I love my children, I really do, but lately it seems like more drinks are required to tolerate them. Violet is in this fun new stage where she cries the tears of a broken soul at every little thing. We're going to visit the grandparents over 4th of July - she's sad because she's going to miss Ellicott City and the big corn (in case you're out of the loop and let's face it, you are, it's a giant picture of corn on the cob hanging from the ceiling at Target). She can't take no for an answer without breaking down. It's our fault for giving in to her for so often - but, cripes - until recently she'd throw up every time she cried. Cleaning up vomit all the time isn't as fun as you think.
Zoey is in the delightfully cute stage (that will probably last well into adolescence) of copying every crazy thing her sisters do, including all the crying. Every time she bumps anything she cries and needs a kiss. Luckily, I can be across the room and say, "Oh, you need a kiss? Mmwwa!" Crying stops, "Tanks Mom! I feel betters!" Clearly I have magical kisses and need to figure out a marketing plan - hmmm, is that legal?
Lorelei turns on a dime, one minute everything's great, next minute she's bored and starts torturing Violet, then a couple of hours later she's kindly playing Memory with her.
Anyway, it's lucky they are cute, that's all I'm saying.
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