The one where I try convince myself that my children ARE actually my kids.

Benjamin has a lot of me in him all over the place. Since he was born, my mom was all HE LOOKS LIKE YOUR BROTHER PAUL and I was all "Whatever he looks like me. Quiet." I was obsessed with Benjamin looking like me because Noah looks EXACTLY like Graeme although many people say he looks like me too. I hope he has my nose (HAVE YOU SEEN DADDY'S NOSE?) and I think he might have my mouth but probably not. I am basically just gunning for the nose there.

So I was adamant for at least one of my children from MY uterus with MY eggs from MY ovaries would actually resemble me in some way. Although I love my sons with equal abandon, I am jealous of all the "Awww he looks JUST like you" attention that Graeme gets, and that stupid gushy look of pride on his face that makes me want to shoot rabbits. I FREAKIN LOVE RABBITS. Granted Noah could have done a lot worse, Graeme is gorgeous and pretty much perfect (except for his nose) so there's that. 

I just really wanted one of my own children to also look like me so I can go "Awww cuuuuute, he has my eyelashes." Really, anything that proves that I was actually pregnant and unable to drink wine, eat sushi, jump on trampolines or go down water slides for almost two years would be GREAT.  Sacrifices and all. Funny how badly you want to jump on a trampoline after a pregnancy book tells you that you can't. I'm so mature guys, you don't know. 

So yesterday my mom dug through the old white leather giant handbag of photos and sent me these. These are all of my brother Paul. Apparently now that Bunny had a haircut, he APPARENTLY looks even MORE like Paul and not actually that much like me anymore. First picture is of Benjamin's new do, and the rest are all Paul. LIKE WHATEVER GUYS I DON'T CARE (I hate everyone).