Bugging Out

I've been barfed on about eleven times too many in the last three days so I'm still sorting through laundry and too few pictures from our trip east to post much. Nonetheless, here's what I am sure of... as crazy as it sounds, a sick toddler is actually not so bad to have on a flight provided a) he's mostly done upchucking by the time you board and b) he sleeps for much of the trip. John learned the hard way that being a parent and being sick is way harder than having sick kid. Molly has asked every question known to man about being sick and who kept eating these stomach bugs...

Anyway, we are on the mend (well, yours truly didn't need to mend because I am currently super immuno-mom) and life is returning to it's norma level of nuttiness. In the meantime, speaking of crazy...

Dear Mom, you may want to call Crazy Town because a) I am a bruiser, b) I don't like wearing clothes, and c) I need to pick out my own footwear and it looks fabulous.

When I told Molly that we had to tame the beast (otherwise called her hair) for soccer, she took matters into her own hands... I guess this counts.