At Any Given Time

At any given time someone, somewhere in this house, is making a gigantic mess.
There is absolutely no way I can stay on top of it.
I made dinner one night. I spent a whole 20 minutes in the kitchen.




That was when Oliver and Griffin came into the kitchen. They were drenched.

" Need Kleenex" demanded Oliver, king of the understatements.

The last time Oliver said " Need Kleenex" the entire bathroom had been smeared in poop. I was in there for about 2-1/2 hours and went through quite a bit of bleach.

I went into the playroom to discover the fish tank was loaded, LOADED, with toys. Water had poured over the sides, it was on the floor, the sofa, it was everywhere. A Kleenex wasn't going to cut it. Every train, Playmobil figure, Toy Story character, Brio person, puzzle piece and plastic animal that they could stuff in there had been stuffed in. The worst part? They did this LAST week. We had JUST cleaned out the fish tank, replaced the gravel ( last week's episode included dumping the light into the bottom of the tank before filling the tank with toys. There was broken glass in the tank) and we'd bought a new fish.
Now here we were, back at square one. Clearly I should never make dinner. Or perhaps I should handcuff them to the wall while my eyes are off of them.
Yesterday it wasn't even the kids, it was the cat. While I was sorting out Holden's quarter fiasco Chloe decided it was high time she contributed to the great and glorious mess. So she went into the twins room and dug her way through their wardrobe, making herself a cozy bed in the process.
Laurel screeched with delight when she saw the piles of clothing and began hopping in it.
" I dancing in DA mess!"
Yeah, great.

Of course one of my all time favorite disastrous messes occurred at the beginning of the school year last year. I made Oliver go to the bathroom before we left to get Holden. This was shortly after the gigantic poop smear debacle and I wanted to keep an eye on him. Of course that meant Laurel and Griffin had no eyes on them for 5 minutes.
A lot can happen in 5 minutes
They found the litter box.
Had they just put there hands in there I could have washed their hands and we'd be on our merry way. But thats not what happened. They had toys in there, they poured litter on themselves and each other. Not just a little USED litter on their laps. No, it was ALL of the litter. They smeared it on their faces, dumped it on each others heads, it was in their hair, in their ears, between their toes. They were COVERED and they STUNK and I needed to leave RIGHT THEN to go get Holden.
I called everyone I knew that went to Holden's school. Of course this was the beginning of the year so everyone I knew was about 5 people. By the time I got to person number 5 I said something like:

Idon'trememberwhoIcalledbutthisisCatharyn, Holden'smom,canyoupickhimup?

Fortunately they could and did. That was the first time Laurel and Griffin had a bath together. Oliver thought the whole thing was hilarious. I wasn't as enthralled as Oliver was by the twin's antics .


Every time I clean one room I turn around to find someone trailing in my wake, with an upside down open container of fish food.

As soon as I mop a floor someone spills milk on it.

As soon as I sweep someone finds some secret long forgotten stash of cheerios, and grinds them into the floor.

As soon as I clean the bathroom someone gets distracted while peeing.

While I am picking up toys in one room some one is inevitably taking out playdoh in another.

When I painted Holden and Oliver's room Griffin busied himself with scribbling all over a bookshelf.

Jeff taught Oliver how fun it was to draw on a tablet PC. So Oliver tried it on his own one day... with a sharpie. [incidentally Mr. Clean Magic Eraser is the key to removing sharpie from laptop PCs].

When Holden was in preschool he learned that everyone puts their name on their things. So he put my name on my $300 handbag, in ballpoint pen.

Every time I turn around...I wish I hadn't.

I Have That Kid, You Know the One...

I definitely have " that" kid. You know the one....
I should have known years ago at my very first parent/teacher conference at his preschool. I was all ready to learn about the fabulous skills he'd acquired, the progress he'd made, the social skills he'd developed.
I went in to the conference full of eager anticipation. His teacher told me he was friendly blah blah blah... and he was very proud when he pooped. He'd come back and tell the whole class. There were some kids that would not poop at school so this allowed for an intro into a discussion about how its healthy for your body to go when you need to go. Other kids were amazed at his brave nature. They could not believe he would really poop at school, away from the safety of his own toilet. My child had , through his examples of bravery, enabled other students to let go of their fear and they too could now poop at school.
So I walked away from this meeting feeling that while everyone else had learned about all the wonderful strides their child had made thus far, I learned that my kid was a good pooper.

