Frosting on a spoon beats a cupcake...

The week has been lacking in sleep for me culminating in a torturous night of wakefulness with Haylee making hourly demands until this morning. Maybe some teeth are finally making a debut (I've blamed everything for the last 3 months on teething...) We still managed a few trips to the library, some shopping and some play time with friends for Whitney.
These two kids belong to Melissa and John Houston. They sandwich Whitney in age and she has a blast whenever they are around. I've been having them over to help Melissa get a moment of rest but it has been so fun that I've been lucky to have an excuse to steal them away from her. You'll see us for sure this week, Melissa!
Whitney says stuff all the time that I should write down and tonight I actually did it! She was talking about Jason being her daddy and she said to me, "He's not your daddy, he's your babe." I loved it. At this point, I will take a moment to say that Jason is my sweet baby cakes and I love him. For a while, we were getting up to bed a little earlier with the kids and we ended up talking almost every night for a few hours and it was so enriching... then the Olympics started and were on until midnight. I loved watching them (obsessively) but I'm glad to be able to focus on our little family again and specifically having a few quiet moments with my hot man.

Mom and I cut Whitney's bangs and I'll just apologize now to her. Whitney, I'm sorry that you will spend half of your childhood with crooked bangs. It's a good thing you have such a sparkling personality.

Raising these guys together is interesting. Tonight, Whitney pushed Haylee so she whacked her head against the wall, shoved Haylee's head between her legs, pulled Haylee off my lap (luckily I had a good grip on her), and of course, took toys away from her.
But in between all the violence she gives Haylee hugs and kisses, picks up toys Haylee drops, jumps up and down to make Haylee laugh, and just loves her! I guess that's what it means to be a sister...

The other night, I wanted to sit down and write a post and I sat down but couldn't think of anything to say. It made me feel bad for some reason, like I didn't have thoughts good enough to share or a life exciting enough to describe. I finally gave up. I think I was extra frustrated because usually when I do have something to write, I have a thousand interruptions or I stay up and lose valuable sleep time to finish a post and here I was with time and nothing to say. I guess it is therapeutic and rewarding to be able to share a little bit of myself. It sounds funny but I'm glad I had something to say tonight. The end!