The straight poop on kids and planes.

We got a visit today from Grandma Marj and Jen's Aunt Nancy from Seattle. Yay! Too bad Abby got something in her contact lens.

Here are a few thing about last night's plane ride:

A plane ride with toddlers is shitty. At the very best, in the most opportune and spectacular circumstances, it can only be crappy. At best. You start at shitty, and go downhill from there. The first half of last night's flight, girls A and B were in pretty high spirits and it was all mostly okay. But even then, as we sat there and did whatever while the girls fidgeted and played with their toys, I couldn't help but constantly dwell on the fact that I'd rather be pretty much anywhere else with my kids than vacuum-packed into a 3 square foot area 38,000 feet over Tennessee. There is no real joy in air travel with kids....you can only hope to survive it, and count your lucky stars that your kids don't dump a glass of cranberry juice on the people in front of you (that didn't happen to us, I'm just sayin').

Around the midway point, things started to unravel. Lily showed crystal clear signs that she was exhausted, but refused at every step to just lay her head on our shoulders and sleep. She chose, instead, to thrash around in a well thought out plan to tell the world her level of discomfort. Abby wasn't quite so bad at first, but she had a major meltdown just prior to descent. After a good five minutes of screeching, I bounced her on my arm up and down the aisle, and finally she rammed her head into my neck and fell graciously asleep.

Lily spent the last third of the flight kicking the seat ahead of her (little tip: don't put your seat back when you sit in front of lap children. I know it's your right as a passenger and all, but really, it does no one any favors, including yourself), she yelled at the window, she wiggled and writhed, and was alternately furious and giddy at the whole state of affairs.

When the beastly 737 finally touched down at 1130, we were ready to be done. I hate that last part of the trip, though, when you only want to collapse into bed, but there's the unpacking of necessities and milk and jammies and all those mechanics of life that need tending to. It is infinitely tiring, this living business.

One cool part of the flight: Lily became slightly interested in the seat reclining button on the armrest before we even left the gate. She barely gave it much of a passing glance, really. From then on, though, whenever there was a chime over the speakers, she would stop what she was doing, turn to the armrest, and push the button. How freaking strange is that!? It made no sense; I still can't figure out what logic there is behind it. There must have been a dozen chimes that made her turn and push the button. Random and cute.

In one of my finer moments, I was standing for a bit during the flight, stretching my legs and leaning my head on the overhead bin. I was half asleep, glassy and groggy. I wasn't really paying attention to anything, enjoying my zoning out, when I realized that I was essentially staring at the woman one row behind us who was breastfeeding her baby. Who's the jerk? Me.

Day three hundred and seventeen.

Chris, this toy is awesome and cool and our kids seriously love it. They've been fighting over it. And to be honest, I rather enjoy it as well...it's like a Zen rock garden, very soothing to just sit and twirl. So, thanks!

Also, I liked your Bobcat embryo joke, and I'm not just saying that because you're giving us sausage tomorrow.

Lucky us, we didn't even BRING Pringles.

Tracey and Lucy (doing jazz hands?? A-cha cha!)

Tonight, we wing our way back northward to the much-snowed-upon land of Minnesota, so I'm doing a mid-day pre-departure bloggity entry.

Papa, Tracey and Mark, in a fit of extreme graciousness, stuck home today to watch our girls while Jen and I had some alone time. We spent our time prowling the mean streets of Sanibel, eager for a cup of coffee (we found one), then went to the "Ding" Darling Wildlife Preserve, which is the best name for a preserve EVER. It was a nice if not markedly uneventful stroll through the island estuary. We had a good time, and talked like adults for a bit. We saw a very lovely blue heron. And a big spider. Nothing larger than that, save some other tourists.

Then lunch, and now I feel like a nap. I might need my energy later, so a nap might be something I acquiesce to. Tonight we'll be back home to find out if we've been ticketed for not shovelling our walk, for not shovelling out our trash can, or for our car sticking out into the alley. Or the cat might be dead. Despite all this, I'm excited to be back in the cold and the snow. How silly is that?

Day three hundred and sixteen.

ps. to Lori's comment from a couple days ago: whatever! You guys are going to be down here in a few weeks, so I hardly feel bad for you. Jen and I scoped out Captiva, including where you guys are staying, and I am definitely the one who's bitter. It's a very cool spot.

A red mangrove (I think it's red) sprouting out of the estuary.

