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2/17/1999 Brain Fog7:50 a.m. The kids are watching Sesame Street and getting dressed. Elmo is talking to an infant. "Ewww, a baby!" says Matthew who has suddenly developed an antipathy towards babies. "You were a baby once," says Daniel. "No, I wasn't!" "Yes, you were. When you came out of Mama's tummy, you were a baby. So was Stephen. Mama and Daddy used to be babies, too." Matthew shook his head, remaining unconvinced. 4:15 p.m. I took the twins to story time at the library again. This time they consented to sit on the carpet mats as long as I sat with them. There was another set of twin boys there. Their mother asked how old mine were. I told her they were three and asked how old hers were. She answered, "27 months." I had to stop and calculate that out to "two." I dunno, it seems to me that once a kid hits his second birthday you should stop counting his age in months. She probably used to say her twins were 17 weeks old when she could have said they were four months. I've been exhausted all day. I feel like I am trying to move under water. Maybe it is the late night on Monday catching up with me a day later. Despite the fact that I have another book to start for the Press, I decided to take a nap while the twins slept. We all fell asleep around 1:30, and I slept until 3:15. This is one of the drawbacks of being self-employed: I end up feeling guilty for wasting two hours sleeping when I should have been working. Driving home after picking up Tab: "Poopy, poopy," Matthew sings. "Daniel is poopy." "I am not! Mama, Matthew said `poopy'!" My head aches. I don't want to be the referee any more. I close my eyes and lean my head against the headrest. I say nothing. "Bad Matthew!" "I not bad! Mama, Daniel say I bad!" "Bad, bad Matthew." "Mama!"
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