(Clever Title)

Okay, I'm a little embarrassed about being such a Debbie Downer in my last post (you're right, Jane)  Wa wa for me, healthy, normal kids, boo hoo.  I know, I know.  I'm just a little depressed.  Post-partum lasts a LONG time.  And no, Anne, not in a million years would I (purposely) get pregnant again.  I was nuts during pregnancy.  And you know what nobody ever tells you about having babies?  After you pop that kid out you lose TONS of hair.  I lost my bangs.  Like, all of my bangs.  I had to comb hair from my crown to cover the fuzzy bald patches.  I looked like Jane Pauley for years after having both my kids.  I can't pull off that look anymore. 

I could take my sister's baby.  In fact, just today she told me that if she dies I can choose which one of her girls I get.  My other sister gets the one I don't pick.  They are both pretty good.  Watch your back, Beth. 

On second thought, Beth, try to hang on until they are out of diapers, ok?

So what have I been doing to ward off the post-partum depression?  I've been making terrariums! 

Mini-terrariums. 

Many, many mini terrariums

My dad thinks I need a job.  I think I need more terrariums.

BTW, thank you so much to Yandie at Inspiriation strikes.  In the Kneecaps. for the mention on her blog today.  For the record, my pre-teen infatuations were with Doctor Bricker from the Love Boat,

and Trapper John M.D.

And it really wasn't fair that all the Tiger Beat magazines were full of Leif Garret and Simon LeBon and NOT ONE had a spread on Pernell Roberts or Bernie Kopell!  It was BULLSHIT!