As a mother to a half dozen kids, I have a lot of things I could, and often do, fret about. One perplexing difficulty that promised to keep me awake a few nights back was what color to make the twins. I'll explain. I am now in the process of re-organizing the kids according to color. Bradford blue. Benjamin green. Nathaniel yellow. Grace red. Their hangers, toothbrushes, plates, and cups are all the appropriate color. I'm running out of choices, though, and I was deliberating the potential problems with recycling a color or the potential problems with finding all the needed items in pink, purple, or white. I wanted to divert my attention from this all-consuming issue and lull myself to sleep with a dull book, so I grabbed a Dickens novel. Wrong choice. It was interesting, and I didn't want to put it down. At least I was no longer concerned about scarring the Twin-kle Toes by choosing the wrong color for them, but of COURSE I had to finish it. All 874 pages of it. I read the back, which made so sense whatsoever without the 864 pages that came before, but at least I knew that he did marry the heroine, and I went to sleep wondering what kinds of things led up to the happy ending.
I ended up skimming most of it last night while waiting up for Sophie's nightly social call. Every night at 11:15 she politely asks to be taken to our bedroom closet and put into the bassinet there. Yeah, right. She screams her head off until I get to her crib, at which point she looks up and smiles at me. I whisk her away so she won't awaken the others, and when I abandon her to sleep in the basket she protests wildly for about 1 minute, after which she sleeps until about 4-4:30.
2 comments:
Easy. The twins can be black and white.
Which Dickens novel was it?
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