Scrappy Dappy Doo

Harriet giving Zoe and I the look: Are you two for real? Seriously? I have you two for roles models?!

On Saturday, I found myself all alone with the two-under-two crew for the entire day. Sometimes I think it will be easier with just the three of us because man, those teenagers and the preteen can sure make a mess. Not to mention their social calendar is very difficult to keep up with. But the absolute worst part of having everyone home right now is the two pubescent boys who cannot seem to stay out of each other's way and every time their paths do collide, a fight ensues. One will puff up his chest and the other one inevitably taunts:

Ya wanna go?!

which is then followed up with the teenage boy dance:

push push shove

insult

push push shove

insult

Being a bit of a scrapper myself and being fight-deprived since I met Mr. Level-Headed twenty-four years ago (that man refuses to fight with me . . . grrrr!), their squirmishes always send me in a tizzy and I have more than once responded with:

Ya wanna fight? Fight me! I will gladly kick your a%$!

Ugh!

No Mother-of-the-Year award for me this year. Why do I become such a child in these situations? And why, oh why, do I feel the need to share them publicly?

Anyhoo . . .

Unfortunately, my children do not fear me . . . er, I mean, "fortunately", so the fight quickly dissipates because everyone is laughing too hard. I wish I could say that this was my intention all along; however, I am not that smart and to be honest, I just really love a good fight and none of these Websters will fight with me. There is hope, though! Miss Harriet seems to have a bit of scrappiness in her:

I can only dream . . . er, I mean, wouldn't that be terrible?!

. . . tee hee!

Krista, Where are You?

It's Friday, the sun is shining, there is a crisp breeze in the air and although my body is tired from our action-packed week, I feel energized and hopeful. These past two weeks have been amazing. I will be honest, this past year with the pregnancy and Mr. Level-Headed's new job were really tough on me - mentally, physically and spiritually. I felt stretched beyond my abilities, chasing a toddler and growing another baby in my aging body. With Mr. Level-Headed finished his MBA-CMA and switching careers from real estate to the corporate world of JDI, we were suddenly living on a fixed income for the first time in our married life, and as nice as it is to have a consistent paycheck rolling in and medical insurance, it is very stressful trying to make that paycheck stretch far enough to provide for our family, and to be honest, it does not stretch far enough. I felt like I never had enough energy, never enough money and never enough time to be successful at managing and mothering a family of seven. Feeling physically tired and being unable to keep up with all the demands of our busy household left me doubting myself, my abilities, and my sanity. Throughout the day, I would beat myself up with thoughts like: what have I done? why did I think I could just quit work and have more babies? why do I do these foolish things? 

Gradually, these negative thoughts chipped away at me and I started to believe everything I was telling myself. No, you cannot do this. You were crazy to think you could start over. You are not responsible enough, disciplined enough, caring enough or patient enough to be a mom of five. I stopped writing, I stopped dreaming and I stopped being me - that girl who runs head first into life and hopes for the best, who has great big ideas and chases after them, who does crazy things just for the heck of  it and who believes she can do anything. I had suddenly become fearful.

So, what has changed? Why have I woken up each morning for the past two weeks feeling energized and hopeful? We are still living off an entry-level paycheck, I am still an older mama with a large herd of munchkins and I am still dreadfully behind on the laundry and the housecleaning, but I am writing again. I am consistently writing again, and as crazy as that sounds, it has changed everything.

I had an epiphany the other day while reading the book Bernadette, Where are You?. It is a very funny but very insightful book about a woman who loses herself in the demands of caring for her family and who eventually goes crazy because of it. There was a line in the book that spoke volumes to me: "Bernadette is an artist and if she does not create, she will become a menace to society". No, I am not a menace to society. . .yet . . . but I am also not an artist like Bernadette, who was an architectural genius, but this line struck a chord with me because I am a writer. I create with words, and even though this silly little blog is not popular enough to make any money for me or polished enough for me to consider myself a true artist, it is a creative space that I have carved out for myself. It is where I come to create the stories of things that matter most to me, the everyday adventures of my family, and it is where I come to feel alive and to reconnect with myself after spending the majority of my day engulfed in the mundane but very challenging demands of raising a family. I love being a mom! I love my children and my husband, but I also love writing and in order to be best the mom and wife I can be, I now recognize I also need to be the best writer I can be.

