Growing up (all the way up until I was about 29) I didn’t think I wanted kids. I just didn’t get it. Why invite the chaos of the grubby little sticky little money burning dream eaters? What’s the draw, exactly?
Then I met D and my ovaries exploded and I got it. I can’t explain it… but I got it.
We have less than pleasant times, to be sure. Take last night for example. Junior was cruising around on his four-wheeler (if riding four-wheelers in the house is wrong, then I don’t wanna be right) when he noticed me close his bathroom door. And screamed his bloody head off. Or when he was in the tub and I shut the water off and he screamed his bloody head off. Or when I poured him white milk instead of chocolate milk and he screamed his bloody head off.
Sidenote: It’s kind of no wonder I never wanted any rugrats. Notice these are the typical stories shared amongst mothers? Oh, the horror.
Anyway, for being so adverse to the idea of rearing little childrens.. I somehow still ended up with the coolest one ever.
A picture from his first Christmas.
And a picture I received this morning of his second Christmas.
Slays. Me. If you find yourself on the fence about making babies, I say go for it. They’re actually pretty cool.
In other news – cross your fingers for us. The epic house hunt of 2013 begins tomorrow and we ride at dawn! Actually we leave at 10:00am from a mutually agreed upon McDonalds parking lot. But still… onward, ho!