It begins. I can hear my two year old screaming down the hall for me. Good thing we bought her that alarm clock that turns green at 6:45 a.m. to tell her it’s okay to wake up. I mean, she does stay in bed (so mission technically accomplished), but only so she can scream “Mommmm, it’s not green yet!” repeatedly for 15 minutes until it is, in fact, green. My five year old remains completely asleep and unphased by her screaming. God bless that boy. Let’s start the day.
The screams for a green light change to waffle chants, because mom still hasn’t figured out a way to make the toaster toast faster. One diaper change and one waffle cut up into 20 pieces later, that beautiful coffee pot fills up. Get the milk, get the sug— MOM, ITS HOT. BLOW ON MY WAFFLE. “Got it baby, here you go. It’s not hot anymore.” Okay, so where was I? Get the sugar, assemble coffee. HI MOM, CAN I HAVE MILK? “Hey bud, you’re finally up! Your milk is in the fridge.” (Placed there last night, in his favorite cup, not the Spiderman cup because that one is his favorite, but only for water, but his blue cup, you know, the cool one that is also the biggest so he gets the most milk out of it– obviously.) He got the milk and is happy with the cup choice. First crisis averted. Killing it, mom. Sip that coffee.
Kids are fed and seemingly happy. They’re sitting on the couch together, which will probably lead to someone’s foot wandering near the other and causing a blow up. Let’s see how this plays out. Did I ever drink my coffee? Where’d that go? Reheat coffee. BUBBA, NO! A foot wandered. Try to calmly ask one kid to move to the chair, get shut down, offer up my “special” chair (the one I’m currently sitting in)– now currently sitting with both kids on my lap in 1 chair a fourth of the size of the couch they couldn’t share. Mom’s lap has no limits, clearly…
Cuddle session’s over because someone had to use the bathroom… with the door open might I add. I wonder if there’s a world record I could break for consecutive times used without shutting the door? Just kidding. Somewhere a mom with twins definitely has me beat. Happy squeals come from the play room for the first time. Pass the playroom nonchalantly with some laundry in hand to not raise suspicion that I’m watching them. Both have stickers on their foreheads, and are giggling uncontrollably. I am the greatest mom ever. Sip coffee in delight. Okay, that’s freezing. Reheat coffee.
IS IT NAP TIME YET? Twenty games of hide and seek later, and mom is actually considering doing laundry so she can rest.
Four organized piles of whites, darks, lights, and reds actually begins to look like one huge drop zone when they’re placed right next to the couch– for future reference. I’m sure nothing will go wrong with them jumping off the couch. Whatever, if it keeps them preoccupied while I make lunch, so be it.
Three separate plates ready to go — two with mac and cheese (their favorite) and one with salad. MOM, WHAT DO YOU GOT? Mom, that looks super yummy. Can I just have one bite? MOM I WANT A BITE, TOO! One bite for each before I begin shoveling down as many bites as I can before they ask for that inevitable second (and third… and eighth) bite. Someone please start selling The Mom Plate™ – the plate where all food looks and tastes better. You can give me my cut of the fortune later.
Prepare for war.. I mean, uh nap time.
Four stories and 10 trips in and out of the bedroom (per kid) later and I think they’re napping. Or at least being quiet. Possibly arranging every single stuffed animal into an elaborate pattern but I’ll take it. There is laundry to be done.
The Netflix show I promised I’d watch just one of before I started laundry turned into three somehow… again… as I ate the kid’s leftover mac and cheese… again. No laundry done, no remorse about it. Good news though, found my unfinished coffee in the microwave when I went to reheat the mac and cheese.
Both kids miraculously napped, and even more miraculously, woke up in great moods. The next three hours until dad’s home should be cake. “Do you guys want to go to the park?” They both give me an overwhelming YEAH! Seriously, being a mom is the best. I can’t believe this is my life. One loads up in the stroller and one hops on the bike. “Let’s go!” Can I shut the garage door? NO I WANNA SHUT IT. “Here you shut it now, then you can open it on the way back.” I WANNA SHUT IT. Why does she get to shut it first! So then one shuts it, then I open it again, then the other shuts it, then we compromise that the person that shut it last will get to open it first on the way back… This mom gig is insane. I can’t believe this is my life.
Fifteen minutes into playing, I unload the stroller, unload my blanket, set out drinks and snacks, and watch my five year old wiggle around. Oh no. “Do you have to use the bathroom?” YUPP. Pack up the snacks, fold up the blanket, load up the stroller, and cram three people into a dirty stall while I plead with my two year old (unsuccessfully) not to touch anything.
ONE MORE HOUR. You’ve got this. “So what do you guys want to do?” Can we just watch Spongebob? Never in my whole life has Spongebob sounded so good. Sit on the couch, one kid on each side (you’d think this is a cute image, but really I’m just being a completely necessary barrier), and watch Plankton try and fail over and over. Plankton, I feel ya.
DADDY! Sound the trumpets and release the balloons. “Hey honey, how was your day?” Oh, you don’t even kn… It was the best, dad. We played hide and seek, and I stuck stickers all over sister, and we went to the park, and Brooklyn touched everything in the bathroom and mom was so mad. It was so funny. What’s for dinner? Can we have some salad? Mom’s was so good. Want to watch Spongebob with us?
Yea, what he said.