So my account has been so inactive for so dang long that my email was dead and I had to reset it. Then I forgot my password. Lordy.
I am back and ready to try to blog everyday to see what I can look back on and remember about these boys.
But here is Teeny Tiny who is honestly not so tiny. He is a whooping 15 lbs at almost 14 weeks this coming Tuesday.
And this is how mad Beebo gets about 102 times a day when he is told no. This usually also includes me getting pelted with whatever toy he can get his hands on fast enough or a round of 'Slap, Slap Baby and Mommy Until Mommy Screams'
As you can see one or the other is always crying. This makes it hard for me to watch my shows. Right now the only drama I have in my life pertains to the Wii and if Beebo turned it off during a game, the 'will I start my period this month?' game and if Bret Micheals is going to chose a woman who is purely plastic surgery gone wrong or a woman who obviously has no morals or boundaries and has no qualms with what America thinks or he could go for the gusto and get a combo of both.
Quite frankly I am worn out. I feel like as soon as I pick it up they will throw it on the floor again anyway so why bother? But then I get into a staring contest with whatever toy, shredded paper, toddler snack or dirty diaper is laying there and I always seem to blink. I was able to pretend it wasn't going on this past 2 weeks off and on because I was sick and hid in my room for fear that I would make one of these boys sick. But when I emerged from my drug induced haze this morning I about lost it.
The trash was overflowing so they started piling it on the kitchen counters. Instead of opening a new pack of paperplates they just dirtied the real plates and piled them on top of the dirty paper plates. Apparently the fact that we are now recycling in our city has nothing to do with anything. They just piled it all up together in front of the back door next to the overflowing trash can. Instead of washing a bottle or baby cup we just got clean ones out until they were all dirty and then opened the pack of new ones I just bought last week. And dirtied those.
This was just the kitchen. I could write a novel about the disaster I awoke to this morning.
Needless to say I hope I never get sick again. If I do, I better go to the hospital and TI better spend some cash on Merry Maids. And they better get the pee droplets from the mystery man who comes and pees on the floor, seat, the bath mats and rim of the toilet.