Near and Far

Over the next couple of weeks posting will be a bit more erratic. I'll be on vacation, and it will depend upon things like how busy I am, how much I feel like it, and the internet connection over there. So please keep checking. This year I might even be able to post photos of my vacation! Maybe even while I'm still there!

Here is a picture of the curl in Nate's hair before we went and got it cut:

Until we leave (a little over 5 hours from now) and begin the first leg of our journey (I count five, not including customs) I will be running around trying to make sure we have everything, and that I'm not overlooking anything, such as a diaper bin full of dirty diapers, or smelly cheese in the fridge, or a small child hiding in the laundry room.

Here is Nate from Far Away:

Now wish me luck, and I'll try to post from there!

Steam Bath

I have packed our coolest summer clothing, and it is over 90 today. As it was yesterday.

This morning Nicholas fought me because he wanted to wear long jeans and a turtleneck. I was standing there in a camisole and my underwear, because that's what I was sleeping in when he woke up at 5am, and I was already hot. And there he is, trying to wedge his body into the hottest clothing he owns.

I am now wearing jeans because I haven't shaved my legs in two months - I plan on waxing before leaving on vacation, but I wanted to do it at the LAT POSSIBLE SECOND. And this is what vanity gets you. Jeans on 90 degree days. How foolish and stupid.

I need to run take the trash out and then pack Nick a lunch.

One Leg At A Time

I have a problem, I admit it. I am an advance packer. Almost as soon as my sister left, the car still pulling out of the driveway, I had the suitcases out of the guest bed and was busy checking off items as I packed them up. Crazy, I know. Especially as we still had A WEEK before departing.

Which brings us to now. As of now, I have almost everything packed, with the exceptions of things we haven't purchased yet (books - if I buy them too early I read them before I leave) and things we need before leaving (toothbrushes, face cream, hairbrushes, etc.)

This means that right now none of us has a great deal of clothing to choose from, since most of it is packed away, and cannot be touched upon penalty of Mom going Insane. The person this most affects is Nicholas, who for some reason has a very limited number of shorts to begin with.

This morning we picked out an outfit, but he refused to let me help him get dressed, as he was having fun running around stark naked. I took Nathan into the bathroom and reminded Nicholas that he needed to be wearing clothing before going downstairs for breakfast. When Nicholas came into the bathroom he was triumphant. "I dressed myself!" he shouted. And he had!

Only his shirt was on backwards, the skateboard print in the back. His shorts were on correctly, but his underwear... he somehow got both feet into the same leg hole, but kept tugging, so that the whole things was around his waist, covering... nothing, and oddly visible above the waistband of his shorts. Boy, was he cute!

Lawns to mow

I thought I had posted about this, but apparently it slipped my mind. The fact of the matter is, YES, I HAVE been mowing the lawn!

I have always thought of mowing the lawn as - please forgive me for saying this even though I am for women's rights and hate being told what I can or can't do - a MAN'S JOB. Not just because it's hot and sweaty, but because mowing our lawn involved the LAWN MOWER, and in our case it's a RIDER MOWER, not the one in the photo above, but one that looks an awful lot like it. And since Steve is the car guru in these parts, and since the second time he mowed our lawn EVER he practically took off a finger, and since he often comes in sunburned and dirty... well, what's the harm in making this particular chore a man's chore?

Except that, I realized, he had started to go mow the lawn with a beer in his hand, whistling to himself, and left me with the kids. Which was fine, only... well, I started thinking... how hard could it BE? He's DRIVING AROUND. On something the size of a golf cart. I could do that.

So a couple of weeks ago I sat down on it, got Steve to go over the finer points (how to turn the mower on and off, how to start the darn thing, etc.) and took off. After a couple of seconds of practice I headed down to mow with Steve helpfully shouting "OK, But you're going to fail!" I made my way around the already-mowed-once section of our lower property, and when I made it back to point A I turned the mower off. "Why did you say I was going to fail?" I asked, only slightly upset because, after all, there was nothing to it. "It's nothing!" said Steve. You're doing a great job! It's just... you're going a whole lot slower than I ever thought you would."

Yesterday I had my second shot at mowing. This time, more comfortable on the machine, I stalled out several times. I also realized that I was bouncing up and down like a mad woman. "It's like being on a horse!" I thought. And then I started to worry, because I am NOT supposed to be riding horses right now. Although no one has mentioned rider mowers as a danger to pregnant women.

