Saturday, December 22, 2012

Why My Girls are Kind of Like Criminals

I probably should have mentioned in the very first post that a common occurence on this blog will be lists. I.LOVE.LISTS. In fact, I have a list of lists I would like to write about.

So how did I come to the conclusion that my daughters are kind of like criminals? Well, I've been reading other lists and articles, one of which was about the similarities of toddlers to drunkards. And it just dawned on me. My girls, and really all babies/toddlers in general, are similiar to criminals. I did some brief research to strengthen my reasoning and came accross a test  to determine if someone is a psychpath. The hubs and I went through it and the girls scored 14 out of 20. Now, I'm not saying my 13 month old angel pies are psychos. I'll wait until the teen years to make that determination.

1) They'll steal your heart: Ok, I'll get the mushy one out of the way right away. But they are pretty sweet and will steal your heart. They'll probably also steal your soul, because they are gingers.

2) They steal in general: Especially from each other. Every toy. Every day, all day. I've been roommates in college with girls who have stolen everything from virginities to road signs and they've got NOTHING on these two. Teagan (the oldest by a minute) frequently goes from one side of the room, crawling and stepping over people, just to go over and push Caroline (the younger one) out of the way for oyster crackers. At least hold out for some Goldfish, child!

3)Blatant disregard for authority: That authority being myself...and their dad. They usually listen to their Papa (my father), but Caroline used to babble very angrily at him because he wouldn't let her pluck all his beard hair out by hand. And you know you're in trouble when you tell one of them for the 50th time to stop smacking the nativity set Virgin Mary around. And she stops, looks at you, smiles and then swats it across the table. Followed by speaking in tongues.

4) Enjoying other peoples' pain: I swear, if we had been followed around by a camera these past 13 months, we would have enough footage for 2 Firky Follies specials. I've stepped, kicked, stubbed and fallen on so many different items from food to toys it's rediculous. Don't even get me started on those damn child gates. They are for keeping babies and short parents out of areas. I feel like I have to be a freaking Olympic hurdler to clear those monsters. And the girls love every painful second of it. Not to mention they like to inflict pain of their own. Teagan once managed to lunge herself at me and break her fall by twisting my nipple. Through a bra and sweashirt! And she laughed at me like I was a clown. A crying, (now) 1 nippled clown.

5) Unreliable: It's like clock work. The only reliable thing about them is that they are unreliable. A routine is established, things are hunky dory. Until I rely on that 2 hour nap in the morning to get all of my housework done. (Forget it, who am I kidding? By housework I mean checking to see if my bed is still Downy fresh by sleeping in it.) Anyway, that 2 hour nap turns into who can turn their crib music up the loudest and throw their nuk the furthest and who can drive mom to drink unrecommended amounts of booze.

6) Unemployed: Right after the girls were born and we got our first hospital bill, it came billed to Teagan, because OBVIOUSLY a newly birthed child would be the breadwinner. Well, after we fixed that, she became complacent. Demanding. Whiney. Now before you say "Tara, how can you expect your wee ones to be employed?! They are just children!", remember, the Olsen twins had a tv show in syndication by this age.

7)Confinement: Most of the time, it's in their cribs. We no longer use a "baby jail" aka a Pack and Play because of lack of space. And I'm fairly certain the girls started to like it just to stick it to the man. They also have to be confined to their highchairs, car seats and strollers. Our house is also like a minimum security prison. Our windows have plastic on them, our doors are blocked, there are baby gates all over. But there was once an almost prison break. Teagan figured out how to place her plastic motorcycle right up to the baby gate, stand up on it and attempted to swing her leg over the gate. Brad and I were sitting close, so we botched that plan.


And finally

8)Cockblocks: This has absolutely nothing to do with my kids in comparison to criminals. But I just wanted to put it out there, because it's true and you all know this. (Plus I can use the word "cock" without sounding like a perv.)  Every time I think "I can't be a frigid bitch forever" and let my guard down, one or both of them start hollering and reminding me how we got in this situation in the first place. In stereo.

So there you have it. If any criminals have read this and are offended, I am truly not sorry.

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