...Up To

The ellipses in the title stands for "What We've Been Up To". It just seemed weird to put that in the title...seems weirder to be talking about it now. Anyways.

It's been a super busy past few days. Mom drove me and the girls back home and then had to leave on Saturday. Boo. I had a great time with the 'rents, but I'm very glad to be home. I missed Hugsy so much. The girls took only about a day to get back into their normal routine again, which has been fabulous. Perfect little angels.

On Saturday, we had a swim party with some friends. Shane "took a picture" of us.

We got to hang out with some folks we hadn't seen in too long, so that was a lot of fun! Audry, Wes and Megan came, too. And sweet, 3-year old Megan brought me my Quote of the Day for today (more like Quote of the Month/Year/Eon the way I've been keeping up with it). Megan's pretty sassy. I wonder if she gets that from her Mom...hmmmmmm...I dunno.

Ruth, holding Megan in the pool, whispering in her ear: Why don't you go tell your Mommy you want a baby brother or sister?

Megan, whispering back: What?

Ruth, still whispering: Go tell your Mommy that you want a baby brother or sister.

Megan, out loud: Oh...no. She's not really my Mommy, you know.

So, now we're all wondering who Megan's real Mommy is. She looks very much like her Dad, so we've always questioned it anyway. And now, the innocent words of a child. We don't know who Audry gave birth to that day, but I don't think it was Megan. Megan also proceeded to jump into the pool while we were taking a picture of her with the twins, scaring us half to death. Wes appeared out of nowhere and helped me lift her back out of the pool...one hand holding Harper, the other holding Megan's arm. She later told Audry she did it because "she wanted to swim like Nemo." I've told Audry she needed to create a Book of Quotes for Megan because she would be a billionaire selling those things. It would be filled with little treasures like, Megan refuses to eat BBQ because "it hurts her eyes."

The rest of the weekend...

Harper started her training for the Baby Olympics 2012.

I put stuff on their heads.

They watched their baby videos.

We tried to use the flash on the phone and instead, we traveled back to 1982 and took a picture.

Piper good-gamed Harper.

I tortured them until they told me everything...EVERYTHING!!!

While at my parents' house, we came up with this brilliant idea to contain Harper inside the inflatable duckie bath. Just fill it with her toys and VOILA!...instant play pen. Nope. Harper cannot be contained. And Piper Lee is a crazy person.

Dream Job: Billionaire Cake Maker Writer

Jenny says: My dream job would be to have an outrageous amount of money so that I didn't have to have a "job," but could travel around the world giving it away and doing cool things with it and telling people about Jesus. And when I traveled around, I would make cakes for people for free. And write things for them.

Jenny is one of my favorite people. She's a writer/editor at a company I used to work for. That's how we met. And I'm so glad. She's super dry (as in humor, not like as in mummy) and super witty and always makes me laugh. And she says stuff like this, "A good run can make the world seem a better place. On a side note, I'm pretty sure that running shorts are made for people whose thighs don't touch."

She is an amazing cake artist. Not only does her stuff taste delicious, it looks incredible. I'm talking, flipping incredible. And she just does it for "fun."

Last year for Halloween, Jenny and her husband, Stephen, were Jack and Kate from LOST. Another reason I love Jenny.

But before Jenny becomes a Billionaire Cake Maker Writer, we must explore how she becomes a billionaire (aside from the obvious fact that she'll be a best-selling author one day)...there are two scenarios...

OR....

GASP! I'm shocked. You people have filthy, filthy minds and I'm embarrassed for you. That was meant to portray Stephen's stainless steel pole empire that he built from ground up...supplying companies with all of their stainless steel needs. Besides, Stephen would never go to such extremes. So, let's just stick with the frog story.

Jenny as a Billionaire Cake Maker Writer...

I know my topographical skills are pretty amazing. I can never remember which way Italy kicks Sicily. It's to the left, right? Also, you might be wondering why Jenny wears clothes sometimes, but not other times. Well, you'd have to ask her. I don't dress her, now do I.

Jenny, I think you would be an awesome Billionaire Cake Maker Writer.

Sterling

Before I tell you about Sterling, I was going to say THANK YOU, JOCELYN! for the bib link! Uh heck yes, that's exactly what I need. I'm ordering about 72 of those. And also, uh, your Etsy shop...hellooooo! ADORABLE. Why have I not seen this shop before now. And also, I love your name.

Speaking of Etsy, Jamee, I need to order some bows from you. The girls are finally getting some hair.

