But we're here! We're living! We're exploring, we're almost crawling, we're saying "da da da da", we're eating all sorts of new foods, we're out there (Jerry) and we're loving every minute of it!
There are no bad days, only bad attitudes, I have determined. There could have been some bad days, some really bad, bad days. But there aren't. Or maybe they still are to someone else's eyes, but we're seeing the good, and savoring the sweet and snuggling as much as we can. Raise a glass to the post surgery world, friends. Because now I'm just a mom of three girls, running what is quickly becoming a sorority house filled with emotions and tutus.
I'm a platinum member of this all girls club, and no boys allowed, but dad.
(photo proof of these "NBDs"... "no bad days," clearly.)
Could have tried to take one where everyone was smiling, but that would be silly.
We just ate and Slim's so we're all feeling real good here.
Is 8 months the age when you adore their hands? The way they hold them? And that little chub roll at the wrist?
I think that is what you do at 8 months. Adore the hands.
These freeeeaking girls. When they're lined up, it's too much.
Avery "long legs" and Peanut "move water from cup to cup" Kostrzewa
Soon, young grasshopper.
Peanut is quite stunning lately, completely unbiased observation.
Gene Simmons fan club.
A whole library to explore, and the bigs grabbed books and sat here on their own.
But then I saw a photo opportunity, so I moved them.
I tried to get A & E to look up, but that wasn't happening.
Then big girl Ivy got to sit up front. It was the best.
Avery yelling, "from Target to Costco"
From that video... have you seen it!!! HERE
Some nights, before dinner, we head to the park and I walk the loop and Ken plays with the girls.
I finished the loop walking up to this. And you know what I said?
There are no bad days, friends.