5 Years.....It Could All Be So Different

blink blink

In the rare moments of quiet I have found myself wondering how exactly I got here.

How we got here.

I look around.

Hello.

Hello?

We're married.....we have a son....A SON!!! We have another baby on the way. We live in a house....my house...OUR HOUSE!

We are in our thirties. We're, like, grown ups. When did this happen?

Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing
We've done things, made decisions to get ourselves to this very moment in time.

We've had faith that moved mountains, we've fallen on our knees, on our face, down big black holes. Sometimes I thought we'd never get up.

But always, somewhere deep, deep down I knew we were going to win.

This photo has special meaning for me,
Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing
during a time that there was so much unknown ahead. We never let it get the best of us- the darkness, the never-ending bills, the heartache, the loss, the being beaten to the ground- whatever you want to call it.

I got up. We got up.

By the grace and mercy and power and might and strength and love of God, a very good God, we made it.

The hard times are never really over. But we're still winning.

Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing
blink blink

We've already won.

Happy 5th anniversary Kevin, my love, my rock......my very best friend. You simply amaze me. Each and every day. You are the most amazing father and the most amazing other half of me. I am better because of you.

Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing
I love you (big as the sky)~

Missy

Hair Today....Gone Tomorrow

1. “He needs a haircut.”


“I know.”



“So why don’t you cut his hair?”



“Because he doesn’t want a haircut.”



“But you’re his parent. You’re supposed to make the rules.”



“I do make the rules but he doesn’t want a haircut. What am I going to do, hold him down and cut his hair?”



“No. Just tell him he has to have a haircut.”



“I tried. But then he told me he wants to grow his hair long and I have to respect that. It is his hair. And it isn’t hurting anyone.”



“But he looks sloppy – like someone who needs a haircut.”


Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing

“Maybe. But who am I to tell him how to look?”



“You’re his parent.”





2. “Grayson, you need a haircut.”



“No Mommy, no cut.”



“I can’t see your face.”



“Yes, yes....see” (As he points to his face)



“But you can't see. See?”



“I can see, my eyes. See?”



“All your friends have haircuts.”



*Crickets*




“We could do something really cool. Something shaggy. A mohawk? A trim? You can pick out a style and we’ll bring it to the barber and she will make you look awesome! Like Daddy.”



“No hawk Mommy. No style.”



“… Not even for a cupcake?"



“No, Mommy. Me wike my hair wike dis.”



“Whoa, really? More than M&M's or a cupcake?”



“No haircut. No haircut...I see, I see!"



"Fine. Grow it down to your ankles for all I care."



*Crickets*






3. “Did you bribe him?”



“Yes.”



“Did you tell him that his friends all have haircuts?”



“Yes.”



“Did you tell him he will be able to see much better with a haircut?”



“Yes. I told him everything. Bribes. Peer pressure. Reason. But he wants his hair to be long. So we’re going to let him grow his hair as long as he wants until he decides he doesn’t want long hair anymore. We’re not going to pressure him or plead with him or bring it up ever again. It's his hair and if he wants to be a young Cousin It, that's his business."



“So that's it?”



“That's it.”


Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing

That's it


Until.....

Pawpaw got a hold of him. Now let me just state for the record that ever since Gray was a tiny tot, my Dad has been giving him quarterly trims. A little snip here and there just so the boy could see.

I love long haired boys.....always have.

Until.....

The Dorothy Hamil haircut.

Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing
This is the ONLY picture we have of "the Dorothy Hamil" haircut. It was really really bad! So bad that I refused to run any errands that week until he got a real haircut.

Kevin couldn't take him seriously......every time Grayson would walk up to him, Kevin would just shake his head in disgust.


He begged me to take him to get it fixed, but I just didn't want to do the "walk of shame" into the barber shop. You know what I'm talking about! That feeling of guilt as you walk into your hair stylist's place of business, knowing that as soon as she sees you, she's going to say, "What have you done?? Why didn't you just come in and let me color your hair?? You Know Better"!

