Black. White.

Doing a Photo Challenge, this was fun, and thanks to the challenge I am falling in love with FREE photo editing software from Picnik. My goodness is photo editing fun! So the challenge had to have B&W picture of one of my kids. People kids or fuzzy kids count.

Here is my Weaky Man, at the Fair, we stopped for a break and Queen had the camera and he was ALL up in her face! Love how he’s looking through the camera right to you.

Be sure to check out the wizard who came up with the challenge over at The Paper Momma

This is my first time reading her, found her on a comment from anther blogger commenting somewhere else… you get my point. Us bloggers are a fantastic community!

Enjoy your day!

Feisty

Morning!

This is a morning I wish for. This was last week. I do believe the last time I saw sunshine. Now it is literally a grey wall of grey. No clouds. No dimension. Just GREY. So let’s pretend it looks like the above every day!

 

This morning I was TRYING my best to get Bagel to give me a cute pose… not happening. It’s hard when it’s forced, but she was cute, and I wanted it.

We often start out with the back shot. So lucky me I get the front and back of cute outfits.

Then with a whole bunch of these shots… of grumpy frumpy little girl… and one of her brother sneaking a peek from the basement… (too cute!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I got what I wanted. I SO wish I could pull of these outfits myself. Mind you I have to loose about 30 lbs, and about 12 years off my age, then sure I could. So I live my love of funky passion through her!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks for the pictures Bagel. Mommy loves you. xo…

Feisty

Viking Boy.

I thought this was fun to share. This is what I wanted to capture, it's the right before age 2 Weaky, and it's the gibberish talk, that is more talk then gibberish, and the sweetest little guy ever.

He just got this fun little castle from Gramma (she was just leaving in the video) and the scary tounge dragon is from the McD's happy meal toy. Plus the bad ass box turns into Viking horns. Awesome. Enjoy!

Ceeezzz

Random Weaky Man pictures...

Here is Weaky sitting on the counter assisting me in making blueberry muffins. He wanted to put his hand in the mixing bowl, but for sanitary reasons I let him play with a wisk instead.

This picture above is my favorite right now. He is all squinty eyed because he is saying "Ceeeeeezzzz" I LOVE it. My heart melts when he does this, because it is followed by a kiss from him. A side note, this kid is the kiss Natzi, he NEVER gives them out. Hmrph. Makes me appreciate them lots when I do though!

Other side note this was 11:30 last night. He didn't want to sleep, and I didn't want to clean the kitchen. So I thought if I brought some company into the kitchen with me, it would be more fun. He drank from his Nemo straw cup, ate cheese, and ham piects like a big boy, and I cleaned half the kitchen like a big girl.

More random Weaky-ness.

This is his Cookie. He LOVES his Cookie.

So much that he feeds him.

I found this today after lunch...

And that is your dose of too fucking cute not to share.

Baby Weaky

OMG. I am SO tots excited! I swear I am a true blonde, but I did just figure out that with my SD card reader I can upload videos to YouTube. No shit.

Check out my test video. It made me cry. It's baby Weaky at 11 weeks old. He looks like a bobble head, and he had such fuzzy brown hair! And it's SO long! (side note. That kid had 8 hair cuts before his first birthday!)


In my defense, I am not a dumb blonde, I just have an old ass CPU that HATES any camera software I upload so the whole cable to the camera and right to the computer is a no go for us. So since I am still a few months new to this SD card reader, I think I have found a new toy... best $10. Eva.

Random coffee induced post...

Random is a good word for this hot mess I am about to type. Got lots to say. None of it really post worthy material. Enjoy...

