What to wear?

I was getting the children dressed the other day, and it occurred to me that I may be thinking too much about what outfits to put them in. As I stood in front of their closet for a solid 10 minutes, I genuinely thought through the various pros and cons of different attire. Obviously I could go with a footie pajama look...classic. Maybe, go with a footless pajama it's a little more formal. Although, if we're gonna go formal we might as well go all out, cargo pants, button down shirt, and sweater vest.

Should they wear a onsie? Long sleeve or short sleeve? Long sleeve could be too hot...short sleeve could be too cold. Ok, back to jammies. Button down or zip-up? If I do go footless, they'll have to wear socks because their little feet get so cold.

I now wonder what in the world I am so concerned about? The kids aren't going anywhere, no one is going to see them. It's not like they are going to be at red carpet event later with some entertainment reporter asking them "Who are you wearing?"
"Well my onsie is by Carter's, I have a Baby Gap hoodie, Gymboree socks, Osh-Kosh overalls, and the hat is by Amy Coe.

Let's face it what they wear is more about me then it is about them. Judging by the way Emerson giggles and kicks his feet when he finally gets a wet diaper off, I'm pretty sure he would prefer no clothes at all. I'll be the first to admit that baby clothes are stinkin' cute, but a Gap onsie is an awfully expensive item to buy, considering all it really does is absorb spit-up.

Around the holidays Jami and I felt compelled to really dress the kids up. Zoey had a very cute dress on, and Emerson looked like a little mini-me with his vest and driver cap. We proceeded to pose them in an over-sized chair and even used a solid colored blanket as a Christmas backdrop, we had effectively turned my parents home into a proper Olan Mills Studio. After the pictures were taken, we immediately put bibs on the kids so they wouldn't ruin their outfits by doing something dastardly like drooling, throwing up, or any other behavior that is common for a baby to do. How dare they be typical babies when we...their parents, have dressed them so fabulously. No, when dressed up, our children should know how to "work a camera", and give me an authentic Blue Steel pose a la Derek Zoolander.

Speaking of baby clothes, you don't see a lot of Spandex at your local Babies are Us store, I think this is tragic. Think about it. No really think about it, get a mental picture of a baby in a spandex suit...how adorable is that! The real genius of the Cute Zoot (that's what I'm tentatively calling this invention) is that it will stretch with your baby as they grow. Our suits will stretch your dollars (our tentative tag line). Jami and I have approximately 734lbs. of clothing that no longer fit our children. Many of these relics were worn only once, or not at all. If only they were made of spandex.

That's the other thing, when your kids are born everyone is so excited for you. Your friends and family are understandably caught up in the glorious moment with you, so they go out and buy all kinds of cute outfits. As such, there are a solid 8 weeks when if you wanted to, you wouldn't have to do laundry; your kids could quite literally wear something different everyday. However, the rate at which kids grow, is inversely proportionate to the amount of correctly sized clothes in their closet. Around week 9 you suddenly realize you have no clothes for your baby, and they spend the day wearing a diaper, a pair of socks, and one of your old T-shirts fitted on them with Duct Tape. Newborns grow quickly. One morning around week 3 I put Emerson in a onsie, by bedtime he had outgrown it. He looked like Lou Ferrigno portraying the Bruce Banner to Incredible Hulk transformation and busting the seams of his clothing. Now that I think of it, perhaps Bruce Banner/ Hulk would have benefited from a spandex Cute Zoot...I think another market just opened up for my new venture.

Well I'm off to Jo-Ann Fabrics to buy a palette of spandex and a sewing machine. I wonder if I can find a spit-up repellent Scotch Guard-type spray for my Cute Zoots? Until next time.

Venturing out

The kids and I had a big day Monday. With momma at work I had the twins by myself again, and decided it would be fun to venture out into the world for the first time alone! First things first, where to go? Let's see...the Children's museum? Probably a bit too ambitious for our first outing, sans mom. The Zoo? Probably not as special for 2 month old infants as I have built up in my mind. How about the Target store less than a mile from my house...perfect! I needed to get some new socks and boxer briefs anyways since my current garments have been in the rotation for a solid 4 years now. It was your classic two birds one stone scenario.

Preparing to go anywhere with infant twins is logistically on par with a small military campaign. Hauling two kids, their car seats, the Kolcraft stroller, all of the baby gear, and rations; one could easily be mistaken for setting up an Army bivouac. Just getting out of the house requires Navy SEAL-like maneuvering. At approx. 1500 hours, I led my platoon to the operational canteen for chow; at 1530 we exercised tactical burping; at 1545 we initiated evacuation procedures, locking all infants down in car seats and securing transportation in the GMC Envoy, once the supply line loaded all provisions into our vehicle; our squadron left alpha base at approx. 1600 hours to rendezvous point, code name- Target. Hooah!

