the twenty-fifth

They are a year now, so their antics are now open for blogging.....have to make it a fair game. Might as well embarrass all of them so that the level of hatred is even among my children.

They are drunk gnomes. Drunk wandering gnomes. The act of walking is so exciting to them. So much so that they usually fall because they are so happy. Wow, I wish I remembered when life was so simple.
I had been threatening to push them down swoop them up when they took their first steps, as it would be an official sign of my life ending. Over. No longer mine. Complete.madness. But so far it's not that bad. It could be worse.

As a result of their decision (or mother natures decision) to walk, our house has become a bit like Fort Knox. Gates, locks, guards, special passwords, handshakes...well maybe the last few are a stretch, but you catch my drift.

Nothing is safe. The other day they pulled down the round side table. Let me repeat that,...... they pull down the the round side table. While no one was hurt, the loud crash did not deter them much. They were back at it within minutes. I have affectionately named them Hummingbird Moving Company (thank you Becky C) because they rearrange the kitchen chairs (yes, you are reading that correctly), push or shove on anything that is in their way and when there is no movement they get so so so so frustrated. I laugh at them which just seems to fuel their fire. Awesome.

When gates block their entry, they shake it back and forth. If you impede their forward motion, you'd better watch yourself. They are one year old and they are bad to the bone. Holler!