My Life: With Twins

After suffering through my blogging hiatus, not knowing what to write about or how much was too much, I came back here and changed my tag line. It used to say "Comments on my life with twins." Well, duh, they were my comments because it was my blog.

Saying "My Life: With Twins" seemed a lot more specific. If my blog were about nearly nonexistent 18th century sailing diseases my tag line would say "My Life: with Scurvy." Unlike scurvy, I can't eat a half dozen lemons and sleep off my duplicity issues. Twins are a permanent condition.

A&P used to stay right where I put them. They might not have been happy about it, but they were too small to put up too much of a fuss. My first clue that I might have some issues in the parenting department should have been when I let Peter roll off the ottoman onto the floor. He might have only been about 8 pounds, but from then on, he knew he was smarter than me. Really, who lets a baby roll off the ottoman?

A&P are 12, nearly 13 as my mother so nicely pointed out today. A clear difference from when they were 8 or 10 weeks old is that no one seems to want to come help take care of them. No one is calling asking to help at bath time or feedings. No one is bringing us lasagna and making us go take naps. I could really use that lasagna and the nap and the people to come over and explain to my nearly 13 year olds why it's not OK to smack down a bully or get tattoos or listen to music about hookers or have a secret email account or get girls' phone numbers. Each day that passes, I am getting worse at this and considering that I started off dumping one of them on the floor, I didn't have much farther to sink.

Lastly, my love for them is questioned daily. When I am ready to do my own personal smack down, I often say "I am so glad you are here and I love you with the burning passion of a thousand suns." Last week one of them said "Really? A thousand? Why not a million- is that too much for you? And, if you are really the sun then you're burning us up and that must mean that you really want to kill us."

Seriously, who is bringing lasagna for dinner tomorrow night?