• I made bad ass good coffee this morning. If you care to know I drink Starbucks Espresso Blend coffee every morning.
• Why is my "save now" over on the far right?
• Why is it that I have to poop every time I get a chance to blog? Could be the coffee...
• I am still in love with the SD card reader. It has SAVED my blogging life.
• I am SO in love with staying home today. It's 3 degrees out. But feels like -17.
• So I switched over to the newer blogger. Umm... where the new post page is. But I don't have spell check? That is a problem. Until then I am not responsible for any spelling errors.
• The Save Now is getting weird. It is saving every 10 seconds.
• I still have to poop... farted... now I can focus better...
• Is it me or does everyone else sing the Mickey Mouse "Hot Dog Dance" in there head all day?
• I can't wait till Sunday. We are leaving for Wisconsin Dells! Staying at the Kalahari indoor waterpark. It's fucking bad ass. It's been 5 years and 3 weeks since we last stayed. I can't wait to see what the kids think.
• I made my FIL his 50 damn handmade Christmas Cards, they are awesome. Now need to finish mine! I have 18 of my 35 done. Just waiting for their Stickles glitter to dry! I will post a picture soon.
• BRB...
• Alright, finally gave in to pooping. To much farting for me, sharfing in your own home is not cool.
• Then Bagel needed me to get her a different doll house from the 3 degree attic. (she has many doll and toy houses, BUT in my defense only one is from Christmas, the rest are garage sale toys, and most are from when I was a kid)
• Weaky is happy. He gets the WHOLE front toy room, and the Mickey Movie ALL to himself. Bagel is at the age where she likes to go in her room, away from her brother. And that means Blog time for mommy!
• I am hosting Christmas Eve, and I have LOTS to pick up around the house. (like boxes of crap to go through, that have been cleaned from a room, and I just put them in the loft. There are some in the kitchen, and basement t.v. room. Just pure I don't wanna, and a bit of Where do I put it?)
• Bagel is less irratating to me. The 3.5 version is WAY more fun then the whiney 2.5 to 3 yr old version was. Plus I do think I am out of my postpartum funk, and seem to scream less. Glad that they won't remember that.
• Bagel just said to me I am going poopy on the potty. And then she asked Do you wanted to smell it? I said No thanks. She responded with If you say so.
• I can't wait for Christmas with the kids. I should do a post on what they are getting. I know you can't wait right?
• I think I'm done rambling for now. Gots me some laundry to do, and kids to attend to. Miss me!

18 months of happy

I can't say this enough Weaky Man...You light up my day.

When you wake in the morning, I can just hear happy in your voice.
Your patience is a virtue, that you get from you father. You seem to be able to wait forever for me to get to you.
When I go into your room you are happy and giggly.
And you always have a BIG muah ready for me!


You are the best at eating. Amazing that just a year ago Dr. B was all over mommy and daddy about feeding you more, more weight, and just 6 months ago he was trying to find out why you weren't thriving. Well Dr. B, let me just tell you that solid food was the key. This little boy just can't get enough food now!

Still tiny, just around 23 lbs, but growing fast each day!



You have your moods. You HATE to get your diaper changed, and washing your face is next to impossible. You squirm and shriek and try to bury your face!

Brushing your teeth is your favorite thing to do, but getting that tooth brush out of your hands is next to impossible!


You love to walk, and kick balls, you can crawl fast up the stairs (still to short to walk them) you come down them by scooting on your butt (with mom's supervision!) You love music, and clap and do this sort of finger snap thing to the beat.


You conquer and destroy most everything. You find a basket, and pull EVERYTHING out. Then moving on to the next thing to destroy!




You talk all the time. Right now it's mostly gibberish. I can hear a definite "Ma" or "mom" from you all the time.

You say, Gigi, Gramma, and Daddy.


And I must be honest. When I was first pregnant, and I found out I was having your sister, I thought my life was complete. I thought having a little girl was what would make my heart just complete.


And I love my Bagel to pieces. She is SUCH a little me, sometimes it's a bit much. But in her face is her daddy, which I love.

And then I became pregnant again, and I found out I was having a boy. I was excited. I don't have any nephews, and I am one of the youngest of my cousins, so I was never around baby boys.


You were new to me, and I found you to be mysterious. You SO much different then your sister. You are louder, your dirtier, your pushier, you LOVE to climb everything and anything (you still haven't gotten the "gravity" thing yet, your just fearless!) and your just ALL boy.


I have fallen head over heals in love with you. I love to see that you look like me. I love that you resemble your Papa Carrots. I love that your a mamma's boy.


I love that at night I have to rock you, and calm you down from your days busy and excited schedule of toys and Sprout t.v. I love to rock you. I don't think I rocked Bagel enough. That time goes so fast. So we snuggle at night, in the dark, in your rocker. Then I tuck you in with a kiss, and you are asleep by about 8 pm.

Weaky. Happy is what you make me. I can't wait to enjoy the rest of our lives together.


Weaky is a ...
dirt loving,
monster growling,
muah kisser,
wookie pincher,
food loving,
exploring,
mamma's boy.

