Cat in Heels

That’s how long it’s been since the twins were born. Five looooong years. Or five short years. It feels like a couple months ago they were infants. Now they’re full blown children. Big kids, as they now refer to themselves. Kids who are reading and writing and soaking the world up like a sponge. Kids who are arguing and developing opinions, a sense of style, and a very serious set of likes and dislikes. Kids who want to be part of everything and do all the stuff big kids do, but still tell me they don’t want to be adults because they don’t want to not live with me. Twin Powers, Activate! This is an amazing time. This is magical. This is what I never could have imagined during those long days and nights of that first year. Twin parents, hang in there. Five year olds also means that Husband and I have survived as the parents of twins for five full years. We may not have slept a lot, and some of it was hard. Like really, soul wrenchingly difficult. I can’t compare to somethi...

Every morning as I get ready for work the twins come wandering into my bathroom, rubbing the sleep from their eyes and telling me about their crazy dreams. I finish my hair and start doing my makeup and they crowd around me, grabbing at makeup brushes and asking what everything is as I apply each piece. About a month earlier at Ulta trying not to touch everything.  D: "What's that for?" Me: "It's foundation so Mommy's skin isn't blotchy." D: "Oh. You put it on with a cat egg?" Me: "It's a beauty blender, sweetie. Cats don't lay eggs." S: "What's that for?" Me: "It's an eyebrow pencil so Mommy has eyebrows again because she waxed them into oblivion in the '90s." S: "Oh. Oblivion? Do I have eyebrows?" Me: "Yes bay, they're right here above your eyes, and they're beautiful so don't ever mess with them even if thin brows come back into style." And...

Why are four letter words so easy to say? I mean for us adults they just roll off the tongue in a variety of situations. I haven’t counted how many I use in a day, but it’s up there. I tried to stop once but it turns out not swearing is bullshit that other people do. It’s like cooking or running marathons. Great for some people, but totally not for me. It turns out that four letter words are equally easy to for toddlers to say. How is it that the kids say “beek-a-poo” when playing peek a boo, but “Fuck” is loud and clear. Monkeys are commonly referred to as “on-keys” but “oh shit” doesn’t seem to be tripping them up. Husband said in their defense we probably say “fuck” a lot more than “peek-a-boo.” I'm not sure about that, but the two may be neck and neck. My two-year-old twins are dropping f-bombs at the dinner table while I have a post-work cocktail. They have also recently learned to growl back at the dog when playing tug, which means at least we’re not the only...

Every once in a while a woman comes along, hopping around, flipping hair and flashing manicured nails and spouting off about the dumbest shit in the world, and all you can think is “You’re the type that makes women look stupid.” Enter Meghann Foye, a woman who has written a book and spoken on the topic of “ Meternity .” It’s like maternity leave, but without the baby. You know for single people without babies because it’s not fair that only people who have babies get all this time off. I’ll let that sink in for a minute. According to Ms. Foye, taking maternity leave is a wonderful time that allows women to reflect on Spend vacation hooked up to this every 3 hours. It's fun! life, learn to advocate for themselves and their family, and generally recharge. You moms seeing red yet? I’m not sure about everyone else’s experience, but I went into labor at night, was emailing my boss from the hospital before they wheeled me into an operating room to cut me open, pulled every...

What the fuck universe? I’m tired of opening Facebook every morning at the train station and seeing someone who died. The last 30 days has been a bad time to be a celebrity, particularly if your British and I am a fan of your work. First it was Lemmy, the Motorhead frontman who prided himself on how much he could drink and toured right up to the end, passing away from an aggressive cancer just before the new year. The Goblin King watches over my babes Next we famously had David Bowie. When I saw it I thought it was an internet hoax, and after some frantic Googling I realized it was real and choked back tears as I sat waiting for a late train on a bitter cold Chicago morning. Now Alan Rickman . The voice of God. The bad guy from Die Hard. The Sheriff of Nottingham. Most famously, Snape. This is a really long list, so I’ll end with that one since almost everyone but me has seen all the Harry Potter movies. All three great. All three taken by aggressive cancer before...

