Find the Owls

Did we have a weekend. Whew!

Matthew discovered an unexpected use for mascara - transforming himself into a "Rock Star," as Claire put it. She was deeply impressed and profusely complimentary of his look.

Our girls had a joint birthday party. There was pizza. There was cake. There was mom running around, sweat pouring off her face, vowing that for eternity there would never be another birthday party.

And a bouncy slide that we shouldn't have paid that much for but oh my gosh. They loved it. I could actually see the memories being imprinted in their brains.

Claire, quite enjoying one of her many gifts.
 And finally, on the walk to the bus stop this morning, these came along.

They are Matthew's greatest joy. They are his precious. To Mom and Dad, they are an infernal curse that will seemingly never end.

You want him to sleep? Find the owls. Do you want him to eat peacefully? Find the owls. Do you want him to stop screaming and crying? YOU WILL FIND THE OWLS.

The owls have all power. We are a slave to the owls.