Keeping us hopping.

The boys have really been keeping us all hopping lately. Griffith, of course, is Griffith. Full-time, every day. But now Allan is so busy and full of himself that there's very little time left for any thing other than herding babies.

We had a pretty busy weekend. Miranda came over both nights to look after the fellas. Jay and I attended a Burns supper on Saturday (complete with a genuine Scotsman host in a kilt with a dirk). Yes, we ate haggis (just a little) and drank some whiskey and danced a few reels before heading home.

Sunday was such a pretty day, at least early, so the boys and I headed out for a run. The weather has made that sort of thing hit-or-miss and I certainly felt it. Nothing like pushing 45 pounds worth of babies uphill to make you remember the Burns supper the night before.

Last night was Jay's "night out" so I was flying solo. Things were going very well -- dinner (check), playtime (check), baths (check). Griff was snuggled down in my arms taking his bottle and drifting off to sleep when Allan decided it was time to put on a show. Now, mind you, Allan is often very quiet and just entertains himself. Quietly. However, if he catches on that his brother is going to sleep, he immediately decides to act up. I was smart enough to close off the door to the hallway and fasten the gate in to the kitchen before I sat down with Griff. That at least kept Allan confined to the living and dining rooms. After a few quiet minutes, Griff is drifting off -- only to be jarred awake by Allan whacking the basketball goal which counts and cheers and plays music. I'll just ignore it. Maybe he'll move on. Which he did. To the giraffe which talks and lights up and plays music and laughs this stupid laugh. Griff is about asleep again. This time Allan gets the animal train which sings. Damn it, Allan, knock it OFF! So I get up and move all the toys that make sounds or turn them off. This P.O.'s Allan who then stands at the dining room table trying to reach said talking toys (and ignoring the other silent toys all over the floor.) He squawks and talks and jabbers and generally tells me off. All the while Griff is just trying to go to sleep. Mission nearly accomplished when Allan figures out how to take a hard plastic ball and whack it repeatedly in to the corner (think The Great Escape and Steve McQueen). Griff is awake again. Get up, take the ball, listen to Allan b*tch. Sit back down, readjust Griff. Allan finds the gingerbread man who sings about making cookies. Allan, this is beginning to seem intentional, pal.

About 45 minutes go by of this sort of activity, when Allan decides to crawl over and try to get up in my lap. Fine. Except he doesn't want to snuggle (despite it being his bedtime and despite his always wanting to snuggle.) No, he wants to stand and walk and kick and talk. Every time Griff got anywhere near sleep, Allan managed to wake him. Finally he settled down -- but only if he could be laying on top of his brother. At this point, Griff didn't care. The only problem is that Allan is such a hot little guy that Griff and I were burning up.

When Jay got home, he found us as you see in the pictures. The worst part was that I had a lovely glass of wine just to my left, but couldn't get to it because I had a baby in each hand. I need one of those hats that hold cans of beer.......