Home

Wellllll, I clearly needed to get that off my chest yesterday. I feel much better! And also, I am no longer fantasizing about kicking soccer balls into my dad's head. Progress!

We got home Tuesday night around midnight. I'd say that the length of our trip was about right- we were there 12 days- enough time to do all of the things we wanted to do and see all of the people we wanted to see.

Usually when we visit my family, David mopes around saying he's bored. He was very trepiditious of spending so much time there on this trip. I instituted the "Schedule of Fun"- a calendar of each day's plans. Before we left, we had a "family meeting" (my kids eat that sh*t up), and made a list of all the things we wanted to do. Our list included places we wanted to go (Mt. Rushmore, hiking) as well as more minor plans (baking with Grandma, riding in Uncle Kiner's truck). We were able to fill in the calendar from our list.

This turned out to be very helpful. David knew what to expect each day, and where there was free time to do other things, like go biz-carting with my brother. The rest of my family knew our plans, and joined us whenever their schedules allowed. Additionally, it was very clear which days we were spending with my mom and which days with my dad, eliminating any hard feelings or disappointment.

I should add that while things ended on a sour note with my dad, the first week was perfectly pleasant. So his behavior did not ruin our trip by any means. We had a really good vacation- lots of family time, some kickin' photos of ourselves balanced on mountain tops, and lots of time with people we don't get to see much.

But now we are home, at it feels great. It feels even better now that we are all unpacked (!! I know, an amazing accomplishment here in the Green household), and our house is cleaned- including the 2 inches of crushed acorns that make their way into our family room, and that we did not clean up before we left. I'd say yesterday was productive.

Next up- some photos of our trip, Camp Sue, and the accelerated end to summer.

Memo

(This is a rant. You have been warned.)

To: Dad and Mel
From: Marie and family
RE: How to treat us when we drive 550 miles to visit you

Dad-
I thought you'd been on the planet enough years to figure out the following, but your recent actions have proven me wrong. Here is an instruction guide, for your future use.

-When you ask if my twins can spend the night with you, and I pack them up and drive 45 minutes from Mom's place to yours, DO NOT leave 12 seconds after supper to go to Mel's kid's soccer game. For one, it's rude to leave guests sitting around at your place. Also, you see this kid EVERY WEEK, and you only see us a few times a year, so um? Priorities?

-In fact, the soccer thing in general really stings, for me and all of your children. Mel's son has a soccer game 3x's a week- and you go to EVERY GAME. My sister, your daughter, had a weekly softball game all summer and you went how many times? That's right. ZERO. Do you see how your "devotion" to this kid is insulting to the rest of us? Especially me and my family, who never get to spend time with you?

-Your girlfriend, Mel, can stop humping my leg anytime now. It's not going to make me like her more. In fact, it tempts me to kick her.

-When your grandchild, June, has her baptism and first birthday party, it is not acceptable for you to show up for 1 hour and then LEAVE to go to SOCCER, skipping the birthday party all together. Again, it makes all of us feel like you are choosing Mel's kid over your own. I think it was wise to not bring Mel to the baptism, but it wouldn't kill either of you to spend a day apart. As for her feeling "left out"- a) no one said she couldn't come and b) sometimes there are consequences for one's actions. The two of you having an affair while still married has consequences- like not being able to be joined at the hip for certain family gatherings. Yes, the choices the two of you made DO have lasting effects on many people.

Mel-
-Please stop humping my leg. It makes me feel weird.

-I will put up with you smothering my children- children you barely know- with kisses and whatever, if you will allow my dad to spend time with us when he has the chance. Instead of staying home "feeling left out" from the baptism, tell him "Go, be with your family today. I'll be fine." Say, "You belong with your kids today. Have fun." Do not say "Be home in one hour so we can go to the soccer game." GO BY YOURSELF FOR ONCE.

-If you invite my children to spend the night, do NOT encourage my father to leave with you for an 8pm soccer game minutes after we arrive. Instead, go BY YOURSELF.

-Do not tell my children they smell like pee. Yes, they do sleep in pull-up and pee while sleeping, but that's why I pack baby wipes. Please don't bathe them, and I repeat, do not tell them they smell like pee.

-Also, while we are on the subject of Inappropriate Things Said By Mel, please refrain from telling my sister that she's gained weight. I cannot think of a single earthly reason why this would be considered acceptable.

