Our rescheduled date fell on a perfect weekend. Spencer was going to be working almost all day Saturday and Sunday. So, the Friday night outing was to be our getaway before the long haul. Still, the preparation to make it possible leaves me almost contemplating a staycation.
I started the day by going to the store with the twins after dropping Elliana at school. This always tires me out, but we needed to have dinner ready for Elliana in order to go out tonight. So, I headed into the store “wearing” Twincy in the Moby while Twinjay, still in the carseat carrier, was nestled into the grocery cart. However, because Twinjay and Twincy are facing each other, this causes Twinjay to crack up. Literally, I was pushing a cart, with a chuckling baby, up and down aisles. The funny part is that people often think I only have one child with me (the one I’m wearing). They must think I stash the carseat in the cart for convenience (note: it is NOT convenient, just a necessity). Consequently, there are surprised looks from shoppers as they realize the giggles are coming from a live baby and, shocker, I have twins!
So, laugh-fest aside, I try to get out of the store and home in time to get the babies down for their normal naptime. This is tricky because Twincy often falls asleep in the car and I’m left to decide if I should wake her or not. As expected, this happened. But, by some luck, I was able to transfer them both to their cribs. Since their naps aren’t always predictable in length, I didn’t try to nap and instead raced around the house trying to accomplish as much as possible. And when I say “race”, I use that term loosely. What I really mean is that I’m at least not moving at a turtle’s pace any longer.
Before I know it, it’s time to get Elliana. So, I actually wake the babies, put them right into the carseats and drive to school for pick-up. After the whole lunch and naptime insanity (truly, there’s no other word for the dance that, if successful, culminates with three well-fed, sleeping children) I have a million things to get to. I have intentions of washing my jeans, typing up babysitter instructions, doing dishes, and taking a shower before the sitters come (yes, plural, we wouldn’t sick our brood on one victim for bedtime – that delight is left solely for me). However, I am FAR too tired to even begin. I set my cell phone alarm and crash on the couch with hopes of actually sleeping.
By the time I woke, Spencer was home and I had fallen into such an intensely deep sleep that I actually felt drugged. It was restorative, far too short, and incredibly hard to come out of. I went into the office to try to tell Spencer something about the order of attack and couldn’t seem to say anything intelligible. It mirrored the time I had my wisdom teeth pulled and woke from the anesthesia speaking Spanish to my Mom. I might as well have been speaking Greek, as she doesn’t know any Spanish, and the only English word I kept repeating was vacuum. I was 17 at the time, far too young to have vacuums on the brain. Either that was some sick foreshadowing for future years or my inner demons were betraying me for the world (aka my Mom and the dentist’s staff) to know about my preference for thorough cleaning.
I never did communicate what I intended to Spencer. None of my words made sense and I couldn’t think through the thick fog that was encompassing my brain. So, I abandoned that plan and began attacking the house. Spencer caught wind and followed suit and soon we could actually see the floors again!
As my list of to-do’s was impossibly long, I kept mentally ditching the ones that weren’t vital until I met the first sitter at the door as a just-woken Twinjay spit up on herself, me, and the floor. And, for some reason, I felt the need to blurt out “Anything you see in the house that looks normal was just done” and proceeded to clue her in that this was basically a disaster area. Sweetly, Celeven smiled and laughed. I could tell I was talking a little too fast (giddy from the 30+ minutes of sleep I’d gotten) and sharing way too much (normally a task reserved for Spencer, my love, the best over-sharer I know).
I gave Celeven a tour of the house and promised I’d print the instructions prior to leaving. Then, I handed her a baby and headed off to shower. My intention was to leave by 6pm, but it was already almost that time and I was anything but clean. I mentally chucked several more items from my list and raced to the bathroom.
You would think I had my clothes planned and ready for our date, but the twins have been spitting up a lot for the past two days and I never did get my jeans into the wash. So, I headed to the closet and tried on jeans that haven’t fit since before I was pregnant. Who knows, right, anything can happen! To my shock, I could pull them all the way up and, drum roll, close them comfortably with NO BELLA BAND (truly, I LOVE that band, but not needing it was almost as satisfying as going out for a few hours!). Almost is the key word there.
Once I was dressed, I finished typing instructions and welcomed our other sitter, Nanaville, to the house. It’s been weeks since we’ve seen her and she’s practically an extension of our family. I almost wanted to stay home just to catch up with her! Again, almost is the key word.
Meanwhile, Elliana decided that our outing was basically abandonment. Nevermind the fact that she talks about Nanaville daily and has been asking when Celeven will get here all week. Now that the time has come, I watch a roller coaster of emotions work through her little body, which finally collapsed on the floor. Thankfully, she was easily distracted with coloring and soon forgot her recent “orphan” status.
Hugs, kisses, a few last suggestions for bedtime.
Finally, as if we were shot out of a canon, Spencer and I exit the house. We are free and we sit in the car, in almost dumb silence. The potential for what we could do with these next few hours, and the silence in which we could complete thoughts and, dare I say, conversations, is almost numbing.