They're cute, huh? (And even if you don't agree, just nod your head and smile, since I am the one who spent 36+/- weeks incubating this dynamic duo.)
My Bri is trying to get me to blog here on a more regular basis (she's even trying to persuade me to give up my Diaryland site! I've been there about three years, crazily enough. It started just as a place to blog crazy dreams, but is now my little blog-lifeline ... we'll see where my loyalty manifests itself.)
Now, I'm a little nervous about the whole picture uploading-thing. This is taking a dang long while. That scares me just a tad. Maybe you won't be seeing the reason thatI never have the time to blog anywhere except my primary (aka Diaryland).
Geez, I'm just blathering on and on, aren't I? I could just start talking about Bruiser and Bucket (the kiddos) ... but that's so ... sterotypical of motherhood, right?
Ah-HA! It's loaded!! Hmm, not the best pic of my Bucket ... she's really a very pretty baby. Just ask my Bri. She'll set you straight if you're in doubt.
Since I now KNOW that the pictures do load, I can load more later! (Since my sloooooooow connection takes just short of friggin' FOREVER.)
So, I'll just TELL you about my munchkins. (Oh, NOW the pics load. Of course, murphy's law.)
Bruiser-bear is older by two minutes. He's totally got the crawling-thing down, although it can sound funny. He'll slap down his right hand and left knee and then follow with a quick succession of left hand-then-right-knee. If you don't know what you're hearing, you could almost mistake it for Samara's limping gait in The Ring. He's a cuddler. Today he finally started talking with a consonant. He's been "Bah buh bahbuh uh uh uh"-ing all afternoon. His favorite thing? Food, definitely. He's such a flirt with the ladies (of any age and in any condition, really).
Bucket is the quintessial little princess, although her daddy is determined that she'll be able to take any guy or gal out there in a fair fight. And he's right. She has such determination and independence that it blows my mind. She loves bathtime and being free to do her own thing ... especially chasing after Diana-cat. Whenever Bucket falls, it's a Broadway production of a little crying fit. Unless she notices that no one's watching. (She'll be embarassed in about ten years that I write this, but this girl can projectile vomit!! She got her dad in the mouth once ... she's also got down my shirt and one of her grandmas' shirt, too! ... She's over that now, but if she gets too worked up, she'll cry until she throws up.) (I'm SURE she's glad that I've included that.)
I'm still a regular (or as regular as I can be) blogger over at diaryland. Like usual. I still haven't made the cross over. Yet. But I keep thinking about it.
Thinking long and hard. Very hard, indeed.
Until then, this is going to be a sporadic thing. Until I get myself in gear.
