Two is harder than one

And by that, I mean two kids. They are harder than one. And not doubly more work. 10 times more work.

Is this the point where I should say that I love my kids? I feel silly qualifying this, because this isn't a complaint.

Just a point.

That we're tired.

But an update:
Autumn is a little girl. She helps us clean up. She sings, dances, hugs, kisses, and will engage you in a conversation for as long as you want. She also has a wonderful imagination. At night, when I'm reading books to her, she calls Uncle Simon and UncaNina (Aunt Christina) on the phone using a little remote control for a stereo. This is how it goes:

"Hi, Uncle Simon? We're just sitting here reading books with my Daddy before bed. Want to speak to my daddy?"

"Let me see if he's here."

Priceless. She's call monitoring on fake calls.

A few months ago, if I sang the wrong words to a Mary Poppins song, she would get upset and possibly have a meltdown. There's a scene in Mary Poppins where the children sing about what they want in a Nanny. It starts:

"If you want this choice position, have a cheery disposition".

I used to make up words to that, but she would have none of it. Sometime around a month ago, I officially won her over. Now, we sing a sing when she brushes her teeth that goes:

"If you want to brush your teeth up, put some toothpaste on the toothbrush". And it goes on from there. The point is, she's willing to imagine that a song can be changed and made up."

The last thing is that at daycare, she's been offering to get Dan, her teacher, a beer. I asked her to get me a beer once, and now it's turned into a thing that she does.

If you're looking for a beer, it's great. If you're at your kid's daycare, not so much.


Tomorrow, we'll give an update on Gavin. Our little man.