Tuesday afternoon is never ending

Yesterday was a long, long day. For some reason the babies were exceptionally fussy and my three-year old was exceptionally "busy." Busy meaning all.over.the.place. I don't know if wild babies inspire D to compete more for my attention, but he is very much of the mindset that any attention is good attention, even negative attention.

Breakfast was probably the only "calm" moment of the day. C and O are very impatient for their food. I am not sure how to teach 14-month old babies with no vocabulary "wait" or "it's coming." Lord knows I try. I talk to them as I prepare their food and try to have at least something ready to give them when I put them in their chairs. If they finish their banana before their oatmeal is ready, they get loud, especially C who is quite vocal. Leaving them out of the high chairs when they are hungry or while I'm preparing food is worse-- for breakfast. Often times I can make their lunch or dinner without them noticing. Breakfast, they are hungry and want to eat now. Letting them crawl/wander freely means screaming, helpless babies pulling on my pajama pants. Yes, containment is the better choice...

They have figured out how to drink from cups these past couple weeks, small cups with a little bit of water in the bottom:

The rest was pretty much downhill. The fussed when I got them dressed. They fussed through an early nap (I figured with all that fussing they were tired). D followed me into their room to yell, "GOOD NIGHT, LITTLE GUYS!" I really don't think that helped them nap. I tried to get ready the short time they were down. I told D to stay in the sunroom and play while I got dressed. Instead, he crept down the hallway to whisper, "Hey, Momma. What are you doing? Do you want to push trucks?" No. No, I would like to get dressed. In peace.

When they woke up from their brief nap, I threw lunches together and decided we were getting out of the house, staying in these four walls was probably going to drive me insane. While I got everyone ready, D hummed the same one line from a song over and over and over and over again... I would nicely ask him to stop, maybe sing something else (my face only ticking slightly when I asked). He would start singing something else and come right back to the same familiar bars. He is not a self-entertainer, so when he has a toy he wants to play with, he brings it to wherever I am to play with it right by me. If I send him to a different room, he will mope around and eventual come back to where I am, "What are you doing, Momma?"

The babies liked the idea of getting out of the house. Showing his enthusiasm:

We went to the Farmer's Market. I needed produce and it is fun place to walk with lots to look at. D did not believe me that the large green tomatoes were actually tomatoes and not apples. ("I don't know, Momma...") I fed the boys lunch in their stroller and gave D a snack, planning to give him his lunch in the car. Every time I slowed to look at produce or started a conversation with the employees, "Well, we plan on eating the tomatoes tomorrow. See, I'm going to make..." A baby would start crying, ready to get the stroller rolling again.

They were so fussy in the car that I took them home for a quick nap. C did not nap. Instead, he played with toys in his crib. O fell asleep. I assumed this would change his disposition, but I was wrong. We left to go meet up with a girlfriend of mine for some mall walking, making a detour for balloons, always a crowd pleaser.



Instead of turning that frown upside down, they played with the balloons for about 10 minutes before going right back into meltdown mode. D had his listening ears on and was being quite the gentleman, thank goodness. I ended up taking my boys and walking with them while my girlfriend finished lunch. Then D needed to use the restroom, of course when I had a screaming baby in the sling and a fussy one in the stroller. We struggle into the restroom, he does what he needs to, but can't reach the sink to wash his hands. Awkward business. O, who was in my sling, was not amused. The baby meltdown escalated from there. We thought walking to the play area would help distract the mad babies. By the time we reached the play area, O was inconsolable. I left. His meltdown reached epic proportions. He kept pulling his knees up like he was in pain. I ended up swinging by the pediatrician to have everything checked out and they were fine. It was just a long, long day.

We went home for dinner. D wanted to picnic on my family room floor with his pizza (read: red sauce), but since the babies were actually sleeping, I allowed it. We even made a good dent in The Giraffe, The Pelly, and Me by Roald Dahl. When the babies woke up from their late afternoon nap, they cuddled for a moment before fussing through their dinner. Around 6:30 pm I started debating how early was too early to put all the boys down for nap. I settled on 7:30 pm.

After getting the wild babies down for bed-- they went right to sleep with no issues-- I started getting D ready for bed. He helped fold the laundry. I'm not sure exactly how he helped, but he said he got a "lot of folding done" with his "big muscles." So, thank you, D.

My husband walked in the door just after 8:00 pm when I was reading D his last story before bed. He scooped D up to say his prayers and put him to bed, made himself a snack, then snuggled up next to me on the couch. I asked about his day and his group project. He asked mine and meeting up with my friend. I finish with, "It was a really long tiring day." His reply? "You have no idea. My day was exhausting."

Today I woke up to find D hanging out in the hallway outside his brothers' door, wearing a pair of their adjustable pants. The babies have been all smiles since they woke up. Right now they are all playing happily in the sunroom. The days where I feel like I cannot get a minute to myself are so long and exhausting. Teething can be nasty business.