Photo Tagged

I was tagged by my friend Kathy. Basically, here is what I have to do: Go to my fourth photo folder (say that fast four times!) and post the fourth picture.

I have two photo folders, one since Annie was born, and one before. So I did it with both.

This is me in February of 2006, while pregnant with Annie.

This was Annie back in (interestingly enough) February of this year, when she was sick with pneumonia, putting stickers all over her face.

Anyone who wants to play, consider yourself tagged!

Googled

Since my blog is public, I get some random traffic from people's google searches gone amiss. My favorites from the last week or so:

Query:
two year old talking all night
(That doesn't even really surprise me that search would lead them to my site . . . it's like google knows Annie!)
What they got:
2008/09/talkin-two-year-old.html

Query:
thank you, no you are welcome
What they got:
2008/09/please-thank-you-and-youre-welcome.html

Query:
information on hilary's happiest moments.
(That's just touching that they're interested in my happiest moments! The people in the UK are so sweet like that!)
What they got:
http://hilarysrandomthoughts.blogspot.com/

Query:
name that means slow
What they got:
2008/09/yellow-light-means-slow-down.html

I always wonder how disappointed people are when they're looking for useful, or random, info and they stumble across my site instead of something that actually answers their questions. Oh well, at least I'm not getting any more Shannen Doherty searches!

Annie-ism

Driving home from Sunday dinner at Greg's parents house, we were nearing our neighborhood so Greg changed into the right lane. Annie piped up, "We are almost home, so we have to change aisles!" "That's right Annie, we're almost to our neighborhood, so Daddy changed lanes," I said, subtly correcting the term. "Yep," she said, "we had to change aisles . . . oh look, now we're on the aisle that goes to our house!"

Dancing Queen

One of my oldest and dearest friends, Jessi, got married tonight. Everything was perfect, beautiful and so much fun. When we finally left, over an hour after our girls' bedtimes, there was a huge part of me that was like, "Hon, why don't you just take Ellie home and get her to bed . . . I'm sure Annie and I can catch a ride home with someone." In fact, when coming home from the reception up at Fort Douglas, we accidentally ended up heading back to downtown on Northbound I-15 . . . I told Greg I was pretty sure it was God's way of telling us to go back to the party. Greg was pretty sure the hysterical shrieking of an overly tired five month old triumphed a missed exit. Party pooper.

Annie had the time of her life. She talked non-stop on the way home about the 'party', the 'dancing', and the 'yummy bread.' (Jessi's super talented and equally sweet Nana made everyone small loaves of incredible breads, and Annie ate almost her entire loaf in lieu of the food served at the reception.) The greatest part was the dancing. Annie danced every single song while we were there, and would happily dance with whomever wanted to dance with her; or would just turn, jerk and hop in the middle of the dance floor all by herself. People were cracking up. And, as is typical when Annie's at her cutest, everyone (complete strangers to us) were snapping pictures of our little dancing queen. At one point Jessi was sitting a rare song out, and Annie ran up to her, grabbed her finger, and dragged her back onto the dance floor. On the way home, Annie was talking about all the fun she had, and was saying, "Jessi didn't dance." "Annie, Jessi danced the whole time, what are you talking about?" "Nope, she was talking, not dancing, so I went and got her and made her dance, and then she danced and not talked." Good thing someone was there to keep the bride on task. As we were leaving, Annie was waving enthusiastically to everyone, calling out, "Bye! Bye everyone! Thanks for having a party and for dancing! Thanks for the bread! Mom, did you remember the rest of my bread? Bye! Thank you for the party!"
Anyway, it was so much fun, and we took (of course) dozens and dozens of pictures, and here are some of my favorites.

This is the general state of Annie's elated-ness at the wedding reception.


The girls and I outside the Fort Douglas Chapel.


Ellie being fairly fussy. This kept up through the whole actual wedding, so Greg was sweet enough to take the crying baby and the stir-crazy toddler outside during the actual ceremony so I could stay in the chapel.


Annie was a big fan of her first open-bar wedding reception.


My girls and me with the beautiful bride.


Annie & Jessi during the dinner.


Annie with the mother of the bride.
This just fuels her ever increasing desire for grandkids.


Also a big fan of the toasts.
The next picture we took was of my skirt, soaking wet as most of this Martinelli's cider ended up all over my lap.


Ellie being pretty chill considering we've had her out for hours and hours without a decent nap.


