Pasta Pickups make my spleen hurt.

Abby, mid-thought.

The kids and I barely crossed paths today. I swooped into day care for their daily pickup - a consistently fun event - drove them home, played with them for a bit, then went to hang out at the Hustad's, where their son Byron showed me his trucks. They feature doors that open. Awesome. He also showed us his spider-man costume, which includes arms, legs, and a middle section, "...where the penis goes." I enjoy every moment as it comes, but things like that make me so excited for the girls to be 3 years old.

Since I spent barely an hour with the morons, it's hard to come up with any good copy tonight. No new pictures, these are all from earlier this week. We did experience some excitement this afternoon when Lily got knocked over by Jen's parents' dog Elly (feel free to notethat most of the people/animals in our house are Abby, Lily, Olly, Jenny, Elly, and Dave. I wish I ended in Y. Don't even mention Davey, I don't recognize it and will argue against its existence.) It was more my fault, though, because I was grappling playfully with Elly in an effort to try and get her to growl and bark at me. You see, we found out yesterday that when the dogs spar with each other, and hence begin barking, it puts Abby into fits of laughter. It's absurdly cute, and I need to try and get it on video. Tonight I was just trying to recreate that magic, and was having a bit of success; both the girls were laughing at Elly as the growling intensified. Then Elly took a quick and random juke (that dog is an unbelievable amount of Britany-Spaniel-esque potential energy) and sent Lily kinda flying; it was pretty impressive, she went a couple feet across the floor.

No injuries, but it did frighten her drastically, so there was some crying. She was back chasing Elly around in no time, which is a headache itself. When do kids know the boundaries of pet-grabbing and the negative repurcussions therein? I have no idea. Not soon enough. The pets would agree...our kids are masters of grabbing the dog or cat and yanking with all their tiny might.

Day seventeen.

Lily's last bottle, as placed in her last can of formula. I'm a huge fan of the Target brand formula, actually; we switched a while ago and loved it. Plus, we have the sweet satisfaction of buying local.

Jen watches while Lily does something smile-inducing.

Okay, a little bit about these little pillows of evilness. They are called "pasta pickups" raviolis. They are easy to make, the kids love them, they seem to be nutritious, and they smell like rhinocerous. I'm not sure if they're made from rhinocerous, but it's possible. They are so foul. But the girls think they're the cat's meow...which may be not far off, there could be some actual feline in this.

I tasted a bit of one once; it was like tasting hell. It was horrible. To watch Abs and Lils devour them, it's like watching zombies eat brains...terrible and watchable.