This morning I hear Callie crying upstairs. In a house with 5 kids, someone is crying every 5 minutes, but still I go to investigate. Mostly because Aron's home today and I want to make sure I look like a good mom to him (yeah right ... he knows the truth by now).
Callie comes down the stairs and says Michael smacked her arm. I ask Michael why he did that, tell him we don't hit, blah blah blah.
He goes, "She said nothing hurts her." So he smacked her to show her that things do hurt her.
Today I'm going on a little date with my oldest son to D'Bronx to eat pizza and chat (his choice), then to Target so he can get a Nerf gun with his allowance so he can further terrorize his siblings and friends.
Eva is closing in on the age of 2 and can say the word "Plumpy" so cute!
Samwich is 1 month old today and starting to chunk up like a true McLoughlin. Nursing is going well ... still getting some formula each day, but at least I'm not shelling out billions of dollars on the stuff. What will I do when the free cans run out? If you leave the word "pump" in the comments section, I'll track you down and give you a spankin'. I hate pumping and get minimal milk, so don't even suggest it, Bloggy Peeps.
Catch ya later.