I have the best kids in the world. I really do. They are cute, they are hilarious, they are well behaved, they are just wonderful. I'm so lucky. I truly am.

Spencer was so cute today. When I asked him to point to the french fries in a book he looked at me and said 'no' and shook his head. I laughed so hard. Yesterday when I pointed out a sheep in a book and said sheep says baaa, he pointed to a different sheep and said baa. Coolness. Today he was strutting past the mirror checking himself out. And looking at his mouth when he was making different sounds. He said bye-bye and turned away from the mirror.

Rachel is pulling up and very stable stuff and will soon have enough strength and balance to pull up on not so stable stuff. She pulled the table in the playroom on top of herself yesterday. She's taken a few more stable crawling moves, but she's still working on that. Mastered sitting up. She's doing it in her crib as soon as I lay her down and then not sure what to do next, so she starts wailing. Her cries are getting more kid like, and cuter (when I'm not already frustrated, then they are just irritating).

I have the best husband in the world. We have problems, who doesn't. We go through times (like Dr. Heather says) when the sound of the other breathing drives us insane. But all in all I have a wonderful husband, who is a wonderful father. He loves me and he loves our children. He loves his parents, even when they drive him crazy. He worries about all of us and how he'll continue to provide for us and do what is best for us. And at times he worries a little too much, but that's better than the alternative.

I found out more disturbing news today about our friends. It just keeps getting worse. Much, much, much worse. Like infinitely worse. Like it can't possibly be any worse than this worse. If anything it makes it that much more unrealistic and unbelievable to the point that my mind has completely let go because the other alternative is to lose it completely.