Harpy Harllerween

I don't really think of Halloween as a holiday...to me, it's more of a candyday. Growing up, we'd get dressed up and Mom and Dad would take us trick or treating to neighborhoods they knew were super safe or just to peoples' houses they knew would give us normal candy. Most of the time, we'd just go to church festivals and get all our candy there. The best candy comes from church festivals. I learned that pretty quickly. Old people will give you the orange and black wrapped candy...it's good for trading, but it's not as delectable as a mini Snickers bar.

The girliest costume I ever wore was a princess costume. Sara was a dragon that year. Kind of weird and funny now that I think about it. From then on, we were either cowboys, Indians, ninjas...that sort of thing. Oh, one year we were Peanuts characters.

I jump and scream when the babies kick me, so yeah, haunted houses or horror movies aren't great for me. I'm pretty much a lame-o when it comes to Halloween. But I love getting together with friends...just as we're doing tomorrow night over at Zack and Malinda's! Go check out her blog to see some of the fabulously amazing eats we'll be having. She always decorates so cute!

David and I are making a thirteen layer chocolate cake...complete with spider web on top. I'll try to remember to take pictures. Well, it WAS 13 layers...I think we're down to 11 now. But that's okay...I ate the other two layers' pieces, so rest assured they didn't go to waste. We're also making cheese biscuits (because that's something I can make) and chocolate covered caramel apples.

I got candy for the house...we usually have a ton of kids that come and see us from the neighborhood. The little ones come early in the evening and they are oh, so sweet.

"Trick or treat, please."

"Well, hello! And what are you? Are you a ninja turtle? Do you fight the bad guys?"

"Uhmmm...(turn around to mom and dad to make sure it's okay to answer)... Yes, ma'am."

"Well, that's great! Here you go!"

(Reach into the candy bowl and pull out one piece of candy)

"Oh...gosh, no, you gotta get more than that. Superheroes have to eat more candy."

(Smiiiiiile creeps onto the chubby cheeks...turns back around to mom and dad...scoots closer...grabs three more pieces and quickly shoves them into the bag)

"Thank you! Happy Halloweeee-----" (trails off as they scurry back to parental units)

They're very polite.

The older kids come later in the evening. Their costumes usually consist of their basketball jersey, a black sheet, or fake blood smeared on their neck...holding Wal-Mart bags. I'll answer the door and say, "Seriously? You expect me to give you candy when you look like that? No...negative. You have two choices...you can either do a Charlie Brown dance or you can reenact a scene from a movie." And guess what...they'll do it! Since it's the end of the night, I usually give them a ton of candy each just to get rid of the stuff, because I don't want it, and because they just did a verbatim reenactment of the boat scene in Princess Bride and it was perfection. "Anybody wanna peanut?"

Anyways. I hope you all have a fabulous and safe Harllerween. Remember, calories don't count tomorrow, so eat as much as you want. If you come to my house, I have pixie sticks. And if you're not dressed up, have a dance or monologue prepared, because you will have to perform. Dance, monkey, dance!

Things I've Learned Since May

Shaving your legs is not nearly as important as I thought it'd be.

If something falls on the floor...you have to really weigh your decision as to how important that object is and if it's worth spending 19 minutes bending down to your knees, reaching over to pick it up, hoisting your wrecking ball gut back up - joints crying out in protest - and carrying on. Usually whatever that object is, it wasn't worth holding onto anyway, so just leave it on the floor. If it's food, that's what the cat and dog are for.

Checking the mail is a great form of exercise.

Walking from one side of the house to the other whilst talking on the phone to your mom will make you really winded, so make sure she knows you're okay and not running a marathon.

Converse All-Stars have no stretch in them at all...and will have to be retired until my feet return to their less than Hobbit size dimensions.

Feeling the baby(s) move is not nearly as creepy as I thought it'd be. In fact, it's quite fascinating and I find myself watching my tummy for long periods of time at night (when they move the most). David thinks I'm either asleep or in deep thought. I just tell him I'm inventing things. I do have a lot of good ideas.

Those "horrific" birthing videos they tell you crazy stories about are not at all as scary and terrifying as they say. Actually, they're kind of mundane. I feel asleep a few times...."big whoop, I've seen that on Animal Planet." (That's an exaggeration...they are KIND of crazy, but not THAT bad...nothing I'm going to Netflix, but nothing that will give me nightmares.)