Annie dancing with the groom.


Getting her groove on.


Daddy/daughter dancin'.


This just about melts my heart!


More grooving.


This kid gets into it.
Everyone was having a blast dancing with Annie, and she really got into trying to mimic others dancing, including the twist, disco moves and all manner of kicks and twirls.


Yet another of my children fueling the grandchildren desire.
Ellie hung out with Jessi's Mom & Aunts for awhile so Greg and I could rock out with Annie on the dance floor (and I could actually dance with my husband).


Doesn't this kid just look thrilled to be dancing?!


I'm seriously thinking we need to dance a lot more at our house. And if anyone's having a dance party, make sure we're invited!

And Jessi, Dalan and Piper (their pet dog, who possibly doesn't know she's a dog) . . . Congratulations!
(When I told Annie we were going to Jessi & Dalan's wedding, she said excitedly, "Oh, the people who live with Piper!")

Little Chatterbox

Annie is quite the phone conversationalist, yesterday she was calling as many people as she could think of, leaving messages on their voicemail. The messages went something like this, "Hi Tody. It's me, Annie. How are you? [pause] I'm good. [pause] Yeah, that's weird. [pause] I non't know. [pause] OK, sounds good. Talk to you later! Love you. Bye!"

My favorite was when she actually got ahold of Aunt Star. "Hi Star! It's me, Annie. What are you doing? [Star saying she was watching something on TV] Oh, that's cool. I am not watching PBS Kids on TV right now. OK, well I'm done. I'm going to call other people. Love you, bye!" And when I was on the phone with my sister Talina, Annie was in the background yelling, "Say goodbye Aunt Nina! Say goodbye Nina! Mom, say goodbye Nina, I want to call other people! Say goodbye Nina!!" It's apparently all about quantity, not quality with this kid.

Walking the Block

Our outside weather days are quickly coming to the end, so today we went on not just one, but two, walks around the neighborhood. The girls love to be outdoors, and I still have some pesky baby weight to lose, so it seemed like a good idea. The first one was after lunch, and with Annie pushing her own baby dolls in a stroller, it took just over an hour. Then, after Greg headed into work this evening (stupid night shifts), we got all packed up and went for our second walk. Annie takes longer than any other child on the face of the planet possibly could. She pointed out each tree, plant, bird, plane, flower and car to her baby dolls. She often ran the stroller onto the grass or into bushes (on purpose) and took several minutes to 'dislodge' stroller & crew. Several neighbors smiled and laughed as they sat on their front porches, watching as we took several minutes to pass their home. So much for any kind of exercise . . . I'm pretty sure the pace was barely enough to keep my muscles from atrophying. But, we were having fun, and Annie was outdoors and getting some exercise after a rare day where I could barely talk her into anything more active than a heated game of Candy Land.

After awhile (quite awhile), we were at that part of our walking route that is like the 'point of no return'. Basically, we're no closer to home going back the way we came than if we keep going on our original route. This is of course where Annie chooses to lose it, and insist on being carried. I have her on my hip, Ellie in a front carrier, and I'm carrying her stroller, baby doll carrier, and two baby dolls in my other hand. After a little bit, I realize this isn't working for us, so I throw Annie up onto my shoulders (narrowly missing Ellie's face with Annie's shoes), clutch both her feet in one hand and carry the stroller and stuff in my other hand. After about five houses of this, I look down in the stroller and realize, "I don't see Moo Moo. Do you have Moo Moo up there Annie?" Nope, of course not. Turning around, I see a far away little white and blue pile of plush. Crap. We hoof it all the way back, then of course to be able to pick up the doll, I have to put Annie back down on ground. Pick up Moo Moo. Get Annie back up onto my shoulders. Pick up the stroller and stuff. And get going again. Past those same five houses. I looked like a pack mule.

I can't remember what Annie asked me to change about our arrangement, but I refused telling her, "Annie, this is already hard enough." To which she responded, "No it isn't Mommy. This is easy!"

