I would love to write more but we've fallen into such a very quiet, orderly uneventfully satisfying routine that I can't think of very much to write about. All my off time reading is political (SO Exciting! I just LOVE a good election cycle!) but there's no way I'm going to blog about it.
Mostly I gaze out the windows or stare at the cats and think, "hmmm, there's got to be something interesting to gum up the internet with" and then go cook another meal or pick up crayons or something.
I guess I expected the days to be a lot crazier and to have strange and ridiculous things to write about. But the babies sleep through the morning, and Romulus and Gladys color devotedly, build huge towers, review the alphabet, count and write numbers and letters, read little primers and pretend they're other people while they do all those things (Gladys: Ok, pretend I'm the princess and I told you to go to bed. Romulus: Ok, and then I got up and killed the bad guys. etc. etc.) During which Elphine and Alouicious read, write, do math, draw parts of the world, learn grammar, add to Latin and English vocabulary, practice piano and so on and so forth with a creepy amount of cheer and good humor.
We all even make our beds every day. And I only yell now when it starts to feel too stuffy and happy. But nobody listens because they can tell my heart's not in it. I guess I should read more, or something. I mean, a blog needs angst and hysteria to really make it interesting, I always think.