I read somewhere that the Spanish used to call their little ones criatura, or creature. After a week spent as a stay-at-home dad, I think the term creature is more fitting for both of my boys then say, darling, cutie pie, or even infant. A golden retriever is cute and cuddly, there is a bit more to the story of twin boys driving dad crazy.
Don't get me wrong, there is nothing better then holding one of these boys while exchanging smiles, so I will admit they are precious. But this doesn't change the fact that these boys have conspired to have me committed. I'm pretty sure that Finn uses ESP to tell his brother Eliot to cover the high pitched frequencies with his scream, while Finn covers the lower ones. Yes, all this screaming in unison is done to make sure that I slam my head into the wall enough times to entertain these fellas.
I haven't conceded defeat just yet, however. In fact, I would say overall things are going pretty good and I am learning more tricks each day. Not only have the boys learned to enjoy Johnny Cash, but they also have become picky
with the days song selection. They will usually be happy if I include any song with the harmonica, particularly "Orange Blossom Special." And if the three of us miss being depressed, we simply turn on the Chicago Cubs game in the bottom of the 7th. You have to feel bad for two boys born Cubs fans without a choice. They also have taken a liking to being out in the garden with the pups and I. No tomato tasting for them just yet, but they have no problem with a little dirt and a few bees. Just enough for the border collie to lick off their toes.
Visitors have been welcome, but can be quite annoying. I didn't know it was okay for every random friend and stranger to make a comment about Finn's double chin. Granted he has a large extra roll under his face, but I thought baby fat was allowed. My favorite was one of my friends, fairly jolly himself, provided a slow bellowing commentary to Finn's facial expressions. Each deep laugh was followed by eating noises like he was chowing a pie, all coming from a guy who belongs on a fried chicken commercial. Needless to say, my friend Chuckles has joked his way out of some home-grown tomatoes and maybe even sweet corn.
Well, time to change some diapers.
Don't get me wrong, there is nothing better then holding one of these boys while exchanging smiles, so I will admit they are precious. But this doesn't change the fact that these boys have conspired to have me committed. I'm pretty sure that Finn uses ESP to tell his brother Eliot to cover the high pitched frequencies with his scream, while Finn covers the lower ones. Yes, all this screaming in unison is done to make sure that I slam my head into the wall enough times to entertain these fellas.
I haven't conceded defeat just yet, however. In fact, I would say overall things are going pretty good and I am learning more tricks each day. Not only have the boys learned to enjoy Johnny Cash, but they also have become picky
with the days song selection. They will usually be happy if I include any song with the harmonica, particularly "Orange Blossom Special." And if the three of us miss being depressed, we simply turn on the Chicago Cubs game in the bottom of the 7th. You have to feel bad for two boys born Cubs fans without a choice. They also have taken a liking to being out in the garden with the pups and I. No tomato tasting for them just yet, but they have no problem with a little dirt and a few bees. Just enough for the border collie to lick off their toes.Visitors have been welcome, but can be quite annoying. I didn't know it was okay for every random friend and stranger to make a comment about Finn's double chin. Granted he has a large extra roll under his face, but I thought baby fat was allowed. My favorite was one of my friends, fairly jolly himself, provided a slow bellowing commentary to Finn's facial expressions. Each deep laugh was followed by eating noises like he was chowing a pie, all coming from a guy who belongs on a fried chicken commercial. Needless to say, my friend Chuckles has joked his way out of some home-grown tomatoes and maybe even sweet corn.
Well, time to change some diapers.
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