Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Maybe

I don’t have an alarm clock; my expensive watch I got from Geoffrey as a wedding gift is at the bottom of a jewelry box; the only piece of accessory I wear is my wedding band and engagement ring. I have children, two of them, twins, toddlers.

My morning doesn’t start with the annoying tone of an electric alarm clock, but with a giggle, a cry or a scream “momma”. Consequently, there is no “snooze” button.
I don’t get 5 more minutes under the warm bed covers. When I hear shuffling noises through the monitor, I know that two pairs of big, blue and green eyes are open and my day just started! 

Sometimes I get a minute to put on my sweats, my uniform, other times the cry from next doors is so imminent and so powerful, it becomes an emergency situation and I am required to put out fires right away, one after another.  “Emergency situation”:  a pacifier thrown on the floor, a book of desire within an unreachable distance, or a diaper half torn from a perfect little body covered in skin as smooth as butter, as aromatic as a fresh load of warm cloths from a drier and a butt as round as two garlic cloves.

I am a mom in training. I’ve studied child psychology in college, I worked years as a nanny getting my practice run at motherhood and I’ve even watched a few episodes of  “wife swap” to sample extreme forms of parenting, but nothing really prepared me for the job at hand. I remember chuckling at my friend, Miriam’s facebook post a while ago, who said her toddler was her most demanding client. That’s from a blackberry of a corporate executive! "Not my children" I would have said years ago when I had my “will be” parenting tactics outlined as “strict”!

Meanwhile, in the babie’s room, the emergency situation has been saved and everyone is happily leafing through pages of colorful books. I would like to start a day, but LoLo doesn’t. My role now is to sit and wait it out while begging for some lenience, to be able to at least change their diapers. When all tricks fail, the of -chance  “If you’re happy and you know it” song prevails and I turn into a composer/singer/producer putting on a show. “If you’re happy and you know it, get out of bed”. Now at least we’re on our way to breakfast heading 5 steps south towards the living room!

Breakfast? Having wasted half of the morning, I reach for the easiest thing that comes to my hands – English muffins! I direct LoLo to their high chairs with more trouble than the traffic chief at crossroads on Times Square and try to stuff their little limbs into the coordinating holes. London insists on the company of the largest truck ever made for his age group, LoLa is clinging on to her two pacifiers, a blanket and a book. “Not without my truck, blanket, pacifiers, books”

The English muffin is done, a little butter and jam. I present the scrumptious breakfast on a favorite plate, but both look at me with great suspicion, as they never had a muffin before. London proceeds to poke a hole through the crispy dough while Lola turns it and smells it till all her fingers are covered in blackberry jam. “Cookie” she announces victoriously with a huge grin  ... London’s caught on to the idea and now they are both eating their breakfast, that just passed for a dessert!

Good job mom, you deserve a cup of coffee!” A second of quiet is followed by another emergency sound as soon as I fill up the coffee maker “Maaa” “Maaa” “Maaa”  I hear the chant … “Maaa” comes from a word “Masik” in Hungarian meaning “another one” or “the other”. Now London and Lola are both balancing their identical bowl with identical ingredients towards each other …  I am not just a mom and a wife, everyday I realize I am mostly a student and the lesson for today is : “Two identically appearing items are never identical” … I help with the exchange and longingly look towards the coffee maker when London shows me his squeezing fist I taught them months ago – “milk” in sign language … Sooner than London’s cup is filled, Lola is pushing hers towards me, though half full. The way of least resistance works the best for a bit of quiet in exchange and so I get the milk box, turn around and fill the cup. As I am handing it over to Lola, she shakes her head “NO” ..Nooo??? You don’t want it”? Lost in translation, I go back to baby language, sign language, ape language, switch from English to Hungarian and finally figure it all out! I turned my back! She didn’t see me pouring the milk into the cup! “If I didn’t see it, it didn’t happen” is my lesson two for the day.

The day proceeds in a similar chaotic manner. One minute I marvel at our luck of having these two adorables in our life, another it’s an emergency.  I am endlessly exchanging items, using my persuasive skills (one per each foot/hand) to make LoLo wear shoes/hats/gloves, demonstrating the possibility of eating with just one spoon rather than a few, opening and closing doors for safety vs fun! My life has moved from the chair level to the ground – I sweep the floor, I play on the floor and occasionally, I eat of the floor.  My “I will never” (as a parent) changed to “maybe”.

“Momma, cookie?”  

“Maybeeee”

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