Bad Ass Moms, page 12
“Internet,” he corrected her.
“Right, that thing. Before then, people could have privacy. But that’s not the world we live in anymore.”
“And what the hell would you know about the world we live in, Mom?” he demanded. “At least I’ve been in it my whole life. You’re still in the learning curve.”
To his surprise, she actually smiled at that. “That much is true,” she said. “I’m always learning. I’ve lost count of the days I’ve wished that I knew everything. But one does what one can.”
“So you’re saying Dany can’t come over.”
She paused, and it seemed to Stonn that she was about to turn his request down flat. But then slowly she shook her head. “No. No, of course I’m not saying that. You live here, Stonn. This is your home. If you want to have guests, you’re certainly welcome to do so. But this Friday, you said?” He nodded. “I have dinner at the British embassy with the ambassador. So I won’t even be here. Sorry.”
He was about to ask if there was any way that she could postpone it, but immediately thought better of it. Perhaps it would indeed be best if Dany didn’t meet his mother immediately. Let her get accustomed to the environment, and to him, before he introduced such a strong individual as his mother, the President.
“No, it’s okay,” he said. “That’ll be fine.”
“Maybe better. She can get used to the place before having to deal with me.”
“I wasn’t thinking that at all.”
She smiled slightly at that. “Don’t lie to me, Stonn. You’re bad at it in general, and you’re absolutely terrible at it with me. You think I don’t understand? You think I don’t know what you’re going through?”
“I know you know, Mom.”
“Good.” She ruffled his hair. “I understand we’re having shrimp scampi tonight.”
He smiled broadly at that. “I love shrimp scampi.”
“You’re lucky that you have such a variety of foods to choose from. When I was your age…”
“You were never my age,” he said, which was what he customarily said whenever Krysta would begin to reminisce about her youth.
She nodded. “I always forget.”
DID THEY DO THAT?
by DENISE SUTTON
Nora was tired. Tired all the time. But she pushed herself to give 110 percent for her boys. She loved them from the second she laid eyes on them.
When her doctor had first told her she could not get pregnant, Nora was devastated. But once he’d recommended adoption and praised its virtues, she realized that her hopes of becoming a mom were not completely crushed after all, that somewhere out there was a child that needed her—needed their own savior—and she couldn’t just sit there feeling sorry for herself. Life gave her one doozy of a lemon. Big deal. She would just have to make lemonade. Nora persuaded her husband, Liam, and they’d gone to the adoption agency willing to go through anything that would grant them a child. To her surprise—and Liam’s bulging eyes—the agent had immediately placed twin 16-month-old boys in their care. That part was easy. What followed was a great challenge, to say the least—one bigger than she had ever anticipated.
As hard as it was, they were her sons, and she was determined to give them everything and anything they wanted or needed no matter what it cost her. Sleep was the first thing to go; that was expected. Her personal hygiene quickly followed. Nora often forgot to brush her teeth, not to mention she showered once, maybe twice a week if she was lucky. Deodorant became her lifesaver… if she remembered to apply it. Her curly hair rarely got a proper brushing. To save time, Nora simply put it up in a bun and called it a day. It was also the go-to style for moms with young children… it had the least amount of accessible hair that they could pull out. That lesson was learned the hard way, on Day Two of bringing the twins home. Those four hands would grab onto anything; the hard part was getting them to let go. It was like they had superglue spread over their palms. Why were they always so darn sticky? She’d lost more than a few strands of hair that day. She’d vowed not to make that mistake again. Nora refused to go wig shopping before the age of 40.
Nora’s classy wardrobe was replaced by the “mom uniform,” which consisted of a stained plain white Hanes t-shirt and baggy sweatpants. Leggings on special occasions, though she usually had holes in the knee and crotch areas and hoped no one would notice. Everyone always did, and she knew it. They just stared and walked away, probably wondering how many moths she had hidden in her closet. Nora even wore the same outfit down to her underwear and socks for four days straight. It wasn’t entirely intentional, but looking like a homeless hot mess was a side effect of raising young kids. Most days, she was too tired to tend to herself; she would just smell parts of her body and say that her stench hadn’t gotten so bad as to warrant a shower. A quick rinse under the bathroom sink usually sufficed. Nora had become nose-blind for sure. Liam was just too polite to risk offending her. Besides, in a way, the food-stains-and-rotten-milk smell became a badge of honor. Liam wanted Nora to wear it proudly. And boy did she, whether in private or in public.
Since adopting the twins, her life had gone from zero to 60, and those one-year-olds were at the wheel. Nora would have enjoyed the ride more if she wasn’t so darn exhausted. She was so busy tending to their every need that she couldn’t really take the time to live in the moment and enjoy them.
“I feel like a robot sometimes, you know,” she told Liam one night before bed. “It’s like I finish one chore and three more pop up, and all are equally important so I can’t just not do them. It’s for our kids. It’s all about our kids. But I’m new to all of this, and I want to make sure I’m doing it right. Or maybe there is a trick to it or something.”
Liam just shrugged his shoulders.
