Adventures in Baby Proofing

Whether or not you are one who believes in such things, there are "signs" all around us in the world. Some people live their lives by these signs, some ignore them as happenstance. Gina's grandmother, for example, is from Greece and she read in a coffee cup (it's an old Greek tradition so just go with it) that we were having twins over a year before we conceived the girls. She's in touch with the signs. I tend to recognize them after the fact, when it's a little too late to do anything about them. Like that Mountain Avenue exit we just past a mile ago. ... that was the same Mountain Avenue exit we were supposed to get off on, but I enjoy U-turns. We bought our condo about 5 years ago (yeah, look at market history and you'll see exactly how exceptional my timing was there. ... talk about signs) at the height of the market in one of the biggest crash areas of California - Orange County. Forget the obvious signs on this one, the key was that the people we bought it from were moving because they were expecting a baby (hint, hint) and there just wasn't enough room for the the three of them. ... now there's the four of us. You would think newlyweds looking to start a family someday would consider this, but it was, after all, only going to be a "two year" house. So five years later here we are. Aside from space, we're running into another frustrating problem which we could have foreseen long ago. Baby proofing. We bought this place because it was with in our budget (we were smart and did stick with something we could afford on only one salary, god forbid. ... which He didn't), but we also bought it because of how nicely it had been upgraded. Gorgeous counters, custom cabinetry, hardwood floors, ect. But you ever notice that people who have nice things typically have one thing in common? No children. That's because nice things aren't baby proofable. Yep, I just made up that word. That just happened. Because custom cabinets, with all their intricacies, don't have thick enough wood to drill latches in to, and decorative doors overlap the cupboard too far to install locks in (at least if you ever want to UNlock them). Brushed chrome handles can't be strapped down and granite counter tops. ... well, they're granite. Since the girls became mobile I've been trying everything to baby proof this place and it's official; yesterday the last option out there failed. I've managed to make the entire baby proof section of Baby's R Us not work. We've only got one cabinet (the one under the sink) that I've managed to lock down from prying hands. Everything else is a glorified toy bin. So all of our toxins and dangerous items are now crammed in there like Noah with a last minute memo from God that he's got to take 10 of every animal instead of just the 2. It's just the way it's going to have to be. And let me just say to future dads: (not that I didn't try) get the baby proofing done before they can move. There is nothing more challenging (over exaggeration) than trying to drill a 7mm hole only 1/8 of an inch in to a cabinet door with out coming out the other side while a sticky little hand meticulously plucks out your leg hairs. This attempt last night was really tricky and I finally decided to continue when the girls were in the bath because my leg was almost completely bald and I couldn't take everyone "helping" so much. But the blasted thing didn't work and I was still in the middle of drilling a giant hole in the back of my cabinet door when naked, bathed babies came tearing out of the bathroom and back to my work area. There's something a little unnerving at how my 1 year old girls' eyes light up at the sight of power tools. Oh no. ... I get the feeling I'm missing another sign here.

You like me. You really, really like me!

The dust has settled. The votes have been tallied and the envelopes opened. And now, I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of you who have voted and awarded the Kopp Twins with the 2010 Best Writing award. This really means a lot to me, more so than any of the other award could. We were handily beaten in the Blog of the Year category, but I have to be honest with you, we were severely outmatched there. The other two finalist had far superior blogs in design, content and all around composure. Looking at them I had to wonder aloud, "What am I doing in this category? I don't belong here." The truth is this blog hinges on it's writing. That's pretty much all I have to offer. I'm not an astounding photographer. I don't shoot brilliant video. I don't offer reviews and product placements and monthly giveaways. I just have my stories. Our adventures written out as best as I can. And that's the way I like it. So to be awarded for that, to be told that what I do, I do well. ... that really makes me proud. I did not deserve to win Blog of the Year. I have no qualms or hard feelings there. I do feel I deserved to be in the running for Writing and I am touched that others thought me worthy of that award. The other two in that category are wonderfully writing as well, each deserving to be considered along with me, so to be among such good company is even more touching. I thank you for your support thus far, and I hope you choose to come along with us as our adventures continue. We will be revamping the blog a little in the next week or so (everyone deserves a make over from time to time, and with our new trophy now seems like a good opportunity) and I hope you find the changes to be for the better.
Much gratitude for your continued support,
Kyle

