Welcome to a Bunch of Crazy

Mr. Kade's super long banana feet.

During the few pauses that Kenyon has each day, they must be spent reading.  I have never seen a child so young be so addicted to reading.  

This picture is just too much.  I can't even make a proper caption for it.  

I had to take his picture and show it to him as proof that he did matter, even if he will no longer be the absolute center of attention in our family anymore.  

All that practice petting Grandma Curry's kitty very gently paid off.  (I tried not to mention to Kara how many times Kenyon picked up the kitty with his hands around her neck.  She doesn't need to know everything.)  

I told you he was simply scrumptious.   

Kenyon likes to kiss.  Big ol', full on, hunk-a-hunk-a burning love kisses.  

He had to look into Auntie Kara's mouth to be sure that, in fact, there was no child still hanging out down in her belly.   

Kade

God gave us a new little nephew yesterday.  Baby Kade is simply scrumptious.  I forgot how tiny babies are.  Seriously, it freaked me out a bit at first.  There is no way that Kenyon was ever that tiny.  He looked like a monster next to Kade.  I think we'll start backing him off the implants soon; he was so freakishly large compared to the little baby.

I got to hold baby Kade while my sister took a well deserved nap in her hospital bed.  I could have held him forever.   He felt light as a feather and fit into my arms so well.  These days, cuddling with Kenyon can feel like cuddling with an anvil, he's so heavy and LARGE.

How could you not fall in love with this guy?  

Tough Times

If our child learns absolutely nothing else during his formative, adolescent years, it will be durability and survivalism.  And yes, I realize that survivalism is not a universally accepted word, Webster.

Yesterday was a tough day for Kenyon.  After our morning run we stopped by Great Grandma Curry's house so I could get some of my ground hamburger out of her freezer.  (If you will recall, my freezer is filled with important things like blanched tomatoes.)  When I left Kenyon on the main floor with Grandma he looked fine.  It took all of one minute for me to run into the basement, grab my hamburger and run back up.  When I got back into the living room I noticed that he had a large red circle around his left eye.  The tell-tale markings of a soon to be bruised and black eye.  Both Kenyon and Grandma Curry looked at me with the typical 'I don't know what happened, ask him/her' look.

Yesterday afternoon was minimally windy and I decided to re-stain my porch posts.  You know, because I have projects in the shop that NEED done and I am a master of procrastination.  (This is also why I decided to sort through tons of Kenyon's outgrown clothes during naptime, but I digress.)  One minute Kenyon was quietly playing on the other side of the porch with some rocks and the next minute I looked down to see him up to his elbows in a gallon of stain.  Fun fact, Redwood stain is pretty on wood but will make your child look like an Oompa Loompa.  And yes, Kenyon's rock that he refused to relenquish looked very pretty in Redwood stain as well.  Apparently everything looks good with Redwood stain, minus humans.

Since staining posts with a mobile child proved to be a futile effort, I decided to finally move into the shop.  Kenyon was happy to keep playing on the porch and I was happy to leave him barely around the corner out of eyesight but definitely within earshot.  I would have been more firm in making him stay in the shop with me, but we experienced a rather unfortunate incident in the early morning hours involving dog food and his mouth.  Don't ask.

I was happily gluing away on some school desks when I heard a confused whimper of sorts.  Kind of a I'm not hurt but I don't know what's going on type sound.  I ran out onto the porch to find that Kenyon had crawled onto my rock border surrounding the porch where all my pretty flowers grow (in the absence of grasshopper invasions).  He had somehow fallen onto his back and was wedged between two large rocks.  No worries, though, he had fallen into my oat grass and was resting semi-comfortably in the midst of it.  For a split second I debated about running into the house and grabbing my camera.  No worries though, folks, as my mother-of-the-year instincts kicked in and I rescued my beloved from his stuck-as-a-turtle incident.

Add to all of this a few slips on the concrete floors from dripping sippy cups and it is safe to say that this child had better learn to toughen up pretty quickly.

