Our across-the-street neighbors rank as family among our friends. My husband is godfather to one of their children, the mom – my girlfriend – hosted my baby shower, and our households share a part-time nanny. The Super Bowl street party is always at their house, and the Halloween haunt is always at ours. We both moved into our sweet little homes during the spring of 2002, and our first wee ones were all born one lovely summer together, just months apart.

So when their grandmother knocked on my door this morning, toting a two-year old in one hand, a plastic bag with a cell phone & charger in the other, and quivering on the verge of tears, I dropped everything and grabbed the car keys.

The baby had been admitted to the hospital an hour before, and my girlfriend needed her work phone; amid the freaked-out panic of the morning, trying to manage a sick infant plus two other young children, she had understandably forgotten it. Of course there was no easy parking surrounding the hospital, and of course I got lost trying to find the room they were in. But I found them. And I ended up staying all day.

We took turns holding and cuddling the baby, attached to her teeny IV drip. We made sure we both ate. We wrote down the baby’s vitals, when she had a bottle and how much, when she peed and how much. We took turns making formula at the nurses’ station. We got fresh cups of coffee from the cafeteria. We both called our husbands and our families to make sure everyone else was okay too, and taken care of. Then slowly, over many hours, we watched the baby get better together.

It does take a village to raise a child. It takes a street full of neighbors and a town full of family and friends. It takes so much energy and stamina being a parent, it is simply not possible to manage sanely without the support of others. I feel this to my bones; I know this in my heart. You and me, the neighbors and our friends: we are all part of something special – this community we call parenthood, this community we call home.

…Evite.

Oh how I used to enjoy seeing them.  I’d respond or decline, depending on, you know – life. And then if I was interested, I’d follow along with the responses to see who was coming, who could make a witty remark and who was bringing the jello mold.

Now?  I just think about all the logistics involved in attending.  I still love the opportunity to get out and see friends (if not actually speak to them), but man, this twin toddler thing makes partying TOUGH!  And I don’t even mean real partying.  I mean going to someone’s backyard and eating a hot dog and perhaps drinking a beer or (GASP!) two.

Here’s a play-by-play of a recent bbq.

0:00 – Upon arrival scan yard for potential safety issues.

0:01 – Wonder why Matthew is bleeding from the face.

0:02 – Quickly determine they are too numerous to count.

0:03 – Retreat to “greenhouse” (aka former pot growing emporium).  Decide gravel floor pieces are probably small enough not to choke the babies.

0:07 – Realize I was wrong about the gravel size.

0:15 – Head out to the “yard” (aka set of Little Shop of Horrors).

0:16 – Activate the Zone Defense with Will to protect kids from Rose Tree of Death and other menacing flora.

0:30-45 – Defensive shuffling drills to act as human wall between babies and grill.

0:46 – Drink 3 sips of much needed beer.  Consider purchasing one of these to at least ensure adequate alcohol consumption.

0:52 – Spend 30 seconds wondering if friend REALLY left me in charge of his 10 month old child without a word.  Conclude:  Yes.  Roll Eyes.

1:10 – Pawn 10 month old off onto hostess to dash after Sarah. Narrowly avoid solving one of life’s great mysteries:  What actually happens when babies eat lead paint?

1:21 – Cavalierly stick thumb down Sass’ diaper for a quick check.  (Could also read: “Stupidly stick thumb into giant mass of blueberry poo.”)

1:26 – Realize that the travel wipes are all dry.  Curse loudly.

1:37 – CAKE!

1:51 – Start making a move to leave.

2:35 – Actually drive away.

So, that’s how I party, twin-style!  I didn’t used to be like this.  I figured I would be the relaxed mom, not worrying about what kind of trouble my kids get in.  I don’t know if it’s that we’ve got twins, or if it’s just the mom gene or what, but I’m kind of a jerk about safety.  I even annoy myself sometimes, but I can’t seem to help it.

Does anyone else find they have trouble attending parties these days?  On the car ride home, once we catch our collective breath, Will and I always wonder, “Why did we just do that? We’re still hungry and thirsty and we didn’t talk to anyone!”  It’s kind of a drag, really.  I want to be able to enjoy these things, and I know the time will come, but for now, I’m feeling a bit whiny about it, I must admit. Please tell me I’m not alone!

