I just found an email I sent to Hillary Powell in 2006:
"Well, let me tell ya. Today my first daughter was THE DEVIL. She is very very TWO. She does not seem to throw normal tantrums when she does not get what she wants, she uses this devil voice to scream at you. Picture REDRUM. Or the Exorcist. I am serious, it hurts my ears and my spine and it is NOT cute. And then Miss Maggie Belle, she has learned how to pull up in her crib but not how to get down. So her thing is to stand up the whole time she is supposed to be napping and alternately yell and giggle. And so I go up, lie her down, and before i am down the stairs, she is up again. She did not nap ALL day today. I was so aggravated when my mom called she threatened to call CPS on me and I actually told her to go ahead, I could use the break from them both. So, there goes my mother of the year award."
I did not grow up in a large family. Therefore, as a mother, much of our daily familial life is novel and surprising to me. For example, I was unaware that, in a family of seven souls, one might ask, "WHO FARTED?!?" seven, eight, perhaps even nine times in any God given day.
Watching Dead Ringer with Bette Davis
Me: I hate it when I kill my twin and assume her identity and then it turns out she had murdered her husband and then I get the death penalty....
Maggie: Everyday struggles.
One of the ways I fell for Walker: I used to get a Word of the Day emailed to me, some random word, with the definition. Periodically I would forward one to Walker and his friend Dave, and they had to compete to come up with the best sentence (which would often turn into an essay), and I would judge the winner. I would often cry, cry I tell you, CRY with laughter.