Super Noob [Search results for running] 

You remember the old dance "The Running Man," right? I can do that, actually. But that's not what this post is about.

This post is about running, as in sneakers on the feet, feet hitting the pavement, joints screaming out in agony, running. Yeah. That kind of running. I've been doing quite a bit of that. Well, quite a bit for me in any case. I am up to 3.2 miles two days during the week, and 6.7 miles on Saturday. I think when I get to 7 miles I Saturday, I'll just stay there and not bump it up anymore.

It started with my aunt asking me if I wanted to participate in the half marathon in San Diego this June. I, like a fool, said yes. Then...she let me know that the weekend doesn't work out for her after all. By that point, I had already built up to about 6 miles on my Saturday runs, and there ain't no way I'm stoppin' now! I decided to just hang out at the 3, 3, 7 until about October. Then, I'll start adding mileage again, and do the half in January in Phoenix.

I can honestly say, I NEVER had any ambition to do a half marathon. Not for a second. I am not a runner. Really. Running and I just don't see eye to eye. BUT. I am not a quitter, so I'm just going to do it. Heck, I am running just about 7 miles every Saturday right now anyway...what's a few more?

Meanwhile, I think I'll go have another cadbury egg.

I have been on this quest to lose the rest of my I shoved everything I could get my hands on into my face baby weight. Let me clarify one point here while I am at it. The weight I still have to lose is from my first child. After number two, I was back to pre-baby #2 weight within six months. My daughter was nine months old when I conceived my son, and needless to say, I was not back to my old self yet. Now I am within ten pounds (8.5 to be precise), and the going is so so so slow.

I weight train three times each week and I do my cardio an additional three times (okay, if I am being honest I do it twice with all intentions of doing it three). One thing I do not like to do is run. Oh I was on this little running kick a while back and I slowly increased my ability to run from like half a mile to about three miles. However, it was not helping me shed the weight any faster, and as I mentioned...I do not enjoy running. When I hear my friend talk about the "runner's high" I look at her as if she amazingly just began speaking Russian. I don't get it. I can appreciate how the body emits endorphins which create that (elusive for me) runner's high...but I still don't get it. I mean it literally, it doesn't happen for me.

This all leads me to where this is coming from to begin with. I went running tonight. Yes, I made a conscious decision to self torture. Not two minutes into the run my knees start to ache, and my breath is coming out in huffs strong enough to sway the tree branches as I pass. Really...I saw them move. All this in the name of my last few vanity pounds.

Now here's the deal...I have not ever had a skinny build. I have an athletic frame (and no, that doesn't mean heavy). My closest friend is super tall and super thin, and you look at her and say "she's a runner." Currently I can look at myself in the mirror, and while I sometimes see a glimpse of my former self, I mostly say "she's a cookie eater." Except I'm not. Well, not all the time anyway. I only allow myself indulgences one day each week. But for honesty's sake, I must admit that sometimes on that one day each week, I way overindulge. Not every time, but at least one third of the time.

Running. Sigh. Running and I are not friends, but we are going to have to at least learn to live together for a little while. Because one way or another, I will wear all my clothes again. I don't care if by the time I fit in them, they are no longer in style. I will walk out of the house in my vintage clothes with my head held high. Men will sing the song "Baby's Got Her Blue Jeans On" as I walk by. Er...okay, at the very least my husband will sing that song ;) Until then, get used to me, running because I am moving in for a while.

As my daughter careens toward her third birthday I am plagued slightly troubled by thoughts of what is yet to come. See, she is already so wilfull and mischievous and smart, and...I think you get the point. What scares me most is how similar in personality she is to me. Now that I am a mother, I have a greater appreciation for my own, and all that she endured. One might think I was hellbent on driving her over the deep end. I'm not saying I was a bad teenager, and that I got myself into major trouble. Nope, I was mellowed out (mostly) by then. I am referring to my days as a three year old...not that I remember much of them, but I cringe at some of the recounted tales.