“I mean, how are there moms out there that look like they just walked off the runway while I look like I’ve been shacking up with Oscar the Grouch?”
Liam gave her a funny look.
“Oh yeah, sorry honey, all I watch are kids shows these days, and the boys are really into Sesame Street. It’s a great show, very cute. I’m also learning a lot. The only downside is that I can’t get the darn theme song out of my head. It’s so catchy.”
“Maybe if you try connecting with other moms on the internet, they could help you sort this all out. If nothing else, it’s an additional outlet of support and advice that might really make a difference for you… help you with the questions that I can’t. God knows I’m no help with this.”
Nora considered his advice.
Liam tried to seal the deal. “Maybe if you share your experiences, you’ll realize you’re not the only one feeling this way… that it’s just normal mom worries.”
“You know, that’s a great idea. I’ll see if I can find a mom chat or something. I definitely don’t have the time these days to do the old-fashioned face-to-face, like a quick lunch date. I for sure don’t look presentable enough to even be allowed in a restaurant or cafe.”
Liam couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Honey, please,” he said. “You always look beautiful to me.”
“Thank you, sweetie, but we both know you are trying to make me feel better when I clearly repulse people and pets. The other day, a dog just stared at me like he didn’t know what to do… run away or sit and marvel at the creature before him. I guess it’s time for a wax, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet. Maybe I’ll just buy one of those at-home waxing kits and do it myself when the boys are asleep. Yeah, that could work. Two eyebrows are better than one, and one mustache is one too many.”
Liam tried so hard not to burst out laughing. He kept pinching himself so his pain would replace his giggles. “Whatever you need to do Nora, I support you 100 percent. You know that.”
“Yes, I know, Liam, thank you. And thank you for the tip about the mom chat thing. I’ll look into it first thing in the morning. Goodnight. I love you, sweet dreams.”
“Goodnight, honey. Love you too.”
Nora picked up her cell phone and began searching for an online group chat that would help her navigate the perilous waters of parenting. It took a few minutes, but she found the perfect one: “Coping with Kid Chaos.” Nora joined, eager to get any tips she could and immediately posted a few questions. The responses were many, but none were more insightful than those of Jack Mizrahi—a happily married dad of three kids under the age of six. She chatted with him for a while before exhaustion prevailed and sleep finally took over.
Five AM the following morning. The twins were up for the day as usual. Those two took forever to fall asleep and never stayed asleep for long. It was like their minds didn’t want to shut down—like they absorbed every ounce of energy from their surroundings to power themselves a bit longer. They just didn’t want to miss a minute of the day—or night. But that was them, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after five hours of sleep, on a good night.
Nora got up and made her way to the boys’ room across the hall. She opened the door to greet them and found both boys in the same crib, playing together as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
“Am I sleep-walking or just so exhausted?” Nora leaned in to get a better look. “How in the world did you end up in your brother’s crib?” The cribs were parallel to each other but separated by about five feet. The mattresses had been recently lowered to the floor to prevent the boys from climbing out, buying Nora and Liam some time before toddler beds became an absolute necessity. “I don’t understand. Did I put you guys in the same crib last night? Possible. Everything looks the same after a while… especially you guys.” She looked at her sons, so confused. “Did you fly into your brother’s crib?” she asked jokingly.
Nora’s worry turned into a smile of relief since no one had gotten hurt. She took comfort in the fact that there must have been a valid explanation for this; she was just too darn tired to see it.
“Okay, my little men,” Nora said. “It’s time to start another day.” She always talked to her twins like adults, none of that goo-goo gaa-gaa babble baloney. Nora felt that using language properly from the start would advance and strengthen their speaking skills. Her admirable efforts aside, she still felt as if the boys had a language of their own—one that no human could understand… and definitely not the bud of the English language. Though the sounds they made were foreign to her, she did read once about twins having their own way of communicating with each other. She just didn’t know why it reminded her of how droids or Ewoks communicated in those Star Wars films she loved so much. So again, Nora brushed that off.
“I’m going to get you both cleaned up, then we can all head downstairs together for a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. If you guys behave yourselves, maybe I will sweeten the offer with some pancakes.” Nora looked at the boys and smiled. “Syrup is a given. Don’t worry, I know what’s good.” Both boys grinned at her then looked at each other. Hatching a plan? God, she hoped not. Was that even possible? Nora ignored her outrageous concerns and focused on how much she adored how her boys seemed to know what each other was thinking. That twin-bond thing bordered on telepathic tendencies, but no matter. For now, it appeared they were agreeing to cooperate for the time being. She just hoped that they would keep to it.
They didn’t. Like all of the days before, they drove Nora crazy. With all the screaming, mostly hers, she was surprised that her neighbors hadn’t called Child Services yet. Grateful, of course, but surprised. Their screams seemed almost supersonic. There were times she could have sworn the room itself vibrated when they cried, and earthquakes were extremely rare in Brooklyn. Nora dismissed it as another side effect of her new-mom insomnia.
“Boys, stop that! You do not throw your food at each other or on the floor. If you don’t want it, don’t eat it. Just please don’t waste food, okay?” One of the twins threw some scrambled eggs in Nora’s direction, and it managed to hit her right between her eyes.
