Where do the weekends go?  One minute it's Friday, and the next you know it's already Monday.  Most people this morning took to twitter to curse this day.  I guess most people have a very bad case of the Mondays.  I, however, do not.  I spent my morning snuggling my little favorites and drinking my sweet goodness that is called coffee.  I actually have to measure the amount of creamer I was putting into my cup of joe, because really it was a small amount of joe with large amounts of coldstone sweet cream creamer.  Have you tried it?  Sweet. Goodness.   You'll want to drink it straight with no coffee.

Last night we watched the AMAs.  One Direction (aka one of my sister's favoritest bands ever.)  performed.  I've never seen them perform.  I enjoy texting pictures of Harry to my sister on an almost daily basis.  I don't know why, but I call it fun.   So last night I'm watching them perform for the first time, and Harry started to sing. 

Ian wasn't impressed with their performance and doesn't call them a band.  He's a hater.  Coming from a girl who was a die hard NSYNC fan, I totally get why teen girls love the 1D boys.  

Moving along backwards.  We went to church again yesterday morning.  This time we went to the later mass because that's when the younger crowd was suppose to show up.  Not the case, but there was a drummer and a bongo player, which made Max's day.   Emma was a gem.  She slept until the last 5 minutes.  She woke up with smiles, sticking out her tongue, and growling.  It was an entertaining 5 minutes for those around us.  Max was also a gem, minus the  nano second he dropped the kneeler down and it made a loud noise while everyone was sitting  quietly deep in prayer, and the small case of giggles he had.  I blame the giggles on Ian.   Jesus is watching Ian.   Oh, that's something I've been telling Max when he chooses to talk back to me, which is all the time.  Jesus is watching, Santa is watching... I think I might be scaring him by saying that.    Max was going to grab Ian's beer yesterday and I told him, "No Max, that's yucky." He responded with, "No. You yucky!" Zingers that kids throws at me.  Or if I tell him something he doesn't like, "No, don't say that word!"  Talk back all you want Max, there's a step with your name on it.  aka timeout.  aka where he sits and cries, cries, cries. aka the time Emma laughs at Max because she thinks he's putting on a show.  Funny.  Not so much.

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