We have kind of a weird internet connection, so I'm making some partial posts.
I have a few pics of the 4th of July. One is of Big H and Baby M. Big H has become my little helper when it comes to making sure Baby M doesn't run off. He usually gets him when I ask, and sometimes when I don't. Sometimes it's helpful. Sometimes it's not. But he tries and that's what counts. On the 4th we went to Provo to check out some of the festivities before Craig went to work. Big H is seen here trying to keep our over wondering Baby M in line.
Other pics from the 4th include the ones if Little H and the giant bump on his head. He fell down the stairs and I came out to find him with this new decoration on his forehead. I didn't know what to think at first. I tried sending a pic to Craig. He seemed coherent. My mom showed him the bump in the mirror and he went around telling everyone the story about how he got it. I decided to wait and see what happened. After all our hospital visits usually end up being unnecessary. Well he woke up at 1:00 A.M. vomiting, so we took him in. Poor kid had to get a CT scan all by himself since I'm pregnant. The nurses stayed with him though, and said he did great. They said everything looked fine and it was probably just a concussion. I swear I never saw that kid hit his head more than he did that following week. I was about to strap a helmet on him and wrap in bubble wrap.
The other pics are from a little sports camp we signed the twins up for, on the 2nd week in July. I was so excited that they were old enough to be able to be signed up for stuff. They did pretty good. They weren't as independent as I had hoped, and I was probably too mean. Just from my experience as an aide it seemed better if the parents let us handle things, so the children would see us as someone they should listen to and respect. I wanted my boys to have practice following rules from other adults besides Mom and Dad. I guess since that was what mattered most to me it was especially irritating when I had to stand right next to them and they still wouldn't participate. But each day found them willingly participating by the end of the hour. Poor Baby M would have killed to be a part of it all. And he probably would've participated rather well. That doesn't mean he would've followed directions though.
Hopefully I can include a little bit more about these things in future posts. But if not, at least I got this much written down.