I don't have anything specific to say or write about today. I just know it's been awhile since I've written.
We've been a little on the social side lately. We've had guests for dinner at least twice a week for a month it seems. And play dates, outings with friends, school, work, work, music, school, la de da de da da da.
So lots to do.
And when there's a lot to do, and when it rains, and when your kids don't like the stroller anymore, and when it is so hard to get two kids outta the house because they are building statues on top of chairs, or throwing frozen peas on the floor, or when they take about 2 hours to get dressed, or when they cry because they don't like the way the tip of their sock feels, then it's hard to:
take a walk.
talk to a spouse.
go anywhere.
clean anything.
do anything.
think straight.
get things done.
remember things.
write blogs.
stay up late.
But when there's a lot do do, and when it rains, and when your kids pretend they are Mrs. Brisby, and the old auntie from the Secret of Nihm, and when they think their grandpa is the duke from Cinderella, and they think that their Dad is Darksied from the Legion of Doom, and they think their mom is the old Rat Nicodemus, and when they dress me up in ugly hats, and when they pour gallons of water out of a bathtub, and when Effie washes a yellow shoe diligently in the sink for 30 minutes as she scrubs the sole with a toothbrush after she rubs the toothbrush on a bar of soap, and when Celia and Effie play computer chess and write down neighbors phone numbers into the "search" fields of an old computer, then it's definitely easy to:
have fun.
be silly.
not clean.
make music.
watch them dance.
not write blogs.
feed them ice cream for being so cute.
take lots of unnecessary pictures and video.
watch and watch and watch.
let the day go by - and be happy that my kids are alive, safe, happy, strange, and being the cutest of kids.
The other night, Effie giggled uncontrollably, like a little teeny baby that hears a fart noise for the first time and can't stop laughing, and her little laugh in the dark cracked me up so bad, and her laugh got harder cuz I was laughing, and I felt like I was with Monica at church in 5th grade when we'd just be laughing at the dumbest things and can't stop. Effie is a clown. And I think she just may be the one to live out my dream of being a comedian. Hahaha. I made her say a different prayer the other night cuz her and Celia had been fighting a bit too much so I told her to repeat after me. It went like this:
me: "Dear God"
Effie: "Deeoorr Gaawts"
me: "Help me to be kind"
Effie: Heolp mes to be tines"
me: "and be very loving"
Effie; (long long pause)........ "and helps me to be veweeys... verweeys... FUNNIIIEEEE!"
What a wierdo.
I love them so much, and I wish I could just play more. I wish that I wasn't as sleepy sometimes to miss out on their cuteness that's gonna be gone one day. I wish I never had to leave to work to see Effie cry cuz she needs me to put on her socks the right way, but even though I'll get beat, tired, busy, or have to leave - I'm so lucky I get all that amazing time I do get to enjoy my FUNNNIEEEE babies.