Happy 18 months! I Love you. Mommy

Weaky

My boy.

Weaky. In the beginning of this blog, I called him Spike (Mohawk as a baby) Weaky was because he squeaked when he cried as a baby (Bagel said Weaky instead of Squeaky) and it stuck.

Born to us April 25th 2008, he is the newest addition to the family.

Even though he's just 16 months, and not much talking and just started walking, he is not the shy little boy I thought I had. He is a bull dog of sorts, with a strong personality, maybe because of his sister and his need to defend himself from her strong opinions, and toy thieving ways.

He is a cuddlier, and a kisser, a head butter and a biter. He is the most amazing little man, and as much as I love my daughter to the moon and back, there is SO something different about a mother and a son.

A knowing that no matter what, I will always be his first love. The one girl who will ALWAYS be by his side, and will never back down in his defense. I love him endlessly, and can't wait to see how he grows as a boy and into a man.

I love you Weaky Man. For more of my favorite stories, go here for a dose of true SAHM insanty or to see a baby wear a cake go here.

What is in Weaky's diaper, mom?

While changing Weaky's diaper, Bagel walks over. Looking confused she (finally) asks me,

"Mom, what is that in Weaky's diaper?"

I wasn't surprised, knowing this was coming, and actually surprised it wasn't sooner, I told her it was Weaky's weenie.

She said "ok, I'm going to go play now"

So what do you call it? For a boy? What do you call girl parts? So far Bagel just calls it all her butt.

Walking Weaky Men

Enjoy history in the making. Weaky man took not only his first steps today, but alot of them. We would have him walk from the hall to the couch and back, about 15 feet. It was so great for Spaghetti and me to both be present for this!

At 15 1/2 months old, I wasn't worried, but we weren't not trying to get him to walk at every chance. This was Tuesday the 11th of August when he first walked.

Now not even a week later, he will just get up and walk to where he wants to go! I am so excited to have my little man walking! Congrats Weaky! Love you!!


This my devoted readers is the handsomest little man I have ever seen!

I mean can you resist the Frankenstein walk?

He was SO proud of himself walking today, he would clap and yell just like we would.

Spaghetti and Bagel cheering him on...

AAAAaaaaa!!! A thumbs up from Daddy and Weaky! (I know, D, not a high 5)

Stand. Squat. Stand. Squat. Flop.

Weaky is SO close to walking, I can smell it... well maybe that's his diaper... but you know what I mean.


He can walk around furniture, and is starting to reach for a further away piece to keep walking. But still flops to his butt each time. He is the FASTEST crawler ever!


But especially today. He just keeps standing on his own. He does some funny squats. Stands. Then flops onto butt again.


But he's trying. And we are sure to give him a HUGE round of applause for each big boy stand. My oh my. Where did my babies go? I have a big girl pants wearer, and a almost big boy stander/walker!

Bootie Cracka!

How can you NOT just love butt crack from a 1 year old? I mean isn't that priceless? Yes he has a diaper on, it must be his low rise ones, I couldn't help but take a picture of this! Maybe it's my odd obsession with butts... hope you enjoyed!

1 year to forever

A year ago... 3 weeks ago...

How you grew my little man. Your getting bigger, and stronger, your learning to sign eat, and you clap when you do good. You point and grunt when you want things. Your learning to become more and more independent.

You still cling to me when ever you can, and I love being "that person," your person, your mommy. I love every minute of it. I can't wait for the rest of our life together, to watch you grow, explore and learn this world of ours.

I want to be right along side you for your journey. I hope you tell me every detail of your life. I hope you never get sick of me asking for more details. I want you to be a big strong guy, but one who still calls his mom every day to just say hi.

I love you. More then my life.

Mommy

"The Adventures of an Incurable Optimist" a daily adventure we should all take

I watched Michael J. Fox's documentary of "The Adventures of an Incurable Optimist" it was a journey he took, trying to find out different things about us optimists.

If being an Optimist is genetic? If your into the arts are you more Optimistic, since your working to be in a field were they say it will not pay? How does an optimistic person get by on day to day? And do we function as Optimists as a group?

I enjoyed the paper guy, a guy who stands at the top of the subway, handing out the free papers. His other job. He said "each day is a new opportunity"

I agree. A new day to be a new me. A skinnier, happier, more organized, less lazy, more the old happy go lucky me, then the bitter, and short tempered newer me.

