First, they're not very far from the age when they'll be able to negotiate their own way down the stairs (with supervision, of course). Even at this point, we let them crawl up the stairs for bed at night, while following closely behind them - in case either of them loses their balance. It's become a racing event, however, and we always have to tell Liam to slow down (and he always has to be first to the top. I have no idea where he gets his competitive streak).
Second, they're not light anymore. When I started doing this every morning, they were a little smaller, and a little easier to carry. Liam's 30 pounds now, and Morgan's 24, so that's 54 squirming pounds to carry down the stairs. Still, having them in that kind of proximity to kiss them on their little faces on the way downstairs is worth it.
Third, I just didn't know how soon I'd be 'back'...but the hip surgery has been a bit of a miracle. Back to work in just under five weeks, and now carting the babyload down the stairs in just under eight? Considering the crush of responsibility at work that has been keeping me from getting to physiotherapy, things really couldn't be better.
But the best news of recent days is that Janne is employed at a Law Office in Brantford. It's a better kind of gig for her, too, because things were getting stale from a challenge perspective at her last job, and her commute (almost a staple of life in Southern Ontario, unfortunately) is now all of six minutes. Awesome. Although she'll miss the folks at her old job, I'm sure they'll probably head out to lunch once a month or so, plus half of them are on Facebook, so there's that.
Her new job, which started Monday, was the catalyst to get me back to my morning duties before our mutually-agreed-upon three month recuperation period was up. Mind you, I've been getting up early for the last little while to help get the kids fed and out the door with Janne, and she'd drop them off on her way to whatever temp job or interview she may have been heading, but after this past Monday morning's experience almost giving me a heart attack from worry - trying to get her out the door so she wouldn't be late on her first day at the new job, (we won't discuss Janne's genetic predisposition to being late at this juncture. She reads this, after all) I decided I needed to step up, to free her up from baby responsibilities. After all, she had to do everything by herself while I was convalescing for five or six weeks. Considering she was going through being laid off from her job of the last 9 years, plus trying to find a new one, plus coming to visit me for the first week of those five or six, she did amazingly well...so it's the least I can do.
Okay - so kidlet pics.
This was from their first morning stuck with Dear Old Dad carrying them downstairs, serving breakfast, changing diapers, dressing them in colour-co-ordinated clothing, and driving them to daycare. (Got there at 10 sharp, as advertised.) Looks like they were getting along, eh?
Here's one demonstrating the great job the baby gates are doing from keeping the two of them from cracking their cute little heads open...
Sorry, Morgan, you can't back your brother down the stairs.
Maybe when you're older, and I'm not looking.
These two are kinda fun. Janne decided to try to organize the toys the way our daycare provider does, in drawers. She bought a plastic three-drawer thing which is so easy to disassmble, a 20-month-old can do it! Turns out the twins would rather try carpet surfing in the drawers than use them for their intended purpose. But that's babies, right?
***Bit of an update - Friday, August 17/07 - Just got back from my surgeon's office, and the usually subdued doctor used the following to describe my post-op progress:
"awesome" - "incredible" - "excellent" - "you're a star"
That felt good. Every day, everything feels just a little bit better.
