Sometimes I really want to turn to my 8-month-old twins and say, “Hey, do you want to grab some sushi and catch the new Reese Witherspoon movie?” Because everyone knows that a disturbing film like “Black Swan” would be totally inappropriate for babies.
Lunch and a movie would be so much easier than trying to figure out what to do with them. They are so damn cute.
(Harlowe is the one on the right.)
I love to gaze at the twins, smother them with kisses and longingly wish my forehead was as wrinkle free as theirs but that does not fill up a whole day.
I try to pack their lives with adventure. Just yesterday afternoon, they did 20 minutes in the exersauser, then some tummy time on the rug, followed up by a few minutes in the jumperoo and then to keep things really unpredictable, we went upstairs to roll on their bedroom rug and teethe on board books.
I’m pretty sure when I left the room for a moment, Chase turned to Harlowe and said, “I am so sick of gnawing on these fake keys. Grab mom’s real ones and let’s hit the local pub.
Of course, I can only imagine that at some point they both realized neither of them actually has a driver’s license so they’d have to ditch their Babies Gone Wild plan.
Chase is practically crawling and already into everything. He navy seals himself across the playroom in minutes. In fact, here he is removing some child proofing foam.
And all the damn snow isn’t helping one bit. I can’t even get the double stroller two feet without smashing into a snowbank.
In the city, I would just strap on the Bjorn and walk for blocks but things are a little more complicated with two babies. I often feel trapped in my home. Like Friday afternoon, I spent 6 hours in the house trying to keep four kids content. Meanwhile, Rick who had a very early shift at work, was at a dance rehearsal.
Yes, that’s right. While I was getting spit up on and tending to the constant needs of children, he was doing the rumba or something. He’s practicing for a dance competition to raise money for his old high school. It’s kind of like Dancing with the Stars if by “stars” you mean, some guy you had Algebra class with in 1980-something.
But Rick, who is a born performer, loves it. And I love it because I love him.
And anyway, at home, we have our own dance competition called, Who Can Entertain the Twins the Most?
Dylan and Summer always win.
P.S. I’m now in Florida so I’m finding the snow much less troublesome down here. Mostly because there isn’t any. But Harlowe and Chase would still love your ideas on what to do all day.