Two Girls + One Dad = Never on Time. ... Ever

Well, Gina and Yiayia had their big Holiday Jewelery boutique this weekend so, for the most part, I'm on single parent duty. But that doesn't stop me for overbooking myself, though. So Saturday I entered us to join in on a one mile fun run to kick of the Belmont Shores Christmas Parade. I even talked Papa Jon into running with us. ... dressed as Santa Claus. ... of course the trade off is that I would run as Buddy the Elf from the movie Elf. The girls Thea Ilianna has also been bugging me to join in on one of our races (she's 11) so I signed her up for the kids run taking place after and loaded her up with my brood. The run was to start at 6pm, kids run at 6:15 and they suggested being there at 5:30. Well we were there at 5:30. I'd even go so far as to say we were there at 5:28 We didn't find parking, however, until 5:50. ... over a mile away. They told us to pay 10 bucks and park at a nearby school parking lot. Found the school. School had no parking lot, nor anyone willing to take my 10 bucks. So after sprinting to the race site we got there just in time to watch everyone run by us at 6:05. I grabbed Ilianna and left the girls with my sister so I could at least get her to the start of the course in time for her run. We got about a block when I noticed a group of kids run by us. I turned to watch, a little confused as we still had 5 minutes until the kids were to run. Then I saw the "clean up" guy follow them up in a little golf cart. I looked down at Ilianna who looked up at me dejected. So we both missed our runs (I was late, she was early, but they sent the kids with the adults as not that many had signed up). Amazingly, though, Papa Jon still got in and even won second prize in the costume contest. Apparently he parked near the end of the course and just jumped in to finish out the last 100 feet or so. When the guy handed him his award he told him "just so you know, I cheated." To which the guy responded "Just so you know. ... I don't care." Gotta love the Holiday Spirit! So Buddy the Elf corralled his dejected sister in law, his cranky daughters and his cold sister and headed off in to the freezing winter night. The End.

Little Theif

There's a moment in the life of a twin parent that is more alarming then any other non-injury related moment. The second you realize you've run out of diapers with out knowing it. Especially first thing in the morning. You've now got two ticking time bombs to worry about going off at any moment and you start running through your head your options: can we make it Costco and back before one of these goes off? Should we suck it up and buy the name brand at the market on the corner? Do I cut the red wire or the blue? Do you feel lucky? Well? Do you... punk?! So rather than feed breakfast this morning or go on our Saturday morning run (our attempt to keep the chubby dog in shape) we piled in to the car and headed to Target. Because a trip like this isn't exciting in it's own right we had to add in to the equation that we all overslept (not normally a bad thing) and Gina had to make it to teach her yoga class in an hour. ... so we were short on time. Well after running through the store and making our way through check out, I was pushing one of the carts (two carts - one per baby - for one pack of diapers. ... ridiculous) and I suddenly noticed that Arianna was playing with a Princess Jasmine doll. ... which we don't own. I'm not entirely sure how or when she got a hold of it but my daughter is now, officially, a shop lifter. I wrestled it from her, left Gina to load everyone back in the car, and took the walk of shame back to the check out girl and apologized. She seemed more confused why I returned it and didn't just keep the five finger discount. I'm not going to start encouraging theft this early on. ... that's not how I want to end up putting my law degree to use.

No more monkeys sleepin' in my bed

3 o'clock in the morning is an interersting time. It's kind of like going to one of modernist art museam in Eastern Berlin. You don't really want to be there, but if you find yourself there by mistake you can't help but note the surealistic contrast to the norm. Usually, if I'm conscious at 3am, it's for a bathroom visit - during which I'm either begging our bathroom dwelling cat (yes, we have one of these and she almost never leaves the bathroom. ... I don't brag about her in blogs much because. ... well, she's weird) not to claw my sleepy pants as they bunch around my ankles or I'm staring at the soft glow of the night light panel on the hallway light switch as it has this irregular glow which I'm certain has a pattern to it, I just have to crack it and maybe I'll solve world hunger. Needless to say brain function at this time period is questionable. Well, 3 am this morning involved none of these things as Genevieve dominated the early morning hours. As usual, I'm not sure what her deal was, but she was upset about something. First Gina went in there with some water and rocked her a bit, this settled her and Gina came back. About 10 minutes later, though, she was back up again so it was my turn. Daddy's aren't necessarily better at this stuff then mommys, but I find that if the girls get me in the middle of the night, they don't want to risk getting me again so they go back to sleep. I rocked Genevieve for a good 10 minutes or so and she conked out pretty good so I put her back to bed. As I slowly slid my hand out from under her head, though, POP - eyes wide open. I fled the scene quickly and she stayed quiet for about 15 minutes, but then she was back up again. Gina got the tylenol and then went back in. Nearing 4am I thought I'd try to sleep until I got the call from the dugout to go back in. I woke up a little while later to a tapping on my back. I went to roll over and figure out what Gina was doing and found myself lodged against a speed bump. Someone how the con had worked and Genevieve had found her way in to our bed. It's been nearly 8 months since we had company, but I should explain that Gina was working a jewlery boutique with her mom until almost midnight the night before, so she was exhausted and not willing to fight. I had to get up in an hour so I too was not willing to fight. Check mate. Hopefully this doesn't turn in to a pattern of any kind. This bed ain't big enough for the three of us. ... heck, this bed is barely big enough for me alone. I think this is how dads end up sleeping on sofas.