It's 1979 and we are living in Worcester, Massachusettes (my mom's home town). My parents decided to live there for a little while, at my mom's request, to be near her family. My mom is hugely pregnant with my brother, and in no mood for my shenanigans. So she sends me out front to play (I still can't believe there was ever a time when that was okay). After an unpsecified amount of time elapses, she looks out the window to check on me. No Shannon...I wasn't Mamma then ;). Having a brief moment of panic, she goes out front for further inspection. Strewn about the sidewalk are my clothes. With much effort, she bends to retreive my articles from the sidewalk, only to find they are wet...like super soaker style. Blood pressure rising, she looks to the right. Still no Shannon. Looks to the left and there is Shannon, running naked from the waste down. She hollars calls sweetly for me to get my little butt over to her. All sugar and innocence, I come to my mom. My mom rushes me inside to put on clean pants, chastizing me all the way about not peeing in my clothes. "Shannon, when you need to go potty, you don't go in your clothes!" "Okay, momma." I say sweetly. "Can I go back outside to play now?" Of course she lets me...like any mother, she was anxious for any precious moments of peace she could muster.

For the second time, I am outside playing, mom is inside. Time passes, and reluctantly she hefts herself up to check on me. Expecting to see me galavanting down the street with the other little boys and girls, she coems to the window and stares in silent horror at the scene layed out before her. Her daughter, to whom she had told just moments before "we don't go potty in our clothes" was not in fact going potty in her clothes. Nope. Her daughter was squatting on the sidewalk right in front of the house, taking a poop. Paralyzed, my mom doesn't know what to do. Clearly she has to retreive her demon spawn angelic child, and get her into the house. Yet the thought swimming in her head is one of the neighbors saying "I didn't know you had a dog" as she is stooped over scooping the poop. Fortunately for my mother, no one saw her when she did finally go out to clean my mess. In my defense...I did not go potty in my clothes.

If this story is not enough to have me running scared over what's to come, well I need not look any further than my mom's memory of me and my escapades for further horror material.

Mama M. is truly wonderful, and it has been quite some time since I have participated in her Five question Friday. So, even at the risk of running some off with my overdoingitness in the blog hop department, I am playng along today.

If you'd like to as well, you simply copy and past the questions into your own post, answer away, and link on up. Here goes...

1. Who would you want to play you in a movie of your life?
Sandra Bullock...pretty much hands down. Not based on looks, AT ALL. But just based on her personality. She is super quirky. I dig that about her. I'm pretty quirky myself (some say I'm just plain old weird, but I am not letting my illusion of cute quirkiness be shattered like that).

2. Did you ever go to summer camp?
Once. It was when I was 15. I was staying with my cousins in Chicago, and I went with them to a camp in North Carolina that was part of their church group. I had a great time, and still have find memories from that week.

3. What sends you running and screaming in the other direction?
Cockroaches. Nasty little critters. Now, I will catch and kill them, but it wigs me out...in a MAJOR way. I am always afraid the thing will escape my trap and touch me. Thank goodness we don't have an issue with them here or I would insist we move. To any place. Can't stand them!

4. What is something you do that drives your spouse nuts?
I actually posted about this a while back, and have a discussion here (come share after you're done reading, will ya?) about something similar. Without question it's my obsession with having the covers neat and straight before going to sleep. That's right, I don't make the bed when I get up, but before bed...I want perfection. It makes him batty, because if he's dared to get into bed before I've had a chance to straighten the sheets, I will just straighten around him. He gets mad every single time. You'd think he'd just get over it by now.

5. What is currently your favorite song?
Not that the song itself is current, but probably Need You Now by Lady Antebellum. Love it.

In my former life, I was a sales manager for Cintas Corporation. Part of my duties was to perform field rides with my sales reps. One fine day, I was out with “A",” one of my better reps, and we were meeting a potential client at the Hard Rock Cafe in Phoenix.

“A” and I sat at our table and informed the waiter we were waiting on someone who was running late. He took our drink order and left the table. Meanwhile, in all my newly engaged infinite wisdom, I removed my ring and began to apply lotion to my hands. Our drinks were brought over, and “A’s” phone rang. It was the prospect telling us he was later than expected, and would prefer to meet us closer to his office.

So, feeling guilty about having only ordered a diet coke, I tipped the waiter $7.00 on a $4.00 tab. We left.

Half way to the new rendezvous I realized my ring was not on my finger. Instant and breath taking panic. “Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God," was all that I could get out of my mouth. “A” asked what was wrong, and I told him. Immediately he turned his car around, and told me we would tear that place apart looking for it.