What gifts do you have? What makes you feel alive?

I would love to hear from you.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Leif is currently obsessed with all forms of transportation. He loves to watch the boats sail in front of our house on the river, and he likes to wave to them as they pass by. When planes roar overhead, he stops, stares and points. His favourite thing about the Hampton playground is that it is located right beside a train track and when the train comes barreling down the track, Leif jumps up into his daddy's arms and intently watches the train until it roars out of sight. 

Whenever he hears a motorcycle drive by our house, he becomes over-the-top excited because he thinks it is Grampy Skov-Nielsen coming to visit on his Harley. If it is not Grampy, his heart breaks, but if it is Grampy, then he immediately heads out to the driveway where he assumes the universal man-admiring-metal-and-motor stance.

Hot. Hot.

Yes, it is hot, Leif, so do not touch it.

Hat. Hat.

Yes, Grampy is wearing his helmet.

Then he circles the motorcycle, squats down to gain a different perspective, and requests that Grampy start the engine again.

This boy was born to ride a Harley!

As we were walking to the Halifax Public library the other day, Leif was ecstatic when we came across a real-life construction site in the middle of the city. There were cranes, a digger and lots of dump trucks. The older boys (I have yet to come up with a snazzy name for them . . . grrrrr!) outgrew their fascination with trucks many moons ago; therefore, they were less than impressed with me when I told them that yes, we would be stopping just outside the fenced-in area and that yes, we would be staying there long enough for Leif to get his fill of super-sized, super-cool machines.

Truck. Truck.

And it never fails, whenever Leif is in the presence of these mighty machines, he becomes very quiet, and time seems to stand still for him. You know he is taking in every move they make, examining every contour of their body and wondering how on earth they are able to do what they do.

The other day we took all the kids to the MicMac mall so that the older crew could do some school shopping. It was a L-O-N-G afternoon, but since the babies sucked it up as best as they could, we took Leif to the toy store and let him choose a toy to take home with him. This was a first for Leif, and I think up until then, he had always assumed that the toys had to remain at the store and that they were only there for children to play with when they were growing tired of the mall . . . Eeeeek! We may have ruined a really good thing.

Anyhoo . . . 

He played with some dolls for a bit, and then he moved onto the dinosaurs. I really thought the dinosaurs were going to win out, but then he spotted them . . . trucks!

Truck. Truck.

Would you like to take these trucks home, Leif.

Yet. 

(Leif-speak for yes)

And he nodded his head, which always makes my heart explode because it is over-the-top cute.

I think one of the reasons why I love toddlers so much is that they are genuinely fascinated by things we take for granted and when you are in their midst, you can not help but share in their excitement. What was once ordinary becomes extraordinary with a toddler, and if you can take a moment to slow down and notice what they notice, you are reminded just how remarkable a moving piece of metal with four rubber wheels (or two) is.

Why?!

Zoe had an appointment this week at the IWK, so Mr. Level-Headed and I decided to turn it into a mini-vacay for everyone since we have not done much this summer with the entire family. On Sunday night, just as we were about to reach Truro and the three big kids erupted into a screaming match, WHILE both babies and probably because both babies were crying and had been crying for quite sometime, Mr. Level-Headed and I questioned our sanity and then turned into the nearest McDonald's to let everyone stretch out their legs and fill their bellies. Sometimes I think I make this parenting business much harder than it has to be; like let's have two more babies because three was just not busy enough! How about co-sleeping - don't I see my babies enough all day long? Or cloth diapers - Hello?! Do I need more laundry? How about tandem nursing - Isn't nursing one baby every two hours of the day time consuming enough?

Yesterday, while Mr. Level-Headed and Zoe were at her appointment, I took the two-under-two crew and the two older boys (I need to come up with a snazzy name for them . . . hmmmm) downtown Halifax to visit my sister Hilary at the beautiful new library. Before we went there, though, the crew and I needed to find a place to stop for lunch. I was pushing the double stroller with Leif in it and had Harriet strapped to my chest in her sling (she really does not like to be apart from her mama) so that ruled out any of the crowded restaurants on Spring Garden Rd.

No problem! It is only 36' with the humidity; we can keep on walking until we find a a spot. Oh, Avery! You want to go to the comic book store. Sure! Let's walk a little further. I know it is right down this road. 

