The Making of M.O.M.

Well, I packed my hospital bag this weekend in the hopes that Baby Beaver #6 was waiting on me to be "ready." Turns out, Baby could care less that I'm ready.

So, I thought I'd go a step further and go ahead and add twitter to my blog so that when I (finally) do go into labor I can tweet and you all can see updates right here on my blog, if you care. If you do care, you can find those updates right over there on my right sidebar.

Or you can click here and see all my updates on twitter. Most likely after the baby comes I will remove twitter from my blog again. When it's up, I feel pressure to update it. And, I like to set goals that I can actually reach. And, quite frankly, my life just isn't that interesting to need to update twitter several times a day. Well, okay, some days are that interesting but I forget (repeatedly) to refill Lucas' juice cup so chances are I won't remember to tweet about something interesting.

Although today I may need to communicate with EVERYONE via twitter because apparently I've caught a cold that has caused me to lose the majority of my voice. That should go well today with 5 kids who don't really listen when I have my whole voice in tact.

I wonder if using Twitter to help Elizabeth learn to read would be a good idea? Probably not.

Anyway, y'all have a good Monday.

I think somewhere, woven into the DNA of my children, there are two unspoken truths.

My girls believe that before any real fun can be had with a babydoll, they must be naked (or as naked as you are able to make them).

Then once the clothing is as removed as your little fingers will allow, you must "mommy" them to the point of breaking them.

In turn,

my boys have the ability to know exactly where every car in our house is located.

In addition, they know exactly how to make car noises for as long as their little lungs can hold breath. Then they repeat this noise approximately 3,729 times.

(Just so you know, when I took these pictures Aaron and Olivia were playing in the kitchen at the same time. Olivia with her baby and Aaron with his car. It was, perhaps, the most precious thing I'd seen all week.)