Today should not have been a surprise. And yet it was. The phone rang this morning and I saw from the caller ID that it was the school district calling. Oh no... something bad.
Hello?
Yes, It seems as though your son has swallowed a quarter.

Um.. WHAT? He did? [ He is almost 7, kids don't do this past the age of 2, right?]

He is OK, and breathing, but you need to come get him.

Of course I'd just put the babies down for a nap. Of course they were sleeping soundly and I'd been anticipating an hour or so of blissful silence during which I planned to nurse the headache I've had for FIVE days now.
I woke the babies, and drove to school. My son was waiting in the office, looking pale and upset. The nurse had given him water and he had that with no problems. I had already spoken with our DR's nurse who had told me to come in to see the DR and discuss Xrays.
I asked why he had swallowed a quarter when I had packed him a lunch. He didn't know. I asked where he got the quarter.
A girl was throwing it.
So you ATE it?
Yes.
Why?
I don't know. Am I in trouble?
No.

We went home and I called the DR again, since we weren't scheduled to see him until later in the afternoon. I wanted to make sure it was OK for him to eat/ drink normally. This time I spoke with the DR who said I didn't need to come in. As long as he could breathe and wasn't complaining about chest pains, then it would probably just pass.
So we've been sitting at home, in our hot house, watching cartoons and listening to the VERY GRUMPY babies complain.
I offered him a choice of fruit or change. He chose fruit. He vows not to eat any more change.

Sleep

I'm looking forward to my upcoming foot surgery so I can get a little sleep. I long for anesthesia. I can't remember the last time I was able to have a long stretch of sleep.
Maybe after my C section when I had the nurse put the twins in the nursery for the night? Much to the nurse's disgust I OK'd a bottle feeding and said I wanted sleep. I had 2 kids at home and special needs kids don't sleep.
Oliver used to wake around 1 am and stay awake until 6 am. Not just kinda awake. Not just playing in his bed. No, he was UP. He would get out of bed, go into the living room, dump all the throw pillows onto the floor and jump off of the sofa onto them. He would shriek with delight. He would tear through the house giggling. He would shake with excess energy. No one could sleep through Oliver. He would then go to preschool where he'd pass out on the floor. An expensive preschool. We were paying to have him nap. We talked to the pediatrician who suggested we get him a special bear to sleep with. Clearly that would never work, but I gave him one. He was not interested in a bear. The pediatrician suggested fear of the dark and thought we should invest in night lights. I didn't think he was afraid of the dark since he was happy to run around our pitch black house between 1 and 6:00 am. But I got a night light. A cool Buzz Lightyear night light. He likes the night light, but it didn't help with the sleep issues. We called in a sleep therapist. Sleep therapists are $225 an hour.
By this point I'd had the twins and my one good night of sleep. I didn't feel guilty about the twin's bottle feeding, I didn't succumb to the guilt which that nurse heaped on me when I wanted the twins to sleep in the nursery. This was my one shot at sleep and I'm glad I took it. I look back on that night fondly.
Everyone, friends, my OB, random strangers, told us we needed help in those first few weeks with twins.
You will get no sleep, they sagely informed us.
You've never experienced sleep deprivation like this.
We hired a night nanny for those first few weeks that everyone told us to dread. She was experienced with twins and preemies. She loved being a night nanny. I don't know why anyone would like that, let alone love it. Staying up all night listening to babies cry? Fun. She was amazing with the babies. They loved her. We joked about how our children would have this vague memory of this fantastic blonde mom but then the memory would morph into images of me and Jeff. The poor kids would wonder what happened.
As it turns out twins aren't so bad. Sure they are up more because they wake each other, but here is the thing: they also sleep. See, Oliver didn't. So we had this wonderful night nanny but since Oliver was tearing around the house it didn't really matter. We still couldn't get any sleep. Holden was fascinated by this woman who would sometimes be in our house in the middle of the night. He thought she was the tooth fairy. After all the tooth fairy arrives when you are sleeping, right? He was so excited when he'd see her and he'd run to me to report his sightings.
Unfortunately Oliver's sleeping habits negated the help of a night nanny so we ended that arrangement.
The sleep therapist arrived and we spent an hour or so describing our situation. She had a lot of suggestions. In the end, we gave Oliver Benedryl. Every night. For about a year. He sleeps now. When he does wake up he doesn't run through the house. He gets into our bed. Along with everyone else. Its not ideal, but not worth the fight of getting him back in bed. At least we get an hour or two at a time.
Laurel and Griffin are in toddler beds. They have free reign once they are up. We usually have someone join us at the 4 am mark. If both join us then we are in for some sort of altercation over a pillow or just the right spot. There have been times when all 6 of us are in our bed. There is ALWAYS a fight if that happens. Someone took someone's spot and they were there first and its their turn to be next to mommy and he always gets to be there and its not fair and she took my bear and thats my blankie and I had that first...
THIS IS MY BED AND THERE IS NO FIGHTING IN THIS BED! IF YOU WANT TO FIGHT YOU GO TO YOUR OWN ROOMS!
So now that our sleep schedule is relatively sorted out and we get a whole 3 hours at a stretch I introduce a 6 week old kitten into the mix.
Guess who pooped under the bed at 5:30 am?

