Skip to main content

Wild Child(s)

 If you're wondering why my house looks mostly like this:

I'll tell you.  It's because we have two two-year-olds who spend the hours between their nap and dinner trying to injure themselves and each other in constantly evolving and creative fashion.  There is no time for cleaning.  There is no time for looking away.  The boys have taken a backseat in the, "what's the quickest way to the ER" game and our  "twinsesses" have taken crazy to the next level.  I'm not sure if we are raising wild animals or little girls.  The jury is still out.  

Here is a little glimpse into our lives.  Today, I saved Carter from dysentery when she tried to drink water from a stagnant mud puddle.   Immediately after that, she tried to rip duct tape off a leach line pipe...with her teeth.  Also, I'm not sure if eating wood ash off the hearth or drinking bath water can cause illness, but we will be finding out.  I really don't know where we picked this girl up.

Emerson thought playing "dizzy spinner" with a fork in her mouth was a fun game.  Don't worry, I intervened before she pierced the back of her throat.  

This evening they attempted to climb our bookshelf at the same time.  They both managed to get on the second shelf before Ross walked in.  I'm not sure if they are heavy enough to tip it over, but he didn't wait to find that out.  

Carter learned why standing in a folding lawn chair is a bad idea. 

Emerson almost got hit by a can of beans thrown by her sister. 

They ran barefoot across broken glass (I'm not sure how they missed it all) and attempted to push through a screen door.  

Those were just the major incidents we ran into today.  This doesn't include the multiple tools I took away, the attempts to run out of my line of vision, the things they tripped over, holes they fell in, or the times they tried to climb the oven, table, stools, and counters.  

Aside from keeping them alive, I have a zero percent productivity rate when they are awake.  If we can survive this stage, I think we can survive anything with this crew.  Meeting grown twins always gives me hope.  It can happen.  

In the meantime, sorry to our boys who have to follow weird rules like never stand between mom and one of the girls.  And sorry to all of our friends we have neglected for the last twenty-six months.  We hope to see you  again in 2023!  

 

 

(It's a good thing they are cute.)

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pink Stinks

Our girls, like most four-year-old girls, love pink.  And purple.  And sparkly things, unicorns, butterflies, lizards and cats.  But especially pink.  Their brothers aren't so fond of pink.  They prefer the color dirt.  I know this because it's what they have chosen for the color of our walls, windows, light switches and their socks.   "Do you like pink?"  Emerson asked Fischer one day not long ago. "No." "Why?" "Because pink stinks !" Cue 'angry tears and screaming.' This of course delighted her brother who began using the line anytime he wanted to see her cry.  Which was often.  It didn't change her passion for the color, however.  She still demanded the pink plate, pink cup, pink shirt, pink shoes, and pink gum if she had the choice.  Because pink is the best when you're four.   Fast forward a couple of weeks.  The girls were collecting pieces of garbage off the van floor.  Why?  I don't know, b...
Post a Comment
Read more

Triple Threat

 People think we are raising twins, but they're wrong.  We actually have triplets: Emerson, Carter, and Carterror.  It's true.  Carterror doesn't hang around often, but when the days are long and naps have been missed, she comes out swinging.   Today, when we should have been napping, we ran errands.  We needed some grain for our cows, so before picking up the boys from school, we stopped at the feed store.  The girls spent a little time looking at all the fish, birds, and pets they have for sale.  Immediately, after telling them not to touch the tanks, Carter tried to go fishing.  That's when I realized Carterror had arrived.  I called her name to stop her and realized her shirt was exceptionally lumpy.   "What's in there?" I asked, pointing to her newly developed bosom.   "My kitty," she replied, pulling out a stuffed cat from her sweatshirt.  A minute later, we were walking down an isle of bovine parapher...
Post a Comment
Read more

Fear Factor

 Did you know that it has been not  scientifically proven that a baby can smell her mother's presence through a closed door.  It's probably the smell of fear that they are actually attuned to, but nonetheless.  I hold my breath and walk on tiptoe past the baby's room and still get busted nearly every time.  My fear is pungent. Besides waking the babies, I have another fear currently in the forefront of my mind.  Don't mind me, this is just another episode of True Confessions.. .  Here it is: the boys are getting so much outside time that they are building up incredible endurance.  It's great really, but it is   becoming  so hard to wear them out. It used to be an hour at the playground and we were golden.  Now, they basically put in an eight-hour workday, and it's just a warm-up!  Does anybody have a treadmill....?  Real school is going to be a bit of an adjustment for the big guy next fall.    Speaking of s...
4 comments
Read more