I called the Hard Rock, and spoke with some nit wit who went to check our table. Nope…not there. However, she kindly asked for my phone number and let me know she would call me if she found it. WHAT!!!???!?!??!?!??! Yeah, freaking RIGHT!!!!!!!!!! I told her I would be there in 5 minutes, and I wanted to speak with the manager.

The manager came on the line, I explained, he put me on hold to go ask the waiter if he noticed it. Came back on the line, and said “no…he didn’t see it.”

Upon arrival, I was a frantic mess, ready to storm the place and beat every last person to a bloody pulp if that’s what it would take to get the ring back. The manager greeted me and said “I think you better sit down.” Again…yeah right! He then informed me that the waiter did find the ring. I cried. He realized his attempt at humor (you better sit down for this news sort of humor), was a grave mistake.

Anyway, I think the waiter had it all along, but then found his conscience and decided to give it back. I also believe that had I not tipped him so much on a measly little check, that I wouldn’t have my ring today. That was one of the scariest experiences…EVER!

Thanks, Melis for inspiring me to tell my tale. :)

My four year old spent the day today as "Willy." As in Willy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. As in Johnny Depp, Willy. No, she didn't dress up. There was nothing going on for which she had to play a role. She simply decided that today...she was Willy. And Willy constantly referred to herself in third person. "Willy's full of this sandwich. Willy doesn't like animal crackers." I honestly didn't even know talking in third person was a skill a four year old would have. I should have known better.

Fast forward to bath time. Colton was already toweled off and went running, naked, out to the kitchen. I was drying off Willy when I hear Colton say to Finnegan (our dog) "wick my bunghole!" Yes. That was the cherry on the sundae that was my day. This is my life.

Contest Update:
First things first, for those of you who want to win a blog makeover, be sure to go back and read this now...or after you're done here. As for the contest...the currents stats are: Elizabeth at Our Journey Through Life has two points. Mindy at Part of Me also has two points, and Heidi at From 3 to 5 has one point. The contest is over January 1st, so there is still plenty of time to get in the running.

I am feeling stark raving mad slightly harried this morning with all that needs to be done. My husband's holiday party is being hosted here tomorrow, and I have not a thing done. That's right not one thing! Fortunately, Andy is taking the day off tomorrow to help me. I have decided to do all the cooking myself rather than cater (I must have made that decision after taking a long slow pull off the crack pipe). In addition to the meal, I need to make cookies, toffee and appetizers. Did I mention my house is not even party ready yet? There are toys still on the living room floor, the windows need to be washed (as do the floors) dusting needs to be done, the vacuuming is not taking care of itself, and the shopping fairy still has yet to make an appearance...sigh. I supppose I will have to do that myself too.

Needless to say, my usual oh so calm and put together self has been replaced by a stark raving lunatic. But the screaming, yelling, pouting, sassing and all around unpleasant behavior out of my two little ones this morning is totally helping. Yeah, helping to unravel the last of my rapidly fraying nerves.

So tomorrow will come, and it will either go off without a hitch, or I will be drooling in a padded room within the sterile walls of an asylum. I'm cool with that.

It's nice to not have to think too hard on Sunday. That's why I love to participate in Keely's Getting to Know You. She (with help this time) comes up with questions, and I just have to answer them. Nice. Here goes.

1. Where were you born?

I actually answered this question right here, in a whole post dedicated to getting to know me.
2. Toilet paper..do you crinkle/crumple or fold it?
Crumple. I want to sh!$ and get I guess...I don't pay a lot of attention to the procedures.

3. What was the last movie you saw in the theater?
I went to see New Moon with my cousin Thanksgiving night. That was the first time in I can't remember how long.
4. What room to you spend the most time in besides your bedroom?
The living room...during the day, the kids and I play there together, and at night I use my laptop there for a little while. Then Andy and I either play a board game together or watch a little t.v.

5. Would you be grossed out if you found out your husband/boyfriend/significant other hadn't brushed their teeth for 4 days and you had been snogging (kissing) them?
Okay...seriously if my husband hadn't brushed his teeth for four days I wouldn't be snogging him to begin with, because trust me, I would know.
6. Do you fold your underwear?
Nope. Total mayhem in the underwear drawer.

