The terrible two’s are over. Can I get that as a contract signed in blood, please?
My little guys are too heavy to carry at the same time anymore, and if I potty trained them, I could leave them at the gym for 3 hours every day. Why haven’t I done that by now? A few reasons.
1) Potty training with Fluffy was a horrible, horrible experience, and I dread it. 2) Diapering the boys 2-3 times a day is just so much more convenient than always being on the hunt for a public restroom. 3) Both of them are addicted to their sleepsacks as wearable wubbies and want to keep them on all day. I would basically have to burn their security blankets to start potty training in earnest. 4) They are my babies. As difficult as their infancy has been and as far as I am from fully recovered, the thought that I will never have another baby in diapers again is really heart-rending. This is the last case of Pampers? Sniff.
I complained endlessly about nursing, and then was deeply sad when we finally stopped. Same thing with diapers. Not that I really love changing diapers so much. I do not. But I love my babies. My little, bittle babies.
We had a great time with some of our favorite family friends celebrating the boys’ birthday over the weekend.
The strawberry fields were all picked out by 2pm, but we had a nice picnic by the community lake. (Those in attendance know this is the incredibly white-washed version of events.)
Jenny took more and better pictures which I will post on a day when I can get the album to load. Meanwhile, here is Peppers failing at a pinwheel straw:
And Destruculus plotting his next evil scheme. “Hey! I said the terrible two’s are over. OVER!”