Is she 3 yet?

This post is dedicated to all those who currently have, have already had, or will eventually have... a TWO year old.

Some people call it creativity. Some say it's experimenting with surroundings. Some say it's being productive, while others say it's pure vision. Whatever your position, when a 2 year old sabotages YOUR things...it just seems destructive. ;)

Case in point...my favorite shoes. One of these is not like the other...anymore. (But Mommy, I needed a plate for my Barbie. Creative, right? It doesn't go back on. If we could even find it.)

And what home would REALLY be a home if it's newly painted "Celestial White" walls did not see some of this..... (visionary? Architectural blueprints for a genius magnum opus?)

Please tell me that your 2 year old does/did this too...cause for the life of me, I can not figure out why she takes the wrappers off E.V.E.R.Y time she colors. My professional opinion is...because she can. (At least she saves the trees and recycles these tiny bits. My environmental activist.)...hmmm, I just noticed her coloring page...I swear we don't buy light porno coloring books for our kids, although you might wonder with that pic...it's a princess book, that's sleeping beauty (or seeping booty in her words)...yikes.

And now, releasing the educational independence. Looks as though my 2 year old has decided that there are only 4 letters in her alphabet that really matter, and thus destroyed the rest. Our Veggie Tales ABC book now reads like this...

Lastly, after nipping my toe on something sharp, I followed a path like Hansel and Gretel's, up the stairs, down the hall and into said 2 year olds' room, right to the play kitchen. Upon opening the "cupboard door", feast your eyes on this secret endeavor...

And a close up...

And the result of her scientific light bulb smashing experiment...

God bless all the 2 year olds...

but more than that...

God bless their parents!

Welcome to my home...come on in!

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY...

Guess what day it is?

(did not...read: might have, probably...most certainly did. "Not me"...read: ok, so it was.)

*I most definitely did not sleep in and only have 10 minutes to get S ready for school, and while debating which items of our morning routine we could skip, did not choose to forgo wearing a bra and did not just chuck a jacket over my white tank top. I certainly did not show up to S's school without realizing that my jacket was half open, and absolutely did not unknowingly flash half the dad's waiting in the hallway. NOT ME!!

*On our drive to church last week (the week I was singing in the choir)with S and baby L in the van, I assuredly did not turn off the Christian music station and instead opp to CRANK up some Justin Timberlake. And when S asked, ahem, yelled, over the noise at me asking if this was Jesus music, I most positively did not tell her that it absolutely was, Jesus loves J.T!

*My instant mocha mix calls for 3 heaping teaspoons for one normal sized mug. I surely did not heap 4 TABLEspoons of mix, and then did not add another 2 teaspoons of hot chocolate mix on top of that, and then did not dash to the fridge to grab an edible oil product called Cool Whip and did not LOAD that right to the rim of my mug. And I did not moan and scream "OH YES!" like a newlywed as I drank all 10,000 calories of that deliciousness! NOT ME!

*I did not tell S & B that their Lion King and Beauty and the Beast dvd's must have grown legs and ran away as I hid them behind my back. And of course, I did not, ahem, accidentally break them in half and chuck them in the trash because they have been giving the girls nightmares. (Guess the thrift store would have been an option too, but there's just something about feeling like a rebel when you break a CD. I know. I'm hardcore.)

*Gotta LOVE when unexpected guests show up. (Read: husband has known for a week and claims he told you, yet your photographic memory that is never wrong, seems not to remember such an exchange.) I did not give our guest the "pee mattress" to sleep on, and not even feel badly when I also did not give him the matching "pee pillow". Hey, the pillowcase was clean. Sort of. I did not give him the couch to sleep on when there's a perfectly good guest room with a king sized bed upstairs because I didn't want him "in my space". I did not make a little too much noise at 6 am opening up the cereal box and clanking the bowl and spoon as to accidentally wake him up so that he would move and I could get on the computer. DEFINITELY NOT ME!!

