So, um, being a parent is really hard.

You have to figure out what is wrong when your babies cry. They don’t tell you a damned thing! It’s a constant “If you don’t know, I’m not telling you!” battle.

Pacifiers get lost all the time and the one your babies take will get lost the most.

Babies are heavy. They throw up.

Baby boys pee on you – a lot.

My heart feels like it is going to explode with love when I look at them.

I cannot believe I was chosen for this privilege.

I am in awe of their perfection and beauty.

Y1K has a dimple under his right eye. I’ve never seen such a thing before. He is brown. We dressed him in traditional clothing and my mom was calling him Aladdin.

Y2K has rolled over from his tummy to his back! He has piercing blue eyes. He is white.

I would have kids over and over again if I weren’t old.

And, if being pregnant wasn’t the scariest thing in the world.

And, if the thought of not being able to get pregnant again wasn’t the scariest thing in the world.

Wouldn’t it be nice to just say “Gee, I’d like more kids”?

I mean, we can say it, but it doesn’t mean anything.

Our babies are amazing. They are miracles. They were worth every injection, every anxious moment. Every excess pound that won’t go away. They are worth my career and my old life.

I love the pee and the throw up and the lost binkys.

I suck at blogging. I really do. But my babies butts are warm and dry.