Jen reading the Great Ding Darling Map of Useless Information

First rule of Florida nature: Never feed Pringles to an alligator while trapped in the belly of an even larger alligator. This will cost you $502 ($500 fine, plus they confiscate your Pringles)

My kid = meow mix

Enthusiastic credit to my niece Maya for this photo.

Today's family activity: Florida Wildlife Zoo Place! (not the real name...I actually forgot the real name of the place) A couple steps above your normal roadside attraction, they had a hodgepodge of alligators and crocodiles (or Abbygators and Crocolilies), with a variety of snakes and panthers and other wildlife to boot. It was a fun little trip. Untrue to my form, I won't bore you with all the details, save one.

Our group had just passed the panther pen, where we all had looked in on the large cats napping in various positions of leisure. Abby and I were bringing up the rear, and when we came by the pen, a hellish cat creature appeared out of nowhere, utterly silent, and started pacing the enclosure, eyes steely, fixed, unblinking on my blonde hors d'oeuvre of a daughter. There was no doubt that this animal was stalking my kid...it might as well have had a bib around its neck and a spork in its paw. It was like seeikng an old person in front of an Old Country Buffet at 4 pm. Scary hungry.

In hilarious and very chilling juxtaposition, Abby continued toddling around the walk, picking up dead leaves and babbling contentedly to herself while this instrument of certain death paced just a few feet from her. It was truly kind of unsettling and really, really funny at the same time. Odd combo. As far as I know, Abby never even saw the panther.

Sorry I didn't get a photo, my camera was ungettable at the time; it would have been a fantastic shot.

Day three hundred and fifteen.

What's a roadside wildlife attraction without some Embryos of Bobcat? I think I've got the name of my rock band.

Jen, Grace, Mark, Tracey, Lucy, and Steve. Not pictured: our kids, who we'd already tossed into the pen for "croc petting time".

Papa watching the kids.

Abby stole Mommy's hat. Forgivable, given the cuteness factor.

Our girls have met the ocean.

Today, we tackled the ocean, quite literally. After dipping Abby in the breaking waves, she started running towards the water and quite literally tried to throw herself into the surf. She seemed very taken with the sea, despite the cold and despite the fact that a loud sneeze will startle her to tears. This largest and most impressive of Earth's wonders somehow made her want to run into it with open arms. Good monkey. Maybe we have a surfer girl on our hands. Jen and I both had that thought as we looked at her, all blonde hair and salty face.

I honestly had a hard time keeping her safe in the water, because I would put her down standing in the shallow surf, and she would sprint out into the breaking waves, and her tiny little chicken legs are just not strong enough to resist the push and pull of the sea. She lost her balance more than a few times, but I managed to catch her at every chance.

Lily did okay in the water, but was a little more recalcitrant to the Atlantic's briny call. On the whole, the trip went smoothly with no major meltdowns or too much sand in the crotch areas (although there was some chaffing. I'm talking about the girls here).

Day three hundred and fourteen.

Lily finding something of vast importance.

Jen and Lily.

There she goes! Notice I've positioned myself strategically between her and 41 million square miles of saltwater.

I heart tonguefish.

Tracey and Lucy, aka The Luce. Jen took this photo...I liked it.

Dad/Papa fearlessly offered to stay home with the twins today while the rest of us went on a little 3 hour boat tour. It was a fun event, and nice to get away from the girls for just a bit. The tour let us off on Picnic Island, and all us tourists piled out and set about catching small marine life with nets. There wasn't much to be found, but I was still fairly excited to come up with the occasional tonguefish, a mini-flounder type waif of a fish. They're very flappy, although they don't taste very much like tongue at all. Way too salty.

It was right chilly during the ride out there, and I wasn't exactly tearing off my shirt to get into the water, but it was surprising how quickly 68 degree water and I decided to get along. I was struck by the oddity of being in nothing but sandals and swim trunks, rather comfortable in the water, while the non-swimming contingency of the tour were bundled up on the beach like a patagonian expedition.

The rest of the day passed as all the others have, simply doing nothing specific while being with family. In other words...a holiday.

Day three hundred and thirteen.

Pelican thinking thoughts only a pelican could understand. Photo credits to Steve on this one.

Jen and I. This was all me.

Tracey and Jen on Picnic Island.

Oliver and I discussing boat horsepower. We agreed that more is better.