So, Sterling...Sterling is a super adorable 5-year old...the son of Roger and Becca, both of whom I used to work with a few years ago. Both awesome folks. I don't think Roger reads this blog, so I'll tell you the superhero name I gave him. I give everybody a superhero name. (You guys don't tell him...Kinsley, Erin, Tris, Mrs. Micki, Jenny, etc. I'm pointing at you.) Roger has this AMAZING goatee...and RED hair. I'm talking...fire red. So, he was aptly named Firebeard. You guys should see his beard...nobody, I mean NOBODY, can grow a beard like that. So, Firebeard.

Sterling is the guardian and keeper of three younger red-headed sisters...Landry, Kinsley and Murray. He's such a presh kid. So sweet and such a gentleman. Sterling started having seizures a year or so ago and they took him in for an MRI. Brain tumor. The then 4-year old had brain surgery to remove it. Up and about doing his regular stuff later that week. Whaaat? How many of us could do that? Not soon after, he started having seizures again...another MRI confirmed not all of the tumor had been removed and it was growing. After countless doctor visits, they decided to do surgery again, this time to get everything. That was yesterday. The surgery went very well and the doctor got everything he could see. They're doing another MRI this morning (right now, actually) to confirm it's all gone. Sterling is recovering well.

I dunno...I just wanted to tell y'all about this super cool kid and to ask you to pray for him and his family. I know it's been an up and down year for them. But, it's so insane, Sterling has been a rock, so brave and chill about it all. "Faith like a child" has a whole new meaning. Sterling trusts in His Lord to protect and heal him. God's got a plan and purpose and Sterling is totally fine with that. Roger tweeted yesterday about what a ladies man Sterling has been in the hospital...telling the nurses how pretty they are and letting them know about his three girlfriends he has back home. Almost every picture of Sterling in the hospital–surgical drawings on his noggin, monitors hooked up to his chest and head, a million ID bracelets–in almost all of them, he's giving two thumbs up. It's just humbling how much immovable faith a 5-year old can have and how much I doubt and question stuff all the time. Sterling has taught me a lot.

Praying for you, buddy. Stay updated on Sterling's blog.

Tomorrow, the Billionaire Cake Maker Writer...I mean it this time.

Wacom!!

I've got my Wacom pen back! (Thanks, Hugsy Bear!) But no post today... :( Sors. Hmmm...you can't abbreviate "sorry" like you can "awesome" (awes) because it sounds like you're saying SARS and you know how that causes a panic.

So, here are some pictures we just took for you. Pipes' bib isn't dirty...in fact, it's quite clean. But that's how stained it is. I just ordered about 20 new ones that haven't come in yet, so we're stuck with the Skoal stains for now.

Have a great Monday!

Blurg.

So, I had intended on posting Jenny's dream job today...the billionaire cake maker writer...but I left my Wacom tablet pen at home (HOW HAVE I SURVIVED THIS WEEK?!?! AGGHHH!) and David's bringing it to me tomorrow when he comes down for the weekend (I'm at my parents' house again). And I know you're wondering why I can't just use the mouse...WELL, duh...it's not the same. Once you go Wacom, you never go...that doesn't work. And besides, the drawing would end up like this...

...and not at all like the normal masterpieces you're used to. So, Jenny, I'm waiting for the pen.

Sweet puddin pie Davey Pooh is coming to see us for the weekend! Woo hoo! I've missed him so. We'll be back home next weekend. I needed some help during the day. I had just about reached that point and needed a break so Mom was like, "Come on down!" And then she'll come and stay with me a few days at home to help. Oh, Mom, thanks.

Yeah, I realized I was at my limit on Monday when Peter and Mom watched the girls while I ran an errand at Wal-Mart. The cashier asked me, "You okay? You don't look like you feel very good." Yeah, my self-esteem was mile-high at that moment. I smiled and said, "Ah, no, I'm just really tired." So very tired...so...very...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

And, on top of looking like a zombie...

...so I'm just a bundle of joy right now.

GYAH! I WISH I HAD MY WACOM PEN!!

Anyways.

So, Twitter, yeah. 13. You guys are my favorites. The rest of you need to get with it or I (see image above) am coming after you. And if you don't do Twitter, GET AN ACCOUNT RAARRRRWRRRGHGHRHARRRRGHGHGHG!!! IT'S VERY EASY TO JOIN RAAWWWWWRGHGHGHRRGHAWWRRGHG!

Everybody have a good weekend! Hugs!

Future Beethovens?

Does anybody else think it's way more fun to say Beeth Oven rather than Bay Toven? Spell it phonetically, man.

