I NEED A DRINK!!!

In the name of all that is good and decent, what a freegoan CRAZY NUTSO day!

We both need to go vaccuum now because all the hair we both pulled out today is all over the STINKING floor!

Okay. Let's walk through, shall we?

Twins had their 2 month checkup today. But Steph also had a dental appointment today at the same time. Which meant that I had to load all the kids into the car, take the big girls to B&K's so they could play with J&M while I took the twins to the doctor.

No big deal, everyone was good (more on the checkup later) but it made for a wild morning, and of course trying to explain what's happening to Mari who has a memory like a food processor (as in, you put in nice fresh pieces of information and she mashes them up into goo or paste) is always trying.

So the first sign of the disasters to come was when I attempted to carry the twins into the doctor's office, with the diaper bag on my shoulder. Of course the diaper bag slipped off and, oh, sort of landed on Robby's head. No big deal, little scratch. Didn't even cry. Maybe he was stunned.

They both were great at the appointment, but at the 2 month checkup, the babies are pincushions. 4 shots each, and an oral rotovirus vaccination. And the doctor was out of the infant's Tylenol he usually gives us to help them with the pain and soreness. No biggie, I'll just dose them up when we get home. So they scream bloody murder during the shots then get sleepy, as Faith and Mari always did too. No big deal, I come home.

Get home, give the babies their medicine to help them feel better, throw together lunch for the girls, and before long, I hear the van pull up and the sound of Mari in pure meltdown mode. She comes stumbling up to the door, Steph gives me that "Yep" look and says "She lost her milk privilege."

Now, this may sound strange to some. But one of our challenges with Mari has always been finding something she values enough to get her attention by the threat of losing it. Most things she just doesn't show enough interest in to make that kind of thing effective. And yes, I know we should try to do more positive reinforcement, but any parent knows that in the heat of the moment stuff flies out of your mouth and you sometimes talk yourself into a corner. So every so often, we end up having to take away her milk. She loves her milk. Always has. Would probably drink a gallon a day if she could. Long after she was done with bottles, we still had to give her a sippy cup of milk every night before bed. So of course, Mari was a mess at lunch.

At any rate, the story was, Mari started whining and crying as soon as Steph got to B&K's because she didn't want to leave yet. Steph gave her more chances than she would normally get to get herself under control on the way home, and so...NO MILK FOR YOU!!!

Okay. Next item. Steph starts asking about the appointment, looks at the vaccination records and says, "Didn't they get the rotovirus vaccination?" And my jaw drops. Our wonderful pediatrician (seriously, he's great - we go to the office farther away so he can be the kids' primary) forgot to order it, and I (being the dumb dad) forgot about it while holding my children down for their 8 other shots. So we call the doctor's office and they're great, they'll get us into the office closer to us at 1:30.

Fine, except that I DESPERATELY need to mow the lawn. It's been like 2 weeks at least, it's embarassing and we're pretty sure that the reason the dogs have been going in the house a lot more lately is that the grass is literally too tall for them to go out there. So I'm gonna need to mow while the girls are inside, hopefully sleeping. No problem with Mari, but Faith likes to come out 5 times with this that and the other problem just because she doesn't want to sleep.

So I explain to Faith that I'll be mowing the lawn and if there are any small problems she can take care of it herself...if she has to go potty, wipe herself and go back to bed, etc, etc...And that if there is a real, serious problem, she should come find me...but if she comes to get me and there is not a really serious problem, she's going to be in big trouble, blah blah blah.

I start the lawn. Get the back done. Start on the front. Suddenly, there's Faith in the doorway. I take a deep breath, turn off the mower and go find out what's wrong. Faith has 'leaked' in the bed. And long story short (because this kind of thing has happened before) she did it on purpose so she could come out and tell me that something was wrong.

So I go in, probably yell more than I should (but at the same time there's a line here that Faith needs to know about even if she can't quite understand it yet) strip the sheets off our bed (she naps in our room since Mari won't nap unless she's by herself) change Faith, and send her into her room where Mari isn't sleeping anyway.

Steph comes home, I explain the situation then go finish the lawn. Come back in, and as God is my witness, I decide to tell Faith the story of the Boy Who Cried Wolf...which is just too ironic since we've been making a million 'wolf' jokes since the Great Wolf Lodge. Have no idea if Faith got it but I made the effort.

ANYWAY, Steph then tells me that at the doctor's office, Hannah basically spit up most of her vaccine and that the carseat cover is now pretty wet from it. Nice. Meanwhile, it's become quite clear that the twins are extremely uncomfortable and in pain from the shots. Hannah is crazy crying and can't calm down.

Soon after, we realized that we had an errand to run which required us printing out a couple of pages of information. No paper. Scrounged around, found two kind of crumply pieces of paper, good enough. Print one out. Printer out of ink.

Long story short, needed to deliver the papers to Grandma D's house anyway, so I threw everyone into the car, and left Steph to start packing unmolested. On the way there, Mari falls asleep. Then, about 10 minutes later, I see Faith in the rearview mirror messing with Mari's face. Now please understand. If Mari wakes up from a nap before she's ready, she is absolutely inconsolable for about 20 minutes. She can not stop herself from the hysterics. So, once again, probably more than I should (but this time out of sheer incredulousness) I start in on Faith.

Faith's response is to say "I will scream all the way home because you are being nasty to me" and then scream rhythmically every 2 seconds. We work through that and get her calmed down.

Run the errand, Faith falls asleep too. Normally, this would be bad, because it's now about 6pm and if they sleep this late they might not sleep at night. Just this once, I genuinely DO NOT CARE. Accident on the I-275 bridge. Thank God they're sleeping.

Grab dinner and head home. Mari and Faith are both a wreck from their interrupted nap. Mari between howling cries tells us she can't decide whether to eat her burger or her apples first. They didn't give me the dressing for my Southwest Grilled Chicken Salad. To heck with them (this is a family blog so I can't say what I really want to say there - use your imagination). Hannah and Robby are crazy crying in the other room.

Honestly up to this point, neither of us have really had time to realize what a crazy day this has been. Steph and I go in the other room and end up having a really nasty stupid fight about nothing at all. Then I (thinking it will be good therapy and help lighten things up) tell her we should each just tell the other one what's ticking us off most about them. She says something I didn't expect and I get all offended. What a jerk I am.

We go get the girls ready for bed. It is SO bedtime. Somehow while reading books, Steph and I manage to get in another dumb argument. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to us, Robby silently and without fussing, spits up all over himself in the other room...in his carrier...on the couch. Steph soon discovers that it has leaked through, and frantically tries to clean up the couch.

I finish reading to the girls (forgetting of course that Faith was not supposed to have books since she decided to leave her mark on our bed) and go call dad to tell him that we can't set the carseats up in the Suburban tonight, because we have to wash both the covers.

OH FOR CRY YI.

It's still just 9:30 - what else could go wrong tonight? Or is this all a preview of tomorrow - a 4 1/2 hour drive to Cleveland, crammed into a big red Suburban, with Zayde, who will probably have some new excuse for not wearing his hearing aids?

Keep us in your prayers. Pass the salt.

Matt

P.S. Robby is 13lb 1oz and Hannah is 11lb 15oz