Return of the Mack.

Arguably the best song ever written, don't you agree? It's also my new blog anthem. It might even be the title of my new blog. Do you like this picture of me? Am I smising (tell me Tyra, AM I?)? Look at me, getting all ahead of myself. First things first. I have news.

Guess what?

I'm pregnant!

I'm alive!

I'm back!

Okay, so the first statement is a flat-out lie. (Mr. K, if you're reading this, you can start breathing again.) But I thought I should try to get your attention since I've been away for, oh, I dunno, EIGHT MONTHS? And besides, the other two sentences are true. I am in fact, alive! And at least for now, I'm back!

Confession. I haven't even been to this site, MY OWN DAMN BLOG for months because it stressed me out to see when I last posted. I'm so sorry to have left without a word, I have had the worst bloggers block of my life. And it's not because I haven't had a lot going on, or things I've wanted to write about, but because I just couldn't bring myself to blog. It's really that simple. I've barely even been reading blogs for the past eight months. I honestly don't know what was up, but I'm back and I have a lot to say. Brace yourselves to get reacquainted with The Notorious MVK!

Among the biggest changes to take place at Maison Piglets is that Piglet started Montessori school in January. He was ready. He asked over and over when he could go to school with his cousin Carson. So we visited and he loved it so we enrolled him two days a week, which within a week, turned into five days a week. Against all my expectations (screaming, flailing, thrashing) he rocked it. He let go of my hand and didn't look back. After all, he had water to measure and letters to trace and well, thanks for all the attachment parenting, but I'm outtie yo. The night before his parent teacher conference Mr. K and I made a list of questions for the director. We prepared for the worst. What was she going to say?! The suspense was killing us.

"Piglet pushes."

"Piglet grabs."

"Piglet runs with scissors."

Not that he does any of this at home, nu-uh, no way. At home, he never ever pushes his brothers or, say, smacks them on the head when they try to drink his bevie. Of course not. Riiiight.

So we walked in and sat down and I opened up the note I had saved on my phone with our list of questions and concerns.

"Piglet picks on his cousin sometimes."

"Piglet can be inconsistent with his counting and ABCs."

The director sat down, looked at us very seriously, almost gravely and said, "I'm not sure I should tell you this." And our hearts sank. OMG. She was going to lower the boom. My mind was racing. What could it be? It must be baaaaad. I thought the worst. Piglet is delayed. Piglet has no friends. Piglet...

"is remarkable."

Oh crap! We were worried about that! We can work on it, we can, WAIT.

What?

And then she went on.

"Never in my 40 years of teaching have I met another child like Piglet. The richness of his vocabulary, the way he infers things just by observing others, the concern he shows for his peers, his incredible memory. The other teachers and I talk about him daily. He is a very special child. We have no doubt he is going to do well in life."

And then Mr. K and I died. She said more but all we kept hearing in our heads was "Never in my 40 years of teaching..."

And as we left the school, we both could barely hold it together before boohooing a little. Our little Piglet? That round faced little monkey? Remarkable? 40 years of teaching? What. The. What. We decided that we were just going to keep this information to ourselves. Lock it away and cherish it, just the two of us. Then we drove the 1/2 mile to my parents house and ran in and told them all about it. And after we did that, Mr. K called his parents and told them too. And then his sister. We're so mature like that.

So that's one little snapshot into what's been going on over here. We've been grooming Piglet to be the next Dalai Lama, President of the United States (who wants THAT crappy job?), Nobel Peace Prize winner, you know, the usual. Also, I have been obsessively watching saved episodes of G.lee on TiVo. Oh and there's the little business of the Twinks to you know, keep ALIVE. More on that later.

For now, know that we are trotting along, growing, thriving and before I forget, MOVING. That's right, Mr. K and I are taking on a remodel. Well, actually it's really me and Mr. K feigns interest when I tell him I've narrowed the wallpaper down to three choices. So first you got to follow me as I stumbled through first-time motherhood, then trying to get pregnant, then getting pregnant with twins, then puking my brains out for 36 weeks and then dropping off the face of the earth and now the joys of REMODELING.

Can you STAND it?

Here's a teaser, at my meeting today with the contractor he told me he found asbestos in the walls. Last week it was a decommissioned oil tank with enough contaminated soil around it to fill three dump trucks. All of course, not accounted for in the original budget. HOORAY FOR OLD HOUSES! Wheeeeeeeee!

P.S. I'm so happy to be back with you, my peeps. I've missed you. xoxoxo