At any rate, I did an awful job mowing the lawn yesterday (while Steve watched the kids - it's still like a little break for me.) And when I finished I told Steve that that was it for me. At least until the baby was born. In December. Prime mowing season, as you know. But seriously - next spring, I'll be back mowing, because I like it, and I can now put gas in the mower myself!

Checking It Twice

To Do:
- Fix Umbrella in our patio furniture
- Mow Lawn
- Clean Out Fridge (and find source of that smell)
- Brush the Pets and Give Them Frontline
- Clean The House (get rid of boxes, clear off dining room table)
- DO THE DISHES
- Order batteries for dog's collar
- Go to Wal-Mart for various items

Saturday Special

I don't get TONS of comments on this blog, which is fine. But it occurred to me that quite a few comments ask questions which I then NEVER ADDRESS. The comments just disappear into the void that is the internet, and the answers never save them. So here are a bunch of random answers from random past posts that I have ignored. I'll try to do better. In the meantime, I have a new link to my friend Julie's new blog! If you like nursing student stories, or cats, or just funny people, you should check it out.

- I have not tried to download this blog onto a CD. I have, actually, been printing it out, post by post, after waiting for comments to go up. The problem is that recently I've stopped being able to print it out right, and it prints one page for the title, one page for the description of the blog, and one page of post, no matter how long the post is, and never posts any comments at all. It is also a waste of paper and printer ink.

- The big bowl in my kitchen is the hugest bowl in the world. We got it as a wedding gift, and at the time I thought it was ugly and I hated it, but I had to keep it out because it is too huge to place in any cupboard - the doors don't close. And it only took a few months for me to actually fall in love with it. I love this bowl. If it ever breaks I will cry and I will be at a loss as to where to store my fruit.

- Anne-E woke up when I did while she was here, which was silly, since she was still on PST and was waking up at 2am her time. I told her to go back to sleep, but by then the boys had their fingers curled in her flesh and she could no longer escape. I did an awful lot of relaxing while she was here, and she made me eggs.

- I am planning on naming the baby LeBron. Or, if it's a girl, I'm going to wait and see what Betsy names her twins, and then name my baby that. Both of the names. Hyphenated. Like Amy-Louise. Or, you know, Gwendelyn-Lewellyn.

"Ugh" means "Save Me!"

This time before our vacation last year I was sweating out the wait for Nathan's passport, which came less than 48 hours before our departure.

With less than a week to go, I am once again a bundle of nerves. This time, however, we have all the necessary documents for international travel. I have double and triple checked.

The thing is, there still seems to be so much to DO. I have to go shopping so that I will have something to wear, and although that might sound silly to you, remember that I have a different shape than I did last summer. That, and the items I wore the summer before THAT are mostly stained and / or too tight.

I have started packing, but it's a work in progress, especially since each time I pack something Nicholas or Nathan will unpack it, drag it around the house for awhile, and then cry because they lost it.

In fact, both boys have turned on me, displaying the very worst in their behavior. They cry and try to climb my body whenever I turn off the TV or try to devote my attention to something other than them. It is not even 8am, and yet Nathan has slammed Nick's foot in the door four times already, Nicholas has asked me twice what we're having for supper (I DON'T KNOW!), and I have to go get the cars registered before we leave, drop the key off at the pet sitter's, and reserve a rental car which Steve told me over a month ago he would take care of NOT THAT I'M BLAMING YOU, STEVE! I'm just saying.

I need to end this post abruptly because I need to take laundry out of the dryer, find the checkbook, convince Nick we are NOT going to play Wiggles right now on the computer, and figure out why Nathan is trying to climb onto my lap while beating me with my old photo album.

Sprinkler Fun

My Sister Anne-E came for a visit this week.



She lives far away, and we don't get to see her very much.


In fact, the last time we'd seen her was just before Easter 2006, before Nicholas was 2, and when Nathan was so small he couldn't even sit up yet.

I think it's a drawback of the blog... people feel as though they have been in touch after reading it - which is great.

But the boys have no clue who's been reading. They only count actual visits.

Anyway, they had LOTS of fun with Aunt Anne-E.




These Photos are from the sprinkler, when they all got wet, and I watched.

Come visit us again soon, Aunt Anne-E! We miss you!

Say Cheese!

Whenever I get the camera out, Nathan makes this face and says "CHEESE!" while moving around me in an arc so he can see the picture of himself that I am trying to take. It looks kind of scary, but I think it's a funny face!

