Going with the flow...

You know the moment. That sweet, quiet time when you are rocking your baby to sleep in your arms. His eyes slowly drift shut as sleep gently starts to wash over him. You did it, momma. Now all you have to do is stand up and transfer him to his bed in the least-awkward way possible. There you go, complete naptime success is so close you can almost taste it…

And so can your other children.

“MOMMA!” (knock knock) “MOMMA. MOMMA. MOMMA.” (bang, bang) “THERE. IS. A. BUG.”

Oh. Hello, unwelcome toddler.

You don’t even want to look at the baby’s face as you are pretty sure his eyes are wide, wide open thanks to this very loud miniature person at his door. You sneak a quick peek at him anyway… Yep. Wide as saucers. And the toddler is unrelenting.

“MOM! (bang) MA! (bang) MOM! (bang) MA! (bang) YOU GET THE BUG!!!”

And you come to a crossroads in your life. The toddler or the baby? I usually choose the toddler, considering that the volume they operate on is louder than those monkeys that you can hear from miles away in the forest. You didn’t know about those monkeys? They exist. And my kids are louder than they are. There is no person alive who can sleep through my children’s loudness, unless they’re in a coma. Even then, the jury’s still out- I’m bringing them to the hospital next week to hang out in coma patients rooms and bother them to wakefulness.

Getting two 2-year-olds to be quiet is like getting your dog to not bark at squirrels or getting your mom to not comment on your hair. It’s not happening. But you know what? Despite the terrible odds, I still have to try. My house is small, my baby is young, and I really need for my toddlers to sometimes be quiet. I’ve tried EVERYTHING to get them to remember to be quiet for longer than 12 seconds.

Candy.

Videos.

High-fives. (I know, lame. But I ran out of candy)

Talking to them. I even tried that Beginner’s Acting trick of putting emphasis on every word in the sentence to see if it would sink in. “I NEED… for you to be quiet. I need FOR YOU… to be quiet. I need for you TO BE… quiet. I need for you to be QUIET.” They just laughed at me.

So, like with everything else, I soldier on and hope that this too shall pass. In the meantime, I have compiled a list of things that one would hope to never hear their older children say to each other whilst one is engaged in that critical moment of rocking their baby to sleep. Hearing these things forces you to face the possible destruction of your home, the safety of your toddlers, the sanity of your conscious mind, the possibility that your baby will not ever be able to take a nap for his entire existence, and the meaning of life.

Here’s the list. Most unfortunately, this list came from my truthful personal experience.

“I’m all wet!”

“You all wet!”

“It’s all wet!”

“Momma’s makeup! I try it.”

“I’m gonna climb this.”

“You climb this too, Sissy?”

“Look at my poo poo!”

“I have yucky panties.”

“You touch my bottom?” (they’re only 2, remember that)

“Did you eat it?”

“I put it in my mouth!”

“I open the door! C’mon Sissy!” (yep. The front door)

“I climb the window.”

“Take it off? My diaper?”

“I found candy!”

 “Eggs! I’m gonna crack them.” (They can open the fridge now, hurray)

So this is the background noise of my every attempt to rock the baby to sleep. I am constantly thinking, “Should I intervene? Will they be ok if I’m in here for a few more minutes? Are they going to poop on my bed?” You see, having twins first can be tricky. There is no older sibling to go, “Girls, you probably shouldn’t climb up on the counter and try to get the butcher’s knife. Bad idea.” One unsupervised two year old can be mischievous enough, but two…that’s like two recovering alcoholics living together in a house stocked with booze. No matter how much trouble they’re liable to get into if someone finds out, they’re going to fall off the wagon. We all learned in Psychology 101 that humans are more likely to disobey when someone is willing to go down with them. Well, my kids have a built-in someone. For them it is life’s greatest blessing, I’m sure. For me, well, it’s a panic attack waiting to happen.

Today’s addition to the list:

Lucky me, they both came to tell me some good news just as the baby’s eyelids were beginning to close.

“MOMMA! I go poo poo!!”(knock knock)

“Hazel go poo poo Momma! She did it!” (knock knock knock)

“You wipe my bottom?”

“Wipe Hazel’s bottom, Momma!”

 “POO POO MOMMA. POO. POO.”

So, as I imagined Hazel smearing her butt all over our tan couch, I got up from the rocking chair and attended to my toddler with the baby in my arms.

Luckily, he’s much better at going with the flow than I am.