I think there’s this unwritten childhood rule that the best times to be had are in a messy room. Preferrably if that messy room is the family room.
The girls always try to find loop holes in the family rules.
“Our toys aren’t allowed out of our rooms, but we never heard anything about Payson’s toys or our blankets.”
Payson, on the other hand, doesn’t need toys. Daddy’s and mommy’s belongings and electronics are much better.
The remotes are a current favorite.
Sierra had this habit lately of saying things really forcefully when she talks. Even if she’s talking about a tea party with cupcakes her face looks like this:
Payson moves on from the remote to my hair clip. Which he yanked out of my hair earlier in the day.
We try to keep the pantry door shut at all times because we keep the garbage in there and Payson likes to munch away on trash.
Payson is constantly looking over to the pantry to see if someone left the door open. Each time he notices it ajar he hurries over there in hopes of grabbing a snack before mommy notices.
I take him out and shut the door and he goes back to the hair clip. I take a picture because… how can I not? Check out that bum!
All the kids were playing pleasantly and then Brooklyn has to go and grab Payson. She drives him crazy. He pushes her away and screams and wiggles but she will.not.let.go until I threaten a timeout.
When she’s not annoying him she’s actually really good at keeping him out of stuff and giving him toys and a binky.
Everything in the mouth. When does this phase end? I can’t remember.