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Monday, September 03, 2001

Ah, the perils of being a twin mom. You make sure to get a haircut just before they're born, figuring that things might get a bit hectic in the upcoming months. Then you discover that even tiny babies love to pull any hair they can find, which means that ponytails become mandatory headwear for a while. And so on and so on.

Then, well, say 14 months go by and you finally find a spare moment to get a snazzy new haircut -- that's what Labor Day is for, right?

So, what's the reaction when you get home? The grownups are all duly impressed, of course. But what about the kids? They're old enough now to not pull hair anymore, so you can actually get a real haircut, right? Sure, if you don't mind turning into a complete stranger to the two little darlings. Remember that at 14 months, stranger anxiety can be pretty strong.

So, you spend an hour with your own children intermittently bursting out in tears, cowering in fear, and refusing to come anywhere near you. Eventually, after a change of clothes, lots of kisses from adults who do recognize you, and putting that slick haircut -- you guessed it -- back up into a ponytail, do the kids start to treat you like their Mommy again?

Nope, not until you break out the Cheerios, too.
11:32:00 PM

Maya's new climbing buddy. In the last 24 hours, Bryn's figured out how to get up onto almost every one of her sister's favorite spots -- including the ladderback chairs in the dining room, an armchair in the family room, and even the end table. At this pace, if we'd let her get anywhere near the couch, she certainly would've popped up there as well.



Oh joy. We'd forgotten just how often you need to repeat the phrases "chairs are for sitting" and "on your bottom" at this stage.
11:19:00 PM

Sunday, September 02, 2001

Now that the kids have learned how to ask for backrubs (Bryn pats the back of her neck), we hear the following rhyme a lot more often:

Criss
Cross
Ap-ple-sauce
Spid-ers crawl-ing
up your ba-ack
Slight breeze
Tight squeeze

Accompanied, of course, by gales of delighted laughter.
3:52:00 PM

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