7. What is one goal you would like to achieve this year?
Honestly my list of goals is a running one. I didn't do a new list for the new year. If I had to choose one from the list to accomplish this year, I suppose it would be my desire to become more adept at taking pictures.
8. What is your favorite month/least favorite month?
I have never thought of this before. Hmmm. In Arizona, June on through to September pretty much have you feeling like you are living in the blazes of hell. But that doesn't make me dislike any of the months. I don't have one. How 'bout that?

If you haven't participated in this, you should. So go ahead, copy the questions into a post of your own and then link back to Keely. For those of you who just don't feel like it, I'd still love to see a couple of your answers. You can leave them right here in the comments.

Yep! This meme is packing up and moving out. Natalie of Mommy of a Monster (I mean toddler) and Infant Twins is going to host it from now on. She loves the meme so much that I immediately thought of her when I decided that I had had enough of running it. I will still participate when the mood strikes, but from now on, please head over to her blog to link up with your posts.

As far as I know, nothing else will change and I know she will be a most gracious and excellent host! Now hurry over to link your post up with her.

Since lately it seems I don't have an original thought in my cluttered head, I figured I would jump in with Mama M. and Five Question Friday. It's really fun, and honestly, I don't know why I haven't done it in a while. Just in a lazy blogger mode I think. So, now to answer her questions for the week.

1. Do you collect anything?
I wouldn't consider myself a collecter in the true sense...but I do have a p.j. fetish. Seriously, I can't even go by the p.j. area in Target without feeling a magnetic pull toward them. The absurd thing is that I rarely wear the cute ones I get. Like I'm saving them. For what? What the heck on earth am I saving them for?

2. Name 3 celebrities that you find good looking.
Matthew Mcconaughey, Jake Gyllenhaal (weird one, but whatever), and I don't know on number three.

3. Do you have any scars? If so, what's the story behind it (them)?
I probably have more than I can count. One in particular is like an arrowhead right under my right breast. When I was 5 I was wearing a tank top and went running past our car. The door handle was broken and I got too close. The handle tore a gash into my flesh (maybe I'm being a bit dramatic), and hence the pretty scar that never went away.

4. What is a food that you like to eat, but others might think it's gross or weird?
There are SO many of these for me. One is peanut butter and crackers with mustard. Don't even knock it. If you like all those things separately, you too may like them together. Or not.

Another is escargo. Oh so GOOD!

5. Have you ever seen a tornado in real life?
Everyday. It's name is My Children.

I didn’t get behind the camera this week for Julie’s Mom N’ Me Monday, so I had to dig for an old picture. I found this one, and thought it perfectly depicts life as I know it. Laugh or cry. Laugh or go insane. Laugh or just…be bald. I like to chose to laugh. I laugh when Addyson is yelling in my arms because her brother thought she might make a good teether. I laugh when I walk into the kitchen to find my newly put away clean pots and pans strewn about the dirty kitchen floor. I laugh when I find an entire package of napkins balled up and scattered in front of the water cooler…because Addyson had been playing with the water, and “cleaned” her own mess. I laugh when I am running late, searching for some last minute diaper bag items, am just about to leave, and Colton lets loose a huge mess in his pants. I laugh because if I don’t, then what? I laugh because my life is good. I laugh because I want to leach as much joy out of every single moment I am allowed here.

And yes, my laugh is as obnoxious as it looks.

Colton had surgery on Tuesday. It wasn’t anything major. He had an inguinal hernia. Apparently, sometimes when a baby boy’s testicles descend, the hole they come through doesn’t close up. Colton was one of these sometimes. All went well and you would almost never know he had anything done at all with the way he is running all over the place.

Before his surgery, I was waiting with him after he was dressed in his little tiny hospital gown. They gave him a medication (pre anesthesia) called versed. While slightly amusing, it was mostly disturbing to see my 2 year old son essentially drunk. His speech was slow and slurred, his eyes were glassy, and he would stare at drool marks he left on my shirt. Really, I was pretty amused. How on earth could I not be? Have you ever heard a 2 year old say “I wuuuv you” in the slurred voice of the town drunk? I suppose I should just feel good that in that state his thought was still to say he loves me ;)

His surgery went well and his hernia is repaired. They say he is no more likely to have a hernia later in life than anyone else. The procedure was outpatient, so he was home the same day, and very sleepy. Now he’s on the mend, and I am just glad to have it fixed. I’m sure he is too, even if he doesn’t realize it.

