If you ain't got no money, keep yo' broke ass in daycare!

Chugging along towards the twins' second birthday, i have a nagging thought in the back of my head:

how am i supposed to make pre-school work for the girls and myself?

See, here's the thing: around 3 years of age, a lot of parents start thinking about placing their kids in pre-school to prepare them for kindergarten. However, pre-school does not keep your child for the same length of time as daycares do, and many of them don't keep your child 5 days a week.

Which means, if you work, you'll still have to find childcare arrangements for your child until you get off work.

Now, i don't know if you noticed, gentle reader, but it was a nightmare just trying to find a daycare that i could afford. Having completed that mission, i know how to set my sights on finding a pre-school i can afford with aftercare services i can also afford.

Which, in the long run, is going to end up costing me even more money.

That i don't have. And may not have when the time comes because....no one is going to get a raise at my job until fiscal year 10-11.

And we may not even get one then.

Here's the harsh reality of the situation: unfortunately something as important as access to education for your child is based on your financial ability. If you don't have it, then no, little Kimmy is not going to be able to take language classes or go to a award winning pre-school.

and if little Kimmy is poor, she's going to go to her crappy neighborhood school.

and if little Kimmy graduates from a crappy school, she may not do well on her SAT.

but if she does and gets into a school but can't get financial aid, she ain't going to college.

and then Kimmy is going to be working in Burger King, dating convicts, rapping her orders, and telling customers who want to change their orders "Gurrrl, i will CUT.YOU!"












Yeah, yeah, the girls are only 21 months old. I have plenty of time to sort all of this out. But the whole notion has me feeling a little panicky, knowing this new problem is right around the corner.


Kinda like Uncle Frank in the attic, except with eyelids. Being caught out there unprepared can make a person a little jittery....

In Memoriam

When we look back upon the ones who were lost on September 11, 2001, rarely does anyone talk about the children who perished. Children taking trips with parents. Children excitedly flying across the country to take part in a special reward for doing well in school. Sibling groups. 


Children as young as Trixie and Dixie. 


All of the children lost were on the planes. Some had their parents with there to comfort them. Some hopefully were comforted by others on their plane. Comtemplating the horror and devastation felt by those parents left behind is almost too much to bear. 

I want to list these names and not only mourn for the loss their families have suffered but also for the loss to our society. What kind of people would they be now? How would they be doing in school? What colleges would they be attending this fall?


What might these children have accomplished in their lives if given the chance? 

Christine Lee Hanson - Age 2


David Reed Gamboa Brandhorst - Age 3


Dana Falkenberg - Age 3


Juliana Valentine McCourt - Age 4


Zoe Falkenberg - Age 8


Bernard Curtis Brown II - Age 11


Asia S. Cottom - Age 11


Rodney Dickens - Age 11

I tried to tender my resignation.

i asked a friend this weekend "why do i feel so burned out by midday on the weekends?"

the answer to that question is "because you have twin toddlers."

after watching my girls zip from one corner and then zoom to the other, i am convinced that that inspiration for the Gremlins' Christmas Party had to have come from the energy and attention span of your average 20 month old.



and so, after many hours of chasing, saying no, and stop, and get down, and that's not a toy....and gritting my teeth as i watch a child purposefully suck milk into her mouth for the sole purpose of letting it dribble down her shirt and legs to the floor....by Sunday afternoon, i'd had enough. so, i decided to quit. i found a scratch of paper that used my be a piece of mail and hastily scribbled out my goodbyes.

"you people with the eyelashes: i quit this bitch!"

as my last act as their mother, i fixed trixie and dixie lunch. then i took a shower, got dressed, and left.

i took myself to lunch and at without anyone trying to snatch my food away from me.

and then i sat outside with a glass of wine. and i slouched. and i put my feet up.

and at no time did i have to tell anyone no, stop, get down, or that's not toy.

it was marvelous.

i sat there and i thought about how carefree my life used to be and how on the weekends, i could sleep as long as i wanted, go wherever i chose, and....waste an inordinate amount of time and money trying not to feel so lonely and sad .

and then, after a few hours, the warden called and informed me that i didn't actually quit: i was just on furlough. my services in the Prison Kitchen were needed.

something or another about "dinner."

i grudgingly went back home but after getting there and being greeted my hugs and kisses, i couldn't remember why i'd wanted to get away so badly.

and here i was just using some old Tupperware!

