Crib climber

It's taken him longer to master the skill than it took Jack, but Charlie is now my second escape artist. 

I was getting Jack to sleep the other night and heard the door open but thought it was Travis. But then I saw my clone standing in the hall. I took him back to his crib, and this is how the next 10 minutes went. 

I kept talking through the monitor telling him to lay down. He would for 5 seconds. Then he'd try to get out again. He finally gave up and had a jumping party before he fell asleep. I have no doubt in my mind, the very second these two thrill-seekers are old enough to do an activity without a parent's permission, they will be jumping out of a plane, off a bridge with a single ankle strap, parasailing through a city, scaling walls. 

They're W. I. L. D. 

All the live-long day, Jack and Charlie are climbing, jumping, flipping, and running. I love it about them, but it would help if the weather was about 30 degrees, uh, warmer? (No, because that would get us to about 26 degrees). Ok, 50 degrees warmer. So we could stay outside for longer than two minutes and get this energy out without breaking one more lamp shade, picture frame, or sentimental item. 

My barefoot adventurers. My little arrows. They get it honest. Since I was riding roller coasters at Disney when I was unknowingly pregnant with Jack. And finishing a 5K when Charlie was 9 weeks in the belly. Cliff-jumping in college. Skydiving when we got engaged. Whitewater rafting. Zip lining. More rollercoasters. High ropes course. Kayaking. 

Ok, I'm sure I climbed my crib, too.

Time to take the front rail off.