The Joke's On Me. And Osmosis Genetics.

Well, it finally happened.  Sleet is slushing from the sky.  A wonderful combination of snow and rain.
Not that I actually enjoy it, but sometimes it's nice when a storm blows through. 

This, of course, affects The Man and his ability to work outside.

So he gets to play stay-at-home dad today.  Which includes making sure the kids are dressed (I have a feeling that matching will be optional today), making sure that chores get done, and then he gets to haul all six to the dentist.

This, of course, makes me giggle inside.

Have you ever sat in a dentist's waiting room while you wait for six kids to cycle through cleanings with one dentist?

I hope he has a good book.

Which I know he doesn't so I giggle a little more.

But truthfully I think the joke's on me. 

If The Man is staying home and shuffling The Circus to the dentist then he needs the Navi. 

That leaves me with... the monster truck.

Seriously guys.

The hood of this monster truck is as tall as the regular truck in front of me.

And the drive-thru window at McD's?

(Curse you McDonald's Coke for sucking me in!)

(Why is McDonald's not endorsing all of my plugs with free cokes?)

They had to reach up to me.

Actually, I got a peppermint hot chocolate this morning.

 

It's the simple things in life.

 

Speaking of the simple things in life.

 

Brynn, October 2002, 1 year old

Brynn, Christmas night, December 25, 2003, 2 years old

 Seriously, I love this crying picture of Brynn.  She just did not want Christmas to end.

Brynn's biker bum, January 2004, 2 years old

 When we lived on the farm, and it was snowy and cold and winter time, and I only had two kids old enough to ride a bike (with training wheels of course) I let them ride inside the farm house.

Baby T-Bug, October 2004, 1 year old

She gets her chocolate brown eyes from Grandpa Dick.

 

We like to say this because it's impossible.  Grandpa Dick is my step-dad so there are no physical genetics crossing over here.  But still, sometimes you have to wonder if things like this happen by osmosis? Because even though my ex has brown eyes, his are more like root beer float than like chocolate.

 

It's the same as how I get my allergies from Grandpa Dick.

 

I don't question it.

Memory Lane: 2004 Quincy, Washington

I have a bunch of pictures from a long time ago that never got put into a scrapbook. 

You know, that hobby I used to have before I discovered blogging.

I don't want to lose these pictures so I'm going to start throwing them up here on the blog.  And I'll try to remember as well as I can stories or details that go with them. 

Just more that I want to keep recorded for my family.

I have the pictures sorted in sheet protectors, grouped into the pages that I wanted to create for my scrapbooks, so I just randomly grabbed a sheet protector out of the pile.  I found it fitting as it takes us back to Quincy (which I just wrote about a little bit here) so it's fun to be able to add some of my own pictures for that place. 

Not that these are great pictures or anything, they hardly do the countryside or farmland justice, but it shows our life there a little bit.

Let's go back to the year 2004.

Cas was 4, Brynn was 3, and Tay was a baby.  I think I took this picture because of how Brynn is swinging.  She refused to do it any other way for quite a long time.  That girl has always had her ideas on how she wants things and isn't about to sway from what she wants easily.  She'd push off the ground with her legs, pull them up, and just coast a long on her stomach until she needed to push off again.

The yard on the other side of the fence belong to my brother and sister-in-law (at the time) and the house in the background belonged to my brother-in-law's parents, who owned the farm.  These were my only neighbors and I loved them dearly.  It was nice to have them around when I got really lonely.

This was the time in my life when my girls wore pink cowboy hats with camo shirts, carhart pants, and waffle stompers. 

I'll be completely honest and say that I don't miss camo.

At all.

This picture was taken on the timer.  I have Tay in my stroller, Cas and Brynn have their baby dolls.  We're trekking out of the house to the mailbox.  It was about a 15 minute walk from our house down the "drive" to the mailbox which sat on the main road.  The main road was paved but nothing on the farm we lived on was. 

I actually didn't mind it. In this picture you can see all the old farm equipment laying around in pieces, but really, this was only a small part of the farm.  Our yard (as somewhat seen in the first pic) was full of green grass and was perfect for growing kids to run around on.  I've never had much of a green thumb, I kill every plant I've ever tried to keep, but this was farm country.  I was obsessed with ridding my grass of dandelions which resulted in the greenest, softest grass I've ever had in a yard.  I tried my hand at tomato plants and was harvesting them by the bushel.  I've not been able to grow a tomato since.

We ate eggs every day, collected from our own chickens.

I don't miss chickens. 

They stink.

Badly.

The one time we butchered a chicken I found I couldn't eat it.  It stayed in the freezer until I finally threw it out with freezer burn.

I'm better off thinking of my meat coming from the freezer section than from my yard.

A thought for today.  I saw it posted on facebook and loved it.  How true it is.