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Growing-up


The individual who coined the phrase, "Nothing is certain but death and taxes" must have been married to the person who did his/her laundry and dishes.  I'm just speculating.  If I ever get caught up on either of those, I'll post it here.  

I'd write more frequently, but we have been on the go this month and laundry and dishes have taken over my life, much to my chagrin.  My family, on the other hand, is probably relieved, as I tend to overshare.  I can't help myself.  It's like our boys, I taught them the correct spelling of b-u-t-t because they were doing it wrong.  Now they won't stop. Sawyer explained to me that it's just in his head and has to come out.  So, "b-u-t-t, b-u-t-t, b-u-t-t" it is.  They boys are old enough now, I should probably tell them it's not really a bad word, but we are going to ride this train as long as we can.  

Fischer turned five this month.  On his birthday, he informed me that he would no longer be my baby.  I told him that was unequivocally incorrect, and he would still be my baby when he was seventy-five.  He thought he might be too tall by then, and I thought I might be too dead, but I wasn't about to split hairs.  These kids get all grown-up and think they can just stop being my babies...brother!   

Even the girls are getting too big for their britches.  They are teaming up against me.  This week they broke into the snack cupboard, stole their loot, split it up between themselves, and crammed it in their mouths before I knew what was happening.  They had no shame in the matter when I busted them either.  The teenager years could be interesting.  Ross and I have a lot of front-loaded parenting to do to make sure we all survive.   

I like babies, but I do enjoy the stage we are in more than that first year.  I like seeing the personalities that are developing in the girls.  The really fun part is watching them become friends...unless they are standing in a pile of cereal.

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