It's called crazy

Wow, what a whirlwind of sunshine, babies and big, big developmental changes.

Olive figured out how to get herself around (scooting) this week and has developed the enchanting sleep time habit of incessantly rolling over and pushing to sit up, over and over and over and over again. She will be frantic with fatigue, weeping, and will continue to roll over and push up, like a little automaton. Going to sleep used to take a bit of boob, a book, some songs, and night night. Now it's hours of crying. Poor monkey. Poor mummy and daddy. Everyone is tired, tired, tired. Olive also started clapping and waving this week. Picture this: wee monkey sitting up on her futon, sobbing, grinning and waving. It's called crazy folks, and we're experts.

Etta Mae started to come to stay with us this week while her mama returns to toil at "work", although I think we'd both say that "work" has nothing on the work we do at home with these little ladies. I was so worried about how well this whole child care sharing would go, and there are going to be some definite rough patches around sleep, but the secret, unexpected delights? They are great. Olive and Etta find each other endlessly amusing. We knew that they liked each other, but these great swaths of time side by side are leading to some pretty wild giggle fits. Etta spits out cucumber, Olive giggles. Then Etta giggles. Then Doug and I giggle. Then everyone is giggling. Olive hiccups. Etta giggles. The cycle goes on. Thank the gods for the giggles, otherwise the crying, clinging, and general sleeplessness might just drive me around the bend.

Witness, Olive finally sleeps while Etta sports a gravel goatee. Also, the finished birthday crown! Woo hoo!