the best

We try to balance the fact that we want our kids to know we think they are the best, with the realization that others will likely not feel the same way. By striking this balance we instill in them a sense of our genuine adoration while also allowing room for the distinct possibility that we might be wrong. You know, keep them on their toes. If they can see that the world is collectively a bit more objective than us, they shouldn't have reason to get too carried away with their own greatness.

I have no reason to believe that we aren't failing.

Last week I was in the car with the girls and I heard Zoe exclaim for the back seat, "I'm so sick and tired of being so strong!" I then heard kissing noises and adjusted the rear-view mirror to find Zoe kissing her biceps repeatedly.

Lori signed the kids up for the kiddie marathon which coincides with the Illinois Marathon in a couple of weeks. When she told the kids this, Brennan got serious, then responded, "I'll probably get 2nd or 3rd. I mean, it's against all the other kids in town, right? Yeah, 2nd or 3rd."

Although, if we were failing, Brennan would have assumed 1st. And Zoe would have kissed her calf muscles. Right? Right? Good. Maybe we aren't failing after all.