20/20

It's 8:45 a.m., and I already have a tray of chocolate chip cookies in the oven. Impressed? The bake-a-thon continues.

I have to take the girls to the eye doctor today. I'm terrified that Helen is going to need glasses. Ruthie is soooo good about her glasses, but I know we'd have a much harder time convincing Helen to keep them on. When her father told her she might need glasses and she would have to listen to the eye doctor, she turned to him and said "blah, blah, blah." Then she told me she wouldn't get glasses, she'd just get contacts. I'm pretty sure she isn't three. She's a fifteen year old trapped in a very tiny body. And yes, I know we're screwed.

Oh, and DH's comment when I alluded to the fact that Helen getting glasses was a possibility: "No. I'm not going to have two kids in glasses." Um, okay buddy. Let's see how you work that one out if she needs them.