Before I begin, yes. I changed my theme again. Shuttup.

I am not one of those pack rat parents. This means I barely keep anything. My husband and children have been known to “misplace” things around the house and blame me when they can’t find them. THE NERVE! Do I “misplace” those things and by “misplace” I translate to “throw away”? Yes. But that’s not the point. If it doesn’t look useful to me, I have a bad habit of minimizing the clutter. Sure, it’s organized to you. But please tell me why you needs a thousand loose Post-It notes with little writings scribble all over that may as well be hieroglyphics and scraps of paper and every piece of Happy Meal toy you’ve ever collected and the lint from your very first sock and the receipt from your first Atari console? Why? Tell me! And make it good! And then ask me how I’m supposed to act like I don’t see this menagerie of mess all over my house?! Because I know I need my eyes checked but seriously? Not that blind. ‘K?

After having Mooter, I was convinced I was done having children. Not that Booger was a surprise, because she wasn’t, but I’d done a good job of “losing” Mooter’s baby clothes. This time, I really think I did because the last I remember was having the clothes in garbage bags with the sole intention of sorting through and organizing them into plastic storage containers I would then label by year or month as it may be. And when you’re done laughing at me, you can admit you appreciate my organizational skills. Don’t be jealous. So, OK, I lost the clothes. Maybe I gave them away. I don’t know. The point is they were gone…

…All but her Halloween costumes.

This may have been done on purpose. Halloween is my favorite holiday. It happens in Fall (favorite season), the day after my birthday (I was born - yay me), and you get to dress up and be someone else. Granted, I haven’t dressed up for Halloween since I was pregnant with Mooter. But if I did, I totally would. Nowadays I get more enjoyment out of watching the other kids. There are families out there who dress up with their kids, make it a theme thing. To them I say WHY? WHY ARE YOU SCARRING YOUR POOR CHILDREN FOR LIFE? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? NO ONE WANTS TO SEE YOU DRESSED UP LIKE A GIANT HERSHEY KISS! SAVE IT FOR THE KIDS, YOU YETTI! To each his own, though, right?

So my kids are four and a half years apart. They were also born at two totally different seasons (Spring and Fall). This makes it hard to match up outfits with years and growth spurts. Mooter was not a skinny toddler while Booger is not a skinny toddler even more. What fit Mooter when she was three can, surprisingly, fit Booger at two. This may be an early warning sign that Booger’s food intake will have to be monitored throughout her life. The girl can eat and she doesn’t discriminate on anything edible. For now, I like her pudgy. More to squeeze!

Here is Mooter, circa 2004:

And, here’s Booger in the same costume, circa last Friday:

If you ask Mooter, she’ll tell you the outfit was too big on her sister. And she did. She told everyone who would listen. And while I never had one, I’m learning that’s what big sisters do. They tell you it’s OK, sure, you can borrow those black pumps I just bought all the while praying you can’t fit them then calling you a bitch when you not only can fit them but look better in them.

Yeah, kinda like that.