it's all about the smell

Kevin bought a new (used) truck. He bought it to drive when he's home, so he's not having to drive his work truck. He also graciously allows his wife to drive it. . .occasionally. Tuesday, I had a low tire on my car, so we all jumped in the truck and took off to town. On the way home, Kady sniffed really loudly and announced, "I like Daddy's truck--it smells GOOD!" It must be the vanilla air freshener my macho husband hung. . .personally, I thought it smelled like a public bathroom air freshener. Don't tell Kev.

butterflies don't do that

Kev doesn't care for pizza. . .normally. He will occasionally eat it, but he NEVER asks for it. A few weekends ago, he asked to go out to "the Hut" for pizza on Saturday night, which is a story unto itself. . .Once I ascertained he was not kidding, was not feverish, and truly did want to eat pizza, I agreed.

On the way, Kady asked what was on the windshield. It was bird poop. (Didn't see that one coming, did you?) We explained that a bird had pooped on Daddy's windshield, which then led to a long conversation. Eventually, the two-year-old tired of learning why exactly (her daddy thinks) a bird poops on a windshield, and she pointed out a butterfly outside her window. Kevin (being himself) began teasing her about her new found butterfly pooping on the windshield. She quickly informed him otherwise. "Daddy, I lub (love) butterflies. Butterflies do NOT poop." Who could doubt the logic in that?

I can't talk about it

I was 9 months pregnant when Kyler started school, and I felt every bit of 9 months! My fear was that I would go into labor that day and miss getting to see him and talk to him. Instead, I waited a couple more weeks before I had Kady.

That first day was hard. I'm not usually a highly emotional person. Seriously. However, if your baby starts kindergarten when you're 9 months pregnant, I suggest taking tissues. Kevin was very understanding (although he kept laughing at me. . .), and some random teacher gave me a hug in the hallway. (Seriously. Never saw her before.)

Kevin took me to have breakfast, where we proceed to talk about how fast it's went thus far. Then, the talk turned to "and before you know it, he'll be driving." I boohooed. I broke down and bawled. Something about my baby in a car, driving scares me to death. I don't know if it's the lack of control parents have at that point, the fear of something happening to him, or the idea that he would actually be old enough to maneuver a vehicle on his own, but the idea still sends me to tears. Whatever you do, do not mention Kyler driving.

This weekend, we let Kyler steer (or "drive" to him) up the driveway. Kevin (because he's so loving and sweet like that) kept talking to Kyler about what will happen when Kyler's old enough to drive. They laughed while I cried. Kyler wants a dually pickup like his Papa's. Kevin said, "we'll see." I think Kady should get a Jeep, because I loved my Jeep. Kevin says no. Apparently, boys like girls with Jeeps, and we can't have that. . .My husband is as weird as I am. . .but at least I found something to torment him with. If he brings up you-know-who d r i v i n g (that was too hard to type!), I bring up Kady-bug getting a Jeep. All's fair, right?

SWAK: My Valentine Letter to my Husband

Dear Kevin,
The truth is we were never "supposed" to get together. We were certainly never "supposed" to last. Everyone said so. After all, you were that guy who was always looking for fun, always looking to get into a little mischief. You smoked. You drank. You stayed out late. You were THE bad boy.

I was the always-conscious-of-how-important-this-was-to-my-future girl. I was forever concerned about grades and homework and being good. I knew my plans for the future. I didn't think about nonsense that might deter those plans. Then, I had a "mini-meltdown" and met you.

We were good for each other. You taught me to be a little wild. I taught you to set goals. You taught me that no matter how much I planned, life just kind of spontaneously happened. I taught you to care more for another's happiness than your own (as you taught me).

We fell in love when everyone said we were too young. We got married, and everyone said it would never last--we were too young. They were right--about the too young part. We were too young, but it has lasted. . .for over 10 years now. We were too naive, but we've gained wisdom and experience. We have laughed and we have cried.