Sunday Funday

"Lady, why don't you build me a processing table for when we're working cattle." Said the husband.

"Sure thing" said no wife ever.

.....Okay, maybe one wife said sure thing. It may be ugly, but this table is sturdy and successfully checked off the honey-do list now.

Minor Meltdown

Kenyon is getting his very own room someday soon (we hope).  We've talked to a contractor and hopefully he can get something built for our sweet little chitlin before the first snow flies.  Therefore, it is my duty as his mother to make sure it is absolutely perfectly decorated.

Actually, I don't think there will be much decorating going on.  But, I found a really cool way to make signs (thank you, Pinterest) and now I am bound and determined that his room will contain a bed for my son and a really cool sign to hang above his head.  Priorities, right?

So I took this picture one day this summer offhandedly and whipped this little ditty up:

I happen to absolutely love it.  The little saying is from a poem I wrote when I was in elementary school.  If I could find the rest of it written somewhere I would try to make it into a book, but that would involve finding the dang thing first!

I digress.  So I have this completed picture that I love.  When I went to blow it up, I was informed that the picture would come out rather blurry at such a large size.  Sigh......  My only option was to go out when Wes was shipping next and try to take some better shots.

And this is what I get when we TRY to make something cool, instead of just letting things happen as they should.  Crap.  Absolute crap.  Not one of these pictures will work.  Ahhhhhh, the madness!

Except this one.  This is not crap.  This photo is of my lovely assistant.  Apple of my eye.    

Can anyone say 'jacked up hind wheels'?  I would cringe every time I saw this picture hanging in his room. 

I chopped off the bottom of their legs.  Otherwise known as hooves to people that still have their faculties.

Not enough legs. 

Too many butts. 

Too many heads.

No.  Just no. 

Only if I could crop out the white calf.  Yes, I am discriminating against him. 

Eh.  Just not quite tripping my trigger.  

Perhaps.  We shall see.....  Still cropping out the white guy. 

Even in sports mode, still blurry.  I cursed when I saw this.  It otherwise might have been 'the one'.  

Stay tuned for so many exciting things to come - a proper room, a sign and...... well, that's pretty much it.  Two things.  A room and a sign.  We're boring folks.  If you hadn't figured that out yet then you're probably more blonde than I.

Random Thoughts and Oddities

• It finally is starting to feel like fall.  Hallelujah!  Our high today is 75.  The high today in Billings, Montana, is 39 degrees.  Kinda wish I was there.  The high today in College Station, Texas, is 97 degrees.  Although I don't miss the southeast Texas humidity, I also wish I was there today.  A former professor was killed in a car wreck and he's leaving behind a wife and two beautiful little girls.  Today his funeral will take place in College Station.  Please say a silent little prayer for this man's family.  
• Our garden is still producing.  We have tomatoes running out our ears but we're not complaining.  I found out the hard way that canning 17 quarts in one afternoon with a toddler in the house is probably not one of my top 10 genius ideas.  
• If you're a Pinterest person, find this recipe and pin it.  Bacon, avocado, grilled cheese sandwich.  Actually, you don't even really need Pinterest.  I just told you the recipe.  Bacon, avocado, cheddar cheese, butter and bread.  Do it.  You won't regret it.  
• I CAN'T WAIT to post pictures of my sister and brother-in-law's baby shower gift.  I can't do it yet, though, because I know Kara is a super nosy type of person and she checks this blog far too often.  Perhaps I shall post a teaser photo on instagram.  1, because I am a super techno cool kid that has an instagram now, and 2, because she is not such a super cool techno kid and does not have such an account.  Instagram snobbery, anyone?  
• Kenyon never ceases to amaze me.  I love watching his mind work.  He's starting to LOVE to help out around the house.  The other day I was in a hurry and I had the audacity to throw away his poopy diaper without first offering him the pleasure.  He threw his first mini tantrum.  He also received his first post-mini tantrum spank.  Nevertheless, I always make sure to wad up the diaper and give it to him so he can throw it away these days.  Helpfulness is something I am going to encourage with this child.  And no, we don't use cloth diapers 100% of the time.  I could sense some of you wondering after reading my post from several weeks ago.  
• If you have managed to stick with me till the end of what is possibly the world's most boring post, congratulations.  Now go do something productive with the rest of your day.  I shall do the same.  

