Monday, October 22, 2012

Zone Defense: Babysitting Two Kids By Myself

First off, I know what you're thinking. "It's not babysitting if it's your own kids, Joe!" Well, they're babies and I'm sitting with them. Please feel free to send along any suggestions for how better to describe this activity. Anyway, my wife and in-laws were out of town for a couple of days for a funeral, which left only me to watch after our two children. This frightened me for several reasons. And I had some questions/concerns. Such as...

* Will this be the moment my kids realize I'm clueless?

* When will I pee?

* Good lord, I'll have to bathe, feed AND put them to sleep together!

* I'll have to DVR the Jets game. No way I'll catch even one snap.

* Oh, who cares? The Jets are terrible.

* I mean, really. Stevie Wonder could find better running room than Shonn Greene.

* The good thing is I won't be eating much so dropping a deuce shouldn't be an issue.

* Should I opt for whiskey or vodka once they're finally asleep?

False perception of two kids

Truth about two kids

It didn't take very long for me to lose my patience. I was at the breakfast table with both boys 15 minutes after they woke up and I walked to the toaster to take out the waffles. As I turned around, I noticed Antonio rushing his arm to his side, muffling laughter. As I approached the table, I noticed Nate's bowl of pureed fruit looked a little lighter than it had a moment earlier. Then I noticed the empty measuring cup next to it. Antonio had poured Nate's reflux medicine into his breakfast bowl. I shouted in Antonio's face, "Are you serious?! You know better than that!" I tend to tell him he knows better whenever he does something appalling, but truthfully he really doesn't. He's three for God's sake.

So I tried to kill two birds with one stone by spooning some fruit and medicine into Nate's mouth, but two scoops in and he realized it tasted like fruit mixed with medicine. At least I tried.

About an hour later, I had them dressed and in the car, on our way to a pumpkin patch (which I'd forgotten was 45 minutes away). No sooner did I reach the highway when I peered in the rear-view mirror and noticed Nate leaning forward in his car seat. Well, that's odd, I thought. Then I realized I never strapped him into the damn thing! I pulled into the next parking lot and jumped out of the car, making the adjustment. "Please don't tell mommy," I frantically pleaded with Antonio.

"I'm going to tell her," he quipped with a menacing grin. What a jerk. Bros before hoes, pal. Fortunately, he's three and totally forgot by the time Sonia returned.

Going to this pumpkin patch/apple orchard/whatever the fuck seemed like a decent idea going into it. "My cousins will be there, so you'll have some help with the kids. If you stay home, you're on your own," Sonia suggested. It was hard to argue with any logic that might allow me the luxury of urinating in solitude. So, I went for it.

I was told we'd been meeting them at 10:30 AM, so naturally Nate shit as I was opening the door to leave, setting us back a bit. I got there 11:00, thinking I was 30 minutes late. Then I remembered I'd married into a South American family. Thirty minutes late actually meant 90 minutes early.

I waited for them to arrive, intermittently snapping awkward pictures of one of my sons while holding the other son, a diaper bag, the camera bag and pushing a double stroller down a rocky hill. I was walking birth control at that point. No sooner did they arrive when I kissed most of them goodbye to take the tractor ride to get a pumpkin- aka, the only reason Antonio wanted to come and the thing he'd complain about for three hours if I didn't take him. We weren't even on the tractor yet and Nate was starting to voraciously head butt me (that means he's tired). And it's a good thing cousin Nathalie and Fernando came along. Otherwise, I'd have no way of carrying the pumpkin back other than counting on a three-year-old I can't even count on to hold an empty container of yogurt for more than 30 seconds.

I got them both back in the car by 2:00 PM, a full two hours beyond the start of Nate's normal nap time. Both of them passed out before I reached the highway. I exhaled slowly, truly enjoying the moment of serenity I was now sharing with nothing but myself and the open road ahead. I felt empowered, with a new sense of belief in my abilities to entertain, clothe and generally maintain two young children full-time. Twenty five minutes later, as I neared the entrance to our driveway, I looked back expecting to see two dozing toddlers. Instead they were wide awake! Desperately, I drove past our house and around the neighborhood, hoping they'd fall back asleep. But it was all for nil. They were my kids, and by God they weren't sleeping another wink.

No sooner were we inside when Antonio tried dragging his dirty pumpkin into the (at that point) clean kitchen. I lost it and screamed at him, which prompted him to grab a picture of Sonia and sob while shouting, "I want mommy!" and gazing at the photo longingly. Oh, I wanted her too.

After the tantrum subsided, I allowed them to wreak havoc on the basement. It was my only real shot at sanity. While they entertained themselves by taking every conceivable object and hurling it carelessly on the tile floor/sucking on it, I texted Sonia making sure she was coming back eventually. "My Aunt said she'd come by to help. Give her a call. She won't mind." Sure, she won't mind. But how embarrassing is that? "Yeah, hey, it's Joe. I'm here with my own children and I'm not capable enough to keep them and myself alive for 48 hours." So, instead, I called my best friend Andrew. He already knows my shortcomings. But he claimed to be sick. Very curiously, he was over this sickness the very next day. I might also mention that he enjoys seeing me suffer.

After I shoveled as much food into them as I could to ensure I wouldn't starve them, I gavee both baths at the same time, which was particularly stressful since I had to put Nate's special earplugs in, and then a headband over the earplugs, then wash his hair while ensuring he doesn't rip any of this off while Antonio shoots me in the eyes with a water gun. So, after this was over, I began the monumental task of putting them to sleep at the same time. And if you've never tried putting two small children to sleep together, the skill involved is worthy of an Olympic event. I placed Nate in his crib while holding Antonio on my lap, intermittently begging him with a harsh whisper, "Pretend you're not here." Naturally, Antonio takes that as his cue to relentlessly sing Puff the F'ing Magic Dragon to Nate like he was hired to do just that. This only extended the night.

After about 20 minutes of this excruciating sing-a-long, I got a text from Sonia, asking me to DVR one of her shows. Since neither kid was sleeping, I turned on the lights and headed downstairs to do the deed. Both kids giggle as if being released from some kind of purgatory. This glee would be extinguished, though, when I return to the dark five minutes later. You'd have thought I was lowering them into an erupting volcano. My only option at that point was to wait until they were both tired of whining/singing/crying/poking me in the face and to mercifully resign to the living room for a stiff Jack Daniels and Coke. I sat on the couch sipping my drink with unmatched satisfaction, feeling a sense of great accomplishment as a parent and pride as a responsible human being. Until I saw the massive pile of dirty dishes that were mockingly waiting for me on the kitchen counter. And then I cried a little.

This one was for all you parents of one thinking about being parents of two! Proceed with caution and bang responsibly.

I've already gotten some fantastic blurbs from some readers for my upcoming parenting book. Still looking for more! If you have a unique perspective on parenting, send it my way to the email listed below and you may be a contributing writer on my next book!

P.S. The Jets actually won that game vs. The Colts!

Thanks,
Joe DeProspero
jdeprospero@gmail.com
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