Um. No.

So. Here I am. Finally doing this.
For now.
It's pretty common for me to start doing something and then get side tracked with Chloe screaming that Tessa's getting something she has or to have to stop because Alena needs help on her 60th project of the year.

Don't get me wrong. I love my life. I love my kids, and most of the time, I love my family as well.
Here is a picture of us:
Justin is my husband. We've been married almost 5 years, dated for 2 before that. We met when a friend tricked us into meeting on St. Patty's Day and we were together ever since.
Only afterwards did we admit to eachother that I was drawn to his dark skin (the darker the berry....) and he was drawn to my still half full plate of corned beef and cabbage.

Thus began our romance. Firey. Funny. Crazy-making. Never dull.

I came into the relationship already having Alena, my then 3 year old, who is now 10 going on 20. Alena has no idea why she should not be allowed to wear makeup, drive her own car, and move out. She is not bogged down with details like that she has no way of making money except for the random birthday check from a distant aunt, or that she would actually be fined if she had 50 puppies, like she says she will one day have.
For now, I will let her live in her dream world, because that is what you do when you're 10.

We tried for over a year to have a baby, once we got married. After a very exciting positive pregnancy test came a very painful miscarriage that truly changed my life.
The very next month, I was pregnant again.

Chloe.

Chloe is a lesson in being very careful what you not only ask but BEG God for.
She evokes passions both good and bad. There is no one like her on this entire planet, and for that I am thankful. God knew better than to make her twins.
She's smarter than she should be, cuter than should be legal, and most days I fear that she ACTUALLY drive me insane.
Padded walls. Pill cups. Restraints. The whole nine.

Before I had time to stop my head from spinning with Chloe entering the world, then came Tessa. The baby we USED to say we hardly even knew was there.

Not any more.

Tessa is barely a year old and is practically in a 6x.
She bowls over anything or anyone who gets in her way. She gets into everything. She EATS everything. For this, we lovingly refer to her as "Destructo"

She's squishy and cuddly and absolutely darling.

They all are. Which is a good thing, because otherwise I would most likely ship them off to a distant land.

Phoebe is our dog. She is a Boston Terrier, and she spins. ALL the time. Around and around and around and around until she's dizzy then she throws up. Awesome. The vet told us he thought she might have a brain tumor. We got a second opinion. That vet said no tumor. Just OCD.

Great. Just what I needed.

So most days my life sounds like this:
"Chloe, Mama said no screaming! What? What did you say? I can't understand you when you're whining. No, Tessa! Tessa, NO! Get out of there. Where did you GET that?! Give it to.....Tessa....come back here. Don't eat that, it's diaper cream! PHOEBE! STOP SPINNING. Go lay down! You have to take a nap because Mommy's tired. Why? Because I said so!"

Perhaps writing will be Mommy's time-out.
Maybe this WILL be good.
Time will tell ----- For now, I have to go. I hear the sounds of destruction as we speak.

K