Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Three Bundles of Whoop-Ass

I was gonna write an adorable post this afternoon about how goddamneffing much laundry I have to do every motherfrucking day. You would have just loved it, because of course, Dear Reader, you desire formal knowledge of the ludicrousiousness of the heights to which my laundry pile ascends. This awesome post about laundry! was even going to feature a real Anne Geddes-ass photo of two babies in cloth diapers, cutely akimbo. Perhaps one would gently reach out to the touch the other who would stare back lovingly. It would be softly lit, like when a character goes to movie heaven to talk to God as portrayed by Morgan Freeman. In this, my original vision, the word "ass" would hardly appear in the introductory or subsequent paragraphs at all.

But Baby Number 1 was intent on smacking Baby Number 2 in the face (I wonder how many vaults of negatives Anne Geddes has of babies smacking each other upside the face?) so the Preschooler who wasn't supposed to be in the "Two Babies in Diapers" photo shoot at all insisted that instead of playing quietly off to the side like I suggested, she would better serve as a human shield to protect her baby sister from her baby brother.

"He's way too bonky-bongers," she said. "We don't want him to bonky-bong our baby."


Look at those kids. Don't they look tough-ass? Don't they look like total tough-ass-ass-kickers? They totally are.

People often ask me, Betsy? What's life with three like? Should I have a third child?

To them I say, "Well, if you got another one in ya, then you got another one in ya. Only you really know. So if you want to have another baby, I think you should."

If they still seem more interested in what I have to say than what's on the snack table, or, if they are still within earshot as they turn their back on me the better to sample the artichoke dip, I describe two things that become epic with three: Laundry. OMG. Laundry. And Logistics. OMG. Logistics.
Every outing, every meal, every bed/bath/story/playtime is exactly like solving one of those intense logical questions on an LSAT exam.

You know that old riddle about how you have a fox and a rabbit and a cabbage? And you have to get to the other side of a river in a rowboat but you can only take one thing at a time? The tricky part is that if you leave the fox with the rabbit, the fox will eat the rabbit. And if you leave the rabbit with the cabbage, the cabbage is a goner.

Well Baby Number 1 is like the rabbit. And Baby Number 2 is totally the fox. And the Preschooler is so the rabbit. Or the cabbage. Wait, no, because the Baby Number 1 would never eat the Preschooler -- okay, nevermind who the cabbage is.

The important thing here is who to put in the rowboat. What you have to do is take the fox across first, see? And then you go back for the rabbit. When you get the rabbit to the other side then you take the fox back into the boat across the river again with you. Then you grab the cabbage and take it across. When you get there with the cabbage you leave that there with the rabbit and go get the fox. Wait. No. Cause then the fox would eat the rabbit. I mean the rabbit would eat the cabbage. Okay. Wait. No. How the keericedfreakingfiretruck is that even possible?

And how the crapsnotlickinghell am I supposed to prevent every possible instance of cannibalism? Do you know how much breastfeeding those punks have required? Gawd.

I'magonna go and do some laundry now.

That is all.


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  1. I wasn't sure where that was going at the beginning but I have to admit the ride to the end was pretty funny. The thing about Anne Geddes is that her baby models are so teeny they haven't figured out how to bonk each other yet.

  2. I thought I might have another one in me, and then my laundry-hating self read this post. Although, my ovaries, they don't so much listen to the reason.

  3. The expression on the baby's face sort of says it all. Not that I really know what all is, but whatever it is, that squashy stoical face seems to say it. And sweet christ, logistics are already a problem. I guess maybe we can have another one, but it can't play baseball.

  4. You are too funny. Like Marilyn, I was like, "Where is she going with this?" but it was funny the entire trip. (Your blog post now sounds like some kind of ride at an amusement park...I'm assuming that's what it's like with 3 kiddos.) :o)

  5. oh gosh. you always make me laugh til i get little tears in the corners of my eyes. :)


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