“Aahhhh, stop that!” If Nora weren’t so frustrated, she would have been extremely impressed. She had some real Robin Hoods here. This wasn’t the first time the kids had thrown something with such incredible accuracy. Intentional? Naah, she thought. No way. Though, some of the things they hit—the throws they made—there was no way an adult trying to do what they did could have succeeded.
“NO, what are you doing now? Stop fighting with him. If you guys keep running around like this, someone is going to get hurt—and it’s probably going to be me.”
Truth was, Nora thought to herself, it always was her that got injured. Scratch that, Liam often got hurt whenever he was around the boys, all harmless stuff. Like the time one of them dropped a rather large book on his toe. How in the world did he even lift that encyclopedia? Eh, maybe her son had just nudged it a bit, and it fell off the shelf. Yeah, that made more sense. Liam always did tend to exaggerate things. But he still got hurt badly—and often—poor guy. Like when they accidentally tripped him and he banged his right knee on the corner of the coffee table. Innocent mishap for sure. He, like Nora, always got hit in just the right spot that even a little bit of force would cause severe pain. Those kids had such a knack for that—like a secret talent for inflicting those “ouchies.” All Nora could think of was how lucky she was that it was just the two of them that got hurt.
Come to think of it, she couldn’t recall a single time since she’d brought the boys home that they got hurt, or even sick. Weird. But Nora took apparent nigh-invulnerability as a good trait for them to have. Besides, she often joked about how children were made durable—built to last into adulthood. If they weren’t, the human race would have been extinct by now. She smiled a bit as her boys continued acting like little tornados swirling around the house. Nora recalled the night before how Jack, her parenting guru, joked how his kids always had so much energy while he and his wife, Shella, couldn’t walk a straight line. Nora took comfort in knowing she wasn’t alone. Yup, little tornados…totally normal.
After a bit, the twins slowed down. Liam took the opportunity to give all three of them a big kiss, snapping Nora out of her trance, and then headed over to the kitchen to make himself something to eat.
“Honey, I can’t find my phone,” she said. “Can you call it for me, please?”
“You lost it again? Okay, no problem. I will. I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.”
“I didn’t lose it Liam,” Nora barked. “It’s somewhere in the house. I just misplaced it.”
“Okay, okay, sorry. I know you are very busy with the boys. It’s only normal that things fall through the cracks sometimes.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. Nora blushed. She knew deep down that he always meant well. Sometimes, his words just didn’t come out right.
“Oh, that reminds me, speaking of cracks, the boys pulled down the baby gate last night.”
“Again? But we drilled that one into the wall. I drilled it so well. I used so many screws, more than was called for by the installation instructions in the manual. I thought there was no way it would come off.” Liam stood there in awe. Maybe he didn’t do such a great job as he thought he did. Kids always made you question, well… everything. Especially those two.
“I’m not sure how they did it, I didn’t see,” Nora started. “I turned around for a split second and then I heard a loud SNAP. I was just thankful that they didn’t get hurt.”
“Wow,” Liam said, “our kids are freakishly strong, and sneaky too. Okay, I will try and fix it once I get home from work.”
“Thanks. And please don’t forget to call my phone. I can’t find it anywhere.” He immediately dialed her number. Liam was right, she did lose her phone a lot. It began to ring. Come to think of it, many of the electronic devices they kept around the house seemed to go missing then reappear a few hours—sometimes even a few days—later. Could it be the twins? Nora thought.
Ring…Ring…Ring.
They did like to play with whatever they got their hands on—except for the expensive new toys that Liam and Nora would give them from time to time.
“Where is that phone? It must be hiding under something,” Nora whispered to herself. The boys never showed any interest in age-appropriate things. They were certainly the most curious pair of one-year-olds who, Nora found, happened to take a liking to anything electronic. Little techies. Maybe it WAS them after all.
“Hey, honey, I found it,” Liam said. “It was between the couch cushions.”
“Awesome, thank you, sweetie.” Odd, she didn’t remember going near the couch that morning. Then again, maybe she did go and she just forgot. Nora was clearly desperate for a good night’s sleep. “Oh, Liam, before you go, I just remembered that we need to reset the TV again. The kids pressed a button on the remote, and I have no idea what they did or how to fix it.” Again, impressive but super annoying, Nora thought.
“Sure, I will take a look at it tonight. I think I have the TV manual saved somewhere. That should help if turning it off then turning it on again doesn’t work. It’s simple but effective… the oldest trick in the book when it comes to fixing anything electronic.”
“Whatever you say, babe. I’ll leave that to you,” Nora said.
The boys continued their perfect storm around the house. Watching them made her think of the never-ending pink Energizer bunny playing that giant drum. They just kept going and going and going and going. She glanced out her living room window to see an unfamiliar gentleman in a three-piece suit just staring into the house from across the street. When they made eye contact, he nonchalantly started walking down the block. Eh, her mistake. She’d left the shades open. It was only normal someone might take a quick look inside.
