Not As Excellent a Mohawk As Isabella's
When Kevin is out of town, my most dreaded time of day, by far, is bedtime. Two exhausted kids and only one ragged parent to get them from playtime to nod, both at precisely eight o'clock. (How they both chose exactly the same bedtime, I'll never know) The routine that runs so smoothly with just one extra sandman completely falls apart when he's gone. Greta gets splashed during their bath while Noah loses patience and tries to escape before his hair is washed. Noah chooses jammies with mismatched tops and bottoms and Greta refuses to stay tightly swaddled. Noah wants to read Grandfather Twilight and Corduroy, but I can't stop bouncing Greta long enough to turn the pages.
Still, by quarter after eight, they're both out like lights. Now I'll stealthily open their door to peek in on them a hundred times before my bedtime. Sleeping baby never gets old.
Most Awesome Bath Toys Ever
*Not my line
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