My very very very own blog.

The kids are in bed. Aaron is on the headphones listening to Sufjan Stevens. I am ashamed to be waiting for American Idol to come on in ten minutes to I can shiver my way through the fluff to find out who is going home. I'm not proud of this moment.

Lola is on night three of sleeping in the "kid room" which means that for the first time in thirteen months we can undress without fear of our zipper sounds waking her up. We can read in bed. We can talk. It is soooooooo lovely.

Isaac still has an orange and green striped scalp, because I haven't gotten my mommy eagle claw fingernails in there with some shampoo to remove the last traces of his carnival hairspraydo. Zada got her fuscia scalp clawed at yesterday and only has remnants of punk left. Ah, 4 year old punk. Smells like pre pre pre teen spirit.