Check back soon, for

Stay tuned for....

Where there is no room for secrets, exaggerations, or keeping up with the Jones'! You'll see it how it really is, make-up-less mornings, poo on the floor, and 2 year olds sleeping in momma's tee's cause all the jammas are dirty and laundry hasn't been done in a week. NOT ME!!!

Room 201

I am beginning to think that God must work on a rewards system with His angels, but instead of a gold star or sucker for good behavior, they get the pleasure of spending a day in room 201 in Heaven's west wing. I imagine when you walk into this honored room, it is essentially white and empty but for a round desk in the middle which, under a glass case, is on display, none other than the holy Rolodex. It holds every name of every person alive on earth at that precise moment. Maybe the four angels with the best behavior get to sit at this table and do a "Price is Right" type spin on the big wheel, and WHOOOLAH! Grab a name card, show it to one another, and then slyly grin. For, THIS is the person they get to totally MESS with for one whole day. I'm also convinced that my name is in that Rolodex about 100 more times than any other name. Well, it appears, my name came up again...today.

Friday's in our house are known more commonly as "Kira" day. We meet up with Kira (who is 3), her brother James (who is 1) and her sweet Mommy, who has become one of my favorite friends. So between the 2 of us "grown-ups" (I use that term loosely), we have 5 kids, ages 4,3,2,1 and 3 months. Oh, you should see some of the looks we get. Once, a check out lady at the local grocer asked me jokingly (I think) if they were all mine. I laughed and retorted, "Oh no, they're all HERS"...pointing to my friend.

We have done lunch Friday, and park Friday, dress-up Friday, and craft Friday, backyard Friday and movie Friday...and today, it was...mall Friday.Kira's family is getting family photos done tomorrow, so we were on a hunt to find some cute brown wintery vests for the kids.

Going to the mall...(or any public place for that matter) always entails the pre-(insert public place here)-talk with my kids. We sit in the van when we arrive, and gently bring to mind the guidelines of mall behaviour, promising a large bag of Dora rainbow sugar covered popcorn if no one is arrested, maimed, bleeding, or naked by the time we leave. (Although I know very well, that that popcorn place is the very first stop for 3 very precise, pre-planned reasons...a) keeps them occupied, b) keeps their mouths full...aka...quiet, and c) is a great thing to threaten taking away if and when questionable behaviour arises.) Will you find this technique used on Supernanny? Um, probably not...but it lets me get done what needs to get done, and I'll chose a 1 hour mall trip with 3-5 children over a 5 hour one ANY day.

After the pre-mall talk has commenced, and I am sure they have not only listened to every word, but have full intentions of obeying each one, I release the girls from their seats of constraint, and (they know the drill), direct them to place both hands on the drivers side door of the van. (You know, like a bad boy COPS episode.) This way, I know they are glued in place while I maneuver a 20 lb sleeping baby from his carseat into the baby bjorn which will successively proceed to break my weak little back. I REALLY want him to STAY sleeping, (and inform my girls of such) and know if I move juuuuust slow enough and not make any clamorous sounds, this may be possible. One arm...two arms...snore...goooood...one leg...two legs....Mommy breathe...gooooood... AHHHH!!!....WHAT ON EARTH?

Looking back now, who can REALLY expect a 2 year old NOT to scream at the top of her lungs "ECHO!! ECHO!! ECHO!!" in a cement underground parkade??! So much for sleeping. (Thank you room 201, angel #1, I presume).

We meet up at the Starbucks meeting place (a deliberate and much needed choice by the Mommies) and the timer begins. T-minus 60 minutes until baby L starts screaming for a boobie, 30 minutes until Princess B needs to go potty, and 2 minutes until all involved are thirsty, and must say so for the next 15. After a few Mommy stops, ones that I'm sure would be ranked under zero on the excitement-metor for the kids, we decide to check out the Pet Store. Always a fan favorite. It's been a while since we've been here, and I am about to be reminded why I usually have Princess B in one of those mall rent-a-strollers... you know, the ones that look like a car, that are way too wide and knock over all sorts of displays and have gooey muffin and goldfish cracker remnants all over them from the last lucky patron...yah, those. Well, they didn't have any left (thank you angel #2).