Feeling your baby get the hiccups makes you react with this "Awwwwwwwww...is she okay? Poor thing. Bless her heart" even though the Dr. and everything you've ever read or heard about lets you know it's okay and doesn't hurt them and actually helps their diaphragm development. But still...it's pitiful.

Along those same lines...being babied makes you say "Awwwwwwwwwww" and "So cute!" and "Precious" a lot....even if previously you never ever used those words.

Speaking of words...all of a sudden, I can't stand it when David says I'm "nesting." I don't think of it in a cute, bird type of way. When I hear "nesting", I picture a rat building a nest filled with little naked rat babies. I choose to refer to it as "cleaning and organizing."

If you can't remember your Dad's name or if you don't know what year it is or if you have on a tank top and go from underneath to put your deodorant on (what is it with me and my deodorant problems), don't fret...just blame it on the fact that all of your brain power has gone towards cooking two human turkeys...well-done and honey glazed. Wait, that's a ham...mmmm mmmmmmm ham.

There are a LOT of views of parenting out there...and although everyone means well, you have to choose what's best for you. So, if some people keep their kids in crates at night, that's their decision. Maybe give an anonymous call to Social Services...but just because they do it, it doesn't mean you have to. My kids will get a high-class cardboard box, because they deserve the best.

Priorities change drastically...no longer are you worried about what you're going to be doing that weekend or which movie you're going to see or which restaurant you want to eat at...you're more concerned with "how fast can I eat that entire footlong sub? I really should time myself. This is gonna be awesome...one for the record books."

Publix and military commercials, and Richard Dreyfuss and William H. Macy Hallmark movies will make you cry unabashedly. Go ahead and let it out.

If you can't breathe when you have a t-shirt on...your shirt is too tight...just accept it and go change.

Don't look at pictures of yourself before you got babied. Just don't do it.

Women of any age will look at your belly, then look at your face, and tilt their head to the side with a knowing look in their eyes and smile at you. Younger men will look at your belly, eyes wide, and will attempt to avoid walking near you or look at you at all costs. Older men will look at your belly and just staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaare uninhibited. Children are the most fun, though. Boys and girls alike, will look at your belly, look at your face, look at the belly, look at the face, belly, face...then walk up and touch you and ask the most amazing questions..."Is there a baby in there? Did you have a baby? How old is your baby? How will the baby come out? Are you the mommy? I was a baby once. Are you pwegmant?"

Everything you look at or shop for or see online is measured by how much you think your children will like it or how will it enrich their lives.

You pray every single second of every single day for their well-being and that they'll grow strong and healthy...and you pray for their future husbands and that you'll be the most amazing parent to them and be a good example for them and not screw anything up. Which, you totally will...but that's why God is there with us the whole way...to reassure us and remind us that we're not perfect. You worry for them alllll the time. Even when they're not even born yet, you get angry towards the people that would ever wish them harm and you picture them driving...oh my gosh...I'm never going to let them drive. You look forward to their weddings (IF we let them get married) because you get to help pick out dishes and towels and dresses all over again! YAY!!! You start planning what they'll be dressed as for future Halloweens. You think of ways to tell them apart when they're babies and wonder if any of those ways are considered child abuse...writing on them with Sharpies, for example.

I've learned a lot since May...my brain is full.

Not Much To Say...

...except...don't you hate it when you put on a sweater hoodie and you're putting on your deodorant and you're belly is too big to go from underneath, so you go down the neck to reach your armpit. And you end up getting deodorant all over your neck because your hoodie is so tight...but, who cares. Necks get sweaty, too, and need a little love.

Pumpkings, Pumpqueens, and a Pumpprince

Saturday night, after the longest birthing class ever, we headed over to Tris, Eric and Reid's for some chicken BBQing and pumpkin carving. Ohhhh my goodness...the meal was delicious. So stinking good. I had to borrow a pair of Tris' lounge pants just to give me some extra stretch in the waistal area. (Tris, don't let me forget to get those back to you.) And little Shane joined us, too. Pooooor Shane...all alone without Brandi Pants. Don't worry, buddy, she'll be back this weekend.

After supper, Eric fired up the chiminea (on his first try!) and we grabbed our pumpkins and hacked away...in a non-murderish fashion. Awesomely enough, my real camera's batteries were dead, so I had to use my cell phone...so, sorry for the quality.

