TDD (Otherwise known as The Diaper Disaster)

You know, being a mother of twins, one has to deal with higher costs than those of singletons. For example, double the cost of formula, diapers, clothes, food, milk, toys, etc. Which is why on the afternoon of May 24th, I was, shall we say it nicely, pretty teed off at my two lovely boys. Not only do mothers of twins have to deal with higher costs, but we have double the tantrums, double the "mine" and "no" (see former blog entry with the same title), and the impossibility of simultaneously capturing and containing two kids that look exactly the same running in two different directions.
Add it all up and you have TDD (The Diaper Disaster). The afternoon of May 24th began like any other day, with the exception that I was cleaning my bathroom and I was trying to get it finished before the twins woke up from their afternoon nap. Now, I did not undertake this process until way too late in the day, which meant that the twins were awake in their crib for about 30 minutes before I was able to get them. Normally, this would be no big deal, again with the exception of the trash can incident (see former blog entry entitled Sharpie: Both Friend and Foe).

By this time I am sure you are wondering, What was she thinking? Doesn't she know her own kids by now? I've only read a few posts and I know that twins + lack of supervision even in the face of containment= disaster. Yes, even the 1948 Marshall Plan's policy of containment would not have helped in this particular scenario, George not withstanding.

What can I tell you, all I wanted to do was clean the freakin' toilet!!!! It wasn't like I was watching Oprah or painting my toenails. Nooooooooo, I was wiping my other son's pee from his absence of aim off of the toilet that my husband and I share. Which is kind of ironic considering what I was about to discover.

So, all of this leads to the following scenario. After 30 minutes of being awake in their cribs with no supervision, I finish up the toilet and head in to their room to change their diapers and take them downstairs. As I get closer to their door, I begin to smell something ominous eminating from their bedroom.

Now mind you, I haven't even opened the door yet!

A feeling of dread begins to brew in my stomach and as the door opens, I almost vomit with the stench of excrement.

Yes, you guessed it, poop, lots and lots of poop. Poop on the walls, poop on the crib sheet, poop on the crib. Crap, excrement, Bowel movement, whatever. POOP everywhere.

It was at that particular moment that I longed for the 80's Calgon commercial. Take me away, Calgon, take me far, far away. Preferably in a bubble bath with someone feeding me milk duds. No, forget the duds, they remind me too much of the aforementioned incident. Switch it to a nice glass of pinot grigio.

Anyway, Twin #1 had taken great pleasure in removing his pants, closely followed by a fully loaded poopy diaper. He had also obviously had just as much fun smearing said diaper deposits all over the wall, crib sheets, crib and I'll save the best for last, himself. My one saving grace was that Twin #2 had begun to mimic the actions of his brother but had only gotten as far as removing half of his fully loaded diaper. His onesie was partially removed, but he appeared to have encountered technical difficulties while trying to get it off of his arms after he had pulled it up and over his head. So it looked as if he was wearing it behind his neck, yet still worn over his arms and shoulders.
Both boys were obviously very proud of their efforts as evidenced by their huge grins as I walked in.

" Mommy, poopy, bachy, bachy poopy." Now, for my PA Dutch followers, you will appreciate the use of the term bachy. Yes, my speech delayed twins regularly substitute PA Dutch words into their somewhat limited vocabulary.

Bachy- def. A word regularly used in the PA Dutch vernaculuar, i.e. dirty, messy, yucky. Quite the understatement given the situation.

However, the icing on the cake, the cherry on the sundae, the "ah ha" moment, if you will, occured when I went to pick twin #1 out of his crib. As I stepped forward to lift my adorable little child out of his crib, my stocking foot was met with the sudden feeling of moisture soaking into the polycotton blend.

Yes, again you probably realize what was happening before I did. The little stinker had chosen to pee out of his crib all over the nicely carpeted floor.

So basically, my day consisted of cleaning up bathrooms, designated or otherwise.