Tonight Stunk

It began stinking around 4:30pm and got stinkyer and stinkyer right on up to the girls bedtime of 7pm.  I'm not sure what happened.  I can tell you, that it began with Miss Marlo.  She was awesome all day and then, and then, I just don't know what happened.  Down hill fast I tell ya.  Midway through dinner, Sabine joined in the fussiness parade which escalated to full on freak out quite quickly.  The time now is 8:34pm and thank heavens, I can almost laugh about it all.

The hardest part about the two baby meltdown is that my arms just aren't long enough.  I'm not so coordinated to successfully have both girls on my lap with an arm around each and be able to pat them in a soothing manner at the same time.  My patting rhythm gets all thrown off and wonky and then before I know it my left hands quits while my right hand keeps on going.  Then I feel awful.  Does my subconscious mind love one girl over the other so that it messes with my hand patting rhythm?  Could this be?  Golly I hope not.  While one girl was doing her best to snuggle into my chest as she sat on my lap, the other was trying to climb me while resting her head on my shoulder, I will not name names as to which was which, for fear of future blame upon my mothering ways from the girls.  And my glider, which was such a treasure during Hugo's infancy right on up to the point where my pregnant belly would no longer allow room on my lap for his skinny person, is of no use anymore.  1 Momma + 2 Girls + a book = no room on a glider rocking chair.  So sad.

In the meantime, Hugo was pestering me with questions a mile a minute.  Usually, I pride myself on my ability to keep up with his never ending stream on questions mixed with nonsense, but tonight I was bordering on zero.  Tapped out.  So, I think I muttered something about his possibly not talking for, like forever.  No!  Really it wasn't that bad.  Maybe I asked him to not talk for at least 30 minutes.  No!  Just kidding!  It did boil down to his realizing I was a fried Momma and then he started talking about how it's really hard having two baby sisters.  How sometimes he wishes that Heavenly Father only sent us one girl.  This woke me up.  I told Hugo as simply as possible, that no matter how hard two babies can be at times, I would never, ever wish for one of our girls to not be here.  Hugo said, "Mom, when you get the wood and I play with the girls, it's really hard when one baby goes up the stairs and the other baby goes down the stairs!"  I told him that I agreed. 

Ending on a positive note, the girlies are saying Momma.  Well, babyish versions of Momma.