T.h.r.e.e

My baby is three years old today. I know you're thinking 'he's not a baby anymore'. The thing is, to me, he still is. Maybe I want to hold on to his 'baby years' so badly that I just can't see him any other way. He's my last, you know, so give me a break.

So, Happy Birthday to John M. My boy, my only boy. Thank you, John, for showing me what it's like to mother a boy. Thanks for showing me all the differences, big and small. Thanks for loving to pee outside. Thanks for liking things with wheels; trains, trucks, tricycles, if it goes, you like it. Thanks for sweet little sloppy boy kisses that you wipe off as soon as you give them out. Thanks for being jealous when Daddy tries to hug me or lay next to me. Thank you for reminding me of 'June' all the time and knowing that a little piece of him exists in you.

I love you, my boy.

My Mom 'Catch-Phrase'

Thought I'd jot down this phrase I catch myself saying over and over to my daughters.

Usually preceded by them telling me they don't WANT to do something or don't feel like doing something.

Me: "I do LOTS of things I don't want to do."

Usually to be followed by 'So, that's life' or 'Get used to it'.

I say this all the time. Do you have a phrase like that? If so, please share.

John-isms

I was commenting to Anna yesterday about one of the moms at soccer practice (she's a tiny, little petite lady); I said 'Oh yeah, she's a little tiny lady'.

John M. chimes in, 'Yeah, mama, you a little not very little'. An insult, slightly in disguise.

This one comes straight from his sisters' example.

At the age of 2 now, 'Mama, you gettin' me so agwahvated!'.

There was another one I wanted to share but my old brain can't remember what it was.

I'll share a picture from our church fair this past weekend:

Blog-slug

I just noticed how long it's been since I've posted. La-zy, that's me.
I'm still alive, I've just been blog-neglectful.
John M. has had a weird stomach virus for the past 5 days that he just can't seem to
quite get over. I had a touch of it over the weekend, and now Anna has it too, although
not nearly as bad as he had it. I cleaned up more vomit in the last week than I ever
care to see in my remaining lifetime.
Jealous, eh?

Basketball, soccer, art and school are now in full swing, so I don't see home much
anymore. The inside of my car, I see all too often.

The weather has finally cooled off a little, as in it's not boiling hot out. It's been in the lower
90s. Woo-hoo! That's actually 'cool' for this place. I have some photos I want to post, but
don't have them uploaded yet. Slacking, part 2.

So, just checking in to do this post about nothing. I'll be back soon.

The Hunt

I come from a land of hunters. Hunting and fishing are huge down here. Last Saturday was the opening day of 'Dove Season', and my father-in-law, who is big on hunting, invited Mark and my boy on what would be John's first hunt. Mark bought him some little headphones to wear, and of course, we had to coordinate the whole 'camo' outfit (because if you're hunting, you have to look good, right?!).

Here he is on the way back home. They actually got a few doves and Mark even BBQed a couple for Labor Day. Eiuuu. I stayed far, far away. Have I mentioned I don't like to eat cute, little forest creatures (deer, rabbits, squirrels, doves, etc)? Mark said John had a good first experience, but was WIPED OUT afterwards.