We've been through some really tough times. I didn't think we'd ever get out of that first apartment we were in. OH! And remember when I rented the house full of roaches?! Then there was the Valentine's Day you gave me the sad, droopy aloe vera plant that you snagged at the last possible moment. . .

We have survived parents divorcing, parents remarrying, a parent's death, fairly "odd" family members becoming officially certifiable, deaths of loved ones, deaths of friends' babies, college, graduate school, night shift, being "welfare poor," being just above welfare poor, bounced checks, lies, births of our babies, sleepless nights with our babies, roommates (never again!!), friends taking over my kitchen (Hi, Adam!), James Dean neighbors, tequila nights, fast food jobs, unemployment, bad housekeeping, parents' heart attacks and other assorted medical crises, weddings, funerals, bad cooking, serious weight gain (obviously not due to bad cooking, right?!), working away from home, depression, roughly 1400 flat tires, a ton of laundry, piles of deer meat, stacks of unfiled pictures, the death of your best friend, a son that appears to be a clone of my dad, a red-headed daughter, snow skiing, a freak New Mexico blizzard, being stranded on the interstate, bad Chinese food (here, kitty-kitty), vacations with the parents, changing a million dirty diapers (me), cases of beer (you), a few (!) fights, and a gazillion laughs to be where we are now.

I wouldn't trade a minute of it. Through it all, you've been my lover, my guardian (at times), my protector, my confidant, my sweetheart, my challenger, my alter-ego, my children's father, my strong arms, my handyman, my fellow dreamer, my mechanic, my sounding board, my hunter (and when that didn't work, my gatherer), my provider, my breadwinner, my supporter, my cheerleader, my encouragement, my redneck : ), and most importantly, my best friend! I love my life, and I love you. You make each day tolerable. There is no one else I'd rather laugh with and love.

Love,

Rachel

PS After seeing the mess you cleaned out of my car last weekend, I know you love me, too!!

PSHAW!! I don't need no stinkin' filing system!

I'm not sure how we'll do on our taxes this year. Kevin started a new career, after all.

However, with a filing system like his, how can we go wrong?!

they say opposites attract

My husband and I grew up one town apart. His town was 10 miles from my town. Yet, we never met until we were teenagers. He was 17, and I was 16. We were inseparable from that time on. Prior to that, however, we were quite different. This fact was reiterated the other night when we were talking about our young teenage years.

You may remember that our community has a movie theatre. It has been here FOREVER. Like any small town, there are limited opportunities for fun (besides the theatre). Therefore, many nights were spent catching a movie by small-town Paradisians (especially of the under-16-and-therefore-not-driving-anywhere-age).

Or so I thought.

Kev and I were discussing this topic, when he told me how much fun it was to sneak out of the movie theatre. It was apparently the "golden hour" of the week--the time when youngsters were unsupervised and their parents unaware of their whereabouts. (And Kevin's should have been aware. . .)

I tried to sneak out once. The concession stand girl caught me. She was a friend of the family. I didn't try that again.

Kevin laughed. He went on to explain that really, you only had maybe 90 minutes of free time, because you had to sneak back in and get some "good" kid to tell you all about the movie.

Um.

It dawned on him slightly after it dawned on me. I was THAT kid. The sad part is that I never knew it. I always thought it was really weird that everyone asked me all about the movie. I mean, if they really wanted to know, why didn't they just stay and watch it?

Kev just shook his head and said, "I can't believe WE got married." Neither can I.

the end of an era

Kevin has his Jeep for sale.

Kevin is a car nut.

For as long as I've known him, he's drooled over muscle cars and classic cars of all kinds, especially Mustangs.

We spent many hours looking at Mustangs at car shows.

MANY hours.

Some guy offered to trade his 1968 Mustang for Kevin's Jeep.

Kevin declined.

My husband has officially entered adulthood.

"It sucks. You're gonna love it."