Mom got them this sit and play piano for when the twins visit and they LOVE it. And they're not super fond of sharing it. Harper, however, is very fond of ears.

I know you're all wondering why I didn't go into cinematography for a career, but I didn't want to dominate the industry with my skillz. It wouldn't be fair to the others.

Also, don't worry about the spots on Piper Lee's back and neck. She was getting some tattoos and backed out at the last minute. (She had been laying on top of a toy and it's showing up redder than it actually was.) And no, I don't let her roam around naked all the time. She had just spit up.

Here is a little Twinzers love for your Thursday (or Wednesday night...whenever).

Dream Job: Billionaire Cake Maker Writer

Jenny says: My dream job would be to have an outrageous amount of money so that I didn't have to have a "job," but could travel around the world giving it away and doing cool things with it and telling people about Jesus. And when I traveled around, I would make cakes for people for free. And write things for them.

Jenny is one of my favorite people. She's a writer/editor at a company I used to work for. That's how we met. And I'm so glad. She's super dry (as in humor, not like as in mummy) and super witty and always makes me laugh. And she says stuff like this, "A good run can make the world seem a better place. On a side note, I'm pretty sure that running shorts are made for people whose thighs don't touch."

She is an amazing cake artist. Not only does her stuff taste delicious, it looks incredible. I'm talking, flipping incredible. And she just does it for "fun."

Last year for Halloween, Jenny and her husband, Stephen, were Jack and Kate from LOST. Another reason I love Jenny.

But before Jenny becomes a Billionaire Cake Maker Writer, we must explore how she becomes a billionaire (aside from the obvious fact that she'll be a best-selling author one day)...there are two scenarios...

OR....

GASP! I'm shocked. You people have filthy, filthy minds and I'm embarrassed for you. That was meant to portray Stephen's stainless steel pole empire that he built from ground up...supplying companies with all of their stainless steel needs. Besides, Stephen would never go to such extremes. So, let's just stick with the frog story.

Jenny as a Billionaire Cake Maker Writer...

I know my topographical skills are pretty amazing. I can never remember which way Italy kicks Sicily. It's to the left, right?

Jenny, I think you would be an awesome Billionaire Cake Maker Writer.

I Rattle. I Roar.

I am the king.

The king of the jungle.

The baby jungle.

I roam fearlessly.

I survey my domain...my kingdom.

For I am king. A rattle king.

I traverse rugged mountains with ease.

I wade effortlessly through the inundating rapids.

I fear nothing. All fear me. But alas...

I am a good king.

Those within my realm, those beneath me, those I protect...

They turn their eyes...

For they cannot withstand the enrapturing brilliance for which my splendor calls.

My voice.

My somber, sonorous tone.

Grown men weep. Women grow faint. Bones shatter.

Upon hearing it.

I roar.

Shake.

Rattle.

Roar.

I am the harbinger of havoc.

And doom.

To those who would bring harm to the two I protect.

The two, fat two. My pride.

Their hands take hold of mine.

We run through the fields.

Mirth and laughter dancing alongside.

A soft breeze carrying the white, wispy smiles of the dandelion...higher...higher.

Higher.

Until the last smile leaves. With a wink.

Mountains of diapers.

Rivers of Similac.

My domain.

I am the king.

I protect my two.

My fa---awwwwww, man. Seriously? Is that poop? Thanks. Thanks for wiping it on me. And yeah, there's vomit. Squash? Apricots? What IS that? Ohh...just stop. Okay. Great. Thanks. All in my mane. Awesome.

I am the king.

I rattle.

I roar.

Twoots

Hey! So, I joined the crowd and got on the Twitter thingy. I'm not 100% sure what to do. I know it's called "micro-blogging," but all that makes me think of is tiny people...like, 2 inches tall...jumping up and down on a keyboard, typing something, so...you know. But, I'll be updating throughout the day...twittering. Twittering? Twooting? Twirt? Twart? Ha. Hey, who twarted? Heh heh...

Follow me!

Dream Job: Potter

Mom says: I would make all kinds of awesome pottery.

Mom has always wanted to build a kiln at their house and make pottery. I know she'd be really good at it. I don't know if it's because they haven't gotten around to it, or because Dad's a little nervous about Mom heating things up to 750º, but they haven't built it yet. Mom, you should bribe him with a travel magazine or trail book or something. You know how he gets excited about those things. "Backpacks? I like backpacks. I can put my granola bars in there and we can hike to the cruise ship or Star Trek convention. Have you guys seen my Merrell hiking sandals? I know I put them next to my Columbia convertible pants, but they're missing. Let me get my GPS and look for them."