I think optimism is genetic, I do believe that my parents were real with me. But we always looked to the brighter side. It's much prettier then the other side.

Now don't get me wrong. I am realistic at times. I have to be. We all do. But I see each challenge in my life as a tool to learn, and to grow from. It could always be worse, a line my mother often says. And it's true. Sure I have RLS (restless leg syndrome) and my back and legs are crazy right now. But it could be SO much worse, my problem is temporary, and will go away if I sleep it off.

I have been asked many times by people how I am so optimistic when my sister, Frances, has a muscle disorder, Dystonia, that cut out any conversation with her since she was about 13 (she is now 28. Or that she had to have brain surgery for 12 hours. How? Well she is mentally just as smartassed, witty, and normal as you and me. But she just can't express it verbally.

And that is what I cherish, is that I still have my sister, and that even though we can't chat, scream, or even whisper to each other. We are still around each other. So I look at it that way.

My brain wouldn't let me google Cystic Fibrosis until after I knew it was needed to be done. Sure I might Google it, just for curiosity, but I needed to not go there. Not this week. I couldn't get myself sick over it, until I needed to. Call it denial. I call it my natural instinct to survive. You do it your way. I will do it my way.

I also enjoyed Michael J. Fox visiting Wrigley Field. And pointing out that we Cubs fans, are a breed that are optimistic because we stick together as a group. And eventually it will happen... right?

Now I don't see anything wrong with a Pessimistic person. They dive into the problem, and then some. They hit there problem head on, and deal with it from there. It helps them cope.

Realist, well they are two different kinds. The Realist that do see the problem, and tries to find the best solution, and is hopeful of a good outcome. A realist optimist.

Then there are the Realist that sees the problem, and then some, and just to me is a bit more negative then need be.

I just don't do negativity. It won't help, it, to me it will actually hinder any progress. I want to think that now that we have hope with Obama, and the stem cell research bill he signed, we can move forward, much faster, find a cure for Parkinson's and maybe more help for Dystonia. Maybe even a cure too.

Thanks to Michael J. Fox for reminding us that you should "Do the next right thing" instead of "Doing the next thing right" yeah, I had to rethink that one a few times. But it's great once you get it.

Glass is half full, and tomorrow is a new day. Here's to it.

Fingers in my ears, going "lalalalalala"

Weaky had his one year check up Monday.

He is 28 1/2 inches, great motor skills, his head is looking great with the help of the DOC band.

We had him creep across the room, and we notice that he drags his left leg, and only pushes with the right. He does not crawl, but he does cruise around his bed, and will walk with his Lion walker/rider.

He just started pointing to his mouth for "eat" and he is getting so much more interactive. He really loves his toys, and don't even touch his Gerber Cheetos!!

BUT he is just a wee guy at 16 lbs 12 oz.

Sigh...

Sure I am little, and Bagel was little too. He is right on his height. But it's that little weight that bugs Dr. B. and it bugs me too. I know, I know, I am only 5 feet tall but he is tiny. He can still wear 3-6 month clothes. The 9 month pants are just fitting him. (But Bagel wears 6 month shorts, her waist is SO tiny!)

Weaky got his shots, 3 of them, as most kids he was very angry, and sore. But like a trooper he took his Tylenol and a nap.

So yesterday right before I left for my fun night out, Dr. B called us at home. (I would have told the girls but I didn't want it to be a buzz kill on our Brit night. I figure you would all see it today) He is concerned about Weaky's weight. And wants us to do a count of ALL things he consumes. But in weight. Like a 9 oz banana, or 3.5 oz of baby food.

I have to do this for 3 days so Dr. B can get a calorie count.

Then Dr. B ordered for him to go up to Christ Hospital's children's Hospital "Children's Hope" to have his electrolytes checked, urine, and his blood count (again, just did this in January)

And for a Sweat Chloride test.

For Cystic Fibrosis.

He said the Cystic Fibrosis is because Weaky shows some signs of "failure to thrive" so we go Wednesday the 6th at 10 am. I don't know that much about CF, I do know a girl from Real World died from this (Frankie) and that is all I want to know for now.

Spaghetti is sick over this. And I am not happy, but I don't want to know more then I need to right now. I will let the Doctors test him, and go from there. My mind won't wrap around the fact that he could be sick, until he really is.

