Rant

(Take 2)

So I'm finishing my breakfast and starting the second spelling quiz of the morning when someone points out that #12 is without diaper. He is, in fact, completely naked, which is part of the problem. He has reached that marvelous and unavoidable age at which one removes one's diaper at will. He does this whether it is a cloth or disposable, which it was in this case because he was sporting a rather sore bum last night so I decided to lay the vaseline on pretty thick before bedtime.

I proceed to the foyer, which is where all stately manors such as ours keep their changing tables, completely covered with used, unprocessed bum genii, and am dismayed to observe what appears to be a Hansel and Gretel style convention site, with little piles of what I wrongly presume to be bread crumbs as far as the eye can see (and I have a pretty long foyer).

Alas! I was mistaken, and they are not breadcrums but the scattered guts of the previously discarded diaper, courtesy of the dog (why do we have him?).

(This is about where I deleted my first attempt at this blog entry a few minutes ago.)

There is a complete circle of diaper shrapnel from my large stately foyer through my extra large living room, and then on through the dining room and kitchen. This includes some carpeted floor, but as anyone who has ever cleaned up one of those nightmares can attest to, it makes precious little difference when you are cleaning it up - it doesn't sweep up off of hard floor or carpet. It doesn't clean up at all. It doesn't dry out, doesn't wipe up, doesn't evaporate, doesn't absorb. It is there forever.

Yes, my house smells like pee.

In other news, I think all mothers with twins, Irish, adopted or genuine, ought to also receive a temporary set of go-go-gadget arms for the express purpose of breaking up fights over the younger baby's pacifier or a contested bottle of milk or whatever other article they are disputing.

#11 has put toothpaste in her eyes twice this week. One of the 'twins' is on the kitchen table nearly all the time. There is toothpaste virtually all over the house.

Having closely spaced siblings, the new baby is always in the most danger from the child immediately preceeding him or her. I am learning this is doubly so with two preceeding. If they come upon the baby in his bed or otherwise unarmed, they start looking around for things he might need. Like a blanket the dog pooped on. Or several stuffed animals. Or a car. Or a pencil.

We do not have a swing or a bouncy seat or a bumpo. For one thing, it puts the baby in a very vulnerable position for the toddler(s) to kill or maim him. (Yes, I know I can teach them not to do that, but frankly, I'm not that good of a mother.)

The other reason we don't have those objects is that we don't really need them. We have people literally waiting in line to hold the new person. "I'm next in line," is what they say. Rarely does a newbie get to sleep out a whole nap in his bed without someone needing to snuggle him. We cherish the babies. (Of course, as I race to finish this, New Guy is screaming in the next room waiting for me . . ., never mind, #5 got him.)

All this just is to say that I am every bit as overwhelmed as I thought I might be and you knew I would be. Still loving all the humans, but this has indeed been a challenging week. And it's only Wednesday morning.