A little story about keys.

I drafted this a while ago and then got so busy I forgot to post it, so there you go.

So, the name of the blog changed a while ago. I don't know if you noticed. I'm not sure if it is a temporary change or not. I guess it will depend on whether my children fry anymore of my already scarce braincells in the future. I don't mind the slow depletion of this resource--braincells--except, it's just that sometimes they come in handy, those braincells.

I didn't feel like I had to change the blog name simply because Stuart threw my flip flop in the toilet. Those type of things are becoming noticeably typical at our house lately. I changed the name to include the crazy mother part because of dear sweet Alison.

I, for just a few days, felt like I had this whole mothering twins thing figured out. I had even gone to lunch with a coworker of Ryan's who is expecting twins and told her things like, "The first 6 months is hard but these days it is just fun," and "at first you'll feel like you are so overwhelmed and inadequate that you shouldn't even be alone with your kids--but you'll figure it all out and things will come naturally." Well, not even 2 hours later I got a good healthy dose of humility. As it turns out, I still shouldn't be left alone with my kids.

Buckling in two 11 month twins into carseats takes a suprisingly long time. I had already put in the diaper bag, which contained most of my house, including my cell phone and wallet. After herding the devilish duo to the door, I grabbed little Alison and put her in her carseat. She cried--probably because it is a million zillion degrees hot in the car--I'd cry too. So I grabbed Stuart, locked my house door and let Alison play with my keys while I buckled Stuart into his seat. I shut the door and I'm walking around the back of the car to the driver's side to retrieve my keys and go when I hear dadaCLICK. Locked. I don't have keys to the car or the house. I don't even have a cell phone to call anybody or an wallet to provide the police who I'm certain will want to cart me away for neglect. They are locked in my million zillion degree hot car with the twins. So I think (thank goodness I have preserved a few small braincells) and decide I have to leave them there to get help.

I run to a girl in my ward who just had a baby and barge into her peaceful, a new spirit from heaven just arrived peaceful, house and tell her that I am a horrible awful mother that has locked my kids in my sweltering car. I try to call Ryan thinking he could bring me a spare key but get no answer. Her husband, Saint Ben, comes downstairs and figures out whats wrong. He first translates all this into french so his mother who is holding his week old baby can also figure out who this crazy lady missing her brain is that just barged into that peaceful house. Then Saint Ben tells me we need pepsi. PEPSI!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME. I just told you I locked my kids in an oven, do you hear me AN OVEN!!! They are slowly evaporating as we speak and you think that we need pepsi.

So as it turns out, he was right. He calmly had his wife empty the pepsi bottle. It almost went down the sink but Saint Ben still has his braincells and he got out a glass to save it with. Of course, I'm not at all saying his sweet wife is brancell deficient, but she did just have a baby. We ran down to my house which he was able to break into in moments and thereby free my kids from the Subaru. (Maybe I shouldn't be telling everybody on the entire surface of the planet that my house can easily be broken into with a pepsi bottle. Of course, I am moving soon. But really, I also learned a lesson that day about securing your house and we now have an additional humongous locking system, take my word for it.)

I didn't actually take them out of their seats. They were both seated so calmly waiting for me I figured we had better still go to the grocery store. After all, buckling two 11 month twins into carseats takes a suprisingly long time.

Bathroom Humor

So Stuart's favorite place these days is the bathroom. We're still a one bathroom family--and it is one tiny bathroom. However, many times we find the entire family enjoying some together time in that happy little room. Stuart has become especially fond of it. When the babies were little I would put one in their bouncy chair in the middle. It pretty much took up the entire room and one would practically have to lay under the chair for them both to enjoy my company. I would sneak a little peak at them from behind the curtain where I was taking a shower every so often and they would smile. Those blissfull days are LONG over.

They await their bath anxiously.

Stuart watches Dad shower EVERY morning--blinking as the water hits his face. Actually these days the time is spent 50% watching and 50% fighting in a wrestling match with his sister for the best spot to watch Dad. There really isn't enough room for both of them and the shower curtain. Ryan remarked the other day how cold showers have become--drafty with the door and curtain open.

And of course, they also supervise Ryan's shave and other duties. Stuart knows how to open the drawers and happily throws all the items out. The bottom drawer is Ryans. My drawer is the top one; the babies are only 2 ft tall right now, lucky me. "Toilet paper, anyone?"

Getting ready for church is a weekly trial. I thought I had it all figured out when I put Alison in the sink. That was the day she learned to turn on the faucet. She really likes to sit in white porcelain. We found her inside an empty tub the other day. She has found a way to throw herself over--clever girl. Then, the other day I heard the toilet lid close and thought, "Hmmm, that is funny I thought the toilet was already closed." (We've already learned that Stuart views the toilet as his personal splashing water feature, so we had been fairly careful to ALWAYS close the toilet.) I walked to the bathroom expecting to see yet another mound of toilet paper and the TP Master as seen below:

But instead I found this. Naughty or Nice?
I opened the lid and alas, naughty. My flip flop had been carried upstairs for a little swim. Thoughtful child.

We try to keep the bathroom door shut these days.