Morning Has Broken

There are two types of sleepers. Those who have their heavy sleep at the end of their sleep cycle (in the morning) and those who have it at the start of their sleep cycle (soon after they fall asleep.) I am of the second variety, which means if you wake me up after I have been sleeping for five minutes I will be very grumpy. It also means that I wake up on the early side. Not because I don't want to sleep later, but because I get woken up more easily then.

It doesn't help that there is a conspiracy to wake me up at the crack of dawn. I know this for a fact. It was proven to me this morning. And it starts with the birds.

At 4:30am, before the light of dawn even makes it to our bedroom windows, the birds start to sing. The hot days are too much for them, so they must do all their socializing in the early hours, when it is cool. However, I would like to suggest 8am. Because the 4:30 thing is getting out of hand. And before you think I'm nuts, let me explain that I always wondered how a rooster could wake a farm until fifty thousand birds going about their business kept me from going back to sleep.

I don't know if it's the birds, or if it's just the time of day, but about this time the boys start making noises. Not fully-awake noises, but whimpering "I might go back to sleep or I might start to scream" noises. And if you're a parent, like me, and it's 5am, you probably do what I do - freeze and stare at the clock and WILL the child back into a deep and restful sleep, afraid that even the slightest noise - such as turning over and rustling the sheets, will wake the kid the rest of the way up, and any chance of further sleep is lost.

It is always about this time that Steve begins to snore. He can remain silent all night, but once the boys begin to stir he, for some reason, decides to sleep flat on his back and the snoring starts. It begins softly, and I always, always think it might just peter out, but then it builds in volume, the crescendo practically rattling the windows, and even though sleep, for me, may be out of the question by now, I still panic because I know, I JUST KNOW the boys will hear the snores and will wake up. So I have to poke my husband and get him to roll over, which he always does, but not without muttering incomprehensible things in an injured tone of voice.

A few minutes later Nicholas wanders in, his arms full of stuffed animals, and announces that he needs help with the potty, and the morning is pretty much ruined for me, at 5am. Early riser or not, I usually feel that a person deserves at least a fighting chance of sleeping until 6am.

Sharing or Screaming

Psst - New Yorkers - don't forget to visit my sister's reading tonight, as per my previous post!

Here is a picture of Nate sitting in a box. As you can see, he is smiling and happy. It doesn't take much for him to amuse himself, when he's on his own. The same goes for Nicholas.

Put the two of them together, however, and within three minutes there will be screaming and tears.

I had to throw the box away because of the screaming that followed. In fact, I feel I spend most of my time barging in on shrill and tearful arguments, simply to remove whatever toy it is they are fighting over NOW and place it someplace where, perhaps, with any luck, it will disappear and never be seen again.

I can't help but feel a little bit resentful about this. After all, I don't want to be a screaming, yelling, bad-mood lady. But I am a bit pregnant and hormonal, prone to tears myself, and I have only so much patience with little boys fighting over who gets to play with the fire truck THIS SECOND when it has gone ignore for the past three months, or which boy gets to go first diving headfirst off the sofa.

Father's Day Bulletin

Today being Father's Day, there are a few things I feel I should say:




1 - Happy Father's Day to my Father, who is very Cool, and I hope I get to speak to today.




2 - Happy Father's Day to my Husband, the father of my children, the man who let me drive his rider-mower and eats the chicken I cook, no matter how salty.




3 - ANYONE IN NEW YORK! Please make an effort to go to this reading my sister Anne-E is giving for her book! It's tomorrow, June 18th, at 7pm, at Bluestockings! It's 172 Allen St. She promises you won't regret it!




Finally, I just want to throw this out there: Two feet, two shoes. You'd figure that 50% of the time the shoes would end up on the correct feet. But for some reason, this is not the case. WHY? WHY IS IT NOT THE CASE?

Neglected

I have to be careful and not forget about my two existing boys during this pregnancy. As if I ever really COULD forget about them. Then tend to try to climb my body and beat me with books and sip cups if I zone out for too long. But I know for a fact that there were more than a few things they said or did this week that I made mental notes for posting, and of course I can't remember one of them this morning.

We're leaving for vacation soon. I can't wait. I would have already started packing, but we will be needing clothing before we leave. Besides, I happen to know that the earlier I start, the more I bring. I have started making lists, though. including a list of items to carry on and a list of items I will plan on purchasing upon arrival. Which brings me to the question: WHO AM I? I used to leave for three months and pack half an hour before we left, flinging underwear and t -shirts and books into a large duffel. Now I have to unpack before I leave just so I can live my life.