Today started like any other day, and frankly seems to be ending that way as well. The in between is where the crazy lives. My children behaved as if someone told them they would get a prize (though neither of the two little ones understand how a prize system works) if they could send me over the edge.

Like any other day, Colton went down for his nap about an hour and a half after breakfast. It is during this time, that I usually sneak in my shower. Addyson will lay in my bed and watch a short bit of t.v. while I am enjoying a long leisurly taking a military style shower. Most every day this goes off without a hitch. Most every day. Today was one of those days. You know the ones, right?

I get out of the shower and instantly hear Addyson and Colton jabbering over the monitor. I wrap myself in a towel and head into Colton's room. There's Addyson chewing away on something. Chewing as if she were a cow with a heaping wad of grass in her mouth.

Me: Addyson, what are you eating?
Addyson: Gum
Me: What? Where did you get gum? Spit it out into my hand right now!
Addyson: I like it.
Me: Well I know, but it is not good for you. How many pieces have you had?
Addyson: I don't know. Can I eat it Mamma?
Me: No, spit it out please.

She is spitting it out, and it is at this point that I look to Colton in his crib. He is also chewing. Fabulous. My son has had his first piece of chewing gum at the ripe old age of 14 months.

Later in the day I attempted to clean the living room. As I picked toys up and put them away, the kids took them right back out and scattered them again. After about an hour (I made a small dent), I gave up. It was time to just move on and accept, for yet another day, the state of chaos that is my living room. No joke.

Much later in the day, I am in the kitchen doing dishes, and getting dinner started. The kids are outside with Drew playing. I am watching them all through the window as I work. Colton trips over Drew's pogo stick, and does a face plant onto our brick patio. He now has the bruise to show for it, and I am looking forward to the many looks I will get from strangers while out and about.

Addyson at some point comes running in from outside. She has to pee. Emergency. You know, she can't be bothered to come in unless it is sound the alarm time. So anyway, I am taking her pants off to help her out and not a second after her pants come off, she starts to pee. We are in the kitchen mind you! I am thankful for tile floors. So what could I do but calmly hold her so it didn't get all over her feet and wait until she was done? If I could've done anything else, I didn't think of it. I lectured her while she urinated on my kitchen floor about waiting until the last minute, wiped her up, re-dressed her, and sent her back out to play. Thanks so much, my dearest Addyson. I needed the extra chore today.

My daughter has been in her toddler bed now for about a month or so. Really we have been fairly lucky. She stays in her bed when it's bedtime. But she is up much earlier than I would like. I think she has probably always woken early, but because she was in her crib, she would go back to sleep for a little bit. Now...no chance. Crack of dawn (I consider anything 6:30 or earlier the crack of dawn) and she is up and at 'em. Most mornings she comes in to our room and begins barking out her demands. Today I woke to "Pita chips, Mamma! My tummy feels hungry for pita chips." What?! Who the heck wakes up and says "yeah, I feel like I could eat some pita chips." My daughter, that's who.

So tonight, I put her to bed. Uneventful. Nothing out of the ordinary. I tuck her in, sing her the three required songs, kiss her good night then exit her room and quietly close the door behind me. Twenty minutes later, I hear her door open. Though at first I didn't know what it was, as this has never happened before. So I get up to investigate (insert horror movie music) and bump into her (not literally) in the the hallway. "I feel hot, Mamma. My head feels cold. I'm hot in my bed." So which is it? Is she hot or cold? I am confused because we went from 85 degree weather yesterday to 60 today. I go in and tuck her back in. All seems well again. Nope. Five minutes later, she comes out again. "There's a plane in my room, Mamma. My room is too noisy." Now this is getting ridiculous. I assure her there is no plane in her room, and that the only noise is that of her humidifier (which she has to have running for the white noise). I'm back in the living room not two minutes, and this time she comes out saying she has to pee. She did. Have to pee that is. I finally took her back to bed, explained that we have a playdate at the park tomorrow so she needs to rest well. She has not been out since. Trust me, that is a very good thing because if I hear about a plane in her room or that she is hot or cold one more time...I might lose the fragile grip I have had on my sanity today. For now...there is peace.

Sunday I had the anxiety pleasure of photographing a wedding. Yikes! Who the heck do I think I am? Well, to be fair, I did tell her I wasn’t so sure I was the right person for the job, but she wanted me to do it. Careful what you wish for?