The last four houses of our walk (which seemed like the longest stretch of road I've EVER seen), she decided to walk. Dragging her Utes sweatshirt behind her on the sidewalk. My "Annie, don't drag your jacket on the ground," was met by the high pitched whining of, "But I weally, weally want to dwag my wetshirt on the gwound!" What is it about whining that causes every word to have a whaaa sound in it? "Well, you can't. Pick it up or I'll carry it for you." She defiantly clutches it to her chest and sobs. Those sobs start to subside as we walk up our driveway. Annie takes the first of our front steps, only to biff it and land on her butt. Which causes her to LOSE it. Uncontrollable sobbing, as I'm trying to get her inside, but not being able to really pick her up and cuddle her, since Ellie's still strapped to my chest. I get the two of them inside, kick off my shoes and think to myself, "I am NEVER going outside again." I got Ellie out of the front carrier and gave her a kiss as I laid her down on my bed, to which Annie responds in a whine, "Non't kiss her! I the one who is cry!" (I've noticed Annie's grammar deteriorates rapidly as she gets more and more tired and grumpy.) As I take off the front carrier I realize I now have a huge red hickey looking thing on my neck where it was rubbing against my neck funny (probably when their was a thirty pound toddler sitting on it). It's dark outside now and it's been just over two hours since we originally left our house. To walk around the block. I probably didn't even burn half the calories I'll consume in ice cream tonight in trying to de-stress from the experience.

A still whimpering Annie says, "I want to watch Dora." That's cool with me, since I'm parenting solo tonight and I have Ellie to get ready for bed. Annie's laying on my bed, barely able to keep her eyes open, when Dora cries out, "Let's all march! Everyone stand up and march!" My nearly sleeping two year old throws off the covers and starts happily marching on my bed. Dora and I are gonna have words later. After Dora, Annie wants to read "Go, Dog, Go." A favorite of ours. But, of course, I'm not allowed to help at all, and she reads the entire thing to me (about 80% is word for word, some pages she improvises a bit, but don't even think about correcting her, that really pisses her off.) I realize, a little sadly, that my little bookworm isn't really much of a bookworm anymore. Most nights we can barely interest her in story time, and she insists on doing all the reading herself. I'm gonna have to try something new, maybe start trying to read more to her in the day, maybe during our new 'non-nap' time when she tends to be a little mellower (maybe, like in a fairy tale, she'll actually even fall asleep as I read to her. I've seen it on TV. It looks heartwarming. And quiet.) How do you guys with kids incorporate books? I was so convinced Annie would be all about the books, since we'd never get away with reading less than 20 a day up until she was about 2 years old, when she practically lost all interest in them.

Well, both girls are sleeping right now. Greg made some fantastic from-scratch caramel sauce earlier, so I'm gonna go dish me up some of that de-stress ice cream I was talking about. Good night!

Picture This

The realtor had a photographer come by to take pictures of our house before we put it on the market. (We're not actually 100% sure we're moving, with the crazy economy (don't tell Greg, but I'm totally watching financial news again. Down 300 points already today!) But, we feel like we should at least start the process and get a feel for the market.)

Anyway, the pictures, plus the panoramic shots/360 degree stuff are at www.obeo.com/503201 . . . I think they turned out pretty good. Let me know what you think? Would you buy our house? Do you want to? :-)

Happy Birthday

It's my father-in-law's birthday today!

Happy Birthday to an amazing grandpa, a wonderful father and a great example!

Give Me Some Credit

OK, so someone, who is much smarter than me, needs to explain credit to me. Well, credit scores to be exact. I don't get 'em.

We talk to a friendly mortgage loan officer, who happily tells us we can get 6.5% on a 30-year fixed loan. "You have good credit, right?" "Yeah, pretty good."

So, later that day, our credit scores are run, and I get a call, "We got your scores back! They're awesome! I wish all our our clients had credit like this, this is really amazing." "Well, thanks. So, what kind of interest rate do you think we can get with scores like this?" "6.5%."

So what good does having excellent credit really do me. I've heard it talked about in a way that I was almost kind of expecting a, "With scores like that, you can practically write your own ticket," kind of response. Lenders should be fighting over us. (They're not, every single one of them is offering pretty much the same rate, which is getting higher by the freaking hour. Stupid market.) I mean, they should possibly even be offering us some kind of slightly illicit bribe or something. Obviously if the scores had come back lousy, I'd expect a, "Um, we're looking at like an 8.5% rate now, and your first born." But you mean to tell me with scores well over 800 we don't get anything better than someone who has 'good' credit? That just seems wrong. It seems like in the current market they'd really want to loan money to people with a track record of paying on time.

