Sorry, but we've got our hands kind of full

Our plan was to go to breakfast yesterday. I love plans. One day, my goal is to have a plan that comes to fruition. ... that would be awesome. Anyway, Gina wanted to go to spin in the morning, so we were going to go as soon as she got back. But when she got back we realized we were out of diapers (well, we knew we were out, we'd just not thought about when we were going to get more) so we had to go to Costco first. ... where we ended up with $150 worth of non-diaper items as well. So we went to lunch instead. As the lady led us to our table we noticed there was another little girl about our age at the table next to us. They had the parents and the grandparents all there and they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Naturally, as the circus parked itself next to them, they started up a conversation with us (their daughter was only about a month older then the girls, so they were right at the same level). The problem is they had a 4 on 1 ratio at their table. Four adults for every toddler. We've got a 1 on 1 ratio. ... so while they kept wanting to continue conversations, we were more focused on the flying avocado and the arms up to their elbows in ranch dressing. They were very nice people, but it didn't dawn on them that our lives were just a little more complicated then theirs at the moment. I noticed a couple times, later in the meal, the parents just staring at us as we each fed a baby with on hand, simultaneously feeding ourselves with the other, and some how managing to wipe up the spills and splats with a yet unidentified third arm. I quite imagine that we look like cartoon octopuses operating a New York City switchboard. Or at the very least like those aliens in "Men in Black" who operate the computer. And this wasn't the only example of the dichotomy this weekend. On Saturday we took the girls to the Santa Anita Race Track because they were having a food truck festival in the infield. Thought it would be fun. ... I was wrong. 80 trucks each with a minimum wait of an hour (or about 150 people per line). And we didn't get there until late in the day so half the people who weren't there with children were drunk and passing out on the infield grass. Not a really good "family" environment even though that was the pitch I heard on the radio. So we left and got In N' Out instead. ... which was a great consolation prize. But as we're walking back to the car (stroller would have been a good thing to bring today) Gina was exhausted from carrying a baby the whole time so I had to muscle up and carry both. Both girls are on the brink of 30 pounds, and while 60 pounds isn't that much. ... it really is when you had to park in the very furthest spot in a really long parking lot. As I'm walking (and I'm hoofing it, almost 20 yards in front of Gina because my arms feel like they're going to fall off any second and I'd hate to drop a baby in a parking lot) people are pointing, and awing, walking by us with their one baby in a nice little stroller. ... with wheels, and making comments that indicate they'd like me to stop so they can see the girls and talk with me. I just wanted a shirt at that very moment that said "Hello, 60 pounds of baby. Take you're picture and get out of my way." But that's our life. And when we get back in the car and the circulation returns to my thumbs and the burger rests nicely in my belly. ... I wouldn't want things any other way. Because when your hands are full, it keeps them out of trouble.