Food For Thought

One of these "How To" books I've read compares pregnancy to a slow rate of starvation. I laughed when I read this, even though I'd been pregnant twice already. I mean, COME ONE! Pregnancy? Starvation? Different.

But in the end, not so different.

I have never really been hungry like people all over the world are hungry every day. I have always had food available to me in some form or another, even if it was only a few very stale very chocolate donuts at 3am, or Ramen with frozen chicken patties (see Theatre Company In Maine Woods = Bad Idea). I have always been able to afford a Wonka bar, and usually a Bic Mac to go with it. I recognize that, in this way, I have always been lucky.

But pregnancy hunger is different. Pregnancy hunger is the kind of hunger that will have me creeping downstairs at 3am for Cheerios because if I don't I might roll over and suck out my husband's brains. Pregnancy Hunger is what causes me to scarf down half a bag of stale Cheetos, even though I have always HATED Cheetos ever since I was eleven and that homeless guy got too close while yelling intimate things about parts of my anatomy I didn't have yet, and the vomit on his beard smelled like Cheeto Cheese.

As soon as the doctor confirmed my pregnancy they gave me a long list of foods to avoid, rattling off each item as though it were no big deal. No alcohol. No soft cheeses. Avoid fish that might be contaminated with mercury. No sushi. No raw or undercooked meats. No deli meats unless they have been steamed. Try to cut down on caffeine. Try to cut down on artificial sweeteners. Cut down on fats. Eat whole grains. Protein. Honestly, between the stuff that I can't eat because they said so and the stuff that I can't eat because it turns my stomach, this is what I'm left with: Cheerios, Stale Cheetos, Cheddar Cheese.

It's the Chee diet.

What you've been missing

Now that my secret is out I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. For the past two months I could hardly post anything because mostly I wanted to post "Secret secret! I've got a Secret!" and then talk about how sick I felt.

Honestly, I wonder more and more about these women who seem to reach the seventh or eighth month of pregnancy AND DO NOT NOTICE. I think I hate them. Because if I didn't know that the way I have been feeling was caused by a human gestating in my abdomen, I would be convinced I was dying of something much more tragic. I am tired ALL the time. I am also hungry AND nauseous all the time, at the same time, which makes finding something to eat a bit of a challenge. I've lost track of the number of times I've actually been sick. Not to mention the fact that I've started crying during television commercials for items such as car insurance, diapers, or yogurt.

Because I've been feeling so emotional and ill and fatigued, I am finding it harder to do the things I usually do, such as cook dinner, fold laundry, and vacuum. Suddenly what I used to do with relatively little effort seems like SO MUCH. I mean, honestly, do all of THAT? WHEN DO I GET TO THROW UP?

And by far the biggest change is that I have started napping every day. I had planned to stick to a workout schedule, gradually decreasing my speed and my time as I got bigger and my balance changed. I had worked too hard to get to where I was - back to before Nick weight and better than that endurance, and there was no reason to stop. The doctor said I could continue. The books all say exercise is good while pregnant, as long as it is managed carefully. But let me tell you - the books are stupid. And so is that doctor if she thinks I'm going to give up a nap to run. I'm TIRED! LET ME SLEEP!

Another Birthday

Many Happy Returns of the Day! Or just Happy Birthday to Steve, my husband, who I love lots and lots. I wish you didn't have to go to work today, too.

How I Know It's A Boy:

Because I have two boys already, the gender of this baby-to-be is usually one of the first things people bring up when they find out I'm pregnant. I just want everyone to know, up ahead of time, that I already know this third one is a BOY. Male. Y chromosome.

How am I so sure? Well, I reached the conclusion scientifically. You see, a baby's gender is determined by chromosomes. X for a girl, Y for a boy. And there are only so many of each that float around the atmosphere for soon-to-be-pregnant mother's to inhale. (I told you, this was very scientific.)

This is where my friend Betsy comes in. Betsy has a little boy two months older than Nathan. And two months before my baby is scheduled to make it's arrival into the world, she is going to have HER second child. Oh - and her third. That's right, Betsy is having TWIN GIRLS!

So you see what happened? Betsy sucked up all the girls stuff before I could get to it, and now I'm going to have a third boy. Which probably would have happened anyway, because Steve is SO MANLY. And I'm sure all of my scientific explanations will be upheld when I finally go in for my REAL ultrasound in August, and they can confirm that yes, I am indeed carrying a boy.

See, a baby is exciting, but Twin Girls is exciting times two.