We have a saboteur among us

I sense a disturbance in the force. Someone in my home is pitting my own daughters against me, and I have a feeling it's the one who is supposed to be my best friend. (Cue murder mystery music) Last night I was feeding the girls dinner after Gina had left to teach; a nice little meal of pasta, meat sauce and vegetables. Arianna sits on my left side, Genevieve on my right as they do every night. The girls are flying through their pasta with an unbelievable speed - well, Genevieve isn't unbelievable, that girl loves food, but Arianna is giving me very little resistance. This is my first clue that something is a foot. I turned around to grab more pasta for Genevieve and as I turned back, that's when I saw it. Out of the corner of my left eye (in which I'm nearly blind so that's got to say something about how UN-sneaky they were being) I see Arianna's right hand flick off the table quickly and I hear the exhale of dog breath as Karma catches something before it can hit the ground. I stare wide eyed at Arianna who looks at me with one of those quizzical "what?" expressions. I turn to Karma who pretends to be watching the cat walk by. "I'm on to you" I tell them both. Karma walks away to the other side of the kitchen and sits innocently, looking at us from 10 feet away. I continue on, my gut telling me that the two of them are in cahoots. A few minutes pass and then I catch them in the act. Arianna starts dangling empty fingers over the side of her high chair. I look at Karma who stares intently at them like a base runner staring at the third base coach, waiting for the signal to steal. Arianna looks at Karma, who then lowers her head (I swear, it almost looked like a slow motion nod from a sinister Bond villain). And then it happened: a quick flick of the wrist and a noodle goes flying in Karma's direction. Arianna's face immediately turns the opposite direction to appear as though she is not involved and Karma springs forward in a dive to catch the noodle before it hits the floor. Ever since the girls were born Karma's packed on a few pounds. This was the quickest and most nimble I've seen her in quite some time. For a second I was more impressed than I was upset. I scold them both and each looks at me innocently. Arianna as though it was all an accident and Karma as though she'd been trying to help me keep the house clean. No one here did anything on purpose. Bull! Dinner continues on, each of them returning to their previous positions. But I'm on high alert. I know they're working together, just waiting for another moment to strike. And then it comes. As Karma launches herself this time I quickly turn and yell "sit!" Ah the magic word of a well trained dog, she has no control. Her head may want to defy me but her butt is mine. ... um. ... that came out wrong. Anyway, her back side drops to the floor leaving her mouth a foot away from the noodle. I go for the one-two punch: "stay". Karma's eyes widen in horror. Not only has she been made to sit, she now must stay as well. ... and with a noodle only inches from her teeth. Arianna's face has now turned to panic as well. If Karma is out, who is going to eat her noodles now?! Excellent. Daddy has won this battle. Arianna finishes her dinner with out assistance, and Karma spends the rest of the meal forced to look at the noodle that got away. She may have tried to draw my daughter on to the dark side, but the Jedi master is stronger, and he remains in control. ... for the moment.

Award Season

While my dream of Oscar contention was given up in pursuit of the day job so I could afford to feed these little people that have consumed my life, it turns out I can still win prizes for just being a good dad. ... well a good dad with free time and a knack for writting. We joined the blog network Multiples and More a few months ago(you may have noticed our shiny badge to the right of this post, pretty swanky if I do say so myself) and now were in the running for a couple of their annual awards. Now I'm not the type to put pressure on my children to win. I was the guy whose dad was banned from all interschool athletic competitions for his in game anger management issues - and that was in a christian school league - so I'm not about to make it all about winning when it comes to my kids. ... but when it comes to me, I really want to freakin' win something! It's one thing to have friends and family constantly telling us we're doing a good job, but to have a bunch of strangers tell me they like how well I write about doing a good job. ... now that'll make you feel good about life. So if you find yourself with some extra free time after reading this amazing blog (I'm in a full swing award season promotional blitz now) go ahead and vote for us. Then maybe we can add another new shiny badge to our little blog about a dad stumbling through fatherhood. And I promise, I'll keep my acceptance speech short. ... ok short-ish.
Vote here for the Kopp Twins, nominated for Best Writing and Blog of the Year!