Jeeesh- how did that happen?
Who are forever my babies.
Of course I complain to people about them.
They are the kings of chaos, the best sulkers I have ever met, the sumo wrestling champions.
But it's dawned on me.
I can't imagine how life would be if one of Squeaks' best friends was always here. An afternoon is enough.
There would be play time, breaking up and making up, on repeat.
And the boys are amazingly strong characters for it.
They are patient.
They are understanding.
They break up with shouting and fighting.
And they make up with sorry's, kisses, and hugs.
We've had a few chances to go swimming and the boys are now such confident, happy swimmers. Because they just do. And I am amazed that I can genuinely cope with these two little swimmers as Mr J and Squeaks go off to practice her widths. And they make me laugh as they dive for their toys and I no longer wonder how their nappies get so full as they seem to absorb water.
Cheeky has taken to coming into the office for chats, attempting to incorporate 'poo' into every sentence- because he laughs when Squeaks does it with him so why wouldn't this make mummy laugh too?
And Tiny, who knows a cuddle and a kiss will get him everything.
As I wonder if I'm going to dislocate Cheeky's arm as I drag him from his sulk.
Cheeky is the absolute king of sulking bar no other. It is absolute distraction which might get him out of it. But now, bottom hits the floor and he's not going anywhere.
Tiny attempts to replicate, but he's too easy to distract, so he just goes for bursts of tears instead.
And of course Cheeky is the most likely to wake from his nap in a bad mood and take ages to bring around.
I've no idea where they get it from.
But get their duvets the wrong way around.
Or forget to close a door.
Or put their plate just so.
Fireworks don't cover it.
They are the best of friends and the funniest of battle buddies.
I am amazed that Squeaks is so ingrained, that where the sibling friendship rests the fact that two are twins makes no difference.
Squeaks is always the one dragging one of the boys, or both of them around with her.
And they are equally happy to enjoy my company.
As we cwtch in watching Toy Story, or play monsters with a blanket and shrieks and roars, till voices are hoarse and laughter rings.
Two two-year olds make life manic.
Two two-year olds make life fantastic.