Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Texas Chainsaw Massacre

We're officially afraid of the dark.

You know the horror movies where the teens are swimming at the lake all day and asking each other why the friendly seeming camp counselor who slices their sandwiches with a chainsaw has such a bad rep? And then the sun goes down and he cuts them all into pieces?

The last week has been like watching that movie over and over.

We frolic by day. Literally frolic. Diaper change? No, let me get that. Hungry baby? Allow me. Why don't you go take a shower, I'll handle these scamps. HA HA! Why don't you go work out, I'll bond with the girls. HEE HEE!

But at night, the chainsaws come out. Both of them.

The fact that they've bested me should come as no surprise. I just found out two weeks ago that I didn't actually know how to tie my shoes. I've been living a lie all these years, apparently following some procedure more appropriate for strapping on fishing lures every time I wanted to go outside.

But Amy is our rock. Before we left the hospital she was breastfeeding both babies at the same time, something the nurses assured her usually takes mere mortals much longer to master. Those who know her will not be surprised. Amy is barely mortal. If it weren't for her love of reality television she would have been sainted by now. Our first night at home, she could not only breastfeed both of them, but somehow added the ability to also eat a slice of pizza at the same time. She has skills, is what I'm saying.

But these babies, they came with knives out. I knew we were taking some blows, but I assumed we still had the upper hand until the grandparents allowed Amy and I to escape for a meal and she broke down while asking for more chips and salsa. I've tried to tell her that the combination of hormones, sleep deprivation, and a husband who can't tie his shoes is enough to break anyone, and that this is all perfectly normal, but this is a woman who is not accustomed to crying while asking for refills. On the upside, the chips and salsa came back like that.

It's very hard to think back on the last week and imagine that there's an overpopulation issue on this planet. It's hard to look back on the last week and imagine that there's such a thing as a 'younger sibling'. It's hard to imagine that I'm sitting here typing without having really slept in three days while there's a baby strapped to my chest in something called a 'hotsling', whose package assures me that it will keep me and my child looking fabulous. But here I am.

Some things I never pictured myself saying:

Please don't hand me a baby while I'm using the bathroom.

I can't watch that one, I'm watching this one, but if you want to leave her where she is I will listen for a thud.

F the environment. If Al Gore was here at three in the morning he'd offer to diaper these babies with Hummers and pieces of pure rainforest before he agreed to use another one of these leaky, cotton, pieces of shit.

Well, where was the last place you remember seeing your nipple shields?

Saturday, April 26, 2008

I Have A Present For You

I have a present for you.

It doesn't come with any instructions but everyone else knows what to do with it. Whatever you do with it will be wrong.

This present breaks every couple of hours and when it breaks you can never fix it the same way twice. If you had to cut the blue wire last time, cutting the blue wire this time WILL CAUSE IT TO EXPLODE. Also, all of the wires are blue.

This present will produce foul smelling liquids, solids, and gases. If it does not you must have it serviced until it does.

This present will hurt you, physically and mentally. It has been known to deafen people and make other people wish they were deaf. It may lead to a lawsuit from your neighbors.

Maintenance costs for this present will be exorbitant. The word 'villa' is one you no longer need remember. 'Trailer' is a word you should learn.

You must photograph this present. Even if it's doing the same thing it was just doing you must photograph it again. Every moment must be documented. No one will want to look at these photos.

If you are lucky this present will lead to piano recitals. If you are unlucky it will lead to police stations. Probably it will lead to both.

It will make you cry.

You may not sleep while you are in possession of this present.

You may not return or exchange this present.

This present is absolutely one of a kind.

I got you two.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Hey Sluggo, Don't Roscoe The Flim Flam

People seem to like twins. They're like hospital celebrities. When the nurses wheel them around, they arrive at their destination trailing stragglers. Yesterday the students who moved them from one room for another thanked us for the opportunity just to push them around. Babies in general tend to melt people's brains, but when you put two of them on a pillow together in matching outfits it's like mainlining rainbows. We should send them to negotiate for peace in the Middle East. Share Jerusalem? Well... there are two of you!

Amy is slightly disappointed at the residual bulge in her belly, which she's taken to calling 'the triplet'. She wants it delivered ASAP. I feel the triplet is the easiest to manage. Totally cooperative, quiet, limited need for college tuition. I hate to say I have a favorite, but the triplet and I are really bonding.

The whole dad job is embarrassingly easy in the first couple days. They sleep or they eat and they don't really want my help with either. I try to rearrange the furniture in the room every couple hours just to show that I can do stuff too. Would you like something lifted? I can lift things.

We told the grandparents they got to choose their own nicknames thinking that it's really a personal preference whether you want to be grandmother or grandma. They announced they've come to a decision. Neither. They want to be GiGi and Honey. Apparently they're going in a femme fatale direction. We expect the kids to come back from weekends with the grandmothers saying things like, "Scram you mud-pipes before I fill your mugs full of lead." Now we're just waiting for the grandfathers to choose. Kids, meet Maverick and Iceman.

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