I wish they would have taught one-handed typing in middle school. It would come in handy sometimes. Like if you lose an arm. Or try to catch up on your blog while holding a baby that will more than likely wake up if you put him in his bed after 10:30.
You should not read "how to help your children sleep" books unless you want to feel like a bad parent. The people who write them must not live real lives or have real children, right?
Emma has started calling everyone "honey" lately (picked it up from a cute little preschool friend). Today she said to Zach (aka Joe Mauer in spring training), "Honey, you can't just go around asking people if they want your autograph, that's just not how it works." (Zach HATES being called honey and growls at Emma, which she hates. Can you feel the love?)
As we left church on Sunday with Carter in nothing but a (borrowed) 0-3 month size onesie and a pair of socks (and a blanket, since it was 12*) a friend remarked, "wow, was he a super-pooper today?" Yes, two times over, thanks for asking. We are grateful for the sink in the mother's room.
I don't know why I think March is spring. The wind chill tonight in our lovely part of the woods is below zero. They should give February a couple of extra weeks and not make it March until the snow melts.
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