I recently met a woman whose daughter will turn two in July.

And she’s pregnant.

With twins.

They’re coming in May.

And I had to cover my mouth with imaginary duct tape to prevent myself from belting out, “You’ll have your hands full!”

She had a few questions for me like…

“I’ve been reading some books about multiples and they all insist I can easily nurse the twins in public! Is that true?”

“Hell to the no girlfriend. Maybe in the car. With a giant size nursing pillow. But do not attempt to sit your postpardum self on a park bench and nurse those twins simultaneously. Because you will either drop one or create a crowd of onlookers that would make Lady Ga Ga jealous.”

And then she asked…

“What kind of car do we need?”

“A mini cooper. Definitely the best option! Wait, did I say Mini Cooper? I meant minivan.”

“Everyone tells me it’s going to be horrible having newborn twins and a young toddler. Is it really that bad?”

In my head: “Oh yes, the first year is going to be rough. REALLY rough. The summer after my twins were born, I was so tired, I inadvertently locked my husband in the basement and he was so tired, he was introducing our son as Chad. I would have corrected him but who had the energy?

And I’m pretty sure my older girls were raising themselves. Which would explain the day they almost burned down the kitchen. But now my twins are 20 months-old and except for a little incident today where Chase unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper, sprinkled a bag of grapes throughout the house like confetti and then broke a glass snow globe in the bathtub, it’s smooth sailing!

Outloud: “It’s not bad at all! Sure, there will be a smidgeon of fatigue. And just a hair of guilt. And maybe just a bit of chaos. But no worries! Children are a wonderful blessing. Having one is just like three. You’ll be fabulous! Best of luck to you!!”

Sometimes it’s just better not to know what’s coming.

I’m back.

Ugh.

And I just want you to know that I wasn’t simply vacationing down in Florida, I was enacting real change down there. Remember when I posted this pool sign…

Well, a mere two days later, it was REMOVED. Yes, gone. Replaced with a sign that made no mention of diarrhea. Which either means the pool board of directors decided it’s totally cool to swim with diarrhea or they realized they were seriously nauseating everyone.

Now I have no proof that my post had anything to do with the immediate sign removal but they don’t call me the Norma Rae of Boca for nothing.

(Side note: They may not actually call me Norma Rae of anything.)

Meanwhile, Rick and I spent our last night of vacation with his cousin Wendi and her husband. We went to Johnnie Brown’s in Delray where we danced, watched some fierce senior PDA (which should not be confused with the senior PGA – totally different sport) and took awesome pictures which you will never see.

Unless you hunt down whoever owns my camera now.  I had it in my back pocket but it must have slipped out when we stood up to leave. I returned about 7 minutes later and did a mad, desperate search but it was gone.

Which means someone now has possession of my Cannon digital camera and all those gorgeous, artistic shots I took of that diarrhea pool sign.  What a windfall for them!

(Wendi was obviously very troubled by my missing camera because as I combed Atlantic Ave, she was chatting it up with this guy below who apparently is straight and sells shots at a gay karaoke bar. Yeah, I’ll let you absorb that for a moment.)

Courtesy of Wendi’s iPhone

And yes, I have photos of this guy from the front too but I’m trying to walk that fine line between humor blog and porn site. And I thought photos of his enhanced package went a bit too far.

Anyway, I’m still hoping some kind of magical karma will bring the camera back to me. There have already been some positive signs form the universe.

1. We broke our Sit and Stroll at security on the way home which now solves our Sit and Stroll oversupply issue (Note: Don’t attempt to push your 7-year-old and 5-year-old in one Sit and Stroll since this in all likelihood will break the wheels.)

2. We saw Jermaine Jackson at JFK airport! Obviously, this kind of brush with a mega celebrity is proof that something very good is coming my way.

I’ll keep you posted on Jermaine’s travel schedule.

So how is your vacation going you all?

Oh wait, I forgot you’re not on vacation. So let’s talk about mine!  We went to this adorable strawberry farm and there was this whole group of new moms there. They were so cute, each with their one little baby and obsessively talking about when to take away the pacifier.

I told them as long as they do it by junior high – they are totally fine.

I really can remember being that girl.

And then, at one point, I overheard the following snippet of conversation…

New mom #1 “So how big is a bridge table?”

New mom #2 “You know, the same size as a mahjong table.”

Now, I don’t remember saying that when I was a new parent. Or ever really. Might be a Florida thing.

Anyway, do you watch Parenthood? Every week, I sob through that show because I dread the day my kids start being total jerks to me and then abandon me for college. So I just want to personally thank NBC for making me stress about this years in advance.