Merry Christmas, all!

Stone crabs and Corona...Christmastime indeed!

Pint sized snacker

Aunt Joy showing the morons how to work a toy cell phone, which they loved.

She's taking calls!

Looking for some quiet for an important call.

'Twas the night before Christmas...

It's Christmastime! Cram your hole full of happiness and frosting, why dontcha?

What sort of tropical hijinks transpire on a Floridian Christmas Eve, my Minnesotan brothers and sisters might be wondering? Let me tell you.

- Instead of sledding, you and the family take the kids to the pool. There's no snow anywhere! And people wear bathing suits! The girls loved the swimming, as they always do. Abby even went in the hot tub - it wasn't really that hot - although Lily wasn't a huge fan.

- You see salamanders! Very rare in MN this time of year. We saw a few outside my Dad's house. They thought they were pretty funny, but when I tried to catch one, I think they were a little confused. So were the salamanders.

- We did crafts! Thanks to Aunt Tracey being on the ball (she is so far on she's off again), we made reindeer food. You may not be aware, but a reindeer's primary diet consists of Quaker oats and glitter, mixed in a paper bowl, and strewn across the lawn.

After that, we made some Christmas cookies. Lily didn't seem to grasp the idea, and spent a goodly portion of the time eating the frosting, one fingertip's worth at a time. Abby did a bit better (probably because Jen was helping her and I was helping Lily), and mixed up some really noxious looking frosting mix. She dug it, though.

- We ran around the neighborhood in bare feet. Again, not normally something to attempt in Minnesota.

And after all that, you eat a crapload of food and stay up too late, then play a game of Sorry where you find out that your brother is a vengeful bastard with a large, seething pit of spite in his soul. Just kidding. Not really. Listen, I play Sorry to win. I lost of course, but Jen won, and she won gracefully.

In Minnesota, a crapload of Grater's ice cream certainly wouldn't be as awesome, but luckily we're in Florida, and our Aunt Betty and Uncle Jerry rule so much that they sent us about a hundred pints of said ice cream. Thanks, Cincinnati relatives!

Santa is on his way, as I write this. Exciting! Tomorrow, the anarchy of Christmas is on.

Day three hundred and Christmas Eve

Grace throws out fistfulls of reindeer food for Donner, Vixen, Blitzen...and all those other yahoos.

Lily doles out reindeer food sparingly. Give it up, L...those guys are hungry.

There ya go.

Aaaaairrplane!!!

Hello, Florida! We've navigated the various torments that were laid out for us today, and we can now bask in the glow of Fort Myers's awesome moonlight. It'll be much more worth it tomorrow when the sun is out.

All in all, the day went fairly well. Let's just pick up right about where we were showing up at the airport....

Sun Country does offer curbside check-in, and we decided this was a service we wanted to pounce on. After trying to pull to the curb (a lovely woman decided not to pull up and allow me access, despite having plenty of room), we got all the bags out, all the kids out, all the everything out, and I left Jen in line to cast our lot with those mysterious skycap folk to go park the car. By the time I made it back, Jen had checked in (she's speedy), but they couldn't get us three seats together...two were together, and the other one was across the aisle. I was pretty livid, since they don't let you check in online when you have kids. So, for those of us (parents) that desperately need (nay, REQUIRE) our seats to be together, we're the ones that can't take advantage of the online check in and seat selection. Bravo, airlines.

The security line was brutal, especially by Humphrey standards. Almost 45 minutes to navigate the snakey line of people, who seemed to be largely cheerful and in the proper holiday spirit. Comments were exchanged...people told us the girls were cute (and they were, sitting placidly in their stroller, content to only view the spectacle of air travel). Even the two people who tried to cut in front of us were rather happy, if not uber-ditzy. I've passed much worse lengths of time.

When the moment was upon us and it was our turn to pass through the steely jaws of homeland security, the girls remained in good spirit, but it is anarchy with all that stuff and the kids. Anarchy, I say and repeat for effect. We had a total of 4 bags, 2 kids, and a stroller, plus the ubiquitous bin of shoes and wallets and assorted castaway items not befitting a proper tour through the metal detector. It's a whirlwind, getting the kids out, taking their shoes off (oh yes, for those non-parental types and those not in the know, 22 month olds must have their shoes removed). This proved to be a near disaster, because Lily, freshly arrived in a phase where she likes to be in charge of her own destiny (it's called free will, I believe), does not like anyone removing and/or adding footwear without her consent. She almost lost it there, but didn't. In the end, the whole transit was relatively minor and easy. The girls suffered it well.

