Where have we been?

[Note: Jill didn't like this peice. She found it overly grumpy and the shameless request for money offensive. However, since it has been replaced, I decided to not edit it.]

Contrary to the many complaints we've received of late, we haven't dropped off the face of the earth.

No, Dear Readers, we've merely been busy. I know this might be hard to understand for those of you with little else to do during your work or leisure time than to read these words, but some of us don't live in such a state of luxury.

Nope. No Sirree, Bob. While you sit at your desk while your absentee boss is playing golf, or in your comfy chair at home, we work like sled dogs nonstop because babies are expensive and WE'VE GOT THREE.

Three picky mouths to feed. Three sets of clothes to buy. Three each of Elmo, Barney, Pooh, and everything else to pay for in order to keep the inevitable 130 decibel tantrums at bay a few seconds longer.

No, Dearest Dear Readers, we haven't grown lazy I assure you. But, while we really, really feel sorry that you've been denied your periodic dose of cute for the past several weeks, we've just been a wee bit too busy waiting for the next baby-driven disaster to fall from the sky like a piano from a window in a Tom and Jerry cartoon. These things--believe it or not--leave very little time to keep you entertained by the goings on at the Raines house. There. I hope I've sufficiently explained our situation.

Also, it's 5:30 A.M. and I haven't had my coffee yet so perhaps I'm just a bit cranky.

But still, do you feel guilty? Well do you? Of course you do. Now send us some money and you'll feel much better. Cash, personal checks, negotiable securities, Walmart gift cards, and any other form of legal tender will all be happily accepted.

Now on to the news.

Our children have big heads...

...and we are rightfully proud. We've just returned from our 2-year check-up and, while the babies are in the 10th to 50th percentile for weight and height (unadjusted for gestational age), they are all in the 90th percentile for head size. Jill asked if this was "normal" and the Doctor said, "Some people just have big heads."

Makes sense, I suppose. As you know, Jill and I are way smarter than most people, probably even, in the famous words of George W. Bush, "Plenty smart enough to be President." So, no doubt this big head thing is necessary to house the tremendous brain power we've passed to Sara, Carter, and Zane.

Undeniable proof of their genius-like intelligence:

Sara now says excuse me when she burps--she learned this from observing Jill.

Zane now looks to see where his head is going land before throwing himself on the floor in a fit of toddler rage for being denied another cookie.

Carter now waves his finger in accusation at his brother and sister and says, "no climbing gates" when we catch the three of them having escaped from their baby corral. It's as if he thinks that blaming his siblings will fool us into not noticing that he too has climbed out. If deflecting blame by accusing others isn't proof of extraordinary intelligence, I don't know what is.

Oddly enough, they've all started saying "OK...No" just like the famous Miss Swan from Mad TV. I'm waiting for them to say "Looka Lika Man" before I accuse any of them of sneaking out of bed to watch TV.

And...if you hadn't gathered this already...everyone just turned two. That is except Jill and me and we just feel that old emotionally but 100 times that physically.

More Words: Lessons Learned, 1999 | On the new Millennium