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So, while we're on the bright and shiny subject of my dad, let's play a game! My dad knows I am upset with him. After he left the baptism to go to soccer, knowing that it pissed us all off, he hasn't contacted me since. That was Saturday. He has no idea when we are going home and has not attempted to call me to find out if we can see each other one more time before we leave. Instead, knowing him like I do, he's waiting for me to call him. I'm mad, and rightfully so, so I'm not going to call him.

So, Dad, the ball is in your court. How many days of silence on my end will it take for you to get the guts to pick up the phone and call me? We'll call today Day 1, even though it's been 4 days since I've talked to you...

I Have Blogger Spacing Issues!

When I write my posts, I have the spacing just how I want it, all neat and spiffy and perfect. Then I push publish and the &%$@ blogger adds spaces all over the place. Will I ever stop being pissed off by this? No, I will not. Will I ever break into the HTML world enough to figure it out myself? Maybe, but wouldn't that be letting Blogger win?

Too Many Posts Swirling In My Head To Title This One

Here's the posts I've been wanting to write the last few days:


Post 1: We're Outta Here!


It's a miracle. We left for our trip to South Dakota without getting into a fight. This is rare in the Green household- both the fighting and the leaving without fighting. But we did it, and boy oh boy was it hard on my part, not to get all ugly and bossy and mean with David. David and I have very different senses of time, urgency, and prioritizing. We also have individually assigned tasks for preparing to leave: I get the laundry done, the lists made, the kids and myself packed, and the other errands/miscellaneous tasks done before we leave. David works at his job like a mad man, doing a couple of weeks of work in a couple of days. He also has to pack for himself and load the car. By the time the Morning Of Leaving comes around, I'm usually stressed because of the 340284 things running through my head that still need to get done or get packed, plus I'm getting all three kids ready, plus feeding them and cleaning up the kitchen, plus getting myself ready, plus going through all my lists to see what else needs to be done/packed etc. David needs to get dressed, eat, and load the car. Oh, and clip his toenails.



Yep, that's right Ladies and Gentlemen, we're leaving for a 12 day trip, there is about a billion things left to do, and HE'S CLIPPING HIS TOENAILS. Do you have any idea how much will power it took NOT to comment? But I didn't. I just kept doing my thing, being kind to my husband, being cheerful to the kids. I was so proud of myself. We left a good 2 hours later than we had planned, but the toenails were clipped, and we left as a happy family. Success.



Post 2: Smooth Travels


We got to South Dakota- a 550 mile trip- without a single hitch. My kids are rock stars in the car. Rock. Stars. Not a single problem. We've travel so much with them, and usually road trips, so they are used to it. Also, letting them watch DVDs on our laptop sure helps the time pass. And the DO need Dramamine, to help with the carsickness. It's not my fault that it also causes drowsiness! Marin also was delightful in the car. She got a little fussy the last hour or so, but I sat next to her and kept the squalling at bay. We only stopped 2 times the whole day. Can you believe it? 2 stops? In a 9 hour trip? We left around 9 am and arrived about 6pm.


We pulled up to my mom's house about 5 minutes LITERALLY before a nasty storm hit. The sirens were going off, the sky was a eerie shade of green, and it hailed a bit. Nearby areas had baseball sized hail. They also closed I-90, the freeway we drove on ALL DAY, due to hail blasting out windshields in vehicles. They had to do storm clean-up with snow plows.

I know, we had kicking timing.


We feel very lucky.


It's so good to be here. The air here is fresh, piney. It smells like home.



Post 3: What We've Been Up To (Alternate title: Your Guide To Black Hills Vacations, Part 1)


Here's our clip board of fun so far:

Saturday- David and I headed out to the awesome bike trail that they have in Rapid City to do our jogging. I've missed the bike trail. It's a happy place.


We spent the afternoon at Storybook Island. Kate and Joan are the perfect age for this place. My mom, my brother, David, and I had a great time watching them explore this childhood wonderland. And it free. F-R-E-E.

David and I went on a date on Saturday night. We ate at The Firehouse Brewing Company. I used to wait tables there in college, so it's always a fun place to revisit. Also, the food is excellent.

Sunday- We met up with my dad. Since his separation with my mom, he lives in a log house out in the hills, with his girlfriend. His girlfriend is ok, as far as girlfriends of fathers go. I've finally decided what it is about her that is so annoying. You know how little dogs show their submission to bigger dogs- laying on their backs, panting, and begging "Please love me. Please. Please. Please." Well, that's what Girlfriend is like- submissive, too agreeable, to passive. I hate it. I think I would like her so much more if she had... personality? opinions? a spine?

