Eternal Sunshine of the Messed Up Mind
I woke up the other day completely freaked out about how a parent handles the high school graduation open houses of twins. Do they have one joint party? Two separate parties? What’s a mom to do!? (For the record, I’ve decided that we should plan, in 18 years, to offer our kids a choice. If they want a joint party, it can be bigger. If they choose separate open houses, they’ll each have to sacrifice a little bit. It’s good to have these things settled.)
Who The Heck Were These People?
DH recently destroyed an icky storage shed erected by the previous owners of our house. It violated code and was ugly and useless, so he tore it down. Underneath, he discovered what appears to be the contents of a woman’s wallet — NOT a woman who has ever lived in our house. Fortunately, DH looked her up and she is still alive and well.
You Have to Consider All the Angles
We have finally started to get serious about names for the babies. In fact, I think we might be set, but we’re still thinking. You see, sometimes danger lurks in the best-sounding names. We thought we had the girl’s name all figured out, and oh, how we both loved the name. It was perfect. Except the initials were KFC.
Perhaps I Eat Too Much Cheese
Theories abound about what precipitated the conception of our twins. There’s the family history, and the fact that I stopped taking birth control pills not long before we conceived. And now there’s this. (In case you can’t see the article: a study now suggests that women who eat dairy conceive fraternal twins at a much higher rate than women who do not, possibly because of the increased use of bovine growth hormones.)