Lock up your daughters

Yesterday I started to put a onesie on Christian that said, "Lock up your daughters."  When Eliza saw me pulling it over his head, she said angrily, "I hate that shirt!"  Her vehement reaction surprised me, until it dawned on me that she thought the shirt's message was nothing more than a call for her incarceration.  Ha ha. 

On a completely unrelated note, I cannot get enough of the cuteness and sweetness of this little guy.

Christian is always doing this "Calvin [and Hobbes] smile."  You know, the triangular mouth one? 

I can't resist posting one more picture of Christian that always makes me laugh.  (Taken by my talented bro-in-law, Spencer.)  It makes me laugh every time to see his chubby face in the upside down bubble.

The favret prsin

This week I got an email from Eliza.  Apparently, Sage taught her how to log in to the email account Mark set up for her when she was born.  I mean borin. (see below)  It's clear she was instructed on the use of emoticons, as well.  Here's the email she sent me.  I can only imagine how long it took her to write and type it.

hlow mom i loved you evin win  i was borin. you are varey nis i love you.you are  my favret prsin in the hol wrd.eliza               
 

Seriously, how did I get to be so lucky?

The sweetness of notes and moments like these help me rise above the drudgery of certain duties of motherhood like multiple nighttime feedings, unyielding excess baby weight, and hours a day spent chauffeuring.

How can I not love the job that makes me the recipient of my kindergartener's first sent email, the object of my baby's adoring smiles, the recipient of my three year old's urgent news about finding a worm? 

I'm willing to pay the price in time, sleep, and the sacrificing of my own interests to own a fighting chance of being my kids' favret prsin.