It started with the maiden voyage of our double loaded double stroller. Jillian can huff and puff her way through her stupid Shred by herself. I'm hauling 37 pounds of baby around the 'hood in a 34 pound stroller, and that's as good as any dumbell row or squat-and-press that crazy lady can come up with.
The babies in their Bumbleride:
(Not going to lie, Vivi didn't put up with this for too long before she was fussing and had to be put into the Bjorn I had the foresight to pack along for when this happened. Oh well. It's a start.)
Then, my children decided to totally rock my world and sleep for THREE hours. The SAME three hours! From noon to 3pm, I was a lady of leisure. Well, a lady of leisure who cleaned the hall closet and neatened the kitchen and paid a few bills and scrubbed a toilet and folded eight thousand pieces of freshly laundered baby clothing. Okay, and who played on the Internet and read my Kindle and drank Diet Mountain Dew like water. (And who checked each of my children twice to make sure they were still breathing, so unlikely the fortune of this dual nap seemed.)
After naptime, we were back outside to enjoy a drop dead gorgeous Texas afternoon. We walked and we played and one of us ended up naked. Fortunately, it wasn't me. Any day that ends with a buck naked toddler laughing and playing (and not barfing or pooping!) is pretty fantastic in my book.
Buttcrack concealed to protect the innocent.