Pretty Good Little Weekend.

The kids were pretty well behaved and we got quite a bit done this weekend.  We even packed the little ones up and did a short hike which they not only tolerated but mostly slept through. One blip in the radar was a perfect illustration of the difficulty twins present.  So, my wife had to work an event Sunday night.  No problem I said.  I got this I said.  My smuggness was oozing.  To this point they had been great.  Even when not smiling they were at least chill.  We had been at a BBQ and the little girl was very social.  My son, was a little cranky but he mostly just kept to himself in the stroller.  So I figure, shit, we will play for a little bit, I will feed them, get them ready for bed, and then boom... daddy gets a beer and Netflix movie to celebrate his triumph!  The little bird had other ideas.  Once the lady left there was a double implosion the likes of which I had not seen.  Screaming.  Didn't matter if they were sitting, lying down, in the crib, on the playmat, in the swing.  It was screaming as if we were in a B-slasher flick. Maybe I don't know any better but the only way to soothe a new born is to pick them up and comfort them right?  Trying that move w/ 2 writhing screaming banshees is next to impossible.  So I pick up one and try to calm them down for 2 minutes and then I put that one down and try the other one who has ramped up to level red meltdown, then back to baby number 1 who has taken over trying to break the sound barrier, and so on.  The whole time wishing I had cracked that beer earlier and trying to curse at the top of my lungs as I plead for them to calm down.  Pacifier?  Yeah, f*** you daddy. Pick that shit up off the floor. Again. Rattle? Yeah, I am going to bash myself in the face and then my brother and really get this party started before chucking it at the cat. Obviously the cat jumps in the mix whining for food. I have to try with every last bit of energy not to kick Boomer in the face.  Needless to say diaper change did not go well.  My only respite was food as I do a double feed jamming a couple bottles in their mouths at the same time and stare off into space... a broken man.  They did take it easy on me and go down to sleep in a somewhat reasonable time frame. Finally, Miller Time.  BTW, if you are on Netflix and think the Lakey Peterson surf movie might be kind of cool?  It is not.  It is a long movie that seems like it is written and directed by a teenager and funded by her parents.  She is a sick surfer but like most teens a mental midget. You will want to shoot yourself in the face after 20 minutes.  So I wanted to shoot myself in the face for about 1 hour and 15 minutes as I watched the whole thing.  I am an idiot.