We had something of a disaster occur this morning. The girls and I were supposed to meet a former professional contact of mine for a friendly breakfast at 8:30 this morning. For once, I actually left the house not on time or late but EARLY. I got about halfway to the restaurant and realized that my wallet was not in the diaper bag, but rather in my purse at home. So annoying. I turned around to get it, which ate up all of my extra time and ensured that I would be approximately 10 minutes late. I had hoped to be early so that I didn't walk into the restaurant all baby-and-highchair-wielding crazy ladylike, but rather have this guy show up to find the three of us already settled at a table with Belly and The Bug cheerfully nibbling away on scones and me sipping a latte. I was driving along trying to put together Plan B for restaurant entry so that the aforementioned crazy lady was not a look I rocked when it sounded like a tidal wave hit the back seat. I immediately pulled over and discovered that Belly had let loose a tsunami of puke. It was mostly on the seat and her coat sleeve, so I figured I'd wipe it up as best I could and we'd be back on our way. As I was doing that, The Bug projectile puked, too. WTF?? Same scenario - hardly any on her, so off we go. We got about two blocks further and The Bug started puking again - this time straight down into her coat. I called our breakfast date (who was already at our meeting spot) to cancel and immediately turned around to drive home. The Bug puked again as we were pulling in the driveway. SO STRANGE!! I mean, these girls were serious pukers when they were little-little, but the last 5 or 6 months have been predominantly puke-free. Once we were home, it came to light that Dude had basically sabotaged me. He'd given them straight orange juice this morning (not watered down at all) AND - thinking he was doing me a favor - had added in their liquid vitamins. Mind you, they hadn't eaten anything because we were going out for breakfast. Couple that harshness with riding backward in their carseats - we were doomed. My breakfast plans never stood a chance.

Dude, of course, was not intentional in his ways. BUT - I had told him a few days ago when he suggested putting vitamins in morning juice (since I consistently forget to give them later in the day) that I didn't think it was a good idea and that they should be given with food. I believe my exact words were, "The vitamins can be hard on their stomachs and I don't want them to puke." And yet...there they were. In the morning juice.

After everyone was filled up with plain blueberry waffles and played for a bit, The Bug seemed pretty tired. I've been trying to keep them up until 12-12:30p so they are thoroughly exhausted for their nap, but here it was 10:30a and there were already yawns. We went up to the girls' room to play with that set of toys and books and the change of scenery seemed to reinvigorate them for awhile. But right around 11:20a, both girls snuggled up next to me on their bed and were sawing logs ten minutes later. Get this: The Bug slept until 2p and Belly slept until almost 2:30p!!! It was wonderful! The Bug was really sweet when she woke up and wanted to snuggle and give butterfly kisses for about ten minutes. Belly was equally adorable. The day was turning out to be pretty good after the morning craziness.

We came downstairs and had lunch (polishing off the last of those fabulous Fortnum & Mason's Raspberry Preserves with Drambuie). Belly was elbow-deep in her peanut butter and jelly when a foul stench started wafting up from her highchair. I figured she had maybe five minutes until she was done with lunch, so I let her carry on. As soon as she finished, I washed her hands and face and lifted her out of her chair...only to feel that the back of her pants were wet and warm...and my hand was now covered in poop. It was a leg leaker. Why?! By the time I had her naked and in the tub, we both had shit everywhere. So totally unpleasant.

Since then, The Bug has bit Belly three times and Belly now cries unless I hold her. Standing. I'm actually typing with just my left hand at the moment. I love these little girls so fiercely, so completely, so devotedly...but I think I'm living in a loony bin. I'm hopeful that this is just a phase. They turn from so sweet and fun to holy terrors in the blink of an eye. I don't know why it catches me off guard, but it really does and I feel like not-a-good mom. Please be a phase...or let me get better at this. Or both.