There was a q-tip on the counter when Ella and I went up for shower time. I couldn't imagine why the ends were blue. Was Dave cleaning something with a Q-tip? Yes.... Yes he was.... Andi had used a marker to color her ear canals blue. Then Dave used the Q-tip to clean out her ears.
I was home from a day of one-on-one shopping trips with the twins and arrived in time to hear Andi's newest phrase. As she closes bedroom doors, she says, "Bye sweetie!"
I was glad to come home to Andi and her quirks...
I tried on swim suits while shopping today. What on earth possessed me to try on suits is a mystery. In my first attempt, I got twisted in the top part of the suit (it was a tankini) and couldn't get the top past my boobs. Sophia hopped out of the stroller and a pair of underwear we planned to buy -- on a mini hanger -- was hanging off her pants. This struck me as funny and I begin laughing amidst my panic that I am stuck in a suit -- and as Sophia is tugging on the suit, she notices that I am beginning to sweat. "Mom! You are wet! What is wrong with you?!"
"SHHH!!!" I hiss at her.
"Why are you telling me to be quiet? What?!"
And as if this experience wasn't enough, I took Ella shopping later in the day at another store. And because I was hell-bent on confirming that my body has gone to hell and a hand-basket since having children, I tried on more tankinis. (Really. It has. Instead of boobs, picture two deflated balloons -- the small type of balloons they use for water balloons. Then, instead of the flat belly I used to have is a severe separation of the abdominal muscles, an umbilical hernia, and saggy baggy elephant skin and that pretty much gives you a picture of what a 110 pound woman looks like after gaining 45 pounds with full-term twins.)
Anyway....Ella and I crammed ourselves into the dressing room and she began trying on a sundress while I braced myself for how badly I would look.
One question: Is it the dressing room atmosphere that makes me look so dumpy? Or do I look like that no matter where I am?
Anyway, Ella begins giggling about my trying on suits -- and starts speaking loudly about "boobies" and "vulvas" and I get embarassed and I start doing what I always do when embarassed -- start laughing uncontrollably. Which then causes Ella to begin laughing -- uncontrollably -- and pretty soon she starts tooting ("sneezing in her trousers" as Dave's frat mom used to say) -- which gets us both embarassed and the laughing is now hysterical.
"Mommy! I have to pee. And I can't hold it."
I stop laughing abruptly. This is no time for silliness. A 4-year-old has to go potty, her mommy is in a tankini and is in NO position to rush to the bathroom. Like hell am I going to race that child to the bathroom before I am fully covered. She can pee on the dressing room floor if she has to. I plop Ella on the floor and command her to hold it. She does. I find a tankini that will do and, given the current state of my body, that is the best I can ask for.
And as we leave, each of us quietly recovering from our wild Saturday night in the ladies dressing room, I remember the time that I took the twins in the restroom with me. They were just barely two-years-old and were beginning to get the concept of going potty. They had one word for the act of peeing or pooping and it was..."pooping." I recalled that day in the Von Maur restroom, as I pee'd, and they chanted in sing-song unison for all to hear, "Mommy is pooping! Mommy is pooping! Mommy is pooping!"
"Shhh....I'm peeing....Now be quiet!"
"WHY? Why we have be quiet?" It was Sophia (of course) who asked that question and I clasped my hand over her tiny mouth which she found shockingly hilarious and the giggles kicked in while Ella continued with their chant, "Mommy is pooping! Mommy is pooping!"
Ella and I drove home with -- per her request -- the radio blaring to Salt and Pepper "Pump up the jam. Pump up the jam. Pump it up...."
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