Having Kids is Hilarious

After school today, Nora asked me to draw her a Santa hat so she could cut it out and write a letter to Santa on it. I fully expected her to ask for something for Christmas in this letter, but, no. It was a prep-letter for when she plans to see him in person this Sunday. Check it out. (She had actually tried to write the letter herself, but she wanted me to translate it for her over the top of what she wrote.)


"I love you, Santa, but please don't 'Ho Ho' in my face. Thanks, Nora."

I'm pretty sure she did this because we watched A Christmas Story last night. She seemed a bit taken aback that a kid would actually freak out in Santa's lap. So, to prevent that sort of incident for herself, she's taking precautions.

I'm pretty sure she's Willi's daughter. I am pretty sure I've never thought that far ahead, like, ever.

Terrible and Beautiful

Last night, I took the new computer back that we had bought over the weekend (there was an, um, issue with Best Buy that got resolved—another story). Nora had gone to be with a friend, so I had just Henry and Everett with me. Everett was a 15-month-old disaster at Best Buy, which is pretty standard. (I have a four-year-old, and I can say, with confidence, that the hardest age is just walking until fully talking.)

The whole time we were at Best Buy (it took forever, which was unexpected, but not surprising), Henry kept reminding me that I had said that we could go to "Benard's."

I told him that we have to wait until we're all done, and if he wasn't going to listen to me, we couldn't go. So, he did his best. He just laid down on the floor of Best Buy. At this point in my motherhood, I just let that happen. I probably got judged, but people can go fly a kite.

We left Best Buy, Henry reminded me about "Benard's," and I decided that he had behaved well enough to go (and I could strap Ev into a cart this time). The thing about "Benard's" is that they have ONE cart that is kid-friendly. It has a car on the front, and Henry asks me every day at least 86 times if we can go to "Benard's that has the yellow car."

I'm not even kidding about that.

So, we got to "Benard's," and we spotted the cart. As I herded my two boys into the store, two, slightly older boys darted into the store and headed straight for the cart. Henry went running after them saying, "Nooo!"

My heart sank . . . before Henry even said anything. I watched (almost outside myself) as I heard these little boys basically tell him "tough."

Henry had the hugest tears, and his cries were so full of anguish. He just doesn't get out much, darn it.

Anyway, what could I do? I just started to try to comfort him, and I said, "Sorry, buddy. We just missed it. Darn it."

Oh, it was painful. I about cried, too, honestly.

Luckily, over his cries, I barely heard the mother of the boys yelling, "You know what, guys? You need to let those little boys ride that car."

She actually walked over there and made them get off. I think she hated doing it, and I felt bad that she felt she had to do it (and, yet, that's honestly what I would have done had I been her). I couldn't help but to be pissed off at "Benard's" for only ever having ONE of those STUPID CARTS at EVERY "Benard's" STORE.

I told her "thank you," but it might have been lost on her. I made Henry say "thank you" to the boys. Believe it or not, the boys actually seemed to be OK with parting with the car once he said that.

It was terrible and beautiful all at once. Life is hard. You know it? Jeez.

Henry's Upsided

Just in the last few weeks, Henry has really started to connect some synapses in his brain or something. He makes so much more sense all of a sudden, and I've found that I'm not spending most of my mornings ripping my hair out with him. It's a welcomed change. He's starting to understand quite a bit, and he's actually starting to be really sweet and helpful.

One of the things that he says lately that I do not want to forget: when he gets excited about something (like when we say we're going to go out to eat at "the car place"), he always gasps, opens his eyes wide, and says, "I be so upsided!"

It makes me laugh every single time.

She's Smarter Than I Am

This morning, I managed to somehow overfill my coffee cup. I use my cup (which is a cup with a lid because I spill a lot) to fill up the coffee maker to prevent this from happening, but for some reason, there was actually more coffee in the end than what was in my cup. I was so confused. It was so full, in fact, that I couldn't put the lid on it. So, I fumbled around with it to the table, and I ended up spilling some on myself and the table. Nora looked at me and said, "Mom! Why don't you just pour some out?"

Why the crap didn't I think of that!?

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I haven't had a Tuesday worthy of a good rant in awhile, but today, there just happened to be enough material for it. Amber and Sara did it first. I copied. Truth. 

Hey, It's Okay . . .

To believe that God gave me the blessing of closing on the house in La Porte yesterday just so that I could handle the slapfest that would happen to me today.

