Genetics are strange.

I look like my mother.

My father vs. my son:





About the only thing Dan can claim on him are his legs and feet. Let’s hope we can eventually add Dan’s height to the list!



I have reached one of my major parenting goals.


I have a kid with a complete front tooth gap; a phenomenon that is pretty much placed a hairsbreadth behind fatty baby thighs on the human child cuteness continuum.

This right here,

this is Mom fuel.


“Dear Genevieve,

I love you sow much. Do you like ice cream? Do you like me?

Love, Payne”

He said “Here G-veev! I made this for you. Do you like it? I worked REALLY hard on it.”

I’m good through another sixish months of backseat cage fighting now.

I love them.

So this morning Dan and I were attempting to sleep in, between little feet pattering in and out of our room, and little voices having to “tell you supping.”

I eventually asked Payne to close our door. He obliged, locking the dogs in. After a few feeble wails for him to come let them out, he tried. They were uninteresed in following him. And G yelling “DOGS! GET OUT!” mysteriously didn’t lure them towards her.

I told Payne to go get their treats. He did. I told him to give them each one in the kitchen, as I heard the treats land on the bedroom carpet.

The bedroom door closed, I heard dogs crunching. I sighed heavily.

I heard the door open, and Payne’s voice pipe in “When you’re done with those treats, come out.” (Door closes)

So close, yet so far.

Also, G informed us at lunch, while eating barbeque’d pork, that she doesn’t like “toasted pig.”

Kids are pretty much the best.  


Sorry it’s been so long.

We were moving!

I’m so tired. So very tired. Like, complex sentences are beyond my capability right now.

But! I have photos


Appropriate road trip wardrobe furnished by Auntie Becca.


Seat warmers slightly mend the effects of old dogs learning new places trauma. Dan and I are still betting Stella will die of spite, perfectly centered in our master bedroom doorway, just as she leaves us all of her other tokens of discontent.


“Oh em gee! I’m not in the car!”





Child labor laws are pretty lax in Oklahoma. (Fist pump)



Those built ins seemed like such a good idea at the time…



Stella tried to off herself by sleeping in a plastic bag. Ethel did her usual “I want to BE you” self soothing.

On to new adventures!