introduction of the crazies

"Honey, you've got a lot of interesting things about you"  my husband says.  I say, "Like what?"  He replies, "well... I'm not going to sit here and just name them off."  Uh, thanks.

I do know that there are some interesting things about me.  But having kids, "I" have disappeared.  Don't think that I'm depressed or upset, it's just a fact.  I have disappeared.  I know I'm there, somewhere underneath the baby vomit in my hair, or the poop on my shirt.  I'm there.  Having children, "I", has become "we".  And yes, motherhood has its moments (like wanting to bang my head into the wall), I do love it and wouldn't trade it for a thing.

I have 3 children.  Four, if you include my husband, who (women, I know you will understand this) is a man-child.  Keith, I love you dearly,  but if I have to find your dirty underwear on my dining room table one more time... I want to look all big and tough right now, but I'm not- I will pick it up and put it in the dirty clothes basket.  Because let's face it, I'm just like my mother--a neat freak.  I will say, with Keith, there's never a dull moment.  And I really can't complain, because from December to September, I really have control of the TV, otherwise, it's on college football (Go Gators) or ESPN.

Our oldest is Ansley who will be SIX (I can't believe it) in two weeks.  She is one of the most loving girl I've ever seen.  She will hold your hand and cuddle with you for hours.  She's also very sneaky.  Kinda like that butler from the movie Mr. Deeds, very sneaky.  She will hit her sister and then quickly move back and say, "Oh, Logan, what happened?"  Like Logan won't tattle on her or something.  We are starting to see that girl drama coming alive in her.  Rolling of the eyes, looking at me like she's just disgusted, drawing pictures of her husband and their 8 children, etc.  She is an awesome big sister and is such a big helper to me.  She recently asked Jesus into her heart and was baptized.  We couldn't have been prouder of her than that day.

Logan (aka Logie Bear, LoLo, Lo, Lo'Quan--she'll basically answer to anything beginning with the Lo sound) is the second/middle child.  I swear she was born knowing she was going to be the middle child.  She came into the world making an entrance (so sick we almost lost her) and everyday she makes sure we still know she's there.  She is the loudest child I have EVER heard.  So much so, that my mom wanted me to ask the pediatrician if her hearing was ok.  Our doctor just smiled and said, yes, her hearing is fine, she's just a loud child.  My family likes to tell me that she is the spitting image of me in not only looks but personality.  IDK, I really don't see it.  I don't think I could ever been that crazy.  I called everyone to dinner a couple of nights ago and we waited on Logan, and finally here she comes butt naked, sits down and proceeds to eat.  I asked her where her clothes were and she said, "I don't know, I lost them".  That's our Logan.

Our last is Brooks.  Sweet and happy Brooksie.  He is the best baby and is 6 months old.  It's hard to believe that our baby is already 6 months.   He does keep me on my toes, or in my closet changing my clothes.  He had 3 outfit changes today and I had 4.  My first change this morning was because of him spitting up on my shirt and it landing in my crouch.  Second, was him spitting up on my tank top.  Third, was him pooping all over me.  My brother can attest to this, since the discovery was made while I was on the phone with him.  I have made it thru the day with my fourth shirt on.  Doesn't mean that it doesn't have something baby related on it, it's just not enough to go change it.  And before you go and get all disgusted with that (talking to you women with no children), just wait until you get there.  You will just rub the spit up in and move on too.  If I were to ever invent something, it would be adult bibs.  Burp clothes just don't do it.  They would be fashionable, light and poop/spit up proof.

Well this is my life.  I kinda like it.