(Bonus points if you can name what tv show and character uttered the above quote.)

faces

Let me apologize for the sideways pics. Blogger and I are arguing today, and he is obviously winning. . .[sigh]. . .which is also the reason for the duplicate post the other day. . .[sigh]

Kady seems to be going through some kind of a weird posing phase.

She is no longer smiling naturally for the camera.

I wonder where she gets it. . .

It's never a good idea when. . .

you husband asks, "How do you KNOW a finger is broken if it's not just completely falling off the bone?"

First, he calls and says he doesn't want me to worry. He is ok. Everything is fine. It's ok. He cut his hand a little, but he's ok. It's not too bad. (I'm blonde, people. I was still not getting it.) Then, he asks me the above question.

[Deep breath]

OK, so this might be more serious than I first was led to believe. . .

He hung up because HE DIDN'T THINK HE COULD DRIVE WITH ONE HAND BLEEDING AND ONE HAND ON THE STEERING WHEEL. . .ya think?

I called his mom, who's a nurse, and who had already talked to him. She felt he should go to the ER. I'm still wondering just how bad this injury is. . .

Then, his mom told me that he called her when he was in the store buying supplies to stop the bleeding and bandage (all of) his fingers.

(For future reference: apparently, grabbing a moving fan blade on a welding machine is discouraged, as it is DANGEROUS.)

We finally convinced him to go to the ER, where he received a tetanus shot. The ER doctor stated there wasn't anything to stitch together, but he could debride the dying tissue. Kevin refused.

I still haven't seen it. I'll let you know if I pass out. I seriously hope this does not cut our shopping trip short. . .Priorities, people, priorities! (I'm SO kinda joking.) : )

James Dean was out to get us

Things were tough before and during the time when Kyler was born. We were beyond poor. We were two college kids, who didn't have a pot to pee in. We learned that you can make Ramen noodles go a long way. You can make generic mac and cheese with water instead of milk. We learned that if you ordered Little Caesar's on Wednesday ($5 deal), you would have enough pizza for lunch for the rest of the week. We learned lots of things back in those days. Luckily, we haven't had to employ many of those tips lately. . .

When I was pregnant and until Kyler was almost a year old, we lived in a one-bedroom apartment. A one-bedroom apartment that had very thin walls. Did I mention Kyler had colic for the first 3 or 4 months? We were well-loved, I'm sure. I consider it revenge, however, for what happened when I was pregnant.

As is typical of apartment living, we were constantly getting new neighbors. Most of the time, we all kept to ourselves. When I became pregnant, however, we suddenly got the worst neighbor ever. This young man was an EMT or fireman or something that resulted in extremely weird hours. You didn't have to wonder, however if he was home. His music and his friends made sure we were aware of any times when he was in his apartment. 3 am or 3 pm didn't seem to matter. His radio was louder than our tv--you could not watch tv if he was home because you couldn't hear it.

My husband and I complained to each other repeatedly about the noise, the mysterious liquid that would flow from his deck onto ours. . ., and the general rudeness of this guy. My husband also mentioned that EVERY time he pulled up, this man was watching him and giving him an evil look. Weird, I thought.

This kept on for several months during my pregnancy. Neither Kev nor I wanted to cause problems by going to the managment, so we lived with the noise. We kept hoping he would move. Finally, I had enough one night. These guys were sitting on the deck and I asked them ever so politely (ahem) to be quiet. They laughed at me. I was so mad when Kevin finally got home. I told him the same story. By this time, the guy had left.

However, Kevin told me that he saw the guy "watching" him from his window when he pulled in. He was going to put a stop to this nonsense. We left to go speak to the managment. As we did, Kevin (who in his defense, always worked nights and came in at dawn) pointed to our "neighbor," who was indeed looking out his window. . .Our neighbor had a cardboard cutout of. . .(Drumroll, please). . . James Dean. James Dean (as a cardboard cutout) had been stalking my husband for months!