Tris' ghost gourd.

Shortly after this picture is when I cut my finger. Tris had to amputate to prevent the spread of pumpkiness to my unborn children...so they wouldn't become Pumpkin People.

After the knifing incident, I kind of became a sissy and Tris finished my pumpkin. The boys had already gone inside to watch some game.

David and Eric's Chiminea of Fury.

A happy pumpkin family. Mine and David's are on the left in the back...still in progress. We got a little too complicated with our faces and have yet to finish them. Then we have Tris/Eric's goofy pumpkin, oh so cute. In the front (L to R) is Shaddy...a dog pumpkin...a hybrid of Seumas and Addy (one of their dogs), Ghost Gourd, and Brandi the Pirate Pumpkin...complete with eye patch.

We have two small pumpkins for Piper Lee and Harper, but they're too small to carve, so they're just going to hang with Ma and Pa Pumpkin by the front door.

Yay for fall and pumpkin carving and BBQed chicken!

Marvelous Multiples

This past Saturday was our multiples birthing class. We opted to do the one all-day class as opposed to the four two-hour night classes. I'm glad we went ahead and did it that way, but I gotta say...longest. day. ever. It was very informative and fun, but you can't ask anybody (pregnant or not) to sit there and pay attention to something for that long. Maybe it's just me, though. I'm not a very good sit still and listen person. And Mrs. Teacher was kind of stingy on the breaks. I'm like..."Seriously...I will go right here, right now."

There were only three couples in our class, including us. It was nice that they had a birthing class for multiples...and the class next to us was the singletons birthing class...where there were 182 couples. (More like 12, really). BUT, we all had to share the same bathrooms...which meant I had to wait in line. And I realize boys have to go, too...but don't you dare wait in a bathroom line with people who are babied. You go find somewhere else. Thankfully, most of the guys were gents and let the gals go first. But anyways.

One of the ladies in there with us was 34 weeks along. The average gestation period for twins is 35-36 weeks....so, she was pretty much in labor. Also, she rubbed her belly the entire time. I don't know if it's a further along in pregnancy thing, but it wasn't like a, "I'm touching my twins" so much as it was a "I'm petting my stomach" type of thing. And it was soooo distracting. I'm like...you have GOT to stop. Now, if the girls are moving around, I'll put my hand there because it's funny to me to feel them move...and I get itchy, so I have to scratch. But, I do not sit there and pet my gut. It's weird and makes people uncomfortable. She was also kind of an expert on everything. I'm thinking, you haven't actually had your babies yet, so how do you know it'll be like this or that. You can read all you want, but it's not the same as actually having a kid. Ah, well, she'll figure it out soon enough. I guess I was just annoyed with her because #1. I get annoyed at a lot of random stuff now and #2. she kept disrupting class with her opinions on EVERYTHING and it just meant I had to sit there longer. I was like, "That's great...uh huh...thanks for the info...now turn around and shhhhhhhh." Anyways.

We really did enjoy the class...I learned a LOT...David learned a LOT more than he probably wanted to. We watched some videos. Not nearly as horrific as I thought they'd be. I was thinking, "Shoot...they show that on A Baby Story."

The most important things I learned that day...

1. Be prepared to change, on average, 20 diapers a day.

2. Get them on a schedule just as soon as you can.

3. You have to keep the babies...even if they cry and wake you up. You can't give them back.

So, this was a thing that had a little wire hook on the end of it...and they would attach it to the top of the baby's head, under the skin, before they were born, to provide a more accurate heartbeat read-out. I'm thinking...well, SURE it's more accurate...it's attached to their brain. Poor baby.

David made me a swan. :)
Mmmm mmmmm...poppyseed and banana nut bread...snack time!
Thankfully, I won't have to experience Stage Two...seeing as how the stork is bringing mine.
Ah...the joys of two.
The teacher had little dummy babies with which to show us stuff...one was on the table, one was on the floor. She dropped both at least twice. That was in the What Not To Do With Your Twins section.
David's favorite.

Brandar

My precious friend, Brandi, was recently involved in an experimental procedure developed by NASA to determine if biomechanical upgrades could be infused into human anatomy. It can be. The procedure was successful and Brandi's right eye is now a technologically advanced ocular system that can zoom, take pictures, acquire targets, and so much more. It can even shoot lasers. She's still recovering from the surgery, so she's been having to wear this eye patch for a little while until her brain and body accept the new upgrades.

