This week has been one of those weeks were I asked myself every single day if there was supposed to be a full moon that night.
Every morning, Cara and Ollie have gotten up and started in on each other. Cara would sock Ollie or Ollie would bite Cara; we really thought the biting thing was over.
Cara has entered that stage – I suspect it’s perpetual – where she only wants to play with the things Ollie grabs and she screams bloody murder until either she gets said toy or she attempts to beat the living daylights out of her brother.
The problem is Oliver is like me and Cara is like Tucker.
I have a habit of being tenacious when I make up my mind about something and it doesn’t matter how stupid that something might be. Tucker has a habit of looking at an obstacle and instead of finding a way around or over the obstacle, Tucker plows right through. Tucker and I generally get along just fine since we understand the whole “United we stand…” thing.
Cara and Ollie? Oil and water.
The screwed up part is that if you try to separate the two they scream and cry and generally make a loud ruckus because they can’t be together. Damned if I do. Damned if I don’t.
Makes me happy I have cute pictures of them to remind myself they have their good moments.
Pardon me while I stare at these pictures for a bit and chant to myself, “They are cute. They will eventually get along. They will eventually stop fighting. EVENTUALLY, they have to go to bed.”