Being married to Mr Surfer means that there’s an instant understanding of what each of our strengths are and how they are aligned to our individual roles in twinlet wrangling.
He’s good at calming them at night. I can deal with the early morning wake-up screams, uh, I mean calls. He’s the even keel that can strap them into their car seats despite the yelling and kicking. I was the one who taught them how to say “Thank you…”
It’s high five’s all around for huge team work effort.
However, coming up is yet our biggest challenge: the monumental task of toilet-training the twinlets. Since the boys turned 2 in January, we have been delaying the whole process. It’s taken us this long to manage double nappy changes. I don’t deny that the transition of scattered poo and hit-miss pee is imminent. I just don’t want to deal with it right now.
The other day, though, I RSVP’ed to a “How to Toilet Train Multiples” information night at the local community centre. When the evening came, Mr Surfer actually volunteered to go in my place.
“Have the night off. Stay home and relax while the boys are asleep…”
And off he innocently trundled to make the 7:30 meet up.
In the meantime, I ran a bath, turned off the lights, lit a candle and soaked my weary body in bubbles.
By 7:47pm, I was fully relaxed. I was just about to look forward to a night of being solo, when my phone beeped with a text message from Mr Surfer…
In response, I sent him this photo…
An hour later he sent this massive brain dump…
Obviously he was paying full attention and taking lots of notes (He’s can be a little geeky like that…)
But another hour rolled by and there was no news. I started to think that he was passing on the information as an ulterior motive.
By the time it reached 10:30, I was adamant that all that talking about teaching your toddler to aim correctly in the toilet (something men are still trying to master) and late night poo-splosions were too much for him. I started to place bets that he had actually done a runner.
Interestingly enough, I wasn’t so much worried that he had possibly left me. I was terrified over the fact that he was doing it while the boys weren’t toilet-trained yet.
Yeah, I know…how DARE he ???!!!
His last words to me can’t be, “Undies under the pull-ups…”
Luckily, before the crazy woman random thoughts became uncontrollable, guess who walked through the door, albeit looking frazzled and a little doe-y eyed with information overload.
Are we any closer to dealing with the massive task at hand?
With all the invaluable tips and know-how’s that he’s now equipped with, Mr Surfer thinks the twinlets are ready. Sounds good to me.
Maybe I should just leave him to it and run away to a far distant tropical island. What do you say ?
Linking up with Jess at Diary of a SAHM for IBOT.
And linking this baby up to Dr Bron’s Pick a Post…