Why I should probably be more responsible than a second-grader

My mom said that to me today. She was expressing frustration that my little brother has taken two days to clean his room. Then there was an awkward pause, as I was lying on my own bed (hiding from the sleeping babies) looking around at the giant chaotic monster that is my bedroom, and which has been like that for the last . . . oh, forever. I guess technically I've only had that bedroom for 2 1/2 weeks, but I mostly just transplanted the mess from my last bedroom. I'm not proud of it.

What I am proud of is my level of motivation. I'm totally writing a book. But you don't get to read it. So don't ask. Maybe someday.

I'm also proud of my ability to go out in public with my children by myself. We go on walks regularly (also because we have walking paths and ponds and stuff next to our house and who can resist baby ducks?) Also, last week I took them all to the grocery store, entirely by myself. And I learned some things.

Here are some things that I love:

-My children

-When I have happy, content, non-whiny children

-When people admire my happy, content, non-whiny, adorable children

-When people admire me for having such happy, content, non-whiny, adorable children

These things all happened at the grocery store last week, which proves to me that prayer works. (Seriously, I was geared up for the worst taking all three of them.) But there's something else that happened that I don't love: when we were walking up to the store, with one baby strapped to my chest, another in his carseat in the main basket of the cart, and Katie sitting in the child seat of the cart, and another lady walked out of the store. She saw us, raised her eyebrows, and said, "Wow. Just, wow."

But you know what? I think I do love it. Because all those people who raise their eyebrows at me when they see all my babies are really just jealous. They don't have a kid running laps around them while we go for a walk, then suddenly stopping just to hug them around the knees and say, "You're the best, mom!" They don't have the most adorable twins that have ever existed, and who giggle and grin and start doing windmill arms whenever you get within eyesight.

I definitely have it good. I have beautiful, intelligent, healthy children, my husband is going to be a doctor, and we have a really amazing ward and place to live while we raise these children and turn Mike into a doctor. And someday we're going to have a yard. But for now, I'm okay with having the neighborhood take care of the grass and such. Really, it's okay with me.

Okay, enough emotions.

You know what I've noticed? I have a very strong affinity for Dunkin' Donuts. Mike and my mom have both commented that Dunkin' really isn't that spectacular. There are other donuts which are equally as good. But my dad has instilled in me this strong desire for Boston Creams and Chocolate Honey-Glazed donuts which can never be abated. And I really think it has something to do with how far away and unavailable they've been my whole life. Also because they're more dense and delicious than, say, Krispy Kremes, which are mostly just air with sugar poured on top. (Really, I've never understood why those are so popular.)

Also, I am not doing so hot with the whole exercise-and-eat-healthy-to-lose-weight thing. I think the whole nursing-twins thing is covering my behind, but as soon as these boys are weaned? Oh boy. I'm going to be a balloon. That whole self esteem boost that I had right after the twins were born is starting to wane and I think I need to get more serious about this whole working out thing. Any ideas? Katie is pretty good at encouraging me, but she gets rather easily distracted.

I had more thoughts, but I don't remember what they were. Also, Josh is starting to wake up, which means I should go feed him and make dinner. Because I'm all domestic now and actually make real dinner all the time, which I haven't done in like . . . a year? At least.

Tootles!