Blog Post Topics

When I first started this blog I was eight months pregnant with my second child, Nicholas was just about 18 months, and there always seemed to be plenty to say. Of course most of my posts were complaints about how uncomfortable I was, but the readers were there, hung on every word... or at least checking in every day to see if the baby had come yet.




Over the past few weeks I have had to search for topics to write about. Suddenly I was at a loss for things to say. I am sure this is going to be an ongoing challenge as time goes by, and as I continue to post to this blog. But it just so happens I was handed a very small topic that I might be able to post about for, oh, the next six months or so.




ETA: mid-Dec.

Have You Seen This Woman?

Because I haven't seen her in a long time.

Amazing Product!

I purchased something at the vet's the other day. It's called "The Furminator!" No, it's not a bad movie featuring fuzzy trained animals, it's a pet grooming tool. And seeing it there, hanging in my vet's office, suddenly made it seem more credible than it had seemed in the infomercial. So I went ahead and got it, despite the little voice in the back of my head that was shouting "Save your money! Save your money! This is never going to work!"



Well, it works. It's not 100%, but to tell you the truth I think that has more to do with the fact that I'm new at using it and I can't brush to pets with it too much because I might irritate their skin. But the amount of pet hair that I've removed over the past couple of days has been tremendous. I'm thrilled. I have visions of a couch that isn't coated in white fur, and of a bedroom carpet that is actually blue - not blue with a netting of back Gunther DNA.

The end result is that I am recommending this product for anyone with pet hair concerns. Although it hasn't stopped out floors from being coated with a thin, almost invisible layer of pet hair. Not yet, anyway.

A Moment of Clarity

When I first started this blog it was meant to be more than just a few sentences about a few semi-humorous things that my children did or said. The writing was supposed to, somehow, go a bit deeper than that. And I don't think I have succeeded very well, in that regard.

I write a lot about the funny things my kids do, and about how silly I think the simplest tasks (buying toothpaste, making the bed) have become. But I hardly ever mention how sweet it feels to bury my face in Nathan's neck and kiss him there to make him laugh. I don't think I have ever said one word about how one of his belly laughs can lift my spirit, almost as much as one of Nicholas's fake grown-up laughs can break my heart. I haven't written about Nicholas's hair, and how it has lost that baby smell, and how I can pick up the scent of the paints and the toys he plays with at school, all caught up in his crazy, unruly, never-to-be-tamed curls. When Nathan sings Twinkle Twinkle he reaches his arms up to the sky, twinkling his fingers and looking up, and I don't know who taught him to do that.

Parenthood has broken my heart. As wonderful as it is, it is also bittersweet. These boys who were my babies, who wanted nothing more than to sit in my arms, are growing up to be their own people.

Two Stooges

Yesterday I thought the funniest thing I would ever see in my life was Nick and Nate out by the slide. Nick was perched at the top of the slide, gearing up to slide down, and the very MOMENT he pushed off Nathan reached out and YOINK snatched off his brother's hat. Nick screamed in protest all the way to the bottom of the slide as Nathan toddled off as fast as he could to the other end of the platform with his stolen item.

Of course I reacted by laughing my head off.

As Nick stormed up the platform, ready to take revenge and reclaim his chapeau, Nathan tossed it down the slide and again ran off. Both boys ended up laughing at me laughing, and then Nicholas went around and stole ALL our hats for comic effect.

Everyone should laugh like that at least once a day.

Poetic Justice

My kids wake up too early.

I used to be an early riser. I still am, actually, but now my early rising falls within the OK TO BE AWAKE hours. As opposed to when I was a kid, and I mother used to burst into my room and shout "Go Back To Bed! It's 4:30!" Seriously, I would wake up that early. It was a problem later on, when I started going to sleepovers and had to bring a book so that I would have something to do during the hours (HOURS) between when I woke up and when anyone else in the house would even think about opening their eyes.

My kids wake up at 5am. I got them new shades. I put them to bed later. Nothing works. They just wake up that early. This morning I finally stumbled into their room because it sounded as though our 2 kids had multiplied into 6, and they were all singing and rattling the bars on their cages.

I guess this is called poetic justice.

And now I'm tired and cranky and the boys will have to deal with me ALL DAY.

And that is called Poetic Justice, too.

Fun With Water?

At the Strawberry Festival, both Nicholas and Nathan won prizes. If the games weren't rigged to help little ones win, then the booth managers let the kids have prizes anyway.

