it's about time.

When my house is really messy, as it usually is, I become overwhelmed with the task in front of me and enter into a sort of housework paralysis. Same thing happens with blogging. I have so much to tell you but don't quite know where to begin.

I've felt the need for some privacy over the last few months after a couple of extremely stressful online interactions, right smack in the middle of the worst of Phil's treatment. Thankfully those situations have simmered down and I now feel ready to jump back in. Wheee! And oh, how I've missed putting all my business out there for you all to see.

Ocean will be five in February which is straight ridonkulous. He's in preschool now three mornings a week and loves it. I also love it. It's a lovely thing when I can miss my kids for a few hours a week. Ocean was a spirited baby but he's calming down a lot the older he gets. He loves art and always wants to make something out of boxes, leaves, plastic cups, whatever. He's a little obsessed with super heroes and plays Heroes with his friends at school... but he will only be the good guy, his teacher tells me. He loves his sisters and adores his daddy. I find that delightful. It's also delightful to hear him and Iris sing "California Girls", because he says, "California girls, they're unreliable..." and watching Iris throw her hands up while singing, "West Coast represent..." almost sends me over the edge.

Which brings me to Iris. That one almost completely defies labels. She's like a caricature of herself. My friend Lindsay calls her a Walking Contradiction and that about says it all. She wears gold glittery shoes and Lightning McQueen underwear, is terrified of dolls but babies the crap out of a toy shark and falls asleep in a race car bed while sniffing her stuffed duck's beak. She's all about autonomy ("I want to do it MYSELF!") but has no problem asking me to carry her around the house because "my legs are tired!" She never. shuts. up. and will talk circles around you until she gets her way. Once, during a 15-minute car ride, she said I want my ducky over 157 times. We started counting only after she'd said it at least a dozen.

Ruby is six months old. SIX! MONTHS! What the hecks, guys?! She's been such a peach. She smiles at everyone and is pretty much just happy to be acknowledged. She rolls around the floor and dominates the Jumperoo on the regular and might sit up by the time she's a year old. But maybe not as she seems perfectly content to lay around and watch Her Kids run around as milk dribbles down her chin and oh, by the way, can you change my poopy diaper? I'll giggle at you and try to eat your face off. Thanks! Goo! My goodness, I just want to eat her up.

Phil is finishing up the last leg of treatment, but it looks like he'll have a couple more cycles of chemo than we initially thought. I'm sure he'll blog about that over there soon.

And me? I'm settling into our new routine, am back to doing things I love like cooking and couponing (and blogging-- whutttt) and have started to maybe figure out this parenting-three-kids thing.

Or maybe not. But you'll probably be hearing more about it now.

Please say hi if you're still out there, homies. I'll be back catching up on your blogs too. It's been too long and I've missed you all.