That's right. Red, hot, burning lava.
Just ask Logan.
Apparently the No Baby Down Club has been meeting quietly on the side and discussing additional items to add to their Charter. They seem to have agreed that being put down to eat in a high chair is evil and that it shouldn't happen any more and that food can only be eaten while wandering around the kitchen, dining room and living room. Lost juice cup? No worries! We'll find it again in a few days when it's fermented and finish it then. You want to make dinner/wash dishes/sit down to eat? Not without a baby in your lap!
Whaaaat? This is a New World Order! There's a new President in the White House! Anything could happen!
Crack! goes Logan's head as it hits the tile floor!
Emma, on the other hand, has been busy figuring out key skills like how to go down stairs, how to climb onto my bed and the sofa, and climb on and off the wheeled horse and rocking tiger.
"Ehn! Ehn! Ehn!" comes the cry from the bedroom. Where's Emma? There she is! Stuck on a wire shelf.
You can't turn your back on the two of them for a moment or they'll shoot up the stairs and get into everything. Cat food dishes? Check! Water dish? Check! Clean/dirty laundry? Double check! Dresser drawers? Check! Toilets? Denied! Mom and Dad keep shutting the doors to the bathrooms. Dang it!
Today, Eric and I were sitting in the kitchen when the phone rang with one of its special rings. One is for Misty and another for Eric. Since Eric was sitting right next to me, clearly the ring must have been Misty. Eric answered with "Hello?" and paused. "Hello? Hello?" Giggling came from the phone.
And from upstairs.
Turns out they had grabbed Eric's cell phone, managed to dial the last number he'd called and reached our home number. Little monkeys!
Have I mentioned how much they like telephones and anything that has buttons that go beep? Yeah, they sure do!
On the food front, they seem to have decided that everyone on my plate tastes better, even if it's exactly the same thing they're eating. They now want to both sit in my lap and be fed my dinner. In order to get them to bed without making my ears bleed, I've just been feeding them that way. Then, Eric and I have dinner after they're down for the night with a lot less screaming. We do still have Caitlin to ride herd on, so it's not as relaxing as it might otherwise be (Please use your napkin. Take smaller bites. Use your knife. Sit down and eat your dinner. Please drink your milk/water. You need to eat your dinner. You're running out of time! Tomorrow is a school day and you need to go to bed in 10 minutes. Eat. Your. Dinner. You want dessert? Eat your dinner, now!).
Uh, but that doesn't happen at your house, does it?
The twins are finally, really, sleeping through the night. As in, I put them to bed at 6-6:30 pm (That extra half hour gets ugly.) and they don't get up again until either 5:30 or 7 am. They wake up soaking wet in the morning, but they stay asleep at night. Except for when they don't, of course. Two nights ago, they woke up and started laughing at each other, then fell back asleep. What's so funny at 1 am? Sometimes we hear Logan thumping his crib against the wall in his sleep(Squeek-ah! Squeek-ah! Squeek-ah! Go the wheels. Thump! Thump! Thump! Goes the crib.), but he doesn't wake up.
They have a lot of fun playing together, but we've discovered what every twin parent discovers the hard way - if there's only one of a special toy, there's gonna be a fight. Everybody wants the horse at the same time, but only the strongest
If you don't want to listen to screaming, make sure you know when both baby phones are. Why does that book suddenly look so good to both babies when neither of them wanted it 10 seconds ago?
Another mystery is this: what's so fun about pounding your head against the wall?
Logan likes to bang his head against the floor/wall/door/window and then turn to me and laugh. Then Emma tries it. Yesterday, she decided to bang her head against...Logan's.
Now that was fun.