Bed Time(s)

I am unsure if when these kids grow up there is anything I will miss more than the end of the day. Bubbly wrinkled toes, combing tiny tousled heads of hair into business man-style swoops, zippy pj's, last sips of milk, bubble gum toothpaste kisses and sweet boys with folded hands praying for babies, "mom's baby," "all the babies everywhere," friends, every member of our family (we usually cut this off at about 15, sorry if you don't make the cut tonight) and well, lets be honest, sometimes "poopies."

The boys have finally started interacting as room-mates at bedtimes when we leave them to their own devices at 8:00 instead of like inmates rattling the bars in their cell and cursing at the 'guards.' They've been found reading together in Pete's crib on a number of occasions, and even given us an opportunity to sleep an extra few minutes when Sam delivers Pete a book to read when they wake up in the morning. Sam has begun referring to Pete as "My tiny little bitsy boy" and Pete to Sam as "Broder."

Pete: tiny, yet efficient.

P selecting another book in Portuguese for Mom to botch on page one and later dub in English.

P: "Mom really stinks at Portugese...and improv."

Who even sleeps like this? A frog, and Pete.