Again, I think we got our revenge with a colicy newborn. The noisy neighbor moved out within a month of Kyler's birth.

Ok, you all have had bad neighbors at some point. Spill. What's the worst you've had?

The Best Laid Plans. . .

Today did not go as planned. Ever had one of those days? I was supposed to get to see Kevin, run the errands I needed to run, and post Kyler's video from his program at school. Instead, I'm truly battling some "taken advantage of" feelings. I did not leave my dirty house so that I could come down here and clean my husband's "bachelor pad."

Let me back up. Kady is no longer taking a nap. Her sleep schedule is nightmare inducing. . .to me. For some unknown reason, God saw fit to give 2 night owls a beautiful little girl who just happens to be a morning person. The child is like an alarm clock--that never needs to be reset. 6am: "Get up! Get up, Mama, GET UP!" That's what I heard this morning (and every other day). We were dressed and on Target's doorstop at 8:30 this morning. (They open at 8, in case you're wondering.) I ran all our errands. I attempted to post, but the computer was having "connection" issues--who isn't? I've cleaned as much as I can, but it's just one of those days when one thing after another happens.

For example, Kady was laying down to take a nap when the lid came off her hot chocolate (lukewarm) and it spilled everywhere. (I know, hindsight is everything!) Kyler is beyond hyper, which is partially due to being stuck in this very small duplex. I've come a long ways on Kev's laundry, Kev's dirty dishes, and Kev's dirty house in general. . .What I need to clean up next is my attitude. I need a healing of my attitude.

I love my husband. I'm blessed to have Kevin as my husband. He truly is a wonderful man, who makes huge sacrifices for his family. I'm blessed to have a daughter like Kady, who took the initiative last night to pee pee in the potty because her big brother was. (FYI: Kady and I were brushing our teeth. Kyler walked in and started going pee pee, because my children have no concept of the terms "privacy" and "personal space." Kady suddenly said she needed to go, and she did!) I'm blessed to be able to take her to Target and buy her Dora panties as a reward. I'm blessed to have a son as full of life as Kyler. I'm blessed to have a son who is more coordinated, with better rhythm, and a better ability to carry a tune than his momma. . .or his daddy. . .How did that happen? I'm blessed to be able to come down here and see Kevin (even if it's not as much as I would like!). I'm blessed to be able to do Kev's laundry at his duplex instead of having to go to the laundromat. I'm blessed. Period.

As promised, here (hopefully) is Kyler's program at school.


The winner of the giveaway is Wanda, but I'm having technical difficulties. I will attempt to contact her on Monday, at which time, she will have 48 hours to respond.

May we all realize how truly blessed we are! Have a great weekend!


PS I am blessed in the nap area as well. Kady is (finally) taking a nap.

His Generosity Overwhelms

What can I say, inspiration hit me when I was replying to someone else's post.

We bought a new couch when I got my first real job (We'd been married about 6 years at that point.). We had to: I REFUSED to move the couch we had to our new house. . .I literally said, "Kevin, don't you dare load this couch. We are not keeping it. I will sit on the floor first!" (And we had to for a few days. . .)We had bought our first couch (used--think serious beside-the-road garage sale find) when we first got married. At that time, we bought a coffee table, rocking chair, chair, ottoman, and the dreaded couch for, I think, $75.00. SCORE. It was hideous. (Think blue with pink flowers. . . and highly stained. . .by not only us. . .)

Anyway, I thought the chair would be the beginning of new things (read: furniture!) for us. . .After all, I was finally out of school. I had a decent paying job. I was wrong. Last year, we bought Kev's mom's bedroom suite, mattress, and even comforter/shams/window treatments (not sheets, thank you, Jesus!!). (Donna, if you're reading this, I still love my bedroom furniture, I promise!)

