In Which I Explain Why You Might Find A Baby In My Clothes Dryer

I've been alone with the twins for 2 whole days while Brian returns to work. Well, 2 days once this day is over (which I'm sensing it will never, ever be).

Managing the twins has honestly not been that difficult. On a scale of 1 to 10, where 1 is lounging by the pool and 10 is climbing Everest in flip flops, I give solo twin duty about a 6.5, which is honestly better than I expected going into this mess.

However, I'm finding that managing the twins AND life is more like an 8.4. I honestly have no idea why it took me nine and a half hours to shower, go to the bank, and do the dishes, but I'm assuming it has a lot to do with the endless feedings and changings that occur in between these activities.

Naturally, I'm becoming a bit...frazzled.

For example, I keep losing babies.
Well, not so much losing them as forgetting where I put them. A few days ago I glanced over into the kitchen and was absolutely shocked to find a baby, sitting in a bouncer on the counter top.
No joke.
Apparently I had put him there earlier while I was attempting to make dinner, and since he wasn't complaining, I kind of, sort of forgot he was there. I also was surprised to find that I spent about 5 minutes cooing and talking to a pile of blankets which I thought was Isaac yesterday. It wasn't - Isaac was later located in a bassinet in the living room. And I'm sure the blankets enjoyed the one-on-one attention, but seriously?!? Someone hand me an espresso and some blow, because I need to wake the fuck up before I find myself printing out Missing Child flyers and signing up my Diaper Genie for ballet lessons.
I'm hoping this happens to all parents (or at least parents of multiples), but if it doesn't, may I say in my defense that I have yet to find a baby in a truly inappropriate place, like that time I found that I had put the smoke detector in the fridge. So far, there have been no babies found in large appliances, so I figure that's kind of a win.

Go me.

I also keep confusing the babies for the dogs.
(I know, just when you had talked yourself out of an anonymous call to CPS, I go and drop that bomb)

I do this utterly disgusting thing where I pick at my dogs' eye boogies and then let them eat them.
(yeah, yeah, I'm a horrible person. Spare me your speech on animal cruelty and hygiene - I've already gotten it from my family and friends).
Well...apparently I tried to offer Simon one of his eye boogers the other night. It was only for like a split second, and then I realized that my children were NOT my dogs and therefore might not have a palate for eye crusties. Unfortunately, I received a look from Simon upon being offered his own eye gunk that suggests that he will remember this moment for years to come, so I can't say he's escaped completely unscathed from my horrible parenting.

And we're ONLY on day two, folks.

And then we were at the drive-through at the bank today, I was taken aback when I realized that they didn't include the dog biscuits that they usually enclose with the transaction receipt. For realz, I actually raised my hand up to hit the call button and request the treats...
...until I realized that it was because I had babies in the back seat, as opposed to dogs.

(It was right about then that I suspected that I was losing my mind)

I'm 83% sure that with a proper nights' sleep and maybe the daily assistance of an illegal immigrant, I would lose the babies less and stop mistaking them for Milo and Jericho.

That said, I'm not expecting a proper nights' sleep for the next..oh...15 years, and I can't afford help, even if I can get away with paying them a ridiculously low amount.

So, I guess I'm stuck with having to triple check that the babies aren't wearing dog collars...or that I haven't just tried to burp a pile of dirty laundry.