Sort of

I love the residual effects of Chebbles' first year of "big girl" preschool. She has a fascination with outer space now. This is her drawing of something that is "sort of like a quasar." You know. Sort of.

In other news, Baby C is still stuffy as all get-out. And she's gassy too. It's just the nature of being an infant who emanates from our own gassy loins -- you spend the first few months of life just trying to fart. Sorry, girls.

Despite all this, Baby C is such a delicious human being, I can't get enough of her. Although she and I were up off-and-on all night dealing with her boogers and gas, I felt lucky when I woke up before any of my children this morning and spent the remaining few minutes just staring at Baby C. She is so beautiful.

And my mom is right, her hair does look like Napoleon. But it only makes her CUTER, and her head is so warm and fuzzy, it's eerily similar to the peaches that have just come ripe in our backyard.

As for Gigi, she's started talking -- sort of. She just blurts out these full sentences, "I want that balloon!" or "Mama, I can't get down!" except it sounds garbled and hurried, so I can't be sure that I've heard her correctly. It ends up sounding something like the famous Heathrow Airport prank.

OK, it's time to rescue Gigi from her crib tent. The power of the mighty zipper!