No wait...that's not right...that's from a movie...sorry. I lose track of which story belongs to who sometimes. We call her Brandar the Barbarian...she's know for her ferocious temper and for the fact that she'll punch anybody, even babies. Zack wrote a theme song for her that he sings when she becomes angry...she starts glowing and beams of radiation shoot out from her body and disintegrate any living thing within a 30 ft radius. So, the eye patch is very fitting. (In truth, she's probably the kindest and most generous person you'll ever meet, but Brandar the Barbarian is fun to say.) What really happened was that she had put her contacts in what she thought was regular storage saline, but it ended up being that super high-powered cleaning solution acid bath. So, when she put her contacts back in, it gave her a chemical burn on her eyeball. Poor Brandi. The doctor gave her some drops and the most fabulous eye patch ever. If only we had had time to bedazzle it.

Brandi is on her way right now to Ukraine to work with an orphanage and some amazing kids as a part of a ministry organization. This is Brandi's fourth year to go. Her pictures and stories are always incredible and I can't wait to hear about the trip! Please keep their team in your prayers as they travel today and throughout the week as they minister to those precious children and teens.

Brandaaaaaaaar...the Barbaaaaariaaaaannnnn

I Love You, Mom

I know this post is going to come back and bite me, but it's so worth it.

Earlier this week, Mom (bless her heart) had her teeth worked on...a crown or something...and they had to numb her up. One of the top three funniest things in the world to me is seeing people talk, smile, frown, anything after they've been numbed up in the face. So, I asked her to send me a picture after she got done at the dentist. First off, I'd like to say that I am so proud of her that she can actually take a picture with her cell phone and then send it to me. Mom, that's awesome. It seems like only yesterday you were learning to how forward an email. You've come so far.

This is what she sends me. I was just delighted and laughed for a good long while. The facial expression she was attempting to create was a kiss pucker...this is how it turned out.

I personally think my mom is the most beautiful women on the face of the planet. And I'm not just saying that because she's my mom. She looks like a Ralph Lauren model to me. This is Mom in her natural element...

Wait...that's not the picture I was looking for....ah, here it is...

Here's to you, Mom. Don't be too mad about the numb face pictures. Hey, remember that time last Christmas when we cleaned the entire front garden area and got rid of all the leaves for you and Dad and you didn't even have to ask us? Yeah...remember that...

Crab Plus Cake

Yesterday after work, I was taking a break on the couch, eating some fruit...Down Home with the Neely's was on. I don't normally watch it, but they seem pretty cute and seem to make real food...as opposed to Ina Garten who makes impossible butter-infused, saffron encrusted everything. Even though I love her and her food looks great, it's not for the real American to make. It's for people who live in the Hamptons to make and who have their entire day free to cook.

Anyways. The female Neely was making a lobster "cocktail"...basically a delicious looking lobster salad that she put in one of those tall glasses with the rim around which you put sugar (that was very proper grammatically, you have to admit.) But, she put lemon juice and some type of seasoning around it and put the salad in that...hence, cocktail. It look amazing and I was just dying for some seafood. I haven't had much at all in the past several months and I just wanted some. So, sweet Davey Pooh ran to the store and got us the ingredients to make our favorite Ellie Krieger crab cakes.

Now, who doesn't like crab cakes...just the name alone suggests tastiness.

Crab

Cake

And this recipe is very healthy. And pretty inexpensive. You can replace the crab meat with imitation crab meat (white fish) and to be honest, unless you compared them side by side, you'd never know the difference. The majority of the mayonnaise in the tartar sauce is replaced with strained yogurt. And it's fabulous. Look how pretty.

CHOMP!

Hiking with Friends, part 2.

Reid has a few words he'd like to say.

Zombie baby attacks!

Hiking with Friends, part 1.

So, this weekend was aweeeeessssooommmeee....slept late, went hiking Saturday afternoon, had a fabulous chili supper with Tris and Eric, cleaned the house, had a tapas dinner with gal pals, hung a mirror (you don't understand how much that's been bothering me)...and all the while it felt amazing outside. David got us some firewood yesterday and I cannot wait to put the fireplace to some good use. I'm kind of snuggled up cozy-like in my chair right now...with my microfleece pants, sweater, and fuzzy socks. Every year, I try to see how long we can make it without turning the heater on. I think I just might break my record this year. Every year I get more awesomer.