Apple juice and Jesus

Yesterday was an odd day.  Every time I think I have this parenting thing ALLLLLLL figured out and absolutely nothing will ruffle my feathers; well, my feathers get a bit flustered and ruffled.  Probably doesn't hurt them to get aired out once in a while anyway.

I may or may not have let Kenyon OD on apple juice a few days ago.  I knew it was coming; the inevitable barrage of loose stools that follow any such apple product binge.

I was in the utility room switching around laundry yesterday when I heard the beginning rumblings of action in Kenyon's pants.  No biggie, right?  Happens every day, and like I said, I've pretty much got this whole parenting thing ALLLLLL figured out.

He bent over to play with something on the floor.  As he squatted down, the back of his shirt lifted up and poop shot up and out of the back of his diaper.  Seriously.  A nice little puddle of the scoots right there on my utility room floor.  I shrieked a bit, which made Kenyon stand up.  He looked at me for a second with his puzzled grin, then squatted back down to play once more.  Cue the poop fountain once again.

This time I managed to shriek and yell "DON'T MOVE" which every one year old knows is code-speak for "RUN EVERYWHERE FRANTICALLY WHILE MOM CHASES YOU."

As you can imagine, I had to add "clean utility room" to my list of to-dos later that afternoon.

I finally caught and carried Kenyon across the house to the bathroom.  I sat him in the tub, still fully clothed, and proceeded to start undressing him.  When it came time to take off the poopy shorts, we had a bit of a dilemma.  I have drilled it into his head that he is NOT to ever stand in the bathtub where he could slip and fall.  Never, ever.  He's gotten swats on the bottom for standing up.  Seriously, I cannot reiterate this enough.  No standing shall ever happen in the tub.

Therefore, yesterday when I tried to stand him in the tub so I could slip his shorts off, we had a bit of a struggle.  I was holding him a foot above the tub, gently shaking him back and forth in an attempt to have him straighten his legs out and stand.  He kept his legs at a firm 90 degree angle and started writhing back and forth, uttering all sorts of curses and hexes upon me.

Not that I have been to many (any) baptist revivals, but I would imagine Kenyon was acting like he was at one while contorting his body around.  "Let go of me, Satan, my mom told me to never stand in the tub!  I won't do it!  I will not be tempted!"

Once I imagined my son calling me Satan I decided it was worth the extra scrubbing and mopping of the bathroom floor to let Kenyon 'win' and not stand in the tub.  I let him stand in the middle of the bathroom floor while I stripped his poopy clothes off him.

Approximately two hours later, when I finally finished bathing my child, mopping up poopy messes and other fun tasks I decided that it was pretty neat that Kenyon refused to stand in the tub.  No doubt due to our superior parenting skills.  Maybe we do have this parenting thing alllllll figured out.  Ha. Ha. Ha.....

Table project

I've had lots of projects to work on in the shop lately.  I even have two projects for family members that are on a time frame and need done NOW.  So.... what did I do?  I rebuilt a table for myself.  

Before anyone gets all up-in-arms and calls me super selfish, please know that there was a slight method to my madness.  I needed to test out this new paint so I'd know exactly what it looked like for the aforementioned family projects.  So there.  

I know some of you are wondering why I didn't keep the smaller, original legs.  They had major termite damage on the bottoms.  It was one of those projects that just kept growing and growing and growing...

It now sets on our porch and I can (and will) use it for anything - potting bench, buffet table at parties, backdrop for perfect holiday decorations that are changed out promptly every quarter (okay, not really for that.  I just found, and switched out, a small Christmas decor item I found yesterday.).