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Fussy

So it’s been ages since I’ve posted. I have SO MANY STORIES to share with you from the hell that was our September.
I (of course) don’t have time right now, so I’ll just give you this short in the meantime.

 

 

 

Last night, my husband was putting the kids to bed while I was at Soldierfit. (If you’re in the DC Metro area, you MUST check it out! http://www.soldierfit.com – just tell them I sent you, I *really* want that recruiter T-shirt. *wink*)

Our youngest (who is currently teething, sick and a general 16m pain in the butt without the vocabulary to express her constant, all-encompassing, ever changing emotions) was crying and unhappy with everything in her life at about 6:45, which is really early for her to go to bed.

 

 

 
My husband says to her: Kathryn, are you tired? Do you want to go night-night?
Kathryn replies with: Please. I’m FUS-sy!

 

 

Yes you are, baby girl. Yes you are.

 

 

Here’s a cute pic of her so you understand why she is still alive and not smothered in her sleep. (Yes, a joke. No need to runsofastyoutripyourself to the nearest CPS office):

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Yup., Those goddamn piggies are the fucking cutest. You know that you want to steal her. But imma have to cut a bitch if yuo even try it, so step off.