Unless, of course I want a 5% rate, which they'll happily give me it if I want to sign up for an ARM loan . . . 'cause yeah, that seems to have worked out so well for our country right now! I can't even watch financial news anymore, Greg's pretty much forbidden it, since I call to him from the other room on a nearly bi-minute basis, "The Dow is down 565 points!" "Now it's down 620!" "Holy crap, it's down over 700!" "Hon, watch the girls, I'm going to the store to buy more food storage. Possibly some guns."

I Want My Breakfast!

Annie had been up for a little while this morning when she decided it was time to eat breakfast. She hopped off my bed and started running down the hall, yelling, "Come on Mommy, let's go!" I was following her, but heard Ellie fussing, and called to Annie, "Your sister is awake, I need to go get her." Annie responded, "Fine. Go get her and give her to Daddy, then come make my oatmeal!" Yes, ma'am.

After breakfast, we were getting Annie's baby dolls out of her crib, and after I handed her Moo Moo she said, "I need his blanket." I handed her a blanket from the crib, she looked at me with a look of pure disgust and said, "Not that one, he spit up all over it!" Of course.

Uncle Cody

My little brother Cody and Annie spend a LOT of time together. After school or during the summer, at least a couple times a week, Cody comes to our door and asks, "Can Annie play?" I love it. It is far and away one of the single greatest benefits of living so close to my parents. Anyway, one of the things they like to do is take lots and lots of pictures of themselves on the computer, in my Mac's "Photo Booth" program. Here's some of today's pictures.

Doesn't she just look like the perfect little sidekick to her Uncle, who she obviously adores?

I really liked this next one, 'cause Cody said, "OK Annie, this time show no emotion." And she really did 'emotionless' well. I wouldn't have even thought she knew what that meant.

I had to sneak in on one.

She can be just like Uncle Cody.

Later Aunt Talina came over and had dinner with us. She got a big kick hearing about a phone conversation Annie'd had earlier with Aunt Lacy. I, of course, was only privy to one side . . . but this is what I heard, "No. Aunt Nina a genius. No, Lacy, Aunt Nina a genius. No, Nina a genius. NO, Aunt Nina a genius. No, Lacy, Nina a genius." Talina approved of the general tone and theme of their conversation.
Annie, Talina and I were singing disco songs after dinner, and Annie was dancing around the frontroom, but soon tired of being the only one doing so. She ran up to me and grabbed my hand, dragging me towards her, "Come on Mommy, get up and shake your booty with me!" How can you turn down an invitation like that?

Just Say No

If we come to your door, offering up some yummy Peanut Butter Oatmeal Cookies (my favorite), slam the door and do NOT accept the cookies. Annie, Greg and I are currently making these fabulous cookies, Annie happily sitting on the counter and dumping ingredients into the KitchenAid. As we were adding the brown sugar, with the 'arm' in the up position, Greg and I didn't have time to stop her when Annie suddenly leaned her head into the bowl and LICKED the beater. LICKED IT! But, we're already four bucks of ingredients into the process, so slobber cookies it is!



Edited to add: A few minutes later, I watched Annie slap her flour covered hands together over the mixing bowl, a shower of white dust falling from her hands. These are like the least hygienic cookies ever. I also learned to not leave the chocolate chip-adding up to the 2-year old, who stashed about a half cup of them in her little measuring cup, and was munching on them long after I thought they'd all been added.

Dumb Thing I Feel Guilty About

I feel guilty that I'm teaching Annie to use the computer on a Mac. I mean, obviously, Mac's are far superior, but they're not the norm. It's like if I were to teach her the metric system, obviously a better way to measure things, but never introduce her to standard measurements, which are used by everyone else in her country (but nowhere else). I'm teaching Annie to use a computer that will mean when she gets into the real world, like Kindergarten, she'll be all "Where's my Apple key?! What does 'alt' mean!? Why is this operating system so stupid?!" And it'll be all my fault. So, that's a dumb thing I feel guilty about.

I mean, if I really wanted to feel guilty about something, you think it would be that I let Annie eat Ritz crackers for dinner last night.

Are We Evil?

So, both our daughters are screaming bloody murder, 'cause we've dared to suggest they both might need some sleep. Annie's screaming so hard, so long, so incoherently, and I just turned to Greg and said, "She sounds like an angry chipmunk." (Y'all can't hear her, but that is SO exactly the perfect description.) Then we both laughed. For like two minutes. About our daughter's pain (or drama). I'm pretty sure it makes us bad parents, but we couldn't help it. It's one of the few coping strategies that work and keep us laughing.

