Lord, Help Me!

This is what happens at our house between dinner and bath time. If only I had as much energy as Sam.....

Lesson in Thievery

The day began as any other: beautiful sunshine, early wake-up call from the kids, a walk to Muffin Mania, and baseball practice at 11. Brad and I went through the day dutifully, unaware of Sam's scheme. After our morning walk to our favorite muffin joint, we prepared ourselves for baseball practice.

Coach Genius had the kids do their requisite running. This time, they had to run to the far gate rather than around the bases (I love this man):


He then tranistioned them to Tee Ball Batting 101 and Sam got to practice:





Things started to get suspicious when Coach Genius and the boys had a "pow wow"...

You could tell some mischief was about to unfold and, sure enough, it did:




This gives "stealing bases" an entire other definition.



And this is why I love Coach Genius:

Bambino baseball = guaranteed nap.

Horsin' Around

On a daily basis, Sam finds time to torture/play with his sister. On most days, Isabella enjoys it. I would even say she "welcomes" it. Below is evidence:

First, we begin with Sam's habitual "to-close-to-her-face" shot but she doesn't seem to mind:


Next, we move into the "check-for-poop" shot. For some unknown reason, Sam thinks it is hilarious to do this:


We now begin the calesthenics....





And we end with a "special" move by Sam:

Be Forewarned

This shirt comes courtesy of Aunt Teri, the third lawyer in the family, and is Isabella's way of telling all the boys to "step back".

Baby Narcissist

...someone really loves themself very much:

"Just a Little Bit More to the Right"

Our little girl is growing too fast. Recently, she's started trying to roll over. Here she is, all smiles before her hard work begins....

Stage 1: Acquire roll over position....

Stage 2: Work really hard to move the gut....
So, clearly, she's got a long way to go. I mean, look at that belly! I think I'm going to cut out her midnight feeding....Isn't there some rule about not eating after 7:30 pm? I'm sure it applies in this situation.

Consumption Junkie

I've been asked why Isabella is lovingly called "Meatball" by Brad and I. It's because the child consumes not one or two, or even three or four, but SIX, count them, SIX bottles of breastmilk with six ounces each on a DAILY basis. That's 36 ounces of love from moi. If you can't picture what 36 ounces of breastmilk looks like, see below:

For those of you who may be thinking, "Holy cow, Cathy," or, "Hey Cathy, got milk?": I'd advise you to keep that thought to yourself or risk our friendship. All I know is there should be a medal or something for this kind of dedication on my part or, at the very least, a very good Mother's Day gift (wink, wink, Brad).