To look forward to the day when I can have a second to look forward to things. I am doing way too much "flying by the seat of my pants" lately. That house closing was supposed to help, but I guess it's still been less than 24 hours since that happened.

To be glad that my baby can't quite talk yet for fear that he might repeat some of the words that I've uttered (somewhat loudly) under my breath (or not) today.

To not really be able to focus on positive part of the fact that the floor in the basement might be a little cleaner now that I had to mop it. By all the gross, gross drains.

To think about not including the part where I stepped on a toy, fell, and dumped my mop bucket on a large area of the basement (and on carpet, stuffed animals, toys, and linoleum) because it's just so, so stupid. Aaaand, my foot still hurts.

To be really looking forward to work slowing down (even a little would be lovely) after this week. (Seriously. I had a severe deadline today AND my sump pump decided not to work this morning.)

To want to drop everything to make an awesome penguin backpack for Nora for school . . . but there's no way that I'll have time to do it.

To look forward to the day when Henry stops saying, "Hey, Mom," before EVERYTHING that he says—even if he has just said it in the prior sentence and still holds my attention.

To not mention at least one of the things that happened today that is rant-worthy because it's just too gross. That one will just be for Willis. Just know that something else gross and rant-worthy happened. Okay? It actually wasn't poo-related, believe it or not. (That one was two weeks ago.)

To actually prefer the poo-related grossness incident(s) that happened all in one day to all the things that were happening today.

To think that every single mole and freckle (and we all have a million of them) is a tick . . . with lyme disease.

House Update

"After putting our first home on the market February 1st, we entered into a purchase agreement on March 16th. Five months later, we finally closed that life chapter."

That's the direct quote from my "life event" on Facebook that happened yesterday, August 20th. We finally sold the house!

Two Homes . . . Still

We got a call from our realtor over the weekend telling us that everything was finally cleared on our buyer's end, and we were most likely going to be closing this week—maybe even on Monday! While I was thrilled to hear that bit of news, my very practiced skepticism crept in, and out of my mouth came, "Yeaaah. I'll believe that when I see it."

Last night, we got another call from our realtor (notice it's beyond Monday, Tuesday, and even Wednesday at that point). It turns out: FHA loans take 60 days to close once everything is cleared. So, our buyer is now seeking out standard financing at this point.

Why this couldn't happen, oh, like, three months ago, I do not know. And, how did nobody know about the 60 days?

Obnoxious. Really.

Two Homes

We still own two homes, by the way. Our buyer is still having some serious problems getting off of her previous mortgage with her soon-to-be ex. I don't really understand how it all works, but I know that her soon-to-be ex was rejected for his refinance on Friday. So, that has delayed things again. I know that she is working hard (with her attorney) to figure out a way to be able to close, but it all seems really complicated.

And I thought my life has been really hard . . . you know? I feel bad for her.

Teenage Years are Gonna be Yikesies

Nora: When I grow up, I might be a good girl all the time, but I probably won't for right now.

Willis: Oh. Wow. How very rational of you, Nora.

Nora: (Glaring.) Well, I'm going to go nurse my babies.

By the way, this was after an extensive conversation about why Nora never eats her dinner.

Sweet Baby Jesus

Nora: Hey, Mom? Is Jesus as big as you?

Me: Um. Probably. He's probably taller.

Nora: Oh. Well, is Jesus as big as Daddy?

Me: You know what? I'm not really sure. Probably.

Nora: Does Everett have a little baby Jesus in his heart?

Me: Hahaa! Yeah. He'd have to be a tiny, little, baby Jesus, wouldn't He?

A Short Story by Nora

One day, I was at a volcano at PPS. Then, I got really scared. Then, I went to the volcano and watched it. I never looked at it. I had to go away. Then, I got dead because my grandma gave me up, and then, I got really tired. Then, she got me back home.

The Goins On in House Purgatory

This morning, I drove the kids over to Ogden Dunes to check out Nora's preschool for next year. The teacher was awesomely proactive about reaching out to me and responding to me after I had sent her a message on her website requesting more information. So, I signed Nora up, sight unseen. We saw it today, though, and I'm really excited about the place. Nora seemed to like it, but she was incredibly shy. I suppose I didn't blame her because there were several kids in there that were taller than her and wanted to talk.