Well, Joe’s flight to Europe was probably one of the last to get there – the volcano in Iceland erupted Wednesday afternoon. Joe’s flight was delayed two hours at SFO while they decided what to do, then add extra fuel to fly to French airspace rather than going over the northern route. This added two hours to his flight time, which meant by the time he landed, he was already an hour late for his meeting! He was scheduled to leave Friday noon, but knew that wasn’t happening so changed to a flight for Saturday afternoon. All iffy and up in the air (literally).

As of his night time on Friday, there was no way to know if he is getting out on Saturday. His cohort Alexis waited in line at the airport for more than four hours and later on hold on phone for more than an hour (at which point his phone went dead) just trying to get a flight to Boston where he lives (flights to the east coast from Europe were at first not affected as they do not go over the globe, so to speak). Alexis’s flight is to leave at 1:00 German time, Joe’s flight is at 2:00. When they wake up (with hangovers no doubt because they did a pub crawl tonight), they will know if they get to come home. If not, here is the plan.

They will contact Travel and see if they can get a flight out of Rome, which is one of the only European airports still open. They will fly to where ever via where ever to get back to the States.

If that is not an option, I think that Joe will try to swim the Atlantic.

I can see some of you in the audience raising your hands, thinking, why don’t they just stay in Germany and wait for the next available flight? Good question – lots of problems.

There were 16,000 flights cancelled in Europe today (so I heard on the news). There are more than 100,000 travelers stranded all over the globe, and now planes and crews are all out of position for current and future flights. SAP alone had 250 employees affected by this, 50 staying at the same hotel with Joe. Five employees got out on the company jet to Rome today, and then flew commercial airline to Asia. They will be in the air for 35 hours before getting home.

Now, some of you are thinking “Poor Joe, how difficult.” But wait, what about ME? I am the one stuck home trying to entertain three active kids during spring break while my partner is off globe trotting, going to The Masters, Vancouver, Germany, and now probably Rome. That is a problem I WANT to have, not the same humdrum existence of laundry, dishes, meals, dog walks. What an adventure! Driving through Europe to Rome – wow, something that only college kids do, right?

Okay, if it we were doing it as a couple, it would be a lifetime story, but I know that Joe wants to get home to the kids and I certainly can use the second set of parental hands. Luckily for me (in case you were asking), my right hand go to lady is back from her awesome vacation to St. Thomas, so I will have help on the home front (thank God for Cheryl!!).

Will let you know if Joe’s home flight goes through the Bahamas – then I really won’t see him for another week!

Every where I turn in my house, I see something:  a pile of dirty clothes or dirty dishes, towels left on the floor, art projects and glitter scattered about the playroom (and the house), a two-foot stack of books desperately needing to go back to the library.  On my cluttered desk sit papers ready to file, photos ready to frame, cards waiting to be written, and the grocery list that went missing from last week.

As I look at these piles, these reminders of the chaos in my house, I realize they mirror the chaos I also feel in my head.  How am I going to pay for the occupational therapy my child needs?  Did I remember to flea-bath the cat this month?  Jeez Louise, new shoes already?  Did my mom call to see how I was doing?  Did I call her back?  Dang.  I really wanted to see that movie.  My husband and I haven’t been on a date in two months.  Oh, crap.  I double-booked a Thursday afternoon play date – again.

(Sigh.)

Okay.  I know this phase won’t last.  I know it’s not forever.  But what do I need to do now to manage my days and sleep better at night?  Breathe, for one.  Next, remember to eat.  Third, blow the glitter off the toilet seat, clean it up, and begin again.

If I slim down the extraneous stuff in the house, make room for blank spaces on the calendar, let some messes go and work on organizing others, then maybe my mind and my house will reveal some space I didn’t know I had.  Mini-pixie dolls with 17 pairs of plastic shoes?  Buh-bye.  Puzzles with missing pieces. Gone.  My husband’s voluminous collection of old T-shirts?  They make excellent rags.

That former colleague who wants to meet for lunch?  Sorry, I just can’t right now.  That new-fangled kids’ playgroup/art school/daycare everyone’s talking about?  I think we’ll just explore another park for the time being.  Mom needs to sit under the trees while the kids play, and let the sunshine and the promise of spring clear her head and restore her heart.  That’s what I need right now.

In the past, within my professional career, I’ve done two successful startups.  And it was hard – really hard.  But so is this.  Balancing our lives, and managing a family with multiples is really, really difficult at times.  It is.

So when I’m feeling scattered I try to stop, breathe, tune in to the club, take what I need, call a friend, and regroup.  Reflect.  Appreciate.  Share a joke with my husband.  Laugh with my kids.  Snuggle in bed.  Spin on the swings in the park.  Let go.

See?  Things are looking better already…