Let's Talk Trucks

These days, I am surrounded by trucks. Mr Blue Eyes has sparked a truck revolution. Trucks have replaced the morning and afternoon car conversations of princesses, long hair and beautiful dresses.

We now talk about... Trucks!

Big Trucks and Sem-E-Trucks

Dump Trucks - which "dum-pee dirt"

We LOVE Trash Trucks

And Tractors of all shapes and sizes

School has started and we get to see a lot of School Buses. A welcomed treat.

The best days are the days we see Cement Trucks!

My Brown Eyed girl just informed me that she would like a Cement Truck on her birthday cake when she turns five... of course she did add that she would like a princess driving it. Yep you betcha! Coming right up. Thanks for letting mommy know that now. I will need the next 6 months to research where to order that one. 

All eyes peeled and on alert. Truck spotting is a contest. My Brown Eyed Girl's competitive force compels her to be the first one to spot specific trucks. She has the BEST eyes you know. 

My favorite, I am molding my two little angels into All Star Slug Bug Players!

Slug Bug White

Slug Bug Red

Old ones. New ones. 

Slug Bug Pink.

Mr Blue Eyes calls them Buggies. 

I haven't yet explained the whole slugging part. I am focusing on training their eyes while they are young. They already have the slugging part mastered. 

Trucks, Buggies and Buses! Oh My!

Back To School

Where has the summer gone?

It's August. With much anticipation, it's back-to-school time.

My Brown Eyed Girl is in Pre-K this year. She is becoming a little lady right before my eyes.

I think I had more anxiety over her starting back to school this year than I did last year. I was so worried about her this year for some reason.

Worried that she would be sad that her best friend, her blond little side kick, was not going to be in her same class this year.

Worried that she would panic because actually NONE of the other kids that were in her class last year were going to be in her same class this year.

Worried how she would handle seeing her friends turn left and head to another classroom while she had to turn right, alone.

Worried that she would be intimidated that she didn't know anyone when she walked in the room on the first day. New kids. New teachers. New room.

Worried that she would be self conscious about her stitches.

I was so worried about her that I couldn't help but cope with a little retail therapy. Not for myself, but for her. So this mommy went and bought her beautiful girl a new PURPLE dress for her first day. And a new gold bow for her hair to match her favorite pair of gold shoes.

My Brown Eyed girl was so excited. I felt a little comfort in her excitement. But I still worried.

In the morning, we curled her hair and got dressed in her pretty new outfit. I coached her all morning about how much fun the day would be. How nice her new teachers were. How awesome it was going to be to be back in school.

We took her first day of school pictures and I coached her some more about what a great day it was going to be.

She was a little nervous when we got to her class but she smiled and I kissed her and hugged her and told her to have the very best day. I told her I loved her and she made me so happy.

I was so worried about her. 

At 2:00, Mr Blue Eyes and I picked her up and she was still smiling.

We got in the car and I asked her how her day was. She said it was great. I asked her if she knew any of the kids in her class - praying someone was in her class from last year by my mistake. She said that none of the kids that were in her class were there last year. I was so worried she would be upset. I braced myself for the, "I don't want to go back there again."

But my Brown Eyed Girl just smiled and said, "But that's okay Mommy. I get to make more new friends that way."

And my heart skipped a beat. 

I underestimated my beautiful daughter's ability to light up a room and make new friends wherever she goes. I learned this week that we have to have a little faith in those little eyes.

It's going to be a GREAT school year!



"Though she be but little, she is fierce!"

~William Shakespeare

In Stitches

The hustle and the bustle of another day done drifts away as I welcome the smell of my own house. The kids hang around the garage riding bikes and I remove my jewelry as I contemplate dinner. I hear sniffles and cries from the other room. Do all children whine like mine do every evening? A prickle of frustration inching it's way into my tone as I round the corner of the hall and ask, "What's the matter now?!?!"

I am stopped dead in my tracks by the sight of blood running down my Brown Eyed Girl's face.

A million thoughts race through my mind. I don't even need a closer look but I take one anyways. It's deep. Real deep. Blood mixing with tears, I begin questioning my Brown Eyed Girl.

It looks like a bite. An Animal bite. Could there be a stray dog out there? Where is Mr Blue Eyes? "Who, or what, bit you?"

