The Kids are Super

Fiona had a package arrive in the mail this week with a new shirt for her from my Aunt Marilyn. The shirt says "Spina bifida messed with the wrong girl." We had just finished talking about how the treadmill had kicked mom's butt that day (hello 12 minute miles. which aren't fast, but are faster than I had been going). When Mike asked her if she knew what the shirt meant, she giggled, looked a little shy, and said "it means I kick spina bifida's butt." Yes it does, baby girl. Yes it does.

Yes Ma'am!

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After bath one night this week, I was helping Declan get ready. He told me that he had a story, but when I asked him to tell it to me, he declined. After acting sad for him and asking him "pretty please," here is the story he told me (said in the cutest, most dramatic little boy voice): Once upon a time. There was a little tiny kitty. Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow. And the he looked at me with such pride that all I could do was give him a great big hug. And giggle.

Sometimes Spiderman is also Super

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There is a pile of paperwork on the counter with Quinn's name on it. I've spent the week filling out the forms to make her an official Kindergarten registrant for next fall. While she is clearly ready to join her buddy Jonah as the new Kindergartners at the bus stop, I can't believe she is old enough, big enough, ready enough to go to the big kid school. If that wasn't enough, she talked me into putting hot rollers in her hair this weekend. She had quite the big hair when we took them out and the perfectly formed cheerleader ponytail.

There is a superhero with her name. Yahtzee!