Maybe it is my house, but my laundry breeds. I am not joking. One second there is NO laundry in the hamper and the next thing I know it is full and I have two loads to do. Sometimes I think that is all I do all day. Well, and wash dishes. I think it would be good to be a kid here. At my house. This is what they do while I waste away doing laundry. It looks rough doesn't it? He looks positively exhausted. Form his big morning of what? Pooping and nursing? Must have been eating his breakfast. And even though the Xan Man looks more like his mama (only took three tries), we still have proof that he is his father's son. Witness, the tongue hanging out of his face. Complete with spittle.

Got your attention? No, I do not have one. What I do have is a knack for making sugar cookies. And a love of decorating them. Mark told me some time ago to snap some pictures to keep around for "just in case." I try to remember to take some pictures of cookies I do. Who knows. Maybe one day Three Little Monkeys will be known. I will say that I am getting more adventurous. I can make cookies on a stick. I can make bite size cookies. These are about the size of a fifty cent piece or so. I can make cookies and put them in a hand painted box as a gift. I can make coffee cookies. Baby Shower cookies.... My newest venture is flavored icing. I need to gather some other flavored extracts. It makes sense that a coffee cookie would have a bit of a coffee taste. Or a bright yellow cookie taste a bit like lemon. Branching out....

My youngest boy turned seven months old last week. I took some photos that day of my little guy sleeping. I sat and watched him. Marveled at the sight of him. Sighed because he is growing too fast like they all do. My sleeping angel.... Sweet perfection.... Kissable feet.... Chubby fingers.... Xander has learned how to sit up big and proud as well. He gets the tongue thing from his father. I think he knows how adorable he is.... **Sigh** Pure love that boy. Pure love.

At times I wonder if I am the only one like this? It seems my mind "writes" all day long. I have on internal dialog going all the time. Perhaps I am odd. At the forefront of my mind is a simple thought. Why is it that we, usually women it seems, are so hard on ourselves and each other? Why is it that we seem to judge ourselves and other women so very often? Why is it that we can not be happy with who we are? How we look? What we have? What we do? Why is it never enough? Once again, this is possibly something that only I deal with and encounter. It took me some time to be content. Content with who I am. How I look. Being a mom. Staying at home. Being "just a mom". Years in fact passed that I always was looking for something else. Something more. Why, I now think, was being a mom not enough? These days I am old and tired. I have been at this gig for eight years now. I have done the newborn thing (three times), the terrible two's (twice so far),

I am now armed with more evidence on two things: my kids therapy and cloth diapering. The following pictures will not only cause Davis trauma later in life but they prove that cloth diapering can be cost effective. Davis is sporting a medium Fuzzi Bunz diaper. It also fits Alexander. Something tells me that they are not joking when they say most kids potty train out of mediums. Xander is also sporting cloth by the way of a fitted and wool cover. As if that were not enough, Emma and Davis decided then to play baby. Now we have Davis not only in a diaper but with a binky sitting in a doll stroller. Ah, kids. To finish off, I got the kids hair cut over the weekend. Oops. Went a little short on Davis. But it will grow back. Right? (I do not like it this short. He looks far too old.) Emma just got hers trimmed up. A lot.

It had to be done. Mark shoved me out the door last night. It was time he said. So I submitted. (insert laugh here) Sex and the City (the movie) came out on Friday. Most people know that. I watched the entire series, as it aired, on HBO. I found it fascinating, mostly I think because it was so far from what I knew. Thirty something women, looking for love, bonding over Cosmos, in NYC? Wearing fashions that cost as much as my car payment (or more)? Not in my realm of knowledge or experience here. I latched on. Once we got word of a movie, I knew I would have to see it. We go to the movies maybe once a year. I also was aware that taking Mark to this movie would be about as fun as passing kidney stones. I figured I would rent it one day. But last night, after spending our usual Sunday with mother and sister in law and stopping by Hell Mart for a window unit (air conditioner), Mark said, "You should go see that movie. By yourself. Go. " I admit I was taken abac