No, my name is MARTIN.

Wow, it's been a long month. Notice the lack of posts last month? Yep, there's a reason. Here it is.

The in-laws took Philosopher Child and Viking Toddler for 3 weeks out of state to their home. Awesome, right? I was so excited for the quiet. But, having never been without my kids for more than over night (and that was only one of them, not both), as we got closer to the time, I got anxious. Then I started getting panic attacks. In short, was sick to my stomach for much of that three weeks. Sucked.

But, they are home now. We flew out to get them and we all arrived back in our little but well loved house late last night.

But you know what's fun? Airport security. More specifically, going through airport security with children with imaginations. See, our kids have been watching Wild Kratts lately (warning, there's music when you open that link), and Viking Toddler has been telling everyone that his name is Martin, as in Martin Kratt. Hint, it's not. So, as we got to the entrance to security, a TSA agent was scrutinizing our licenses very, very close with a very suspicious eye. He looked at Philosopher Child and said, "Is your name [Philosopher Child]?" Philosopher Child dutifully nodded. The agent then looked at Viking Toddler and asked, "Is your name [Viking Toddler]?"

And then our dear, sweet Viking Toddler said, "No, my name is Martin." When I'm watching toys get removed from babies' hands and grandmothers patted down, this is not the time for that sort of humor. But, funny in hindsight.