Monday, November 30, 2015

Dragons and Dinos and Cattle, Oh My!

Kenyon and John spent a Saturday evening at Grandma Curry's house recently and played with their cousins for a few hours.  It was a nice evening so I decided to walk between our houses in the dark to go pick them up from their evening of fun.  No flashlight, no cell phone, nothing but the nearly-full moon.

On the walk back, some cattle rustled in the tall pasture grass just a few feet from the road where we walked.  Kenyon instantly froze and searched for the source of the noise.

"Mom," he said.  "I think I heard a dragon."

"Really?  I didn't think we had any dragons around these parts."  I replied.

"Well, maybe not a dragon.  Maybe a dinosaur."

Consider yourselves warned, folks.  We have the most treacherous 50 yard stretch of road in Greenwood County.

Saturday, November 28, 2015

Life Lately




It's shameful that all of these photos recap our indoor activities and not more outdoor happenings.  Truth be told, it's been too cold and too windy to get the baby outside much.  I have a feeling this is going to be a very long winter for all of us. 
You know how there are those people in life you can't talk to until they have had a drink of their morning coffee?  This is Kenyon's version.  Don't talk to him until he's had his morning juice and read his Highlights magazine. 

Coloring is serious work. Seriously.

I wasn't joking.  If this kid is forced to be inside, he will be coloring the majority of that time.

Or reading.  Coloring and reading are our preferred indoor entertainment activities.  Notice his selection for a little light nighttime reading?  He borrowed it from Grandma Curry.  Natural Medicines and Cures.  Apparently he is into homeopathic medicine.  Who knew?

Man time.  Once again, ruined by the mom and her camera phone.
John and Kenyon love to hang out together.  If we could only keep this up for the next 70 years or so...
Be still my heart.  Kenyon likes to crawl up into the recliner in the evenings and ask if baby John can come sit with him.

This would be an auntie hangover.  Two of his aunties came over and played with him one Saturday.  After they left he attempted to walk across the living room, which apparently required too much effort.  He fell over mid-stride and stayed exactly like this for the next 50 minutes.

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Laundry

Doing laundry is one of those fun, never-ending tasks that most every wife experiences on a routine basis.  I dutifully check my husband's pockets on his jeans with each and every load.  I never find anything very interesting or of much value; just a handful of change here or a pocket knife there.  

My two year old son is now old enough that he has discovered the magical wonderfulness of pockets.  
Behold: a calf's horn recovered from next to the processing chute, destined for many a grand adventure travelling from treasure box to toy box to toy pickups and where ever else a two year old can think to take such an awesome toy.  


New house rule: horns may only be brought into the house once they are hollowed out and no longer have traces of blood on them.  

Doesn't everyone have rules like this?

Monday, November 9, 2015

Perspective

I wanted to give this post a title with some sort of alliteration (Way Back When); however, the title would be completely misleading.  This really wasn't all that long ago.  A mere 8 weeks, give or take a few days.  

We had a measuring contest, my dad and I, and I'm not sure if I won or if I lost.  

I could say that I 'won' because my belly grew to this gargantuan size in a mere 9 months, whilst it has taken my dear ol' daddy decades to achieve the same feat...


...Or I could say that I 'lost' because, well, it took me a mere 9 months for my belly to grow to this gargantuan size whilst it has taken my dear ol' daddy decades to achieve the same feat.

Perspective, my dear friends.  Perspective. 

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Our New Normal

Slowly but surely we are all adjusting to our new normal around here.

Kenyon has been wonderful with his brother 96% of the time.  Not 95%, not 97%, just 96%.  He loves to bring me my nursing pillow, pat the burps out of baby John, hold baby John, kiss baby John... pretty much anything that involves his baby John.

Wes has been great with everything as well.  He takes Kenyon with him often during the day while he feeds, doctors, mechanics, farms... pretty much anything.  It is fun to watch Kenyon walk into the house after a long morning of work with his dad.  Some days his chest is puffed up like a banty rooster so much I'm afraid he's going to tip over backwards.

John is a pretty great baby.  He never fusses unless he's hungry.  Although he seems to be hungry nearly every single hour, I don't want to complain.  I'd much rather have a healthy baby with an endless appetite than a baby that has difficulty latching or a reflux condition.  My heart aches for mamas that have troubles like that with their babies.

And then there's this mama.  The breast milk provider.  The professional diaper changer.  The laundry lady.  Exactly one week after having baby John, a neighbor called to see if I was 'done with my little vacation yet' and ready to run more snap tests for him.  I couldn't even be mad.  I just chuckled and thought to myself, "If by 'vacation' you mean expelling something the size of a bowling ball from my uterus and living to tell the tale, then yes, I am done with my 'vacation'."  So in between loads of laundry, feeding the bottomless pit that is my youngest child, cooking for the other two males and running snap tests, I occasionally write a blog post or two.  Whether or not they are grammatically correct or even semi-coherent is irrelevant.  Whether or not they are timely is also inconsequential.  This particular post was started in mid-October according to my records.  Whoopsidaisies.

Long story short, we are all surviving and actually beginning to thrive again.  Hallelujah.