While we (Frank and I) would love for everyone to live under the impression that getting out of the house with two infants is, “no biggie” and “easy-peasy”, I think it’s time to blow that myth out of the water.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving at the K Compound less than an hour away from our house. Throw a few babies and some food in the car and go, right?

Ha.

Newbies.

First, we have to assess our laundry situation.  While letting the kids roll around in vomit-stained onsies is A-OK for most Thursdays, we actually have to make the kids look somewhat presentable for Thanksgiving. Which means that we have to find two coordinating outfits (yes, coordinating – don’t judge) and two coordinating back up outfits (I mentioned they [well, really Carrie] still vomit, right?). The vomiting has improved somewhat, which means that we just need pants and shirts. We are willing to gamble that they will not vomit so profusely that we will need to change their socks. (Which has been known to happen)

If they vomit that much, we’re coming home.

Second, Frank and I have an on-going battle regarding some of the girls’ accessories. Frank seems to be under the impression that there is such thing as A Bow That is Too Big. (From Frank: “This bow is literally, LITERALLY the size of their already off-the-scale large noggins. Add the extra cheek weight and the poor kiddos can barely hold their heads up. Normal bows, people say ‘aw, how cute’ – these bows, people say ‘aw, those poor kids.'”)

I am of the school of thought that there is no such thing as A Bow That is Too Big.

We spar for a few minutes on this topic, which involves me accusing my entire family of loving Frank more than me, a love which leads my family members to falsely state that they agree with Frank’s opinions on infant girl hair accessories. I tell ya – you live with people your entire life and BAM – they side with your spouse.  Bah. But that’s a blog post for another day.

Once we get their outfits planned, next comes the task of trying to figure out how many times the girls will need to eat and then packing twice as much in the off-chance that we stay longer than we think we will, etc, etc. Packing bottles and formula, gathering snacks, selecting mushed up nasty infant food containers, finding clean spoons, figuring out what else to feed the girls and how many bibs to bring (the magic number today was SIX, for those of you playing along at home) and then tracking down the beloved bunny-kin baby china set (yes, you read that right – the girls have inherited infant china from their GRANDFATHER from when HE was a child…).

Oh, and then we had to wash down the girls high chair seats because, as you may have heard, the girls tend to vomit/spit up/do the technicolor yawn ALL THE TIME (their highchairs detach from the bases and then plug into a portable base that attach to regular dining chairs). You’d be amazed at where I found vomit/food/mysterious substances.

Then, because both girls are on the move and OH.EM.GEE getting into EVERYTHING, we have to bring the baby corral.  And a blanket to put on the floor so that the aforementioned vomit doesn’t stain the carpet because when Carrie gets excited or moves quickly or laughs or does ANYTHING, she urps. (We asked the doctor about this at their last visit and the doctor said, “Well, is she upset about it?” and we said, “No, but we are!” and she shrugged her shoulders and said “put on your big boy/big girl undies and deal.”  OK, she didn’t say that last part, but that’s essentially what she said. And then Carrie puked. No seriously. Right there. For dramatic effect – and then she smiled proudly.)

So then we pack diapers.  I get a little over-zealous in this department and pack twenty for a three hour visit and then Frank dials it back to ten. And we pack toys. And pacifiers. And an extra blanket because well, if the twins do a big urp, we might need to switch out blankets for a fresh one.

While we are hunting down all of these items, we are realizing that even though WE JUST DID LAUNDRY, most of the items we need have to be washed!! Ah!

And then we stand there and look at the mountain of STUFF and realize that we STILL NEED TO GET OUR STUFF TOGETHER.

OK, so all that gets done and all of the baby stuff that can be placed by the door is placed by the door and then we make a check list of all the other stuff that is in the fridge or that has to be assembled in the morning so that we don’t forget ANYTHING.  We put the babies on the checklist because, and please tell me we are not alone, we are secretly VERY afraid that we will load up the car sans babies and not realize it until we are pulling up at Frank’s parents’ house an hour later. (“Aw crap, not again!”)

So, three hours after our “poop is in a group*” I am hiding upstairs writing this all down so that I can say to my children in ten years, “This is why Mommy cries.”

Frank is in the basement writing his memoirs entitled Why do Babies Need China Dishware? And Other Pressing Questions From a Pilot. I’ll let you know when the book gets picked up by a publisher.

Tomorrow, though, we will load up the car and splash on some perfume/cologne to hide the subtle yet nagging odor of vomit that seems to follow us everywhere, and act like, “Oh em gee, we rolled out of bed and the girls were fresh as daisies** and the car was packed and I don’t wear mascara*** – my lashes are totally this long always!”

Sure, it seems like a major headache to get out of the house with two infants, but in the end, it is totally worth it. Great times with family, wonderful memories made and delicious dinner enjoyed. And I am particularly thankful that this year Frank has Thanksgiving off and we can do all of this packing together.  Cuz lemme tell ya, both of us have had to do it alone and it is not pretty…

Happy Thanksgiving from our family to yours!!

*Poop in a group, as I just learned recently, is a very nice way of saying something else bad.

**This is a total falsehood.  Frank gave them a very thorough Frank-style bath tonight.

*** Love me some Mary Kay Mascara!!