I haven't slept trough the night in about 2 months. What happen to that time when all parents say: " "Don't worry, by the time they're a year, they'll be sleeping trough the night?" Bullshit!!! These two can't go one night without letting out a house awakening wail. Even if they don't actually get up, they have to let out a complaint against whatever nightmare or social troubling thoughts are running trough their heads.
The more they learn to talk, the more they talk back. They must know over 100 words by now and understand 100s more. The word "no!" has become more negative instead of informative. They rarely know what they want, but they know what they don't want. They're not even two yet and they're already moving into the terrible part.
At Christmas time we hung out with Grandma's husband's family. The girls now have a step cousin, a little boy around their age. After seeing him in action, rampaging around grandma's antiques and imagining what my life would be like with two boys instead of girls, I have a feeling we're dealing with two little Palestines instead of two Iraq's. To those parents of boys, I salute you.
Life is a series of deaths. When you loose your virginity, when your first child exits the womb and as I experienced recently, you find out that you have an potentially deadly disease which can lead to heart attacks, blindness, amputations and kidney problems.
My years of eating Butterfingers and Mountain Dew for breakfast have finally caught up with me. My deceased Mom and her brother left a nice little genetic gift for me this year. Type 2 Diabetes. This hit me like a death because A) I don't smoke B) I drink moderately C) I'm not over weight in the least and D) I'm not old.
Even the doctor was surprised that my glucose came up in the diabetes range. "It can't be!" I said scarfing a cinnamon pecan roll. Apparently it's not as much the sugar thing as it was the stress. Gee? What can I be stressed about. Could it be the fact that I'm trying to balance 6 highly demanding relationships (job, partner, twin a, twin b, twin a and b together, twin a, b and partner together) and make everyone happy?.
Being a masochist, after dealing with that devastating news, I decided to go to the dentist to find out if that filling I made out of gum and tin foil was good enough for the hole in my gum. After she slapped me several times, she said I needed the works: Root canal #4, 1 filling, 1 crown and a partridge in a pear treeeee. I go back for the filling and right in the middle of shots in the roof of the mouth, teeth scraping and digging a hook realllly close to my nerves, she says: "It's too much to clean away, You need a root canal!" She sticks a temporary filling on me and throws me out the window onto the streets, still numb on drugs. What the fuck? I say. I climb back in through the window and demand she send me to an expert, right now! Okay that part didn't happen but I was pretty adamant about not leaving until she set me up with a person who could do what she cant do, ASAP. Few days later I see Dr. Fancy. He uses über drugs on me, had a 2 sided list of movies to watch while they yank out your fangs and it went a lot smoother than getting my teeth cleaned. Here's an idea: CAN WE PLEASE HAVE THE HARDER DRUGS, AND VIDEO PLAYER, DR. FANCY USED DURING THE OTHER STUFF???
There's still more work to do and will extend until next year because the fuck'n insurance won't cover all of it in one year.
Both experiences make me really mad at my parents, Yes, even my deceased mother (oh, oh. Freudian alert) I'm basically mad that my parents never told me, as I'm going to tell my kids. #1 if you take care of your teeth, you could save enough money to go on a kick ass drug ladened trip to Ibiza, twice and still have enough for an computer and a hand job in a seedy strip club. Okay maybe I'll leave out the computer part. And also in our family, there is a ticking time bomb of yummy diseases coming your way from both sides so If you smoke I will kick you in the ass so hard, you'll taste shit for a week, exercise is not a hobby, and party your ass off with Willy Wonka but when you approach 40, drop-kick his ass into that chocolate fountain and lay off the sweets. I mean seriously my parent's never talked to me about health, AND MY DAD"S A GODDAMN DOCTOR!!!!!!
So now I'm on old-man drugs. My doctor says even tough it's not the type 3 diabetes (insulin shots etc..) I have to start on them, now. Three pills per day. Aspirin, a cholesterol drug and my personal favorite, one that lowers your blood pressure. I love that one, it's like drinking a glass of wine in the morning. I feel like Dean Martin.
Why didn't my parents just tell me the truth? I already plan to tell my kids:
One day you will fall in love, and they will break your heart and it will hurt but unfortunately this will only be puppy love. Later on, the real thing will hit and they will break your heart and you'll want to die and kill at the same time.
One day, you will have really bad sex and it will probably involve alcohol.
One day, the police will be involved in your life somehow.
One day you will vote for 5 presidential candidates and they'll all loose.
One day, you'll have a kid and you'll wonder what the fuck your parent's were complaining about because you won't have twins.
My point is. You need to share with your kids all the horrible shit that needs to be red flagged otherwise what are you protecting them from?
That's it!
EM
