It seems that major milestones in education come in 4 year chunks - 4 years of high school, 4 years of college, 4 years of medical school, 4 years of a joint degree in law and whatever else, and 4 years of raising twins. Yes, I have just elevated child-rearing to the same category as medical school. You did, in fact, read that correctly. I decided that surviving the first four years of having twins is a commendable right of passage equal to that of any advanced degree. We've studied the books, we've tested each others' limits, and we've passed countless oral exams by doctors, in-laws and nosy ladies at coffee shops and grocery stores. I want a diploma.
So in honor of my twins up-coming fourth birthday, I've decided to celebrate my own achievements with a short list of...
Jobs I'm Now Qualified for After Raising Twins for Four Years.
1. Middle East Peace Negotiator: Evan and Maya have more in common with the Israelis and Palestinian than you might think. First, for most of their young lives they've been completely irrational actors driven solely my emotions and without the ability to look at any situation objectively. Second, they are prone to outbursts of violence. Though instead of suicide bombs or missiles, we deal mostly with hair-pulling and lego launches. Third, their stubborness knows no bounds. None. Dividing up Jerusalem can't be as challenging as divyying up a box of markers with only ONE orange. Crayons you can break in half. But, markers? You're dunzo.
2. Salesperson of any kind: Have you ever tried to convince a toddler to eat something or wear something or go somewhere when they don't want to? Now imagine trying to convince two very different toddlers to do the SAME thing at the same time that neither one of them wants to do. It takes unearthly powers of persuasion and persistence. I could totally sell cars.
3. Surrealist writer: Evan wants a story about dinosaurs. Maya wants a story about princesses and magic crystals. No, no...now Evan wants a story to about race cars. And Maya wants it also to be about mommy and daddy and grandma and going to school. No problem, folks. I got it in the bag. I can make up a bedtime story about any absurd combination of random people places and illogical events...and it WILL have a moral, goddammit. Go ahead. Test me. Let's see what you got, hot shot.
4. Short tempered order cook: Evan, what do you want for breakfast? NOTHING. No, you have to eat something. NOTHING. Fine, starve. See if I care. Okay, Maya, what do you want for breakfast? CHEESE. No, you can’t just have cheese. EGGS WIT’ CHEESE. Okay, scrambled eggs with cheese coming up. (proceed to make eggs, then serve eggs). NO I DON’T WANT THESE EGGS. What? I SAID I WANTED PANCAKES. Um, no you didn’t. I DON’T LIKE EGGS WITH CHEESE. You just f&*#ing asked for eggs with cheese. Eat the f&*#ing eggs with cheese. (storm out of kitchen in a huff).
5. Infantry Sniper: I would imagine there are few jobs in the world that require as much focus and concentration as a sniper. Imagine pointing a big gun and trying to aim and probably there is a war or whatnot and peple are screaming and shooting and there is blood and helicopters and maybe guts flying around. And still this guy (or gal) has to stay focused and precisely blow the head off of someone. Now imagine you're driving a car and you're also on a conference call with a client and there are two 3-year olds in the back and they want a book to read and someone dropped a toy and they want a snack and they are hitting each other and, oh shit, there are other cars on the road and maybe some motorcycles and still the kids are screaming and want pretzles or juice boxes and you're client is telling you something and you're trying to listen. And still you make it home alive. Sniper, schmiper.
6. Maid: 'nuf said.