Picture it -There I was downtown Halifax on one of the hottest days of summer, pushing this gigantic stroller up the steep hills with sweat running down my back while I try to soothe Harriet, whom I had recently placed in the stroller because I feared she may be cooked onto my chest in all this heat. One of the teens who had decided to wear his new khaki pants that he had just bought the day before and who had no interest in going to the comic bookstore was grumbling under his breath, and the preteen who desperately wanted to spend his last $15 on some comics was growing disheartened as we passed each new block and still had not found it. Thankfully, we did manage to find a restaurant for lunch - a non-air conditioned one mind you, but what they lacked in cool, breathable air they made up for in greasy, delightful donairs, but unfortunately, we never found the comic bookstore.

By the time we made it to the library, I must have been a sight - one sweaty, wild-eyed sight with two crying babies and two cranky teens in tow. My sister took one look at me and asked with a tremendous amount of concern:

What's wrong?

Which surprised me because really, nothing was wrong, and then I had one of those out-of-body experiences where I stepped out of myself, figuratively speaking, and looked at the situation from her eyes . . . eeeeeeek!

Nothing is wrong.

And then I told her all about our "adventures" that morning.

Oh, the comic bookstore moved to the waterfront last year.

Of course . . .

Then for one brief moment, I kid you not, I actually contemplated turning around and heading down to the waterfront. Thankfully, I am not that crazy . . . yet.

So why do I continually choose the more difficult path? Why didn't I, for instance, stay at the hotel with the four kids in our air-conditioned room and let them watch television for the morning and eat Corn Pops out of disposable, plastic bowls? Why? Because I love adventures. I love getting outside and having new experiences. I love pushing myself and going beyond my comfort zone. I love the unexpected and the chaos, but ultimately, I love being a mom and I want to make the most out of every second I get to spend with these five amazing people Heavenly Father entrusted in my care.

Mother of Five Things

When I am out and about with just Leif and Harriet, people are shocked to hear that I am not the young mom of two littles but rather I am the veteran mama of five munchkins. Whenever they look at me in shock and sing my praises for being so "brave" or assume I must be an extraordinary mom for raising five kids, I feel like a fraud and quickly dismiss their accolades. My usual response is: "No, I am not brave, just crazy" and I quickly explain that my first three are much older and pretty independent. My situation is nothing like those mamas who have five under five, or even five under ten. Trust me. Those mamas deserve your praise; not me.

But in all honesty, raising five kids no matter what how large the age gap is tough, and most days I feel completely unqualified and incapable of succeeding at this task. Although my older three can feed themselves, clothe themselves and clean themselves, they still need their mama for things like comfort, advice, guidance, companionship and assurance. And these things are usually required late at night or right around supper time when I am definitely not on my A-game. Since Harriet was born, I have cried many nights as I climbed into bed for not responding to a situation as I should have, for not playing soccer with Avery that afternoon, for not watching that show with Zoe before bed or for not really listening to Elliot when he was telling that story. This summer has been especially hard because I feel like all of my attention and care has been directed towards the two-under-two crew and that the older three have been pretty much raising themselves.

Thankfully, things seem to be changing. I have been feeling more like myself lately. I have been more in tune with the what is going on around me and I have not had to go to bed as early because I am feeling much more rested. Each morning, when I say my prayers to start the day, I pray for opportunities to connect with each of the kids and then I consciously seek these opportunities out. It is difficult. Sometimes I fail, but for the most part, it seems to be working.

Raising kids is hard. Raising five kids when you are just one woman with countless weaknesses and faults is RIDICULOUS, but I take comfort in the fact that like all things in life, you don't have to be perfect to make it work, you just have to want it badly enough that you refuse to give up.

I have come to realize that raising five kids is never going to be pretty. It is never going to be easy, but what helps me get up each morning and fight as hard as I possibly can to prevent it from becoming a total disaster  is my intense love for each and every one of my things and the hope that raising five kids will totally be worth it . . . someday.

Harriet, Harriet, Harriet

Miss Harriet turned two months old yesterday. I am so smitten with her, and I am having a blast dressing her up in pink and dresses. She is the perfect addition to our family. Here are a few things you may or may not know about Miss Harriet:

• Harriet's first nickname was Thing 5. We now call her Miss Moo, Hattie the Fattie (her siblings), Baby Hulk, and Mighty Mouse.