Okay, I’d like to show you one of my favorite pics from the week.

It’s a sign from the pool at Rick’s parent’s gated community.

I don’t know about you but when I’m suffering from mad diarrhea, the last thing I think is, “Hey, I can hardly leave the bathroom. But let me try to get my suit on and hit the pool! Marco! Polo!”

And seriously, who would swallow the water after reading the diarrhea rule?!

Because it’s positively cruel to leave you with thoughts of diarrhea, let me post a few snapshots of my sweet children. (You know, the ones who will someday treat me like crap and then abandon me for college.)

mama bird notes:

A friend asked me to post this… Are you a cancer patient or survivor? Or a cancer patient’s loved one? The Cancer Poetry Project: Poems by Cancer Patients and Those Who Love Them is a wonderful book to give when someone has been diagnosed with cancer.

The second volume is now underway and they are looking for submissions. Please send in your own cancer-related poem for consideration. The deadline is April 30th. Just visit cancerpoetryproject.com for more information.

1. Plethora of tattoo parlors:

Me: “I would totally get a tattoo. Mostly because I think it will make me look more like Angelina Jolie. You?”

Rick: “I’m not sure I would.”

Me: “Because you’re Jewish?”

Rick: “No.”

Me: “Because you’re a pu$$y?”

Rick: “No.”

Me: “Then why not?”

Rick: “Not sure I could come up with something significant enough.”

Me: “As if, ‘My Wife Hearts Justin Bieber’ isn’t significant enough.

2. Opportunities to brush up on your pole dancing:

3. Hotel bars with beds and pools:

(Lice, bed bugs and a cocktail!)

4. Most popular breakfast menu item is “Chicken & Waffles.”

As described on the menu… “Buttermilk marinated fried chicken over a fresh cooked waffle, served with whipped butter and maple syrup.”

5. This is what people drink at 10 am:

Yes, those are two Coronas. In his fishbowl size drink.

Rick and I want to go to Florida.

But every time, we try to buy tickets, we freeze. The same question lingers. How many seats? Wendi brought this family to my attention. They bought three seats for a family of six (including a 3 year-old, 20-month-old twins and an 8 month-old). What a bargain! Except they got kicked off. Which tends to lengthen a trip.

Technically, we still don’t have to buy seats for the twins.

But I can not imagine 19-month-old Chase staying in my lap for 2 minutes. Never mind two and a half hours. I need straps for him. Tight straps.

We finally decide to buy Chase a seat and have his twin Harlowe sit sweetly in one of our laps.  That means we need a Sit and Stroll for Chase. I love these things! They are a car seat that turns into a stroller that turns back into a car seat for the flight. Clever, non-fatigued people must have come up with that.

But our two Sit and Strolls were washed away with Hurricane Irene. I am about to buy one and then instead, I send out a quick email to my list of local moms.

And within a few hours, I have three Sit and Strolls I can borrow and two more that I can have for keeps. I pick up the two that are mine forever and give myself big props for not spending money and helping to clean out someone else’s garage.

Then I attempt to pack. Which gives me heart palpitations because I don’t even know where the warm weather clothes are and whether I have anything to fit the kids.

But I soldier upstairs to the attic and right there between the 4 year girls clothing bin and Rick’s Cherry Hill Dancing with the Stars trophy is a Sit and Stroll. Apparently, it didn’t get washed away because it was in the attic and well, we didn’t get 37 feet of water.

So I now have THREE Sit and Strolls. In my house. Right now.

And three others I can easily borrow.

I’m thinking that six of them will be enough for the trip. Or perhaps I can open a small Sit and Stroll boutique.

I finally start getting the kids’ clothes organized…

Oh my gosh… that seriously looks like a lot of clothes. So I take some out, put the rest in a suitcase and then slowly start adding back all the ones I previously took out.

Obviously, I’m working on a book called, “How To Make Packing More Time Consuming and Less Effective.” I’m hoping for an April release date.

But then because packing is totally boring, Chase decides to nosedive into the wood floors right before bedtime.

So off we go to the hospital where they fix him right up…

You know if Chase was my first kid, this entire post would be about the trip to the hospital instead of my Sit and Stroll oversupply issue.

Florida update:

We have arrived.

Chase spent about 15 minutes screaming in his Sit and Stroll and the rest of the flight walking around, greeting passengers, giving out high fives, petting small dogs and flirting with flight attendants. I can’t be sure but I have a hunch he’s running for President.

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