So please wish us well. I believe in my heart my Weaky is fine. Just a wee little guy, with a big sweet heart. I will keep you updated with more when I get it.

EAT CAKE! or wear it. Which ever...

Yesterday was Weaky's 1st Birthday. And so we threw him a party. Bout 40 or so family and friends came by.

There was nummy fried chicken, sloppy joes, potato and pasta salad, some fun jello desert for dinner. There was a big fun cake, and a smaller cake that seemed to be WAY more fun for the 1 little person that wore it.

There was a tent with tables and chairs, bean bag games, and the pool table was used, everyone was happy, and a good time was had by all.

Weaky enjoyed friends, dinner, cake, then he napped. So his loving sister stepped in and opened his presents for him. And after each gift she would loudly say "Happy Dirt Day to Weaky!"

Weaky woke just in time to play with his toys and enjoy time with his family again.

Then the wind blew cold... and started to pick up, the black clouds rolled in, and we all grabbed toys, chairs, tables and brought everything inside.

Just in time for the rain! But that was ok, we had a great day outside, and when we all came in and realize that it was almost 8:00pm!

Everyone chatted in the house for a bit longer, then headed out to there cars. Of coarse The Queen and Carrots, and Gramma and Grampa Mc were some of the last to leave.

But as always Mommies trusty bestest friend, who was the first one there, Aerial was the last to go at 9:30 pm.

It was a long, fun windy, sunny, rainy, cloudy, cold, hot, warm day. All that matters is this...

My little baby boy, didn't just eat his cake. He wore it and covered as much of him in it as he possibly could.

Happy 1st Birthday my little man. Love You.

365 days ago...

365 days ago this was me.
And I was in love with the idea of my perfect little baby boy coming into this world. (I was happily drugged for this picture)


After learning the hard way with Bagel, I realized I need not feel some of the pain to feel complete as giving birth to my child. As quickly as I was in pain this time, I was givin my epi. We started at 6:00 am, with tons of paper work, and some pitocin to start the day. We were on our way.


Around 3:30 pm I was dilated to 10 so they broke my water, and we started pushing at 3:35pm, and with some good iTunes going, (think Salt n Pepa's "Push it") it was only 36 minutes and at 4:06 pm, on April 25th you were born.


And here you are. Just 1 day old. Your light brown mohawk, and those little eyes... All 7 pounds, 10 oz, and 20 1/2 inches of you...



That little mohawk quickly became a lot of fuzzy hair! You were so tiny, and just the sweetest and most patient little boy I have met.
And even with the need to wear this DOC band 23/7 you are still a trooper. They said it would be days before you would adjust and it just took you hours. And you are SO good about it.

As you grow and learn new things, as you explore your world, and become the little person I hope for, I can't help but wonder...

What kind of a boy will you be? The sweet mamma's boy I want? A shy guy? A sporty guy like your dad? Maybe artsy like your mom?

What ever you are supposed to be. Whatever you will do in your life. Whatever your goals, and dreams will be. Just remember one thing...

I will ALWAYS be your number one fan.

I will ALWAYS be on your side.

I will ALWAYS be your best friend.

I will ALWAYS be your best girl.

I will love you more then there is sand in the sea or stars in the sky.

Alexander Edward. I love you more then you will ever understand.

There may be a day, when you have children of your own, and you love them so much that they just take over your whole heart, and your whole sense of being.

And you may think back to your parents, and think that you understand the love that they had for you. An unconditional love that nothing can break. No one can come between.

I try to understand how much Gigi and Papa love me. But I realize now that no matter how much I try, they will love me more then I could understand. I just assume its the same love I have for you.

I can't explain my love for you. I can't explain my want for you to love me more then any little man has loved his mother.

Happy first birthday. I wish you happiness, and love.

More then my own life,

Mommy

xo...

365 days ago

This was me. April 21st 2008.

I was 38 weeks pregnant with Weaky Man. I was at my regular monthly meeting for Stampin' Up! with my good friends. This picture was taken by Aerial.

I was SO tired of timing braxton hicks, and I was SO over being pregnant.

A year later, I don't miss being pregnant. I do remember it, and I did cherish the memories, and the amazing fact that I was growing a human!

That was 3 days before I went to see Dr. Lim, and to decide that I would be induced at 7 am on April 25th.