Now Princess B is walking around the pet store in what I would call complete gleeful terror. That kind of look on a kid's face that says 'I am so beyond excited at this moment that I don't know whether to scream and bang my head against the counter or flail my arms in the air and pee my pants.' I DO thank the angels that she decided against both of those choices, but I DO have a bone to pick with the one who decided that THIS was a good alternative. "B!! PUT THAT FISH BACK IN THE TANK!! RIGHT...NOW!!!" (Props to YOU, angel #3)

There were many more "thank you angels" moments in the mall, like the concentrated pounding against Old Navy's MASSIVE windows, the gargantuan alligator tears when Princess B dropped one blue ball of popcorn on the floor and was insisting we turn around to rescue the 'man overboard', Queen S practically licking the dirty, grimy, germ covered charity coin bank as she planted slobbery kisses all over it (yes, the identical one as the dog one in the grocery store a few stories back.) But all these are dull in comparison to the ride home. This was the time of the day, when all 4 angels just began whipping stuff at me for fun. And this is when all I could do was stare forward at the bumper to bumper rush hour traffic, listen to my baby wailing in the seat directly behind me, and subsequently, Princess B yelling as loud as she could, 'MOMMY THE BABY'S CRYING' over...and over...and over...and Queen S trying to sing above all the racket 'Hide it under a bush..HELL NO..I'm gunna let it shine'....did I mention the traffic...that's not moving more than an inch an hour....yes, this is the time when the tears well up...and I start laughing. Like a completely crazed lunatic. Tears pouring down now, deep wheezing gasps between breaths, and straight up gut wrenching belly laughs, spewing spit and boogers across my front windshield. (Why isn't there a wiper on the inside of the window?)

Thank you precious angels. You outdid yourselves. I hope you enjoyed the show. And if you are really good...really REALLY good, you may just get another crack at room 201, and chances are, if it's about 3 weeks from today...you'll just happen to pull my name again from that oh so holy Rolodex. Until then....it's 9pm and I'm going to bed.

It has begun.

After 6 hours of a fairly easy labor and delivery on Christmas Day, 2005, these following words brought a montage of images to the forefront of my mind of all that my future would hold...."IT'S A GIRL!!" I had once heard those words in my life, a short 22 months before, and now all I could think of and dream of was the childhood that I never knew about (until my teenage years)...one with a SISTER!

Sisters who were so close in age, I could only imagine, would unconditionally love one another, always get along, and share everything without hesitation. They would learn how to cook together (and then teach me :P), would backpack Europe together (sharing a toothbrush...ew), and be the Maid of Honor at each others wedding (sea-foam green taffeta horrific dress and all).

Now, almost 3 years after that momentous occasion, I can clearly see, I may have sucked back a wee too much of the laughing gas in that hospital delivery suite.

Do they love each other? Oh yes!
Last summer, the girls were bouncing in the blow up bouncy castle in Gramma's backyard when Princess B fell and began to cry. I looked out the window to see Queen S sit down beside her, place her arm around her and lay her head on her shoulder. She was whispering something in her ear and after that 30 second exchange, Princess B was up and bouncing again, showing off her famous mega-watt smile. I felt so proud of S for taking such good care of her sister, I stepped outside and called her over to praise her for her efforts. When she ran over, I told her she did such a great job of fixing her sister. At this, she shrugged, and stated matter-of-factly, "Yup. Guess all she needed was my booger to chew on. " ExCUSE me?

