Well, I just got Jon, Caden and Logan all down for an afternoon nap. All are sleeping under protest.
The muppets are beginning to have more awake time. This translates to more awake time for Mom and Dad as well. And in two short weeks, Dad will be running the house on his own during the workweek. So after a long night followed by an early morning doctor appointment, Jon was ordered back to bed. Caden and Logan decided that they weren’t terribly interested in sleep. But, lucky for me, they were willing to compromise – they would doze as long as they were being held.
It is becoming very clear that Logan will be the little boy who wants to crawl into bed with us on lazy mornings. His favorite thing in the world is to cuddle up against our chest. And my baby boys will be not-so-little boys in a hurry.
Both boys are continuing to grow up big and strong. Logan has become so stout that it is tremendously difficult to burp him during/after his increasingly larger meals. Unfortunately, this means we have entered the world of projectile vomit. And “projectile” is in no way an understatement. That kid gets distance!
Yesterday evening, I ventured to the grocery store to fill our empty cupboards. (Since my last foray out of the house went so well…) When I returned home, the house was quiet. “I don’t hear crying babies,” I called out. Jon replied that there was no time for screaming since he had distracted two hungry boys with food.
I walked into the living room and my ingenious husband, aka Super Dad, had improvised. I guess necessity is the mother of invention. And it appears twins are the brothers of necessity.
I picked up Logan when he was done scarfing.
With more room in his tummy, he obviously felt better for a short while – likely for the duration of the trip up the stairs to the nursery. Logan does not like costume changes. He screamed bloody murder, exhausting himself so much that as soon as I picked him up again the two of us had to leap backwards to avoid the Exorcist-level spit-up launching itself clear across the rug onto the hardwood floor. Only then did he look up at me with a level of content. “See Mom, there’s no need to change my clothes.”
In other times of alertness, we’ve been working on tummy time. Jon works with them during periods of alertness when they are willing to push themselves – instead of giving up and immediately going to sleep. Although their corrected age is still negative one week, I don’t think it will be to long before my growing boys can roll over. Both are making huge strides on their play-mat – albeit with very different tactics.
Logan, aka Pudge, attempts to use his greatest strengths (literally) to his advantage. He arches his back, kicking his legs up behind him and lifts his head. This leaves him balanced on his ginourmous tummy, where he teeters back and forth. Caden, still lacking a nickname, can now successfully turn his head from side to side without smooshing his face into the floor. He has also managed to tuck one leg under him as he tries to crawl in vain. He’ll push and push with his little legs, knowing he’s trying to get somewhere but unsure why he’s not going anywhere yet.
In the immortal words of Dr. Suess, “Oh the places they’ll go.”