Dark and Stormy

It was the lime that made me cry.

This drink was made for me for the first time by Lila's godmother. It was made for me the second, third, and fourth time by her as well. The drink is called a Dark and Stormy and its recipe is simplicity itself: Ice, a few fingers of dark rum, a bottle of Jamaican-style ginger beer, and a wedge of lime. And, like I said, it was the lime that made me cry.

The twins were seven months old when the lime made me cry, so it wasn't really that big of a deal. Everything made me cry back then. I blame it on my wife's hormones. We were spending a week down the shore and the week was not going well. Lila's godmother had taken it upon herself to mitigate some of the psychic damage the twins were wreaking on us all by mixing Dark and Stormies each afternoon and distributing them willy-nilly until all hands were holding at least one, sometimes two or more. I was usually a "more."

It was something in the way she handled the lime that did it. She'd cut out a wedge, and then just leave the lime right there on the counter, like she was saying, "Don't worry, little lime. I'll be right back with you in a moment." It was just so... so casual. It brought home to me how there was nothing whatsoever casual about my life right then. I could no more be expected to get "right back" to that lime than I could be expected to solve world peace. Those were the days in which I used to eat my breakfast cereal dry, because adding milk meant I had to finish it before it got soggy. Milk gave the cereal a deadline that simply was not realistic. And even dry, some days that cereal bowl would still be sitting there, full, when my wife came home from work that evening. Those were hard, hard days.

So it was one night that week, one of many, that I was up with the twins,  strapping them into their carseats so at least the rest of our shore rental house would be spared their 3 AM infernal wailing, that I passed the lime on the counter. It had three or four wedges missing, but it was still there, waiting for the next round of drinks. And I lost it. I drove around Ocean City that night, back and forth on the deserted roads, with the twins in the back of the minivan slowly trading in their cries for sighs and sleep, and I bawled. I wished that someone would come and put me in the back of a minivan and drive me around. I wished that my only responsibility were going to sleep.

I wished I could cut a wedge out of a lime and promise it I'd be right back.

Comments

[You can call me, 'Sir']

Yep. That's some good writin' there.

[Catizhere]

Wow. I don't even like rum & I think I'm going to HAVE to try one of those Dark & Stormies.

You poor guy.

[Kel]

I never exactly know how to tell people how HARD twins was (is... mine are three on Sunday). Now, I'm just going to point them here.

Kel

[Beth Nixon]

Top of the line writing.
Thanks for sharing.

I've definitely been there . . . where the casual promise of a lime could make me cry.

[Fawn]

That was poetry, man.

Dang, we're having a hard enough time adjusting to this new thing with my daughter having epilepsy. And though I'm pregnant, I think I've got it easier.

Glad those days are over for you. But I *so* would've driven you around. ;)

[silvermine]

Oh, I only had one at a time, and I remember those days. When mine were little, I ate a lot of ice cream sandwiches. It's a lot of calories, so it can keep you going for a while. It has calcium and wheat and protein. It has carbs for quick energy, fat for energy that lasts. It's cold (which is great when the baby is hot and wants to nurse for 5 million hours and you're having hot flashes). It fits in your hand, requires no preparation, no plate, no forks to wash. It just is. It is the most perfect I-just-had-a-baby-and-life-is-insane food ever.

The glorious ice cream sandwich.

[MetroDad]

Man, your writing never ceases to amaze me. If I had a minivan, I'd drive you around. In exchange, I'd only ask for a couple of glasses of Dark & Stormy afterwards.

About time for us to organize that Shea outing. I'll put out some feelers next week.

[danielle-lee]

Being an adult can bring you to your knees, no? I would have cried too.
Great writing.

[Taado]

Ahhh . . . seven-month twins. I remember it like it was yesterday, which is ridiculous, because it was an excrutiating 5 months ago.

But I want to be sure I understand this correctly, The Dad, because I wouldn't accuse you of whining lightly. You got to go on a vacation, you had someone who not only made but actually served you mixed drinks, which you could drink with abandon because you weren't nursing, AND you knew a trick that made your babies stop crying? Really? I think I feel an accusation forming in the pit of my stomach . . . .

That's so sad... it sounds like you were completely alone... Where were The Mom and The Godmother during all of this? Had they had more "more" than you and were sleeping it off?

[Janet]

On a hard day like today as I sit crying at my computer, hoping the house and kids will just take care of themselves, I completely understand. And mine are 6, 6, 5, 3, and 3. Oh yeah...and the new one coming in October - maybe that's why I'm having such a hard time. Thanks for giving me something to cry about other than my perception of my oh-so-difficult life.