I had a couple of different "white lies" for Grayson's predicament.....for ex:

"Oh, you know what happens when little boys play with scissors"......or, "He got gum in his hair and I didn't want it to end up in his bed".....lies, lies, lies I tell you!


So, I didn't go.



Kevin did.

A 35$ haircut later (toy train included),


Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing

we have a little boy with a little boy haircut.

The Fickle Pregnant Belly

Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing

A few days ago, my husband was sick. Supposedly. No, really, he was. He has another sinus infection. It's possible he whined a little. Alot. His body was worn down, he was hungry but nothing sounded good, and he just wanted to take a long hot shower and go to bed. Sound like anyone else??? Yeah, me.



I was not very sympathetic, because that's how I've felt every day for the past 12 weeks. Try having a little tailed being growing inside of you and having to run at the sight of everything in your fridge and trying not to puke on your child as you change his wet diapers.....not to mention poop, I wanted to say, but didn't. Instead I very maturely slammed cabinet doors and ignored him. I should not be whining, because I am much better off than some pregnant women who are visiting the porcelain shrine multiple times a day their entire pregnancy. I am proud to say I have not thrown up in 4 days. Four! That's huge!! The last episode was Sunday morning at my parents house after breakfast.


A friend told me it's like being hungover constantly, but without the fun of dancing and margaritas.


Kevin is better today....(crazy what a little Nightquil and Mucinex can do) and I am still pregnant - apparently, the little bean is now the size of a lime. Or an over-stuffed Texas size olive in a dirty martini I can't drink. In the last few days, my stomach has been doing very weird things, like wanting to eat a BLT with Avocado and spicy mustard on wheat bread right now, though it's 9:45 am. The guy at the deli used white bread - I have an aversion to white bread even when I'm not pregnant - but I focused on the bacon and the mustard and it went down OK. I also have had cravings for Milky Ways, Swedish Fish, ice cream with extra ice cream on top, sour skittles and anything with capers. These are not the sort of mild cravings that I can ignore. They are aggressive, beasty, hyena in heat cravings. I go from wanting to puke and thinking that Red Velvet Cake Cheesecake with thick icing should be banished from a five-mile smell radius, to needing to eat three squares of lasagna at one sitting....no really, I did....just now while typing this.



Since I'm a little emotional, my reaction to thwarted satisfaction of cravings is not very reasonable. Last time around, I wanted A-1. On everything. If I could've eaten A-1 pancakes smothered in A-1 syrup washed down with an A-1 shake, I might have done just that. At Which Wich, I requested A-1 on a sandwich. There was no A-1 in a squeezy bottle huddled with the other sandwich sauces. "Um....this is a sandwich shop, how do you not have......" The sandwich maker looked at my seven months pregnant belly and the tears forming in my eyes, and said, "Wait a minute, let me check in back." He emerged with a bottle of A-1 (it very well could've been from the employee fridge, but I didn't care) I could've leapt across the counter and kissed him, had he not been toting a rather large knife.


Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing

Maybe because I don't look pregnant, just bloated, my recent attempt to satisfy a craving at one of my favorite markets did not work as well. I wanted a chicken burrito bowl. Alas, one cannot get chicken burrito bowls unless it's after 11 am, because the rice and beans and such are not yet ready. This is very reasonable, unless you live in pregnant world, in which case it makes you want to sit down on the floor and cry. Instead, I wandered through the store until I came across something else - chicken fajita soup - that made me almost as happy as a warm bowl of rotisserie chicken mixed with beans and rice and lots of salsa. Almost. I may have also wanted birthday cake that day, but to no avail had no birthday parties to attend......so I went up to the bakery and bought a sheet cake. Yes, a whole sheet cake....just for me and baby.

Later that evening when Kev opened the fridge he asked, "Who's birthday is it?"

As I was about to answer in my most honest voice " oh, just a friends".....he interupted me with "really?"......you couldn't have just bought a slice?? You needed a whole sheet cake?"

Busted. I had forgotton that I had already had a square......or three.

Dang, now I want a burrito bowl again.