Dreaming of a Magical Nanny

 

 

Parents de-stress with scenes like these

Parents de-stress with scenes like these

 

Odd title right?  It’s just that what does one dream of when they’re sleepy?  A pillow or their bed, no?  Well, I’m dreaming of a nanny.  One that helps me with my twins.  She carries a magical wand and sings like Mary Poppins.  Every time my son wants to turn into the Tazmanian Devil she shakes the wand at him and voila, Taz is happy.  Every time my daughter wants to jump off of a high place, Magical Nanny is there to quickly catch her in midair and float her down to the ground gently.  Sounds wonderful.

Don’t worry, I’m not losing it.

It’s just I’ve been having so much fun lately.  My twins are 22 months old and currently transitioning into toddler beds (their cribs convert).  My husband and I were not eager for this move, in fact we’ve been dreading it for a while.  However, we don’t want anyone to fall splat on their head.  Last weekend we walked into the kid’s bedroom to greet them in the morning and what started as a “good morninggg!!”  suddenly turned into a “whooaa!” as my husband quickly grabbed our daughter who was trying to leap off of the top of her crib.  I knew she’d be the first to do it.

We can’t lower the cribs further as they are as low as they go so toddler beds it is.  Only, trying to get two little playmates asleep when they can leave their beds is simply…sigh.  Let’s just say it’s only been a few days and I already don’t know how we’re going to make it.  They normally nap 1.5 to 3 hours around noon every day but lately?  No nap.  Instead, they get pretty cranky around 2pm and stay that way for several hours.  By the time dad gets home he’s wondering what happened to his little angels. 

At night, the room is really dark and I guess they’re not tempted to play.  However, during the day, despite me shoving all the toys in the closet, they still got each other and apparently that’s more than enough. 

Yesterday, I kept laying them in their beds and asking them to stay.  Five seconds later I’d hear a noise and go back in.  They had climbed the changing table, were both standing on top with their tiny arms in the air as if they had just successfully climbed Mt. Everest.  They probably wondered why I didn’t cheer them on.  Instead, I’m like, “Oh wow this is so dangerous!”   At this point I notice that the painting above the changing table is on the floor.  “So that’s what they were after”, I thought.  The painting goes away into another room.  It’s their beloved painting made by dad of a tiger chasing another tiger with a green and black checkered tile background (Hey, you should see the blue tree I painted for them).  The kids scream. 

And I let them while I have some juice to fix my blood sugar which is lowering because of all the baby lifting.  My back is starting to hurt because it’s been an hour of repeat attempts at getting them to stay in their beds.  Forget the kettle bell workout later, this is it.

Then, we try again.  I go out onto the balcony and watch them from the window.  They’re back on the changing table.  “You guys!  What if you fall down?!”  Out goes baby Everest.  They really aren’t happy, now.  I’ve made their room boring.  And the changing table has made my living room look wrong.

I try the whole process of asking them to stay in their beds, putting them back in their beds, over and over and over.  Before I know it three hours have passed and like any normal person, I give up. 

I haven’t had lunch.  My back is really sore.  The kids are cranky and laying on pillows on the floor.  I give them something to drink and offer them a snack.  I try to engage them in some play time or story time but they are sleepy and easily irritated by the slightest touch or interference from the other.  And yet they can’t stay apart.  “Henri, please don’t roll over your sister, she doesn’t appreciate it.”

I test and find that I’m again in need of sugar.  I have some chocolate almond milk and some broccoli and some licorice.  It’s all I’ve ate all day and lately, it’s how I’ve been eating.  Quick and on the go.

My blood test results come through the door along with my husband that evening.  My A1c is 5.7 and everything else looks good.  Although my Vitamin D is low-which I suspected because I tend to need a good bit.  I’ve been supplementing but the doctor says I need to take more.  So I need it to stop raining while I supplement in the meantime.  I knew my A1c would be higher than last time.  I’ve let my sugars run higher than normal because life with twin toddlers is always pushing my blood sugar down.  You really should feel my abs.  Like, Chevy Trucks, they’re like a rock.  Too bad they don’t look that way…

Anyway, you always hear stories of how lovely twin toddlers are because they play together.  Well of course they’re lovely but staying home with them all day is an exhausting full time job.  Then the house is a part time job.  My writing is a part time job.  My diabetes is a full time job.  Ha!  No wonder the house is a mess.  A diabetes cure would be ideal because I want to keep my kids, I don’t think magical nanny exists, and because I like to write.  The diabetes can go away, though.

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