Henry seemed really excited about the place, too, but he most likely will not be able to go until the school year after next. (He would have gone to Nora's current preschool next school year, had we stayed put.) I think he's going to be really disappointed when he figures out that he won't be going to school this year. He was already looking forward to it. (These guys seriously do not forget anything.)

I did get a chance to meet a local mom today, so I'll be in touch with her to figure out the ins and outs of having wee ones where we are moving. I'm excited about that. She was really friendly, which was refreshing.

In other news, Nora got pooped on by a big, fat bird as we were walking back into our house (on her coat sleeve). It was so gross, she cried. I told her to be glad it wasn't in her hair (I've had that happen to me before). I've been pooped on by birds more than I care to count, really. I must have a head that says, "Oh, yeah! It'd be awesome to poo on that from up here."

In other gross news, we still know NOTHING about our housing situation. We don't know if our buyer's divorce is final or not. We don't know if her financing is getting ready or not. We don't have a closing date or any idea of when we may know one. We just know absolutely stinking nothing, and we are about to wig (especially me). So . . . that's going on.

In other, similarly TMI news, Henry is potty trained. Note that I've never felt confident enough to say that about Nora. I guess I understand it, now, when people say that potty training can happen overnight. It kind-of did with Henry. I thought girls were supposed to be easier. What's up with that, universe?

A car alarm somewhere in our neighborhood went off, like, four separate times last night at about 30 minutes a pop. The first time, I thought it was our car (it sounded that close, but I'm fairly confident it was behind our house somewhere). It wasn't.

Willis will most likely be gone for about 12 hours a day for most of this week again. That's hurty.

That's the news from House Purgatory. Pray for our sanity.

The Stress Has Got to Go

Two nights ago, I dreamt that Willis and I were on the roof of our current house (if you've seen it, you'd know that would be really, really scary). The roofing was folded over beneath us (it was as if the wind just blew the shingles, tar, and paper up and over in a big sheet), and we had to fix it. Simultaneously, Everett was up there with us, too, and I was horrified that he was going to wiggle off the edge at any second while we were trying to get the roof flapped back down.

The whole time, I just kept saying, "We need to fix the roof! We need to save Everett! What are we going to do, Willis? How are we going to do this?"

So . . . yep.

And, I'm not entirely sure how I managed to dream that night because I know I didn't sleep much. Maybe I managed to remember the dream because I didn't sleep much.

I've awakened a lot lately feeling like my jaw has been clamped down all night long.

This house stuff needs to get resolved, like, now.

We did find out that the appraisal on our current house went through (positively), so . . . now, we're just waiting to establish a closing date. Sooooo many baby steps.

House Situation Update

Here are the things that we learned today.

• The divorce of the woman buying our home will be final on May 8th.
• We are also waiting for the soon-to-be ex-husband's refinance (on their home) to go through. It's supposedly being underwritten today. Yes. I'm pretending to know what that means.
• I guess they may still be waiting for the appraisal report on our La Porte house, too, which is also unnerving.
• The sellers of the house we're buying supposedly didn't want to sign the extension for us, and they apparently have not yet handed the signed papers to their realtor. So, I'm a tad nervous about that right now. 
• Also, they (the sellers) apparently are only giving us a two week extension. So . . . there's that, too. (We signed an extension for our buyer for June 1st—after she was so explicit about taking possession of our house on April 30th—Hey! That's today!)

So, I'm really trying to not be discouraged. It's hard.

Making the Best of Home Purgatory

There has been so much happening around here. I can't complete a coherent thought. My short-term memory is absent. I'm trying not to be irritated by all the unknowns of right now, but it's really hard. Luckily, today brought some things to my attention that make it easier to avoid focusing on that irritation.

Firstly, we're pulling Nora from preschool at the end of April (due to the moving/unknowns of our life in the coming weeks). When I told her teachers, they were so kind to offer to let Henry join her on her last two days. So, today, Henry is at school with Nora. He has been so excited about it all week.

This morning, they were dressed in their special shirts that Lena made for them (Henry's monster shirt and Nora's "Nora" shirt with a penguin on it). I knew Nora would like for them to be matching.

Nora helped Henry all morning, and she told me she would take care of him at school. They were so excited and hugging each other all morning, and I am furious with myself for not grabbing the camera.

