Things are starting to change.
Gone are the days where I was able to leave the babies on the floor, content to lay there and stare at the intricacies of their hands. They are curious now. They are reaching for things (read: everything). They are moving. I like to call this particular phase “ooo, shiny!”
This morning my alarm clocks went off at 5am, two hours earlier than normal. In what I can only guess was some kind of initiation into what lay ahead, I begrudgingly got out of bed to take on the roll of “baby feeder and entertainer”, also known as mom. I figured, at least, that I’d get my workout in if I was forced to be out of bed this early.
I got Miles out of bed and placed him on the floor while I left the room briefly for I don’t even remember what, but by the time I got back, he had found a partially eaten cheerio on the floor and decided to finish consuming it. I sighed, but was relieved it was at least edible. Working out wasn’t so bad, but they began to lose their patience with the toys on the floor near the end so I resorted to tickles while attempting stretches and crunches. After that I took them downstairs and this is where the fun really began. I put both down in front of a toy and went downstairs (our house has 3 floors) to make coffee and grab my super healthy Pop Tart breakfast (Bryan was in the room, in case you were wondering).
When I got back upstairs, Miles had discovered an “ooo shiny!” and was chewing on it. I fished the wrapper out of his mouth, shook my head and sighed. He can’t even get anywhere quickly yet and already we are contending with discovery of the mysterious object that found its way into his mouth. Anyway, I sit both babies on the floor and start breaking of the crust of the pop tart to share, because sometime in the last few weeks I was no longer able to eat anything without sharing it (a topic for another post I plan to share soon). I placed my coffee mug out of reach, because you know, I’m no idiot and watch as both babies stuff themselves with their part of my breakfast. Once it’s gone Miles is content to play for a bit and I discover an uneaten piece, so I place my coffee cup down (because, as it turns out, I AM an idiot) and proceed to grab it to feed to Abby.
In .5 (read: point 5, not 5) seconds she has a hold of my mug and tips it over, spilling some of the contents on the floor. Naturally, the carpet spray is downstairs (because why would it be upstairs where I need it?) so I fetch it and begin to sop the spot up with a washcloth. Before I spray it I move her a couple feet away explaining (like she knows) that I have to move her so she doesn’t get into the cleaner and here is what happens when I put her down:
Me: Miss Abby, I’m moving you so you don’t, like, get POISONED!!!!
Couple that with the fact that I realized this morning that I only plucked one eyebrow yesterday, and I think its time to officially say: lets get this party started.