Wild Child

My baby girl, the heart of my heart, my beautiful daughter.

This week you have taken about 10 years off my life.

You are so very different than your brother.  So different.  He was (is) a cautious watcher, who weighs his options and observes life around him. 

You my dear?  Dive face first into everything you do.  Both literally and figuratively.  I believe your personal motto is "Go hard or go home".  Which is also different from me since my personal motto is "Stay fancy, ya'll". 

Can I just tell you how many times you've scared me this week?  Saturday night we went to Walmart.  I know.  Big plans there.  I had you up front like always, and you were sitting so nicely.  I turned to the side to grab a can of icing and when I turned back you were sitting on the handle of the cart, feet in the seat, talking to your brother (in the basket) like it was no big thing.  Visions of you falling backwards onto the cold hard tile consumed me as I snatched you up lightening fast.  I placed you back in the seat properly, and confined you with the buckle (side note, not once did I even have to THINK about buckling Luke in.  Just sayin).  We continued shopping for a few more minutes, making our way to the rotisserie chickens.  Again, I turned to the side to pick one out, and I turned back just in time to see you topple into the basket, backwards.  See, the buckle created a pivot point so when you tried to stand up all you could do was go back.  I didn't know what else to do but to carry you, squirmy-almost-30-lb-girl, around with one arm while trying to push the full cart with the other.  Shopping didn't last too much longer after that.

I say NO!! more times in one day than I ever thought possible, and I can't count the number of times I have dug odd objects out of your mouth.  Nor do I care to recount what those odd object were.  I keep a pretty clean house, so I'm not really sure where you find it all.  And for all of your meddlings, you aren't even all that crazy about it.  You're attitude is so calm and chill, with looks of "Heck yeah I'm 15 stairs up when I'm not supposed to be here at all.  Whatevs."  Case in point: Bubba reads while you pull everything out of the pantry while I cook dinner.

But that face.  How can that face do anything but kill me with cuteness?  I love you.  I love you a thousand times over.

And not to leave Brother out, Luke got a hair cut this week.  He's so handsome.  And funny as all get out.  Last night we had small groups at my house.  He and Dakota were playing in his room, when all of the sudden he comes running up to me and askes if they can build a forest.  Unsure of what that meant, I asked him to tell me how he would build this forest.  "Wif polite words!"  I told him if he could build a forest with polite words, he was more than welcome to.  Come to find out he meant "fort" instead of "forest".  But I was okay with that too. 

We've been taking time for the little things.  Funny faces.  Science experiments. 

 Sunday afternoon we went to watch a friend play hockey.  A good time was had by all.

Luke enjoyed running up and down the stairs with intermittent shouts of GO! and Evan just wanted to follow him around with occiassional shrieks and clapping.

And me?  I spent most of the weekend cleaning before everyone came over on Sunday.  I took an hour and a half on just the kitchen so pretty much I'm never cooking again.  I also finally, after a long break, finished that hoop for the bedroom. 

I haven't had anything in my Etsy shop since I've started working because I don't have time to get the sewing machine out anymore, but this was all hand sewn- not nearly the mess of the baby stuff like before.  Whatddaya think? Could I put this kinda thing in there?  (obviously I'd put a little more effort into spacing and stitching than I did here.  This is my bed room wall.  Me and my hypothetical cat are the only ones who will see it.)