This is 3. Times 2.

We’ve had two 3-year olds for less than 4 months but it feels like an entire lifetime. People always warned me about the terrible-twos and once we survived that pretty much unscathed, I thought that maybe we were in the clear.


Turns out, 4 is even worse but my goal is to survive 3 before I can worry about 4. Don’t get me wrong, most days I laugh until my “abs” hurt or I have tears in my eyes. Now, usually it’s behind their backs so that they can’t see me laughing at whatever naughty thing they just did but nonetheless, I’m laughing. A lot.

As much as the attitudes are progressing along with the food pickiness and I’m having to repeat myself more and more …. and more, I was prepared for that. You know what I wasn’t prepared for? The amount of urine that would be flowing in my house and no, not just in the bathroom. It’s on the bedroom floor when I go to get them up because apparently we’re such good potty trainers that they don’t even want to pee in their overnight pull-ups anymore and the floor feels like the next best option to them? And of course, because there’s two of them, there’s double the pee, double the laughs about that pee and triple the amount of words I shouldn’t be using. One of the boys was blessed with an extremely strong urine stream so it’s also typically on the ceiling, the picture frames and seeping through the clothes drawers. Fun fact, it’s nearly impossible to get the smell of urine out of carpets. If you have something that’s tried and true, please send it to me. I’ve tried to do the parenting thing without bribing and using food as a reward but all of that has gone out of the window at this point. I’ve promised lollipops, donuts and my soul. The bathroom is about 1 million times worse because concentrating and aiming is not in the wheel house of 3-year olds and it’s hilarious when there’s pee everywhere it shouldn’t be, so I’m learning. Every time I give them a pair of pants to wear, because you know, they are tiny men so they don’t put clothes where they SHOULD go, I have to smell them to make sure they aren’t covered in dry urine. Do you know what it’s like to put your nose in to dried pee? It was a new, horrifying sensation that I am sure could be used as a torture tactic if the military is looking for a new approach. It’s been a real blast and I’m enjoying every second of it (she says as she pours herself a bottle of wine).

Now, if the “F” word offends you, just skip this next paragraph because bombs are about to be dropping.

You know what people warned me about but I didn’t listen didn’t warn me about? That 3-year olds not only repeat the really bad words you say, they make songs out of them too. A couple of weeks ago, Carter hit his big-boy weight and we switched him to a forward facing car seat. We brought it in the house to adjust it and I pinched my fingers between one of the thousand metal pieces on those things. I said “oh motherffffff…” but stopped myself. Tiny twin cocked his head, looked me dead in the eye and says “oh, what the fuck?” Brandon and I turned our heads but definitely not fast enough before we were scream-laughing. I hadn’t heard him say that before so we tried not to make a big deal of it (other than the hysterical laughing, oops). A couple of days go by and I’m taking them to school. Carter and I were talking and Luke was back there singing away. He sings ALL OF THE TIME and makes up his own songs. When I took a second to listen a little closer, I hear “ohhh what the fuck, what the fuck, ohhh what the…”. After I took a video of it #momoftheyear, I decided to tell him that it wasn’t a nice word and that we can’t say that.  He said “ok, mommy!” but much to my dismay, it hasn’t stopped. I heard him in the bathroom this morning, “what the fuck? where’s the bandaids?”

Of course, I don’t know where he learned how to use such a word in the correct way, it clearly wasn’t from me. But, I will tell you that I have certainly been making an effort to watch my mouth around his tiny, naughty-word singing behind.

While I’m certainly sick of having to inhale the smell of urine and worrying about when my 3-year old will get suspended from daycare for his mouth,  I already know with certainty that I will miss this stage. It’s hard and when I say exhausting, it’s only because there isn’t another word for what we feel on a daily basis. My GPA has taken a significant hit this summer because of the chaos that is 3 but it feels worth it. There is nothing like watching your (big) baby jump into the pool for the first time without help (I don’t know where they got their fear of the water.. #thanksBrandon) and watching their faces LIGHT up. They asked me to buy them goggles so they could go under water and I thought my cold, dead heart would explode. And yes, they were ordered within 3 minutes. The giggles are more frequent (because they are usually doing something they shouldn’t be doing) and we can actually have conversations now. The holidays this year will be magical as hell and as cliche as it is, they really do bring more joy to our lives than I ever thought possible.

Of course, when I go into their room tomorrow morning to get them out of bed and step in a puddle of pee, I’m sure I’ll feel different..

Until then.. wish me luck



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