Bribery and Denial

Well, that was a nice break.

After 12 nervous breakdowns, 11 bins of paper recycling, 10 baby temper tantrums, 9...well, you get the idea...we can successfully check Babies' First Christmas off the ole' milestones list.

Some parts of it were great. Turns out you can get away with damn near anything if you have twin infants. Like not cleaning the house before you throw a 13-person holiday party. And expecting the party-goers to bring all the food and drinks and hold/feed your children. And taking a nap in the middle of it all

And the baby outfits, of course, were delicious.

But the boys decided to party for 3 days straight, refusing to sleep for 12 hours at a time and then spending the nights in a state of sleep-deprived mania that led to copious amounts of fussing and more than episode of gratuitous parent begging and bribing. Turns out my children either have impeccable moral standards...or have yet to pick up on the subtleties of a good "extra bottle of formula" bribe.

So we survived the holidays. Hip Hip Hooray.

The boys also turned 3 months old a few days ago. And I'm embarrassed to admit that I thought that by 3 months, they'd be able to do more. Like sleep through the night. And hold their own bottles. And detail my Ford Focus. Okay, maybe not detail my car, but honestly, you've been alive for 3 months and you have yet to figure out how to hold a bottle to your mouth?!? That's kind of ridic.
And my mom's all, "well, they've been GROWING, and that takes a lot of work."
And I'm all, "well, detailing my own car takes a lot of work too, but you don't see me asking Brian to put my scotch in a sippy cup."
And then my mom looks me straight in the eyes with that I'm concerned about your parenting skills look and asks me how I've been holding up.
Whatevs.
All I know is that they'd better be sorting their own laundry by the age of 2, or I'm selling them to the circus.

Other fine points of parenting:
Before one freaks out over a potential child injury, one should inquire if one's spouse has been eating hot sauce.
Yes, those red spots all over your baby's onesie could be blood...or it could be the Louisiana Volcano Sauce that your husband holds near and dear to his heart.
Know the difference, people.

In other news, I re-homed my wonderful horse, Mikey. Turns out there's little point in paying for a horse you never use. Also turns out that Mikey's kind of a slacker and prefers lessons with little girls than the rigorous training schedule I had him on.
Go figure.
So he fell in love with a pair of girls (twins, ironically) who were leasing him over the winter, and I decided that the only thing dumber than paying for a horse you never use is paying for a horse you never use who is also a two-timing bastard who falls in love with someone else and suddenly treats you like yesterday's hay.
I kid.
I have nothing but love for that big galumf.
But because I love him, I decided to let him go. It was the right thing to do.
And I am in NO WAY looking for another horse.
Nope.
Not at all.
So if anybody knows of a reasonably priced jumper prospect, DO NOT tell me, because I'm NOT interested in possibly coming out to take a look at him.
No sir.
Not in a million years.

(call me)

So I've got a couple of 3 month olds that are GROWING (if not appropriately versed in hand-to-mouth motor skills), and a husband who likes to use them as hand wipes. We've survived the Holidays and our first 3 months together. I like them, and despite that I've resorted to tying the binkie to their heads with an old backpacking bandana (I'm not even lying about this), they still seem to like me.

I guess at this point, that's all that a new mom could ask for.