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About me: I'm a 40-something mother to a pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our tween Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler Cam, and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). I'm a freelance graphic designer and writer.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Did they ever determine how many licks, dammit?

I haven't been to my blog for a week, and I can't even say where I've been exactly. Somewhere between my elbow and asshole I guess.

Caring for two children has turned my brain to absolute mush. I don't chew my food. Cutting my toenails feels like a luxury. I can't speak anymore. My brother Ted and his girlfriend Angela come out "Ed and Tangela." I tell Junior to wash his teeth and brush his face. I wake up with clenched fists.

Wait, no, that's wrong. I don't wake up—because I never sleep. Coordinating nap times between two kids is a feat I haven't been able to accomplish. And on the mornings Junior sleeps until 8 am, Diddly is up at 6:30 am, and vice versa. Or the nights that Diddly manages to sleep a 7-hour stretch, Junior wakes up screaming five times because his stuffed bear is tangled up in the sheets and HE CAN'T FIND IT PLEASE MOMMY WHERE IS MY BEAR?

You know that famous question, How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop? So over that. I like to ask How many layers of concealer does it take to cover Mrs. Mullet's freaken under-eye circles?

How many?!

I'm not complaining. I'm really not. I just never imagined it would be this much work. When one kid's pooping, the other is falling off the couch. When one is hungry, the other needs his hand taken out of the light socket.

And we haven't even started solids yet. You know what happens when you introduce the butternut squash and peas.


I do manage to get a break here and there, between Chuck, my mother and the mailman. But getting a break feels very much like the time between boxing rounds when your trainer shoots you in the face with water, wipes away the blood and shoves you back in the ring.

Get back in there! Now!

And sometimes getting a break actually makes things worse because you step off the ride for a day and whoah, all those brain cells that started to regroup and heal get rocketed back into the frying pan and suddenly it's all exploding pops! and snaps! and you can hear them screaming "Omigawd we're dying all over again."




Maybe I should, um, go to bed now. Go pet my withered, fragile brain cells while I have a few minutes of quiet.

There, there. There, there.






The Mother said...

I have no idea how many licks. I never managed to avoid biting, either.

I have no idea how to sleep when one has an infant, either, regardless of my large amount of practice. But I do recommend it.

Pricilla said...

Are you looking forward to going back to work?

Julia said...

Um. So are you saying you don't have time to read our blogs? Come on now. Heh heh...

Being a sleep deprived zombie is just miserable. I remember lots of yelling at my husband after Ella was born when he would ask "How can you not sleep?" or "I just don't know why you are so tired." Then there'd be lots of cursing from me.

I really really hope you get some rest. Time to call in some reserves and sleep for a few hrs in the day.

VandyJ said...

I had a slight advantage because Turbo was five almost six when we had Bruiser. There was an element of self sufficiency. and I was somewhat spoiled, Turbo was a wonderful sleeper--especially compared to Bruiser. Bruiser could not sleep more than an hour with out company from Mom. I did not sleep a night through until Bruiser was about 15 months. Maybe 18 months. Heck, I'm not really sure. those first months are such a blur. I could not have done it of two of them needed me at the same or slightly different times.

Keely said...

Oh, right, this. THIS is why I'm usually okay with being infertile!

(hope someone sleeps soon. And that it's you.)

Sharyn said...

Actually, as a bored and nerdy teenager, I once counted how many licks it took to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop. I showed great restraint in not biting it, and licking until all evidence of candy was gone from the stick. It took me a few days.

How many, you say?

I don't remember.

Sparkling said...

I always suck it until I get to the tootsie roll.

Wow, that sounds really inappropriate.

But with Blow Pops and Tootsie Pops, I'm always so afraid I'll break all my teeth, I actually don't bite them!!

I do spend a fair amount of time trying to put the stick out though, so though I won't break my teeth by biting down, I will pull them all out as I try to get that stick out!

Frogs in my formula said...

You know how many licks, Sharyn, but you aren't telling? Cruel!

marybt said...

I once licked all the way to the center. But I can't count past 43 so I have no idea how many it was. You would think that at least one of the people watching me lick that thing could count, but they could only go to 20. Well, one of them could only go to 18 because he was missing a couple toes.

If you really want to feel dumb, purchase a copy of the Bananagrams book. They are "easy puzzles that can be done in 10 minutes or less." Then, when it takes you 2 days to work one, you will compare it to how you feel now and you'll be like "Dude, I was a ROCK STAR!"

fmmomto3 said...

So it is time for a thrd I believe.