Inside the secure area, we headed for the playground right across from our gate. Yay, Humphrey has playgrounds! Hooray! It's a beautiful thing! Except when your flight is leaving and you have to tear one of your kids away from it! Boo for playgrounds! It was Lily, and she freaking LOST IT. She was in an outright panic, and so the trip onto the jetway, down the jetway, onto the airplane, and into the carry on baggage space under the seat in front of me where she eventually collapsed, it was all a nightmare. She was thrashing and biting and hitting and fighting me every single second, and with every part of her being. I think I had an out of body experience at some point during it all.

I left her on the floor of the aircraft, where doubtless numbers of passengers have vomited in flights past, and she thrashed about in abject anger. After about 10 minutes, while those passengers walking aftward eyed us with suspicion and relief that they were seated away from us, she began to only cry normally. Then barely at all. Then she recognized that her shoe was off. I asked her if she wanted a lollipop and for me to put her shoe back on. She happily replied in the affirmative, and she was totally fine for the rest of the flight.

I had Lily on my lap by the window when we got deiced. That was fun. She was a little scared because the truck was right next to our window, and it's a little scary, but when they started shooting out the Type 1, she thought it was all a hoot.

Abby was mostly good as well, the coy little monkey. Her biggest flaw was a constant fidgetiness that could not be assuaged at times. She would usually be okay, or we could entertain her for the most part, but a couple times she just really would not be happy. Also, she does not like turbulence, and is not a fan of anything abrupt or noisy. When they threw the first notch of flaps in during the arrival, she just about pooped her pants. Actually, she might have, since I smelled something terrible not long after that. She cried, and everything after that kinda freaked her out a bit. They used the speedbrakes once, and that makes the plane kinda drop a bit - especially if you throw them all in quickly - and I think she thought that was the end. Poor monkey.

Reunited with the Gels side once more, they seem to be quite happy. As are we. It's nice to be here, and we're hoping for a lovely holiday. No more playgrounds.

No pictures today, sorry. I'll be better tomorrow.

Day three hundred and ten.

ps. Lori, you did win, it was Abby's finger in the outlet that I was talking about. Although many other interesting points were raised. While I'd like to award you some credit for that, you've also tried to blackmail me recently with the withholding of treats, which is pretty harsh. That was made public at work, so now I'm getting a lot of pressure from coworkers to continue. Thanks! Now I'm the bad guy!

Packing is hard.

A right presidential picture of El Gato.

It's almost 11. There is still so very much to do for the trip tomorrow, but I have faith it will all just happen. By "faith", I mean "Jen". The right tactical move, spousally speaking, is for me to draw this blog entry out as long as feasible, minimizing my packing efforts.

Tactics might also suggest that I not publicize these tactics, as I've already done. Bah. I'll just be quick, then.

Tomorrow, 3:50 we shall depart for Fort Myers (or RSW for those of the aviation ilk). I'm still stressed about it, but my Dad gave me some good advice. He pointed out that the kids will pick up on our moods and act appropriately, so I should really just relax and remember that it's a vacation and it's their first flight - a momentous event! - so I should simply let it all unfold as it will, and the morons will hopefully be positive as well. Words to live by.

Jon and Suze had us all over tonight for the Stalker-side Christmas, which was fun but far too brief, as it always tends to be. Suze made an enormous amount of food, which was all the more impressive when we found out that Jon had actually stopped her from making more. Brevitous as the visit turned out to be, it was still nice to see them and the Lukasewyczes, in town from Seattle.

Off to pack. And shovel my driveway. And 1,000 things we need to do.

Day three hundred and nine.

Uncle Steve taking a shot of Kyla.

85 BlogPoints for the first person to notice what is horribly wrong (and frankly quite funny) about this photo.

Uncle Jon doing dishes with flair

Coyness.

I pass this tree every day on my way home. I like it.

This photo is explained below.

For the first time in a while, the girls had a flawless morning ritual. I don't think there was a raised voice or unhappy eye in the house, except for one brief moment where Lily unintentionally roundhouse kicked Abby in the face. And to be honest, I don't entirely believe it was unintentional, but my life is going to be a lot easier believing it was, so that's what I'm going with.