Anyway, we went out to their place, which is in a beautiful location near Sheridan Lake. We took the girls into Hill City to the Thomas the Train, visiting at the 1880's train. Rip off. Seriously, if Thomas visits a train station near you, honk at him from the road and keep driving.


After dinner, David, my dad, and I hiked up a huge cliff overlooking my dad's house. When I say "hiked", I mean "blazed our own goddamn trail straight up the mountain". It was ridiculously steep. We were crawling over downed trees and stumps and ourselves. It was nearly too steep to do without climbing gear. When we got to the top, the view was beautiful. It was worth it. As we headed down, my dad found tiny mountain lion tracks. When I say tiny, I mean "bigger than my effing head". By now it was dusk and we were alone on a mountain, trying to get down before it complete darkness. Thanks Dad, I was satisfied enough with trying to survive the descend without becoming a rolling cartoon blur of limbs and tree branches and pine needles all rolled into one. Now I needed to watch my back too, for the mountain lion that was most certainly following us, eyeing up the satisfyingly plump lady at the rear of the hikers. Thanks.

Yesterday, after Joan and Kate stayed overnight with my dad and Girlfriend, we headed up to Sylvan Lake, one of the most beautiful places in Custer State Park. We had a lovely day at the lake. I will be sure to post pictures of this place soon. We ate dinner at the Sylvan Lake Resort, with a breathtaking view of Harney Peak in the distance. All in all, it was a perfect day in the Hills.


We have many more tourist spots on our list, so you can look forward to MORE Black Hills vacation tipz. I know you're excited. (Pictures to follow.)

Also, East Coast Anne? Germany Mom? Are you reading? Because I'm thinking of you ALL THE TIME. Wish you were here! Also, Germany Mom, I ran into Jeri at Target. She said hello, Marie, and just kept talking on her phone. She talked and talked and talked. And I was like, get off the phone already, I'd like to catch up with you. But she didn't. She just kept talking- small talk, I should add- it did not sound at all urgent. So I was a bit hurt. Weird. Does she live here now or was she visiting her folks too? Just wondering.

So that's what's been buzzing around in my head lately. This blogging thing, it's totally addicting. I can't stop. Anyone else constantly thinking of blog posts in their head, or am I just unhealthily obsessed? (Please don't answer that honestly.)

Life With Twins, Part 2

The Benefits Of Twins

Twins tend to be so fascinating for so many people, so when I started blogging I thought I'd write more about them. However, it is so normal for us that I rarely think to write about it. (You can read Part 1 here.)

Having two babies the same age was challenging in many ways. Many Ways. But I think that having twins is sometimes easier than having 2 siblings really close together. At least with twins they are- usually- on the same eat/nap/play/bedtime schedule. Also, they are developmentally doing (about) the same things, so their needs are more similar than, say, a newborn and a 15 month old (Hi Erin!).

Other advantages of having twins became apparent as the girls grew. Since they've always had each other to play with, I've spent very little time entertaining them. I read to them often, and we snuggle, and play games. But then they disappear into their own world, sometimes for hours at a time. (As I write this, they are playing on the floor next to me. They have squabbled a few times, but mostly have spent the last hour entertaining themselves.) I feel the same way as Me
Today does about playing make believe games for kids. My mind gets all restless and wander-y after just a few minutes. There's always so much more I could be doing. Having twins has left me with much more time for things like reading (my OWN books)- I can do this while "hanging out" near the kids while they play.

Enter Marin. Her sleep issues are complex and exhausting and I've already blogged about it a few times, so I'll leave it at that. (David wants to nickname her "Marin *UP* all night"- cue perky Rhonda Shear voice). Swistle described our issues perfectly in her post yesterday, just add in "talking to each other harshly and inappropriately in the middle of the night", and that pretty much sums it up.

Anyway, in addition to not letting me sleep, Marin has been rising for the day around 6am. I could get used to this if I were more rested, but on my current "25 seconds of sleep at a time" plan it is very difficult to be awake at this hour. Painful even. So David and I have been taking turns getting up with her and heading straight to the family room couch, plopping Marin next to her toys on the way.

