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Friday, March 23, 2012

Threshold of Pain

My kids have a threshold problem. It's as if they get stuck there, in the door frame, at the car, and most especially at the staircase, just caught between going and coming, not wanting one experience to end and so lingering, but hoping the next will have already begun and so impatient and demanding even as they refuse to move.

This causes much drama in the mornings, especially because it's before my coffee and I am ill-equipped to deal with their special brand of blunt torture after just rising.

The scene: After finding any number of reasons to cry before I'm fully awake (their towels aren't straight, they have the little side of the bed, they want a different color toothpaste, one of them got to shut the door and not the other, they left their lovey somewhere but need me to get it when I'm...busy) we finally rustle ourselves to the hallway.

We are greeted by the stairs, which I now know mean nothing if not destruction and terror. This is where the whole operation falls apart each morning, as the twins peer over the steps, hovering, waiting, thinking. How can they make it miserable this morning?

They always manage, whether it's by not descending at all, just standing there, looking at me defiantly, as if they are not hungry, not thirsty, do not need to start their day, would be perfectly happy chilling on the stairs for the rest of their lives in fact, or racing down the stairs--only in a house of three-year-old twins, there is no winner, only losers. Whoever makes it down first gloats while the other screams shards of glass right into my eardrums. Sometimes they trick me and begin to go down, only to stop because they've remembered something is not quite right, and we absolutely need a do-over right now. No. No, no, no, no.

And every morning I wonder to myself why I can't just have normal children who can wake up in the morning not as bears, but as humans, and who can move through any threshold with ease, as if it ain't no thing.

Simple. Wake up. Go upstairs. Brush teeth. Go downstairs.

But no. Instead, we have the post above. Why, girls, why?


  1. This is so funny to me. Who knows what I have in store in the next years?

    As for us, the last girl to brush her teeth at night gets to press the button on the sterilizer, which turns on a blue light. They love doing this but lately, whichever girl gets the task simply giggles with her finger on the button, delaying the delight of pressing it! I stand there, holding the girl up, waiting....waiting...and yes, I have pressed their finger down on an especially impatient night (bad, i know) but that got me instant peals of screeching screams and crying! Sigh. They are amusing though. :)

  2. I am sorry to say that I suspect you (and I) have perfectly normal children. I think we should actually be praying for that strange and rare brand of child that is bear-characteristic free.

  3. Haha, my kids will stretch out every one-minute piece of our bedtime routine. If we're not strict and on our game, getting to bed would take four hours every night.

    Such a shame about the morning bears. I wish they'd be as happy in the morning as they are when they're supposed to be sleeping at night and playing instead.

  4. Brushing your teeth can be really great for your teeth, especially if you love eating.

  5. You just always have to believe in yourself and always remember to brush your teeth everyday.

  6. Kids are major source of headache for moms. I suggest you buy a very child-appealing toothbrush for them like blinking toothbrush or those with cartoon characters handle. The dentist from Sydney CBD told me that it's going to motivate the kids to brush their teeth.



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