[heidi]

flesh out that story & send it in to the New York Times parenting column. Seriously. It's THAT good.

[Christy]

So you're saying it gets better? That was the thread of hope I was hanging onto while reading your post. I have irish twin boys born 10 months and 10 days apart, and there are days (like today) that I pray I will just make it through one more hour.

Thanks for reminding me The Dad that I am not alone!

[Elizabeth]

I don't have twins either -- 19 months between my two boys... But I remember being in Canada at a dog show (oh those extravagant days), and getting up with my younger son and going for a drive at something insane like 3 AM because he couldn't go back to sleep in this strange place... So we drove around, found a grocery store that was open, meandered around in there for a while, and drove home. he fell asleep on the way home and I slept in the car for a while after that... I remember people being so happy for me when I was pregnant... I remember people saying "Oh having kids is the greatest thing..." And it is, sure, but man-o-man, it's not for the faint of heart... And I sure feel faint some days.

[Trudie]

I checked my thesaurus to find another word instead of "awesome" since it feels a bit worn out these days - magnificent writing.
Oh, and if there is such a thing as a contest for best banner, you've won hands down :-D

[tripleblessings]

Wonderfully well written. Our triplets are 8 now, but you brought back the memories of those early days so clearly, just like snapping my fingers. There were many wonderful moments in that first year, but I was often overwhelmed and depressed, and simple glimpses of how normal people lived, and we used to live, reduced me to tears too. Life really did get a lot better, and it's great now! But that was a very rough stage, and I didn't know when I'd ever feel better.
Thank you.

[Marguerite]

Wonderful post, my twins will turn one in a couple of weeks and I am finding that it gets a little easier each day. When I look at my three year old though, I shudder to think of what life will be like 2 years from now!

[kkjayne]

You made me laugh and cry at the same time. I can so relate and I only have a 2.5 yo son and 7 months of pregnancy. It took me 5 trys to get a cuppa today and then in the end I skulled it cold on the way out to the car, just so I would get some liquid into me.

[Chickenpig]

It was a peanut butter sandwich that did me in, right around 6 weeks or so. It was the only thing I had eaten in about 8 hrs, I put it together because I was starving...and then had to abandon it to go upstairs where my husband and the twins were all having meltdowns together. I dashed downstairs to gobble it, and my *beeping* *beeping* dogs had eaten it. I just curled up into a ball and cried my eyes out. Having multiple infants is its own special hell...one that you have brought back OH so vividly...thanks. ;)

[rosie]

i was just commenting to my husband, as we walked around the park with our 2 1/2 year old twins, that i could never ever go back to the newborn/infant stage. i commented that it was hard 100% of the time. i was a special awfulness that no one without twins could ever understand.

(i still can't finish a bowl of cereal because someone always needs something.)

[George]

My first visit here. Dude, that is the best masthead ever. When a masthead makes me laugh out loud, you definitely have my attention. And I write humor. Great site!

[Brian]

MetroDad: I'll drive to Shea in my minivan. You can toodle me around the parking lot.

And anonymous commenter who wondered where The Mom and The Godmother were at 3 AM: The Mom was asleep, collecting her wits for the daytime shift which, if memory serves, started at 5 AM with a double nursing and a very energetic 4-year-old who did not yet understand that it needed to at least be light outside before she could rouse the troops to head to the beach. As for The Godmother, my money is that she had snuck off to get her tubes tied. We have that effect on people.

[annie]

Brilliant, wonderful, poetic. And a recipe, too! Thanks, Looky Daddy! You've just helped me make it through another day. I've actually been counting down the days to my own Offspring's 18th birthday... Luckily I now have a LOT of Dark and Stormies in my future to help me get there.

[Nicole]

A good remedy for my pity-party, back-to-work-with-infant doldrums if I ever saw one. I was bitching to myself today that I have to choose one "extra" thing to do each day because that's all I have time for--and by "extra" I mean flossing my teeth, putting on sunscreen, washing my hair or having a morning cup of coffee. Extravagant, wasteful extras.

Thanks for the perspective.

[Shawn]

Yeah. Yes. I know. God, I know. And your a dude. Imagine being the hormonal one with the sagging stomach. I could have filled drying lakes with the tears from that first 10 months.

We're in the thick of 2.5 and I sometimes waver on the edge ... is it as bad as back then? No. No. Nothing can be that hard. Nothing. Well, perhaps triplets.