T-R-O-U-B-L-E

My little beauties are absolute angels, of course. However, occasionally, they have to be rescued from themselves. A few days ago I finally got Josie's new "big girl bed" set up in her room. With the double safety rails, it looks a little like a hospital bed. Oh well. And the room isn't set up in its final configuration, as we still have the crib in there. Every time I ask her where she wants to sleep, she points to the crib. That is where she sleeps, after all. And changing her routine is going to be a challenge. I have a feeling we're going to have to do a baptism by fire to teach her to sleep in her new bed (by simply removing the crib as an option). For now, she considers it a new toy. Her favorite game is walking along the edge like she's walking on a beam ... around and around and around. She's definitely got a little gymnast in her!

Eleanor, bless her heart, isn't quite crawling yet. But man does she get around! She has this completely undignified army crawl / finger pull / toe-push thing going. It isn't pretty, but it gets her around. And she is already getting into everything. I'm finding myself constantly moving her away from all the trouble she finds. I'm dreading the day she's really crawling and can easily get around my relocation efforts.

Chewing on the tag in Josie's pj's while holding her basket like a purse.

Getting into the cords under the TV table.

The minute I had finished making the bed, she climbed in and said "night night!" But, for her, its still just a game, not a place she would actually sleep. Apparently, that's a preposterous proposition.

Oh yeah, that's more like it.