No kids for 18 hours.

Date night.

Dinner, department store browsing, book buying with a side of cocoa, Netflix and a bottle of wine.

Perfect.

Sometimes the only time he still looks like my little baby is when he is sleeping. Even if it’s lunchtime.

How is it that you can pluck the same Granny chin hair FROM IT’S ROOTS over and over again and it still comes back?

Huh?

Riddle me that, Batman.

Duncan, did you color on Wren’s head?

No, Mama. I just brushed her hair with a crayon.

—It’s all a matter of perspective.—

I need this NOW!

“Wren, you’re a mess!”

“Woof, woof!”

Tonight, Josh was having some stomach woes so I dug through the immense amount of knowledge stored up in the ol’ noggin and came up with “ginger = digestive health”.

So I made him some ginger tea (one should always have fresh ginger on hand) and felt all awesome and homeopathic.

I am pretty much the best wife/encyclopedia-of-trivial-knowledge ever.

Sometimes I look at them and wonder how I could have been a part of making something so wonderful.

Lilli (our goddaughter): Meghan, your house is a mess.

Me: Yep.  It sure is.

Lilli: Meghan, your bottom sure is big.

Me: You are just full of truths today, arent you?

Lilli: Yeah.

Nothing like a 3 year old to comment on all your major insecurities in one conversation.

I hate parsley.  That is  all.