In one case, the lady let Nicholas choose his own prize from an assortment that she had stashed behind the booth. There were inflatable balls, rockets, and many things little boys might think were cool. What did Nick choose? He chose a bright pink teddy bear necklace that had bubble solution in it.

It was funny, actually, because he started blowing bubbles right away, and didn't really stop. He really surprised me in the car when I mistook a bunch of little bubbles for a swarm of bugs - I was driving.

Anyway, Nick soon used up all the bubble solution. He then realized that he could refill the little teddy bear container with water, which he did at the sink. I spoke to him about playing with water, and explained that the sink was only for washing up, not for playing.

Yesterday, as I quickly hacked out my post, I realized that the boys were too quiet. I dashed into the kitchen and saw that the door to the bathroom was closed. But behind it was the faint sound of running water. When I opened the door... ugh. Nicholas had the sink on. He had a little red bucket which he was filling with water and the sink and then dumping into the toilet. He was, apparently, doing this over and over, splashing water all over the floor, the walls, and himself in the process.

I can't imagine what he thought he was doing. Filling the toilet? Cleaning the toilet? Bailing out of a sinking ship? All I know is that I was unhappy at the cleanup. And that now I must watch Nick like a hawk every time he goes into the bathroom.

catching up on my life

Saturday was really, really busy.

We took Steve's car to the car place, and on the way home we stopped off at the John Deere store so Steve could ask some questions. Nicholas loved the tractors so much I can't even begin to describe how overwhelmed he was. He threw a fit when I made him leave behind a little toy steering wheel, and also when he realized we were leaving without a new tractor for Steve.

Later we went to the Strawberry Festival - a yearly book fair and festival thrown by the library organization. Nicholas bounced around on a couple of big blow-up things, both boys played a few kid's festival games, neither of them ate the italian ice Steve got, and then we pretty much melted because it was 105 degrees out (or something along those lines) and we had to go pick up Steve's car.

Then, that evening, Steve took me to dinner and to a movie. The dinner was one of those Japanese places where they cook the food in front of you, so it was fun, and very good. And the movie was fun, although not so good. Let's face it, there was nothing I wanted to see, really. I mean, nothing I couldn't wait for.... The Third Pirate move, Shrek III, or Spiderman III... we ended up seeing 28 weeks later, the sequel to 28 Days Later, a zombie movie. I love Zombie movies. Especially ones with large loopholes. As I said before - I had fun!

And then yesterday we slept. Because I was tired, and it was raining.

There, you're pretty much all caught up.

The Toothpaste Post

What kind of toothpaste do you use?

When I was a kid, toothpaste was toothpaste. It didn't seem so complicated. Sure, they came out with the "gel" toothpastes instead of the "paste" toothpaste, and we thought that was the coolest! But still, toothpaste was toothpaste and that was that.

These days I spend more and more time in the toothpaste aisle trying to find what I want. It shouldn't be so complicated. But the last time I purchased toothpaste I accidentally got cinnamon flavored paste. Cinnamon.

Cinnamon is not a bad spice. I like it in pies, and on pork chops, with apples, on toast... But this toothpaste? It's like brushing your teeth with a stick of Big Red. It does not leave my mouth feeling minty clean, but instead leaves my mouth feeling like there is a filmy substance coating my gums.

The thing is, it's hard to find normal toothpaste. Everything is vanilla flavored, lemon flavored... why not make one that tastes like cake? Or chicken? Toothpaste should be MINT! End of story. Not to mention the fact that I must also navigate the KIND of toothpaste - tartar control? Whitening? The whitening stuff hurts my teeth - I have sensitive teeth. Should I buy the special toothpaste for that?

Add to that the fact that I now need to get toothpaste for Nicholas. Nicholas prefers the toothpaste with Diego on the tube. He says he likes his toothpaste, which, I noticed the other day, claims to be "Mild Bubble Fruit Flavored!" Which simply makes me wonder where on this earth one can find this Bubble Fruit? Is it strong? Is that why they specify "mild?"

I need to get more toothpaste. I would like to just walk up the the shelf, grab a toothpaste, and leave. But I don't want to end up brushing my teeth with Bubble fruit, Lemon pie, Whitening formula stuff. I want the toothpaste from when I was a kid.

Five Whole Years

In this picture you see me and Steve reading through the book which holds the rules about being married. Yes, there is such a book, and all couples must read through it the day of the ceremony. Seriously. If you ask me, I can tell you exactly what it said.

Happy Anniversary, Steve. I love you.