We’re one month away from the girls turning 4 years old and we have to finally admit that they are not babies any longer.
My back, of course, has insisted upon this fact for quite awhile – our girls are quite hefty now and I can barely carry them. Unfortunately, the girls are quite put out at losing this particular service – they had gotten into the habit of demanding to be carried from room to room like little princesses – and heaven only knows how I even got suckered into doing that in the first place!
Halle gets up a couple of times each night to use the potty (howling loud as the hound of the Baskervilles as she does so), Zanna still sleeps like a little rock all night long – we’re at a loss as to how we’ll get her nighttime pottytrained.
Both the girls are becoming quite good at playing with babies – very gentle – and love to play with other children in the neighborhood.
And the girls are coming up with evermore creative ways of making their own fun.
This morning they pulled all the stuffing out of a sofa cushion, spread it ALL over the living room floor, then came and got me.
“LOOK!!” they exclaimed gleefully and proudly, “It SNOWED!!”
Actually, it feels more like –
Oy. Freakin’. Vey.
And last night, lest I celebrate too heartily that I FINALLY got them to eat mashed potatoes after a years long campaign, they then set about packing as much of the smashed spuds as they could onto their fingers and waving them gaily about, “Look Mama! ICE CREAM!!”
Thunk. Thunk. (Can you hear me thunking my head on the table over here?)
Oh well. At least it’s better than the mama with the kid who spreads excreted digestive by-product around.
Can you tell I’m a bit tired?
Must be all that noise keeping me up at night – Halle’s got the lung capacity and decibels of an air-raid siren as she caterwauls her way through the nightly potty trips.