It was an amazing experience, and the whole thing was very relaxed. Truly a great “getting your feet wet” sort of experience. However, there were some very specific challenges. For one, the ceremony was at 1:10pm in bright sun, with no shade. Not exactly a recipe for photographic success.

Now for the fun task of sorting through over one thousand pictures, painstakingly trying to weed out the losers, editing the keepers (and I am a novice at best with editing), and getting them to the bride. Sigh. Here might be a fun place to mention that after spending at least 6 hours on editing these babies, I was looking at a couple today when Addyson yanked the power on my Mac. Gone. All the editing, poof…just gone. It corrupted that particular catalog in my Lightroom. I have all the originals, but all that work. **tears running down face…bald patches on head…fifty lashes on Addyson’s (oh, right…that last one is not true at all)** I think I lacked the energy to really be mad about it.

Okay…moving on. I’m sure a few pictures are in order. So without anymore fanfare, here they are…

Now for a maternity session on Saturday!

Usually if MckMama isn't running the show on this, I don't bother doing it since the link isn't up. Today, I am throwing caution to the wind, in a wild and crazy abandon sort of way! Before you know it I will be swigging my beer right from the bottle and going out in public looking like I am fresh out of bed...wait, I do do that!

Moving right along. This week, I did not let my laundry pile up to the point where I had no clean underwear. If I had done that, I certainly would never have just thrown my jeans on sans undies, and go out to run my errands with the kids. Nope...never.

I did not tell my husband this past week to go to the doctor to get this cough he has checked out or I would be ticked off if something was wrong with him. I would certainly be more sensitive than that considering the cough has been going on for about a month now.

Seeing as how I always have an abundance of energy, I would never try to sleep for ten extra minutes after I know my daughter is up, raoming the house, left to her own devices. After not staying in bed the extra ten minutes, I did not go into my son's room to find that my daughter had gotten into our "candy" drawer and decided to help herself and her baby brother to a container of tic tacs. The tic tacs were not all over his bedroom floor and inside his crib! That would just be totally irresponsible parenting. I am always aware of my children.

Oh...and look at that. I just noticed MckMama got her Not Me! post up, so head over and link yours up as well. Or, if you so desire, just comment here.

"You Know You’re a Mom When-sDAZE" is a great way for us, as parents, to make light of our trials and tribulations. Our day to day run-ins with the crazy little people in our lives we call children. The very people we simply couldn’t live without. Just share what has you knowing you're a mom (or dad) today, and then come link up. It can be anything...a picture, story, or a bunch of "you know you're a mom whens..."

You know you’re a mom when, even though you are well hydrated, you gulp down two thirds of a huge glass of water because you are about to hand it over to the toddler who wants a sip.

You know you’re a mom when you can discern a “mad cry” from a “tired cry” and a “fake cry” from a “hurt cry.”

You know you’re a mom when you recognize that the hurt cry has different levels…and which level requires immediate action on your part, and which level you blow off a little. You know, just so they don’t come running to mamma with every little knick, scrape and bump.

You know you’re a mom if you have ever been embarrassed in public by a person not yet three feet tall. For instance “Mom, does that lady have a baby in her tummy?” As she points to a rather large (and totally un-pregnant) woman. Or “I FARTED!!!” Said at the loudest decibel possible, and with gusto I might add.

Can’t wait to see what has you all knowing you’re a mom today. Come link ‘em up!

It has been one of those days. Specifically one of those days which has me sitting on the couch at this very moment, stuffing my face with a huge cadbury cream egg, and thinking about another. If I didn't have to wake up at 6am to go running, I'd be having wine along with it. Yes. That kind of day.

I'm not sure if I wake up and my patience is already wearing thin, or if the kids gang up and decide to see how far they can push me. Or maybe it's a bit of both. Whatever it is, it leaves me feeling wasted. Feeling like I'm 95 years old...and wasted.

I love these kids more than any other thing on earth...but MAN! My mother said I'd have one just like me. I'm proud to report she's wrong. I had TWO just like me. Defiant, stubborn, strong-willed and just wild. Fortunately for them (or I'd throw them right out the window), they are smart, loving, compassionate, adorable and mine ;)

I never forget how blessed I am to have such amazing little people in my life...but days like today have me counting the minutes, no seconds, until bedtime.

Goodnight my little angels. I can't wait to do it all again tomorrow.