Time Keeps On Slipping, Slipping, Into the Future

Long time no post, sorry! Grammy and Grampy left (sadness) and I was getting up to speed managing two peanuts, which went well for the most part but didn't leave me a whole lot of time last week. Luckily, reinforcements (Nana) have arrived and I am, once again, being spoiled with some free time. Whew, what a nice thing and boy do I love grandparents!

Okay, so we've started trying to adventure out again but we're apparently a little rusty and had to abort our trip the other weekend and the weather has been a little poopy. Plus, John had to depart to the States for meetings this week and spent most of Saturday trying to get our other car registered (Grandpa will be proud of us -- after at least five trips, it's finally done. But no, the license plate still isn't exactly affixed to the Jeep yet... baby steps). Anyhoo, so we've been doing other stuff, like...

working hard. I mean, really hard.


continuing to wear our leg-warmers... I mean big socks (not to be confused with tights, which Molly also refers to as biiiiiiiiiig socks)

and wondering why mom and dad aren't saving little peanuts from big sister antics (like stealing his binky. Poor thing).

Molly has also gotten really, really into showers and baths. Other people's showers and baths, that is. Who knew that Little Miss Dirt Devil would want to be chairwoman of clean around here.

Someone has to make sure that Grammy's shower cap (in Molly verbiage: cap shower) was accounted for

and yes, that is Molly in the bath. Jack's bath. Thanks for the help. It went a little something like this. Jack needed a bath and it seemed like a good way for the master munchkin to help out. And she did... sort of. We did the bath with only a few tears and I went to dress Jack, thinking someone was toddling behind me to continue to commentate on what was happening. Suddenly, I heard the most dangerous sound a parent can hear... silence. Never, ever, ever a good thing, I walked back into the bathroom and guess who was splish splashing happily (and quietly) and fully clothed. Was there anything to do but get the camera and let her have her paparazzi moment?


I think John was a little distressed (not really) because it meant that she couldn't wear her Daddy outfit that day. Molly's lifesaver leggings are John's go-to outfit when he dresses her. We generally switch off on kid duties one morning each Saturday and Sunday so the other person gets to sleep in (theoretically). This outfit is sort of like a deja vu on the weekends and has since become her Daddy outfit. I'm happy to let it be so.