I Owe Her Everything

When you are expecting to welcome a new baby into your family, people are inevitably full of helpful advice.  Just kidding, when you are expecting to welcome a new baby into your family, people are inevitably full of thoughtless comments that make you want to head butt them. 

"You know, my sister's husband's cousin's best friend said if you wiggle in front of the mirror every night for the last trimester then your baby will be a good sleeper."

"You know, you  just need to  let that baby scream and not pick it up.  That'll make it more independent and everyone happier.  Especially that screaming baby." 

"You know, your children will hate each other because me and my brother were 2 years apart and we hated each other." 

When the "you knows" would come I always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt assuming that they had good intentions.  If their advice contained a nugget of helpfulness I'd keep it.  The rest I just smiled, nodded, and promptly changed the subject. 

However, there was one comment when I was pregnant with Goose that was not only unhelpful, but in fact, downright left me near tears and would be something I thought on for years to come. 

To set the scene for you, imagine you are at your local Wal-Mart.

Hey, let's face it any story worth telling takes place at the Wal-Mart. 

Anyways, you are at your local Wal-Mart getting your weekly groceries.  You have your two-year-old little boy and are 74 weeks pregnant with a daughter. 

Now, I can only speak to those located in East Tennessee, however, there is this magical time that happens during any Wal-Marting experience around here.  This is known as check-out time.  Now I have never been able to figure out the rational to all this, however, there are approximately 4,389,521 registers at our Wal-Marts, however, of those 4,389,521 registers they can only have max 3 opened at once.  And of those 3 that are open, I have an uncanny ability to get behind every extreme couponer doing their yearly shop.  This magical check out time is painfully slow.  Painfully slow. 

So Bub, me, and my gigantic belly find us in the check-out line.  As most people do when they see one of beautiful children I drag around with me, the woman behind me strikes up a conversation.  This particular conversation goes a little something like this:

Lady:  (laughing) "You sure are going to have hands full, aren't you?"

Me:  Smile. Nod.  "This line sure is moving slow.  I like your ___________ (fill in the blank with hair, shirt, shoes, box of tampons... anything to change the subject)."

Lady:  "Thank you.  So, is this one going to be a boy or girl?" whle pointing to my belly. 

Me:  Smile bigger.  Nod head even more thinking maybe she will just think I'm crazy.  "Girl.  Where did you get________  (see above list of subject changers)?"

Lady: "Oh thank goodness!  I always tell mothers who have little boys they need to have them a girl because you know the saying don't you?  'Daughter for life, son until wife!'  I know that was the case with my children." 

I don't remember how I responded, but I do remember thinking afterwards that she had to be wrong.  That she probably was just a crazy woman and obviously her children hated because she said dumb, inappropriate things to strangers at the Wal-Mart.  Crazy Wal-Mart Lady did not know my sweet Bub.  He was mine and there was never going to be some huzzy come take him from me.  The nerve of her to even suggest it.  

 

That's right baby.  Just look away from the Crazy.  Cover those precious ears, too.  Don't need to hear that mess. 

 

I stewed on this for sometime.  In the years that followed, it would occasionally creep back into my mind.  Overtime the picture of "the huzzy that would take him from me" soften considerably to the point now that I regularly and strongly find myself praying for whoever this woman who he will entrust his heart may be.  I feel certain this "someone" (and Goose's and Baby Moe's "someones") will be worthy of him.  In fact, prayer nowadays has turned more into helping Bub be the kind of man who is worthy of her and their family.  I know now that she won't take him from me, however,  when the time comes I will be the one who gives him to her. 

 

As I have slowly gotten to this point, I have come to a realization.  Back when the Rooster and I first started dating we quickly fell in love.  In fact, I knew almost immediately that he was my "someone".  And year after year I find myself deeper in love with him. 

 

However, recently I have began thinking about how he came to be the who he is?  And the answer, without any doubt, is his own mother. 

 

His ability to make everyone laugh.

 

How he can make anyone, even in tough situations, feel at ease. 

 

His knowing the right words at the right time. 

 

The energy that draws people to him. 

 

The compassion he shows our babies when anger is the easy emotion to have. 

 

His dedication to me. 

 

 

None of that happened by chance.  He didn't just wake up at 27 years old ready to meet the woman he was going to spend his life with without a lot of unseen, unsung, and sometimes unpleasant work. 