Trips to Target are practically a weekend ritual at this point. I obviously need laundry detergent, hand soap and a new coat all at once, and it’s a one stop shop for almost everything. This weekend I tossed the girls onto a cart, one in the seat and one in the basket, and headed inside (where I found the only double cart occupied by one kid). I gave a brief look through the clothes and where they leaned out of the cart in an effort to touch  everything , and we headed to the shoe aisle. Cute stuff but nothing earth shattering, let’s move along. They really liked these .  Oh, S needs winter boots, let’s check those out here. As I slowly navigated the cart into the children’s shoe aisle both girls started getting visibly excited. They stood up in the cart, leaned over, and then both started yelling “SHOES, SHOES!!!” in screechy toddler voice while desperately grabbing at all the shoes they could reach. S pulled her shoes off and threw them to the floor. The ...

Daylight savings time is nothing to parents. Except maybe a pain in the ass. It’s just another day where things are all screwed up from the first squawk out of the baby monitor, which is an hour earlier than they normally wake up no matter what kind of crazy voodoo you’ve been trying to work the previous week to make sure they’re on a schedule. This year was particularly bad on Sunday. Maybe it was a Halloween hangover or something, but I walked in the twins’ room and S, who is the Houdini of diapers, is rocking the deep v Elvis look and I marvel at how cute she is before realizing the reason she looks like that is because she has figured out how to work zippers overnight and taken her wet diaper off. What the hell is she doing? The whole day pretty much stayed on that trajectory and I found myself saying some really insane things. “Stop coloring on your sister.” “Why is there ham on the dog?” “Who pooped?” “Did you seriously just poop in the tub?” (She did. My bathroom ha...

I've come to the conclusion that toddlers have a lot in common with pets. Both are entertaining, loving and generally mischievous. Especially the toddlers.  The second you're not looking is when they get into something, and with twins it's really easy to not have one in your sights at all times, which means someone is into something at all times. One kid is trying to dig in her diaper, so you focus on that one and preventing the impending gross event and the other one is eating a dog treat.  One is running around with a dirty sock in their mouth, and while you’re trying to catch them the other one is chewing on a book.  One has managed to open a container of wipes and is pulling them all out and the other one is dumping out a toybox.  We may be spending too much time playing with the dog if this is how we carry toys. I could go on, but you get the idea. There’s more too.  One minute they’re all fun and cuddly, and want to sit on your lap, and th...

Once upon a time I walked everywhere in heels. And I mean everywhere. I would walk miles in platforms or 5 inch stilettos. Sometimes 5 inch platform stilettos. I took the bus and train in heels. I wore heels in rain, snow, sleet, day, night. If needed I could run in heels. More than a couple times I fell asleep still wearing heels. In my late 20's I slowly started favoring shorter or thicker heels heels when I knew walking was going to be a thing. Then I found myself worrying about things like the pitch of the shoe, the level of the platform or lack thereof and whether or not my foot slid forward after hours of wear. Slowly I found myself favoring certain styles and spending more money on one good pair of heels than two or three shitty ones. Slowly I found a cobbler I love and started worrying about what kind of materials were used to make my shoes and what type on insole they have. Slowly I was getting older. Under my desk used to be empty. Now it's full of shoe...

This year I got an office for my birthday. OK, so it wasn’t actually for my birthday, but the day before my birthday the IT guy came over and moved my computer and phone, gave me a bigger monitor and a keyboard with one shift key that only works if you punch the hell out of it, and I had to gather up my piles of paper and my drawer of shoes (how does that keep happening?) and moved into my own private space. Now I have a door and can shut it for conference calls, or so I can eat lunch in private. Now I can hang my coat on the back of the door instead of in the community coat closet where it comes out smelling of other people’s perfumes, cigarettes and other general odors. This would be a great picture if someone wasn't crying and everyone would look at the camera.  Now I have four white walls staring at me, reminding me that I’m a crappy mom who can’t get her shit together and get some damn photos of her kids for her office. I have a phone that is bursting with pho...

