I am truly doing the mommy blogger thing this week, because all my posts are about these kids. What can I say, they are rich fodder for writing, and I'm on Day Four Without Rick. Sure, his story of being propositioned in Vegas makes for a good tale (*cough*), but you'll have to wait for that one.
Instead I will introduce you to a twin phenomenon.
This is not a scientific phenomenon by any means. I'm pretty sure it's just an oddity that happens to affect both of these children, but it sounds cooler to say its a phenomenon than to say I have weird kids.
You may recall that the girls were awake in the night and noticed the power was out, earlier in the week. Well, I really can't say how much they are awake in the night, or what they are doing, since as you might guess I am sleeping. I also can't tell you what they are doing most nights, because they are in night-time quarantine, to curb their wanderings. I do know that before the current quarantine regime, we had all kinds of evidence of their nightlife.
The final straw that necessitated the lockdown was The Creepy incident.
I came down one morning to find the girls up at and at 'em as usual. But as I entered the playroom, I immediately noticed that the back door was unlocked, and the lights were on out back. The situation jumped out at me because at 5:30am it is still very dark out. In a shocked tone, I asked the girls if they had messed with the door and lights. Isabella replied "We wanted to go out into The Creepy." Ah. They made a game out of the dark night, called it The Creepy, and went outside. Freak out. This disturbed me, this evidence that they had no qualms about leaving the house while we were all asleep.
Result: Lockdown. Quarantine. Reversed door handle on the bedroom door.
Cut to today, a few months later. The girls are advised to wait until they see a "6" on the clock before knocking on the door to come out in the morning.
Only last night there was a change of schedule. Around 2:30am I heard a tap-tapping at their door, and little voices chanting "Knock, knock, who's there...". I stumbled to their room to see what the problem was.
I was greeted at the door by two fully-dressed children, ready to come out and play. What?!? I mumbled something about it not being anywhere near "6" and why did they have their school clothes on? Apparently they were "ready to go to school" and Isabella was urgently hungry and thirsty. They implied clearly that I was the one with a problem, not them. I demanded urgently that their pj's be re-donned post-haste and no I would not be singing any more lullabies.
This boggles me. What are they doing in there all night?? They don't get crazy amounts of sugar, drink no caffeine, and I certainly have not left any speed laying around on the end tables. They are high on life and living in their own little world, in which I am mostly a satellite that swings by to serve food & set them free in the morning.
A twin phenomenon? Or just a separate wavelength? They mock me & my prying questions, cutting eyes at each other and giggling.
We should've known. Should have seen this coming the day they were born. The moment the OB stated that Jadyn had the shortest umbilical cord she had ever seen, we should have prepared ourselves. Keep that one a short leash, kids. That one and her cohort.