I'm beginning to get it, I think. I need to know that the mornings are not going to be anything but crazy, with twins wanting to eat, eat, eat and then eat again with nary a nap in sight and toddlers wanting to play, play, play with nary a quiet moment in hearing. But then, just when I think I'm going to go nuts, they will all conk out and I will have a lovely afternoon of silence. (I hate to say this, because I'm afriad I will jinx myself, but then I remind myself that I'm a Christian who doesn't believe in jinxes. Just change over time. :) )

Then eat, eat, eat and play, play, play till bedtime.

And Adam and I are learning to go to bed when Brie and Sam do, calling it our "nap", only to wake again around midnight, at which point we do all the normal evening routine of pumping, feeding twins, changing twins, and then feeding the twins again. Then he gets first shift of the rest of the night, and I get second, and somehow we all make it through to the morning.

Guerilla parenting. (Or maybe gorilla. As in Disney's Tarzan yelling "GOR-RILL-AAAAA!")