Saturday afternoon, we met up with Eric, Tris and Reid to go hiking. Despite the fact that it was quite chilly and shady and the trails were slightly muddy, we had a great time! I realized on the way that only two of the hikes have huge overlook points and those are the most strenuous hikes, so we enjoyed the nice glade and glen hikes. Here is our excursion in pic-a-tures...

Reid, what do you think about going hiking?

Hey guys, I'm not too worried about it. I say...put the camera down and let's go!

Oh, the horror! Why is Eric pushing his son into the white water-engulfed rapids of doom??

Did the young boy survive the dangerous crossing?
Yes...David pulls him to safety while Eric maintains the same pose throughout.
The trails were a tad muddy...thanks to the multitude of bikers and their stupid bikes.
Tris does her best to avoid the mud-filled chasms...all the while displaying her flexible talents from her circus days.
David took over pushing Mr. Reid.
Yay! Bellies at the North Trailhead.
Old, scary, rickety bridge...high-above a raging river...a most certain death awaits below.
My poor jeans...so muddy.
Such gentlemen.
Hiking through a glen....and what was I doing?
Eating crackers, of course.
It's snack time!
Braaaaaaaaains....feeeeeed meeeeeeee......
David noticed this sign right beside the phone... says "Cell phones may not work in the campground. In case of an emergency, a pay phone is located in front of the campstore."

Thank you, Captain Obvious.
Snack time done! Mission accomplished.
Zombie baby is still hungry...rawwwwwwrrrrrrrrarrghghggggggg blanket delicious!

This is about how we all felt at the end of the day.

Hiking

This past Wednesday, my whole family was supposed to get together and go hiking for the week and weekend, but we had to cancel :( because my dad ended up being on call. Sad day. I love love love to hike. My family used to go every single year. Dad would always find this awesome cabin and we would hike all day, every day. It was so much fun.

We'd give each other Indian hiking names. The only ones I can remember are the ones we gave to Mamaw and Papaw G. Papaw was Falling Rock. Driving up through the mountains, you always see "Watch for Falling Rocks" signs. And, one day on the trail, Papaw ATE IT. It was a slippery trail...lots of loose rocks. Hence, Falling Rock. Mamaw was Hen Wallow. One of the trails led to a waterfall called Hen Wallow Falls and we thought it was perfect for Mamaw...a hen wallowing in the woods. It just seemed funny at the time.

There was also the time when Noah and Peter had gotten some new hiking boots and pants and we were walking and Noah kept whining about his feet and legs hurting. Mom, and all of us, just think he's whining because it was a long hike and we kept telling him to chill out and keep walking. When we got back to the cabin, Noah was undressing for a shower (calm down, he was maybe 6) and Mom noticed his legs and feet were streaked with blood and blisters. The pants and shoes were so stiff from not being worn enough and they just mauled his legs...poor Noah. To this day, Mom apologizes for that. I say it built character...it was good for him. He's stronger because of it.

Anwyays...since we didn't get to go hiking and since it feels GLORIOUS outside, David said we could go tomorrow. Yay!! So, he's taking me here...

Who knew that was 20 minutes from my house. Sigh....I don't think the leaves will be quite that pretty yet, though. But anyways. I'm soooooooooo excited! We're going to take some snacks and maybe pic-a-nic. I got a fabulous new backpack from Cara, that I adore.

Except, it looks nothing like that. It's more round and red and black. But this is all I could find online in 5 seconds.

I love the mountains ALMOST as much as I love the beach. And our new video camera and digital camera came in this week, so pictures! I will also film us petting a bear, because I'm pretty sure that will happen. (Just kidding...I saw that Grey's Anatomy episode.)

Oops

I apologize for the current state of the blog...I'm an idiot and I don't know what I've done. Will fix later.

Woes

Aside from my meat hands, a few other physical ailments have become my constant companions during this journey.

I have meat feet, but that's to be understood. At the end of a long day of walking, standing, eating, etc...I pretty much have hobbit feet. My toes look like little weiner dogs...fat and roly. Not as much fur, though...hopefully.