A Sad Farewell and a New Beginning

Olivia was not quite 13 years old when we had to put her down. Her cancer, which came on suddenly, spread to her bones. She was miserable. Saying Goodbye was heartbreaking, especially for Holden. He sobbed uncontrollably. I didn't think we'd get another cat so soon. I wasn't sure how Olivia's sister, Chloe, would take to a new cat introduced too quickly. However, Holden's heartbreak seemed somewhat alleviated by the idea of a new kitten. So I went on Craig's list.
There at the top of the pets listings was the ad for all black poly dactyl 6 week old kittens. I called the number and a woman whose voice was raspy from years of smoking answered the other end. There were 5 kittens available and she'd be home all day. I called the vet and made an appointment for 1:30, then I called the raspy voiced woman and said we'd be there at 1:00.
I then realized that meant that Griffin and Laurel wouldn't be napping. Oh well, so they'll be hyper and horrible. At 12:30 I loaded all four kids into the car and we drove over to the raspy voiced woman's house .
I unloaded the kids at the house which was 3 different shades of green. We rang the bell and the stereotype of " crazy cat lady" arrived at the door. She carefully opened the screen with her dragon length long gray nails. Her greasy hair , which was carefully parted in the middle , lay in two straight planks on either side of her face. Her clothing was colorless and shapeless. Her voice was somehow more raspy in person. The kids barged on in, undeterred by the horrendous cat smell. Hey, a new adventure, lets make ourselves at home!
Cat Lady led us down a dank and narrow hallway to a small bathroom where the quasi feral cats had been barricaded. A plank of wood prevented them from escaping and kept them confined to a small area next to the toilet. The bathtub was smeared with small kitten prints of poop. The mother cat hissed as though she'd never seen a human before. Laurel and Griffin suddenly realized kittens were in there and started yelling " A CAT! A CAT! A KITTY! LOOOOOOK! CAT! CAT!" which didn't seem to aid in calming the already stressed litter. The mom cat disappeared, happy to abandon her litter when faced with human interaction. Two of the kittens tried to hiss menacingly, but I am unfazed by 3 ounces of pure venom. I picked up one of the kittens who was huddled next to a sibling. He had a sweet face and he trembled in fear as I held him. The stench was starting to get to me and we had a vet appointment to keep. I gave Cat Lady her money and we headed off to the vet with Paddington, our new kitten.
Holden's mood changed abruptly from distraught and inconsolable to pure delight as he sat next to Paddington on our short drive to Corte Madera.
We arrived at the vet and Paddington was examined and dewormed. The vet asked several questions about the feral nature of the mom etc and I explained that not only had the kittens clearly not been socialized , but the woman selling them had not been socialized either, the entire household seemed a bit feral.
The kids all fell apart and could not even pull it together to watch Nemo in the the waiting room. I took them out to the car and the vet brought Paddington out when he was ready.
Paddington remained pretty fearful for that first day , but by day 2 he was brave.
He is now attacking Chloe's tail, much to her absolute horror, and attempting to take over any of her special places throughout the house.
We still miss Olivia, but I think we all needed a little Paddington in our lives.

