When babies swarm

It’s wonderful to be loved, and fabulous to be needed. It makes one feel so wonderful and fabulous. However, there are times when the relentless neediness of twins can be a little overwhelming. Let me give you a frinstance.

For instance, the other night I was trying to take a bath. Not a luxurious, mud mask wearing, pedicure inducing, stress relieving bath, no, it was more of the quick, get wet so we can scrub up and rinse off, I should have taken a shower, type bath. Anyway, there I was in the H2O and I could hear the screams and yells of two needy beasties coming from the former dining room/current romper room. I know the DH is perfectly capable of tending to them on his own for ten minutes or so, but they aren’t so sure, especially in the evenings, when they are tired and twitchy. I then hear the slap slap of little hands as they crawl up the stairs towards the bathroom, boo hoo-ing all the while. When they realized the door was shut, oh, the wailing and gnashing of teeth began! So, I got out of the tub, let them in, got back into the tub and since they love the water, they insisted on getting in with me. (Good thing my DH took their clothes off first.) That night I went to bed with some shampoo still in my hair. Ick.

Or the times when I am sitting on the bed in the nursery, setting up the pillows and the double Boppy (registered trade mark) in order to tandem nurse. Yay!! She’s getting ready to nurse us! Come on! Race ya! They leap onto the bed, crawl up towards me faster than you can say knife, and climb all over me, cackling and screeching, as I am trying to get organized so I can nurse them both in comfort. Comfort for me and them, you see.

Then, there are the times when I am attempting to prepare the evening meal. Being a former chef and graduate of Le Cordon Bleu Ecole de Cuisine, I tend to be particular about what I eat, especially at home where I have total control over the ingredients. (Once I told this to some one who replied – “Oh, I am a fussy eater too! I have never tasted ketchup, and I will only eat Oscar Mayer hotdogs.” I could have replied in turn – “Oh really? I’ll bet you get really ticked when they run out of your “fussy-guy” flavor of Pop Tarts at the local Piggly Wiggly.” Never tasted ketchup indeed! I’ll bet he thinks Red Lobster to be the height of style and fashion…) So, there I am, standing next to my cutting board, chopping up eggplant (fresh from the garden!) for ratatouille, and all the while, two strong willed and strong limbed little fellas are yanking on me as hard as they can. They have succeeded in pulling off my pants on occasion. Kind of makes dicing shallots a little risky.

They just want to be held, ALL THE TIME. That’s where the Maya wrap (registered trademark) comes in handy. If the DH is holding them, they are okay, but if they see me holding the other one – the green eyed monster rears its head – and they’ll shriek – “Pick ME up too, mama!” Or that what I interpret – “Yahh, mamamamamamama eek yelp!” to mean.

However, it is really good to be so loved and needed. (And I have fabulous muscles in my arms, too.)