Laundry Day

Yes, I do have three teenage girls in the house, why do you ask?

(Poor Daddy.  We really must come up with a better hang-to-dry solution, but this is the one that ensures they are put away the second the girls get home from school.)

Putty in Their Hands

How much fun can two girls have with a camera and a tiny ball of poster putty?  Well, if you believe the evidence I found in my camera...LOTS.

They make me smile.

Baby Steps

Hello!  We're still alive.  I was talking to my mother-in-law today, telling her that I intend to blog a bit more.  Sort of a New Year's Resolution, or something.  You would think I would want to do it so that our family far away could be up-to-date on our happenings, but really, it's quite selfish.  You see, if I blog more often, then I remember more.  And then I tend to focus on all of the blessings I have, or the things I am ABLE to do, instead of the (much, much) longer list of things that don't always get done when living with chronic pain.  And, let's face it, nobody is getting any younger, so I might as well enjoy preserving memories of my little princesses while we still have them around.

Case in point:  Cinderella took the PSAT a couple of months ago in school.  They do this as sophomores so that they can get a little bit of an idea of their strengths and plan their high school career.  If you wanted to be emailed your results, you were to put down an email address.  Cinderella put mine.  And, at least once or twice a day in the last two weeks, I get a new email from some college in the US wanting to recruit her.  My 16-year-old.  Don't they know that she is still my baby?!  And will not be going anywhere for at least TWO years?!

In case you don't read subtlety well, this is freaking me out just a little.  I keep reminding myself that I must take this one day at a time.  Baby steps.  But, they keep growing so fast! And just two short years after Cinderella leaves, then the twinners will leave, and then...then what?  I don't know.  But I think I might not like it.  Or I might love it.  My thoughts on this subject really depend on how many hormones we have flying around on a given day.

Which reminds me.  Do you know how I keep telling you that if we aren't careful, poor daddy might up and leave this estrogen-saturated house and sleep in his office?  Well, this semester, he conveniently has a Monday night class that doesn't get him home until 10 p.m.  Crazy schedule, or baby steps to his new "abode"?  Hmmmmm.  ;)