One is not the lonliest number. In our house, one is the equivalent of 12 months, 365 days with Carli and Joseph. One is the equivalent of approximately 300 gallons of formula, 60 gallons of milk, and somewhere in the vicinity of 50 000 diapers (holy eco-terrorism, Batman).
One equals 400 advils for mom, 4000 liters of coffee for dad, and 8000 viewings of various baby einstein episodes. 700 hours of trying to get songs out of our heads, 100 trips to babies r us, and 500 utterances that sound something like, "Sorry we haven't called /emailed you back..."
One also equates to the infinite amount of amazement that deepens daily.
Next myth to go on the slaughtering block:
Yet despite the aforementioned glitch, the onset of molars (a wonderful catalyst to already irritated bowels...) and very little parental energy, the kids were nothing short of their usual amazing selves. Cranky at times, but they didn't waver in their ability to make us smile like morons:
Carli is recognizing faces, and loves to kiss photos (and real people too). Uncle Jordan's photos and Uncle Larry's magazine ads are two of her faves. She is also practicing tones and syllables- and while very few decipherable words are spoken, she has mastered the art of gobbledygook so well that even strangers have to agree when she says "doig doig degok degok degok".
Now if you'll excuse us, we are happy and we know it and now it's time to stomp our feet.






















