Tough Crowd (Part 2)

On with our story...

So, I'm sitting on the couch feeding Leah and Riley, thinking that maybe the worst is over. Suddenly, without warning, Riley starts screaming her head off again after only eating about an ounce of her bottle. And once again, she screams loud enough to startle our scaredy-cat Leah, so now both babies are crying their eyes out again. I frantically cycle Riley through various forms of prospective entertainment in an attempt to appease her. Playmat -- doesn't work. Exersaucer -- doesn't work. Bouncy chair with pacifier in her mouth -- that doesn't work. Lying her on the ground while waving the little bird toy over her head -- the freaking piece de resistance of my Riley bag of tricks -- guess what, it doesn't work.

I place Riley on the floor on her belly, which is sometimes known to calm her down. I watch as Riley immediately executes a beautiful roll on to her back. I try to congratulate Riley, but she's not in the mood to hear it. Actually, the fact that she abruptly finds herself on her back instead of her tummy seems to have disoriented her, and now all of a sudden, she's more panicked than ever. Meanwhile, Leah realizes that her daddy has been completely ignoring her for the past few minutes, and so she let's out a mighty yawp of protest just to remind me that I have more than one daughter.

I look at the clock. It's been eight minutes since the babies woke up. What the hell? Has time frozen or something?

The final thing left to try is the Jumperoo. Our Jumperoo is in the kitchen, at the other end of the house, so using it involves grabbing Leah, sprinting to the other end of the house, putting Leah in the Jumperoo, then sprinting back to the other end of the house, picking up Riley, sprinting to the other end of the house again, and putting Riley in a high chair. I am now getting a serious workout. In her high chair, Riley continues crying until I start leaping up and down in front of her. If I stop leaping for a second, Riley starts crying again. So, of course, I keep on leaping like an idiot for the next ten minutes. Sweat starts to bead on my forehead and my legs begin to burn, but dammit, it's worth it, because the babies aren't crying anymore.

Actually, the babies are kinda diggin' it. Leah's jumping around and squealing. Riley is laughing her ass off, probably amused at what a doofus her dad is. I actually haven't seen them simultaneously this happy in a long, long time. Life is good.

Just as I start thinking that this parenting thing isn't so hard, Leah suddenly stops jumping around and gets a very serious look on her face. And I know what that means. I think all the parents reading this know what that means. Leah is about to poop.

As Leah grunts away, I start to weigh my options. I could go change Leah in the other room, but that means leaving Riley in the kitchen, where she will almost certainly start bawling again. Or I could leave Leah in the Jumperoo stewing in her own poo until Riley goes to bed and hope that Leah doesn't start crying again. It's kind of a no-win situation. It's like Sophie's Choice.

The thought of Leah stewing in her poo is too much for me, so I change her and leave Riley in the kitchen. I set a personal speed record for diaper changing, and when I get back, Riley is miraculously not crying. However, all the joy has now drained from her face. She basically looks like a bored high school student sitting in detention.

I try to revive the pre-poop joy, but it is not to be. I struggle through the next half hour, holding and feeding one of the babies while the other one fusses, and then switching to the other one, and then back to the first one, and then back to the second one. And then back to the first one.

But I somehow make it through. At 7:30 pm, both babies are sleeping, and I am still standing, dammit. They did not break me.

The end. Roll credits.

Sorry for the long story. I have no idea if that was the least bit interesting to you all, but it at least gives you some idea of what it's like to be one person taking care of two five-month-old twins. I don't know if there are any pearls of wisdom that readers can take away from that story, but I can tell you that the next time I take care of the twins at night by myself, I'm sure as hell going to make sure I know where their pajamas are before they wake up.

And now, some pictures of Leah and Riley's first adventures with solid food, from this weekend. That didn't go so well, either, but that's another story.