(check out the green phone cord, and what the heck was I eating? chocolate cake? haha!)
Funny how little pet names we give our kids can stick around. Brady will always be my "bug" or "bunch" like he has been for almost 17 years, and Bo, my "buddy." My Grandma Wilma (did you know I have the Flintstone grandmas? Wilma and Betty. No kidding.) has called me "skeeterbug" ever since I can remember; even though I'm 40 something, she still does, and I wouldn't change it for the world. Just out of the blue a few days ago, Katie became got called my "skeeterbug."
She has tons of other nicknames, but there is a strong resemblance there to this one. :) I stuck pretty darn close to my grandma as a little girl, and this chatterbox sticks pretty darn close to me too. I've been missing that grandma of mine...and remembering all the times we spent sewing, playing in her sewing shop, listening to grandpa watch baseball, and eating goulash and red beans and cornbread. I still ask her to make it when I see her.
Once upon a time two little boys ate Happy Meals in the middle seat of a Ford minivan. Not quite willing to eat the last few fries, they launched them out the door screaming, "feed the birdies!!" And so my journal of a road through motherhood and wifedom, with a little bit of crafting on the side...where everybirdy gets a french fry. And we're all happy about it.