Two on One
At first I thought : two children - no big deal. We already had one child, so two children would be just twice the work right? That my friends was doable. Definitely doable.
Actually we'd talked about having 30 or 40 kids. I mean, it's in the Bach genes.
Johann Sebastian Bach: 20 kids
My parents: 3 kids (slackers!)
Maybe not 20 kids, but at least enough to field a football team (or given the gender produced so far maybe a field hockey team or synchronized swimming). And the logic behind this is simple: we both love kids and love being parents. Sometimes, though, there are nights that give me pause. This is the story of one such night (told in two parts and available on DVD just in time for anyone buying late Christmas gifts).
We quickly found out that as far as having two kids goes instead of it being twice the work it turns out it's more like twice the work - in half the time. Apparently having another child isn't simple arithmetic, it's some form of higher math. Math that I could not now begin to comprehend as addition is really where my knowledge ends. I never really got the hang of subtraction and thus my future in rocket science met an early end. Which is all to say that "Wow" tonight was one of those higher math nights.
Not a bad night per se. But let me walk you through what happened to Katie tonight (part II will be Emily). We came home from Miss Pat's following a slight detour at the Magic Tree. We arrive at home where Emily wants to poof on the Christmas lights. This involves her waving a wand and someone surreptitiously plugging in the lights. If your Katie this means that you are carried inside in your car seat and sit there for thirty seconds wondering "HEY! Where did everybody go?"
After the "poof" ing then Katie gets free of her carseat and has free rein to wander around the downstairs while I rush to put Katie-food on the table (tonight's tasting menu: an appetizer of circular oat morsels followed by a main course of warm apple blueberry puree; Bon Appetit!). Making Katie's dinner takes all of 25 seconds. It only took 5 seconds for me to sense danger in a spidey-sense way and realize that the gate on the stairs was not up. Katie had mountain-goat-like ascended to the third step. I'd barely turned my head!
Next, I fix the gate in place and return for the remaining 20 seconds of dinner prep. Two seconds pass and Katie's got the corner of the dining room table cloth and is yanking for all she's worth. The hard drive, lap top and various other heavy breakable things move in slow motion towards the edge of the table, beneath which of course is Katie's head. I hurdle Emily and grab the table cloth in time for Katie to giggle maniacally. I then relocate her as far away from the table as possible and take some time to get her interested in a toy. Three seconds later she's stealthily returned to the dining room and climbed into her car seat. She's rocking back and forth in it as if it were a county fair ride (and probably just as safe). Finally, I end her freedom and confine her to the high chair where she beams at me, playfully grabs my nose and gives me a few kisses on the cheek.
After dinner is more of the same. Except that now her cheeks are stained with the "blueberry apple puree" and that Katie is now intent on digesting Emily's Prince Charming action figure (I call it an action figure because he's the one I always get assigned to play with and I DON'T play dolls).
And then after all of this danger and nonstop movement and sister drama, I manage to get Katie's bottle ready and she falls asleep in my arms while eating. She lays there drowsing and I just wonder: how is it that this cherubic, perfect child can be the tasmanian devil? But that is our Katie and it is literally impossible not to love her. Really, I challenge you- just try. It can't be done.
This tiny dynamo was only half of the night's story...stay tuned next time for the exciting conclusion of Andrew's Crazed Night of Two Daughters!
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Actually we'd talked about having 30 or 40 kids. I mean, it's in the Bach genes.
Johann Sebastian Bach: 20 kids
My parents: 3 kids (slackers!)
Maybe not 20 kids, but at least enough to field a football team (or given the gender produced so far maybe a field hockey team or synchronized swimming). And the logic behind this is simple: we both love kids and love being parents. Sometimes, though, there are nights that give me pause. This is the story of one such night (told in two parts and available on DVD just in time for anyone buying late Christmas gifts).
We quickly found out that as far as having two kids goes instead of it being twice the work it turns out it's more like twice the work - in half the time. Apparently having another child isn't simple arithmetic, it's some form of higher math. Math that I could not now begin to comprehend as addition is really where my knowledge ends. I never really got the hang of subtraction and thus my future in rocket science met an early end. Which is all to say that "Wow" tonight was one of those higher math nights.
Not a bad night per se. But let me walk you through what happened to Katie tonight (part II will be Emily). We came home from Miss Pat's following a slight detour at the Magic Tree. We arrive at home where Emily wants to poof on the Christmas lights. This involves her waving a wand and someone surreptitiously plugging in the lights. If your Katie this means that you are carried inside in your car seat and sit there for thirty seconds wondering "HEY! Where did everybody go?"
After the "poof" ing then Katie gets free of her carseat and has free rein to wander around the downstairs while I rush to put Katie-food on the table (tonight's tasting menu: an appetizer of circular oat morsels followed by a main course of warm apple blueberry puree; Bon Appetit!). Making Katie's dinner takes all of 25 seconds. It only took 5 seconds for me to sense danger in a spidey-sense way and realize that the gate on the stairs was not up. Katie had mountain-goat-like ascended to the third step. I'd barely turned my head!
Next, I fix the gate in place and return for the remaining 20 seconds of dinner prep. Two seconds pass and Katie's got the corner of the dining room table cloth and is yanking for all she's worth. The hard drive, lap top and various other heavy breakable things move in slow motion towards the edge of the table, beneath which of course is Katie's head. I hurdle Emily and grab the table cloth in time for Katie to giggle maniacally. I then relocate her as far away from the table as possible and take some time to get her interested in a toy. Three seconds later she's stealthily returned to the dining room and climbed into her car seat. She's rocking back and forth in it as if it were a county fair ride (and probably just as safe). Finally, I end her freedom and confine her to the high chair where she beams at me, playfully grabs my nose and gives me a few kisses on the cheek.
After dinner is more of the same. Except that now her cheeks are stained with the "blueberry apple puree" and that Katie is now intent on digesting Emily's Prince Charming action figure (I call it an action figure because he's the one I always get assigned to play with and I DON'T play dolls).
And then after all of this danger and nonstop movement and sister drama, I manage to get Katie's bottle ready and she falls asleep in my arms while eating. She lays there drowsing and I just wonder: how is it that this cherubic, perfect child can be the tasmanian devil? But that is our Katie and it is literally impossible not to love her. Really, I challenge you- just try. It can't be done.
This tiny dynamo was only half of the night's story...stay tuned next time for the exciting conclusion of Andrew's Crazed Night of Two Daughters!
Print Page
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