Now, that I've managed to alienate my mother-in-law, let me make my point. While we're no longer destitute, my husband remains CHEAP! : ) (I could bring up the going without an air conditioner at 9 months pregnant story, or the vacation horror stories, grocery shopping remains a battle, etc., but I think the furniture is as good a story as any. I just wish I had a picture of the couch, so you could see the awesomeness of the couch in it's full glory. . .)

We're Weird. (There, I said it.)

I wrote the following post a few weeks ago but never posted it. As I face a very difficult professional decision, I reread this post and decided to share it. Again, I'm not sure I've managed to verbalize what I want. . .


Our family situation is different than most. I enter this blog with some trepidation, fearing that I won't be able to say this as I want to (more so than with most posts. . .). If you've read my profile, you know Kevin works away from home. You may have wondered about this. So did we. We asked ourselves if this was really what Kevin needed to do, if this was what God had in mind. We prayed, I fasted over this decision. How could God take Kevin away from us? What sense did it make for a father to leave his children and go to work in Florida (at that time). God kept saying, "wait, just wait." I began to feel Him working on both of us. It still makes no sense to most people (and to us, if we're honest) that the father of my children is gone more often than he's home. That said, let me tell you a little something about our life prior to Kevin's change of career.


I have spent more nights falling asleep by myself than with my husband. Way more nights falling asleep alone. Kevin has worked nights since he was in college. There have been brief changes to this schedule, and he has worked many different schedules (3 1/2, 12 hour shifts; salary from 1 or 2 pm-ish to ?midnight or 1 am Tues-Sat, 3-12-ish different days of the week. . .the list goes on). We never saw him, and when we did, he was more concerned about catching up on his sleep or adjusting to being up during the day. We fought way more than we should. He felt guilty about not being with us. I made him feel guilty about being home with us. He worried about bringing home enough money to support us. (During part of this time, I was in graduate school, which means I contributed zilch to the income.)

Then, in 2006, we suffered such pain. Kev's step-sister lost her husband. Kev's dad passed away. Bad enough, right? Then, the crushing blow. Kevin's best friend was murdered. He was here one minute, with Kevin giving him a hard time about his job (they worked together). Then, he was gone. Dead, just like that. He left behind a wonderful wife and 4 beautiful, smart, funny kids. Slowly, as Kevin came out of this grief (Do we ever actually recover from grief? I'm not sure.), I began to see changes. Little ones at first, but they meant so much to me. He would take Kyler with him more. He would include me more. We would do stuff as a family.

During this time, things began to change at this job. He still worked with a great bunch of guys. Changes, as they are apt to do, were made that were not best for our family. He began to feel himself pulled in a different direction. He kept looking at different options. He talked to me about these options. I guess i should say that WE talked about these options. We had all the same questions that well-meaning friends and family have asked us repeatedly. "Why does he have to go so far?" "Has he thought about ______?" "What about ______________?" Couldn't he just ____________?"

I guess what I am trying to say is that our life is not be normal. It never has been. This current job situation is something that I wish will be temporary. I wish that some day, Kevin will be able to work close to home on an 8-5 or so job. However, until that time comes, we are satisfied (at least 90% of the time. . .) with the current situation. We currently get to see Kevin every weekend. When we do see him, he is all about family. He plays with the kids. He has more patience with them. He is tired, but he's on a "normal" schedule. It's something we can handle.

And those months in Florida? They taught me that I can do it. I may not do it well, and I can not do it without family and friend support, but I can exist without Kevin to depend upon. As for Kevin, he learned again just how important his wife and kids are to him. He values us more.

I did not write this post in an effort to elicit sympathy, etc, from anyone. It is my feeble attempt to explain my family's circumstances and the decisions we've made, with a great deal of caution and prayer, I might add.

Now, I pray that God will lead us and direct us as to the path He wishes us to take. I pray that I will truly give this over to Him and trust Him fully, in whatever path He leads us on.