I took pottery as an art elective in college. It was a lot of fun...very therapeutic. It was especially awesome when one of my classmates would get super mad and throw his lump of clay against the wall. Or, when a girl wanted to melt marbles in the bottom of a bowl for "artistic effect" and she put too many in and it exploded and cracked everyone else's projects. Man, good times in the pottery lab. I got an A.

So, Mom...here is your dream job. A potter.

No, not that kind of potter. This kind....

Sadly, Mom will not get this reference. Mom, just call me and I'll explain.

And yes, I'm just now realizing I drew my parents in that scene. And yes, I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.

Advice

At the outlet mall this past weekend, I was in Gap and, of course, I meandered on over to the baby section...gooing and smiling like a goob at the little girls' clothes. A lady walked up and asked if I needed a bag to carry my stuff (I had piled a mountain of clothes over my shoulder to free my hands so I could manhandle those adorable baby clothes). I politely declined saying I was about to try these on and that I was just browsing. She asked if I had kids. In my head, I thought it'd be funny to say, "These are kids' clothes?!" But she was super sweet, so I didn't. I said, "Yes...we have twin girls," and explained how they were at home with my aunt, uncle, and cousin. She said, "Oh wow, I bet you have your hands full." I nodded and smiled (and inwardly sighed...yes, so very full). We talked a little more and she asked to see some pictures, so I pulled out my phone and showed her some. I mentioned/shamelessly advertised I had taken these for my blog and she asked about Bogue & Weejer. I just said it was full of random junk and she said, "I bet you offer a lot of parenting advice, huh?" I thought for a minute and responded, "Actually, not really. I talk a lot about the girls, but I'm not the greatest advice giver." We talked a tad more and then I tried on my clothes and bought a super fabulous little jacket for the Fall.

Another gal has asked before why I don't write more about parenting. If you want me to, I will, but it'll seriously end up like this..."Don't let your kids tan on the roof." I'm a parent, but I'm not a parenting expert. To be honest, I don't think anybody is. Yes, I am more of an expert on children than someone who doesn't have children. I am more of an expert on twins than someone who doesn't have twins. But that doesn't make me the ultimate expert. I like the word "ultimate." ULTIMATE EXTREME. Sounds like an energy drink....one you should not give to your children...there's another bit of advice for ya.

I do the best I can with my kids and I know what works best for us, but that doesn't mean the same will work for another parent. If anybody ever asks me a question about babies, I'll give them the best answer I've got, but I'm not going to throw "advice" out there. I think it's all trial and error...you learn as you go. Just to clarify, that means, "Let's see if little Johnny will go down for his nap on his own," not "Let's see if little Johnny can reach the gas pedals so he can take himself to daycare."

Just like everyone everywhere in the world has always said, no two children are alike. Even twins. You have to tailor things for babies...not clothes, silly...like, schedules and stuff. I've been incredibly fortunate that the twins have just about the same schedule...praise God. It's hard working full-time and taking care of the girls, but they take naps together about half of the time and they entertain each other, so I'm able to survive. They're pretty awesome. But being on a schedule doesn't always work for everybody.

We've never rocked the girls to sleep. From day one, we've put them down on their own and yeah, at the beginning, we had to go and pick them up and pat their backs, but only for a short time. And now, they play for a bit and go right to sleep. Same with naps...on their own. That's been a huge blessing. But, you know, that doesn't work for everybody. I can tell you what we did to help that happen, but your kid may hate it and inevitably hate me for telling you about it and I don't like it when babies hate me. They get feisty and they spit things...like little angry camels.

Growing up, there was no such thing as Time Out in our house. Instead, there was The Wooden Spoon and a Thigh or Butt Cheek. Spankings worked on us. It didn't always work on some of our friends. Time Out worked for them. We called it Pansy Hour, because we were like, "You gotta man up and take the whoopin', Freddie." But Freddie was devastated when he was in Pans–I mean, Time Out. Same with babies. No, I do not mean you should put your babies in Time Out. I'm just saying it's different for each one.

I've had people tell me left and right that I "need" to do this or that with my kids. I need to play French videos for them. I need to enroll them in baby dance classes. I need to take them up in a hot air balloon before they turn a year old. It's so weird, because all this "need" stuff wasn't around a 50 years ago and those people turned out okay. My great-grandmother tied her kids to trees with ropes around the waist so she could work out in the cotton fields. My grandfather is one of the smartest people you will ever meet. Tied to a tree...yeah. I'm just saying that people are going to give you all this advice about the things you should be doing with your babies, but you do what you know is best for them. You're a good parent. Or if you're pregnant, planning, adopting, or just hanging out with other folks' kids...you're fine. People will always bombard you with information and advice...most of it is well-meant. But no one is a expert on your kid as much as you are. Love them. Spend time with them. Put your family first. Your kids are gonna be fine. That's my advice. Oh WAIT, feed them. Don't forget that.