Do they always get along? Uh...if getting along entails hair-pulling, screaming matches, and toy stealing, then YES...they are GREAT at that! :P Of course there really ARE the rare moments when one or both of them will surprise you with a genuinely kind gesture. Like when Queen S was sincerely upset that she could not be a "circle" when she grew up, and Princess B brought her the lid of our raspberry jam jar (of course which is a circle), to cheer her up. Did I mention, she also took it OFF the jam jar...the glass jam jar...that fell on the kitchen floor...and broke into a million gooey red seedless sharp pieces. Good times.

Do they share everything? Hahaha. Right.
There's the twinkle light Barbie who's missing a head because B hid it on S just to spite her and now of course can not remember where she hid it. Then there's the pink princess flashlight that Gramma gave S, and B immediately loved, but S wouldn't share, so Gramma bought B the EXACT same one, and now we have 2 identical flashlights with their names permanently etched on them, all to AVOID the horrible thought of *gasp* sharing. (Don't worry, Gramma got a talking to. :P Thanks Mom. ;)) And as for the LATEST object of their melodramatic sharing escapades... his name is Angeo. *sigh* heart flutters* eyelashes batting* He has beautiful dirty blond locks and big gorgeous eyes, and did I mention he speaks 2 languages...HELLO!!! :P According to S, she is in love, and according to B, he is HER prince.

Two weeks ago, we were going to have a Bible study at Angeo's parent's place, and the plan was to have the girls in the playroom, watching some good ol Veggie Tales during this time. That afternoon, S informed me that if we were going to Angeo's, she couldn't go without bringing him cookies. So, I put a few Oreo's in a ziplock and gave them to her. She looked up at me with only what I can describe as utter disgust, and said, "These are not good enough for MY Angeo. I have to MAKE him some." Lucky for her, I am a *always* a patient Mommy, and lucky for me, I just happen to have half a bag of cookie mix left. An hour later, with the smell of home-made cookies filling our house, the phone rang. The Study was cancelled. Oh crap. When I told S we in fact would NOT be going over to Angeo's that night, she proceeded to try and "help" me fix the situation.

"Couldn't you just have a *little* meeting mom?"
~Hunny, the other people can't make it tonight, so we'll have to do it next week.
"Could maybe just YOU go to the meeting?"
~Babe, there IS no meeting to go to, it's not happening anymore.
"But maybe if YOU go, then the meeting will still happen?"
~Sugar, you are going to have to wait to see Angeo on another day. I'm sorry.
"But my cookies Mommy!! They'll go all MOLDY!"

Ok, so that cracked me up... and we just couldn't have moldy cookies, so I called Angeo's Mommy, and since they only live a few streets down, we decided S could bring her love gift to her beau. When I disclosed to S the good news, she bolted upstairs before I could even finish my sentence. When she returned, she had on a brown cord dress (which was a tad too small), and her hair was in a messy ponytail with 3 butterfly clips and her favorite sparkly headband. She did a quick twirl, stated, "Angeo will think I am beautiful in this," grabbed her little container of *mold-free* cookies, and skipped out the door.

Princess B, not to be upstaged, is constantly coloring pictures of "An-gee-doe", and talking on her princess phone to Angeedoe, and asking how many more sleeps till we see Angeedoe again. We celebrated Thanksgiving this weekend (yup, we're Canucks), and as per tradition, as we sat around the dinner table which was adorned with all the trimmings which I slaved all day to prepare (haha, sorry, laughing hard at that one....thank you perogies and corn on the cob :P), we go around the table saying what we are thankful for.