No tantrums today; no irrational needs or demands; nothing unsettling. It was idyllic. This stands in stark contrast to the past couple weeks. Abby especially has been rather crankified while dealing with her cold, but she's just about done with it. Hurrah! Just in time to stick them on an airplane.

Our neighbors Jeff and Esther came over post-work to hang out and deliver two absurdly cute handknit winter hats for the girls. They caught the Lily in a weird mood - I'd just had to defuse her from a little snit - and in an unprecedented move, she would not leave the kitchen to see them. I've never seen her so shy before. She was pretty much rooted to that spot in the photo above, looking sternly our way. She is starting to hit that stage, though, where she digs her heels in on any issue, so when we started trying to coax her into the dining room, it only fortified her anti-social stance. Abby was her typical self: she buried her face into Jen's neck and peeked out coyly, which is pretty normal for her.

Later on, I found myself in Richfield for the first night of pick up hockey for the year. I skated around a lot and now I am very sore.

Thank you again Jeff and Esther for the hats, they are fantastic!

Day three hundred and eight.

Abs in high def!

Lily in high def as well!

Leaving the house...overrated.

Coloring and spitting like a camel.

So I'm Facebook friends with one of the people that works at our daycare. She's great, I like her a lot. Her last status, however, mentioned something about "Mondays are rotten at work". I'm not sure how to feel about that. Is it my kids? Are my kids rotten on Mondays? I have to wonder.

We almost spent the entire day indoors today, it was very close, but at the last minute Lily seemed to get it in her head that we should go for a car ride, so go for a ride we did. Our reasoning for avoiding the out of doors was completely pragmatic: we were absolutely not going to the malls, there's no where else to take our kids, and we didn't want to risk exacerbating their illnesses (both are clinging to a nasty cough) by heading out for snow-based frivolity. Getting them sick two days before their first plane trip would be the pinnacle of dunderheadedness on our part.

But that's okay, because there is great fun to having a day inside. We could have kept them in their jammies all day, if not for the 2 cups of milk and half a banana Abby smeared on herself. The new kitchen set from Grandma and Grandpa got a whole lot of mileage.

Sometime around 5:15, Lily pointed at the door and said, "Car." This was repeated often and in ever increasing urgencies, until finally we got the point that the kid must have a little cabin fever. So we got them dressed and drove around the neighborhood looking at Christmas lights. "OOoohh!!" we said. They responded in kind. I think they had a good time.

Three days left before their very first plane ride! We're both nervous. Abby is in this interesting phase right now where she has a tantrum for nothing at all, and she is inconsolable during them. There is a collective, familial holding of the breath right now. We'll see what Wednesday brings.

Day three hundred and seven.

Abby still likes to draw on her hands.

Late night.

Grandpa came by today to drop off the girls' Christmas gift....a brand new kitchen playset!! It's pretty awesome, actually; it makes boiling/sizzling noises when you put pans on it.

It's quarter to one, and we've just returned from my company's holiday party. I consider it an amazing perk to be in a position that I get to have a holiday party. We did a bit of bowling, had some drinks, and played laser tag...laser tag! How awesome is that? I think it's important for the girls to know that their parents ditched them tonight so that we could play laser tag. For the record, when we were starting the game I asked Jen if we should be on opposite teams or the same team. She said, "Same team!" Aww. She likes me. She could never shoot me.

We definitely had a good time, it was a fun night. I, however, bowled my worst game ever; it was somewhere in the 80's. Just miserable.

The girls were left in the fantastically generous hands of Jen, a fellow MBAite from the Carlson School, who is awesome with our kids. Thanks Jen!

That's it. We're off to bed, so I can get up in 5 hours and chase the morons around the house again.

Day three hundred and six

Lily learning to "cook".

5 illnesses and counting

Wistfully Abby

I don't know what to say here tonight; one of those days where nothing fantastic or monumental occurred. Just a random day at work and with the family...why do I feel terrible for saying that?

Jen is busy. Fresh from the frantic world of MBAhood, she's now frantically getting us ready for our trip to Ft. Myers. She never gets a break.

I'm busy fighting off my 5th illness of the year. Hooray for parenthood! I couldn't help it, I need to try and comfort those kids when they start hacking up a lung...is it my fault I probably give them some careless kisses that just very well might mean I get some of their icky snot on my lips? It'd be ridiculous for me to think I won't get sick when they are. I can't really act surprised. But really....5 times? I feel miserable. When does this end?

