Sarah loves playing on Opa's chair.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Goofing off
Sarah loves playing on Opa's chair.
Caleb the Destroyer vs Sarah Sunshine
Matt just shared this video with me. Good thing Sarah is a total trooper.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
I think I can
But really I can't. Or shouldn't. It's really not advisable.
Let me be crystal clear: Do Not Take Your 15-Month-Old Twins to the pediatrician ALONE.
I mean, I know there are probably hundreds of thousands of mothers who do this every day. But I'm not cut out for it. I try to be brave and capable but it was laughable how crazy this doctor's visit was. I was wishing myself into the author royalties meeting that I was missing. Here's the story...
I forgot that we had Caleb and Sarah's check up today. Matt left for work around 9 and the nanny had a doctor's appointment of her own. Their appointment was at 10:30. At the same time, we had a couple trees that were hanging by a thread from the slew of storms last month taken down. Big trees.
So let's set the stage with the wood chipper and about a dozen men taking down limps and climbing trees and LOTS of noise so essentially no nap at the regular morning time. Off we go to the doctor's appointment full of hope and promise and stupidity.
We get to the doctor's office and well, so far so good. I carry C&S into the office (the doors we're luckily ajar) and we just got a backpack-style diaper bag. We go into the waiting room, which is equipped with toys. Then quickly ushered into an exam room. This is the part I hate as an adult waiting in a doc's office because you're cut off from the tv or magazine. In this case, toys.
The nurse comes in and I start stripping down Sarah. I put her on the scale and all hell breaks loose. She's freaked, won't stay on the scale, crying hysterically, clinging to me for dear life. She's usually so easy. OK, no weight check in. Repeat with Caleb. They really are twins. Except now I have clingy crying Sarah on my hip at the same time that I have to deal with Caleb. I'll spare you the details but, again, no weight check. Let's call it 21 or 22 lbs - close enough. Skinny minnies.
Fine, so the nurse leaves (runs for dear life) and I AM ALONE with two naked babies (diapers on) and a seriously non-babyproofed room. You know the game Twister? That's me. Hand on the door (besides the fact that it doesn't latch closed, it would have been no problem for the dynamic duo), leg on the cabinet where C has found there are diapers and pull ups and other goodies stored. I'm out of limbs by the time Caleb goes for the plug that powers the ear thingy machine. I sacrifice my keys ( not a germaphobe and practicality weighs more than hygiene) and hand off the one toy I have and really start praying. Like, I swear, I'll stop XYZ if you make them stop.
Finally, the doc comes in and it goes as smoothly as possible. Yea, Caleb is gnawing on a tongue depressor as Sarah is getting checked out, but that's fine. They're quiet. Oh, and climbing. I wised up and put the chair against the door so whatever twin wasn't on the table wasn't escaping. But it somehow left the chair in the prime climbing positoin. We survive the check up, and the shots (!) , and I get them dressed and out into the car (carrying them together). But it wiped me out.
I got home and all the trree peeps were taking a siesta. Nanny is not back yet and I don't think I've had any food all day. So I write my colleages at work to tell them not to expect any intelligent correspondence from me today. I am wiped, get the kids off to a nap and then take one myself.
I'm going to pretend that the crazy neighbor lady didn't come by and ruin my 30 minutes of peace.....but that's another story for another time. And it's Matt's problem now ;-)
Let me be crystal clear: Do Not Take Your 15-Month-Old Twins to the pediatrician ALONE.
I mean, I know there are probably hundreds of thousands of mothers who do this every day. But I'm not cut out for it. I try to be brave and capable but it was laughable how crazy this doctor's visit was. I was wishing myself into the author royalties meeting that I was missing. Here's the story...
I forgot that we had Caleb and Sarah's check up today. Matt left for work around 9 and the nanny had a doctor's appointment of her own. Their appointment was at 10:30. At the same time, we had a couple trees that were hanging by a thread from the slew of storms last month taken down. Big trees.
So let's set the stage with the wood chipper and about a dozen men taking down limps and climbing trees and LOTS of noise so essentially no nap at the regular morning time. Off we go to the doctor's appointment full of hope and promise and stupidity.
We get to the doctor's office and well, so far so good. I carry C&S into the office (the doors we're luckily ajar) and we just got a backpack-style diaper bag. We go into the waiting room, which is equipped with toys. Then quickly ushered into an exam room. This is the part I hate as an adult waiting in a doc's office because you're cut off from the tv or magazine. In this case, toys.
The nurse comes in and I start stripping down Sarah. I put her on the scale and all hell breaks loose. She's freaked, won't stay on the scale, crying hysterically, clinging to me for dear life. She's usually so easy. OK, no weight check in. Repeat with Caleb. They really are twins. Except now I have clingy crying Sarah on my hip at the same time that I have to deal with Caleb. I'll spare you the details but, again, no weight check. Let's call it 21 or 22 lbs - close enough. Skinny minnies.
Fine, so the nurse leaves (runs for dear life) and I AM ALONE with two naked babies (diapers on) and a seriously non-babyproofed room. You know the game Twister? That's me. Hand on the door (besides the fact that it doesn't latch closed, it would have been no problem for the dynamic duo), leg on the cabinet where C has found there are diapers and pull ups and other goodies stored. I'm out of limbs by the time Caleb goes for the plug that powers the ear thingy machine. I sacrifice my keys ( not a germaphobe and practicality weighs more than hygiene) and hand off the one toy I have and really start praying. Like, I swear, I'll stop XYZ if you make them stop.
Finally, the doc comes in and it goes as smoothly as possible. Yea, Caleb is gnawing on a tongue depressor as Sarah is getting checked out, but that's fine. They're quiet. Oh, and climbing. I wised up and put the chair against the door so whatever twin wasn't on the table wasn't escaping. But it somehow left the chair in the prime climbing positoin. We survive the check up, and the shots (!) , and I get them dressed and out into the car (carrying them together). But it wiped me out.
I got home and all the trree peeps were taking a siesta. Nanny is not back yet and I don't think I've had any food all day. So I write my colleages at work to tell them not to expect any intelligent correspondence from me today. I am wiped, get the kids off to a nap and then take one myself.
I'm going to pretend that the crazy neighbor lady didn't come by and ruin my 30 minutes of peace.....but that's another story for another time. And it's Matt's problem now ;-)
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