With Kate and Joan, this would have worked fine. In a similar situation, they would have played happily while we caught a few more winks. Not so with Marin. This morning, she stood next to the couch where I was desperately trying to sleep and crowed at me. "Mom! Mommy! I'm bored! Play with me! Look at my paci! I'm going to bang you with my paci! I'm going to bang you with my head!" And on and on. Since Joan and Kate were up late last night (fishing, with Daddy, Grandpa George, and cousin Allen), they were still sleeping. I was half awake and trying to interest her in the toys, but it would only last a few seconds and then she was back. "Mommy! I'm bored! I'm going to bang, bang, bang you with this plastic carrot! And with my head!"

So David? This is another reason that Marin needs a little sister or brother. Because I'm a crappy playmate, even when I'm more rested. OK?

The Lead Crutch

So all this talk of lead paint and toy recalls brought back this memory:

When Kate and Joan were in the thick of the terrible 3's (worse than 2's by far), their behavior became so awful that David and I did not know what to do. We were working our little parenting hearts out, trying to be patient, kind, good parents, only to be met with rudeness, screaming, flailing, and gnashing of teeth.

My parenting libido was sagging badly. I often looked at these children with complete awe. Who were these monsters? How is it possible that these screeching banshees were MY children. The icing on the cake was when I watched a home movie of them at age 2. They were so cute and sweet and pink cheeked. It felt like a punch in the gut- seeing how those cherub hairless two-year-olds had transformed. (Into nearly-as-hairless and not at all sweet or pink cheeked three-year-olds.)

See? Hairless. Not even enough for a barrette.

This is when I came up with my new theory: My kids must have lead poisoning. Yep. Had to be. After all, we had just moved to a new (old) house. We knew that certainly, at some point in its lifetime, lead paint was used. So that was that. My kids were the way they were (read: more disturbingly screamy than one can imagine) because of LEAD, not because of my parenting.

So as it turns out, brattiness is not a symptom of lead poisoning. Har, har, har. Rookie mistake. (Why then, last night when Marin refused to sleep: fussed, tossed, turned, and used her head as a cranial wrecking ball, did I contemplate it- maybe she can't sleep because she has lead poisoning...) (But hey, silver lining- when we go to SD on Friday her sleeping schedule won't get messed up... because she DOESN'T HAVE ONE.)

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The spacing is still all wacky whenever I add pictures. Your advise to solve this problem the last time I asked was much to HTML-y for my... abilities. So. The spacing will continue to be screwy. (For example, there should be a space between the first 2 paragraphs- "My parenting libido..." is a new paragraph. But no. matter. what. I. do. it won't post that way. Not to mention that everything is single spaced, when I didn't even know that was an option. I give up.)

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OMG. We leave for SD on Friday, as in two days from now. But never fear, the laundry is done, the bags are packed, the paper has been stopped, and we are ready to hit the road. This is why I have PLENTY of free time for blogging.

Oh, wait. I haven't done a Single Thing to get ready to leave. That was funny though- us being all packed 2 days early. I know David will crack up, too, when he sees how much I have not yet done. So! Funny!

Slice of... Breastmilk?

Because it's just too slick not to share, here it is. Developed by David Green himself: The Green Family Breastmilk Storage System. (I know, you're totally excited. Me too!)

Step one: Pump milk.

Step two: Pour milk into plastic storage bag. (I like the Lansinoh brand- they are a thicker plastic, have double zippers, and a nice place on the tab- instead of on the baggie- to record date and amount.)

Step three: Place bags of milk on a flat surface in the freezer. We use a little piece of cardboard.

Step four: When frozen, take your slender volume of breast milk and file it in your card catalog, by date. We use an old ice cream container to organize our frozen milk.

Step five: When it comes time to thaw milk, select baggie (by date, using oldest first) and run under hot water. Since the milk is frozen in such a thin layer, it will thaw and heat quickly under hot water, shortening the time you have to make a fussy baby wait.

David developed this system for two reasons. First, the thin "slices" of milk are so much easier to store than the little blobs of frozen milk. So freeaing them flat works perfect. They take up so much less space this way. Second, the milk thaws so quickly this way, and since a nursing baby is not used to waiting for a bottle to warm, this made life much easier for David. If you try to thaw breast milk that is frozen in a plastic or glass bottle of some kind, it will take forever to melt the frozen core. In a plastic bag, David can use his fingers to move the milk around, which helps to speed the thawing process.

