The Kids Are Alright

The only time I ever feel guilty about only having one child is when everyone gets together and hilarity ensues. (I'm not really sure I could handle more than one, anyway.)


Look! It's a kindle of kitties! Er, kiddies. (Don't ask me what exactly is going on there, though. We were trying to get everyone to sit still and pose nice for a group picture, but ... well, have you met my child? She's the ringleader of this feral band of adorable moppets.)


Evidently they were practicing somersaults at some point. Or maybe training for their future careers as acrobats in the circus. Well, Shae would be an acrobat, and Joey would be a professional cleaner-upper-after, because he likes to clean. My kid just likes making a mess, and eating artificially-cheese-flavored salty snack foods.

See? I am not the only one who wants to eat the baby's face.


This is SO how we roll in my familial unit. Nothing ever makes sense, and I wouldn't want it any other way.

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