While one whirling dervish flung himself off stacks of mats and hurled himself up and over a balance structure twice his height – proudly chanting “POMMEL HORSE” at the top of his lungs, our other son was quiet.
This was not our most stellar gymnastics class outing. Continue reading
The gate to baby jail the living room was ajar. We’re trying to see if the muppets are capable of conducting themselves with a moderate sense of decorum in larger household arenas. Ok fine, we’re monitoring closely to make sure they don’t kill themselves or anyone else in the near vicinity.
Destroy wandered over and pointed at the jogging stroller. “No sweetie, not right now. Daddy’s cooking dinner and Mommy’s being lazy.” Continue reading