Just when I thought these “human emotions” were coming from my heart…it turns out it was my uterus. Again. (Thank you, Melanie, for informing me that my previous post sounded a little like I thought I was going to die. I’m not going to die. Ever. I’m immortal. )
I don’t trust myself. And you shouldn’t either. Or ANY woman for that matter. You just never know.
In other news:
When you hear Casey yell, “I’m a firin’ my laser!” it means he’s about to fart on you.
The front of my house is COVERED in milkweed bugs. Extermanaananators (*you read it like Dr. Doofenshmirtz, am I right?) say they can’t get rid of them. You have to walk through the front door, then shut the door as fast as you can and RUN before they fly off the door and swarm you and your beautiful infant daughter. If you go too slow, you get to do the milkweed bug dance. It’s the worst.
Peyton has spent an entire week only speaking in bird chirps and screeches. Think I’m kidding?
Fortunately he will interpret for himself every once in a while when he really wants something.
Abby is crawling up stairs! Awesome achievement, while at the same time, scary as hell. I get rid of my aide RIGHT when someone should be paying attention to her. I need a new aide. If you live in the area or know someone who does and is AWESOME, let me know. This video is much better on MUTE.
Carter has just been downright hateful this week. He had to get a ton of dental work done. He doesn’t like the way the crowns (TWO FREAKING CROWNS for the boy that doesn’t drink soda or juice, and who brushes and flosses…) feel in his mouth and wants to get them taken out. I finally took him to the dentist and she said she could put in smaller ones…um, no thanks. I could have been halfway to breast implants with what we’ve spent on his damn mouth this month. Mouth this month. Mount this month. Manamana. Doot doo doo doo do. Mananamna. Doo dooo doo dooo. At the dentist Carter kept asking over and over if he could take the laughing gas home. If only.
Peyton LOVES drugs as well. Here’s a snippet of him at the dentist. It’s no “David After Dentist” but you can imagine. He giggled like this the ENTIRE time.
We might be moving to Rhode Island next. Newport. Rhode Island. For some reason, that makes me want to buy big hats.