When a man loves a woman ...

Someone seriously needs to tell the Spears girls how babies are made.

*In other romantic news, I'm reviewing the HP Photosmart 626 Printer over here and it gets a little racy.

Change of (birthing) plans

This weekend I became a mother of three. No, I'm not expecting, nor did I kidnap two youngsters, though don't you think I should get custody of Britney's kids? I mean, is K-Fed really the best choice out there? I think Justin or I should get them.

What I did do this weekend was offer to watch my favorite shopping friend's twins for a night.

(Cue ominous music.)

(Cue ominous music to shut off because it wasn't that bad. Also, because I hate ominous music this early in the morning.)

When I mention watching the "twinnies," a few people have asked me if it made me never want to have more children. But it didn't. Instead, it sort of made me want to have twins, which is basically blasphemy since I've been posing an anti-mulitiples campaign against my uterus for several years.

First off, it dawned on me that while FSF and I have both gone through childbirth once, she gets double credit. Which means that she will likely finish up her family at least a pregnancy ahead of me, while I'm still bloated and contemplating, "Three or four?" Also, she is totally entitled to space her next child way off in the distance - like 15 years, so back off, people!

Also, twins keep each other company. While Miss Dub was whining for her bunny and picking her poop out of her diaper and throwing it in my face (seriously!!), the twins were happily hanging out with each other. In fact, in my frazzled state I may or may not have put everyone to bed a good 30 minutes early, and they happily chatted with each other for an hour while Miss Dub crankily cried from another room to join their fun.

Finally, twins are apparently less aware of their surroundings because they are so focused on each other. Because how else can I explain the fact that the female twinnie called me "Ma-ma" the entire time? I mean, FSF and I may share matching blonde bobs, but I'd hardly call us twins. One of us is skinnier and taller. And a mother to twins.

Although, she did close her eyes and scream bloody murder every time Mr. Dub got near her.

Anyway, I think I'm going to give my uterus some more options when it comes time to have another Li'l Miss or Li'l Mister. Because sitting on the couch, cuddling with three kids, felt really good, and I don't know if I can endure TWO more pregnancies to feel such joy.

But I draw the line at triplets. That's just obnoxious.

Now, come to Mama, Sean Preston!