Dragons' Lair

"Parents always make their worst mistakes with the oldest children. Thats when parents know the least but care the most, so they're more likely to be wrong and also more likely to insist they're right." - Orson Scott Card

We started baby sign language this week for no better reason than, why not? Advocates for this consumer product claim higher IQ, increased vocabulary, and even immortality I think. I can just picture Eliot getting hungry in kindergarten and using a cow-milking gesture to get teachers attention. That is the exact sign for milk- so yeah, a little strange from the get go. Kristin just figured with all the spare time on our hands, lets have some fun. I was pushing for Portuguese, but that will have to wait for the next litter.

Some days are harder than others. Kristin had to travel for work again last week, and this time I couldn't cry for my mother to fly out and help. With two, we really try to keep them on a regimented schedule when it comes to feeding. This may sound excessive, or maybe even militaristic, but it really helps avoid the chaos that ensues with the 'feed when hungry' approach. Despite my strategic efforts, the boys fed on the fact that I was without reinforcements, and would scream in my face just for kicks. Enough is enough, Eliot gets moved upstairs and into the bouncer chair. He continues screaming only now I have the floor and a few walls to buffer the attack while I feed Finn, which is really all he ever wants. But every possible measure has failed to calm the 15 pound dragon known as Eliot. I dig deeper now, slowly gaining more strength and patience. A muzzle, I think to myself. Drat! I said only as a last resort. Ahhhh.... the motrin. If he doesn't actually have a toothache, you can bet your lucky dime that I will point out a tooth about to breech. But all is now well, and triage was the order of the day.


The part I don't understand, is the gripping power these two little dragons have. After all the fussing, eating, diapers, and more, we always end up testing them once more each night. After they have fallen asleep, we wind up tip-toeing into their room for just one last peek at them. Its almost as if those cute peaceful faces are daring us to dip down and give them one last peck. There is something satisfying about standing triumphant in the dragons' lair. You know they could breath fire at any time, yet we stand there with some kind of dominating pride of a successful day.