I don't offer advice (unless you ask for it) because the only kids I'm an expert on are mine and I'm pretty sure the chances of you having a clone of one of my kids are slim to none. That would be pretty fantastic, though, huh. We would be in magazines and stuff. They'd make a Lifetime movie about us. The Twins and the Clone and the Beautiful Women Who Bore Them. Oh, but wait...then they'd want to do tests on the girls and send them into space...no, nevermind. Don't have a clone of my kid.

Toys

Before the twins were born, I read about this and that toy and how, if you buy it for your child, they'll grow up to be the smartest and most popular kid around. Ha. As we all know, that's not true. But still, being a new parent, you get sucked into the I HAVE TO HAVE THIS FOR MY BABY BECAUSE THAT BOOK TOLD ME SO mindset. I'm going to go ahead and say that about 90% of what you read won't ever apply to you. Some parts that applied to me won't apply to you and vice versa. The whole "no two babies are alike" deal. Of course, toy companies want you to buy their products...claiming they'll make your kids smarter or cuter or something.

I bought tons of stuff just because I wanted my kids to have the most fun toys around, so I would be the coolest mom ever. Yeah, they don't care. And the truth is, babies will play with anything. Mine absolutely LOVE anything that lights up. Jamee recommended one of those ring stacker toys, but a new version that lights up. You would have thought I brought the Eiffel Tower home with me. They also play with, for hours, those little individual rings that you hook toys to and hang from places. The RINGS...not even a real toy. They'll play with a diaper for forever. They are obsessed with jewelry and glasses (like, on your face glasses...not shot glasses). We always say they're ferrets and they're collecting jewelry and building a nest in one of their cribs. I'm serious.

And while we do have a ton of toys for them, I realize now that I don't have to keep buying age-appropriate toys...haha, I almost typed "boys"...yeah, no age-appropriate boys in the house. So, while I will continue to add to their repertoire over time, I'm not going to spend $34.99 on every single thing the latest baby update tells me I "need" to buy for a 7 month old. And especially when they're so content with the plastic toilet paper roll bag.

(Disclaimer: I never leave them unattended with plastic bags...or hyenas.......Mom.)

South Caroliney

Thank you to you guys who emailed and commented on the dream job post. I am working on your award-winning illustrations and will post them soon. And Katy, you made my day. And Leah, thank you so much for your sweet words the other week. Aw, shucks, you guys. About 99.9% of you are quiet readers...well, I guess reading implies quiet, but you know what I mean. I know how many folks stop by every day and it means the world. GROUP HUG!

Friday night, my Uncle Greg, Aunt Becky and cousin Drew drove up to stay with the girls so David and I could head to South Carolina for David's cousin's (Will) wedding. Make sense?

Drew is the cousin that got held up by security at the airport a few weeks ago when coming home from Costa Rica because they thought he was a terrorist. He was wearing flip flops that had a special compartment inside the flop part that could hold a note pad and pen. He "had no idea" those compartments were there when he bought the shoes. So, of course the pen registered on the metal detector and it was like WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?! Which, actually, is great because it lets you know they take airport security seriously. It's just funny, because Drew is one of the nicest people you will ever meet. And it's weird, because he doesn't look like someone who would be a terrorist at all. (Love you, Droops.)

So, off we went. About 5 minutes on the road and we started missing the twins like crazy. This was the first time David and I had been away from them together overnight. I know, I know...really we only were away from them for one day (two nights) but it was TOUGH. We talked about them the entire time. I have videos and pictures on my phone and we just watched those over and over. Like Uncle Greg said, it's funny how you get excited to have a short weekend away from the kids just for a break, but you spend the entire time missing them and talking about them. So true.

We drove a little over halfway there and spent the night...right next to an outlet mall. Whoop whoop! David's idea...not mine. So, Saturday morning, we got up and went SHOPPIN'! That was a lot of fun. There were some tool and cookware stores for David. And some clothing, shoe, and jewelry stores for me. We hung out there for a little while and hit on the road again, Jack. Wait...what?

I don't absolutely love car trips. I start getting antsy. We take videos and lots of music with us. Usually we just play Friends episodes. We've seen them all so many times that even the person driving knows what's going on just by listening. But still...sitting in a car for hours is lame.

