We Interupt Regular Scheduled Programming

It's been a month of blog silence. I know.

It's not like nothing has happened here. There's been loads of things. Loads of photo-worthy things.

And the kids. My oh my, the kids.

Jane's a genius. I'm not exaggerating or doing the Mom thing (OK, maybe I'm doing the Mom thing a little). But she's a freakin' genius. Like, she knows almost all her dinosaurs. Seriously. I mean, maybe she has a hard time differentiating between Carnotaurus and Tyrannosaurus Rex, but she's learning the subtle differences between the two. It's the cutest thing when she says Ankylosaurus or Diplodocus. Breaks my heart.

And today she sounded out a word from Super Why. After Red informed us that i-n-g makes the ing noise, she "read" sing and swing. (Did I already mention she knows all her letters and their sounds? I thought I had. I'm a bragging fool over this one. She reminds me of my little sister Katie.) Just turned 2 1/2. She kills me.

And I'm not lying. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

And Elliot.

The kid is funny. I mean, really funny. And he likes to get into trouble. A lot. On purpose too. And he's losing his baby look. He still has it, but last night when Lane wrapped him in a towel after bath, I glanced at his little face and thought "there it is. That's what he'll look like as a little boy." I got a little pang in my heart. But he just laughed at my mournful face. (He thinks most things in life are a big old riot.)

And he's this close (imagine two fingers close together) to walking. Which is HUGE in this house. Huge. He's also got the aim of a quarterback with his little football. I think Lane's already got it all worked out in his head how Elliot will be a major football star.

But I've been in self-imposed blog silence. Kind of like the vow of silence monks take.

I'm really only breaking this silence to make a public declaration of love for the man who became mine for time and all eternity four years ago.

Only four years. It feels like forever and a nanosecond all at the same time.

He is the best part of me. They say to marry someone who makes you want to be better. He does that every day. He's my best friend and the only one I want to tell all my secrets to.

I love you, Lane. Here's to eternity and nanoseconds wrapped up into one for the rest of time.
We'll now return to our regularly-scheduled silence.