No, day after day after day after day his mother poured into him that sense of humor, and that compassion, and that dedication to family.  Day after day after day she prepared him for me.  For us. All the goodness he shows us is because of the goodness she did for him. 

 

 

I don't know if there was a day when he was her little boy and she had a moment like mine where her thoughts were, "There will never be a woman worthy of my baby."  Where she pulled him close and tried to banish the thoughts.  I also don't know if she ever got the point of where she was able to pray for what his life would look like when he had a family of his own.  But, I do know this:  everything I treasure most is a result of the love she poured into him.  I owe her everything because she gave me him. 

 

 

 

 

 

 



A Zebra Knows Her Own

Did you know that no two zebras have stripes that are exactly alike?  However, it is still hard to tell one zebra from another, unless, of course, you happen to be a zebra? 

Each night the Rooster reads the kids a devotional and the ending has some sort of little factoid about animals.  That was tonight's, knowing a zebra by its stripes.  These facts loosely relate back to the actual devotional and tonight's was no exception.

However, I am getting ahead of myself.  You see, perhaps, it would be more meaningful to get a better picture of what this time typically looks like.  To be a fly on the wall maybe.  Most nights after both the big kids have used the bathroom and brushed their teeth we all come into the living room to "listen" to the devotional.  Each of us define "listening" a little differently. 

For the Rooster, listening means reading and asking questions where applicable. 

For Bub, listening means sitting in Daddy's lap and asking several questions and usually finding some longwinded story related to the topic leaving the rest of us feeling inadequate in our lack of knowledge on any given topic. 

They are just precious. 

For Baby Moe, listening  means it is time to sing in his loud, one syllable voice or decide he is too tired to fool with all this quite business so he starts to cry. 

For me, listening means trying to hear key words here or there so I can try to contribute some small way while trying to keep the baby quite. 

And for Goose, my precious Goose, listening typically means trying to find out what happens when she pulls the dog's tail, or pokes the baby in the eye, or bites me, or sees how good of a split she can do, or silently mouth her cheers, or kiss the cat, or anything else that really doesn't resemble listening.

 



Yeah, I'm talking about you Sally Spirit. 

So tonight, the Rooster and Bub crawl into their chair.  Me and Baby Moe get into ours.  Goose plops down beside the dog (sorry Scooby, looks like you drew the short straw tonight). 

Everyone settles in.  The Rooster opens the book and reads the title to tonight's lesson.  "When to Stop Temper Tantrums." 

Both the Rooster and I look at Goose.  Goose looks at us.  Scooby sees his chance and slowly as not to draw attention to himself goes and hides. 

I tell Goose she needs to go sit with her Daddy and listen.  After a little heeing and hawing she gives me a little growl as she walks by.  I'm not even kidding.  Homegirl literally (like literally, literally not like the way most people say literally and really mean figuratively) growls at me!

Now you see, one of the lessons Goose has been working on for awhile now is how to control her temper.  Obviously from her (literal) growl, she has not mastered that lesson yet. 

So, after she gets settled again the Rooster begins reading.  The devotion starts out standard enough.  It begins with the following scripture:

"A hot-tempered person starts fights and gets into all kinds of sins."  Proverbs 29:22 (NLT)

I think to myself, "Hear that sister, fightn' and sin'.  Don't need to be fightn' and sinn'." 

He continues reading.  The first paragraph deals with self-control and how when we lose our temper we often feel worse after it is all over.  Again, to myself, "Yep, self-control.  How many times have we talked about self-control?  This thing was written for you, girlfriend."

Then he went to read the last paragraph: 

"When something robs you of your peace of mind, ask yourself if it is worth the energy you are expending on it.  If not, then put it out of your mind in an act of discipline.  Every time the thought of "it" returns, refuse it." 

"Yep, peace of...." Oh, crap.  Double crap.  This can't be right.  How in the world?  How in the world did this devotional that was suppose to be about Goose suddenly become about me?

You see, there has been a few things that have happened in the last couple months.  Now, nothing life changing or even things most people would ever care about.  However, things that have at times been painful.  Things that have robbed me of my peace of mind.  Things which have drained my energy.  Things that I have, quite frankly, thrown a temper tantrum about. 

Now, mind you, my temper tantrums have not involved growling at anyone.  In fact, other than those who know me the most intimately, most people probably have no idea I have even had any temper tantrums because they all occur internally. 