They both were ready for school in record time, waiting by the door. We were about ten minutes early to school. They didn't quite know how to handle that. Henry practically ran into the classroom when the door opened, and Nora stayed back with me giving me the last-minute hugs and kisses. He was ready, and he was so excited!

I got a call last night from the preschool in the neighborhood where we are moving (hopefully), and the lady said that they could only hold Nora's spot for one more day without the registration fee. It sounded like there wasn't any chance of Henry being able to go to school next year (no room at present), but . . . that's okay. He's probably more ready for preschool than Nora is, but it'll be alright. Everett will start getting bigger (and running soon!) and need some entertainment when Nora is gone, anyway. I went ahead, bit the bullet, and paid the fee—never having visited the preschool. The teacher was so communicative with me without ever having met me, and because of that, I took a leap of faith.


By the way, I'm able to write this blog post because my little buddy is taking a snooze—a rare treat for this moi.

After dropping off Nora and Henry this morning, I did some quick running around with Everett. I stopped at the grocery to buy toilet paper (we were in dire toilet paper straits—Henry's been toilet training). I parked next to a car that had an elderly gentleman in it who was asleep, and it appeared that he might even be living out of his car. Well, I hoped he was asleep. As I went inside the store, I was pondering what I should do (if I should do) anything. The guy was parked right next to the store (not in the back of the lot). I was seriously afraid he could be dead in there. I wondered if I should tap his window to see if he'd wake up. At the same time, I didn't want to draw attention to him if he were truly just there sleeping (and trying to survive). Luckily, I was so preoccupied with him and getting Everett out of the car with me, I forgot to grab my purse. So, I got the opportunity to run back outside and look at the guy one more time. He was sitting up, thank goodness. As I left, I was pondering if there was anything I could or should have done for him, and I couldn't come up with any good ideas. Sometimes, people just want to be left alone. I know sometimes, they don't, though. If I had bought more than just toilet paper, I would've considered giving him some food or something. I hate those moments where I wonder if I could've done something to help, and I think I might have just passed it by. Maybe if I weren't such a flake . . .

In other news, we have no idea what our closing date is on our current house. We've hit some serious snags with our buyer and her pending divorce. All we can do is wait. We hope to, at least, get a tiny bit of news today. It's really been frustrating. Home purgatory—that's what I'm calling it.

Also, work has been really, really serious for both of us (Willis and me). So . . . we have a collective heart raisin. It's a thing. Google it.

---

Okay. I had to take a break to pick up the kids.

Apparently, Henry did really well at school, but ever since I picked him up, he's been fairly heinous. It's kind-of hilarious. Here. Look.


He wanted nothing to do with me taking his picture.

Well, I suppose this experience means that maybe he's not really ready for Preschool just yet. Who knew?

Just for kicks, here are some snapshots of the other two monkeys.

That's what's happenin'. Dilly out.

Everett

Everett's really started to express himself lately. Since the beginning, he's seemed to be highly interested in what the other two kids are doing. Lately, he's taken to a weird, sort of army-crawl thing. He's pretty much crawling for real, but it's just so funny. He doesn't take the time to really get it right because he's in such a hurry. He gets to where he wants to go, though, and you know what? I have a feeling he's going to be a lot like Henry. (He likes deadly stuff.)

So, that's happening.

He just popped his two top teeth out two nights ago. Prior to that night, he had been consistently waking in the night since he was probably about four months old (he's nearly nine months old, now). That night, he slept through the night, only waking once at 10 p.m. (I was nervous that it was going to be a rough night since he woke so early in the night). He awoke at nearly 6 a.m., for those who wonder what "sleeping through the night" truly means.

Now, he seems to have a cold again, so we didn't get much sleep again last night. Dern it.

In other Everett news, the phone rang a little while ago, and I couldn't help but notice that he craned his head around to peek at me and see my face (maybe even to see who it was I was talking to). He seemed strangely interested in what I was doing. I have a feeling he's going to start picking up phone-shaped items and going, "HEOO!" soon.

It's sad that this little guy won't remember this house . . .

She's Funny

The kids are napping right now (well, it's nap time), and Henry's been crying off an on throughout. (He's got a fever and a gross cold again.)

He started crying again just now, and I heard Nora say, "Are you serious?"

Pffthahaa!

Everett's First Haircut

Yeah. I know it's Valentine's Day. I also know that it has secretly been bothering my husband a little that Everett's hair is growing right over his ears. So, today, I thought I'd do the romantic thing. You know, like you do.