Other than the not sleeping, there's not much to report. Annie says dozens of hilarious things a day, but only a couple translate well to being typed out, and those I forget before I get to a computer, so, sorry. I'm obsessed with nothing else but the whole 'do we or don't we move' thing, and am pretty much useless in anything besides cleaning my house obsessively so it'd be ready to put on the market should/when we decide to. We did go out to the ward we'd attend if we bought the house we like out in Herriman. Annie loved the nursery there. She went to one of the FOUR nurseries they had. Yeah, that right there pretty much sums up why we're thinking of moving there. FOUR NURSERY CLASSES. And three Sunbeam classes. And 150 primary aged children. And dozens of babies. It's like young Mormon family heaven.

Letting Daddy Sleep

I'm sure it's not that my girls love their Dad way more than they love me . . . they just seem to be more concerned about his happiness and well-being. Every night Greg was in Mexico, Ellie woke up AT LEAST 4 times a night (she has that ear infection we just got diagnosed yesterday). Annie woke up at least once a night, and ended up in bed with me two of the nights. Greg's first night home, Annie slept through the night just fine, until EIGHT IN THE MORNING! Remember the pictures of my two girls sitting in bed together at 7:15 in the morning the other day, THAT was a late morning at our house lately! Ellie slept until 4:45 in the morning before waking up to eat . . . she hadn't made it past midnight a single day this week until Greg got home. Then she didn't wake up for the morning until five after 8AM. It's like they want him to sleep, and love nothing more than for me to be a near-zombie.

What's up with that?!

Countdown to Tubes: Ear Infection 2

So, the nonstop screaming that at our last doctor's appointment (a mere weekend ago) was just a sore throat, was officially an ear infection today. At least this co-pay netted me some drugs that'll make her feel better . . . I feel much better about my $15 being gone when I got to walk away with a useful prescription and not just, "Have you tried Tylenol and a humidifier?" Um, yes. Again and again and again. So, two ear infections down, two-four to go until the tubes!
My Mom and I are wondering if Ellie's a hypochondriac though, since as soon as we left the doctor's office she was in a great mood and has been since. She hadn't even had the drugs that take a day or two to work yet and she was already acting miraculously cured!

Early Morning

Here's my two little early-risers, watching morning TV. I just thought it was so adorable I had to take pictures of the two of 'em sitting together like this. Y'all can probably tell Annie is not so much a morning person. And her hair is CRAZY in the mornings . . . we can't do ANYTHING with it 'til we've wet it down. Annie's sitting here singing, "I'm sitting with my little sister. I'm watching Little Mermaid!" It's a cute song.

Again!?

Here's some pictures of Annie today; not horribly mangled and disfigured, just with my lipstick smeared all over her face (you probably wouldn't be too far out of line if you're sitting there thinking, "Dude, Hilary, how dumb are you?! Have you ever considered putting away your makeup. Like out of reach of the two year old." To which I'd respond, "DON'T JUDGE ME!" and "Yeah, you're probably right. I just keep forgetting how much the kid can climb now!")


For those keeping track, that's lipstick all over, mascara on her face, locking me out of the house, throwing up on me in the store, giving up naps all week and converting to BYU-ism. All in one week. It makes it all the more 'conspiring against her nothing-but-loving-and-patient-Mother' when you put it in context that her Daddy was out of the country all week. Greg's been in Mexico for work, leaving me with one sick and cranky baby, and a two year old who is obviously out to get me. I didn't mention Greg being gone, since this being a public blog on the big wide world of the internet. I mean, the chances of someone monumentaly creepy coming across my post saying my husband was gone was slim to none, but it still seemed like the thing to do to just leave it out of my posts until Greg was on his way home. Annie's been really cute about Greg being gone. "Daddy's at Mexico." She gets so excited when he calls, and reaches for the phone the whole time I get to talk to him. The other day in the bathtub she was loading all of her toys onto the tugboat and saying, "Come on toys! You're all going to Mexico!" And everytime she sees a plane she points and says, "Daddy went Mexico on a plane!" And she talks about when he comes home that they'll get to go to 'class' (they're taking that "Daddy & Me Tiny Einstein's Science" class on Monday nights).

