“The crazy lady with a thousand kids.” In my head this is who my neighbors must think I am. They aren’t wrong. It’s definitely an appropriate title. Four kids, two bad dogs, one fish (yes, we killed almost all of the fish from my post), and a crazy husband and wife duo makes for an insane household. We usually do a good job of keeping the crazy behind closed doors…except when we don’t.
The other day I decided that I was going to take advantage of the quiet, sunny afternoon and take the Twins on a walk. We’re working on getting them used to wearing their backpacks with the leashes instead of riding in the stroller. I never thought I’d have a leash on my kids but I also never thought I’d have twins. Holy hell those little monsters can haul ass when they put their minds to it! Leashes are a must until they learn to stay next to me and not run after a strange bug or cute dog or really anything even remotely distracting that walks across their path. Anyway, a walk sounded like a great idea and to get them excited about it I repeatedly mentioned going on a walk while I got them ready. The phrase “tiny pitchers” clearly applies to more than humans though.
Moose and Luna (The Little Bad Dog) are normally pretty good about not running out when I open the front door. They like to stand in the doorway and watch me load the twins in the Mom Van every morning. I thought nothing of it when they moved towards the front door with us. I quickly realized my mistake as they both shot straight out of the door and down the road as soon as I opened it. The girls were hot on their heels so there was no leaving them inside.
Down the street we went, running like we’d just escaped some sort of summer camp for the deranged. We were a blur of bright colors. Arms and legs flailed. Dogs barked. Leashes flapped in the wind. The Twins laughed and shouted “Dog!” while I screamed for the dogs to get back in the house.
Moose quickly cowered and ran to our gate so I could put him in the back yard. He’s not as stupid as he looks. The Little Bad Dog had other plans. She ran across the street and into the neighbors yard. I quietly said, “shit” then put on my sweet Mommy voice and talked to the Twins about crossing the road. I held their leashes since they refused to hold my hands and I couldn’t pick them both up and run without tripping over my dress. As soon as we made our way across the street Luna ran into the next yard. Again, “shit!” The Conqueror and The Hun each ran a different direction (neither of them heading after the dog) and both fell flat on their backs like little turtles. “Shit!”
I helped them up as they giggled and squealed and we resumed our chase. Luna circled a tree. The Twins tried a divide and conquer approach. In cartoon fashion, as they got closer to the dog from either side of the tree she bolted. Now we were all tangled and the dog was running across the street again. “Shit!”
I helped the now crying girls off the ground again and across the street we ran. Or attempted to run. Down went The Hun. Poor baby tripped over her feet and went down hard on the asphalt. “Shit!” I said. “Shit!” She said. Oh God! It finally happened!
I picked her up and we all continued our run after the stupid freaking dog. As I screamed for Luna to come back my toddler posse came with me chanting “Shit! Shit! Shit!” I tried correcting with “shoot!” to no avail. Luna taunted the neighbors dog. (Have I mentioned that she’s an asshole?) When The Conqueror fell and scraped her knee I decided that the neighbor’s dog could just eat Luna and steered The Twins back towards the house. The stupid dog followed (far enough back that she knew I couldn’t reach her).
By the time we got inside we were all sweaty and gross but no one was crying and the cursing had stopped. I decided that we’d had enough outdoor adventuring and turned on Sesame Street for The Twins and fixed them some juice. Then I kicked the dog out of the house and into the backyard with Moose. Fortunately we haven’t had a repeat of our little cursing incident. I’ve chalked it all up to a big lesson in parenting and dog ownership. Hopefully it never happens again because if the neighbors didn’t think I was crazy before I’m sure they do now.
Mom Van Confessions 