The Tower Of Babble-on

Mirabelle's been running around the house babbling--constantly.  Her latest two syllable combo is 'dickle, dickle, dickle.'  It's not a real word (unless you consult the Urban Dictionary).

Today, she took her shoes and socks off in the car (surprise, for the 80th time).  When I threatened to tickle her feet if she pulled her shoeless stunt again, she looked at me, smiled and said 'dickle, dickle, dickle.'

Folks, I do believe we have a new favorite word for Lady Belle:

TICKLE, TICKLE, TICKLE!!!!!

The Brunch Bunch

My folks were finally able to break free from all their 'other' obligations (i.e. my wimpy sister) and spend a much over due weekend with the grandpups.  It's been almost three months since they last saw the twins (which is the equivalent of dog years at this stage in an infant's life).  Finn & Belle were in AARP heaven!

On Sunday, we took the folks to our favorite downtown brunch spot:  The Dixie Grill (it's so good, they don't even need a website).  The wait was a bit ridiculous, but the food was worth it.

Here's some photos of our adventure:

Outside waiting for our table.  

We had our own private jazz duo, the babies were intrigued.  

A perfect distraction before the food arrived.

911, We Have A Jumper

I always said we'd convert to toddler beds once the babies started climbing out of their cribs.  I'm not sure I ever said I'd be willing to do it at 15 months . . .

This evening, during story time, Finn started to climb into his bed (very proud moment).  So I picked him up and put him inside, then continued to read to Mirabelle.  Apparently, Finn changed his mind and decided to climb--nay fall, out of his crib.

My back was turned (silly me for assuming those three foot bars encasing his crib were some sort of safety device rather than mere decorative accents).   He landed on his back with a thud, stared up at me for approximately three seconds (I counted), then began crying either out of shock, or mild pain, or simply because it seemed appropriate.  Luckily, he was fine.

I will say an evening prayer before I go to bed tonight (I'm very bad about the consistency of these . . . but if God is all knowing, than it should go without saying, I'm a big fan).  I will ask for just a little more time (three more years should be plenty) before we convert to toddler beds.

I guess I always assumed (insert snickers) once the babies learned how to climb out of their cribs, they would be old enough to handle toddler beds.  But Mr. Ready-For-The-Nearest-ER has begun testing the limits of this theory before he's even bothered dabbling in the spoken word.

For the moment, we're going to play the Denial Card and see if he attempts this maneuver again any time soon (what are they teaching kids in preschool these days?).  Our other option is to move to the toddler bed and deal with endless nights of The Where Did Finn Go Game.  Or, we could invest in this absurd, albeit wildly useful, contraption called a crib tent.  Frankly, I'm just not sure how we humans managed to survive before such inventions as the crib tent, the pee-pee teepee, or the Zaky.

Killer Teeth

Mirabelle cut her first two molars last week.  A while back, my sister suggested giving her frozen blueberries to help ease the pain of teething (Aunt G and her infinite wisdom strikes again!).  The blueberries were a huge success and currently in heavy rotation at breakfast.

Clearly there's just too much vampire nonsense in pop culture right now, 

because this photo kind of creeps me out . . . 

Stealing Finn's blueberries . . . 

Making Memory Lane Look Fabulous

Over the past year, the twins have done a series of professional photos with photographer phenom, Katie Matthews.  Because babies change so much in the first year, I wanted to capture the twins forever professionally (to later build a shrine to Finn & Belle . . . and decorate it accordingly).

So, we've done a total of five sessions documenting newborn, 3-months, 6-months, 9-months and 1 year old.  Earlier this week, we finally completed the '1 year old' session.  I was waiting till Belle could walk and then begged sweet Katie for a spot in her calendar.

She's done it again!  Here's a sneak peek at the babies.  For this session, we decided to photograph them at the house playing in their 'natural habitat', just to make sure we got some really good smiles from Lady Belle.  Our plan worked!  Take a look:

Yup, that's right, Katie actually managed to capture a super sweet 

Mirabelle smile AND big red bow in her hair, at the same time.

There's that winning Finnalicious smile!

The big red tent is their current favorite play spot.  The head dive straight into it

and wrestle with each other, laughing, all the time.

If you stay long enough in our house, you'll quickly learn that Mirabelle is into 

some serious book reading right now.  Her favorite thing to do is flip through books 

and have Mommy (or anyone, but Finn) read to her.

Playing at our favorite neighborhood park.

Hands off, Ladies!  He's mine!!

We love tunnels in this family!

Real Men Wear Bows

To most casual observers, Mirabelle's hair probably hasn't grown all that much.  However, as someone who's spent a ridiculous amount of time watching this hair (willing it even, to grow) I'm happy to report it's ready for the first tier of accessories . . . a hair clip (pigtails, while not impossible, would be extremely ambitious).

Operation Pretty Red Bow started at 1100 hours.  First attempt was successful, until target realized assault was in full progress.  Target removed bow at 1101 hours, studied it carefully, tried to place it unsuccessfully back on head.  At 1105 hours, second attempt failed as target had full cognition of operation's intent.  Three additional attempts followed, all resulting in failure.  Finally, at 1120 hours, with a few minor modifications, mission accomplished!

For the record, Finn requested I put the bow in his hair.  In fact, he brought the bow to me the last time Lady Belle discarded it.  Who am I to judge?  I'm just happy I finally got to put a pretty bow in one of my babies' hair!

So . . . . . Daddy wasn't too amused with Finn's new look when he got home.  I repeat, Mommy's just happy she finally got to put a pretty bow in one of her babies' hair!  

Happy Grandparent's Day!

Finn's First Haircut

I'm a sucker for the shaggy hair look on boys, especially when there is a bit of natural curl.  Unfortunately, Finn's baby hair just wasn't curling the way I expected and his 'shaggy beach bum' look was increasingly becoming a Donald Trump-a-like comb over.

So, we took him to get his very first haircut on Monday, for the most part he was a superstar.  Our original plan included taking him to Ribbet, a salon designed specifically for children; however, it being Labor Day the owners apparently decided to take the day off and spend it at the beach with approximately 25,000 other like-minded locals (Costcos and Learning Express were also closed on Labor Day . . . clearly a very important shopping day for every other city in the US but mine).

Luckily my one true safe haven, the mall, was up and running on Labor Day.  We picked the first available walk-in salon with the most randomly tattooed stylist to do the honors.  Finn got a little spooked at first when we put him in the chair, but he quickly calmed down and was a super champ through most of the experience (we sang a lot of Twinkle, Twinkle and B.I.N.G.O.).

A special thanks to Lady Belle for sitting patiently the entire time and entertaining herself quietly.

A little unsure about what's going on.

Our stylist was actually really good with Finn, 

she was patient and offered him a lot of fun distracting stuff to play with.

Just give her some shoes and socks and she'll be entertained for hours.

The Shagmuffin Before 

And the real big boy afterwards.

You Know What I'm Talking About

Anyone who's had children should remember the 'learning to eat like a civilized being' phase of child rearing.  This phase sucks; and quite frankly, I'm trying my best to avoid it.  There is no joy in cleaning a kitchen three times a day.  Nor is there comfort in constantly throwing away leftover food bits that could, over time, feed a small Third World nation.

So, my new strategy involves lunchtime picnics.  Some days we head to the park for lunch and others we sit out on the front porch.  At the moment, it's a win/win situation for everyone.  I'm providing a stimulating environment for the babies to enjoy, they're providing sustenance to the local ecosystem, and I'm not responsible for cleaning a single crumb or spill.