Please Do Not Leave Children Unattended

To go anywhere for me is a huge production. If I am trying to get Brylee dressed, then Brooke has run off and got into mischief...she is a magnet for turning on the water in our master bath tub. Once I get Brylee ready, go hunt down Brooke, and begin getting her dressed, Brylee has run off...her favorite place is Bayleigh's room. Finally, I manage to get both girls dressed, myself looking presentable, sippy cups, diapers, and wipes rounded up, and it is time to load the car. Bayleigh does her best to take care of herself, but there are occasional shoes to be tied, pants to be buttoned, and a reminder to use the restroom before we leave (and button the pants again.) I herd my girls like cattle to the garage door and try to make them sit down and wait for me to load one at a time. Of course, usually in the process of loading one of the twins, the other has run off somewhere in the house and has to be rounded up again. Finally, all the girls are in the car, seat belts on, and I have usually forgotten something that I have to run back in for...at least two times.

I am sure you can imagine how crazy it must be when I arrive at our destination. I do not go anywhere without my double-stroller, and usually, the girls are not allowed out of it for any reason. I feel guilty that I haven't been able to give them the experience of walking along side me, exploring, but whenever they get their freedom, all craziness breaks loose. Even with the stroller, trips to town are no easy event. A double-wide stroller, with double the toddlers, equals quadruple the opportunities to grab things off the shelves. I am the reason there are signs posted stating please do not leave children unattended

Being at home is much easier, but it doesn't go to say that we don't have our moments. We have the extra-tall gates, outlet covers, doors with locks, double doors that are tied shut, blinds raised all the way open, barricades around the TVs, and they still manage get into trouble. They climb over the barricades and kiss, drool, and press buttons on the TV, stand in the window sills of the raised blinds and bang the glass, pull-out the outlet covers, climb over the gates using any large toy as a step-stool and finally, manage to untie the rope around the double doors and get into their closet. But, when I walk in on a moment like this, I love my crazy life and wouldn't trade it for anything.

The girls enjoying their books after breaking into their closet.