However, there has been constant dialogue which has been stealing my peace of mind and energy.  The countless make believe conversations I have held in my head which result in no resolution and just more big feelings.  The pointless exhaustion. 

Then it dawns on me, a zebra knows her own.   Goose and I are so similar in most ways.  Makes little surprise we would share this as well. 

So, perhaps, tonight's devotional wasn't just for Goose's (and Scooby's) sake, but mine as well.  So my goal is to change my stripes by disciplining myself by putting this out of my mind and every time it returns, refuse it.  And just maybe, Goose's stripes will change as well. 
 

So, I had a baby

It is officially 4:38 AM and I have been unable to sleep for the past hour.   This is nothing short of miraculous.  You see for the past 8 months anytime there is an opportunity to sleep I have taken it.  Sometimes, in fact, I start to daydream about sleep only to find that I have actually fallen asleep in the middle of my daydream about sleep.  In addition, when I'm not sleeping I am typically doing 3 other things all at the same time.  The "things" that I'm doing vary, however, it is without exception that whenever I am doing what I'm doing it is while doing something else.  Redundant and repetitive?  Blame it on the lack of sleep. 

So, as you have likely have figured out why my head is stuck in a cloud that obviously does not contain a thesaurus.  Back in May, I met this guy:

Who seemingly overnight (note, apparently when I was sleeping) turned into this guy:

 

I realize that I am biased, however, you have to admit he is the most precious thing you have ever seen.  Isn't he?  If they made chocolate babies, they would make them look just like him because everyone would just want to eat him right up, every last bite.  Like until they had a stomach ache, but then they would still say, "Give me more of that delicious chocolate baby!  He's just so yummy!"   Then I would say, "Don't eat my chocolate baby!  He's all mine!"  Err, anyways... 

 

This is my precious Moses. Even just typing his name makes my heart swell and my breath catch.  I love this baby.  In addition to trying to sleep and get people not to eat him, I have spent the last 8 months wondering how I ever got to lucky to get to be his momma. 

 

What, you want just one more?  Okay: 

 

 

 

*Disclaimer, he does actually wear clothes occasionally. 

 

 



Why I Stopped Blogging

For the majority of my life I have hated writing.  I have always been an avid reader (and by avid reader, I mean prior to becoming a momma in 2006...  the majority of my reading now happens when I hole myself up in the bathroom to hide).  However, writing was a whole other beast.  The physical process of writing was painful.  Just the very thought of writing something as simple as a "Happy Birthday, Love the Hen Family" in a greeting card was enough to give me a hand cramp.  And seriously, if I had given any forethought to the thank you cards that come with getting married, I would likely have stayed single.  Just kidding, Rooster.  Just kidding.  

When I was in middle school I was given an electronic typewriter for a Christmas gift.  It openned up a whole new world.  Of course it didn't spare me of this real special day, but it did make writing a lot more of a possibility.  A few years later I got a computer and whiz-bang-boom I was amazed.  What had been such a painful process wasn't so bad after all.  I actually enjoyed writing for the first time in my life.

Most writing that I did for the next several years were standard academic writing mixed with emails.   Then nearly 2 years ago I started this little blog.  I wrote nearly weekly little quips about our life here at the Hen's House.  Some funny-ish, some more of a look into my heart.   But, I truly fell in love with writing when this blog was birthed.

I loved writing those little post  not always knowing exactly who would read them, but sharing my heart and life with those readers.   I got a lot of positive feedback and truly looked forward to blogging.  That first year I wrote nearly 40 post. 

Then, the past year I have only written twice.  Two little post.  As someone who thoroughly enjoys reading blogs I have noticed that is not an uncommon occurrence.  There are many bloggers, for whatever reason, they just stop writing.   Their blogs just get lost in cyberspace.

I don't want that to happen to my little blog.   I have been thinking about why I stopped blogging about a year ago and haven't really be able to discern what made me stop.  I always thought it would be cool that several years from now if my children were able to read my post to laugh and cry about how life looked when they were little.  That's something I still want.  Sort of a recorded history of things like this, or this, or this jewel.   Unfortunately so much of the richness of life from the past year has not be written.  That's probably one of my biggest regrets in not keeping up with this blog.

