Blanyet!!!!!!

To really appreciate the following conversation, you must understand that it took place while I was cooking dinner. The Jellyman had just finished a bunch of yard work, and was in the bathroom trying to get cleaned up. Apple and Orange were both screeching in their high chairs, which was actually an improvement, since their previous activity had been screeching and holding on to my legs. Ok, carry on:

Raisin: Mommy, what does blanyet mean?

Me: “Blanyet?” I’m sorry, honey, I don’t understand what you’re saying.

Raisin: Blanyet, Mommy, blanyet. What does it mean?!

Me: Are you saying “blanyet?” Because I have no idea what that means.

Raisin: Yes! Blanyet! Blanyet!

Me: Maybe it would help if you told me where you learned this word. Then maybe I would be able to figure it out.

Raisin: I just made it up.

And that is how my day went. The end.

Stick a Fork In Me, I’m Done

AKA, The Week That Kicked My Ass

AAKA, How You Can Do Everything Right and Still Be Very Wrong

On the good news side, I am now gainfully employed, pending the results of a drug test and criminal background check. As there is nothing to find in either category, I’m feeling pretty good about that.

Also, my friend is legally married and happy. The last time I was in a wedding (my brother’s), Raisin was 4 months old, and I spent the whole day worrying about her, and then fainted during the ceremony. This time I was actually helpful to the bride, and I remembered to eat and drink. Probably also helps that I’m no longer lactating.

Not-so-good-news: This one nap/two nap thing sucks with twins. I mean, it just sucks in general, but evidently it sucks more with twins. On Wednesday, I tried leaving out the morning nap for both Apple and Orange, and it was an unmitigated disaster. By lunch, they were too tired to eat, and both slept fitfully in the afternoon and the next night. Orange MIGHT have been OK if Apple hadn’t woken her up so many times.

Since then, they are both back to two naps, and that’s working for now, but I realize that I’m going to have to deal with the reality that Orange may be ready before Apple, and I won’t have the nice neat option of having them sleep at the same time anymore.

And, finally, Raisin got hurt goofing around with the Jellyman at the wedding reception, so we are now the family with the screaming, bleeding kid. Everyone was very nice about it, and she’s going to be fine. Still, not exactly the way the evening was meant to end.

I should be proud of us for making it through this week, for everything we managed to do. Instead, all I am is tired. Too tired to deal yet with the next big problem, which is this blog and whether I made a big mistake by moving back here and putting up the ads.

Stay tuned, I guess.

This Week

Why, darling daughter Orange, have you chosen this week to be maybe sort of unsure if you really need two naps? This week, with its job interviews, my best friend’s wedding on Saturday, and the visit from your Grandpa (who is, to be fair, the World’s Easiest Houseguest, but he is still your Grandpa and I like to leave him with the impression that his beloved grandchildren live in an environment that is at least occasionally clean).

GO TO SLEEP. Or, if you’re going to be awake, be happy about it. Thank you. Love, Mommy.

We’ve Come a Long Way

It’s a cute story, but it also struck me how different life is for a child born in 2004 (in the US) than for one born in 1950 or even in 1978.

On Friday, the Jellyman took Raisin to urgent care. She had complained of a sore throat that was getting worse instead of better, but it’s impossible to get an appointment at our clinic the same day unless you call first thing in the morning.

I attempted to prepare her for the experience by explaining that she was going to see a doctor, but it would be a new one instead of Dr. F. “OK,” she said, “when I see the new doctor, I’ll tell her my throat hurts.”

Sensing trouble coming, I pointed out that the new doctor might even be a man. She seemed puzzled, but she didn’t say anything else until she and the Jellyman were in the waiting room.

When she brought it up again, the Jellyman said she was worried about having a boy doctor. Would he do a good job? Would he be nice? Finally the Jellyman said, “You know, Raisin, D (the husband of a college friend) is a doctor.”

“NO! D’s a DOCTOR!? I didn’t know that!!!!”

That eased Raisin’s mind, and we all got a good chuckle, especially D’s wife when I told her about it. But it struck me later — Raisin had absolutely no concept that a man could be a doctor. Her perspective is the complete reverse of the assumptions that existed for our mothers, and really even for us.

When progress sometimes seems so slow, it’s comforting to see how far behind us the starting line lies.

Superpowers

It’s funny that the Secret Awesome etc. etc. had the Superpower challenge, because last night I had the idea for a post on the same topic. It’s not about me, though, it’s about the super things my kids can do.

Obviously, my children are incredible in many, many ways, but they do each have one unique ability that goes beyond everyday brilliance.

