Having boys is a challenge.

And why is it a
c
0000
+ ...challenge? Well, right there for instance. I'm typing along and Seb comes over and starts pounding on the keyboard. If the boys are upstairs playing nicely together for more than 20 minutes they're most likely covered in paint along with half the upstairs (as you can see from the picture below). When you walk out to the backyard you see there is a stick shoved in the central air conditioning unit jammed between the fan blade and the housing when it's 100 degrees out. When Cherity has a friend over and they get to talking... Owen takes 50 pictures of himself along with a few of everything else including Cherity's friend's butt (that was actually pretty funny when I was looking through all of the pictures on the digital camera. good thing they're deleteable.) I could fill this blog up daily with stuff like this. It's pretty much non-stop. Screaming, making gun noises. Getting naked. Peeing. Fighting. Sticking things in holes. Building things with whatever's available. Borrowing tools. Using tools for what tools aren't meant for. Re-arranging the garage. Digging holes in the backyard. Re-arranging the backyard. Dumping dirt in the pool. Killing baby birds. Catching butterflies (and killing them). Catching clams at the river (and killing them ... that one really stunk!) and the list goes on and on.

This picture doesn't show it, but, yes he's buck naked and painted everywhere. There was paint on the upstairs carpet, walls and littel blue foot print throughout.