The Monkey meets Capt'n Crunch

Pops! The next best thing when the mom has forgotten to bring home Capt'n Crunch to start out a 6 year-old's morning.

Looking good Reed! This look should last for about 1 hour of church.

Look! Two new teeth and they're coming in crooked! But they are still so cute.

That's a nice way of stretching one's arms.

"See what mommy planted last spring? It's green and it's alive! Ewww, that could be kind of gross."

Well, I often talk about my boys, but have gotten out of the habit of taking pictures of them and posting them on my blog. You may have started to think I keep them safely stored in a closet and that I bring them out only for special occasions, like dinner, homework, or Star Wars reenactments. No, they really are here, and are to some degree open-range children, moo. Maybe not as open-range as a neighbor boy named Comanche, who every day at about 3:45 will give our front door a fierce pounding and then an earnest pleading for someone to play with. I really feel bad for “only” children and it makes me think, "wow, twins really are a blessing!"

The real reason for the lack of pictures is that after 5 months of being locked inside of our constantly re-circulated heated air, no doubt germ infested, house, plus looking daily at the same marker scribbled on walls, and by evening sporting a Little Einstein glazed-over look in our eyes, pictures just aren't even thought of. So, yesterday while the weather was a balmy 35 degrees, Douglas and I went outside to play on the monkey bars and shoot a few pictures as proof that Michigan's winter hasn't totally left us hopeless and bereft of a Spring. We survived but only for about 15 minutes then had to call it quits and swing back into the house, scratching our arm-pits and making oo-oo-ee-ee (monkey) noises. (how do you spell that anyway?)

As a result of returning to that re-circulated air, Douglas spent last night emptying his innards, much in the fashion that Isaac did about a week ago. Luckily Douglas knows the feeling and can ask for a bowl and help. Also, because of his excellent aim, there was no mess that a good laundry machine couldn't clean up. He is better now, I think… He plans on recovering by Wednesday for that is the big day, the day in which the Kindergarteners and not the "Graders," as Reed calls the "upper-classmen," get to go to the movies to see "Horton Hears a Who."

I just had Chris edit my entry here. He's my comma conscience (wow, I just spelled that last word correctly. I always find it a relief when my arch enemy Mr. Spell Czech doesn't underline my misspelled words in that frightening crimson color! Did Bill Gates have a bunch of old retired elementary school marms with bifocals design his editing software?) I love you Chris for your sexy calves and your Jedi-like mastery of the comma.

"Don't I look so cute and innocent? Well, I am...mostly."