I gave Ev his first haircut. He seemed a tad apprehensive.

But, we got through it fairly painlessly.



Best, first haircut ever! He's still fuzzy, even!

Bad Sword

Lately, Henry's been battling a bit of a diaper rash. Every now and then, he'll do a weird, little, wiggle dance.

I'll ask, "Hey. What's goin' on over there?"

Henry will say, "My bottom's hurting. I've gotta bad sword."

And, no. He's not talking about his anatomy (well, he is, but not with regard to the word sword in the way that some people like to use it). He's trying to say, "sore."

This is why having kids can be hilarious.

Nora's Belated Birthday

We did finally get around to letting Nora blow out some candles. You know, after the RSV resort/hospital stay.

Please excuse the gross plates.

We even let her open presents. We're so generous.




I'm pretty sure Nora took this picture.

Also, that poor, little cake was rather stale on the outside. It was fairly depressing. It was still tasty, though.

Everett

Nora and Henry were getting really rambunctious and screamy at dinner. They were so loud, in fact, that Everett screamed really loud in absolute displeasure at them. They saw his face, and they stopped. I said, "Guys! He doesn't like that."

They stopped. He was fine.

Hilarious.

I Want to Remember This

This morning, the kids slept until almost 7 a.m. (HALLELUJAH!). I was still in that lovely place between sleep and awake when they came out of their room. Here's what I heard their little voices saying as I lay there.

Henry: Where's Daddy? Oh, no! Daddy's gone! I didn't get to talk to him! (He sounded clearly distraught about this.)

Nora: Don't worry, Henry. Daddy will be back tonight. (She's usually the one who is terribly distraught when her daddy leaves without saying goodbye.)

Henry: Huh? He be back tonight? Okay.

---

Willis has been having to leave the house by 6 a.m. to get to work in Gary, so he's been skipping the goodbye kisses to let us all get a little more sleep in the morning. The kids always notice that he's gone, and they're always so sad. They're always cheering each other up about it, too. So stinkin' sweet. And sad.

RSV 3, Browns 0. Game. Set. Match.

Everett has RSV, and it's likely Nora does, too (they didn't really need to test her because even if she's positive, the outcome is still going to be the same). She obviously has the same cold thing that the boys do, and tonight, she felt warm.

Luckily, neither Nora nor Everett need to be hospitalized at this time. As of this evening, Henry was starting to perk up a bit. He still has some ground he has to cover, though. He's pretty furious that he isn't allowed to leave the room. He keeps asking to put on his "yellow coat and go to the car."

We now have a nebulizer that looks like a seal (seriously. The animal). I'm not sure that was a good idea (it wasn't mine!). Henry's going to want to snuggle that guy when he comes home.

The penguin cake is in the fridge after I realized that I didn't want to attempt to carry it into the hospital with Everett, Nora, our dinner, etc. in the horizontal ice/snow that was happening up here. Let's all hope that it isn't disgusting when we actually get a chance to stick candles on it and cut into it.

The NP at the pediatrician told me today that a lot of times, people will take their children to the hospital and just leave them there (she wasn't saying this was a good idea. She was disparaging it. Swearsies). I was like, "Even if they're, like, two!?"

"Yeah. And, then the nurses have to call the parents to come get the kids."

"NO WAAAY!"

That's a thing, I guess. I'm pretty sure Henry would tear the walls down if we did that, and then, he'd implode. You probably think I'm exaggerating.

Anyway, Nora's sleeping soundly, now, and Everett's getting a breathing treatment in my lap. We're hoping tomorrow is a little more, um, fruitful.

Okay. Uncle!

After an entire day of Henry screaming pretty much non-stop, I decided to call the doctor to try to get him in today. I got him an appointment for 4 p.m. with the pediatrician.

During the feeble nap attempt, I finished up Nora's cake (Yep. Nora's birthday today, by the way), tried to do some work, and then, nap time was pretty much over. (Henry couldn't sleep, and that means Nora didn't, either.)

My friend Lisa offered to take Nora and Everett for me while I took Henry to the doctor. On the way out, I met Frank outside, and he told me, officially, that Dolores had gone. Meanwhile, Nora was so excited to see Frank (she hasn't probably seen him since, like, November), she unloaded her entire two-months of life out in shouts while he and I were conversing. Ugh. She didn't seem to even hear what he said or notice that he was sad. I guess when it's your fourth birthday, that happens.

