Mumu has started a campaign to refine her sister. She brushes Lulu’s wild curls. She picks out a dress for her sister each morning (which is fine because Lulu doesn’t give a hoot what I put on her). Mumu sets the example with her table manners, and with picking up around the house. She’s is always chasing her sister down to give her back a carelessly dropped toy, always handing Lulu her sippy cup and trying to get her to drink more water. She tries to calm her down when Lulu’s upset. I have to restrain myself from calling Mumu the big sister, because she is bigger, and acts like it. I don’t know if this is a “Mommy phase,” or Mumu’s nature, but it’s kind of cute, and entertaining to watch. It also makes me curious about the relationship dynamics for other twins or older/younger siblings. Obviously all our kids are keepers , but in your house, is one child another child’s keeper?
And just for fun, here’s a pic of Mumu daintily eating a macaroon on Easter Sunday.
And here’s Lulu, just starting to stuff the whole macaroon in her mouth.
Mumu really has her work cut out for her.
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Last night was husband was appalled to learn I haven’t blogged about the giant the flaming meteor that fell in front of us a month and a half ago. I haven’t been holding out on you guys, I swear. The truth is, my life on this island is so wiggedly whack I totally forgot about the giant flaming meteor until he brought it up last night.
So here’s the dealio. The night before the girls birthday (or Valentines Day Eve, if you prefer), after jungletwins had been put to bed, my husband and I walked onto the balcony of our hotel room to watch the sun go down and stars come up. After the sunset, there in the twilight, we saw a large fiery orange thing falling from the sky in a perfect arc. It seemed like it was going to land in the hotel parking lot and we both kind of stared in disbelief, because the thing was clearly burning, but it wasn’t a plane (or a bird) or anything else. My first thought was that it was a hot air balloon, minus the balloon, but that makes no sense whatsoever. My second thought was that I had obviously had too much wine. Probably true, given my history at resorts on this island, but my husband saw it too, and he can better hold his liquor. It must have been further away than it appeared, because it didn’t land in the parking lot, and we were able to watch its descent for at least a few minutes. My husband finally called it, yelling, “It’s a meteor!”
The funny thing is, I’ve been waiting for a sign in recent weeks, totally forgetting the whole fireball business. Things have been a bit crappy lately, and I’ve been doing a lot a mental whining about it, looking around for some grand, unexpected sign that good changes are in the works and our luck will finally improve. I’ve been settling for bright red cardinals and giant horned chameleons in my banana trees, and rainbows in the park in front of my house. I think it’s pretty generous of the universe to send me these things, actually, given what an ungrateful wretch I am. If I were Mother Nature, I wouldn’t send my human self any cheerful signs since my human self didn’t even have the decency to blog about it. I’d be all, “I sent a giant flaming meteor to land at your feet, Junglemom. What that hell else do you want?”
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