You know what babies do? Poop. Babies poop... and YOU don't have to clean it up, do you?

I have heard countless times that my twins boys are "such good babies."

This is mostly true. From birth, Dex and Eli have been, on the whole, very well-behaved, quiet, content babies. For the most part, they only cry when they want something, and that something was almost always food, being the little piggies that they are.

When a new mother is ready to rip her already-thinning hair out of her scalp because her baby is screaming like he's being burned with a cattle brand (for no reason... you've fed, changed, held, and played with him, checked his temperature, given him a pacifier, and yet he continues to sing louder and more obnoxiously than Taylor Swift on a recent breakup rampage with boyfriend number 20,593,745), people just LOOOOOVE to say, "oh honey, it's okay. Babies cry. That's just what they do."

Excuse me.

How many times have I heard this? How many family members, friends, doctors and complete strangers have happily looked me in the eye while holding or playing with one of my currently peaceful, sleeping twins and said this? Never mind that most (re: most, not all) babies are usually content as small, chubby clams when they're cozy and snuggled up to someone's chest. Or when they're being wheeled around the store in the stroller by my husband for an hour without stopping while he zooms up and down aisles making race car sounds.

So, let's make sure we're on the same page so far. I have good babies. It could be much, much worse. One or both of them could have colic, or some horrible disease or disorder, or be disfigured, or not have made it through pregnancy and birth at all. I love my boys more than I thought was possible. I am fortunate and grateful that they were born healthy and full-sized and have never had any complications or lingering problems. They are adorable and hilarious 99% of the time.

The other 1%, I typically resemble a crazed, greasy, pissed-off grizzly bear and I want to gouge my f***ing eardrums out with a ballpoint pen.

Let me put this in terms that virtually anyone can understand, barring any serious mental retardation: until you have twins or more, you. don't. get it. Until you have your first baby(/ies) and they seem perfect and quiet and you get used to everything being ten times easier than everyone assured you it would be, you. don't. get it. Having a singleton first is all fine and dandy, especially if you have your husband, fiancee, boyfriend, etc. to help you out. When baby does something that makes you want to take a swan dive off the nearest skyscraper, you just hand him or her off to hubby and skee-daddle.

However, when you have TWO or more screaming babies and a pair of arms for each one (or less), there is no escape.

Who knew grass could be so much fun?

Insert obligatory pothead jokes here.

Seriously, my baby LOVES grass. His gramma put him down in the yard the other day and helped him sit up in the grass, and suddenly he's bending over so far his guts are probably squashed into his chest to get as much of this magical green stuff close to him as possible.

Who knew (before having kids) that such a simple, innocent thing could be SO entertaining??

Demi NOvato

I read an article in Cosmopolitan** magazine today about Demi Lovato.

The story goes something like this: Girl is born. Girl is f-ed up from kindergarten, on. Girl worships Barney and Shirley Temple. Girl is suicidal, depressed, bulimic, etc. Girl becomes cutter. Girl "overcomes obstacles" to become international pop music superstar.

Cosmo is making Lovato out to be a ginormic badass bombshell role model, and it's all I can do not to scream "WTF" at the pages. Since when do parents want their little girls idolizing someone who spent most of her life wanting to kill herself, cutting into her skin as a form of "therapy", binging and purging, and then suddenly thrust into the spotlight of Hollywood to succumb to the pressure of celebrity?

SHE EVEN SAYS in the article, and I quote: "I just had the idea in my head that I was on the Disney Channel, so somehow I had to prove that I was a badass. So on the weekends, I'd go crazy. There were moments when I was at parties and would laugh, like, 'Yeah, I'm such a role model.' Looking back, how disrespectful to the people who you are a role model to and the parents who are letting their children trust you."

So now here she is scampering around New York being photographed in skanky clothes (though, it must be said, most are not NEARLY as bad as what I've seen in this rag before) and talking about the tattoos she had done to cover up her scars. So, the moral of the story is, don't worry, if you have mental health issues and take a razor blade to your skin, you can just go get needled to cover up the damage and then become a rock star. Realistic, indeed.

I'm just saying, if I had a daughter, I'd be damned if this was the kind of person I'd let her follow and look up to. Which IS NOT saying that I condemn this girl for overcoming her issues. Good for her, in all seriousness. Nobody deserves to be bullied or have self-mutilation issues or eating disorders. But to hammer into the heads of little girls everywhere that if you get past your personal shit, you can become a superstar? Seriously?

I hate Hollywood sometimes. No, that's a lie. I hate it pretty much all the time.

**DISCLAIMER: Cosmo is 100% pure, retarded trash. The articles are over-edited to the point where they aren't even real anymore (re: "Confessions"). It focuses strictly on young women living in big cities working high-end jobs and assumes that its readers can afford outrageously priced beauty products and clothing (the concentration of ads is sickening). It promotes one-night stands and full-scale slutdom and plays up the single-girl party life. I am the first to admit that Cosmo is a giant waste of media space. That said, it's my guilty pleasure. Judge away.

Dear Idiots:

SPAY AND NEUTER YOUR FUCKING PETS.

BECAUSE OF IDIOTS THAT DUMP OFF ANIMALS WITHOUT HAVING THEM FIXED, OR ABANDON THEM BECAUSE THEY'RE PREGNANT BECAUSE YOU WERE TOO STUPID/CHEAP TO GET THEM FIXED, SHELTERS ARE OVERRUN WITH CRITTERS AND I AM STUCK FEELING GUILTY FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE THAT I COULDN'T SAVE THIS LITTER OF KITTENS.

IF YOU CAN'T CARE FOR A PET PROPERLY, DON'T OWN ONE!

Unconditional?

