Now that the earth has tilted on it's wobbly axis and we rotate away from the sun more quickly upon this screw ball planet, I am forced to accept my manic children's behavior in my house, instead of OUTSIDE where they should be. Darkens descends upon us at 5:30 like a black plague or creeping moldy scourge and I look to heaven for guidance when ushering the kids inside. The voice in side my head repeats like a bad ear worm, "..do not hurt kids, do not hurt kids, do not hurt kids...."
Things have been rapidly disintegrating when my little angels, Wyatt and Ella transform into frantic demon dwarfs leaping off the furniture and squeezing behind the couch. They like to party like rock stars. Hence, my impending commitment to the asylum may prevent further blog entries.
Some of their favorite indoor activities include:
1. Dumping approximately 20 stuffed animals and all the blankets from Wyatt's bed into Ella's crib then climbing in to the zoo,
2. Tearing all the cushions off the couch to make a fort, then jump on top of fort,
3. Terrorizing the cats until unearthly and dangerous growls can be heard from felines, and
4. Playing two Hullabaloo speaker units at once so there are two different sets of directions given simultaneously.
I am certain further creative developments will provide entertainment for them as they tire of their current indoor curriculum.
Here is a glimpse of what I must monitor in my office/laundry room so they don't fall off of the "guest" bed and crack their heads open. Little do the visitors know that there's all kinds of baby slobber and cat hair on the quilt, oops...
It starts off mostly with some controlled jumping to dance music.
Then it escalates to getting air time with more energetic leaping and random pillow tossing.
Then their antics somewhat resemble a mosh pit.
And finally, as Ellas legs start to give way she turns to yodeling and Wyatt is thinking about how to climb in the pillow case.
After all their wild flailing is finished the two can move on to more quiet and studious craft type activities requiring concentration.
The trolls climb on to my desk where they squat on top and do whatever they find most interesting at that moment. I put up with a lot to get a few minutes of computer time, but I feel I teeter precariously on the edge of loosing my Internet connection or power with a potential snip from the scissors Wyatt wields with deadly precision. But mostly instead, Wyatt finds cutting paper into millions of pieces of confetti an adequate foil. Ella ever looking for something to color is thankfully using the paper instead of my washing machine and drier for her canvas. To date she has never met a vertical surface she doesn't like and on which she would not hesitate to decorate with her Technicolor scribbles.
With my two-baby wrecking crew finding new and improved ways to upend my 800 square foot house, bed time never seems near enough. I find myself counting down until the shortest day of the year passes in December; and then I comfort myself that in a few months I can release the beasts outside after dinner once again.
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