Everybody's hungry

Today both my kids were hungry at the exact same time. And there was no putting either one of them off - as I can sometimes do. It had been over two hours since Lincoln ate and he was ready to fill this house with the screams of his milk demands, and Ruby was late for her nap and on the verge of a catastrophic meltdown.

If I fed one and not the other the sounds of the freakout from the one not eating would distract the other and then nobody would eat and then nobody would nap and then I would want to stab myself in the eyes.

I have had a brutal week with the two of them and was ready to do whatever it took to make them both happy.

So, I fed them both at the same time.

Let me clarify...

Lincoln needed to be breastfed. Ruby needed to be spoon fed.

I didn't know I could do it but I suppose desperate times call for desperate measures.

I sat on the couch and leaned forward putting my boob in Lincoln's mouth and while holding it there with one hand I put Ruby's lunch on the table in front of me and had her stand beside me while I spoon fed her with my other hand.

It was a very precarious situation and the slightest of false moves could have aborted the whole operation. But I managed.

I can't believe I managed.

How I am able to pull off this whole gig somedays simply amazes me.

Send help (or vodka)

I am woken up at 7:19am to Ruby crying - as she does every morning. I drag my exhausted ass out of bed and go to her as quickly as possible to prevent her screeching from waking up Lincoln. I walk into her room and cheerfully say "Good morning, Ruby!!"

And she screams at me, "NOOOOO!!!!!!"

After wrestling with her and finally holding her down to change her diaper we head to the kitchen where she demands to be fed yogurt.

By this time Lincoln has heard the ruckus and he is crying. He wants to be fed. At the same time she does. NOW.

I manage to bounce him until I get her yogurt down and give her a granola bar to run around with and smear all over the furniture while I nurse him.

The cup of coffee I made myself to get through the morning sits cold on the counter.

She soon gets bored and comes over with "Darla" (her doll) and sits beside Lincoln and I on the couch. "Darla" then scratches Lincoln in the head with her hard plastic hand. This upsets Lincoln and before I can get Ruby and Darla distracted and removed from the situation (baby attached to my boob), "Darla" headbutts Lincoln.

Lincoln screams. I mean he screams!!!! High pitched, heart wrenching screams. Like I've never heard him scream before and I wonder if he's seriously injured.

In the meantime, Ruby stands and stares at me while she shits in her diaper.

I settle Lincoln and put him in his bouncy chair which is on the kitchen table which is the only place he is safe from Ruby and/or Darla.

I wrestle with Ruby again to change her diaper and barely prevent her from flinging her shitty diaper across the room.

Later I manage to get Ruby to go down for her morning nap and pray that Lincoln will sleep too so I can have some time to myself to reset and recharge. Except Lincoln is fussy today (maybe something to do with the earlier attack from Darla). So I spend Ruby's nap time feeding, changing, bouncing Lincoln.

Normally he might have a nap in his baby swing but it got broken last night.

Before I know it Ruby is awake from her nap and yes... crying.

I interrupt nursing Lincoln to get her up from her nap.

Since it's now noon and Ruby's had little more to eat than a kids yogurt and half a granola bar, I ask her if she is hungry. She tells me "eat!"

Apparently by "eat" she means she'll have 3 bites of lasagna and then chew up and spit out her 4th bite, then pour her sippy cup out all over her highchair. Lunch is over.

Lincoln continues to fuss. He wants to be rocked (Damn, I am missing that swing).

Since I am holding and rocking Lincoln, Ruby stands in front of me with her arms up saying "Mommy knee?? Mommy knee??" If I was able to put Lincoln in the baby swing I could hold her on my knee. Then again, if Lincoln was in the baby swing she wouldn't want to be on my knee. When I explain to her that I can't pick her up right now she decides to empty out her toy box. She does it by staring at me and removing each toy then holding it high above her head and then SMASHING it to the hardwood floor. Toy, by, toy.

I decide that I need to get us out of the house for some fresh air and exercise. It is then that I realize that Steve has driven our only vehicle to work and left the stroller in the back of it.

I'm trapped in my house with a fussy 2 month old and a renegade toddler.

This computer has now been unplugged 6 times.

Wheels

Remember all that identity crisis stuff I was going through when I traded in my Jeep Wrangler and bought the station wagon? How I felt so good that time when I was driving around in the station wagon all alone with the tunes cranked and the windows down until I remembered I was driving a station wagon and then I rolled up the windows and cried all the way home?

Well somewhere along the line I became "ok" (resigned) with the station wagon.

And then Lincoln surprised us all and suddenly with two kids under two, two car seats, a tall husband and a double stroller... that station wagon quickly became too small.

I started asking Steve if we could get a minivan. Yes, I was ASKING for one.

I talked to a few people about it and everyone was really freaked out and opposed to even the thoughts of a van. A few people even made fun of me. Everyone suggested we get a crossover or some sort of SUV. And I looked into that, I did. But I found that the smaller, more affordable SUVs had little more room than we already had in the station wagon. And the SUVs that would meet my needs were huge and since neither Steve nor myself are high level drug lords, they weren't something we could afford.

It took a little convincing to get Steve to agree to the minivan. But with the back seat full of car seats - Lincoln's being rear facing - the front passenger seat had to be pushed all the way forward. And any time we went somewhere and Steve had himself a few cold ones, he found himself riding in the passenger seat. At 6'2" his knee caps were almost touching the windshield.

And so we headed out this weekend minivan shopping - which incidentally I don't recommend with two very young children because although I thought any salesman would take pity on us and give us a smoking deal, the fact is that by the time I found what I wanted I would have agreed to any deal - good, bad or otherwise - because I was so on edge waiting for the next meltdown, tantrum or feeding session.

Anyway, after a full day in and out of dealerships and test driving and signing and signing and signing paper after paper. This bad boy now resides in my driveway...

You know? I love it. I feel none of the ego busting self pity that I felt with the station wagon. In fact I feel even better now than I did driving the station wagon. Maybe it's the black on black. Or the sweet stereo for me to listen to my loud, raucous music. Or the feeling of being up high when I'm driving. Or maybe it's just the relief of not having to drive home from the grocery store with my groceries piled on my lap.

Or maybe I've just arrived at the point in my life where I don't give a fuck what other people think and I'm just happy to have something we all fit comfortably in.

Also it's nearly brand spanking new which is a bonus.

Whatever it is, I like it. I'm cool with it.

And I'm dying to go on a road trip.