Friday, January 30, 2015

My Snotty Sweet Musical Boy

Recently Larkin has started requesting that we sing him songs. In the house. In the car. He wants to hear "Tinkle Sar, "Jindle ah de way", and "Row, Row, Row". One after another after another. When singing "Jindle ah de way" (i.e. "Jingle Bells") I've noticed that no matter how hard I try, I end up spouting the tune in minor and sounding like Tim Burton's characters playing their carols in Halloween Land.

It's beautiful.

It's got me thinking about what weird quirks and habits of mine the little man is going to pick up on.
Is he going to be a grown up singing Christmas carols like bad omens? Will he pronounce "Valentines" as "Valentimes"? Will he have an affinity for anything sugary, procrastinate like the plague, and be scared of touching raw meat and other people's dirty dishes?

It crazy to think that someone is looking to little 25 year old me for his perspective on life. I feel like I left highschool yesterday, not like someone who's qualified to direct another person on how to live.

The little person in question is now crawling onto my lap, to cuddle while he barks like a dog in his  small soprano voice and tries to lick me, but manages only to wipe his snot on my face.

Being a mother is surreal.


Thursday, January 29, 2015

Holy Patootie (add cliche about time here)!

Sooo it's been almost two years since I posted on here. Good gravy things have happened.

My sister had a baby.
Lark's sister had a baby.
I got all fat again and had a baby.
 *The absolute cuteness right? I'm too lazy to ask for permission to post pictures of her new cousins, so just imagine more cuteness in baby form*

There's a lot of babies.
We moved back to America and rediscovered the joys of cheese and enforced safety regulations/codes.
Settled on a ranch in Texas and started working for Lark's dad's company.
*That's Lark working. He doesn't always work on top of vans. Just on good days.*

Larkin's grown up and become a walking, talking 3 year old.

The earth has continued to revolve around the sun and I continue to eat candy like it's going out of style.

It's been a crazy two years. If this were Family Guy, there would be a humorous flashback here, probably involving a lot of baby poop since that's what we've been up to our elbows in. Potty training is a five letter word beginning with a "B" and no, not "bread" or "board". Good guesses though.

We're trying every strategy we can think of. Begging, pleading, redirecting, distracting, bribing, but poor little Larkin just hates the toilet and runs screaming if we catch him trying to go and want to put him on the toilet. He's at the point now where he goes and hides behind chairs to go to the bathroom. I'm thinking eventually he'll get potty trained. He'll probably get embarrassed of the diapers when he's changing in the locker room in middle school and will just potty train himself. At least that's what I'm hoping.

*It'll be this little girl's turn soon enough. Hoooooray!*

Life is good. God is good. We're set up for the zombie apocalypse when it inevitably happens. We're living a good 20 minutes from any store and 40 from any small town worth mentioning. Our seclusion will serve us well when it comes time to avoid the noxious people eaters. Also, we've been working on our gardening and hunting skills, so if you know us and like us enough, it'd probably be to your benefit to give us a shout to get added to the screening list of peoples who can come chill at our country fort when the zombies take over. It's a good idea. Just saying.

Lark is as fantastically silly and hardworking and eccentrically, charmingly, wonderful as he usually is. He's recently taken up brewing his own beer and reading as many Chinese art books at once as he can carry from one room to the next at the same time. He's crazy busy photographing and putting online the odds and ends that are collected for the website (ex: these mummy death shrouds!!)

I believe it's next week that he's scooting off to Dallas for crazy intensive auctioneer training. He will learn very important things for the fine antique business, like the different cuts of beef...Yeah.. It's required by the state...

Not much has changed for me since I've been back. Except I have more hair. For a while it was pink. Then purple. Now an odd sort of red.

It's evidently how I entertain myself now.
 Side note: If it was possible to take coffee intravenously, I would be all about that shiz. Small babies with small stomachs eat too often to allow tired moms to sleep like normal human beings.

More later.
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