And this one is tired.

Doesn't have time to be bothered by your nonsense.

3 is the new 13.

The G-rated version of the last post.

Go, baby, go!

Smiling with the fishies

Well she was, I swear.

I can just hear Super Nanny flipping out about this one.

Getting ready for bed. Kind of.

Sleeping like a baby.

Goin' Home.

The one where Claire has the hiccups.

This was taken in the dead middle of the night while we were still in the hospital. Maybe this is funny to me because Sophie and I get the hiccups all the time, or maybe it's just the meds.

This is what happens when someone refuses to take a nap.

Naptime.

Dancing on the ceiling.

So.
Apparently there is caffeine in iced tea.
Who knew?

Sleep depravation is a form of torture utilized at Gitmo. And at my house.

John Lennonette is seriously cranky.
(She was just John Lennon until she laid eggs. Then we had to improvise, because clearly, I don't know my boy parts from my girl parts.)

Sicky-sick-sick-sick.

Over at our house, we are busy. Busy with leaky noses and red watery eyes, ugly coughs, snot-launching sneezes and lost voices. When one person with a stuffy nose makes sure nobody in a three-mile radius sleeps at night. I think even our lizards are sleep deprived.
And is there anything more sad and pathetic than an 8 month old baby trying her bestest to smile for the camera? No, I don't believe there is.

Sleeping...

Just wanted everyone to know, we like the new carseat just fine. Well, after she's all tuckered out from the screaming.

And yes, we also like hats.