party begins.
After repeated demands for “Dance, dance, dance!”, I put on “Don’t Stop the Party” by the Black Eyed Peas and that’s just what happens. Our a.m. dance party begins. And trust me, it will not only wake you up, but watching my twin ladies shake their three and a half-year old stuff will bring your shriveled spirit back to center. I dare any of you to not glance out your kitchen window to make sure no one is watching and start droppin’ it like it’s hot with your toddlers. It’s a great morning.