I also got a couple pictures of Ellie having the time of her life in her bouncy chair. This was a rare and treasured 'happy' moment for Ellie, having been overly tired, cranky and sick for the last several days. (What did I ever do to deserve two babies who hate sleeping as much as these two!? I mean, just 'cause I gave up all naps before a year old . . . stupid genetics slash karma.) Annie actually broke down a couple times, starting to cry because Ellie cried so much; she finds it really upsetting sometimes Which I totally get. So, as soon as Grandpa, Cody and Grandma were home, we headed over there to let Annie have fun and get a much deserved break from a crying baby, and for me get a break from a tired, demanding two year old. Have I mentioned how much I love living across the street from the 'rents.

More Pictures

Seeing Ellie in these pajamas yesterday made me think of Annie in the same outfit two years ago . . . so I pulled up the pictures. It's interesting for me to compare and contrast my two little girls.
Annie was much more likely to be making a goofy face at the camera, and Ellie smiles with her whole face; I'm amazed sometimes at how big and wide her smile is in pictures.
Ellie's eyes are still 'undetermined', never having been as dark as Annie's.
Annie weighed about a pound more at this point . . . Ellie nurses about twice as often as Annie ever did, but for about half as long, and spits up twice what Annie ever did, so I guess that equals a slightly smaller baby.
Annie had a bigger nose, more upturned (I'd never noticed it until I compared pictures with Ellie, and I've found you can practically see up Annie's nostrils in half the pictures).
Annie had a little more hair, and it was a little darker and a little thicker. But both are/were practically bald, and are/were often referred to as boys, especially if I make the 'mistake' of dressing them in anything but pink. Even when I had Ellie in a brown outfit with pink polka dot sleeves at the library and grocery store. Literally got FOUR compliments on my cute little boy, and not one person referred to her as a girl.

(The one problem with the picture comparisons is that Ellie was on her back, and Annie was sitting up, so it's not a great match, but they look so cute in the same outfit!)

Proving though that my often-mistaken-for-boys babies turn into quite the little girly-girls though, here's Annie from this morning. Still in her fleece pajamas, not taking the time to undress, she threw on a 'princess' dress and a witch's hat, and ran around the house calling out, "I'm a pretty witch!" The kid would dress up in costumes all day if we had enough to keep her entertained.

Fun New Annie Skills

You know what I found out Annie can do today? She can open and close and open and close and open and close our front door. Then deadbolt it. With her inside; and my sisters, Dad and I all outside. Without a key. That was fun. By the time I'd talked Annie through unlocking the dead bolt, I don't know which of us was closer to tears. "I shut the door and locked it Mommy," she whimpered as I held her close to me once I got back inside. I'm pretty sure I can never leave my house again without a key around my neck on a piece of yarn. And, do you know how much it stresses me out to know she can unlock, even un-deadbolt, the front door and open it whenever she wants?! I was half tempted to go out tonight to buy a chain lock for the top of the door! I may just keep her in her crib until I've sufficiently child-proofed the front door.

Earlier in the evening, we were leaving Chick-Fil-A (the happiest place on earth! They even had a large cow mascot walking around the place playing with the kids. Annie found him fascinating, but told us, "I don't want to hold his hand." Aunt Star said she understood, Annie liked the giant cow, but wasn't 'in like' with him.) On the way home Star and I were talking in the front seat of the car, discussing something of utmost importance. That I don't really remember. So maybe it wasn't that important. Anyway, we were both trying to articulate our feelings about something all emotionally complex or something like that. Star said something that I'm sure was all deep and profound, when Annie suddenly piped up from the backseat, "But at the same time . . . it's weird." Which completely summed up our conversation. And made us laugh. Which made Annie say stuff like, "But at the same time . . . that's a car," and "But at the same time . . . I have a cup," the rest of the way home. I don't know where she comes up with some of this. She did continue to laugh about it the entire drive home though. A hilarious giggle, kind of a girl version of Nelson Muntz's 'ha-ha', which made Star and I laugh even harder, and had Annie saying, "I giggled," then she'd start laughing again, making us crack up . . . it was a whole not-really-vicious cycle type of thing. Seeing this whole thing in type, it's definitely hitting me that this was really only truly funny if you were there, but for those of us who were, it was awesome. Sorry the rest of you, but my car only fits two people besides the huge, bulky carseats! There was just something about hearing my two year old say, "But at the same time . . . it's weird," that makes me laugh just thinking about it.