Daddy started with the usual...you know, mac computers and dirt bikes...oh and family too. Then, he broke into song. I'm not kidding. If you know King Daddy G, this might not surprise you. If you don't yet have the pleasure of knowing him, you might think he's fruity. Well, when I say song...it's not like Sound of Music style... it's more like The Wiggles kids program meets MC Hammer meets the the Gaithers. Quite *ahem* unique. Well, throughout this whole spectacle, I can see that B's wheels are turning as to what she will say when it's her turn. Once the home musical tones down, the spotlight is directed at her. She immediately feels the pressure of being on the spot and is deciding whether she really wants to cast her pearl in front of all to see...after looking at Mommy to the right, and then slowly turning her head and seeing Daddy on the left, she then turns her stare directly across the table from her at Queen S. Upon seeing her there, she raises her head high, collecting her new found confidence and states boldly, pronouncing every syllable, "AN-GEE-DOE. I am thankful for Angeedoe." Feeling quite proud of herself, she leans her back against her chair as to pass the baton to Mommy, because she has nothing more to say.

Later that night, at bedtime, Queen S and I were saying her bedtime prayers. Every night we say one thing we thank Jesus for, one thing we are asking Jesus for and one thing we are sorry to Jesus for. When we got to the last one, S's voice was quiet and reflective, and she said solemnly, "I'm sorry I was mad at Bree for taking mine." For taking your what, I asked? "For taking mine Angeo. That's what I was going to say, and (at this point her voice got quite a bit louder) she stole him!" She then lowered her head and said she was sorry and that she will try better to share him.

Oh. My.

It has begun.

I've heard your 3 year old is your 13 year old.
Wow.
This is going to be fun.

The book with a Face

Ok, I'll admit it. I'm not a Facebook junkie like the other 33+ million people living in this bless-ed northern country. I do HAVE a Facebook, but lemme tell you why.
Do I REALLY need to know what Sally said to Ronnie, her highschool BFF who stole her senior crush two days before prom? 15 years ago. In rural Saskatchewan. Where her graduating class only consisted of her, Ronnie, and said crush? As fascinating as all this real life soap opera stuff is, like a friend of mine has said, Facebook is like a 10 (20 if you're old like my hubby) year reunion that just never ends! There is a GOOD reason why real life reunions are only for a day. Say the awkward hi to her (who gained 20 pounds) and him (who lost 20 pounds) and her (who is eating 20 pounds of the salsa dip at the snack table) then move on with your life, just like you were without the hers and hims and hers that made your life so eventful oh so many years previously.
When Facebook first came "on the market" (you know, back when Myspace was the thing), I DID jump on the bandwagon and see how many friends I could rack up, even going as far as "stealing" some of my hubby's "friends", just to make my tally higher. We had an unspoken competition going on...who had more friends...even if by friends we meant bombarding the garbage pick up guy, the grocery check out lady and the kids sunday school teacher with friend requests. Are they REALLY *friends*?? Nah, but I have 657 of them and you are only at 625, so I win. In these beginning days, I remember putting up a *status update* that said something like "Becky is sad." Well within 10 minutes, I had 12 complete strangers, one who is oober creepy too, make comments like, "So sorry my friend", "awwww, what's up?"& my favorite..by creepy dude.... "Poor you, wanna talk about it?" WHA? Talk about it...with YOU...spanner263....whoever you are? I'll pass.
This brings me to what I actually DO like about facebook now. The status updates. I closed down that first account (782 friends an all), and started a new one, under an alias that no one could find me at unless I wanted them to, and now have 22 friends. People I know, and who I am actually interested in knowing random things about. My favorite thing to do in the morning is to grab a hot chocolate, open up facebook and read all of my friends' status updates. One or 2 sentences to describe what's going on with them. I don't need a book or a 2 hour conversation, just one line to tell me you just made peanut butter cookies. Or that you partied last night like it was 1999 and now you are paying for it this morning. Great!! I enjoy seeing a good creative status just like the next person...

1. (name) childproofed his house, but they still get in.
2. (name) is still hot. It just comes in flashes.
3. (name) thinks at her age, "getting lucky" means finding her car in the parking lot.
4. (name)'s reality cheque just bounced.
5. (name) is not 50. I'm $49.95 plus tax.
6. (name) says Buckle up. It makes it harder for the aliens to snatch you from your car.
7. (name) is not a snob. I'm just better than you are.
8. (name) says keep staring....I may do a trick.
9. (name) is DANGEROUSLY under-medicated.
10. (name) washes her mouth out with chocolate every time she hears the word "exercise".

