Wren put her baby doll in her shirt this week and said, "Look at my baby!" It was cute, and I thought it was just an imitation, because I obviously have a huge belly under my shirt. I took pictures.
I said, "Wren, your baby's feet are actually already falling out. I think you may have a problem."
She shoved them back in. "It's fine, mom. You just shove her back up there."
So, Wren is definitely a problem solver, but I think she is done with all my logical reasoning about bedrest. That's why I let our sweet sitter who usually keeps them on the days I have to work mornings come over today. I left, parked the car in a parking lot and bedrested there. I figured it would be nice for her to have an adult around who wasn't trying to stop babies from free falling out of her uterus. She and Sammy have been pretty mellow about me loafing around looking like a lazy, negligent parent. I guess I can't blame her for questioning it. And at least she provided a reasonable solution: you can always just shove the babies back in.
They are really lucky to have D because when he gets home, it's almost a guarantee the night is going to end with our children looking like this:
|Sammy flipped his hat where his hair covered his face and then chased|
Super Girl around the house completely unable to see.
How no one has concussions is beyond me.