This is the cutest thing ever! I asked my 4-year-old to take his newest plush puppy (the black and white spotted dog) to his room to "show him where he'd be sleeping with you"... and later on I walked into his room and realized he had "tucked in" both of his dog animals. They were happily sitting together, heads against the pillow, bodies tucked under the blanket... probably thinking, "we got a way better bargain with this kid than sitting on that cold shelf in the store"... assuming plush animals think...

It's barely 71 degrees and both my boys act like fish stranded on the sand for the past 6 months. I had pulled out the little plastic pool for our dogs and before I knew it both boys had their swim trunks on and dove on in! Of course there was only about 2 inches of water in it and it was full of dog hair (thanks to Charlie) and sand (thanks to Ben)... but there was no stopping them.

I'm sure I'm not the only Mom who's had this conversation in the supermarket with their child:

child: Mommy, Mommy! Can I get some of those, PLEASE?!?!
Mom: Are you going to eat them?
child: Oh yes Mommy, every day!
Mom: Are you sure you like those?
child: Oh yes, Mommy, I LOVE those! I could eat them every day at every meal! I couldn't possibly live without them!
Mom: Alright... (hesitant)

That's right folks, I fell for it again. This time I'm stuck with stick pretzels. Oh, yum. My youngest son won't touch them with a ten foot pole, and my oldest (the begger and pleader) has had about 6 out of the whole bag. Guess how many are in the bag? Around 1100. Yep, being a good economist, I went for the bigger bargain and bought the 1 1/2 lb. bag. Guess who's forced to eat them so we don't lose out on good money spent... me. *sigh* I'm dreaming pretzels in my sleep, thinking about them during tv shows... I am never buying these again, ever... I think...

This morning, as is every morning, my kids climb into bed with Daddy and "wake up" with him. They talk about their day and what has transpired during the early morning hours that Daddy has missed out on. (Mostly it's Jake complaining about something Ben did)

Then this morning I walked in right as Jake leaned really close to Daddy's ear and whispered (loudly, because as you know 4 year olds have no concept of talking quietly): "You, me and Ben are all best friends. We're best buddies."

Very cute. I'm not in the least offended that I wasn't included. It's just that I endured 25 hours of hard labor including 2 hours of pushing for this little rugrat to pop out, and I'm not included in their little trio?? But I bite my tongue, as all mother's do, and watch Daddy glow in his moment of triumph. That jerk.

I've been doing a lot of scrapbooking lately and am thoroughly enjoying it, most of the time... nevermind all the paper cuts! I've been staying up til the wee hours of the morning finishing different pages. During the day it takes me about 5 hours to finish gluing down two pieces of paper; not because I'm overly picky about the design but because my kids constantly interrupt!



Here's my drama: Cut out one 4x4 square... "Mom can I watch a show?" Put Dora in charge, return to 4x4 square. Un-twist glue stick. "Mom can I have some juice?" "Duce! Duce!" (my two-year-old chimes in). Ignore the pleas, focus on the glue stick. Glue the 4x4 to the larger paper. Try to ignore the persistant pleas of "juice" and "duce". *sigh* Give those that have apparently been wandering in the desert some apple juice.



Return to papers and cut out a different 4x4 square. "I have to go poop!" Ignore the grotesque and focus on the ribbon... "Mom! I'm going POOP!" *rolls eyes* "Thanks for sharing!" I reply. Glue new 4x4 and some ribbon on the big paper. Then, bellowing from the bathroom, "Mom! I need you to wipe my bottom." And from the living room, "More duce, peese!"



*sigh* Maybe I'll finish their baby books when they're eighteen.

I've been so sick for the past week that I can tell you from memory the number of tiles on our bathroom walls. I've used enough toilet paper to cover Rhode Island, and I've drank so much water that the Pacific Ocean has reached an all-time low. I'm now down to about 4 small meals a day, and can no longer eat dairy or drink caffeinated beverages, or eat chocolate (well, sweets in general). Thank the Lord I can still eat bread!

I'm too tired to do anything but sit around (a shower is a daunting task, and if I could pass off my stench as a new perfume... I would) My carpet is beginning to feel like I'm walking across a bowl of Frosted Flakes cereal thanks to my lack of vaccuuming. And I swear Dr. Seuss got his idea about "Horton Hears A Who" from the volume of dust that has accumulated on the tops of my furniture.

...After all this, I better be losing weight...