And 4 days before I was induced, and Weaky Man Mc was born, on that April 25th.

We have just a few days before Weaky's big 1st birthday. I can't believe he has been here a year already! Happy early birthday my baby boy!

(dear readers, you will probably find quite a few "Weaky" post's this week, since Saturday is his big day! And I must add, that I am so original with my clothes. I did not plan it, but I am wearing those same brown sweats, and the same black tshirt, and barefoot!!)

Meenie Weenie

Sorry...

So Sorry...

Really, really sorry...

Yep, sorry to you too...

And again. I am sorry.

I am sorry for being a Meenie Weenie.

I am mean, and bitter. More then I should be. I yell at Bagel for just stupid things. Like her demanding I change her sippy from water to milk and back again. I don't yell yell. But I get angry, and tell her not now. I should read with you more. I do try at least once a day. And I do teach you colors, and counting, and shapes... I try damn it... your just so much energy and if you don't have a nap then from 7 am till 7 pm is 12 hours of high strung, whiny, and boss toddler! I do need to just stop and breathe... when I get mad at you I will just punish you with kisses and hugs. I know you hate Time Out but you can NOT keep trying to make Weaky wear a box for a hat. And Dong doesn't like it when you punch her in the head. Sigh... Bagel...

I don't yell at Weaky. I just don't play with him as much as I should. And he is ALWAYS last, in the morning he is the first one up, but most of the time I get Spaghetti off to work, feed the dogs, and cats, get Bagel up and fed, then I am finally able to feed Weaky. (ok, I am last then.) And I need to NOT depend on your sister to be your entertainment, she is almost 3, but she is in NO way able to be left with you for more then a minute. (she's getting to the point where she doesn't realize what she is doing to Weaky could hurt him! I need to make more time for you and me little man.

Thing 1 and Thing 2, well they get my attention when I feed them... um and when I shoo them from my desk chair... oh and when I clean out there litter box... sorry bout the neglect girls...

Ding and Dong... they are not so bad. The barking is less and less, and the destroying of toys, remotes, phones, books... well that could be because we took ANYTHING possible for you to destroy and made it out of your reach could be why the destruction rate is slowing. But I am sorry for not playing ball as much as I used to... when the weather gets nice (we did today!) I try to at least spend an 1/2 hour to an hour with you a day.

Spaghetti.

I'm sorry. I didn't realize that I have been so bitter, snappy, and just plain mean to you and everyone else in our house. I know I say my job is hard. And that you do work 3 jobs, and this is my job. But like I told you, it's hard for me when you don't complain, you don't take anything out on anyone else. I know I am lucky to have you, but it's hard to keep up when your always so good to me.

I know you work 3 jobs. But the house work, the dogs, the cats, the kids, the banking, the yard, the everything in between! It's just insane, and I think I hit the nail on the head.

This job. The SAHM job is the hardest. Why? Because there is no boss. You are your own boss.

So I have to be disciplined enough to make myself a list of things to do. And do them, all while tending to the kids, pets, phone calls, and everything I do around here. I must say I SUCK at being my own boss. I slack, I am lazy, I would rather blog, poke around on Facebook, or just go to the art room, before I fold all that laundry that is clean, or wash the 5 that are waiting for me to wash!

Sure take away the computer. I will just find a book to read, or zone out with bad afternoon t.v. programing.

I am trying to organize the house. Declutter. And get rid of SO much for the garage sale coming up. I want what you want Spaghetti.

I want to walk into a house where it's picked up (I know, spotless is not happening) the dishes are done, and the kids are happy. Where it's livable around here.

The clutter, the bills the ALL day kids, it stresses me out, to the point where as soon as someone finally comes home, the get the brunt of my stress.

And sadly for the last 4 months that is you. Now I want to change, and be a happier wife, a nicer mom, and you will be doing your Wrigley season, where your gone more of the week then home.

I hope when you are home I am a decent person to be around. Not the angry spaz that yells or bitches about everything. The last person on the planet I should be angry at is you. You take my crap and I am happy that you told me today how you feel.

I will try to be a better person. Not just for you, the kids and the fuzzies. But for me too.

I love you Spaghetti Mc, Bagel, Weaky, Thing 1 and 2, and my Ding and Dong. I love you lots.

Muah.

Your Feisty Mommy and Wife.