We have chubby babies...everyone knows this. Here is some more, irrefutable proof.
Lovin on each other as opposed to the preferred attention method as of late: the sit on Sistah's chest whilst sporting a poopy diaper. Ahh, good times.
Long ago, in a land far away lived an unruly scourge with an equally untameable mane.
She's SO cute...I really do want to eat her.
A look like this precedes most household disasters. FYI, doggies do not like to be locked in the pantry...especially when a darty, twitchy little two-year-old opens the door sporadically to scream inside.
Oh look, she's eating...again.We love our kids the way Spring loves sunshine, the way out-of-shape midsections love Control Top pantyhose, the way Brad Pitt loves razors...no, wait... (seriously, it's looking kinda scary though, right?)
We'd be lying if we said we were/are/will be prepared for the next round of Kovi takes his pee-soaked diaper off and whaps his sister in the head, or Ever's mouth-fart soliloquy makes the well-dressed older woman at Belk think Mommy's rude.
But for all the mayhem, we're better people. Not necessarily calmer or more rested, but definitely better.
Thanks Kiddos!
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