Up in the Air

So, the big story in our lives right now is that next week we're going on our very first plane trip with the girls. And no wimpy little 1-hour flight to LA or Reno or Las Vegas for us, we're going all in -- that's right, 6-hours, SFO to JFK, baby! Awwww yeah!

Kathy and I are -- how shall I put it -- petrified. We're talking nightmare-inducing fear. I know, we're capable adults here -- the thought of sitting in a chair with our beautiful daughters in our laps for six hours should not strike fear and dread into our hearts. And yet.

The secret to flying with your toddlers, I believe, is to not give a rat's ass about the fact that your screaming children are disturbing the poor unfortunate person sitting next to you. I mean, if you don't care about disturbing people, you're pretty much home free, right? I mean, if I had to be trapped at home on the couch with the girls for 6 hours for some reason and there was no one else around, it would be kinda unpleasant and all, but it would hardly be the stuff of nightmares.

My problem is that I do give a rat's ass about the person next to me. I wish I didn't, but I do. When we're at a restaurant and my daughters are playing "Let's See Who Can Bang Their Spoon on the Table the Loudest" and the people at the table next to us look annoyed, I give a rat's ass. When the girls throw their toys and they end up under those people's table and one of them hands them back to me with an icy smile, I, unfortunately, give a rat's ass.

If there were a not-giving-a-rat's-ass pill I could take right before the flight, I would take it. Actually, come to think of it, there are lots of not-giving-a-rat's-ass pills out there, but they're probably not very conducive to, ya know, watching over your children.

Besides the whole screaming baby disturbing everyone on the plane issue, I also find myself very worried about the little logistical things. Like, Kathy's going to have Leah on her lap and I'm going to have Riley on my lap, and we're going to be seated across the aisle from each other. So what do I do when I have to pee? Do I have to take Riley into that tiny bathroom with me? Do I leave her in the seat and let her fend for herself for awhile? Do I put her in Leah's lap? On Kathy's shoulders? And how do I grab something from your bag under the seat when I've got a baby in my lap? Am I going to be accidentally bonking Riley's head against the seat in front of us over and over and over? The dilemmas are endless.

We'll survive, I suppose. Nobody ever spontaneously burst into flames because their children disturbed a bunch of people on a plane. At least I've never heard of that happening.

And as my girls scream their heads off while 30,000 feet in the air, I'll have the comfort of knowing that at least I get to write about this later in my blog.

Wicked Game

When you have infant twins, one of the things you have to remind yourself over and over is that this is all supposed to get easier once the girls get a little older. When the girls get older, they start playing together, and when they start playing together, they can entertain themselves, and when they entertain themselves, mommy and daddy can just relax and watch their daughters adoringly from the couch while they sip a cup of tea, eat bon bons, and read the Sunday paper. Or that's my vision anyway. Go with me here.

We haven't quite achieved the dream, but we do see some early signs of our daughters actually playing together. In fact, they have started developing their own games:

Game #1: Ready, Set, Guk!

• Riley drinks from her green cup for 15 seconds. Leah drinks from her pink cup for 15 seconds.
• Riley stops drinking, points to Leah's pink cup and says "Guk!"
• Riley grabs Leah's pink cup with one hand and holds out her green cup in front of Leah with the other hand.
• Leah smiles and grabs the green cup.
• They drink for 15 seconds.
• Riley stops drinking, points to Leah's green cup and says "Guk!"
• Repeat until bored.
  

Two of the games result from the fact that Leah likes to put things into their containers, while Riley likes nothing better than taking things out of their containers:

Game #2: Circle o' Blocks

• Riley takes block out of canister and throws it on the ground.
• Leah picks block up off the ground and puts it in the canister.
• Riley takes block out of canister and throws it on the ground.
• Repeat until bored.
  

Game #3: Baby or No Baby

• Leah puts a baby doll in her toy stroller.
• Leah gets ready to push her stroller around the room, but meanwhile Riley walks over to Leah's stroller, grabs the baby, and throws it on the ground.
• Repeat until Leah manages to push the stroller before Riley takes out the baby, or until a fight breaks out, or until Leah gets distracted by something bouncy or shiny or loud.
  

And then of course, there is Game 4, which is a bathtime game:

Game 4: Mwah!

• Leah leans her head toward Riley, opens her mouth and says "Ahhhhhh" for a couple seconds
• Riley gets the hint and leans her head toward Leah, and one of the following things happen:

1. They plant a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on each other, and then say "mwah!"
2. They miss each other entirely but say "mwah!" while almost face-planting into the water.
3. They bonk heads.
   

Here's some video footage of the Mwah game, for the few people in the world that my wife has not yet sent it to:



Okay, so the games aren't exactly "Settlers of Cataan" in their level of sophistication, but, hey, the entertainment level is fairly high. And their games teach values like sharing, persistence, and cooperation, unlike the games that Leah invented this weekend called "Let's Stick Our Finger in Daddy's Eye Over and Over" and "It's Fun to Slap Daddy Across the Face".

Caught Off-Balance

One of the things Kathy and I are always struggling with is trying to balance our attentions between the two girls. After all, parents are supposed to love their kids exactly equally and therefore Kathy and I should each be spending exactly 50.00% of our attention on Leah and exactly 50.00% of our attention on Riley. If we don’t, well that’s just bad parenting.

By this scale, Kathy and I are pretty crappy parents. I would estimate that Kathy spends, say, 72% of her attention on Leah and I spend about 72% of my attention on Riley. I’m not quite sure how or when this started, but this is where we find ourselves now.

There are a bunch of reasons for the imbalance. The first and most important is that, basically, I’m just better at entertaining Riley, and Kathy’s just better at entertaining Leah. Riley’s a pretty fun-loving adventurous girl who likes to be tossed into the air, swung around wildly by her arms, held upside down – and it just so happens that these things happen to be daddy’s bread and butter. Mommy - not so much. Unfortunately for me, Leah’s a big ol’ scaredy cat right now. She kinda likes observing Riley being tossed into the air, but if daddy tries to toss Leah into the air, she starts making this weird, nervous sound that wavers between a laugh and a cry for a few seconds and then, if daddy doesn’t stop, dissolves into full-blown cry.

What Leah does like is the cuddle, and while daddy is fully willing to cuddle with her, his cuddling credentials are no match for mommy, who is an Olympic-caliber cuddler, at least in Leah’s eyes. Leah wants to cuddle with mommy when she wakes up, before she goes to sleep, whenever she hurts herself, whenever Riley takes away her toy, whenever she’s tired, whenever she’s sick, whenever she’s bored – you get the picture. And in these situations, daddy’s pretty darn useless to her --- meaning that daddy’s pretty darn useless to her most of the time.

It’s kind of a self-perpetuating cycle. Leah demands most of Kathy’s attention, so Kathy spends less time with Riley, which means that Riley prefers to spend time with me, which means I pay less attention to Leah, which reinforces Leah’s mommy preference. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

So, how to get back into balance? Maybe daddy should wear extra-soft and squishy clothes to enhance his cuddle appeal?

Or maybe balance is overrated. Every kid’s got a favorite parent, right? Maybe we’re just lucky that both kids don’t have the same favorite parent, because, boy, it can be pretty hard to toss both kids in the air at the same time. I mean, I can juggle tennis balls and bean bags and all, but I haven’t tried juggling 17 month-old girls before. And I’m pretty sure Kathy wouldn’t be too keen on me trying it.