Do you remember how I told you my babies (I mean, my sister's babies) had a birthday? They're 5 and I still can't believe it. And at some point I should probably stop calling them 'The Babies'. Right? I'm thinking sometime around the age of 25 I'll call them something else.
We now eat breakfast on the kitchen floor. Because, you know, it's so hard to make it all the way over to the table.
And we also sleep in the orthodontist chair. Because staying awake at 8:00 am is just too much to ask of anyone.
The #1 and #2 now perform in the same choir. Much to my delight. This was one of those moments where you pause as a parent and ask yourself how time sped by so quickly. Truly.
I'm the kind of mother that sends her 17 year old messages like this during her school day. She has declared she wants it made into a t-shirt.
And I've become obsessed with trying to look at my now stitch-less head. I have to look in the mirror, using another mirror. It looks like teacup rats chewed tiny holes along my scalp. The absurdity of this fascination should alarm me. And yet, it doesn't.
I hope you enjoy all the random fascination you can this weekend.
And maybe an odd compliment, or two.