Parents have selective memory. My mom claims my brother and I never woke eachother up while sharing a small Manhattan bedroom. Really? Because I call bullshit on that. My kids wake eachother up every second. It’s become their favorite pasttime. The second that Gemma asks to have her feet tucked in (or to turn the light on, or to cover up her dollies, etc), Rafi pops up and starts wailing. This happens throughout the night. Jon and I want to hurl ourselves (or at times one another) out the window. I’m all for self-empowerment and suggested we convert the TV room back into the third bedroom. So now I’m in decorating mode. Splashy and fun, I want some color like this groovy chair for Raf while she cries herself silly. Or should I say, sleeps peacefully in silence….