I read some stories recently about some children who had terrible grandparents.

In one, the grandparents babysat, but refused to honor the parents' request that they NOT smoke around the baby or let the dogs run rampant with the baby laying around vulnerable. As a result, supposedly the grandparents disowned the child. In another, the grandparents of a five year-old girl were seen frequently in commercials advocating pet adoption, and the girl asked on a regular basis if they could get a dog so that the grandparents would come and visit the dog and she would get to see them.

I find this incredibly sad. Regardless of your relationship with your own children, your grandchildren have done nothing wrong and do not deserve to be treated in such a way. How on earth could you punish your  grandchild for ANY reason?

We are SO thrilled, and so fortunate, to have parents that are crazy about our babies. Both my parents and my husband's parents have been phenomenally supportive, loving, and generous in helping us care for our little ones, and spending time with them. I had wonderful grandparents myself, as did my husband, and I would want nothing less for our babies.

We love you, Mom, Dad, Karen and Dave! Thank you so much for all that you do for us, and for the boys. God has truly blessed us with a beautiful family, both immediate and extended.

The Mortar To My Brick

I've heard women say many things about being a mom, and among them, that it's a faceless job... so to speak.

I'm referring to mothers, especially stay-at-home moms, becoming a sort of silent, driving force in a family. The unrecognized mortar that binds together the bricks of the family's foundation. I'm referring to how a child can go off to school for the day thinking that everything they do and everyone they see comprises the entire world they live in, come home, go to bed, and go back to their "world" all over again. They never notice the clean clothes in their drawer, the hot food on the table, the "I love you" note and extra cookie in their lunchbox... nor who did it all for them.

I'm a mother now (derp), and I am 110% in love with my amazing husband and my beautiful boys. Many women look down on me for being content to raise my children and take care of my family rather than work 80 hours a week at a law firm or travel back and forth to California or New York or Florida for business all year long. To these women, I say:

I had career dreams, of course. But while spending six years in school convincing myself that I needed a master's and/or PhD to be happy for the rest of my life, I knew deep down that the only things I truly wanted and needed to be happy were a good husband, children, and my family and friends. At the end of the day, isn't that what makes anyone happy? Doesn't everyone wait to come home to people they love after a long, crappy day of work? The only differences for me are that I don't get paid to do what I do, and I do the things I do for the benefit of others more than myself. There is no promotion, no pay raise, no upgrade.

There is, of course, one more difference....

Motherhood is a thankless job, one of little to no recognition. I came to realize that very quickly when I started noticing, going through photos and putting them into albums, that I was in a painful few number of the pictures. I was almost always the one holding the camera, and I still am. I see photos of my family, my in-laws, my friends, my husband, holding our babies, and can't help feeling depressed at the fact that nobody thinks to document my time with my children... or anyone else for that matter. I'm well aware that I'm not at all photogenic, and while I'm already a cow, the camera makes it 10x worse. Everyone takes pictures of everyone else because they know that preserving these memories now will make many people happy later. But rarely does anyone realize that I'm still there. I'm sure it sounds bitter, and to an extent, it kind of is. But I was the one that grew these perfect little humans inside my body for eight months. I was the one that suffered two lonely months in a bed by myself half the day, cut off from the world (unless you count Facebook). I was the one that had to lay in a hospital bed on countless occasions with agonizing back pain and too-small straps and fetal heart monitors cutting into my skin. I was the one that had to be cut open, and later suffer infection from the cesarean delivery of the twins. And I'm the one that goes unnoticed.

I know and am slightly ashamed that I am wallowing in self-pity. No one needs to tell me this. But, like so many things in life, I expected something different than I got.

I have no regrets. I don't regret my marriage, I don't regret conceiving a baby, much less two. I don't regret any of it. I would do it over again in half a heartbeat. But the important lesson I have learned is that my mother, my mother-in-law, every mother alive deserves far more praise, recognition, and thanks for what they do and have done. Knowing now what motherhood really is, I am ashamed that I didn't thank my own mother enough for the countless things, large and small, that she did for me and my siblings growing up. My mom is incredible, and I would not be where I am today without all of her love, care, and sacrifice. I love you, Momma. You are the mortar to my brick.

So, mothers everywhere, know that you are seen, heard, and appreciated... at the very least, by one fellow mom.

World's Dumbest Criminal.

Today, on CafeMom, I was milling around, reading through random posts, and I came across this one:

http://www.cafemom.com/group/115189/forums/read/18641516/Redbox_Is_it_REALLY_stealing_picture_proof?next=621#replies

I. Am. Stunned. Nevermind that this chick is a dirty, dirty thief. What stuns me even more is that she actually POSTED IT ON THE INTERNET FOR EVERYONE TO SEE. So what happened? A bunch of other members contacted Redbox and reported her. Now she's under investigation, and it's only a matter of time before they catch her and bust her.

What really makes me angry about this is that Brian, the boys and I are struggling financially, and we have limited funds for entertainment purposes. Redbox is one of the things that we keep on standby when we have no money, because their rental fees are cheaper than say, Family Video. However, with costs steadily increasing (because of bitches like this), what are we to do one day when it suddenly costs $5 even to borrow a movie from Redbox? This makes me so mad. To be honest, I already thought she deserved to be busted for doing it in the first place, but for being stupid enough to broadcast it on the internet? This should go on an episode of "World's Dumbest Criminals". Seriously.

In other news, Dexter is sitting beside me trying like hell to poop. A lot of grunting accompanies his efforts, and lots of feet in the air or scrunching up into a ball and turning red in the face.

"Oh, Mother! I come bearing a gift. I'll give you a hint: it's in my diaper, and it's not a toaster."