Summer

I had been both looking forward to and dreading the beginning of summer. School would be out and I'd have all four kids at home. How was that supposed to work? Well, it did work, for the most part.
Holden ( 7) had a week of camp which he loved. Oliver's school has a 2 month summer session for special needs kids, 4 hours a day, and the twins trailed around after me.
We broke up the summer with some weekend trips to Tahoe, a short camping adventure ( local in case of catastrophe), and our big trip;- 2 weeks to the east coast. That was the trip I feared yet anticipated. 4 children on a plane? One of whom is special needs? Two of whom are 2? Mostly I feared the special needs factor. How would Oliver react to so many unknowns?
I tried to prep everyone as much as I could. I talked about waiting in lines, about how airports are crowded, about how we check our bags and wait in more lines and go through security and wait our turn and wait and lines and wait and lines....I bought children's books about airline travel, I talked about how we put our bags under our seat, there are bathrooms on the plane, there is food on the plane, there are movies on the plane. I thought I had it covered. I didn't. Of course. I failed to mention we take off our shoes when going through security. This was NOT OK. There was yelling and shrieking and collapsing but we eventually made it through relatively unscathed.
My stress level was up as I prepared myself for whatever sort of mishap a special needs child could bring to a situation. Oliver was fine. We boarded the plane. I had Oliver and Laurel. Jeff had Holden and Griffin. We take up an aisle. As passengers boarded they viewed our aisle with fear and apprehension.
We settled into our seats and I began doling out lollipops. I brought 2 large bags. Soon enough we were in the air and our trip had begun. As we reached cruising altitude the woman in front of Laurel reclined her seat. And THAT was the beginning of the end. Since Laurel was in a carseat her legs were squished. She screamed and shrieked and yelled. Then she let out blood curdling cries . She kicked and writhed and yelled. The flight attendants helpfully told us to keep her quiet. Oh, quiet? She shouldn't shriek? Why, I had not thought of that. Her screaming is music to my ears so I hadn't even noticed it. The woman resolutely kept her seat completely reclined while glaring at Laurel. The flight attendants asked if getting her some water would help. Um.. no. Then they told us to make her quiet. I tried putting her on my lap, telling her stories, giving her limitless lollipops. It was too late. She had prepared herself to shriek for hours on end and thats what she was going to do. Period. She yelled and shreiked on my lap for 6 hours. 6 LONG hours. I quietly resented having paid for her seat. She wiped lollipop all over my arm, she had lollipop stuck in her matted hair. There was lollipop stuck on the seat and on the floor. She continued to shriek. Across the aisle Holden played with a game and Griffin looked out the window.
When we finally landed the horrible woman, who had kept her seat reclined the entire time , held her phone back to video/record the shrieking, while telling her friend how horrible the flight had been.
The flight attendants gave everyone in the surrounding rows vouchers for a free movie.

Things did not get any easier when we landed. Oliver had had enough. He decided he didn't want to be buckled in any longer. He was ready to get off the plane, which would have been fine had we already landed. So he started having a fit. An Oliver sized fit. He shrieked and screamed and kicked and yelled. I had to hand Laurel to Jeff since I couldn't have the 2 tantrums on my side. I had to get Oliver in a straightjacket hold as we landed. He was a wreck. By the time the plane hit the ground my arm muscles had begun to tremble from overuse.
At this point I had absolutely no clue how we were going to get through the airport. 4 children, luggage,car seats, carry ons are hard enough but 2 tantrums going at the same time creates an impossible situation. Just then the nicest man on the planet appeared. He was traveling by himself, he had 2 small children and understood, could he help us get through the airport?
Normally I would never take someone up on something like this. I never used to be the kind of person who accepted help, no matter how badly I needed it. 4 kids and special needs have changed my outlook. I took him up on it.
So the nicest man in the world stayed with me for TWO HOURS after the plane landed. He helped collect luggage, he helped load car seats onto a cart, and he stayed with me while Jeff went to get the rental car. Or I should say while Jeff went to get the rentals carS.
Laurel and Oliver had never recovered from the flight, both were horrible, screaming, miserable children. I locked them in strollers. I videotaped the horror of their yelling. The nicest man in the world tried to read them stories. Meanwhile Jeff was given a car which was promptly taken away because it was " broken". Then he got a car which did not have a 3rd row seat. Finally he got a Dodge Durango, with a 3rd row seat and complimentary GPS for our troubles. We never found the GPS. Dodge Durangos have zero extra storage. The kids had strollers between them, but we had a car and we were on our way.
We braved central park, FAO Schwarz, the Natural History Museum, Grand Central Station, we visited friends in Long Island. The kids loved catching fireflies. I loved that the kids finally got to see fireflies. I associate catching fireflies with being a kid. California kids miss out on fireflies.
We drove to MA to see my mom , the kids swam in the same lake I swam in as a kid. Oliver brought his Buzz, Woody, and Alien everywhere he went. In the water , to museums, everywhere.
Holden's pet firefly, Fire, died while we were in MA. We brought him to my dad's grave and he taped a note to the gravestone :
Grandpa, take care of my firefly. Luv Holden

