Tonight, Jeremy and I spent a good half hour tossing the girls across the room. Seriously.
It all started because Lydia was cranky and all she wanted was MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY! which is crazy given that the last week and a half if Daddy is home she's been stuck to him like glue. (damn, it was a nice reprieve) Today Daddy's back to being chopped liver.
Lydia was all Mommy crazy today even after she spent very nearly EVERY WAKING MOMENT with me. In an attempt to make her giggle and distract her enough to put her down I started tossing and catching her in the air. The part where I made her giggle worked. The part where I could then place her on her own two feet did not. It's like I'd kept setting her down in a vat of hot lava the way she'd start instantly screaming. Toss, squeal, catch, giggle, down, scream, up, toss, squeal, giggle....
You get the drift.
Kyra catches sound of this and comes RUNNING with delight. MOMMY! MOMMY! DO ME! CAN YOU THROW ME?! Mind you, the child is merely 2 feet shy of being as tall as I am... which doesn't give me much leverage to catch any speed. Throwing her is like throwing a large sack of potatoes. Awkward. But I do it, because I'm an awesome mommy like that.
Then, I have a brilliant idea. I may not be able to throw her UP, but I can toss her sideways pretty well. And Jer can catch a baseball much better then I can.
So. I start chucking the kids to him. He catches. They giggle. Next one's turn.
For a half hour strait, I threw my children across the room. They loved every minute of it. And Lydia didn't even cry when she had to wait WHILE STANDING ON HER OWN TWO FEET for her turn.
Mission accomplished. Sort of.