• Harriet is our best sleeper. She sleeps from about 10pm to 4am each night. 

• She is our noisiest baby. She grunts and groans every morning from 5am until we wake up. She also snores and moans.
• On her two month birthday, Harriet cooed for the first time; not to anyone in her family but to my friend Jenn at church. 
• She HATES the car and her car seat!

• She is our strongest baby. Through sheer determination and frustration and an intense obsession with nursing, Harriet has wiggled up to me in the bed on her belly, she has rolled over from back to belly (not intentionally and very inconsistently so I do not view it as reaching one of her milestones), and she has been able to hold her head up since she was one hour old. 

Hence why we call her Mighty Mouse!

• When she was born, she was covered in vernix. None of our other babies were born with it, and my mom, who worked in Labour and Delivery for years as a nurse, suspects that Miss Harriet was younger than 39 weeks due to the vernix and a few other notable features like a lack of eyebrows and a lack of cartilage in her ears. 

• Harriet loves to snuggle and like her big sister Zoe, she is extremely fond of her mama. This fondness for mama is very insulting to her siblings.
• She has already eaten big people food . . . Eeeek! And no, it was not thanks to the toddler. One evening, I was nursing Harriet at the supper table (she is obsessed and I was starving!). When I looked down to see how she was doing, I noticed a piece of rice lying right beside her mouth and before I could grab it, she sucked it in!  
• She has the BEST smile in the whole entire world, and like her mama, she scrunches up her eyes when she smiles. 

• She makes the SILLIEST faces!

Harriet, I love you with all my heart. We needed another girl here at Shenanigans Inc. and I am glad that girl is you. Happy 2 month birthday, Baby Girl!

You really are beautiful!

Packing up and Moving Forward

Last night was the closing ceremonies for yet another successful season at Kingston Soccer Club. It felt surreal to me because in my mind, since I am all healed from my surgery and finally getting into a semi-sensible groove with the two-under-two crew, summer has just begun! This was the first time Harriet had even been on the Kingston soccer field and here they are closing it up. Madness! I swear it can't really be the end of August yet. Right? This is just some cruel joke. Oh,well . . .I think it is safe to say that Harriet has many summers to look forward to kicking a ball around on that field.

Anyhoo . . .

KSC does it right when it comes to closing ceremonies. There was a BBQ, lots of soccer games played, awards distributed, candy and fireworks, which terrified little Leif. He loved the quiet ones, but the loud,, squealy, popping ones frightened him, forcing him to bury his face in Mr. Level-Headed's chest and wave bye over and over again in an attempt to make them stop. In spite of the firework-fail for Leif, it was a beautiful night. It was so nice to chat with friends and introduce them to Miss Harriet, while allowing Leif to run free in a large open space with minimal mess-making opportunities.

While strolling along the field, with Harriet strapped to my chest in her sling and Leif running amok, I spied a group of mamas with three newborn babies. Being a mama of a newborn myself, I walked over to this exclusive club to introduce myself and to meet Miss Harriet's future classmates at MCS. To my surprise all the babies were cousins, born to three sisters and ranging in ages from 1 week to 11 weeks. They were beautiful, and I could not help but remark on how lucky these babies are to grow up with cousins so close in age and in proximity. Hearing the sisters talk about how much fun it was to be pregnant within weeks of one another made me miss my own sister, Emily, who was pregnant with Ava while I was pregnant with Leif. Sadly, they moved away last month to Fredericton so that Emily can get her MA. I am super happy for them both and recognize how important this is for both of their futures, but selfishly, it puts a damper on my life and so I am a little sad, mourning our weekly playdates, trips to the Aquatic Center, and playground adventures. 

Being only a month apart, Leif and Ava have grown very close. In fact, they act like brother and sister; she bosses him around like a little sister and he torments the life out of her like a big brother. And they both gang up on poor little Harriet! She is squeezed, kissed and hugged to the brink of death by those two toddlers and she does not like it! Two weeks ago we visited Emily and Ave in their new apartment and it was touching to see how excited Leif and Ava were to be reunited. Hearing Ava squeal Leify! Leify! Leify! from her screen door as she saw us get out of the car, made me even more determined to ensure that these three little people will grow up together no matter the distance.

                                      

Ava meeting Harriet for the first time - she looks thrilled!

So much has changed this summer. Harriet has joined our family, Leif has become a monster (kidding! Or am I?), Elliot has become a high-schooler, Avery has become a middle-schooler, Zoe has become an all-knowing soon-to-be high school graduate (did that sound snarky? It sounded snarky to me) and Emily and Ava have moved away so that Emily can become a master of writing. This year is really going to be different for me, and although I am a little anxious about how it is all going to turn out, I am excited for the new adventures it will bring. Sure, the circumstances and the settings may have changed, but ultimately, all the characters are still the same and I am eager to see where our story will go from here.

Summer Nights

The afternoons have been long lately but, man, the evenings are killing it! Zoe has been working two jobs the past couple of days, which has left me and the two-under-two crew stranded. At home. In the heat. And because I have baby brain, I keep forgetting to take the stroller out of the van before she leaves for work. ugh! 

And for some unknown reason, Miss Harriet does not enjoy the pool. I think it is because she is very close to mom's cleavage, and well, it's kind of like the story If you give a Mouse a Cookie, if you place Miss Harriet too close to mom's cleavage, she is going to want to nurse. It was so hot one afternoon, I contemplated nursing her right there in the pool, but I was worried she may accidentally drink some of the chlorinated water and that can't be good for 8 week babies. What do you think?

Anyhoo . . .

The babes and I were stranded so we pulled out the books and laid in bed with the fan on. This kept them both entertained for quite some time and then after we had all had enough of The Polite Elephant and The Very Busy Spider, we took some selfies. Harriet really needs to improve her selfie skills. Come on, girlfriend!

Leif's got it!

So, yeah, like I said, the days have been long and hot, but the evenings redeemed themselves. The older crew were all busy, which left just Mr. Level-Headed and I with the two-under-two crew. Since it was so hot and there was only three of us who needed supper, we decided to head out. The first night we went to our local pub and sat out on their new deck overlooking the river. It was heavenly! Harriet slept in her sling on my chest while I enjoyed the cool breeze and an even cooler Coca-Cola. Meanwhile, Mr. Level-Headed chased Leif back and forth from the restaurant to the deck. Perhaps it wasn't so heavenly for him . . . ooopsy! 

Then last night, we found ourselves in the same predicament; all the big kids had plans! This time we decided to grab a few pulled pork sandwiches from the Smoking Pig and head over to Meanan's Cove Beach to let Leif play. Again, it was another perfect night! There was a cool breeze coming off the river and lots of kids for Leif to steal toys from . . . ummm . . . I mean play with. Harriet slept in her sling the whole time, while Mr. Level-Headed chased Leif around . . . aaahhhh!

Okay, so I may be a bit spoiled. 

And Leif is a whole lot of bossy. Check it out!

Have I mentioned that Mr. Level-Headed is Leif's new best friend? He is such a great dad!

Leif hereby decrees that the summer of 2015 shall never end!

I absolutely adore laid back summer evenings! No supper to make or clean up after, no homework to do, and no bedtimes to meet. I think this must be what heaven is like - all sunshine and fun with those we love the most.  

The Toddler

You may know him as Thing 4 or Leif, but lately, I have been referring to him as the Toddler, and when I say it there is a hint of fear mixed with lots of frustration in it. Don't get me wrong, I am absolutely in love with Leif, but lately, well the past 8 weeks to be exact, he has been extremely difficult to deal with. I don't know if he has been like this for quite some time and I simply did not notice it because I was so infatuated with him, or, as I suspect, the moment Harriet was born he immediately morphed into a toddler and became a mess-making, tantrum-thrower who no longer answers when his name is called and who has developed a love for climbing on furniture, a fascination with all things dangerous and a desire to be a dinosaur. He is constantly one step ahead of me, and I feel like he his totally running the show here, while I am left behind feeling torn, tattered and exhausted from his wake of destruction.Case in point: as a I sat down this morning to write my blog post for today, I noticed that the letter P is missing from my computer keyboard. Leeeiiifff! 

If you are wondering how I am typing this post without the P key, well, thankfully there is a little knob I can push but it definitely throws me off my flow.

Leif sure keeps me on my toes lately, which is why I have been trying to take him on little adventures each day to minimize the mess he makes in the house, to wear off some of his boundless energy, and to prevent myself from simply letting him brain drain in front of the television (which would make my life so much easier and is so very tempting to do and has to be resorted to on occasion). So, even though I was healing from a c-section and even though I am exhausted from being up with him all night  . . .

yes, I did say him! Harriet is a wonderful sleeper but for the past week Leif has been getting up for an hour or two each night. I had another child like that by the name of Elliot, and so yeah, I am afraid. Very afraid!

Anyhoo . . . where was I?

I still force myself each day to get up, get my act together and head out into the world with the two-under-two crew even though all I want to do is lie in bed nursing Harriet, while drinking a Coke and reading a book or binge watching Grand Hotel because staying at home with the Toddler is anything but restful and usually leaves me frothing at the mouth with my head spinning.

 ****************************************************

Case in point: moments ago, while I was writing, Leif was happily watching one of his morning shows and Harriet was sleeping on her playmat when Leif was suddenly overcome with a desire to give his sister a giant hug. As I stood up to tell him to get off of his sleeping baby sister, the cord was pulled out from the laptop (which no longer has a working battery) and the screen went black. My heart sank as I said goodbye to the post I feared was lost forever and I ran over to pick him up off of Harriet. When I picked him up, I discovered he was soaking wet. I scanned the room and noticed a giant puddle on the coffee table, which was made from a cup of water someone had left there last night. I tickled him and scooped him up to change him for the third time this morning (I kid you not and he has only been up for 3 hours!). While I was discarding his dirty diaper into the diaper pail, Leif got into the jar of bum cream that I had left beside him on my bed and covered himself and Derrick's pillow with it . . . Hello! I am not a newbie here either. I am the almost forty, mother of five children. You would think I could stay one step ahead of a person who has been here on earth for a mere 20 months, but nope . . . .

I have to apologize, I did not intend for this post to become a rant about my darling little Leif, and yes, I did have a positive purpose for this post (why must there be so many P's in that sentence . . . tee hee!), so let's get to it:

As tired as I am, as difficult as it is to pack up two babies to get out for a morning or an afternoon, it truly is rewarding. Out in the sunshine, among other moms and children, and in a space designed for little people to run, explore and make messes in like playgrounds, splash pads, beaches and toy rooms at the library, I fall in love with the Toddler again. My frustrations dissolve and my heart bursts beneath the weight of his overwhelming cuteness as I see him climb up the slide, squeal with laughter as streams of water spray his face, bury his dinosaurs beneath the sand and ask "where did he go?" for the hundredth time, and build forts with the giant Lego pieces at the library. Away from the coloured-on walls, the trails of toilet paper strewn throughout the house, the puddles of melted popsicles and the looming piles of dirty laundry and dishes, I reconnect with Leif and recognize his fascination with and his need to engage with the sensory-rich world we live in that is completely new to him in the only way a twenty month old can: head-on with no thought or care for the consequences.

I have said it time and time again, and I can, in all honesty, say it again:

Toddlers are the best!

 

I wonder what we will do today?

Baby Brain

We have all heard of baby brain, and most people believe that women who suffer from this are dealing with slower than normal brain function; however, since I am currently suffering from baby brain myself, I have realized that this is not the case. In fact, I believe that all the carelessness and forgetfulness we attribute to baby brain is due to the fact that our brain function is currently in overdrive. A mama's brain is keenly aware of all that is going on around her and especially what is going on around her baby or babies, as in my case. She is scanning her surroundings for potential danger and she is ready to react in what ever way that is required of her within a millisecond. Being in this reactive state all the time is exhausting. Throw in weeks of disrupted sleep on top of it and you have the new mama fog, the state of  feeling separated from the real world and being utterly encompassed within the babysphere, a universe centered upon the most basic of human needs: love, nourishment and excrement.

This is where I have been the past 8 weeks, so please forgive me if I do not speak in coherent sentences, if I appear to not be following your conversation, or if I appear disheveled and confused. The sole purpose of my existence is currently wrapped up in making sure that Miss Harriet knows she is surrounded by people who love her, that she chubs up to the point where her rolls have rolls on them, and that she is not lying in her own waste, WHILE keeping Leif (aka the Toddler) actively engaged in order to prevent mass devastation to our abode and serious injury to the currently defenseless Miss Harriet. So, I ask you: could any of this be accomplished on limited brain function? I think not!

In order to maintain the PG-rating of Shenanigans Inc., my insane breastfeeding cleavage has been edited out. You're welcome!

They are totally worth a heavy dose of baby brain  . . .