A few pictures. NICE pictures.

My mom and my sister (Jill) both mentioned they enjoyed my new positive tone, and were glad I don’t hate my kids and want to give them away.  Actually, I think they only said the first part.  Out loud.  And while in ‘real life’ I try to be a pretty happy person, and I do love my kids, I was a little nervous about sounding too nice.  I have read some blogs (craft blogs can be guilty of this) that are so sunny and cheerful and EVERYTHING is always GREAT and the house is clean and decorated at all times and all of the kids are cute and well-behaved and after a couple of posts I want to YAK.  I was a little nervous, for about seven minutes, until I realized that will never be an issue here.  As in, ever.  So I will try not to be too bitterly sarcastic all of the time, and you can remember that when I joke about putting them up for adoption I’m mostly kidding, and together we will have one big happy fuzzy blog!  (Well, sort of.  I wrote “we” to sound nice, but it’s actually mine.)  (And I’m kind of thinking that pointing that out just negated the “nice” part,  in which case this whole “nice” business may be harder than I thought.)

So, funny story!  The twins are too big for a stroller, and refuse to sit in a cart, so I generally try not to take them to stores if I can help it.  However, I needed to pick up a prescription that I should have started a few days ago, so off to Target we went.

Have I ever mentioned that BUTTS are the funniest thing in the world?   We LOVE butts.  (Ha ha!  Butts!)  So as we are walking through Target the twins thought it was hysterical to point at EVERY WOMAN WE PASSED and loudly proclaim “Look at that big butt!  There’s a weally weally big butt!  I see anover big butt!”   Nothing I said mattered, and the more I glared at them the louder they got.  It also didn’t help that most of the women really did have a sizeable rear.  As you can imagine, this was NOT EMBARASSING AT ALL.  Thankfully we finally got to the pharmacy, and were standing in line, when they started grabbing things off of the endcaps.  I’m hissing “Don’t touch” and trying to put one thing back as the other one grabs something else.  Finally it was my turn and I told the pharmacist I needed a prescription they had on file.  As she was looking me up in the computer Gregory picked up a bottle of spray suncreen, squirted himself in the eyeball, and started screeching like a howler monkey.  She asked “which one?”, and I may have been a little too emphatic when I firmly, LOUDLY ANNOUNCED “the BIRTH CONTROL PILLS”, because the other people in line burst out laughing at this news.  In retrospect, however, it is possible they were laughing with RELIEF at the thought of my womb being shut down by oral contraceptives, so maybe that is not actually a funny story.  Not that I don’t love my PRECIOUS ANGEL BABIES, they are just so precious I don’t think I could STAND any more… preciousness.

BUTTS!  (Ha ha!  Now that’s funny!)

The other day after Gregory woke up from his nap he quietly sneaked in to my bedroom.  I thought everyone was sleeping, until I heard a strange ssssssss sound.  This is what I found-

Has anyone seen There’s Something About Mary? 

For hours afterwards he kept patting his hair, amazed, and asking me why it was hard.  I’m no rocket scientist, but it may have something to do with a HALF OF A CAN OF HAIRSPRAY.  It was pretty funny though, and I was thankful that was all he got in to. 

Of course I have to include a picture of my favoritest person in the world some random relative.  She looks just like me!  (No, she really doesn’t, but I CAN PRETEND.)

They play together nicely!  Until they start fighting, anyway…

Let’s have a craft blog!  I’m crocheting a blanket here.  Notice my clean, peaceful house in the backgroundOR NOT

The finished product-

Dumbledore is not sure she approves.  But notice my pink ottoman!  PAAANK!!  I love Ikea.  I LOVE Ikea!  (Pank!)  (I sometimes pronounce “pink” as “PAAANK!”.  I find it amusing.  Possibly because I am crazy.)

I occasionally call a twin by the other’s name.  Daddy, however, gets them confused ALL OF THE TIME.  (Which is not difficult, Matthew never knows who they are either.)  The other night, though, Andrew was supposed to be getting his pajamas on.  He was dawdling, and Mike snapped “Hurry up, Gregory.”  I said “That’s Andrew”, and when Mike looked at him Andrew gave him a huge grin and enthusiastically said “Nice to meetcha!”  I laughed so hard I almost fell over. 

That is all for now!  I have finally run out of words.  Nice words, anyway.

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March 15, 2009. Uncategorized.

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