While I do much sighing and eye rolling when it comes to David's detailed way of life, I do find that this system to be genius. (Know what I hate about the word genius? I hate that no matter how many years I spend on this planet I cannot spell genius. No matter how I spell it, it looks wrong. Then I spell check it, and I'm still not sure I have it right. Which is pretty ironic, and completely idiotic, to be using the word genius, but misspelling it. This irony describes many areas of my life, come to think of it.) Anyway, as I was saying, David detailed side balances my own personal philosophy, which is: Do it as quickly as possible, even if it's sloppy, but just GET IT DONE. Deal with the consequences of the sloppiness later. This is a philosophy that I follow faithfully, followed by my other motto: Do it later.

So David and me, we are the yin and yang of things. Which is the way it should be... right?

Wanderlust

I just finished Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Loved. So good. Want to go to Italy, India, and Indonesia now.

Actually, I want to go just about anywhere. I'm even itching to move, change scenery, do something new and exciting. I need adventure.

We are planning a "vacation" out to the Black Hill of SD. We'll be gone for about 11 days. But I grew up there. So there will be lots of time away from home... but in a place that I already know forward and backwards.

(I'm still looking forward to our trip though. It'll be nice to have so many other adults around. I plan on reading and relaxing and just enjoying being with my family.)

But THEN, I still have the desperate desire to go someplace new, do some exploring. I don't even think a vacation is what I'm longing for. I guess I'm just feeling tied down, like all of life's big decisions have been made and this is what my life will be for at least the next 20 years. While I am mostly very content with how our life is here in Tiny Town, sometimes I am struck with the overwhelming WANT of moving someplace new- with now having so many responsibilities and so many people that my decisions would effect. Elizabeth Gilbert got to spend a year- a WHOLE YEAR- "discovering" herself. I don't see myself getting a week, or even a weekend, to myself. And this full life of kids and love and snuggles and bedtime stories is so satisfying, most of the time... Well, I guess I'm missing FREEDOM.

Ya know?

Little Turkey

So remember how Marin is up A TON at night lately [Read just about any of July's posts]? And remember how calm I was about it? And did I mention how nice to her I am? All the time? Day OR night?

And I have mentioned that she has basically spent the last 10 months nursing every two hours, around the clock? As is it clear how patient I am with her, how much I've let her lead the way with when and where she nurses?

Because all of those things are true. I've really enjoyed her babyhood; I've been nuturing and kind to her every second of her life, even when I was dead tired. Becasue she's a BABY and BABIES have needs. And I'm fine with that. This is how it should be.

But.

When David gets home from work, Marin is excited to see him. She reaches for him. I hand her over. She grins. I grin. David grins. Then David says, "Here, take her for a minute. I want to [insert whatever here: change clothes, wash hands, check email, label socks etc]" So I take her back. And she SCREAMS. She goes into her "I'm not going to breathe" cry, where her lips turn blue and everything. Confused, I hand her back to David. She INSTANTLY stops crying, takes a few ragged gulps of air, and stares at me. Evil crazy woman, taking me from my daddy, the love of my life. HOW DARE YOU????

Truthfully, I think this is funny and cute. Suprisingly, I'm not jealous, just amused. AND it makes the whole night weaning thing easier. OK, you love Daddy so much- love him in the middle of the night. See how much milk HE has for you. A-HAAAHAAAHAAA!

Can We Just Change The Name?

I've just completed week 1 of the C25K program, and I've told a few people about it. The thing is, the more I say the name "Couch to 5K", the more it chafes me. I mean, I'm not a runner by any stretch of the imagination (yet!) (ok, you can stop laughing now), but I'm certainly no couch potato.

With three children under age 5 in my household, I'm hardly vegging on the sofa much. (I wish!) I do sometimes take a nap while the twins are "resting" (read: watching a movie) and the baby is sleeping. BUT, the rest of the day we're busy. All day.

So let's change the name! Like, "Standing hours each day washing dishes to 5K." Or "Chasing around a baby and keeping her from putting small objects in her mouth while also reffing one ever loving fight after another from the big kids to 5K." Or simply, "I don't have any bleeping time to exercise because I'm a mom to 5K". (Or, "I'm going to stop blogging so much to 5K".)

I know the program probably does attract some honest-to-goodness couch potatoes, but you guys! That's not us. Every one that I know of that is doing the program along side of me are all moms. (Ahem, and bloggers. So I guess I should say "know" since I don't actually KNOW any of you. Or do I? How do we refer to our "friends" out in blogland? This has come up a little lately. Like, I'll be saying "I'm starting a running program with... um... some people I know." Because I don't want to admit the people I know are people on line. Because that just seems all nerdy, Everquesty, never see the light of day-ish. It seems all, I met the love of my life in a chat room and we're meeting in Vegas to get married- ish. Ya know?)