But, who is to say we can't give it another go?  Yes, let's do that.  So, we will call this The Hen's House 2.0.  A second go at tending to my little blog.  My goal is to write a couple post each week.  I hope that you enjoy it and spend some time here.  And to everyone else welcome back!

Overwhelmed

Hello...  it's me, LeeAnn.  You may have forgotten me it has been so long.   I know, I am the worst blogger in the history of bloggers.   Forgive pray-tell?

Thank you...  Well, I'm assuming you forgave me and if not, you likely aren't reading any longer.  Either way, let's move on from my neglect and talk about other things.

Life has been, in a word, overwhelming the last year.   Trial after trial has came by way of the Hen's House.   Just to give you peek into what's been going on...  As I type this I am all hopped up on Tylenol (regular strength... don't call A&E's Intervention just yet) from my SECOND wreck of 2012 (read, it is mid-February).  

I am resisting the STRONG urge to list everything that has happened this past year.   Every last ounce of my sore body would like to do just that to make this a poor, pitiful me blog post.   I am sure at the end of it you would likely agree it's been a rough year.   You would likely say things like, "Oh, LeeAnn...  I had no idea.  I am so sorry."  Or, "Wow... stinks to be you!"  But, all that would do is give me sympathy and bring attention to myself.  

The truth of the matter is this... it has been a rough year and there really isn't an end in sight.  My momma assures me the end will only be death. That troubles are just a part of life.  She's had a very rough year (mine really pales in comparison), too. 

But, I have had 2 realizations as we have entered into this season of our lives. 

1. Though we have had several trials, many minor and a few major, our blessings have greatly outweighed our troubles.  
2. More importantly, through trials we have been brought closer together as a family and more dependent upon the mercy and love of God.  

So, instead of focusing on the sadness and hardships this year has given us, I wanted needed to type this post as a reminder to myself of all the beautiful things we have been given.  

-Jesus in our hearts, marriage, and home.  

-Our babies know Him and love Him and boldly tell others about Him. 

-We are alive, we are together, we are healthy.  The Lord has spared both mine and Major's lives multiple times this past year...   there has to be a purpose for that.  Not to mention the countless times in which we are unaware.

-The Rooster loves me and our marriage has grown in beautiful ways this past year. 

-Oh!  And I love him too.  

-I get to kiss the cutest two babies in world goodnight each night. 

-We have a roof over head, shoes on our feet, and food in our bellies (um... considering the emotional eating that I've been doing, plenty of food in mine in particular).

-We have an extended family we love and loves us back. 

-We have a church family we love and loves us back.

-We had good insurance for the first wreck and I was able to get a sweet new ride when my not so sweet ride was totaled.

-The folks who hit me today have insurance, so my sweet new ride will be fixed (I promise to never use the term sweet new ride again in my whole Caucasian, rural, mom life).

-Oh, and you want to know the good thing about having 2 wrecks in just a months time?  Experience, baby!   I actually knew where to find my registration this time and I didn't even lose the police report, yet.

-For today, I have a job I love.  I've got the very best boss in the entire world and wonderful coworkers.  

-Our heat pump decided to die on us over the weekend, but we have awesome friends and family who lent us heaters and and thanks to Dave Ramsey had an emergency fund to fix it.  

-My precious Bub, whom I was afraid I was going to watch die in his hospital bed last Christmas, is whippn' some tail in wrestling.   

-I haven't killed the dog yet.   Um.... moving on.

-My dad has had a rough past few months with surgery and such, but he finally seems to be doing better.   Well, minus the stomach bug I just heard about.

-My mom is going back to Jackson, MS for a work trip.   I am not going to elaborate on that one, but it is a biggie. 

-My father-in-law was told a couple months ago by his oncologist that he is truly out of the woods with his cancer and even the doctor didn't think he would ever be able to tell him that.  

-My mother-in-law made it to her 1 year anniversary this past year and still going strong.  

-We've been given some awesome new group of friends who we love and make us laugh.   Gooooo Enthusiastic Hammers!. :-)  This has been a long asked prayer of mine. 

-I am fairly certain that I am in the process of getting a fever blister from my nerves being so rattled, but about 6 months ago I was introduced to Campho-Phenique.  Which while it taste terrible, is thebomb.com so I may not look like a tomato is growing off the side of my mouth in the morning.

-Weigles has Pumpkin Cappuccino in February.  Weird, but I'm not complaining.

-I actually remembered my blogger.com password.   Impressive!

