Having a sense of humor can save your sanity... maybe

When the twins were just three months old, my parents - the last of my immediate family members that lived in state - moved away. It was sad and painful and lonely. Not only that, but I really missed having my Mom so close when something crazy happened or I didn't know what to do. I was, after all, a new mother to two little babies who were trusting me completely to not screw them up.

After a couple of months, I started emailing my Mom every couple of days with updates on the boys because apparently, she was having a hard time adjusting to the separation too. These emails came to be known to us as The Twin Times, or TTT.

I was cleaning out my email account the other day and came across several of these TTT reports. Yes, I know, they would have to be about two years old and no - I hadn't cleaned them out of my email account yet. I started reading through all of these treasured memories, laughing and crying (because I am still a hormonal pregnant lady) and being amazed at my naivete when I came across this little gem:

5/27/2008 (twins age - about 8 months)

Yesterday, Tommy had a blowout diaper. As I was changing him, and before I could stop him, he reached down with both hands and grabbed a hold of his "junk" (this is also a new habit for both of them anytime their diapers are off). To keep him from inserting his now poo covered hands into his mouth, I grabbed them. Tommy continued to squirm and twist and fight his hands being confined until he had poo all over his legs, feet, and tummy in addition to his hands. While I was occupied with the struggle, Michael had rolled stealth-like towards us and grabbed the poopy diaper in both of his hands.

As things stand now, Tommy is completely covered in poo, I have poo all over my hands, under my fingernails, on my shirt, and Michael now has it all over his hands. How do I get out of this predicament you ask? After panicking for just a second, I paused to realize the insanity of the situation and start to giggle. Then the boys started to giggle - all three of us were covered in poo and giggling like crazy! Then I took charge. I planted my left leg firmly on top of Michael to pin his arms down and hold him in place. Then I cleaned off Tommy's hands and using my left arm held them place, pinned down to his side while I finished cleaning off his bum. Once Tommy had a fresh diaper, I turned my attention to Michael and got him all squeaky clean. Then I ran to the bathroom and scrubbed myself raw on all exposed skin surfaces, used the fingernail brush, and finally changed my shirt. So, 25 minutes later - all was well again

As I read this, I couldn't help but smile and think back on that day and how a sense of humor has saved me more than once in the past couple of years. And then I had to immediately question my sanity for wanting to go through it all over again with another new baby. Eh, what can you do?