Our first ladies

Check out the girls rocking their Michelle Obama look (remember the White House | Black Market dress from her appearance on The View which instanteously became impossible to buy?).

What's even better about their copycat outfits is that the girls know they're super cute wearing them and the dresses' $9.99 Target price makes the First Lady's $148 price tag seem very haute couture.

Plus, knee socks make everything better!

*More regular (and lengthy) postings to resume as soon as I figure out a way to rid my laptop and our house of viruses.

They are two!

Twins really are twice as nice. Double the fun, double the love, double the cupcakes. Aren't they great?


I vividly remember leaving the hospital with those two babies. The weather was fairly warm for February, and it was late afternoon with the sun shining so bright. The hospital lobby was crowded and their little heads were covered with handmade hats. Now they are babies only in that like-yesterday memory.

Two years of growing, smiling

Love him!
Absolutely adore her!

One last day of one

Today was the last day Trace and Alysse will be one. In about twenty four hours their age will double. All the while, they are doing their best to take it all in.

All the talk of parties, presents and cake. They know there are festivities planned (with a me-meow cake) and that they are going to be two - the full chaos that's bound to ensue they can't possibly imagine.

Typically, on the kids' birthdays, I pull out their baby pictures and bawl my eyes out. I blubber around wondering where the time has gone, and how they could have gotten so big so quickly.

I then have fleeting moments of wishing them to be babies again (a temporary loss of memory and the sleepless nights and endless bottles).

I pulled out the baby pictures today in an attempt to get a jump start on the tears. They didn't come. Instead, I smiled at the fantastic kids that have grown from those teeny tiny babies. I was so overjoyed with what has become that I couldn't cry ... but there's always tomorrow.

Love them

Handmade valentines. A throw back to days when we actually made our own greetings. Remember those lacy paper doilies?

Alena's valentines for her preschool friends were lovely masterpieces. Hearts cut with four-year-old precision; layers joined with lots of glue and care; glitter added with gusto (remnants of which are still in our kitchen); name signed in preschool penmanship. Wonderful ... beautiful ... from the heart.

My weakness

There are many things I have weaknesses for ... a deadly dessert, yet another "to die for" girl's dress or a slick kitchen gadget (I'm in love with my vegetable peeler which actually makes peeling potatoes tolerable).

To compensate for these weaknesses, I've learned to bake only when absolutely necessary (read: last week's brownies are gone), to avoid www.janieandjack.com and peruse Jungle Jim's Gourmet Galeria on a restricted basis. The weakness I've not yet found an effective method of circumvention to is Trace.

His face, his laugh, his snuggles. His hold on me. It's a weakness that I'm not sure I want to skirt.

In reality my Trace weakness is actually a source of unfairness between him and the girls. Things they'd surely find themselves in trouble for, he manages to pull off without much consequence because of a naughty smile or stormy stomp off that most of the time I find endearing. His innate cuteness and what a sucker I am for it manages to "save" him frequently.

I'm totally aware of this bias, yet my weakness remains.

I'm also a sucker for his tears. The cause isn't really a factor, but he gets a few flowing and regardless of what I'm doing, he's scooped up and coddled, legs falling over mine as I sit and hold him. Yes, it can all wait - my hunka-hunka is crying.

He's made me a push-over. Pushing more of me over than any of the girls ever have. His proud chest-puffed-out peacock walk when he's done something good; his bright little boy eyes when he's happy; his tilted head when he's being silly. I melt.

While he maddens me quicker than any of the others with his frequent disobedience or inability to listen to reason, my heart can't help but soften after he falls out of the back of his Tonka dump truck for the seventh time of the day. And while my brain tells me he should have learned not to stand in it around the third attempt and fall; my mommy heart still makes me baby him because, maybe, he didn't realize how close to the table he had pulled the truck, thus resulting in the head injury (again!).

Jason shakes his head, the girls go on about their less dangerous play and I wipe his tears, kiss his head and squeeze him one more time. Rotten-rotten, stormy or whatever nickname I might be using for him that day ... he's still my baby boy ... my weakness.

A Sunday night

Here's a peek at our Sunday night ...

the cutest pajamas e-v-e-r.

a game of Operation (which requires Jason covering the light-up nose before Alivia will attempt her removal procedure).

and snuggling in for sweet dreams.

Our memento

During our trip to the aquarium last week, we had a photo taken upon entering the exhibits. We're supposed to be "acting" scared since we're being swallowed. It's a great memento of our day, and I love Alena and Alivia's expressions in it (Alysse is wondering why we've all lost our minds). Fun.

A million gallons of fun

What's better than a trip to the Newport Aquarium on a Tuesday when there's hardly anyone else there?

climbing :: on huge frogs that begged for straddling, sitting on and sliding down.

admiring :: how something so small can be so beautiful and amazing.

wondering :: how it all works. So many things to learn, question and take in.

playing :: with one of the interactive features throughout the aquarium's Frog Bog exhibit. Buttons make everything better when you're two ... three ... four.

gasping :: at the sight of a large alligator snapping turtle. Watching as he was fed produced even more oohs and ahhs.

discovering :: that you can roam freely and choose which things you'd most like to look at.