So, just between those kisses to that fall time caffeine delight being available today, I am very blessed.  But, above all that I am thankful today that I know that I can cling to His promise from Psalm 34:18 that during this difficult season that He is near me always, but especially now.  

If my momma is right, and she usually is, then more likely than not any given person who is reading this is going through some type of sadness or difficulties.  So, I hope that whatever hurt you are feeling, that you will be encouraged to not focus on that sadness, but to focus on the good that is going on around you regardless of if it there in spite of or even because of your pain.  I hope that that overwhelmed feeling you may also be feeling becomes not because of the trials in your life, but because you are overwhelmed by the good things in your life.  

In closing, I want to share with you a song I love.  I particularly love the line that states:

Hearts are stronger, after broken
Wake on up from your slumber,
Come one open up your eyes.

Slumber- Video is goofy, but listen to the song

We Don't Need No Education...

It seems impossible that yesterday we brought Bub home from the hospital and now "it" is here.  "It" is something I have thought about hundreds of times since he was born and yet it has somehow snuck up on me.  "It" has been the mile marker (in my mind at least) of when he is truly transitioning from a baby to a child.   But, the clothes are picked out.  The Mystery Machine lunchbox and homemade, coordinating tote bag are ready. He's got a slick new haircut and he's even been brushing his teeth twice a day (don't judge my parenting).  So, other that me emotionally, we are ready for "it" to happen.  He is officially going to start kindergarten. There has many tears and gnashing of teeth. 

Well the gnashing of teeth has primary been from this guy:

But, there has certainly been plenty of tears on my end.  Tears of happiness over the strong child he has become.   Tears of sadness realizing that "yesterday" that we brought him home has already been over 5 years ago.  Tears of hope on whom he is becoming.  Tears of gratitude that I get to see him every morning.   And tears of confusion and doubt on what this chapter will look.

I have been thinking a lot lately (well... lately actually meaning the past 5 years) about what I hope Bub's teacher is like.  And I think more than anything my hope for her is that she sees her job as not preparing Bub for 1st grade, but for life while doing everything she can to preserve and appreciate who he is today.

Because let's be honest.  He's the bomb.

Someday...

I have significantly neglected my blog the past couple months.   I apologize.  If it makes you feel any better I have also significantly neglected my diet.  And for what it is worth, I have missed the blog a heck of a lot more than the diet.  

Amen?  Amen!

Life has been...   I am trying to think of a smart analogy here, but I can't.  Life has simply been life.  

Being in the Early Childhood Education field suits me well for many reasons.  I get to see beautiful babies daily.  I get to see the wonder and amazement of when a young child learns a new skill.   I don't have to do higher order math.   It's great.   Another reason that it suits me so well is because it gets to feed my addiction to children's books.   There are so many simple, unpompous truths in children's literature. 

There are reasons that we give new graduates Dr. Seuss's Oh, The Places You'll Go.  Uncomplicated, yet important messages such as "You'll be on your way up! / You'll be seeing great sights! / You'll join the high fliers / who soar to high heights" it is a book in which the words can envelope them in a hug letting you know that adulthood is going to be alright.

Likewise, every expectant mother is bound to receive a copy of Rober Munsch I Love You Forever under the guise of "being for baby".   Yet, as she reads through tear-filled eyes to her expanded abdomen the sing-song reoccurring line of "I love you forever/ I like you for always/ As long as I'm living/ My baby you'll be" it becomes clear that the message is not for that tiny baby, but rather an anthem of the unconditional love already felt for the child.  

I could go on and on about beloved children books that are simple, yet profound.   Written in language that is understandable by children, but a message that can only be understood by an adult's mind.   I have many loves when it comes to children's literature, however, my most beloved children's book is entitled Someday  by Allison McGhee.

I cannot say enough good things about this book.  I can vividly remember standing in Barnes & Noble at the 74th week of  pregnancy with Goose (yes... I had the gestation of an elephant with her) looking for a book to "give" her when she was born (that's another story for another day... after growing a baby elephant you don't come to the delivery empty handed).   I was thumbing through the books when I stumbled upon Someday.  On the first page I was hooked by the beautiful illustration of a mother savoring her just born baby girl.   Then came the accompanying text, "One day I counted your fingers and kissed each one."  

I am fairly certain I cried from that first line until the last.   The book follows the life cycle of being a mother and celebrates all the things that she anticipates her daughter experiencing.  