This weekend we were getting ready to go out and as I was putting on shoes I noticed that S’s toes were almost to the end of her sandals. And I mean touching the very top inside. And they were hard to buckle. Apparently the kid’s feet grew overnight and her two month old shoes no longer fit. Of course I work all week, and Stride Rite is 30 minutes away which puts us straight into bedtime assuming I feed them dinner. That’s a recipe for two kids walking around Stride Rite screaming while trying to crawl under fixtures or just making circles while crying. Yes, they do strange things when they’re tired. Of course I need the shoes by Saturday because we have something to do, and I won’t have time in the morning with breakfast and naps and what not, mostly because I want to avoid being that person with two screaming children in a store. Of course there’s the internet, but free shipping is 5 days (i.e. after Saturday) and for some reason I feel like I need to see the shoes if I’m bu...

I wish had the time to do funny and clever mom things, or the creativity to think of things like arts and crafts. Instead I just write this blog, which I can knock out on my phone while riding home on the train or on my lunch break, and half the time it’s not even about being a mom because I figure that’s going to bore all the people who came to read about whatever else I happen to be discussing. One Australian woman with twins has become my hero though after a bazillion friends sent me links This is funny. People need to relax.  to the article and posted it to my wall. Seriously, if she was in the States we’d be having a glass of wine together right now and telling our kids to stop doing whatever it is they’re currently doing that they shouldn’t be. As a joke, this hero mom attached some FAQs to her kids in the stroller, presumably so people won’t ask her dumb questions while she’s out. While she never actually took the kids out with the signs, the internet predictably...

I love shoes. It turns out buying them for my girls is as fun as when I buy them for myself. I am also already dreading the day when they get an opinion and stop letting me pick out the ones I like best. My girls only had gym shoes, which worked great this spring, but I needed to get them ready for summer, so a few weeks ago we piled into the car, drove to the mall, piled out (seriously do you have any idea what goes into taking twins to a mall?) and wandered into the nearest mall. The new shoes getting ready to jump into action at the park. Of course the store I wanted to go to was on the opposite side of where I came in, so we schlepped across the mall with all the people stopping to point, yelling out things like “Are they twins?” and “Oh my god, how do you do it?” (double stroller people) and went to Stride Rite . Lucky me they were having a sale on sandals, but of course only a limited selection. We picked out one style for both girls, and then literally as I am being ru...

After working 40+ hours a week, commuting, being a mom, a wife, doing some kind of sad excuse for housework (does folding laundry that’s been sitting in the dryer for 2 days count?) and various other crap that makes me who I am, I stare at my closet full of clothes (many of which are too big or too small) and my new collection of shoes, some of which were bought with the intention of running after toddlers, and I think “Who the fuck am I?”. Last night I was giving the girls a bath and we made shampoo mohawks, played with rubber ducks and splashed until they managed to start splashing water outside the tub and were turning into squawking baby prunes. S finally demanded “Up” which is universal for any position other than the one she’s currently in (down, off, out, and sometimes actually up) and we started drying off. With two babies you can imagine that there’s some kind of madness that goes along with getting them bathed, dried off and diapered. “Don’t stand in the tub.” “Don’t ru...

I’m not sure exactly what happened recently, but I’m pretty sure my life has been sucked into a black hole. The girls started walking, I got a new job, started the new job, bought the girls shoes, went to work, came home, did some stuff, tried to be a good wife and mom, worked some more. That doesn't leave much time for anything else, but I renew my promise (again) to try and be better about writing and posting. For real. I’ll write on my phone while chasing the girls in two different directions. One wants to play with the dog toy (which really pisses him off) and the other wants to play on the stairs. Always the stairs. What the hell kids? It was like watching a dog with boots on. She was pissed. I’m going to start putting their shoes on them inside because the shoes actually slow them down. Neither one really knows what to do right away, so they just stand there like tiny little statues. Eventually they figure out how to walk again and we’re off to the same old mischief...

