Monday, January 24, 2011

Easier. Not Easy.

 I would, just for the record, like to announce that having twin boys who are 4 years old is much easier than having twin boys who are

4 days old...

14 months old...

or even 34 months old. 

Now don't get me wrong. I didn't say it was EASY to have twin boys who are 4. Just easier than it has been in the past.

When my boys were about 2 years old I took them swimming. I inadvertently forgot to bring their life jackets. That little mistake made for a really wild day, I tell ya. Nothing like a little double trouble jumping into the death traps of 4 feet of water to put a little spring in your step. It wore this old girl out, to say the least!

That day the Nicest Little Lady (also the mother of twin boys) came up and put her arm around me. "Listen honey. I have been watching you from afar and I couldn't help but come on over and tell you....IT IS GOING TO GET EASIER!!!!!! By the time these boys are 4, you are going to be sitting pretty." 

Sitting Pretty, hu?
I like pretty.
Couldn't wait! 

Yesterday I took my boys swimming. I brought the life jackets this time! That is a mistake only to be made once.  I couldn't help but reflect on the words of the Nicest Little Lady. While I watched my boys go down the big slide alone, climb the stairs to the top of the slide alone, swim around in their life jackets alone....I had to admit! The Nicest Little Lady was correct. Things are getting easier! I felt Pretty. I dare say, I was even Sitting Pretty! You wouldn't really even believe how Sitting Pretty I was. I just kicked back and soaked for a spell while those cute little guys climbed up the stairs to the slide one million times. 


Oh, then.

We went into the dressing room and showered the chlorine off our Sitting Pretty bodies. While LittleTwinBoyAaron was hanging out in the shower, LittleTwinBoyNate and I went around the corner to get dressed. When I was done attending to Nate, I called out to Aaron. "C'mon Aaron, it's your turn to get dressed." Were my exact words, in fact. 

No response.

None at all. 

I peeked around the corner to find 3 ladies standing in the showers. 

No Aaron to be seen. 

I looked. I searched. I went out of  the dressing room into the pool area. I looked! I searched!

Then I spotted my missing boy. All the way out in the lobby sobbing his guts out and calling my name...calling my name.

As soon as I saw him I plowed my way through a few small crowds and into the lobby. In my dripping wet suit, towel wrapped around my head, pair of bright purple crocks on my feet. I scooped that boy up in a fast hurry and cuddled him silly.

Wasn't Sitting at this point.

Wasn't Pretty, either.
It's hard to look pretty when you are having a small heart attack. 

On the way home the missing boys twin brother wet his pants all over the soft cushioned seats of my mini van. Apparently he drank half of the pool each time he came barreling out of that slide.

Wasn't Sitting while I scrubbed the pee-diddle out of the seats that afternoon.

Wasn't really Pretty, either.
Pee-diddle scrubbing and Pretty don't really mix that well.

Twin boys who are 4 years old are easier, I said. 
Not easy. 
Nothing worth while in this life is....
is it?

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