Someday your eyes will be filled with a joy so deep that they shine.

Someday you will run so fast and so far your heart will feel like fire.

Someday you will swing high- so high, higher than you ever dared swing.

In approximately 20 pages the life of this little girls is laid out.   But, as I mentioned at the beginning of this blog, life is life.  And sometimes life isn't pretty.   And as the mother in Someday tells her daughter that Someday you will hear something so sad that you will fold up with sorrow.  

Sadly, last week I heard something that has me folded up with sorrow that has been at times unbearable.   My heart is broken and several of the people's whom I love the most hearts are broken.  And sadly, this part of "life" is of the most unfair variety and there is absolutely nothing that I can do to make it better.   And the truth of the matter is there is nothing that can every make this part of what is now our lives "better".  

However, I have come to realize in the past few days that though there is nothing that is going to take this sorrow away that (to paraphrase McGhee) "Someday, we will look back and realize that it is just small part of who we are and it is not what defines who we are to become."  

There will again be happiness.  Goodness will again become apparent.  This ugliness can never go away, but it does not mean that it has to turn us into ugly people.   And that "Someday your eyes will {again} be filled with a joy so deep that they shine." 

10 Things that Happened on Vacation (Warning... someone gets pooped on)

When I was a little girl, I loved the Bernstein Bears book series.   One of my favorite is Too Much Birthday in which Sister Bear learns that you can have too much of a good thing.   Lots of  times I leave vacation feeling that way.  That it was all just too much to the point that I'm sick of it.   However, having just gotten home from a week long family vacation to Panama City Beach, I can say that this trip was different.   It was just right.  

I think that this picture sums it up.  In the nearly 3 years that they have been siblings and she's been alive, I believe this is the only picture I have them them both smiling and/or not picking their nose.   It really was a great trip.


So, here are the top 10 highlights of our vacation. 


10.   We got an 9 day break from this guy.  

It was lovely.  

9.  The Rooster made friends with a group of professional dancers (not the Broadway kind either) from Kentucky who sat beside us everyday at the beach.  So long Yolanda, Carissa, and K.C.  

8.   We saved two small fish that we are fairly certain are baby sharks.   We are hopeful that us showing them kindness will result in them not eating anyone in the future.   We apologize in advance if they eat you.

7.  We went down with a 4 year-old little boy and came home with a 5 year-old.   Many tears have been shed over this.

However, he has apparently lifted his backwards underwear ban.   This makes so many things right in my world.  

5.  My parents and sister came down for part of the week.  My sister decided we needed to rent a jet ski. So, I took my newly turned 5 year-old and 17 year-old sister jet skiing in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico.  

We had a great time until we all  fell off.    We then climbed back on.  Then one sister noticed that the other sister's body parts were hanging out of her bathing suit.   Then I cussed that we were in the middle of the ocean and my baby was going to get ate by a shark who cares if I have body parts hanging out because no one can see them anyways  that person modestly corrected the problem.  Then we fell off again.   Then it was time to go back.  

There will not be an accompanying picture of this activity.  You're welcome.  

4.  My children became pirates. Well, Bub became a pirate.  Goose told them she was not becoming a pirate then screamed and swung her sword at them. 

Very scary, indeed.  

3.   Within the first 10 minutes of being on the beach the first day  I got pooped on by a seagull.  You always hear what to do if a jellyfish stings you ("Somebody pee on me fast!") or you see a shark ("Play dead!"... wait, that may be a bear, never mind), but no one ever tells you what to do when a seagull poops on your head.  

Apparently they don't know I'm a friend of sharks.  

2.  We played putt-putt.   I think that Goose was pretending she was Yolanda. 

1.   We got to put everything in the world away for a week.  I hope that this trip was one of those things they keep with them for a long time.

10 Things I Love About the Rooster

The Rooster and I have been married for 6 years.  The marriage was the result of two years of when the Rooster came a courtn' and decided he wanted to put a ring on it.  That's almost 8 years for mathematically challenged readers. 

When our relationship began, I was just a wee babe.  He was 7 years my elder robbed the proverbial cradle.   In our time together he has gotten older, as most people do over the years.   I, on the other hand, have not.   Amazing, really.  





And yes, that is a picture of a picture.  Don't judge.  

But, back then, when he was 8 years younger and I was the exact same age I am now, our lives were fairly different than they are now.  