There’s life changers that are really obvious and turn your entire life on its ear (like the day I came home with twins), and then there are the subtle changes that you don’t really notice until you have some reason to look back. At that point it sometimes makes you wonder “Who am I?” The other day I was texting with a friend and we were discussing work, jobs, next steps and the path that got us there. We've been friends since we were about 15, moved to the city around the same time, spent our 20s putting in 50+ hours a week at the office, trying to establish ourselves in careers, and spent weekends bar hopping, drinking too much and making some questionable decisions. Eventually we started spending weekends in, got married (me, not him), moved, got new jobs, kept working a million hours a week (does that stop?), had twins (me again) and once in a while we manage to not have meetings on the same day and we meet for lunch. Closet vomit. I seriously need to get this under contr...

Having twins means they fight over a lot of things. They haven't really gotten to the sharing part, but they do steal from each other, make the other one cry, and then fight about it (even if there's two of the same toy).  This week they decided to start sharing when they shared the stomach flu. Wednesday I got up, nursed them and then started to put them back in their cribs when D made a noise and I heard a splash like she spit up. I turned her around and after a couple "urp" noises she vomited all over me. It was them that I saw the dark shadow of vomit that was all over her crib. And then she puked on me again.  I woke up hubby, who wasn't really happy to see me holding a baby and covered in vomit at 5:30 in the morning. The urping started again and I ran into the bathroom with D and stood her in front of the toilet. It was when she started playing with the seat that I realized babies don't understand the toilet, let alone throwing up into it. Inste...

This is not about that shittily written book or the movie, which I will probably hate-watch when it comes to Netflix . Instead it’s about counting, assholes and how I can’t keep my footwear straight despite the fact that I only have like 6 pairs of shoes that fit. Last weekend I packed up the girls, tossed them and their crap in the car and headed out for errands. I had to return a pair of oxblood boots to DSW because the heel cap on one shoe disintegrated after 2 wears in my office. Of course they didn’t have any more in my size in the whole wide damn world, and so I had to return them (and of course get something else). The girls and I pursued the clearance racks because, well, sales, and I eventually picked out a pair of Adrienne Vittadini leopard flats that look like something logical I should own so I can chase babies, and a pair of gray d’orsay Vincent Camuto pumps. Admittedly the latter were somewhat rushed. These two are nothing alike. They can both stay. D was hold...

I’m a total clothes nut. So are my mom and both sisters. Mom also loves buying her grandchildren clothes. As a result, I have yet to really buy a lot of clothes for my girls, which is good because I think they were in 9 month sizes for literally a month, and then they shot up to 12 months, which they are now rapidly growing out of. They are also skinny and their pants fall down all the time leaving them standing in a diaper like life is one giant episode of “Pants Off Dance Off, ” but they need the height (cause they’re all of 2 feet tall).  Wearing 12 month clothes at 11 months isn't really an accomplishment, and they’re still kind of little peanuts even though they seem really huge compared to when they came home.I'm pretty sure the growth spurt is coming from their new love of food. So far they're not big fans of salami. That's it. They eat eggs, biscuits and gravy, pancakes, all kinds of fruits, veggies, tacos, tortillas. They even had salsa. Husband and I liter...

Atwell shift dress from Gilt. You know when the worst time to clean out your closet is? When you’re pregnant. With twins.  This is followed by a close second to when you’re on maternity leave. I did both of these things. Of course this left me with a random smattering of clothes that were probably kept for no reason other than whatever raging hormone induced logic prevailed that day. Recently I have managed to fit into two pair of pre-pregnancy pants, making my dreams of being me-shaped again sneak ever closer. Of course, the second I zipped up those mid-rise boot cut jeans that have to be worn with heels because they’re inexplicably long, I celebrated with a little dance and took stock of my closet. Like most women I have three to four different sizes at all times. Sometimes because of the cut, some for the fat days, some for the skinny days, and some for the really skinny days when you have also jammed your ass into a pair of spanx. For some reason my purge got rid of mos...