Tate and his 103º fever yesterday
Tate watching Cars this morning.
Tate hiding from me when it was time to get ready to go to the doctor's.
Lyla didn't want me to feed her. Since she can't talk, she told me this by hitting the spoon away each time it got near her mouth.
Heading to the doctor's.
Hey Tate, doesn't that hurt your knees?
Tate wanted me to make Horton out of playdough.
Green Horton.I was cleaning out the garage while the kids were napping and found a box of candles that Mel had been hoarding. I decided to light all of them and place them on our counter to set a romantic mood when Mel got home. Nothing says romance like a child with a 103º fever, a daughter who won't eat, and 15 candles filling the air with a gross array of cinnamony, potpourri aromas.