I don't have the energy to detail the visit with my mom so I'll skip ahead to our return to New York. We didn't have that much time left and we'd begun to feel the crunch of time. There was so much we wanted to do, most of it way too hard to accomplish with kids.
I did want to get to Coney Island. Seedy and awful as it is I've always loved Coney Island. We knew it could be a disaster but we braced ourselves for it.
We drove out there and parked. The boys peed in the parking lot. I figured that was more sanitary than any bathroom at Coney Island. Then we went right to Nathans for corndogs. Initially Oliver was upset because he expected a hotdog and he got... this brown thing. Once he realized the hotdog was inside we were OK for a few minutes.
The air was hot and salty and smelled like Coney Island . I missed being a photographer and the freedom I'd had pre kids. We walked through the park and the kids played the games that everyone wins ( shoot water through the clowns mouth, catch a duck with a fishing pole). Oliver got mad because he didn't want the prize, he wanted to keep the plastic duck he'd caught.
We went on a few rides in the kiddie area . It was really hot and humid and we decided to get ice cream. We walked along the boardwalk hoping for frozen custard ( where was the famed Coney Island frozen custard?) and settled for soft serve which melted instantly.
Oliver got ice cream on his jean shorts , so he needed them off. If there is anyplace on the planet where you can be naked, screaming, and covered in chocolate and sand, and blend in, its Coney Island. No one took a second glance.
The flight home had its minor mishaps, but this time I was better prepared. I had 3 bags of lollipops. Holden was fascinated by the fact that we took the subway from the rental car garage to the airport. No one else was. There were long lines everywhere but so far so good. The line to get through security was sort of insane. We all waited without incident. The incident occured when it was time to take off our shoes. And the Alien had to got through Xray. This was unacceptable. Oliver did not want to let go of his alien. He screamed , he thrashed, he attempted to take it back. He didn't want to go through the archway thing we had to walk through. I tried to carry him through while he screamed and kicked. Apparently airport alarms go off if you kick the sensors. Thats something I learned on this trip. I'm sure people were glaring and horrified but I'm kind of over it. I figure there are people out there that are generally interested in whats happening with your child, but mid tantrum isn't the best time for long explanations. Then there are the people who have already decided that your child is the way he is because you are clearly the worst parent ever, and I'm not bothering to explain to them special needs blah blah. I've also figured out that once people realize you plan on doing nothing to alleviate the situation ( since I can't change the fact that the alien has to go through xray , there just isn't much I can do) then suddenly they start helping a little more because they want you to go away.
Once we were on the plane all went relatively well. The kids were calm, even though take off was delayed for 2 hours. No one yelled. No one fussed. No one shrieked.
Then Laurel had diarrea. Bad diarrea. I found out because she screamed " Oh YUCKY" and wiped it ON MY FACE. So I used baby wipes to get it off of me and her then I got up to take her to the bathroom which is when I saw that the line was about 15 people long. So I went up to first class where they explained that I needed to wait with my low end counterparts. So I explained that Laurel had diarrea and I needed to use a bathroom NOW. I was in there for a while. I threw away her clothes and she wore Holden's extra PJ top as a dress.
That was it. We did it. An east coast trip with 4 kids. Phew.