I pulled into the Target parking lot and found a spot near the front. Stepping around to the back of our SUV, I extracted the mighty Kolcraft Stroller. This stroller is amazing. It's the Cadillac of twin strollers, and I don't mean one of those new hybrid Cadillacs, I'm talking old school Caddy. The kind that got 3mpg. The kind that planes could land and take off from, aircraft carrier style. Our Stroller is seriously only a hood ornament and some tail fins away from being one of Elvis' personal cars.

I unfolded the stroller and locked the wheels in place. I carefully extracted Z from the car, being cautious not to wake her. After locking her seat in place, I retrieved E and performed the exercise again. Stepping behind the controls of the stroller I felt somewhat like a Gladiator riding a chariot, this was probably more of a Walter Mitty type overreaction to having the high point of my day being pushing my children around Target in a stroller...but whatever.

I began to cruise through the parking lot, the stroller responding fluidly to my every movement. As I neared the entrance, I saw a few Target employees that were on a break. One of them, a middle aged lady, remarked aloud towards me, "There's something you don't see everyday!" I realized she thought it unusual that a man would be taking his infant twins out to Target for an afternoon activity. It was as if I was breaking some unspoken social norm, as though I was doing something that only a mother does. Smiling back to her I quipped, "maybe there's a reason!" Panic stirred as I thought to myself...maybe there IS a reason you don't see this everyday.

My panic quickly faded as I crossed the threshold of the consumer Mecca, known as Target. The entire store filled with two distinct groups of people; working moms making a quick stop on their way home after work, and housewives hauling their children around on as they checked off items on their to do list. I was the only person there with enough testosterone to grow facial hair, (excluding the elderly lady with the spotty beard, whom I assume was on some sort of hormone replacement therapy.) There were fewer men at Target that afternoon than at a Gloria Steinem lecture.

I made my way to the back of the store, to grab some socks from the men's section. It seemed as though every Y-chromosome-less, eye was inexplicably drawn towards me as I pushed the twins to and fro. The reaction of these women were all the same; they would tilt their heads to the side, bend down slightly as if to get a better view of the kids, raise their eyebrows, and silently mouth Awwwwwww! I had somehow attained a celebrity like status at Target. These women seemed to believe that I somehow understood what they go through as mothers. "This man gets it. He gets what my lazy-good-for-nothing husband could never comprehend! God bless him." They swarmed around the stroller like paparazzi chasing down a photo-op of a celebrity couple and their newly adopted Cambodian baby.

Women began to approach us, a mob of goodwill and cheer. It was like being accepted into some exclusive club for mom's only, full of play dates, power walking, and Target shopping. The only thing that could possibly be similar is, if I were to land on an uncharted island after a plane crash, and the natives mistook me for some sort of magical being. I half way expected these women to begin fanning me with palm fronds.

"Well look at you!"
"Aren't you brave!"
"Isn't that just precious!"
These were the type of comments we were getting, followed by offers of help.
"Can I get you something to drink? You sure have your hands full!"
"Do you need me to push a cart for you? I can follow you around and do my shopping tomorrow, you sure have your hands full!"
"Do you need help to your car? Can I pay for your items? You sure have your hands full!"
What a great experience, Jami must love taking the kids out with her!

I bashfully shrugged the comments off and grabbed my socks and boxer briefs. I checked out to a slew of more appreciative looks, oohs and ahhs. As I packed the Envoy back up, I'm sure I was glowing. Those women who don't know me and have never really seen me interact with my kids are right, I am a great and brave father.

I got home, unloaded the car, and realized that time had really gotten away from me. Jami would be home soon, I surveyed the house and realized that perhaps the Target crowd had an unrealistic portrait of me. The diapers strewn about, the laundry backed up, the dishes in need of washing, all betrayed the Super Dad image my Target groupies might have had of me.

While my first trip out was successful, I think more than anything it reaffirmed to me how amazing a wife and mother Jami is. I compare small excursions with the kids to scaled down Military invasions. Jami just does them because, like the hundreds of other things on her to do list, they just need to be done. She takes care of the kids, without complaint and just the other day my beautiful, smart, funny, and vegetarian wife...also made me a delicious meatloaf. So to all the incomparable stay-at-home moms and working moms, I salute you; and if you should ever see me with the twins at Target, tell me to hurry up and checkout, because the house ain't gonna clean itself.

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