My Dear Husband

Oh, y'all. (For proper "y'all" usage, read this post.) My husband, bless his heart, is skating on rather thin ice. He came home this weekend, and he managed to leave his shaving kit at our house. Ok, no biggie, right? Just get it next weekend. You see, he left his social security card (that he needs to start a new job this week) in his shaving kit. . .because that's where everyone keeps it. . . so I drove three hours to take the man his shaving kit. Since I didn't get down there until after 9:00 last night, I spent the night and drove 3 hours this morning to work. I'm tired of driving (Notice the extreme understatement? Could you FEEL the sarcasm?).

Some observations from my "trip":

1. Nascar drivers are able to drive so long without bathroom breaks because, if you stop, those SLOW people get in front of you again! Trust me, a gal can go a long way without a bathroom break, if she's trying to make good time!
2. Early morning is the best time to travel in Arkansas in order to make good time. Everyone is hurrying to work, so you can cruise right along with the crowd without worrying about those pesky policemen.
3. Husbands are notoriously nice when you drive 6 hours for them. They feel guilt. We, as women, should not take advantage of this guilt, and oh, I don't know, ask for things of large value. [wink, wink]
4. It is significantly quieter (even with the radio blaring) in a car with no children.
5. SIGNIFICANTLY quieter
6. I could hear myself think.
7. I enjoy road trips, especially solo ones.
8. Unless I have to drive 6 hours to take my husband his shaving kit!
9. A shaving kit is no place for a social security card!
10. Fall in the Ozarks is beautiful--absolutely, breath-takingly, awe-inspiringly beautiful!

This left me with only one question: Does he keep his birth certificate in his suitcase?

We're Weird. (There, I said it.)

I wrote the following post a few weeks ago but never posted it. As I face a very difficult professional decision, I reread this post and decided to share it. Again, I'm not sure I've managed to verbalize what I want. . .

Our family situation is different than most. I enter this blog with some trepidation, fearing that I won't be able to say this as I want to (more so than with most posts. . .). If you've read my profile, you know Kevin works away from home. You may have wondered about this. So did we. We asked ourselves if this was really what Kevin needed to do, if this was what God had in mind. We prayed, I fasted over this decision. How could God take Kevin away from us? What sense did it make for a father to leave his children and go to work in Florida (at that time). God kept saying, "wait, just wait." I began to feel Him working on both of us. It still makes no sense to most people (and to us, if we're honest) that the father of my children is gone more often than he's home. That said, let me tell you a little something about our life prior to Kevin's change of career.

I have spent more nights falling asleep by myself than with my husband. Way more nights falling asleep alone. Kevin has worked nights since he was in college. There have been brief changes to this schedule, and he has worked many different schedules (3 1/2, 12 hour shifts; salary from 1 or 2 pm-ish to ?midnight or 1 am Tues-Sat, 3-12-ish different days of the week. . .the list goes on). We never saw him, and when we did, he was more concerned about catching up on his sleep or adjusting to being up during the day. We fought way more than we should. He felt guilty about not being with us. I made him feel guilty about being home with us. He worried about bringing home enough money to support us. (During part of this time, I was in graduate school, which means I contributed zilch to the income.) Then, in 2006, we suffered such pain. Kev's step-sister lost her husband. Kev's dad passed away. Bad enough, right? Then, the crushing blow. Kevin's best friend was murdered. He was here one minute, with Kevin giving him a hard time about his job (they worked together). Then, he was gone. Dead, just like that. He left behind a wonderful wife and 4 beautiful, smart, funny kids. Slowly, as Kevin came out of this grief (Do we ever actually recover from grief? I'm not sure.), I began to see changes. Little ones at first, but they meant so much to me. He would take Kyler with him more. He would include me more. We would do stuff as a family.