I'll have no respite this weekend, as it's the last push of commercialism and lunacy before Christmas. What we have to do, it must get done in the next couple days. Somewhere in there must be a Powderhorn 365 photo and my company Christmas party and probably something else I've forgotten.

Day three hundred and five.

Goofily Lily

Sentences and subterfuge

My vanity shot for the month. Playing hockey with the Aerosim peeps over lunch.

Not pictured: the puck, which I'm about to stick right in the net.

Photo credit to Andy Moon - photographer extraordinaire

Lily had another milestone today: her first complete sentence. She has already paired up a bunch of words to convey some complex thoughts, such as:

"All done milk" - This means she's all done with her milk
"Bye bye pooch" - Said when wishing the dog adieu
and "Help poopy" - Means we should flee the area

...but these are hardly grammatically correct sentences. Okay, that's a lie; "Bye bye pooch" is technically a complete sentence (I think), but she presents it in a very neanderthalic way, so as to give the impression of it being a fragment.

Tonight we were playing underneath our Minnesota Wild blanket, which is well known to feature a few holes. Lily was peeping out of just such a hole when she said, "I see Abby." Is that a miracle or what!? Who's got two thumbs and is a genius? Lily. I know that didn't make sense, but it's true - she does have two thumbs.

---

You never know sometimes what is going to get kids to be happy, or what desperate, panic-led flailings will haul your kid from the precipice that is "the cranky mood". Towards the end of dinner tonight, we told them it was bath time. Jen took Abby's socks off, and she was okay with it. I took Lily's socks off, and it was instant pandemonium. Thinking quickly, we both started waving the socks above our heads frantically and danced around.

This actually worked. It's amazing, the power of redirection on these kids. It's a fundamental skill to parenting. It is utterly necessary when trying to wrest something from the girls clutches (tube of ointment, cell phone, live grenade). And it never needs to be anything more sophisticated than us yelling, "Hey, hey Abby, LOOK OVER THERE! WOW! IS THAT A FRAMED PICTURE ON THE WALL???" during which we snatch away the contraband item. Normally, it works and they don't notice. Sometimes they do notice, and we pay the price. But it's better than not trying.

A side benefit of this is the feeling of sleazy pride when it works, like you're a little happy that you were just able to fool your kid. I notice this the most when I managed to get Lily's pacifier. She always notices its absence, but if I'm deft enough and nimble enough to abscond the thing into a hidden location, I get to watch her search for it for a few panicky moments. Then she always gets distracted, and learns to live without it.

Tricking kids...necessary AND fun.

Day three hundred and four.

Oh, my, gawd, this is totally my towel, can you believe it?

"Back back back back" (She had put the stool back in it's "normal" spot)

Invert-O-Abby

Cough hack.

Lily the plumber.

Reason #109 that I'm glad this blog is going to expire soon: I've already fallen asleep on the couch, and Jen's had to roust me in order for me to drag my bleary self to the computer so I can write this.

I think I'm suffering a sleep deficit.

Despite the nagging persistence of a cough and general phlegminess, we packed up both kids today and hauled them in to day care ("Naaay caaaaare!" -Lily). I felt okay with it, since I got a pretty accurate temp from Abby of 98 degrees. You might be tempted to ask how I know it's accurate; I would be tempted to tell you that you really don't want to know.

It's brutal hearing those kids cough. Abby sounds startlingly like Gollum from Lord of the Rings, and it makes the hairs on my neck leap to attention. It's especially bad when she gets worked up, starts crying, that leads to coughing, and in just a few seconds it seems like she can barely breath with how hard she's hacking and bawling. She did this the other morning, and it took us a good 5 minutes of ineffectual soothing before we realized that she just wanted water. She is so hard headed about not using words, it's maddening.

Lily's cough seems to have less bite to it, yet it's no less pleasant to hear. I'm going to be forbidding these kids from getting sick from now on.

Esther, I will try and give you some kid head measurements. Can I just throw open the window shade and hold up my hands in an approximation of their head size and you can look over? No, no...I'll measure. They haven't been to the doctor in a while, so their stats are out of date.

Day three hundred and three.

I think I already posted this one. Lily snuggling with book.

Abs drawing.

Abs pretending to eat peas. Trust me, she's not eating them.