Apparently, It's Genetic. Like Blue Eyes Or Webbed Feet.

So my boys started a blog.

It's not like I didn't see it coming. I mean, I've had this thing for half of their lives. Of course, they didn't know I had it until their father found out, which was more like 1/4 of their lives ago, but once they DID know, they were all over it.

At first, they didn't quite understand what it was. And then they realized it was them, and they wanted to read it All. The. Time. And then they got bored of it, and then it became this big, running joke. "Oh, 2of3, you wish you didn't do that! Mom is totally going to put it on her blog!" And then it became a competition. "Mom, put this on your blog! 3of3 was on there 5 times this month but you haven't talked about me at all!"

And now they're getting a little too old to e-cuddle and they really want to be on Facebook and I'll let them do many various age-completely-inappropriate things but Facebook ain't nevah gonna be one of them, so they did the one thing every child does best.

They did like I do.

They started a blog.

They had a co-conspirator some help. They have this little friend online who they got to meet in real life a few months ago and when that happened, grand and very expensive birthday parties were planned and blogs were forged out of marshmallow and flame. Or dessert was, either way.
Just In Case
The birthday party? Fat chance, kids.  The blog, however? Yeah, that just happened.