Excuses, excuses...

I have the feeling I'll be doing this a lot--apologizing for and feeling guilty about not getting pictures and posts up because we're just so DANG busy! Now that I've started back to work, I think Kyle and I have realized that if we're really REALLY good about utilizing every nanosecond to its fullest potential (e.g., (stopwatch in hand) "Okay Karys--2 minutes and 13 seconds to play in the bath, and then it's into your PJs!"), we might actually have a full 7 minutes to speak to each other every evening before collapsing into bed. That said, I've realized that even if I don't have an hour to go search for my camera cord, upload pics, select the perfectly representative pictures, and write heartfelt captions for each picture, I still should write down some of the memorable moments before they got lost in the shuffle (in my case, before all this pesky "law" I learn every day shoves out adorable Karysisms like "babloon"...that's "balloon"...how cute is that?).

So, here goes:

Last Sunday we were visited by the Easter Bunny (AKA the "Rabbit Bunny" if you're Karys...AKA the "Rabid Bunny" if you're her goofy parents). The previous night I maaaay have lured her into bed by telling big fat lies about said bunny: I peeked out the front door a few times and told her he/she (let's have gender equality, people!) was two houses down and she had to hurry and get in bed; we listened intently for sounds of bunny whiskers scratching at her window checking to see if she was in bed; and I let her think it was HER idea to turn all the lights out so the bunny would know she was in bed and he/she could come hide eggs. She was an angel about going to bed and didn't make a peep (save for asking politely if I could put Daisy to bed, too, so she wouldn't bark at the bunny). Thanks to the grandmas...err, the Rabid Bunny...Karys and Jack had baskets overflowing with Easter goodies (and barely any candy, thank you very much).

Karys has taken up dancing in our living room on pretty much a nightly basis. I can't say we recognize many of the moves, but it's entertaining nonetheless. Of course she has to wear her "fancy dress" over her clothes at all times while dancing, and everybody in the room (including her baby--that'd be Jack) MUST be watching the performance, and doing nothing but.

9 days ago we got a new Fancy Nancy book ("Bonjour, Butterfly"). Since then we've read it EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT. Anyone who wants to come to our house and volunteer to read Karys her bedtime story (or have it read to them, as she has memorized the entire thing) is more than welcome.

I started back to work on Monday, and Jack started school. I will admit, I bawled Monday morning when I left him and just about every time I heard "Hey Leyna! Welcome back--how's the baby?" Everyone said it would get easier and I guess it has, a little bit. That's probably only because his daycare is 6 minutes from my work and I visit/feed him on my lunch breaks and then rush out of work at 5pm every day (UNHEARD OF at a big firm, by the way). He's had some trouble taking the bottle, but he's getting the hang of it slowly. And I am getting the hang of pumping at work. Most important lesson: lock door while pumping, because someone will inevitably come looking for me during those 5 minutes. Luckily, I have an awesome coworker who nursed/pumped for 13 months and has given me tons of great advice on how to make it all work, including getting a hands-free pumping bra so I can feel like a farm animal and bill hours AT THE SAME TIME. Amazing, people. I am a real "career woman."

Like a real grownup Kyle is reading the Wall Street Journal every morning and following the stock market (I begin each morning by checking People.com and Celebrity Baby Blog for a shameful, shameful comparison). I am fully confident he will become an expert at making tons of money even in this tanking economy, and soon I won't have to be a "career woman"--instead I'll be able to spend all my time doing crafts with the kiddos and updating this blog! Until then, though, I should go to bed. Good night, all.

Jack, this is your cue to get ravenously hungry and keep me up for another 2 hours...