So there you have it, I don't really post pictures, or write long journal entries or care what you think about Jono's new guitar case, but I DO stalk your status updates. So if you love Jono's guitar case in your status...then I retract that last comment...I DO care.

Reason #5

Pros and cons for baby #4. Ooooooohhhhh boy, I heard the *gasps* from all around the planet on that one. FOR the record...
a)NO, we are not pregnant...
b)NO, we are not TRYING to end up that way...
c)NO, we don't want anymore babies and
d)NO, King Daddy G wouldn't COMPLETELY kill me if he knew I wasn't 100% sure on item c). (Ok, he probably would kill me. But that's why this is MY blog. Me.....me me me me me. :P He'll have to sign into the seniors blogging center if he wants to blogdebate me...ooo, that sounds fun, possibly a new wii game? Ok, I digress.)

PROS:
I hear if you have 4, you get to go on Oprah and she will pay for all your living expenses

...oh...wait...disclaimer says they all have to be born at the same time. Stupid small print.

We would qualify for Costco's Superdome 6 person tent!!

It sounds much more exciting than it really is. What's that? It doesn't even SOUND exciting? SUPERDOME! TENT! Ok, you're right, not exciting.

We could be the first all family olympic volleyball team to bring home the gold! Oh, just saw that minimum competition age is 16...so when new baby X is 16, that'd make King Daddy G...um...104? Riiight, not the most PERFECT competing age range, but all the same, his walker could come in handy for some killer spikes.


If baby X decides to come out with a twig & berries, then we would have 2 boys and 2 girls, which makes us the perfect all american family...times 2, without a white picket fence, or a bar-b-q, or a mailbox at the end of our driveway shaped like a house with a red/white & blue flag waving from it's chimney, oh and we're not american.


CONS:
Apparently to have a baby, you have to go through 9 months of pregnant hell, er, I mean bliss first. Even the virgin Mary didn't get to skip THAT part.

Huh...come to think about it...that really should have been part of the deal in MY humble opinion. Maybe just 2 weeks of pregnancy for her. I mean c'MON people, she didn't even get to DO IT! Give the girl a "get out a jail free" card for pete's sake!

911 might make me pay for the increase in calls from random people who see me walking down the street with one in a front pack, one in a back pack, one in a stroller and one riding a bike in front of me, THINKING I have been the most recent victim of a baby gang attack. (Especially with all the flailing of limbs and screams for Starbucks.)


Chances are, my greediness for just ONE more, would land me like THIS.....

Because that's what SHE said..."We have 2, I'd just like ONE more"...mmmm hmmm. One set of sextuplets and 8 kids later....can I hear PSYCH WARD calling?

Well, for today, it seems that the cons have won. Heck, that last pic is enough to send me to the nunnery! 6 toddlers...*shudder*...Stay tuned, as you never know if the pros might win on a different day, or year, or life!

We have now reached the Bloggisphere.

Here I am blogger world!! I know you've ALL been eagerly anticipating this moment, as I have made you wait a long time for this magical unveiling. A blog. MY blog. What more could a busy mother of 3 want than something else to try to fill her time and then make her feel guilty when there's yet again, not enough hours in the day to complete everything on the to-do list(s). So glad I signed up. :) And of course the REAL selling point is that this is the place, the ONE place in the whole world...that's all about ME. Me, me me. How fun. I feel 5 again already. Now where's my tiara??! Well, what better way to begin this wondrous journey than to introduce you, through amusing anecdotes, to the 4 reasons why my heart beats every day, why I get out of bed in the morning (literally).