Then... 

We went out at least two nights a week.

We made plans spontaneously.  

He would try to help me keep beat to songs on the radio by clapping along.  

We would talk about our future.  

Now....  

We go out about twice every 6 months.

Plans are made weeks in advanced and are dependent upon no one getting sick.  

He has figured out I'm tone deaf and turns up the radio if I try to sing along.  

We try to be completely present in the present everyday.  

Life has changed, but he's still the same guy I fell in love years ago.  So with no further ado, here is 10 (of many) Things I Love About the Rooster

10.   He is a great dancer.  Unless he starts singing.   Then it's just time to go home.  

9.  Anytime there is a mouse within a 10 mile radius of our house, he takes care of it.  And by take care of it, I mean he doesn't let me know it was ever born because he knows I will threaten to move.  

8.  He does the laundry!  As in, all of the laundry!    Every week!

7.  He does the laundry!  I love that one so much it is worth mentioning again.  

6.   He loves and is really good to our family (ours, his, and mine).  

5.   He has more sayings than there are children in Buttbust City.   So go get your  run out as you dance with the one who brought you because he is very handy .   Face!

4.  The dog listens to him.   This really should be number one because he is the only reason the dog is not been turned into to Scooby Snacks.   Scoobs is eternally grateful.  

3.   He works hard.  And by saying he works hard, I mean that he watches Youtube videos, quotes lines from The Office, and makes $1 dollar bets on who can balance a pencil on their nose the longest with his work buddies.    (I'm kidding....   he hasn't had time for those frivolous bets with the Kentucky Derby going on this past weekend.   Nevermind all they hail he's been dealing with of late.)

2.   He is hands-down, undeniably, 100% the funniest person I have ever met.  He makes me laugh everyday.  

1.  He's wonderful husband and father.   He's my best friend and I look forward to spending my life with him as he grows old and I stay the same age.   

Love you,
RHC

We're Having....

A really good weekend. 

So why, the above picture?  Well, first off to freak out my mother.  Hahahahahaha... sorry, Momma.   And in case anyone is confused, no I am not pregnant.  

Secondly, tomorrow is Mother's Day and I cannot help but reflect on my almost 5 years of being a momma myownself.  

Motherhood has been so much more than I ever thought I could be. 

More happiness than I could ever articulate. 

More (emotional) pain  than I ever thought I could feel.  

More laughter...

More tears...

More joy...

More fears...

Okay, before I turn this into a Dr. Seuss poem (I love them when they eat soup, I love them even when they poop, I love them more than our chicken coop) let me get to my point.  Motherhood changed my heart in more ways than What to Expect When You're Expecting (and Karen and Amber, if you are reading this see above note to my mother concerning the current occupancy of my womb)told me it would.   Yes, the book was  right that my hair, my skin, my body, and my sleep are all completely changed. 

However, WEWE (I don't know if that is the official abbreviation, but just go with it because the title of the book is long, however, now I'm realize it is not nearly as long as typing out this explanation of why I put WEWE.....  err, I've always like to shorten, even before pregnancy when I was a courtn') did not mention anything about how your mind changes.   How the very lens in which you view your life and the world changes.  

At approximately 1 month and 2 days after this... 



And 4 hours before this...

Is when the way that I view every thought, feeling, emotion, relationship, connection I had in my world changed so that I no longer saw it through LeeAnn's eyes.  At that very instant is when I began to view the world through the eyes of Bub's Mother.  

In that very instant that he entered the world I got what no book, website, or experienced mother could have told me.   For the rest of my life, regardless of what experiences I have, I will always firstly look at every situation through this new lens.  

Every hurting, sick, or mistreated child I see becomes my babies.  

Every decision I make, I will think about the impact it will make on them.  

Every person I have in my life will be at the consideration of the impact they will have on my family.  

Every scary news story I watch the thoughts of what this will mean for my children. 

They are always present in my thoughts, are the focus of many of my daily conversations, and the consumers of the majority of my energy.   And for the rest of my life, when they are gone and grown I know that is where they will remain.  

And even when one of them is smacking me in the head with Llama, Llama Red Pajamas in an effort to get me to finish typing a blog (er... not that would be happening at this very moments by my sweet cherub), I am grateful to be a mother this Mother's Day.   I am grateful to be their mother this Mother's Day.