Anyway, where was I? Yeah, all moms. The idea that Moms can be Lazy.... haaaa haaaaa haaaaaa haaaaaa... *gaaaaaasssssssspppppp* It's more like most of us don't have 30 seconds of personal time a day, aside from showering and brushing our teeth. I mean, there are days where the most loving thing I do for myself is my nightly face-washing ritual. And sometimes, I'm so tired after keeping everyone else's bodies and clothes and rooms and dishes and you know, EVERYTHING ELSE, clean, that I don't even have the energy to wash my own face.

But! I am making time for running. And that's what's so good about doing a program like this. I have accountability through all of you, and so I have to make time.

And! David is now joining the ranks of mommy-bloggers-gone-running! We tried a workout together this weekend, at a track so the kids could hang out while we jogged. When it came time to run, he took off, leaving me gasping and crawling along. It had to have been comical to watch. I jogged about 8 feet while he did, like, 38 laps in 60 seconds. I don't care that he's faster. He doesn't have the aunties (uncles?). He is wiry and slender. Besides, I can walk faster than he can. It's true! Anyway, I am excited that he's joining the program, even though we can't usually exercise together, with the kids and all. (You know, Child Protection, and trying to avoid a visit from them- for leaving the kids home alone.)

PS. Are you still reading this? Good grief, will I ever shut up? Just wanted to add: We're doing the program while listening to pod casts by Robert Ulrey. I really like it, because I don't have to watch the time. Though I still do. Just to see how many more seconds of pain and panting I have to endure. Plus, his calm, calm voice is ever-so-slightly annoying (and also too calm), so I can be mad at HIM for all this running crap.

The Aunties Are Moaning

Have you read any Anne Lamott yet?

Because you are really missing out sheer genius in writing if you have not.

Anyway, she has these glorious descriptions: her postpartum belly is a faithful puppy, resting beside her as she sleeps, her teenager's moody side is called Phil as in "Phil was here for a visit today", and my favorite- she calls her thighs the "Aunties".

Well, my Aunties are LOVING the C25K, let me tell you. So much that they are singing songs of labor and pain as I walk around. When I climb stairs (of which I have MANY) they bellow out Praises and Amens and Dear God WHY'S??? I thank the Aunties, for being such good sports, for so gamely carrying my body on our jogs. I thank them especially for carrying around this butt, because this butt is not so much jogging as following us while we jog. (If Anne Lamott had a butt like mine, what would she name it? The In-Laws? The Cousins' Illegitimate Children? Yes, I think I need to name my butt in order to survive this whole running thing.)

I actually had a completely rational train of thought while jogging last night- along the lines of "This would be so much easier if I my butt wasn't weighing me down so much. If only it wasn't so BIG. Yeah, then I could REALLY jog." It was minutes before I had the clarity of thought to realize that this was exactly why I needed to be jogging. I blame it on the lack of oxygen to my brain and the fact that my body was concentrating on living and not on thinking.

Complaining from the Aunties aside, the running was not as bad as I expected. If I could stay on Week 1 for, like, 8 months, I'd be fine. What concerns me is how fast the program accelerates. Anne Lamott also says she only has three prayers: "Help me, help me, help me." "Thank you, thank you, thank you." And "Wow. " I need all three- help me to not die, thank you for not letting me die, and wow! I didn't die. Or something like that.

Fangs

Here's a list of things I do NOT want to talk about today: C25K, face-throbbing headaches that border on migraines and keep me awake from 2-5am (even though I have zero sinus congestion- how is this possible?), how utterly messy and out of control my life and house are, and how far behind in work related paperwork, phone calls, and visits I am.

Instead, tell me that this isn't weird: My baby is getting her top two pointy eye teeth. The K-9's or whatever they are called. She only has 2 other teeth- the bottom middle two. She looks like a little vampy baby. I have never heard of a child getting the pointy teeth before the other middle four. If she starts hankerin' for blood, I'll be really worried. Luckily the teeth are only visible to my mommy probing eyes and fingers.

Also, I keep forgetting to get a good picture of my Never Crabby girl. I have plenty of pictures of her in her shirt, but you can't actually see what her shirt says.

Here she is hanging out with her cousins and sisters at family camp.