Reason #1: (G)
Tall, dark and handsome...need I say more. In fact, this one I'm usually not getting OUT of bed for. :P I met him one dark and stormy night, he was riding his valiant steed and I....wait...no...that's not right...oh RIGHT...it was a huMOUNGous gray Buick that graced my driveway. (One that, little did I know at the time, I would be receiving 3, yes THREE separate tickets for parallel parking too far from the curb. I plead the 5th.) To say we took our time getting to know each other, dating for years just to bring us to the engagement day where everyone was saying, "It's about TIME!" well...that would just be a complete lie. In fact, when I told my best friend that I was engaged, I think his exact words were..."TO WHO??" And shortly after that, 4 months to be exact, my happily ever after began. There's no one in the world who loves me more than this man. I know this beyond a shadow of a doubt, because he's seen me direct explosive diarrhea into a Tim Horton's cup in the front seat of our moving car while two toddlers scream their heads off in the back...and he's still here. A rare jewel for sure!

Reason #2: (S)
After 31 hours of torturous labor, this amazing red headed wonder arrived and I turned to reason#1 and said, I SWEAR SHE'S YOURS! I was not aware red hair is in both our families. She is now 4 and a half. I have a million stories I could tell you about her, but if I had to chose one to really show you who she is, it would be this one. She found a quarter under the couch. (Must have been that ONE random day when my house wasn't immaculately lemony fresh.) She had a rampage of ideas bombard her little brain as to what she could possibly buy with this prized treasure. A gumball? A bouncy ball? A rice cake? (No joke.) She guarded her fortune all through preschool, and was ready to see what the grocery store had to offer. We walked in, and I could sense her excitement might just explode if we waited until after I conquered my list of 4000 items before discovering what lucky piece of 25 cent junk would become her newest object of affection. We walked about 7 steps when she announced, "WAIT!" Her eyes were HUGE with a heavenly revelation of what she wanted to do with her money. At that moment, she ran back to the entrance of the store, where standing, waiting to receive her offering, was a moneybank in the shape of a dog that belonged to the local animal shelter. Like a scene from a movie unfolding before me, this little child took all that was precious to her in that moment, bowed her head toward the dog, slipped her coin in, and said, "For the sick puppies Mommy." Sigh. Don't ask me how to raise a child who does this. I have no idea.

Reason #3: (B)
After 6 hours of convincing myself that I wasn't really in labor, my second darling baby girl decided to arrive...backwards. Yeah. Butt first. On Christmas Day. Christmas DAY. Looking back now, I wouldn't expect anything BUT a bizarrely melodramatic entrance for her. She continues to do most things "backwards" in the world's standards, and is the most adventurous, scientific, moody drama queen of the bunch. While her sister dons a Cinderella princess dress, she will also put one on (to be JUST like her) but will pull the arms down to make it a sassy off the shoulder number and have her Home Depot kids tool belt underneath.The other day, we were having a discussion about possible career paths (doctor, lawyer, dentist...anything to support parents in their old age is always welcomed)...well, after much thought, she finally decides to be a horse when she grows up. Great. A horse. Not sure what the pension plans are like for horses.

Reason #4: (L)
5 hours of labor that involved a birth pool in my dining room, a squat stool, a couch, some peach popsicles and Gatorade ice cubes, Mr. L was born right in my living room weighing in at 10 pounds even. He is the newest one to the clan, being just days over 3 months old. Yet somehow...my professional opinion is, that he must have sucked REALLY hard while nursing and just happened to suck my heart right out, because I am telling you people, he's got it. Do I ENJOY waking up every 1-3 hours at night...not really...but do I enjoy seeing his megawatt smile every 1-3 hours at night...you better believe I do! Once I'm out of my delirious stupor, I just stare at him. I still feel euphoric from the day he was born. He's the perfect completion to our family and I look forward to sharing him with you as he grows into the little...whatever..he will become!

That's the Reader's Digest version. You'll get to know me more through the context of these fabulous blessings..so...let the blogging games begin!!

Love & Laughs,
~Becky