My Brown Eyed Girl whimpers and shakes her head. "Honey you have to tell Mommy. What. Happened?"

"Boji..."

"BOJI???? What? Boji did this? Boji bit you? What did you do to him?"

"Nothing..." of course

Good grief. I can't believe what I just heard. I just can't believe it. Boji?!?! The worlds BEST dog just bit my daughter. And not just a little nip. Bad. I just don't know what to think anymore.

More blood was running down her face now. Trying to remain calm, I try to decide what comes first.

I know I come from a long line of over-reactors. But in moments of crisis, I don't care who you are. There is a lot to prioritize in an emergency. Especially when it's your beautiful little girl staring up at you with tear filled eyes, a gash on her face and blood running down her cheek.  

I walked a fine line between a chicken with her head cut off and a rational being as I told her to stand in the kitchen cupping her hand under her chin to catch the blood. I dashed off to the bathroom looking for a clean, dark colored washcloth while snatching my flip flops in a drive-by shuffle. I attempted to clean her up enough to avoid blood from getting everywhere and instructed her to hold the damp cloth firmly over her eye.

I buckled two crying kids - Mr Blue Eyes was crying out of confusion - in the car and was off to the emergency room. On the way I called for Grandma reinforcements and then let Handy Man know what had happened. He was really shocked. I couldn't explain it to him anymore than I could understand it myself.

I poked and prodded her in my best "good cop" fashion and it took the entire 20 minute ride to the hospital for her to finally admit that she had squeezed and pulled Boji's tail. No wonder Boji snapped at her. The poor dog had just had surgery a little over a week ago to remove a non-cancerous tumor from his rectum. Still recovering himself - I don't blame him one bit. 

Super Grandma was waiting for us as we pull up. I checked us in and we are taken back to a room. The doctor comes in and we give him the scoop and try to stay calm for my Brown Eyed Girl. The bleeding has stopped and she turns up her inner actress as the doctor examines her eye.

The doctor leaves and we are waiting for the nurse to come back and start with the numbing agent to numb her up so they can flush out the wound.

I asked her to hold still so I could get a picture to send to Grandpop and Rah Rah.

You would have thought she had been mangled by a tiger. Eye ball hanging by a thread. The saddest, most pitiful expression on her face. Death was surely near.

I asked her to not make a sad face but to just look 'normal' for Mommy...

Normal... or possessed?!?!??

I just love that inner actress

Daddy arrives just before the nurse comes back in to flush out the wound. We started talking about the turn of events and Handy Man just couldn't picture Boji biting our Brown Eyed Girl - even if she had tormented him. The more I sat there thinking it over while we waited, the more I started questioning her little story. I mean, Boji is an 80 pound lab with large canine teeth that have been word down after years of chewing on bones, sticks and balls.

All of a sudden, I turned to my Brown Eyed Girl and said, "Or was it Kitty that bit you?"

Her face was startled. I took her by surprise. She turned her lips into a deep frown and nodded her head as she admitted, "It. Was. Miss Kitty."

"The Kitty bit you?"

She nodded.

At four, she knew she was in trouble and she had tried to lie her way out of the mess. She just wasn't skilled enough at four to realize that all she did was trade one animal for another. A poor animal she had harassed enough that it finally bit her in self defense. It made sense now. Looking back, She was carrying the poor cat around like a sack of potatoes in the garage. I had told her to leave the cat alone as I brought in the mail and headed to my room to remove my jewelry.

The tiny pin-point bite marks near her eyebrow made more sense now. And there was a scratch on her wrist as well. A very thin, cat scratch looking scrape.

Oh Miss Kitty! It is really amazing that the most patient and tolerant farm cat has stuck around this long. Poor Kitty has been sat on, laid on, hair pulled, tail pulled, smacked roughly pet, and drug all over the place by my two children.

And yet she waits for us every day to get home.  Mews and purrs and loves on us. She truly is a saint.

I don't blame Miss Kitty one bit!

Of course then I had to to go out and tell the doctor, "Hi. So funny thing, we have a change in our story and it appears that the cat is actually to blame... not our dog. I guess out cat bit her in the face."

Mother of the year award! "Hi, not sure which one of my face biting animals bit my kid but can you stitch her up for me? Thanks!"

Parenthood...

