When patience grows thin

Listen up, girls.

I've been having flash backs to parts of our first year together. And, it ain't pretty. Much like when you were infants, you're crying a lot and I can't seem to satisfy your every need.

The fighting has got to stop. One second we're laughing, and having a blast, and the next you're playing tug o' war over something as silly as a stick. A stick? There were three sticks, but you both had to have the same brown, made-of-wood, covered-in-bark stick. I guess in toddlerland, not all sticks are created equal, much to my dismay.

Plus, the whining! Can we please just stop it? Now? It's grating.

And, no, even though I would love to allow it, you can't watch Baby Signing Times three times a day. Just two. Three is for those days when everything is going wrong, and there is a house showing. Your fix of two will just have to do -- considering the American Pediatric Association or whatever it's called says that since you're under 2 you should not even watch television at all.

Go back to pressing dirt into the creases of your meaty thighs. And, into your scalp. I love it when you look like homeless babies. That's the kind of fun you should be having! So long as you are laughing when you do it -- throw as much dirt and pebbles as you want!

Just please stop crying.

And, when you do both enter a fit of screaming bloody murder for what appears no reason at all, just go with the flow and fix your own dinner when you see Mama curling up in a fetal position on the floor, crying, too.