I woke up this morning and the house was quiet. This is unusual. I walked out into the living room and saw this:

2I’ve been singing Lynnette’s praises ever since the twins were born but I’ve never quite been able to find a picture that would illustrate her insane clutchness until now because she begged me not to post the one with her double-breast feeding them. Well, I think this one might be better.

Both Cole and Avery are pretty well-behaved during the day; everyone who meets them remarks on how chill they seem. It’s true, but it also masks the real problem: whenever people are around, Cole and Avery are being held. At home, whenever Lynnette and I try to put them down, the either recognize the shift in their own equilibrium or wake up a few minute after being released onto their rockers, or crib. They can’t talk yet, but they have a sixth sense about when they’ve lost contact with another human. I guess that’s why I found them like this. A compromise of sorts. They’re lying down, but also touching a human. I can’t do this. I don’t have it in me. I never thought I’d say this, but I might have to shift “patience” ahead of “legs” on the list of Lynnette’s Amazing Qualities.

1Though not quite in the same league as Lynnette, Madison’s sleep patterns have gone to hell, too. This, of course, is by her own choice. She despises her 8 PM school-night bedtime so in her mind, the best thing about winter break is no bedtime at all. She’s been trying to maximize this lift in sleep restrictions, but it hasn’t worked out as she’s planned. I caught her watching Netflix like this two nights ago. We’ve been waking recently over the past few days (mostly because of the twins, but also because of events taking place) and she struggles to get out of bed. One morning a few days ago the twins were screaming and I carried one into Mad’s bedroom. “Madison. Get up. Sheesh (use the bathroom) and teeth (pretty self-explanatory),” I said. I raised my voice so as to make myself heard over the cries of the infant. Ten minutes later when Madison had washed herself, she made a beeline for me. “I don’t like the way you woke me up, dad,” she said. She a sort-of scowl on. “What do you mean?” I asked. “You just yelled at me. I thought you were mad at me at the first thing in the morning,” she said. “I’m not. The baby was crying. I wanted to make sure you heard me,” I said. “I still don’t like it,” she said. “What should I do next time?” I asked. ” Just say my name softly and shake me a little bit to wake me up,” she said. The thing is, though, I have tried this many times, and it doesn’t work. When I explained this to her she denied it. “No you didn’t!” she said. “I do,” I said. “How would you know? You’re still sleeping when I do it,” I said. She growled. “Just keep doing it until I get up!” she said and walked off. I’m not a morning person either, but dude.


Then there’s Abby. She’s the lightest sleeper of us all, but it’s kind of a trade off. Since she’s a dog and has no responsibilities, she can try for a nap whenever and wherever she wants – under the desk when I’m typing, in bed at night, on the couch during feedings – but the twins always wake her up. Sometimes Abby does this thing where she extends her front legs over her head and it looks like she’s trying to cover her ears. Last night she did the funniest thing I’ve ever seen her do. Lynnette woke me up to help her with an early morning feeding. Abby followed me out of the bedroom. One of the twins was already crying. I picked up the other one and he/she (I have no idea who is what at that point of the morning) starting wailing, too. Abby stopped dead in her tracks, turned, and sprinted back into the bedroom.


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