|My Irish Twins--Vicbowin and Albowin in Phoenix|
So we gathered up our four non-schooling munchkins and did a little (a lot) of feet throbbing shopping. First we had to go to Hobby Lobby, because it's the next best thing to Heaven, then we went over to Sioux City's bigger, better Wal-Mart.
By now we've been out for at least 2 hours. The babies--18 months and 14 months--are starting to fall apart. The kiddos--the Mischievite and the love of his life 'A'-- were putting my sons nick-name to the test by hiding in clothing racks and making us shout through the store.
Divide and conquer became the motto of our day. 'You take these two, I'll take those two,' starting making a lot of sense. So off I went in search of some foodstuffs while my friend helped the kiddo's find something to spend their birthday money on (her daughter and my Mischievite are four days apart in age).
My Remewin and her 'L' are usually the best of friends. They love to be with one another and typically toddle after each other in search of new adventures. But when you take away their naps and shove them both into a grocery cart for 2 hours what you get is two very grumpy, very unfriendly little girls who keep pulling each others hair and smacking each other and sobbing.
I'm okay with this, I'm used to ornery kids, Albowin was the king of ornery as a baby, but what I wasn't prepared for was the shear amount of smiles and coo's that were about to come my way. Every parent, young or old, turned their head to see watch my cart go by.
After an aisle or two I realized what I must look like--a mother of twin, sobbing, girls trying to get her grocery shopping done. It was very surreal and although I've also dealt with the 'people think I have twins' thing before (they aren't called Irish Twins for nothing) it had been a long time since I'd had that look.
Boy I'm glad I'm out of that stage of life.
That stage where you get stopped by perfect strangers and told to cover your child's toes before they catch a cold. Where no one expects you to know what whit about how to raise your own baby and therefore must explain it all to you... in the middle of the grocery store.
Being a mom is one of the best things I've ever done with my life. No... scratch that-- being a mom IS the best thing I've ever done, but I sure wouldn't want to go back to the first days and years of motherhood. When panic set in at the slightest suggestion from someone else.
Here's some of the suggestions I remember:
If you hold your baby for too long they'll become dependent on you. (undertone: And will never move out).
If you're child isn't speaking by 18 months there's something seriously wrong.
Feeding your baby formula is tantamount to poisoning your child.
Babies are colder than we are so you have to bundle them up with extra blankets to keep them warm. Don't worry about that sweat, she's not really hot.
If you feed your baby solid food too soon then they'll develop severe allergies to everything, but if you feed them too late they won't like anything.
Be sure to start your baby with vegetables because if you don't they'll never like them.
A babies diaper should be changed every two hours no matter what.
If you shave your infants head the hair will grow back thicker.
Nursing isn't hard. It's the most wonderful, fulfilling thing you'll ever do. (undertone: if you think nursing is hard you must be a bad mom.)
If you rock your baby to sleep you'll be rocking your 13.