I'm a bad blogger

I was pumped about it, and then I hit a lull. Then the lull became writer's block, and subsequently a writer's anchor. I upgraded that to a guilt spiral, then an embarrassing... uh... other thing.

Anyhow, it's been weeks since I relayed the trials and tribulations that make up the bulk of my existence. The girls have developed a lot in the last month's span. I guess you should do some maturing anytime you become 25% older. They're full babies now. They do things like smile, babble, and make faces when they poop. They're doing other things though, that make the process feel like it's getting better. They can sit up almost on their own. They're ovbiously scheming. I can see it.

Also, their insistent hunger has shifted to a ravenous anger at the lack of food. It's pretty counter intuitive. I mean seriously, if you were sitting at dinner and the Azteca staff was taking forever with your Chicken Fundido, would you protest by screaming your damn head off?




If I wanted to be judged, I would have gone to Red Lobster.




No. You would cluck disapprovingly and say a little too loud;y, "I wonder if something is wrong in the kitchen, our food seems to be slow; and my iced tea is empty again."

But their solution is to scream to the point of exhaustion and write sarcastic reviews on Yelp about our parental skills.

I've been trying to get it on camera, but because I'm clumsy and slow to react you're going to have to live with the internet meme version. Baby A does this all the friggin time.





Vomit in 5...4...3...2....blarg! Just in time to miss the towel and hit the dog.





Another interesting fact: The dogs don't mind being vomited upon. Not sure how to capitalize, but there has to be a way to turn that into a facebook game or something.

The Mrs. is back and work and she loves being away from the girls. Not really. She wants to be a stay at home mom, despite spending the first 8 years of our relationship denying that she would ever have the desire to not work. As a result, most of her income is going to be devoted to scratch tickets. It's a valid investment strategy. What? I feel like I'm at a goddamn Red Lobster, what with all the judging and what not.

...And Regression.

So, just when I think we had this thing down, and the universe was going to let us sleep. Mother nature tossed us a whopping mushroom stamp. The girls have again decided that waking up semihourly is a great idea. The articles I've read say it might be because they move in their sleep and wake themselves up, or it could be a developing social awareness, driving them to desire cuddle time.

I tend to think they're just messing with us. I don't want to set up an adversarial relationship where Abby and I are a coalition against The Twin Federation, but that's how it seems; at 3:42 AM, when you were up at 1:27 and will be again at 4:44. It's an endeavor of loving attrition. We're doing our best to hold the lines, and sleep in the foxhole between marching and fighting. But they are growing in power, size and force of personality.

Fun note: Julia has learned a new cry. It combines all the best aspects of a scream, a dog whistle and a squeaky toy.





Like this but instead of cow, it's full of rage.






Harper figured out she can save her poop up for about 4 days before the dams burst. At which point, the evil flowing from her rear was described as "looking like peeling open a peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

Also, Julia had something going on called "Baby Neck Cheese." I shit you not. It's a real thing, and I guess it's common. We also thought everyone had worms, but it was just a weird poop.