Then, I saw him taking down his outdoor Christmas decorations alone. I just wanted to get out and go hug him or help or something.

I thought the doctor was going to be a quick trip. It wasn't.

The appointment didn't actually happen until about 4:40, and when it did, it was a series of tests along with a breathing treatment for Henry. It turns out that Henry has RSV. His oxygen levels were so low, they wanted to admit him to the hospital.

This made sense to me (the oxygen levels thing) because for a good portion of the day, Henry wasn't making a whole lot of sense. After nap time, I noticed he had a fever again, too.

So, now, after a small breakdown in the parking lot (Willis met me there, and I wilted), after picking up Nora and Everett at Lisa's, and after leaving Henry and Willis at the hospital, the birthday girl and I are still trying to get to sleep. Maybe tomorrow she'll get to blow out four candles on that penguin cake.

Henry will be at the hospital through tomorrow, and we are hoping that he'll only have to be there 24 hours. We're also hoping that neither Nora nor Everett (especially, since he's so small) end up there, too.

I need to eat something before I go lay down . . .

Unreal

We Have Loved Thy Neighbor

I think may have been standing in my kitchen when my neighbor, Dolores, passed today. I was trying not to look through the windows (from mine) next door, but I couldn't help it. There were cars all over our street. There were people filling their house. I could just feel the grief. I could even see them standing there, waiting. Then, I think I saw them crying.

When we first moved here, I used to somewhat hyperventilate at how close our house was to our neighbors' houses, but after awhile, I began to really, really embrace it. In fact, I started to love it. (I grew up with my nearest neighbors being a quarter mile away.)

Dolores was diagnosed with cancer back in November. When Frank told me, I was stunned. Seconds before the news, I had been frustrated—yelling at Henry because we needed to get into the house (God knows I was too busy with everything just prior to the holidays), and Henry was trying to open the garage door to get to the trikes. When Frank told me, the garage door or getting inside or the holidays weren't so important anymore. I remember walking into the house and realizing my face was soaking wet. It wasn't raining.

I could tell Frank knew it was serious—even if the doctors had expressed hope. His face said it all. I don't even think I heard what he said beyond, "Dolores has cancer," and, "We had no warning," and, "She just lost her balance one day."

Dolores had been ripping giant plants out of the ground from the roots just a few months prior. I was 10 months pregnant with Everett, and I'd watch her move in her yard with such ease to the point of where I'd say to myself, "That woman is in better shape and stronger than I am! I can only hope to be that awesome at that age."

I had wondered, however, if something had gone wrong recently. I started noticing that they had more visitors than usual (prior to Frank's news), and at one point, I do remember seeing a walker through the window (again, I couldn't help but to notice/look). I feared that maybe she had fallen and broken a hip. I had not even imagined cancer.

I delivered Christmas cookies to their house just prior to Christmas, and Frank informed me that Dolores was in the hospital but hoped to be home for Christmas (which is also her birthday). He seemed pretty hopeful at the time that she'd be able to achieve that goal and remain home comfortably. It's so sad that he didn't get to have those hopes fulfilled.

Nora and Henry love to stand on our fence and holler at/chat with Dolores when she's outside working in their garden. I'm pretty confident that Nora may have even professed her love to both Dolores and Frank this summer across the fence (which means Henry did, too—copycat). Dolores always talks to them, and her voice is so stinking sweet. How am I ever going to explain to them where she has gone?

She was our neighbor, and we loved her. 

Nora-Jenny Comparison: January 2012

I saw the idea for this photo theme on Pinterest, and I had to try it out. I have a daughter after all, and you know I love me some photo comparisons.



We aren't nearly the supermodels as the chicks in the original idea photo, but we're having fun with it. Nora was so good about trying to make the right face. I showed her the photo and told her what I wanted to do. She's better at facial expression control than I am.

You can't really tell, but we have the same hairdo today, too.

I didn't even Photoshop this sucker. I probably should've. I'm not even wearing makeup. Yikes.

Anyway, this is us. Nora is very nearly four years old going on 30, an I'm 30 years old going on four.

I'm going to try to do this semi-regularly. And, by regularly, I mean, like, maybe once or twice a year.

Henry was climbing all over us when we were doing this, too, so it was really hard. 

That is all.