I'm starting to get one of those lines. I'm not super tan or anything, but I'm not porcelain white and el doctor said that a lot of gals who have some color will more than likely get the line. It's called the linea nigra...linea...something. I can't remember. It's not very dark (yet), so I'm calling it the linea almosta. It's completely ridiculous and unnecessary, but nevertheless, it's there. It doesn't bother me at all...well, except for one thing. Supposedly, you only get the line from your belly button down. Well, that's just a lie. Everyone I know that's gotten it has gotten it there and from the belly button up. I even see it in pictures. But all the "medical" journals and what have you say it's only on the lower half...obviously men wrote those. Well, the lower half of the line I have is perfectly straight...great. The upper half...well, it's wonky and not straight. It's inconsiderate. I figure if you're going to tag along and get a free ride out of it, you should at least have the common courtesy to uphold yourself in an orderly fashion. Moocher line. Whatevs.

When I first got babied, people kept telling me that I would get "pregnancy brain." I'm like..."yeah, okay, sure..." Oh my gosh, no...it's totally a real thing. And it's craaaaazy. It all started when I went for a walk a few weeks ago in the neighborhood and couldn't remember which side of the road you're supposed to drive on. I couldn't remember David's middle name the other day. I forget a lot of people's names nowadays. I can't make complete sentences (well, that's always been an issue for me, so I guess that doesn't count). I was meeting Malinda for lunch last week and I got ready, looking super cute, grabbed my keys and purse, headed out tha do. As I was walking to my car, I thought, "Something feels weird. I feel like I'm missing something." I look down...shirt, check...socks, check...shoes, check...pants, nope. Yeah, I still had on my boy brief pajama bottoms. It's very sad. People said I would be clumsy...I'm not so much clumsy as much as I just run into walls.

I will say one of the many fun things about being babied is that you get to mess with people. Like, at DSW a few weekends ago...kid walks up to me..."Is there a baby in there?" I say, "Nah, I swallowed a watermelon whole. That's why you have to chew. I'm paying for it now." After seeing the look of sheer horror on her face as she backed away from me, I quickly threw out there, "Yes, yes, I'm kidding. There's two babies in there, actually." They usually like that and don't run away screaming, and at least I got my laugh. David doesn't think it's very funny...I do.

Morning Time

A lot of people have asked me..."Ruth, how do you look so amazing in the morning? Even when you have no make-up on and haven't fixed your hair, you're a delight to behold."

I, myself, looked in the mirror this morning and thought, "Wow...you are striking."

I wanted to take a picture so I could share it with you all, but seeing as how I just sold both of my digital cameras in a yard sale this weekend and my new one (WOOT WOOT!) hasn't come in yet, I thought that'd be pretty tough to do. So, I decided to draw you a picture of what I look in the morning. Drawing is my untold skill...my true passion...poems will be written about my abilities one day.

This is what sweet David gets to see every morning...he's so lucky.

Hands

Oh, my poor hands. Dr. Mac said they might start swelling soon and develop arthritic symptoms, which will fade quickly after the birth of the girls. Well, yes...I have-a the swelling and-a the hurting. Usually only in the morning and they go back to normal during the day. It's very sad, though. They look like meat hands...whatever that means. Clown hands. Man hands. It's gross. And I'm so past being able to wear my wedding rings. Sad. I miss them. I can sorta wear my regular wedding band, but it's tiiiiiight. And my left hand doesn't like it. I drew a very accurate and incredibly detailed representation of what it looks like. Send the children out of the room...for you are about to behold MEAT HANDS!

It comes for you in the niiiiiight......

Completely Random

So, you know when it's late and you're tired and everything is funny. We were visiting Zack and Malinda last week and Malinda is one of the troop leaders for the Girl Scout group here and they had a retreat this weekend and the theme was jungle stuff. Wild stuff? Something about the jungle and being wild. Anyways. So, we (David) helped her inflate the animals and then set them on the back of the love seat as sentinels. I dunno...it was hilarious to me. I found the picture this morning and well, it's still funny to me.

Also, is it okay that I push the babies around? Not like in a bossy sense, but in the sense that I can feel them bouncing around in there and I'll push them away and they'll come back up. They totally high-five me so I know they're cool with it and I figured since they're in there bashing each other anyway, a little love pat or two from me won't hurt them.