The world's most ginormous bottle of water.

It was a beautiful ceremony. Sara's dress was GAW-GEOUS.

And the reception was super fun!

Limes.

Ohhhh, I almost (conveniently) forgot. I had just bought these SUPER HIGH pumps...I'm talking, quite possibly, a 5" heel. Maybe 4.5"...either way, about 4" too high for Ruth. And I want to be one of those people that wears those kinds of shoes. Well, not really, but I want to wear them sometime for funsies. So, I thought I'd give them a shot. And yeah, despite looking super tall and sassy in them, I couldn't walk in them. (I'd rather be barefoot or in tennis shoes.) So, after the ceremony, they excused each row individually and we are THE FIRST ROW to be let out. I'm the last person in the row. Of course, I trip all over myself in front of everybody as I enter the aisle. Why wouldn't I? I mean, that's what I do. Ruth trips. Ha ha. It was all very funny. So, I took the stupid shoes off and slip on some silver sandals I had with me for just in cases.

Will had his band play at the reception and he joined in on the drums.

David's 86 year old grandma took Richard for a spin on the dance floor.

We had such a good time visiting with David's family! David and I got to meet Susan, David's other cousin's fiancé. And she is one of my new favoritest people. I'm so glad you're joining the family, Susan. We need another sane person during game nights. (Have you seen all of them play games? You need a helmet. Grandmama is the worst.)

Have fun in St. Lucia, Will and Sara! Watch out for iguanas!

We drove home Sunday morning (after sleeping in for a tiny little bit) and we couldn't get home fast enough. The girls were asleep, but as soon as they woke up, I snatched them up and snuggled them so tight. Golly, I missed them. It's going to be hard to be gone for a week in October. I mean, don't worry, I'll survive...but I will miss them.

Dream Job

I know you've been asked or played a game and the question was, "What is your dream job?" Even though I really do have my dream job...I get to be all designery and work from home and be with my kids all day. I really do enjoy the work I do and I love the people I do the work for...they're pretty. (Really I just sit around and youtube and spy on the neighbors and nap and, if someone requests something, I have my minions do the work for me...ha...if only I had minions.) I used the word "really" too much just then.

But that's a given. I know a lot of people love their jobs. I know a lot of people are only semi-okay with their jobs. But whether you love your real job or not, everybody has a dream job.

I'm talking about your ULTIMATE dream job.

For instance...my dad. He is a doctor. But his ultimate dream job would be to be an architect, like Frank Lloyd Wright. Dad's a very good drawer. He's a mean Pictionarian. And he's an amazing mathematician. And he's very creative. He designed my parents' house...a log cabin. (But he's also an excellent doctor. And he will pierce your ears for free.)

I asked David what his dream job was and he said, "I'm an accountant. I don't dream." So, I made one up for him. He would love to be a chef or confectioner...ooooh, or a chocolatier. When I told him that was his dream job, he got really excited, so yes...that is his dream job.

Noah, Sara, and Peter's dreams jobs are to be me one day.

It took me awhile to decide what mine was. I went through several and I narrowed it down to these four...make-up artist for movies, the reefkeeper on that private island in Australia (the person that all they do all day is keep an eye on that part of the reef and report climate conditions and test the water for pollutants and basically swim and sun all day), a travel critic (like Samantha Brown), or a personal shopper/decorator.

It was a tough decision. It came down between the make-up artist and the reefkeeper and then I decided that I would miss the Fall and I would miss America, so I picked the make-up artist. My ultimate dream job. Although, I would never trade what I have now for anything. I can't imagine being more satisfied or happy in a job than being a Mom to these two squirts. That's pretty much the most perfect job (privilege) I could ever have. Seriously. This dream job stuff is just for funsies.

I'm interested to know what your ultimate dream job is. Share and I will illustrate you and your dream job and post it. We all know how talented I am at all the drawing (you've seen the stick figures, right?). And if yours seriously is the current job you have right now...teacher, stay at home mom, food critic...then pick another one. And if you seriously don't have a fake dream job then either you're an accountant or you're dead inside. If you would like for me to pick a dream job for you, let me know.

Don't worry, Shane...I've already got yours...shark wrangler. NO...a remora! One of those fishies that hangs out on the backs of sharks.

Ole Noah

The older of my two baby brothers is headed to grad school today. After an extensive narrowing down process–choosing between schools like Ohio State, Georgia, somewhere in Pennsylvania, and Alabama–Noah decided that Ole Miss was the place for him. Their masters to doctorate program in History and Political Science was unmatched.

Noah doesn't know anybody there, so if you're there, go find him and be his friend. He's very sweet.

And tall. And looks a little bit like a baby harp seal.

And this is why most people post pictures of him with other people...if he's by himself in a picture, he does these things.

I guess we cheer for Ole Miss now. That's football, right? Ha, I said that just to aggravate. I know there's no such thing as football.

Solicitors

I'm home all day, working and keeping the twins alive. When the doorbell rings, I'm like, "Whose-a knockin'?!" Because usually if a visitor is coming to visitate, I know about it. Like, I know that Audry is coming over on Friday to pick up Megan's birthday present for her Saturday party that we'll be missing because we'll be up in South Caroliney for David's cousin's wedding. Got all that? We don't have a peephole, which annoys me. David said he'd install one, but then I think, "Well, it doesn't annoy me THAT bad." Badly? Bad? I think it might be "badly."

When someone knocks or rings the doorbell, I run to one of the front bedrooms and try to peep out inconspicuously. Sometimes Blue is sitting on the outside window sill and it scares me, but I can get a quick peep of the car. Nine times out of ten, it's the mailman or FedEx or UPS guys and I'm like, "Yay, a delivery!"

That last 1/10th is the one you gotta look out for. That's the solicitor. Most of the time, I can avoid them and just not answer...easy. David always answers the door and always answers the phone when he's here and I tell him, "well, then you can deal with the telemarketers and hoonannies that want to sell you magazines for a 'deal that only lasts today!'"

Dagnabbit...I'm eating a peach and, somehow, it all just came running out of my mouth onto my shirt...so now I gotta go change. Hang on.

New shirt. Okay.

Last week, I ordered a new phone and it's supposed to come in ANY SECOND NOW. So, when the doorbell rang yesterday around 11 a.m.-ish...ha, that looks like "amish"...I sprang for the door without an ounce of hesitation because I just knew it was that phone. That phone I answered the door for. That stupid phone. I expected Mr. FedEx to have a computer thingy ready for me to sign with the super tiny/awkward stylus...nope. IT WAS A SOLICITOR...times two. There were two men standing there, dressed very nicely. I'm pretty sure the word "disappointed" was plastered across my face in flashing neon lights, but they seemed so happy that someone answered the door. I wasn't.

I'm the type of person that will listen to an entire telemarketer's spill before I say I'm not interested. I can't stand the thought of interrupting them. And I know they're just doing their job...their annoying job. Same with solicitors...they've rehearsed their lines so much and I know it's worse to let them finish the whole thing and then say "no" than to just say "not interested" up front, but I'm afraid I'll hurt their feelings. I've always been like that. I don't like people waiting on me in restaurants. I love cruises, but the only thing I don't like about them is the fact you have personal room stewards. I don't like people waiting on me. Ask David...I end up waiting on our butler. Like, I'll bring HIM towels. And I know that's their job, but still. Anyways. Back to the solicitor.

So, I'm kind of pouting and then mad at myself for answering the door. Solicitor #1 says, "Good morning, ma'am. Are you happy today?" Immediately, I think, "Gracious alive. At least your script could be more awesome...like, I ate a whole bunch of bananas this morning. Literally, a bunch." But no...and I said, "Uh, yeah, sure." And he goes, "Well, wonderful. We're out saying hello to all of the happy neighbors. My boss pays me $10 to give you this Coke bottle," as he hands me a 2-liter of Coke. I say, "Oh, a Coke bottle." While I'm pondering the things I could do with that Coke bottle (I'm not a huge fan, but I was thinking about how fun it'd be to shake it up a bunch and let it explode in the back yard as it sits in the heat), he goes on about something and then says, "Okay?" And I say, "Okay." And then he and Solicitor #2 trot away happily and I think, "Oh, well, gosh, that was easy." And then I realized they were going to their van to get something...their unmarked van, with the incredibly tinted windows. They scrounge around for a bit and pop back out with huge backpacks. So, I waltz out there to them and say, "Listen, I'm so sorry. I have twins that are about to wake up to eat and I work from home and I don't have time to talk right now. I'm terribly sorry. Here is your Coke back." Well, golly gee, you would have thought I shot both of their favorite dogs the way they looked so sad. And they took the bottle back (and then I thought I wish I had kept) and I walked back inside. And then, brilliant me, went to peep out the window. And yeah, they were going door to door selling something with two other guys.

I'm interested now to see what they were selling, not because I wanted to buy anything, but because I want to know what they fit inside those backpacks.

And also, solicitor companies, don't have your salespeople start their pitch with "My boss pays me $10 to give you this Coke bottle." Have them start it with "My boss pays me $10 to give you this box of Snickers bars." You'll get a lot more business...trust me.

Beach! (for real)

EDIT: Just to clarify, the picture of the girls in the pool float...Richard and David were right there and had walked just outside of the camera frame for me to take the picture.....Mom. Gyah.

Last Wednesday night, after David got home, we bathed and fed the girls and instead of putting them to bed, we loaded them in the car and headed to my parents'. That's what we're going to start doing from now on if we travel anywhere with them...just travel at night. We thought it might throw off their sleep, but nope. They didn't actually sleep very much, but they were very, very quiet and very, very still. And as soon as we got home, they went straight to bed, so it worked out. Then we got up Thursday morning and drove a tad further to the beach and met up with David's family!

We had a great time and it made me look forward to future beach trips even more when the girls can play in the sand and run in the water. David and I, unfortunately, were only at the actual beach about 8 minutes. We went down one morning to get some pictures of the girls in the water and we did, but we had to do it fast. It was literally the hottest I have ever been in my entire life, and I've sunbathed in wool pajamas on the equator. It was just too hot to do anything outside, unless you were submerged in an ice bath the entire time. Which also means I didn't get a ton of pictures...too hot to breathe, much less take pictures and my camera fogged up every time I got it out of the pouch.

But we stuck their feet in the water and, to my dismay, they got their feet alllllll up in the sand. I tried hard to avoid that, but it was just us carrying a kid each plus our bag plus trying to lay down a towel plus trying to keep them out of the sun plus melting alive.

But we were able to stroll around Seaside and do a little bit of shopping. They have an awesome bookstore and I got the girls an illustrated book about baby sea turtles signed by the author himself "To Piper Lee and Harper." Let me rephrase that, I was stuck in an awkward situation where I either had to buy the book or walk away and possibly hurt the guy's feelings. But, actually, it's a really cute book I probably would have bought anyway and now it's signed by the author, so yay! And all of the proceeds went toward saving Florida's sea turtle population, so it was definitely a worthy cause because, let's be honest, how cute are baby sea turtles? Snuggle!! (And I did that for you, Brandi. [Brandi likes sea turtles.])

But we ate out one night and I got snow crab legs. Oh, you creepy little legs, why are you so delicious. The twins got swordfish and mahi mahi.

We hung out at the condo and watched Praise Baby.

We went to the pool and swam with the precious little boat that Aunt Laura Grace got for us.

We played this game called Food for Thought and it gives you a hint and the answer has something to do with food. I had no idea so many of the phrases we use have some sort of food reference in them. For instance, making money for the household is referred to as...? (answer at the bottom)

My favorite story from the trip was when...well, I have to set it up first...we were talking about Flight of the Conchords, which led us to talking about Demetri Martin and how you can make anything sound pervy if you add "ladies" to the end of it. Like, "Hey, could you pass me those potatoes...ladies." or "I'm going to run into town to get some supplies. Want anything...ladies?"

So, we were all on the elevator headed down...the shiny, silver doors open and Richard, being such a gentleman, says, quite loudly, "Ladiessssss," motioning for me, Rebecca, LG and GranJan to head off the elevator first. And off we head, directly into a group of bikini-clad teenagers waiting for the elevator. We snicker to ourselves, because now Ricardo is the Perv of the Condo Complex. The teens whisper to each other and glare menacingly in his direction. Although, he was carrying one of the twins, so how pervy could he actually be. Oh well. It was funny...ladies.

On the ride home, the girls actually were pretty good. The car seats (I would hate them, too, girls) starting wearing thin on them and I sat in the back with them most of the way. We played with chocolate wrappers and gossiped and sang some Broadway. Sad that I got more pictures of the trip home than I did the actual trip. Well, we did have air conditioning.

What is this chocolate you speak of?

I'llhavesomethanks.

Let me try a taste.

OHMYGOODNESSTHISISTHEMOSTAMAZINGTHINGEVER!

I know, Harper...I know.

Hey, the camera...I want.

GIVE ME THE CAMERA.

Give me what I want when I want it and everybody walks away alive.

Meanwhile, in the orange carseat...

Heeeeey...I want chocolate, too...sad face.

Inspecting...

I approve.

It was a lot of fun, I ate way too much, and hopefully the next time, the hater of all things pleasant and balmy will choose another vacation destination. Yay for the beach!!

Answer: Bringing home the bacon.