If recent celebrity pregnancies are making the idea of twins sound dreamy, then you didn’t see what happened to me at the Children’s Museum today. The one rule we have at the Children’s Museum is stay with mommy or we go home. And today at the taco restaurant in the museum this rule was tested. One boy ran off and I picked up the other boy to get the runner causing the boy who hadn’t done anything wrong to start wailing. We found the runner and he started screaming too. I tried to soothe/bribe/backstep but the damage was already done and now the only choice we had left really was to leave. Except I didn’t bring the stroller and I haven’t had to drag two screaming boys in a long time, and they’re getting very heavy. So this ended up being a multi-step process. Pick-up. Scream. Walk a few steps. Stop. Sit Down. Repeat. We probably sat down screaming at least 5 times before we got to the car. One time was near the big fountain where the boy who started it in the beginning-the runner-was now quite calm and very quiet.
“Bird poo.” he said.
“Pardon? ” I asked between the cries of the other boy.
Sure enough, his hand was completely covered in fresh bird feces that he’d found nearby where we sat. I almost barfed. I hate anything poo. By the time I cleaned him up, both boys were back to being angry about leaving the museum and we were still so far from the car. I don’t know how we ever made it back actually and when we finally got there and I looked in the rearview mirror, I had scary big black circles around my eyes because I didn’t wear waterproof mascara and I was completely sweaty and my hair was a frazzled mess. Not glamorous. Not J. Lo on a beach with angelic twins in her arms. Not Angelina Jolie with her smiling brood of 6. We drove off and headed home and moments after we got in the door, the boys were back to being angels again. Playing happily, and chatting with me. You’d never know a battle went down. And then they fell asleep.
Happy pre-battle pics: