This photo, as well as the one of Elena and our new film crew friend Randy, were taken by Rosa, the sound gal from the film crew that came to our house last week. Our house is going to show up on Greenest Homes of the World/Earth/Universe on HGTV (why have I still not figured out the name of this show?) Anyway, this experience, as well as many other things, have prevented me from writing in a long time. And even as I'm writing this, I am thinking of all the people I have snubbed on email. Why am I blogging when I should be replying to them?
I dunno. I am just overwhelmed these days and there is so much I can't get to. So I try to make the best choices I can. Like feeding the children and occasionally cleaning up the dirty diapers.
However, in the hopes that at least my mom is still looking at this, I decided to do a short post so you could see the kids. Aren't they lovely and amazing? That is Glory with me and my dad at Gorditos last Sunday so 1, 2, 3. There they are.
And now a few short stories.
Bedtime. Glory is crawling around our bedroom in her sleep sack like Maggie Simpson. She runs into my foot, plants her forehead into the concrete floor and shrieks like a banshee. Manny stands over her, naked but for his diaper, with his hands on his hips. "Fire truck," he pronounces authoratively. This, in reference, to what happened after he split his forehead on a door back in October. He frequently talks about his experience, but this is the first time he recommended the fire truck come back. Glory is fine and we have not added another teddy bear from the Seattle Fire Department to our collection.
The girls will frequently be crawling, catch one another's eye, laugh simultaneously and race toward one another like they are playing chicken, infant style. They almost always butt heads and often cry as a result.
Macrina Bakery. One of my favorite haunts. I have Elena in the Ergo baby carrier, Glory in my left arm, I am doctoring my latte with my right arm and Manny has parked himself right between my legs. A guy labors to get by me and says, with a hint of annoyance, but without judgment, "You look like a tree." I want to give him an award for originality. I constantly am told, "You have your hands full!" which I have discovered is the universal first response when you see a woman with three small children. I only gotten "You look like a tree" once and I wanted to make sure I remember it.