Bumper Blues

Okay, I need some advice here, or support of my position, or...something. Anyway, I need to talk to y'all about crib bumpers. After our pediatrician recommended that we remove them now that the babies are pulling themselves up to standing, Brian de-frocked the cribs of their bumpers before bedtime last night and we had one very - crappy - night!

I understand the reasoning: that the bumper can give a baby a few inches in their attempts to get out of the crib. Yet, I haven't seen anyone trying yet. In fact, Ethan, still taller than Emmet, is only eyebrow level with the crib rail at this time. They're only 9 mo old for cry-yi-yi. I think it would require superhuman upperbody strength to catapult out.

What seems more important in the middle of the night is what the bumpers help to contain, and that is BINKIES and tiny limbs. I will not try to impress you with the number of times a mother can be pulled out of bed by a set of twins on the first night sans crib bumpers.

I really, REALLY, really, really want to put the bumpers back on tonight, and every night thereafter, until jr high.
Can I?
Did you?
Can I get an Amen?

My Walking Papers

So it's official. In 60 days, I will no longer be a Harvard employee. Today I received my walking papers. My position is set to terminate. This is no surprise to me: I was lured back to work after the babies were a few months old with the promise of terminating my position (makes it easier for them than having to hire someone to complete the Archive project I work on), and the reward of 10 weeks severance pay. What's more, if I finish the project in less than 60 days, which looks possible, I will still be paid through the end of the notice, plus severence after that. It's a good deal. A great deal. and it's a good thing. Here I am in my office after 5pm, getting some hours filled while Brian puts the babies to bed and we don't need to wrangle a patch job of childcare, in order to do this silly, pointless job that I don't care a flying flip about. And the severance will give me some time to pull together a better balance of work that I do care about: teaching Nia, teaching writing (hell...maybe even DOING some writing). It's a good thing. But after ten years at Harvard, I realized today just how much I've come to define myself by my work here. Getting my walking papers just doesn't feel nearly as freeing as I thought it would.

Twin Tantrums

Okay folks...I was under the impression that tantrums came with toddlers. Not precious little babies. And when exactly do they switch from babies to toddlers? And please, please don't tell me that these fits are going to be part of my daily life for the unforseeable future (because if that is the case, I might start stealing the dog's prozac -- see next post). Why is it starting so soon? They're only 8 months old. And more importantly, when is it going to stop? And MOST importantly, how do I guard against tantrum CONTAGION, which is what we have been experiencing these past few miserable days in the Corey house.

Yesterday, I made the mistake of thinking I could get dinner in the crockpot when I got the second kid down for a late morning nap. I'm not sure what led me to this conclusion, since Emmet only sleeps for 15 minute daytime spurts, unless he is held in my arms. But seeing as I had a good coupla pounds of beef chuck in the fridge and no baby in my arms, I thought I might have enough time to cut it up and brown it -- the only step that requires physical agility when cooking a pot roast in the crock pot. I was wrong. I was very, very wrong.

It's hard to soothe a baby who is shrieking for no apparent reason, while your hands are dripping with raw, red meat. It's much harder to calm two of them. And then there are the dogs who are either shaking in the corner wishing that I would do something to make the screaming stop (or at least get to CVS to fill his prozac perscription), OR sensing my desperation views this moment as the perfect opportunity for a chunk of beef to land right in her panting open mouth if she can continue to wind her body between my feet until I crack. The recipe called for a cup of red wine. I stared down the remainder of that bottle wondering about the consequences of finishing it off at 12:50 in the afternoon. But I wanted to be clear headed for Miles' doggy shrink appointment at 3pm, so I pulled it together.

