First Illness(es)

On Thursday the 21st I hosted our neighborhood playgroup at my house. Turtle had been a little fussy the last few minutes of playtime so I fed her a bottle and she calmed down. Literally a minute after the last mom left she was fussing again, so I offered her a bite of watermelon, she ate it, and then immediately threw up on me. I suspected the watermelon, of course. But my more immediate concern was that I and my crying baby were covered in vomit, my other baby was crawling around on the floor starting to grumble for her bottle, and I had no one to help me. So I kind of stood there a minute, wondering what in the hell I was going to do. Then I started running around like a chicken with my head cut off. First, to the bathroom.

“Come on Monkey,” I called, trying to get her to crawl after me like she normally does. I pulled off my shirt and Turtle’s outfit, all the while calling out for Monkey to “come on honey, come with Mommy” while Turtle sobbed alligator tears. I turned on the water to the bathtub and Turtle’s screaming intensified; meanwhile, Monkey was still nowhere to be seen. I decided a bath was not the answer, so I grabbed a towel and wiped myself and Turtle down. Then I ran back out to the living room where Monkey was playing. I sat Turtle down on the floor to put Monkey in the Exersaucer so she would be contained while I figured out what was wrong with Turtle, and they both immediately began to scream in protest. I pick Turtle up and basically paced around in circles trying to calm her and shushing Monkey, who was flinging her body all around the Exersaucer, still screaming in anger at her unjust confinement. My mind was racing – who can I call? Do I call N at work and ask him to come home? What’s the point? I need someone now, not 20 minutes from now. Do I go knock on a neighbor’s door? I looked down at myself – in my vomit soaked bra – and decide no. Come on, I told myself, FIGURE THIS OUT.

It had been quite awhile since both girls screamed inconsolably. They were too big for me to hold and rock together. That had rarely worked when they were newborns and I knew it wouldn’t work now. They both want momma to themselves when they’re upset; sharing the chair would not do. I walked Turtle over to the uncovered window in the entryway (still in my bra) and as she looked outside she started to calm down. A walk. That would do it. Who cares if it’s midday in August - a walk ALWAYS settles the girls. And so I ran to my closet, threw on a t-shirt (with a sniffling Turtle still in my arms) and then ran to the nursery and got a clean onesie for Turtle. I wrestled her into it and put her down in the play yard in the kitchen, where she immediately started wailing. I left her there and ran to rescue a crying Monkey from the Exersaucer in the living room, then ran back through the kitchen, offered poor Turtle a “sh sh, Mommy will be right back” and headed through the utility room into the garage where our BOB stroller lives. I strapped Monkey in and then ran back for Turtle. I hustled her out to the stroller, strapped her in, and took off. I didn’t have my usual walking accoutrements – no cell phone, no sippy cups, no keys, no sneakers. I left the garage door and the front door completely open and hurried out into the street in my flip flops with both girls still screaming, hoping the neighbors wouldn’t report me to CPS for taking two crying babies out for a walk in 100 degree weather.

After just a few steps though, they both completely calmed down. I swear a walk in the BOB is like Valium to them (and me). After ten minutes of peace and quiet, I brought them back into the house and put Turtle straight down in her crib, where she immediately went to sleep. I finally relaxed and got Monkey ready for her afternoon nap, and put her down too. Then I went out into the living room to survey the damage and prepare for the rest of the day. . .

I originally thought this post would be about the various illnesses we had at home from August 21st through 28th. First there was Turtle, with her inexplicable vomiting Thursday and Friday, followed by a near sleepless Friday night. Then there was Monkey with her fever and general state of misery Sunday and Monday, which turned out to by Herpangina, also sometimes known as “Hand Foot and Mouth” disease (she had the blisters at the back of her throat). Then there was N who came home from work Wednesday with a fever and nausea. There were the countless calls to the pediatrician, the numerous rectal temperatures taken over the course of the weekend – I knew Monkey was really sick when she just laid there Sunday and didn’t fight the thermometer at all as it recorded 102.

After describing Turtle’s vomit scene though, I decided that was enough. You don’t need to know all about my desperate attempt to get Turtle to sleep at 12:30AM by driving her around for half an hour (it didn’t work). Or how I got a feverish Monkey to sleep in my arms. Or how my feverish husband had to drive himself to the grocery store for his saltines, Sprite, and soup because I was too busy taking care of babies (and working on a real estate transaction) to care for him. This detailed snapshot of one hour of one day is a pretty good answer to the comment I get most often: “I don’t know how you do it.” I really don’t know how I do it either, but I can describe it to you after the fact, and I’ll try to do that here when the opportunity arises. There is A LOT of trial and error, and I do literally run a lot of the time – all the places in the description above where I said “then I ran here, then I ran there,” I really was running, that was not an exaggeration. So when people ask me how I’ve managed to lose all my baby weight and then some, I always say, “Running after twins.” They think I’m joking, but that’s actually a serious answer.

So, how do I do it? Keep reading, and we’ll find out together.