Captain’s Log, May 26th, 2019. We are rapidly approaching the twins’ 6 month birthday. Part of me can’t believe they are already this old, and the other part of me feels like this past six months have drudged on for 6 years and I’ve done nothing but feed babies hunched over on the living room floor since the beginning of time.
I can’t trust Indie to stay put anywhere for two seconds. She has transitioned to a crib this week where I have had to let her cry it out approximately three times for no more ten minutes each time. She has the bluest eyes and the tiniest little mouth, and she is constantly sticking her tongue out. Lucy is absolutely drawn to her and kisses her often, and as tenderly as any two year old can. She calls her “Dee-Dee” and it’s so adorable that I actually die every time she says it.
Duncan is a lot more laid back–still not rolling over at all whatsoever but instead preferring to kick back and chill and watch as Indie scoots across the room. He smiles–oh Lord does he smile–the whole bottom half of his face opens up; it is the biggest smile the north has ever seen. He feels so much heavier than his sister even though they take in the exact amount of food. He is still in his cradle until we can get some things moved out of their room so we have space to assemble his crib.
Other stuff that goes on:
I’m over ball season. Like, super over it. Even though this guy is precious:
Sometimes there are tornadoes that I don’t know about until a random person texts me and says my random kid is safe in a shelter at their random sleepover.
We have a mature mulberry tree in our front yard five feet away from our house that I somehow just discovered. For the past week, Merrick and Arbor have been picking berries the hard way, and then Friday we kicked things up a notch with tarps. Shaking mulberry trees in entertaining and delicious and y’all we just can’t not gobble them by the handfuls.
THEM: “Toni, stop eating mulberries!”
My house is a wreck. My kids never sleep (well, never all of them at once anyway.) It’s summer.
My Redbone coonhound keeps trying to get knocked up by my other doggy and I spend a considerable amount of time keep them from having sex in front my kids and God’s own face. Noah is some sort of hound-mix so I’m putting the word out just in case this handsome couple does sneak away and conceive despite my careful family planning. Hit me up if you want their puppies; their children would be glorious btw: