Outnumbered.

I have heard that having one kid is relatively easy (or at least do-able), having two is almost better because the first has a playmate, and that three is the number where life gets really tricky because the parents are all of a sudden outnumbered. Things have gotten tricky here: Baby J's parents are out of the country for 10 days and they left her with me. Because she is the most easygoing baby on the planet, it hasn't been bad - but I'm left wondering why I still have an appendix and not a third arm. C'mon Evolution!

The day before J's parents left, Phoebe got this lovely bruise on her cheek while dancing in Bruce's bed. It also happened to be the day before Phoebe's two-year doctor's appointment. Nothing like a big bruise to reassure J's parents and the doctor that I'm an involved, stable parent. In other news, Phoebe dropped a few percentiles on the growth chart and is officially on a high-calorie diet. One of her favorite phrases is "delicious butter," so we should be making weight soon.Bruce likes to tell me how big his muscles are and how he does crunches and planks in gym class. I don't think he is flexing in front of the mirror yet, but he is heading in that direction of manliness. Bruce also told me that he and Phoebe should have been twins. He said it would have been more fun that way. I told him he'd have to share a birthday cake and a party with her. "No problem," he said. "She likes Star Wars," referring to his themed birthday party. I, for one, am glad they are not twins.