Apple’s is the funniest: Nuk radar. If there is a pacifier anywhere in the house within his reach, he will find it. Under the couch? Not a problem. Behind the crib? He’ll get there. Two rooms away in Orange’s mouth? By the time Mommy figures out where he’s going, he’ll have two Nuks and Orange will be crying. It’s astounding to watch.

Raisin’s is a more subtle gift, probably because she has honed it with 2 extra years of experience. Since she was a baby, she has charmed everyone in her life. She can negotiate her way into or out of anything she puts her mind to, except with her mean mom and dad.

And Orange? Orange has these:

Job-Hunting Sucks

Especially when it’s limited to part-time, preferably with hours that don’t conflict with your husband’s day job. There is a very good chance I’ll end up in red and khaki (which admittedly is preferable to a royal blue vest*).

Another potential problem: after a full day explaining to Raisin why Saturday comes after Friday and how I am getting older and won’t ever be a baby again, my brain is very, very tired. Does anybody know someone who will pay me to watch Survivor and House?

*The Jellyman has just informed me that they don’t wear vests anymore. Not that I would know that, since I haven’t darkened Wal-Mart’s door in years.

Fickle

I am going back to blogging over here, with some changes.  Chief among them: ads, and more posts.

I have neither the talent nor the inclination to turn blogging into a business.  Nevertheless, we are changing a lot of things in the Fruit household in order to shore up our financial situation, and I can’t ignore the possibility that somebody someday might want to click an ad on that site, and maybe I’ll get a check in the mail.

I AM resolving to post more, and to stop lurking and comment elsewhere.  Ignore the ads if you want, but please don’t stop commenting.  None of this is worth it to me if it means losing any of the wonderful people who visit here. 

We’ll see how this goes.  Not much has changed at Blogger since I decided I liked WordPress better, so it’s entirely possible I’ll be back here in 3 months. 

Like I said, fickle.

Amen

Today I saw a bumper sticker that said, “January 20, 2009: End of an Error.”

I want the person driving that car to be my best friend.

It Can’t Be The Weirdest Thing A Kid Has Ever Swallowed…

I am fairly certain that Apple swallowed a googly eye yesterday.  I put out the Halloween decorations, and it did not occur to me that the glue on the ghost I made in 1988 might not be all that strongly bonded anymore.

When we found Apple, he had one eye in his mouth, which we removed post haste.  The other eye hasn’t been spotted.  I eagerly await the moment when it stares up at me from his diaper.  It’ll be a fitting punishment for my dumbassiness.

Observation

Having multiples is something like what it must be like to be left-handed*.  It’s not that you can’t do what you need to do, but nothing is quite designed for you.  And your hand is always smudged (although in the case of twins, it’s less likely to be ink).

Obstacle #1: The Mall.  I thought I was decently well-informed on issues for people with disabilities.  My mother-in-law uses a walker, and occasionally a wheelchair, and she keeps me in the loop on what’s acceptable and what’s not.  Now that I need a stroller to go anywhere on my own, I see that I really knew nothing.  Example: what good to me is a sidewalk cutout that does not lead to an entrance that is accessible?  And I am going to have this problem, probably, for about two years – from the time Apple and Orange outgrew the bucket carseats until they are walking well enough to ditch the stroller.  For someone who lives their life in a wheelchair, this kind of thing must be infuriating.

Obstacle #2: Target.  Or rather, my fellow Target shoppers.  My beloved SuperTarget bought new carts not long after Apple and Orange were born, and they have a decent-sized stock of carts that seat three kids.  I sometimes have to drive around the parking lot for a while until I find one, but one is always available when we need it.  (It is things like this that make it impossible to quit you, Target!)

But, my dear fellow Bullseye lovers, my children do not want to sit in your kid’s leftover lollipop, or in your spilled coffee.  As Target faithful, we really are like family, right?  Respect the carts, people.

Obstacle #3: Kindermusik, etc.  Infant classes, from music to swimming to My Child Is A Genius Who Already Speaks Spanish or whatever, are uniformly designed for parent-child interaction.  Which is as it should be, but what am I supposed to do?

Every class we’ve looked at doesn’t work — the time conflicts with preschool, or it’s too late in the evening for us, or we don’t have childcare for Raisin, or only one of us would be able to go, so only one twin could attend at a time or…..  Blah.  It’s driving me nuts, partly because it was so easy when Raisin was a baby, and I’m feeling guilty about all the things Apple and Orange haven’t gotten to try yet.

*What are the odds that all three of my kids will be left-handed?  The Jellyman is, and I’m not, but all three of them seem to prefer their left hands.  I know it’s too early to tell with Apple and Orange, but it’s weird, right?