Because if Nash was looking for me, and he called me Amy...that is what he would say. Yo yah?
Imagine that, in the 3 month hiatus I took from the blog the baby started talking. Oh wait, and he turned 2. So technically he isn't a baby any more. Oh crap, when did that happen?
Luckily for me, while I have fallen off the face of the Earth lately...I have been able to watch my kids grow. And yes, I still wonder how in the world baby Nash just turned 2, but I am so glad I took more time out of my day to notice it. My last post about refusing the rat race really hit home for me. I challenged myself to change. And well, for those that know me...this will be no surprise, I tend to love a challenge. And even more so, I tend to like to blow the socks off of things. I am one of those people that is so competitive I don't even like to compete. Real obnoxious, I know. That right there is probably the sole reason I never played professional basketball. Well, that and the fact that I am 4'11" and have no desire to play basketball. But, you get the point.
In the last 3 months I have had a blast. I am really loving living in Athens. I never imagined life could be so fun. I don't think I took the time to realize exactly how stressed out I was in Jackson, spending every waking minute devoted to brownie-goose, and trying to survive the life of the wife of a resident. I am not so laid back that I no longer shave under my arms (although Byron may want to disagree with me there) and am at the point of burning my bras, but I am finally at a point that I realize the only thing I HAVE to do in the day is make sure my kids are fed, loved, clean, etc and anything extra is just a bonus. It is the most liberating thing in the world. I no longer cringe when I move the same item from my to-do list from Monday to Tuesday to Wednesday and then later just forgetting it and marking it off completely. Shit happens, and as long as you watch out not to step it in...it will all be right as rain.
Now, while I am busy tooting glitter and unicorns, let me bring myself back to reality and be honest and say things aren't always fabulous. Let's not get carried away. I still have 2 young hooligans that try my patience and make me
want to drink too much wine on occasions. I still have moments where I yell at them and then am absolutely MORTIFIED with myself only minutes later wishing I could take it back. But, that is life, and life with Louisa and Nash is faaaaaar from perfect, but it is pretty fun. Not to mention entertaining.
I find I don't take as many pictures anymore. I think this is mostly because with Nash I usually have my hands full. Plus, he never stays still long enough to focus on, much less to capture a moment.
With that said...sit back, grab a cold one (or water, if you want to be square, haha just kidding. kinda) and get ready for 3 months worth of photos. I promise not to do this again. Or at least, I think I promise.
Picking out of the Chrimma tree. I think we all remember how I feel about a Christmas tree. Yeah, bah humbug I know. I will try to save myself from you thinking I am a total Christmas decoration square by telling you that I made these really fun moss wreaths for all of my windows here on West Clover. I really did love how they turned out, you know me, I am a glutton for non-traditional punishment. After I said a
few dozen or so bad words from getting burned by the stoooopid glue gun and being stuck to my moss by those crazy glue gun stringy things, I hung them up and really liked them. But, I soon realized they kinda clashed with the peeling paint and dirty brick and would look much better if the house were painted and taken care of. Wait, that is a whole other blog post. Stay on track Amy.
Anyways, the kids loved the tree farm. Nash was way more concerned with the stumps, rocks and bugs than anything, but put that child outside and he is good to go.
PS - check out that triangle finger. Oh be still my chubby-baby loving heart. And shame on me, but I cannot help but giggle at the photo below and how Nash's head looks like it is shaped like Frankenstein thanks to some crazy hair.
Byron teased the kiddos by trying to convince them to cut down some non-traditional trees.
I was all for this one. I mean, I can manage a tree like this. No ornaments or lights needed. Score.
But, at the end of the day, we brought home a real tree. And my sweet husband decorated it, put lights on it and took it down. Back off ladies, he's mine.
Back at the homestead, it was time for the Norris family Christmas traditions. Byron reads the Cajun version of 'Twas the night before Christmas.
Mallard guards Santa's cookies while drooling all over the hardwoods.
Murray eats the tree and bats the ornaments all over the floor.
Byron plays old school Nintendo.
And then the magic of Christmas morning. Mallard LOVES Christmas. Poor Lucy didn't get any pics because she doesn't get up the stairs thanks to all her blown ACLs. Poor girl. But I think secretly she enjoys the peace and quiet while all the hooligans (Mallard included) are upstairs.
No wax paper needed on this slide. Whoa nelly.
While I was going through pictures on the camera, I found these of one of the hawks that lives in our backyard. Crazy, right? But I love them. And for more reasons just than they will eat snakes out of my yard. I would probably sound like the biggest nerd ever if I admitted how much time I spend watching them. They are beautiful and a lot of fun to watch. They let you get fairly close (not that I have tried to pet one or anything, but I just know by accident I have looked up only to realized I am feet from one of their dangerously ragged talons). I took these with my 35 mm, just to give you an idea of how close.
Isn't it/he/she beautiful? It hasn't let me close enough to figure out male versus female...I think for the safety of all involved I will refer to it as it forever. They come and go, and I haven't seen them in a few weeks. Which probably explains our little mouse problem. And I wish I meant Nash's obsession with Mickey the mouse. No, I mean rodents. Now, I love an animal. Don't get me wrong, but I am really not into housing of the rodents. Not my kind of thing. But then again, I don't want to kill them either, which explains the overbearing peppermint oil smell in my house and all of the cotton balls stuck in the HVAC registers. Just in case you came over and thought I was weird, or a great housekeeper. The latter is totally true. Promise.
Okay, now that I just spilled the beans about the mice I realize I am rambling. It is time to get up, get some coffee and get back to taxes. Not to forget that little blond fireball that needs getting from school...