Three Months

Three months old and I'm not giving them back. Why would I? They sleep through the night and are the easiest babies I've ever had. Though I think it is a testament of the craziness I live in right now that there is a fair amount of spit-up and snot in these pictures.

Evelyn left, Amelia right. Just woke up and happy as two chubby little clams.

Not sure what they weigh exactly, but I'd guess 11 1/2 pounds for Ev and 12 for Millie.
I know this is a flood of baby shots . . . but I can't pick just one.
Cause they're cute.
And I think they know it.

Want to see what is not cute? My house. Ca-Razy!

Bathroom Rules According to My Three-Year-Old

#1- You must be completely nude before using the toilet. Even if it's only number one.

#2- When preparing to go, you must go into the bathroom and shut the door. Then you methodically remove each piece of clothing, opening the door a crack to throw each article out individually. It is essential to slam the door shut after each piece is tossed.

#3- You must yell at the top of your lungs the entire time you are on the toilet. That way everyone knows that if you stop yelling, you've fallen in and need assistance.

#4- Mom wipes.

#5- You must work hard to find the very BEST opportunities to use the bathroom. Ideal times include while mom is standing in a checkout line at Target, right before she has to be somewhere important on time, and while she is in the shower.

#6- When Mom asks, you must insist that you absolutely don't need to use the bathroom. Wait 3 and 1/2 minutes, then tell her it's an emergency . . . you have to go RIGHT NOW.

#7- If you are in a public place (especially a quiet public place) it is necessary that you announce your need to use the toilet in the loudest voice possible. It is preferable that you also announce exactly which body function you need to perform.

Three

The train tunnel was a birthday hit, as were all train related books and articles of clothing.
So was the Leapfrog Word Builder. I have never seen another three-year-old so fascinated by the alphabet. I mean, look at his face here. You'd think there was a Porsche inside that box.
I have a love/hate relationship with my children's birthday cakes. I love to decorate them . . . I hate my complete lack of self-control around homemade buttercream icing.

I really love how excited they get about a cake that they personally requested. I did this cake for Seth when he turned three also. Thomas the Tank Engine is a timeless classic around here.
Happy birthday to our baby . . . who is no longer a baby (sob)!

Little (Big) Boy and Girl

He's turning three this week. My baby. My littlest little one. This is the first time I've ever had a baby turn three without having another baby coming up the ranks to fill the baby spot.

I'd consider having another one, until I see this attitude (in photo). Plus, we are on the cusp of something wonderful. For the first time in eight and a half years we are a diaper-free household (nearly . . . if you don't count bedtime pull-ups). Congratulate me!
Now this one. If I could only carbon copy her, I could be mother to an even dozen. Who cares that she's too scared to kick the soccer ball if it is rolling? If there is a ball on the field at a complete standstill, she owns it. I also had to make a few soccer rules.

Rule #1: No kissing or hugging the little blonde neighbor boy during the soccer game.

Rule #2: Save the skipping and singing for the sidelines.

I'm kind of a mean soccer mom.
She took this picture of me watching the game. She may have more potential as a photographer than an athlete. I'm totally okay with that.