A Breather...

Just want to take a moment before I embark on potty training Mary Catherine next week to write that things here are going very well.  Considering potty training is my LEAST favorite thing to do as a parent I might not be in such a thankful mood this time next week.  Let's hope I overcome my attitude.  I remember a certain curly haired friend of mine that said she loved potty training her children and they bonded during that time.  I love my friend, but that is just crazy talk. 

We traveled out of town this past week and it went the smoothest it ever has with five children.  Cracker Barrel was a joy.  I didn't have to spend my time thinking of a dozen ways to keep two toddlers from scaling out of their boosters, stop any screaming, or deal with any spillage issues. 

The twins are (and have been) understanding consequences more and more each day.  For instance, if we are traveling in the car and one of them starts whining, they understand, "If you don't stop, I am going to take your magna doodle." 

Of course, we aren't afraid to invoke some Biblical discipline too, if you catch my drift, but one of my sweet little twinkies just likes to take a lickin' and keep on tickin' so it doesn't always have the effect that I would like it to in a pinch. 

I'm thankful that the twins are understanding more and more, but I do miss those baby days a little bit too, at least the days I can remember.  Most of the first year is a haze filled with crying and exhaustion, mostly my crying, but don't judge.  If you don't have twins, you cannot understand.

A Little After Nap Smack

Picture this, if you can...

Mary Catherine wakes from her nap and cracks open my bedroom door.  Henry hears the door and races up to her with puppy dog enthusiasm. 

Squealing, "Mary Cafrin! Mary Cafrin! Mary Cafrin's awake!" as he approaches her in the doorway. 

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! 

Mary Catherine smacks Henry three times in the face while screaming at him. 

Poor boy. 

I bet he's not excited to see her anymore. 

I Miss Bubba

Tonight Mary Catherine went to the grocery store with me because she had slept for four hours during her nap time and I knew that she was not going to bed any time soon. 

I like to try to take the children out one on one when I can, even if it's just to the store.  It's a small sacrifice because when they are alone with me they talk and talk and talk because there isn't anyone to interrupt.  Even though I like my quiet alone shopping time, it's worth to be with them and hear their funny stuff.


As we shopped the aisles of Walmart it was so precious to me how often she discussed Henry. 

The sweetest moment was when she got a cookie and said, "Bubba did not get one. I miss Bubba." 

We Wuv Coco

Our poor cat. 

Coconut is our long haired white outdoor, sometimes indoor, cat, who is the object of the twins' obsession. 

They claim to love her. 

"We wuv her."
"She is nice to me."
"Coco need somfin to eat."
"Coco not bite me."
"Coco is soft."
"I pet her."

They chase her all over the house and throw balls at her, all while wondering why she won't let them pet her for longer than 5 seconds.

If you can picture the old Looney Tunes cartoon, "I will name him George, and I will hug him and pet him and squeeze him.." it's a little bit like that...

Surprisingly, she is very, very good with them.  When she gets really irritated she will give them a warning swat, but has never used her claws, yet.

Poor Coconut.