They're my babies, they can't sit up. They were just born. To prove this to her I sat Henry up and then put my hands out to catch him in his inevitable fall, but nope. He just sat there and smiled like he'd been waiting for this moment for months. Luke followed suit. Little stinkers.
Then someone was like, "Oh they're almost seven months? Are they eating solids yet?" and I just kind of went blank. Solid foods? For my infants? Are you insane!? But again, they chowed down as if they'd been doing it their whole lives.
And now they're almost eight months old and this morning my friend said, "Oh Henry has a tooth!" And I was like, "No he doesn't." And she gave me that look like she was embarrassed and sad for me. So I checked and lo and behold, my youngest baby has a tooth.
So, I did what any normal mother would do.
I tried to push it back in.
Get in there! I'M NOT READY YET!
Almost every time I talk to my mom she laughs and Every Dang Time I mistakenly think it's because I've said something amusing. She shuts that line of thinking down real quick and says, through her muffled laughter, "That's just another dollar in the Future Therapy Jar". Get it? Because I do so many weird things my kids will need therapy?
(Yet does she pay for my therapy? Noooooooooo. That's not her fault.)
Anyway. Here are some pictures of the children I am apparently ruining by "pushing in their teeth", or "telling them to live with me forever", or whispering "no one will ever love you like I do" while they're sleeping.
Hen, rocking the 80's bib and liking it.
Kids hit an age where they can't take a normal picture. They smile like they're about to be shot. But it's still cute.
Tula is trying out a new look.
Henny in his favorite spot. My chest.
Luke rocking the old man hat. He's the cutest little old Jewish man ever!