we humans are funny. and by "funny" i mean crazy as hell.

for instance: i love how we can't find a cure for AIDS or cancer, but can invent little decorative boxes to keep our children's body parts in!!

behold, the Umbilical Box

the company who has brought you this, also has boxes to store your kids' teeth and fingernails. and when they graduate from college and find a menial low-paying jobs, you can get them one to keep their hopes and dreams in.

i think those boxes come with tear stains on the top.

and in 13 years, they won't talk to me at all

Trixie and Dixie have certainly been talking their little pants off lately. which is both exhilarating and terrifying.

exhilarating because i get a kick out of Dixie's insistent "nyooo!" and out of Trixie's earnest "uh-owhhh." as well as they way they ask if it's time to "eat?" how the tell me their body parts "noh....eye....ear...har...." how they tell other kids at daycare stop, and sister, and no ma'am! and how when told to do something, they respond "i will!" with attitude.

and hilarious how, despite his best efforts to be called Papá, Trixie has christened her father "DADah!"

terrifying because....weren't they just babies? wasn't that them in their car seats sitting inside the shopping cart at Sam's on our Saturday morning shopping excursions?

wasn't that just me so excited that they could pull themselves up to a stand at the couch?

one of the hardest things for a modestly middle class family to do is pay daycare expenses for multiples. i have often asked god to please, speed up along to kindergarten for a break in expenses.

....i didn't mean it, god.

Summer Storms

yesterday evening, after getting everyone home from daycare a storm blew through. since this storm didn't have the added special effects of "thunder" and "lightening" (which then evokes "terror"and "screaming" and "running"), i decided to open the patio door so Trixie and Dixie could see "esta lloviendo! it's raining, chicks!"

Trixie and Dixie were pretty impressed! and when the good times were over and it was time to shut the door, I soon discovered that Dixie loved it a wee bit more than Trixie did and took it quite personally when i decided to close the door...

What happened next will go down in our family history as the night mommy needed a young priest, an old priest, a vial of holy water, and a flask of whiskey to overcome the terror from within. I have a picture of the incident, but until i have a chance to upload it, you'll have to make due with this illustration:




as i was shutting the door, Dixie started to protest.

as the door was being shut, she started jumping up and down.

by the time the door was shut completely, she clocked completely out. This included

- throwing herself down onto the floor
- turning read in the face
- biting her fingers on her hand in rage
- rolling across the floor to my legs
- pulling herself up by my pants legs
- trying to rip my pants off my body
- making a grab for my shirt, which i deflected
- throwing herself back into the floor and,
- while stiffening her body, howling in rage.

throughout the entire thing, Trixie kind of stood off to the side, eyes round in disbelief. Finally she and I sat on the couch and just watched the drama unfold. This was also my only way of making sure Trixie didn't somehow end up with her toupee torn off in the event Dixie decided to take her tantrum to Cage Match levels.

and this went on for 15 minutes until she was finally finished. after which, we went to the bathroom, put cool water on her face, and dried it with a towel.

and for the rest of the evening, she was my same old sweet toddler. by this time, the rains had stopped outside as well.

these sudden summer storms really do inspire "terror" and "running," don't they?

Confessions of a Bad Mother: Snacks? What Snacks?

i got another one of those fantastic weekly emails that notes how old your child is and what you should expect last night. this came from pampers.com, telling me (a few days early) that hoooooray my child is now 20 months.

and as i was scanning the email, making tiny check marks beside all of the things i do "right" and beside what the twins are doing on target, i got to this line:

At this age, meals are generally short affairs. Make the most of the time your toddler does spend eating by offering him calorie-dense foods six times a day (three meals, three hearty snacks).

uh, sorry? three hearty snacks? three? snacks? EVERYDAY???

this is the part where i pull out the cat-of-nine-tails and practice some public mortification of my flesh.....i don't really give my kids snacks.

yes, i said it.

i feed them like they are people. breakfast, lunch, dinner. milk, juice, water. maybe on occasionally a cracker or 2, give or take 20.

but that's it, people!

so after reading that email and having a panic attack (scurvy! they're going to get scurvy!!), i decided to change my evil ways and get them ladies some snacks! and i must say, the snacking has gone over like gangbusters. as a matter of fact, when i gave them bananas, Dixie actually said "ooooooooooooooooooooooh!" while making a grab for it.

i am amazed at the stuff that never occurs to me until im finding out i'm not doing it right. when is it going to get easier?