Majoring in Genius: As promised.

Hey everybody. Today is one of those days that doesn't feel like real life. I'm not sure how coherent this post will be. I'm the only one who went to church yesterday because everybody's got the runny nose and stuffy sinuses and cough and gunk, and now my throat is starting to itch. I may not walk out unscathed.

But we shall carry on. Okay, guys. Pictures first? Or anecdotes and such? I choose anecdotes. The pictures are so cute that you won't stick around for boring words when you've seen them.

We were twenty minutes late to Katie's first day of preschool last week because she thought she would make a good first impression if she showed up wearing only her owl backpack.

Katie will now only eat sandwiches for lunch if I use a cookie cutter on them. We've had duckies, bunnies, ginger men, and cowboy boots. The ducky is her favorite.

Our kitchen is right above the garage, and when the garage door is opening or closing, it's loud. So last week, Katie was putting the silverware away while I emptied the rest of the dishwasher (she won't let me do the silverware anymore) when we heard the garage door open for Mike. Katie dropped what was in her hand into the drawer, flung her arms in the air, and bolted for the stairs down to the garage, screaming, "You do the silverware! Daddy's home!"

Remember the whole potty-training thing? Well, it's going rather well. But every night we spend a lot of time in the bathroom while Katie stalls bedtime by claiming she needs to poop. And when I get frustrated, I start saying, "Are you going to make a poopie? Or should we go back to your bed?" And last Thursday she responded with, "I am making a poopie. This big, like a coconut."

The other day, Katie left her cereal on the table almost untouched. I said, "Katie, are you going to finish your breakfast?" "No, I don't want to eat my breakfast! I'm hibernating!"

"I am a Child of God" is Katie's bed time song, and I've had to sing it rather a lot the last couple of weeks because she has refused to go to sleep on her own. But last week she started saying, "No, don't sing that, sing it in Pork-a-cheese." (Mike went on his mission to Brazil.)

This is a big one. Want to know why? It officially inducts the boys into the sticky-note club. The other day, I stuck the boys on the floor (both with binkies in mouths) to play so I could grab laundry or something. I heard crying, so I turned back around, to see that Josh was crying, and Peter had Josh's binky in his mouth. Peter's binky was thoughtlessly cast aside. (And by cast aside I mean way across the room where Peter had launched it.)

I saw a really funny article the other day about horrific things about raising twins you never see in the movies. One thing he brought up was that other people will see your twins interacting and say, "aw, they're so cute! They want to go down the slide together!" And really, they're both trying to be the first one down the slide, and now they're stuck wedged in like that because they wouldn't let the other one go first. This is SO TRUE. It's really cute when my boys hold hands or reach for each other, but I'm fairly sure it's more like arm wrestling or threatening. (Grabbing each other's collar during feeding like, "Watch it, buddy. This is MY mommy.")

And for my last anecdote, Katie took a time when I was really frustrated at her and ready to just leave her in her room all day to say, "I will always be your Katie. I will always make you better." Darn it, child!

Okay, fine. Pictures.

First, our 5 months photo shoot.

Ya know, a typical family portrait for my children.

And then I let Katie take the camera. (With the neck strap on, obviously.)

She made me take my pony tail out for my picture. Hence the wild and crazy mane.

You're never going to believe this, but I'm actually not offended at the picture Katie took of me. It's okay, despite the wild and crazy mane.

Now, for other pictures from the last month and a half or so.