Today, they are home with Aunt Carol for the first Tuesday of her weekly childcare commitment. I called to see if she was ready to start drinking at this point in the day as well, but she said they had not cried at all. THEY HAVE NOT CRIED AT ALL!!! They're storing it up, waiting for me to get home. They are saving their screams for mommy. How darling!

birth control

It's not that I don't like them, or that I want to give them back. It's just that I don't care to have one or (god forbid) two more. Partially because I've already given away these shirts. And since it seems that my ovaries are inclined to dropping multiple eggs, I've opted to go back on the pill, although I'm not sure it's the best fix, but the nurse practitioner has convinced me that there's no reason not to while one of us decides to step up for the more permanent fix. I started the pill ten days ago, after my second post-natal visit from good ole Aunt Flo, who returns with a nasty vengence, as if she's got a score to settle. Thus another point in favor of the hormonal helper.

Maybe I'm more sensitive to my body now, but I'd say the hormonal side effects are far more pronounced apres twin pregnancy. Just yesterday a teenaged runaway in Harvard Sq called me "Pizza Face." Okay, that's a total lie, but if you saw me, you'd know why I'm so self-conscious. I have zits that hurt. Big ones, deep under the skin. And strange sensations in the breasts, particularly the left, that feels a lot like let down. Did my boobs feel like milk was coming in during my prior years of pill popping and I just had no way of naming the sensation before brest feeding? Add the past five days of extreme break through bleeding and...I think I need someone to remind me why I decided to take this pill again.

Thus the picture. It's not even a strong enough reminder. I need one in which they're BOTH red-faced and screaming!

old men and the sea..er, lake!

Oh screw it, I hate Hemingway anyway: masogynist bastard.
So the boys got their first taste of Lake Winnipesaukee a few weeks ago.
Could these swimsuits be any cuter? Don't they look like little old men? Thanks grammy, for all the baby shopping you do on your lunch hour.

I wish this photo better reflected Ethan's utter glee for aquatics. He shreiked with laughter from the time we entered to the time we exited the lake. Kicking his feet and making a splash never fails to shock and delight him, over and over again. The water has a calming effect on Emmet. Upon submergion he gets super chill, and far too fascination by the environment to look at mommy or daddy or Nana with the camera.

This day also marked their first introduction to Mila, daughter of Tara and grandchild of Gail, my very best Lake friends who I totally grew up with in this very spot where we swam -- at the colony beach, none of us colony members any longer. But after 20-odd years of ownership, we'll always claim squatters rights.



Here on the same beach where Tara and I and all the other kids offered up variety shows for the adults while they sucked down G & T's at 'happy hour," Mila becomes more familiar with the twins. She finds their belly buttons compelling, and will chase both Ethan & Emmet scurrying across the blanket for a chance to poke their navels.

Babies, they're so ... chubby :)

Boogie Footage

So if your missed the Barefoot Boogie with live drumming I organized thanks to the help of Sue Landers, you were in the MAJORITY. I think we had 7 dancers all night -- which was a shame, because the drummers were so unbeliveably good! The few of us who were there danced a little slice of Nia heaven that night. Here's what you missed. Now, promise me you are going to come next time?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1n7duBv7T2g

More on Spirit Mandated Chocolate

Had so much fun with Spirit yesterday that we returned to Cardullo's just now, but not before emptying the change out of my wallet: $2.25 in coins (I left the pennies behind). That's what I had to play with. There were many items to choose from at the $1.99 price point. My pick jumped out at me due to the language on the wrapper:

"Dolfin -- the Art of Blending."

This Belgium company blends chocolate with other exotic flavors, resulting in "sometimes surprising but always harmonius combinations." Dolfin's website promises to deliver "a world of pleasure within reach of your tastebuds." How harmonious is Dolfin to Nia? It's all about the pleasure, baby! And "the art of blending" is so Aikido. This will likely be the inspiration for my class focus tonight. See what I mean about Spirit heloing me get sh*! done?

The variety I chose is called Hot Masala from India. It blends Milk Chocolate with Indian spices that sort of reminds me of chai, or a mild curry heat on the back of the throat, amidst a milky fullness in the front palate.

This is a really good game. I recommend you try it, and post your Spirit Mandated Chocolate findings in the comments section.