With two boys and a husband, I am clearly outnumbered. This is sometimes very…tiring, especially when they forget to put the seat down; nothing like starting your day by falling in the toilet.

As my boys get older, I really start to get a reality check as to what living in a house full of men feels like. For example, potty humor transcends age, just ask my husband. So does Guitar Hero…and Nerf guns…and plastic swords…and everyone is a moving target.

My boys are perpetually in motion. They don’t walk; they run, squirm, dance and shake their way through life. This normally is expected, but sometimes, I just want to duct-tape them down for five minutes of stillness.

Like picture time. Getting a good picture of my boys is like trying to herd cats.

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No pretty poses or smiles for these clowns.  Oh no. In fact, I should just count my blessings that they are both fully clothed and not trying to strangle one another.


Boys have no interest in posing for pretty pictures. Just ask tweetle dum and tweetle dummer.


Every once in awhile, I actually do manage to capture a hint of the sweetness that is hiding under all that boyishness. And it’s just quite enough to make up for that whole toilet seat thing.

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