He Did What?

I have recently realized (though I have no idea why it took me so long) that my Twinkies talk non stop.  They are just little chatterboxes.

I could almost write a Dr. Seuss type book with their antics…something along the lines of “here, there and everywhere” would be involved because it doesn’t matter where we are going (or not going as the case may be) or what we are doing (again..or not doing) they will always have something to say about it.

I’m not sure exactly when they decided they know more than any of the rest of their family members…all of whom are older than them, but they are positive that they do.  Preschoolers that are unequivocally smarter than the rest of the world are a force to be reckoned with…or feared…or both.

This is the position I find myself in daily.  What crazy scheme will they try today?  Will they have a story to tell or someone to tell off?  Can I possibly keep up?

I have never questioned God’s sense of humor in blessing us with these two adorable little creatures, but that doesn’t mean that I always get it.  None of my other children were capable of getting ahead of me more quickly than these two.

And when there are two of them ahead of you, you are in trouble.

But I digress…

I talk a lot about their funny little sayings and their conversations.  Honestly though that is just a small portion of the interesting life with my twins.  There’s always the climbing of walls, seeing how quickly we can take something apart (or away from a brother) and the ever present search for anything artsy we aren’t supposed to touch without mom being right there to supervise.

These items include, but are not limited to: scissors, tape, crayons, markers, pencils, erasers, etc.

We recently had what I currently refer to as “the incident” with scissors.  Yes, the timeless tradition of cutting one’s hair was exacted by our loveable Bugs a little over a week ago.  Unlike most other children who participate in this ritual of preschoolerdom, my son decided to cut a perfect line, at scalp level, straight up the middle of his head instead of across the front.

He ended up with some sort of odd looking reverse mohawk…nothing short of hideous.  It took me far too long though to work up the nerve to whack it all off.  But I did and he is now a tough little soldier…still with a little baldish streak up the middle of his head lol.

Now the only thing left to do is take a picture and scrapbook it for posterity.  Because there is no way I’m letting him forget it when his son decides to do the same thing!  This is one of the beautiful things in parenting…I think I need to remember it more often!