It's Gettin' Weird In Here

So this little moo bear turns 10 in just a few days.  

What does that mean?  

I'm old.  

I'm confident she's going to start, or continue to finish where her siblings left off to drive me completely to the finish line of insanity.  

As G'funk would say, Oh whatever, I was partly there already and didn't have much planned anyway.  

As I was searching for a toddler photo of her with her platinum blonde hair and notorious tongue (a weak moment?) , I started reading my posts and realized what I was missing.

This blog is a life long love letter to THEM.  

That's all.  

Someday when they're raising kids of their own, wondering WTF to do and why didn't mom warn me about this, they can revisit to this blog and realize we all go into parenthood blind and with our fingers crossed, with strong young hearts ready to demolish anything, or anyone that gets in their way.

Sometimes I tend to type better than I do talk, so here it goes.

This little thing is her father.  She loves to be by his side and constantly busy.  She's easy to anger and will pick a fight with a worm if she needs to.  When she is kind, she is SO kind.  When she is pissed, she'll rip your head off.  She's a bottomless pit and won't miss a meal without feeling faint. She's protective of everyones feelings. She a snuggle buggle and can make anyone laugh at the drop of a hat with silliness.  She lives life as though there's no tomorrow.

She's also me.  She loves to be by my side and wants to know, "what are we going to do next."  She loves yard work days where we run out daylight before we can get our work done.  She loves to sweat and feel the feeling of accomplishment, exhaustion and sore muscles.  She loves animals and prefers goats to humans. She finds her relaxation in staying busy and constantly on-the-go.  She takes chances and has fun.

I

While on vacay to Utah, Molly's lips got SO chapped.  

As evidenced in this photo she looks like an Avon lady.  That dry air business is not for us.  

Yeah, this little dude caught a lizard within an hour of arriving at our compound in Utah.  

But that's not why I posted the photo. 

It's the gold chain.  

When Heather and I turned 14, G'funk bought us each a gold chain.  As I hover 42 years, I no longer want to draw attention to my neck, and Ross was in the market.  

The rest is history.

 

Meanwhile, masks have been deemed "mandatory" for I-35 return to learn plan.  

I was so excited to be the innovative teacher with the shield.  

I have hearing impaired students, for God sake and masks make it hard for ME to hear (as I realize I'm more of a lip reader than a listener),

So this showed up today and I realized I looked more like a white Walter Peyton than a teacher.  It just wasn't the look I was going for this year.  

So back to the drawing board I go...

Who knew!

And after nearly a month, Lucky's balls finally fell off.  

We were starting to wonder if he'd have a dehydrated ball sack hanging between his legs for eternity.  

Turns out, that wasn't his destiny and we captured it on a cutting board.  

We're not farmers.  

But we're not city-folk either. 

Did Ross put a castration ring around his tip of his penis and need my help cutting it off?  

You bet he did.  

This is my life, my kids and my story.

Wouldn't have it an other way...