Two

I love mornings. In fact, I think I am an early riser by nature, but busy-body-osity prevents that from happening most days because nighttime happens. It seems that the witching hours are the exact point that I realize that I have 90 billion things I forgot to do during the day while I was watching Arrested Development.

This morning, however, I made it a point to get up in the wee(eeeeeeeeee) hours of the morning and hit an early bird class at the gym, putting my wake-up time in the 4:00 am range. You see, when you get up that early in the morning, you are rewarded with one of destiny's greatest gifts:  two breakfasts. No one can go from 4 am until noon with only one sensible bowl of cereal (and if you think you can, then I bid you good day, sir!), so it's science.

And you can't argue with science.

Two breakfasts. Two meals. Two chances to screw up my metabolism. What fun! I'd like to point out that all great things come in twos. For instance:

• The Odd Couple
• (Veggie) Bacon and Eggs
• Gin and Tonic
• Rita and Runt
• Everyone who survived the Great Flood
• Habibi and Anouchka
• Peanut Butter and Jelly
• Jim and Pam
• The Olsen Twins

OK, that last one was a bit of a stretch, but you catch my drift. But it seems that more than our favorite duos are coming in twos (duh...the definition of a duo) these days. What do I mean by that? I mean that all of my friends are having their second -not first- babies. (I feel I must add that several overachievers among my friends are on numbers three and four, even!!!)

Now, I do not happen to see it as a character flaw that I have no earthly desire to become pregnant now, or in the near future. Of course it's all in God's hands, but stretch marks, Blue's Clues, and the screaming baby next door are not exactly my idea of a good time. I know, I know, "it's different when it's yours," "all the good outweighs the bad," blah blah blah...but I'm convinced that we can have the same loving, parental bond with an independent and well-adjusted college graduate who joins us for the holidays.

Before you judge me as a terrible (albeit hypothetical) mother, may I remind you that I am a beacon of motherly love and tenderness? Let us not forget the veritable Cain and Abel living under my roof. You have already met Betty (our resident G.O.B. Bluth):

Allow me to present our second “child” (who just so happens to be our oldest):

This is Alice (our resident Buster Bluth). Her hobbies include chasing feathers, being oblivious, hissing at Betty, hiding under the bed until the opportune moment arises to fly out from the bed skirt and startle any passersby (a star pupil at The Milford Academy), sleeping, and acting “special.” She is also a skilled finger biter (but it's OK because she is missing teeth so it doesn't hurt).

Attacking from under the bed

Pretending not to be interested in the thing which most torments her dreams:  the feather on the the fishing pole

Alice and Betty are not best friends (yet), so some might say that my mediation between the two of them makes me a better mother than most. Take THAT, Super Nanny.

Two breakfasts. Two cats. (Good thing I'm already married.)  Two times as jealous of me as you were before you started reading this post, right?

Not everyone can have it all.

I'll knit you a cat hair sweater as a consolation prize...just as soon as I finish my third breakfast.