If we are to give a true list of grievances, it has to include the recent clingy phase we have entered. Both kids annoyingly hang to our legs like a pair of pants that were dried without fabric softener. If only one of us is home, the twins team up on us, synchronizing their cries, spills and poops. Micah has begun to use anything he can get his hands on to stand up - in the past twenty-four hours he has pulled up using my ear, our TV stand, and everything else below four feet in our entire house. That leads into the next troubling development - the twins ability to stand up in bed to protest their assignment to nap time. Last week, Rachel had to go into their room to lay Micah down 18 times to finally get him to go to sleep, because every time she left the room he stood up in his crib and began yelling at the top of his lungs (OK, I admit, that makes me laugh). Malorie learned how to stand up in the crib today too. Yikes.
Our little darling girl is also one dirty fighter. She bites, pinches, and smacks anything that she gets near. I nearly lost a finger the other day, and Micah is always black and blue, but I still feel most sorry for poor Tyson, whose tail simply can not be hidden from Mal's grip. The twins also have developed separation anxiety and will not eat from anyone but Rachel or me without crying until they turn purple. They constantly fuss at church, usually during the quiet, reflective moments. And I'm pretty sure they already know exactly when they are getting into something they're not supposed to. They start crawling in hyper-gear and scoot straight over to the greasy hinge of the door, dog water bowl or scrapbooking supplies as soon as they hear their name.
You may think I feel guilty for exposing Micah and Malorie's flaws for everyone to read, but you should know I don't. Even though the twins have plenty of areas that bother us, we can't stand to be away from those two little buggers for any length of time at all. They learn new things that amaze us daily. I think Micah tried to use sign language to tell us he was ready for his milk today, and Mal cracks us up by trying to mimic every noise we make. The kids eventually warm up and play nice with our friends that come over, like Tara, who visited from Los Angeles this week. It's just that they're so full of love, and life and laughter that something bitter must come out sometimes, or else they'd melt in the sun like a candy bar. Come to think of it, I wouldn't want a kid that wasn't at least a little troublesome. In fact, there is not a single thing I would change about our two dirty little rascals. They are just as sweet and just as filthy, stinking mean as I would expect any kid that came from Rachel and me to be.