Have you met my ugly daughters?

What a way to begin a blog, eh? (my Canadian roots coming out) Tonight was book club. We reviewed a book called the Persian Pickle Club. Very good book, 1 1/2 thumbs up. At any rate, during our discussion we got to talking about kids, puberty, sex, and all things unpleasant when you're the mother of young children, who would never possibly be involved in any of these things. After hearing horror story after horror story of unwed mothers, and a declining morality despite proper upbringing, I have come to a conclusion. I wish my girls were as ugly as sin for at least the next 15-20 years- I'm talking buckteeth, acne, frizzy hair, 'sweet-spirit' ugly. So ugly that no boy would ever think to even look twice at them, much less think to take a gander below her neck. Oh, Yeah, and no breast development AT ALL until they had their first baby. I would take these years to develop their stunning personalities, and faithful, selfless spirits. Then all of a sudden (when all of the boys their age have decently matured- say 30 or so), when the time was right, they would transform into these beautiful, stunning women- both inside and out. The Ugly Hepworthlings. But, no. We get stuck with these georgeous little girls, with beautiful blue eyes, and curly red hair (and straight). It's a good thing they know how to burp, that's for sure. What a sin it is to be burdened with these beautiful children, but I guess I'm preaching to the choir now, aren't I?

Today Ava officially crawled. yip. pe. Not very excited. I figured out she learned how to crawl while I was on the phone with my Mom and she almost pulled the white grandfather clock on her. How I love this stage. Not. Yesterday, she also spoke her first non-mama/dada/baba word. While waving at people at the store, I kept saying "Hi!" and she would repeat it. In this sing-songy voice she'll say "Eye!". Well, actually more like "IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!". Very cute.

I caught Enoch wearing his Sunday socks to school today. Don't think they've been off his feet since Sunday. We learned a song on our trip to Kansas that says, "Black socks, they nevery get dirty the longer you wear them the stronger they get. Sometimes, I think I should wash them, but something inside me keeps saying-'not yet, not yet, not yet, not yet'". Fun song, huh? Someday I'll tell you about the one called "Fish Guts".

As most of you know, we're expecting our sixth child sometime around the end of December. Yes, a blog/birth announcement. For those of you who didn't know, don't worry. I'm just kidding. Scott's having his tubes tied, and I'm thinking of getting a vasectomy. Until those procedures are completed, we'll just keep the kids locked in the house tormenting each other. That should work. Or maybe I'll have a birthday party and invite all of Enoch's class. That would work, as well.