It was another night again. And I mean a night.
You woke at midnight again, Baby Boy, crying that you were scared. Only this time as I sat with you on my lap rocking you to comfort, your sister woke and thought this was just the greatest thing.
Wow! Mom’s here!
One of the many wonderful things about twins is the schizophrenia a twin-parent can perfect. In one breath I was whispering so sweetly in your ear, Baby Boy, the vision of comfort. In the very next I was Super Nanny, reprimanding your sister as if my head had spun and I could spit pea soup, “stop that! stop jumping! get back in bed!”
You wanted me to sit on your bed, but then when your sister saw me do this, she wanted me to sit on her bed, too. As large as my behind is, it is physically impossible for me to do this.
If anyone was to get any sleep, it would have to be on neutral territory.
“Will you guys go to sleep if we go in Mama’s room?”
Boy, did that mood shift.
You ran down the hall and jumped into my bed, helping yourselves to my covers and propping yourself up on my pillows as if you were sitting up lounge chairs at the beach. With any sign of crying instantly faded I was on to your crocodile tears. You guys didn’t just look happy, you looked proud. I was waiting for you to high-five each other, sucker, we got her!
“TV! TV! TV!” you both started chanting.
“You guys! No. We are going to sleep!”
I slipped into the middle of the bed, in between you. As a side sleeper I turned to my right to face you, Baby Boy, but then your sister got mad and started smacking me in the back. I knew she was mad I had my back toward her, because I am a mind reader, or she was screaming, “Back! Back!” I turned to my left side to face her, but then you, Baby Boy, did the same.
So I laid on my back in the middle of the bed, my head not really on either sets of the pillows, my arms outstretched to equally lay across either of you–because apparently the first rule of sleeping in mom’s bed is we must be touching at all times.
You guys slept great. Me, not so much…Today is one of those days when I feel like such crap I keep wondering, am I pregnant? Something must be wrong. But no, I’m just tired. I just feel like crap. I am itchy, who is itchy?
My Nanny had a saying: Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.
Not tonight!, I say.
Easy to say at noon, let’s see what happens at midnight, a time when everybody plays the fool. Especially tired parents.