Let's See How Long I Can Type

before my attention is urgently required. 

Today's game is "Let's pile all the furniture in the room in front of the doorway, challenge Mama and Papa to get in, then unpile it all and straighten up the room, and invite them in to admire how neat it is."  I can think of worse games to play.

It hasn't been all sunshine and roses*, but the occasional tantrums and world-class pouting sessions have been followed up by a return to cheerfulness and attempts to make amends in their own way.  I just took the two of them out on my own (scary!) to try to get their visa photos taken.  Either the photo shop has moved, or I am a foreign idiot who can't recognize a photo shop.  Both seem equally likely.  Anyway, they held my hand the whole time (which they kind of love and kind of hate), and the looked at all the souvenires for sale without whining for them, even when the crafty sales guy handed them a kaleidescope to try.  I bought them each a postcard, and they were perfectly happy with that. 

Jon is worried that the steady diet of sausage, sweetened yogurt, and cheese will give them heart attacks by the age of twelve, but at least they are eating.  Actually, they eat a LOT.  Not sure if they are truly hungry, or if the novelty of being able to demand and receive food at all hours is the motivation.  Neither have eaten themselves sick, so that's good too. 

Bedtime is a difficult transition.  They don't want to sleep alone, but if we put them down together, they want to play.  Then they get naughty and rude if we try to stop them, and then we escalate to the meltdown stage.  When I say "we"--I try not to visibly tantrum, but I sure don't enjoy myself.  So them we separate them, one kid per adult, until we've reached calm again, and then they usually are all clingy and huggy and we all wind up going to bed together at the same time in the same bed.  So, not much time on our own.

And now I am needed to play...