To be honest, after Sarah, Liam AND Mojo each had multiple crying spells throughout the night I wasn't sure how (or if!) we were going to cross the finish line. Combine that with both babies waking up CRANKY and in need of changing/feeding/cuddles at precisely the same time this morning....while Mojo was throwing up all over the house....and all bets were off.
But because of a joyful reunion with my coffee pot after 9 long months (welcome home!) things were a little less bleak. We went for a walk. We discovered that odd little Zaboomafoo creature on TV. We hauled out the crayons and other so-called quiet toys. (Turns out Liam can make anything loud.) And by late afternoon I turned a blind eye while he dribbled water from a sippy cup onto the kitchen floor. Lots of it. Let's just say there was splashing. But compared to the rest of the day this was considered silence. Sneaky silence. But silence nonetheless.
Eventually the little hand touched the 8 and the big hand touched the 12. Bedtime. Ahhhhh........
If only they'd do this simultaneously from time to time:
My little Picasso:
If he could, I'm sure he'd be saying "Mom, I'm booooored":
Talking to Dad:
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