During this time, things began to change at this job. He still worked with a great bunch of guys. Changes, as they are apt to do, were made that were not best for our family. He began to feel himself pulled in a different direction. He kept looking at different options. He talked to me about these options. I guess i should say that WE talked about these options. We had all the same questions that well-meaning friends and family have asked us repeatedly. "Why does he have to go so far?" "Has he thought about ______?" "What about ______________?" Couldn't he just ____________?"


I guess what I am trying to say is that our life may not be normal. It never has been. This current job situation is something that I wish will be temporary. I wish that some day, Kevin will be able to work close to home on an 8-5 or so job. However, until that time comes, we are satisfied (at least 90% of the time. . .) with the current situation. We currently get to see Kevin every weekend. When we do see him, he is all about family. He plays with the kids. He has more patience with them. He is tired, but he's on a "normal" schedule. It's something we can handle.


And those months in Florida? They taught me that I can do it. I may not do it well, and I can not do it without family and friend support, but I can exist without Kevin to depend upon. As for Kevin, he learned again just how important his wife and kids are to him. He values us more.
This post is not intended to elicit sympathy, etc, from anyone. It is my feeble way to explain my family and the decisions we've made, with a great deal of caution and prayer, I might add.

Now, I pray that God will lead us and direct us as to the path He wishes us to take. I pray that I will truly give this over to Him and trust Him fully, in whatever path He leads us on.

As Promised. . .Labor Day Happenings

We went to visit Kev Labor Day weekend. He took Kyler fishing around Heber Springs. Kady and I watched and played on the bank.

Kady managed to entertain herself pretty well. . .(The monkey is, of course, eating a banana!)

It was a very successful day. Kyler caught two trout.

Kev handled the icky stuff. See why I love him? I thought my children were being very reflective. . . Then, I found the FISH HEADS left by the people before us! Overall, it was a wonderful day, and the kids had a blast. Here's my favorite picture.Sorry it took so long to get these up. Ok, the slide show is over. You don't have to look at family pictures anymore. : )

My Guys are Dorks. . .Your laugh for the day

My husband just bought a new pickup-yea, us, a new payment. . .Anyway, he has officially joined the "I have a CD player in my car" Era (about time, huh?). (The Jeep has a tape player.) Ssssssooooo, Kevin did what every male does. . .he went to Best Buy. He bought CD's. Are you ready? He bought 1) Guns N Roses 2) Nirvana 3) Hank Williams, Jr. Don't you know the 12 year old who checked him out thought, "OLD GUY! OLD GUY!!"

Now comes the part where I tell you what my son said. Kyler said, "I bet they named them Guns N Roses because they're for guys. Guys like guns and guys like girls and girls like roses."

Total dorks, right? Now, I just wasted your time by posting this, so that makes us a family of dorks. Do you think there's hope for Kady?

Daddy's Girl

From the moment we talked about having children, my husband was terrified that we might have a girl. It's not that he doesn't like girls. He has always enjoyed playing with, teasing, harassing everyone else's daughters. From Meriel, Marina, Aziza, and Kalie, Kevin terrorized and teased those girls until they either hated or loved him--I'm not sure which.

I think Kevin thought that a little girl would have him wrapped around her finger. A little girl would get away with anything. A little girl would. . .eventually bring home a young man. That was the biggest fear. Kevin was quite a little hell raiser in his day. If any daughter of his dated someone like Kev. . .well, it just might kill him.

Fast forward a few years. Ever since Kady was born, Kevin has been crazy about her. It is so amazing to see their relationship grow as Kady grows. At first, he was scared he might hurt the "little princess." Now, he proudly tells everyone that she's "quite a handful." (He was embarrassingly proud when the babysitter told me that she was doing quite well at defending herself from the bigger kids.) He makes plans for what he's going to buy her one day (Don't ask, and I still have some veto power!). Yes, she has him wrapped around her finger. Yes, she gets away with anything. And yes, one day she will bring home . . .a BOY. (The horror!! Just the thought has me near tears now.) I wouldn't have it any other way. . .and neither would Kev.