Home Sweet Home

My friend's husband took our girls for a ride on a small school bus. They looked out the window, pointed out cows and argued over whether it was a "bus" or a "school bus" with Arwyn looking at me for confirmation. My answer? "Yes."


Her outfits get more and more ridiculous as she tries to dictate what she wears. Most days it's just not worth the battle.


I survived my first and last bachlorette party this weekend. It was fun, but I was so glad to come home to this:


And I thought running around after her all the time wore me out. WOW. Is that yet another sign of getting old(er)? You don't need to answer that. Seriously.