Can I Get a WHOOP! WHOOP!

So this July has brought us our first bout with whooping cough. The night I got the call that our 2-yr. old son had tested positive for his pertussis test, I drank a humongous green coffee drink and fretted the night away.

I was really worried. And really caffeinated. And maybe that's the same thing, really.

But then the morning came. We doled out the antibiotics to everyone, noted that the 3-mo. old still had no symptoms, and stocked up on juice, popsicles, humidifiers, and yogurt.

Gideon is the only one who has developed the distinctive "Whoop! Whoop!" and he handles it like a real soldier. He pushes through the coughing fit, rests for a bit, then continues tormenting his 4-yr. old brother.

It really has only marginally slowed the mayhem down. Almost indistinguishably, really.

I've limited my online time, only getting on for emergencies ("Am I supposed to roast the garlic first?") before about 8 PM. The minutes after 8:00 have been spent researching whooping cough, the pertussis vaccine, and recipes (always). Short story: whooping cough is currently an epidemic, the vaccine may actually make things worse (at least, it doesn't help: 80% of people who get whooping cough have been fully vaccinated), and I seem to be inexplicably drawn to recipes to which you can add salsa, sour cream, and cheese.  

But also this July brought us Independence Day. I like those pictures better, so I'm sticking those in here.

For the Fourth of July, we visited the Frontier Culture Museum, ate bratwurst and watermelon, read the Declaration of Independence, and found singalong patriotic songs on YouTube.

And right now, we're busy drinking drinking drinking, filling humidifiers, bleaching towels, reading books, and trying to sort out our homeschool schedule.

Happy July.

...And Many More...

I do believe I may have waxed, eloquently or otherwise, about Two being a better age than One.


I should know better.


I guess, like birth pains, the pain of having twin two-year olds is easily forgotten.


I just don't know how.


February 2nd was Groundhog Day. I guess. In our house, that little fact is totally eclipsed by a certain second set of twins having a birthday.

We grilled. We baked. We partied. I fought my usual losing battle with my camera, trying to take indoor pictures at night. We congratulated ourselves for moving them over into the big boys' and big girls' rooms (and out of cribs) successfully before their second birthday. 


And a few days later, I was calling my mother trying to sell them off.


It all started when Jonathan flushed a stink bug down the toilet. The next thing I knew, Gideon and Salem were finding flies and other insect carcasses under baseboard heaters and heavy furniture and wedged in window casings. Their subsequent multitudinous flushings necessitated my leaving the kitchen to fix the toilet.


I should have remembered this chain of events from when Abraham and Miriam were 2. Fix one mess, return to place of origin to discover new mess.


When I returned to the kitchen, I found Gideon and Salem had peeled the labels off the tomato cans. Gideon had his cup stuck in the automatic water dispenser on the front of the fridge (so water was constantly running in a so-fun fountain onto the unfinished wood floor), and Salem had the top off the vinegar bottle.


My mother wouldn't take them.


In all honesty (and all of this has been honest), these two bring us constant laughter. Exasperated laughter, sometimes, but still.


Gideon has this shock of curly hair that I just love. It's funny, this wee bit of his Grandpa Allison that shows up in this house. He has expressive eyebrows and an uncanny sense of rhythm. Like King Saul, he's soothed by music. We're keeping our eyes out for some bongos for this one.


And Salem. Oh, Salem. I've never met a more condescending two-year old. She has the expressions and mannerisms of a forty-year old. Even Miriam wasn't this patronizing. And she loves to sing. She sings to The Head and the Heart, and Gideon dances and beats on the couch.


I am remembering all the other things that happen when you have (or when we have, at least) twin 2-yr. olds. The crayons and markers get thrown out or locked up (by the parents!). Any cups with drinks still in them are hastily poured down the owners' throats before they get discovered by those who have newly learned the joy of moving a chair to get things that are higher than they can normally reach. Toothbrushes are hidden. Silverware is regularly counted, and when it goes missing, floor vents are checked.


Nothing is safe.


Cue the "Jaws" music. And cue The Head and the Heart. I am lost in my mind, and I have no hope of recovery.

(There is a video embedded in this post. Email subscribers may have to click over.)

Sometimes we pout...

... and Gideon is king.

From Pouting

Juxtaposition

The thing is, this is only incredibly fun to them because there is an official label warning against this very type of behavior.

NO, NO, NO!!!!

Gideon