The poor kid had to get sprayed in the face with two big bottles of saline rinse. Animal bites can harbor a lot of bacteria.

Once my Brown Eyed Girl got the hang of it, she even allowed herself to smile.

Cleaned, the doctor and nurse returned and it was time for stitches.

It took two of us to hold her still in order for the doctor to work his magic and stitch her closed. Unfortunately for me I was happy to help, but I just couldn't watch...

A lot of screaming and shouting could be heard from our room. My Brown Eyed Girl did NOT like being held down one bit. When she was done, the poor kid was soaking wet from sweating and had a mini panic attack. I felt so sorry for the little bug.

But purple popsicles fix everything!

Daddy hugs and pink band-aids help too.

First stitches in the books!

The next day she was a little bruised.

But when life hands you lemons and stitches, just put on your best princess dress and jewelry and dance the day away.

Another great entry for the baby book!

How to...

make a smoothie when you realize that you threw your old blender away when you moved.

Step one - cuss

Step two - put beautiful frozen berry medley you just bought back in the freezer. 

Step three - thank your lucky stars you have fresh raspberries as a back up in the fridge

Step four - mash raspberries by hand with a fork and wonder if this is how the cave men made smoothies.

Step four - add non-fat yogurt, milk, smashed raspberries and fiber pack together in a plastic cup.

Step six - learn to count...

Step seven - whisk with a fork vigorously. 

(I mean vigorously without spilling or splashing.)

Next Step... Buy another blender. 

My Brother, My Sister, My Friend

In front of a camera when mommy is paying for pictures, I am thankful that my Brown Eyed Girl and Mr Blue Eyes appear to be the most angelic siblings on the planet.

In reality, these two fight like cats and dogs lately. Hitting. Smacking. Teasing. Snatching toys. Is this a normal milestone? Couldn't I just get like one more year of peace?

Our morning commute echos, "Mommy! Tell him to quit making that sniffing noise!", "Mommy! Tell him to quit looking out my window!", "Top! Top! (singing sissy)"

Every evening I find myself drinking telling them to quit fighting. 

It's a little overwhelming...

But then on a very rare night my Brown Eyed Girl said, "Brother, I love you. Come sit with me and snuggle."

Awwwe

 So adorable!

So uncomfortable looking...

They really do still love each other!

And then she told him, "Get off of me now you are breaking my lap!" and life resumed as normal.

When We Grow Up

Isn't it funny how growing up we swear to or BFF's that we will be friends fooor-Ev-errr. Nothing could tear us apart. We supported each other in the trials and tribulations of our adolescence. We hung out, laughed and played hard until the sun came up. This was the time of our lives. Nothing could ever change.

Then something happens after the caps and gowns are folded and placed in memory boxes and the summer of eighteen comes to an end.

For my generation - a generation before Facebook and Twitter and social media... before cell phones were as common as chewing gum - life after high school enveloped each of us individually and eventually time slipped away. Connections were lost.

Some attended college. Some went right to work. Some traveled the world. Some stayed close to home. Some got married. Some started families. And before any of us knew it, fifteen years had passed us by.

Two weeks ago I spent an incredible night catching up with the adult version of my adolescence.

 

Teachers. Business professionals. Mothers. Fathers. Husbands. Wives. Each one of us was thriving in a very adult world. 

As we shared our life stories over the last fifteen years and watched our children play together in the yard, I couldn't help but feel so much love inside. A truly amazing and humbling experience. The more we talked, the more I felt like it had just been a few weeks before that we had been climbing The Rock together or hanging out at The Cove. Sneaking beer and following each other to a party down the road. 

We exchanged numbers, made promises to do it all again and hugged as we buckled up our families at the end of the night. 

That night was all I could think about for two days after. My mind was flooded with memories - funny stories, close calls, adventures, celebrations. Although so much time had passed and I missed out on their special moments, I can't help but be so proud of each one. So honored to catch up and see what their beautiful lives have become.

Oh My Mudd

Handy Man and I have started so many summer landscaping projects this year on the new house. Several of which are still incomplete. For example, we planned to sod the area where the old pond used to be.

A quick lesson in the repercussions of procrastination when you have children. 

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

Exhibit C

Actually we might have to address another parenting shortcoming ... We do not paint brothers with mud.

Exhibit D