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Truthfully

 "Good morning, Carter!  I've been missing you this morning!"  I told my late riser as I scooped her up for a good morning hug.  I turned to her sister, who had been up with the sun, "Were you missing her too, Emerson?"

"Not much."  Well, you can't fault her honesty.  

Honesty is like a three-year-old's super power.  

"Mama, I have a big belly?" Carter asked me tonight.  

"You do have a big belly."

"You have a big belly too."

Thanks, kid.  The difference is, a) I didn't ask, and b) toddler big bellies are cute.

"You need to eat your dinner," I countered.  

She looked at her plate then looked at me.  "It's not my favorite."  

I mean, at least she's polite. 

The boys are also learning the good and the ugly of truth telling toddlers.  They can't get away with anything.  It's like I have my own personal set of spies.  I'm milking this season for all it's worth.  

Hmmmmm, milking.  That reminds me of a cow I still don't have... 

Some people dream of European vacations.  I dream of Jersey.  A Jersey.  With long lashes.  And a heavy amount of cream. 

I digress.  The girls, the girls are really in the best stage now.  It took three years, but I think we are finally out of crazy twin-town.  They are pretty well potty-trained, sleeping at night for the most part, and fairly capable of communicating.  All game changers.  And in my biased opinion, they're pretty dang cute.  

They brought me flowers today.  Mostly wild, a few bulbs.  "I make you so happy?"  Emerson asked.

"Yes, you did."  And I was telling the truth too.   


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