Twins

This is me and my Emma checking out a lighthouse in Salem, Massachusetts:

As my small fan base would know, we went to Salem around Halloween with my friend Renee and her kids.  Unlike Hannah, Emma still likes me and doesn't seem to mind all the adventures I make her go on with me.  In fact, every Sunday, I try to take my kids to someplace new so that we can grow to appreciate Rhode Island and the rest of New England fully.  I call it our Sunday Adventure and Emma will often ask me what I have planned ahead of time. She also seems genuinely disappointed if we have to miss an adventure day.  Everyone thinks Emma looks just like me but I just can't see it.

Even though I don't believe that Emma "looks just like you..." she has inherited my inability to keep anything a secret.  If there is anything that she knows that might at all be embarrassing, improper, or questionable, she vomits it out to the first person that will lend her an ear.  She's ratted me out for being commando, pooping my pants, telling complete strangers about all the horrible things I've done to my siblings... seriously, no detail is too minute for her to keep track of or blurt out at just the right time.

I realized she had begun to transcend her tattle tale mentality when she began to vomit every detail about her own life to anyone that would listen...

With this step, she has begun a tradition in her own life that was started generations before her and I couldn't be more excited about it!  This is a picture of my paternal grandma Camilla with her first baby:


This woman was famous for sharing everything.  My favorite story was when she knew she needed to go to the bathroom while she was mowing the lawn one day.  She kept holding it because she needed to finish the mowing and before you knew it, she had pooped her pants.  Any person labeled "normal" by traditional society would have washed her shame away and hid the evidence from everyone.  Not Camilla D.  That lovely lunatic cleaned up and immediately let her next door neighbor know all the gory details.  Fantastic.

Then of course, there's this lady:

I don't think I need to expand here.  I have plenty of blogging hours under my belt to prove where I stand on the issue...

Yesterday, I had to take Emma to the pediatrician because I thought she might have a bladder infection.  Given that she's 11 and hasn't mastered the art of solo urine collection, she requested I go in to help her.  The collection was going well until she suddenly let go with a large burst of pee and before I knew it, she had whizzed all over my hand.  I teased her about it a bit and thought that would be the end of it until I noticed she had sent this text to her sister Kayley:

My heart beamed.  Especially because she gave Kayley no context.  If I had not chimed in and discussed what was going on, it would have left the door open for all sorts of interpretation.  In like fashion, I publically announced Emma's triumph to the world:

However, I realized later when my friend Kareena texted back to insinuate I was pregnant, that I forgot to mention Emma in the snap.  Therefore, it looks like I peed on my own hand.  Just to teach Emma that shame hanging around bodily functions does not belong in our lives, I only clarified the situation to Kareena.  That's right Emma, all my Snapchat friends think I peed on my hands and I don't care!  Keep up the good work little gremlin, you're well on your way to becoming my twin inside and out (for those that can see the out part).  Just please don't tell anyone I'm pregnant...