Clary Love

I remember as a child/teenager going to my best friend Mandy's house. Mandy's mom would ask us (Mandy) to fold and put away the clothes before we disappeared for hours in play. I always laughed as I grabbed her little sisters clothes. Casey was always the little sister and her stuff was tiny. Tiny panties that looked like they would fit a doll, tiny socks that could fit my cabbage patch that were all by that time packed away in bags in the attic. Mandy would just shake her head at me and go on as I went on and on about how tiny Casey's stuff was. At my house, there was never anything tiny. Tiny was not how we were described and I was the youngest so everything just got bigger. Lots of men's socks stained by baseball dirt, lots of shorts stained by grass, lots of t-shirts that even after they were washed still smelled like boys. Laundry was no funny affair at my house. It is only now that there are tiny things found in my laundry. Tiny baby boy socks, tiny shirts, pants

Nothing is worse than losing something that is not only sentimental but not even yours. I lost a photo card. It holds photos from the last year, photos from the last few months, photos of the last days and moments of my grandmother. I borrowed it cause I wanted to upload a few photos my mom took of Blaine. A very festive and fun picture of our family and a very special one of Blaine in a new homemade shirt, his Big brother shirt. I put it in my pocket and by the time I got home it was gone. I have checked everywhere and so had Bobby. The worst part is I have to tell my mom and I just know it will break her heart to know the photos are no longer here. It breaks my heart and we are kinda kindred spirits. My mom means the world to me and to disappoint her is the worst part about it all. I love my parents,my mom is life my best friend she knows everything about me and I love that.

The sleep patterns of the males in this family have been strange since I entered via marriage almost three years ago. Bobby worked at Hammoc when we got married and loved mornings...weird. I hate mornings. Each work day he was up and out the door by 4 am. He never seemed to struggle walking, no snoozed alarm or just laying there, he simply popped out of bed each morning. When he went to work for EMSA a year later it was nights. He worked all night and slept during the day. The change was not a huge drag for him. He was even able to watch our newborn for the first six months and keep him on a day schedule. Now Bobby works at Hammco again and him and Blaine both go to bed at 8. Blaine currently awakes at least three times a night and refuses to self sooth. I on the other hand find it difficult to go to bed before 9 and surely don't want to awake before 7am.  Not sure what to do right now to survive...praying Blaine joins my.dark side and decides to sleep like mamma or it may get u

Yesterday Blaine and I ventured to the library to our first ever toddler group. It was supposed to be a reading/story time and I just knew he would love it. We arrive fashionably late as we do to just about everything because I am just kind of rockstar mom. The lady who lead the reading was very good, other than she never made eye contact with anyone but the ceiling (I have a very hard time with no eye contact). She had some very creative songs and handmotions to keep kids and parents alike entertained but it was quickly apparent that we were the new ones. The other mothers were helping with each others children and they all knew what was going on and what was next. I have never felt comfortable in these situations but I do what I do best...fake it! After story time was gym play time. I thought perfect...they will have a little PE class with toddlers and parents. This is my area of experience so I was excited till I got to the gym with my little monster full of energy and there were

God is good, through this crazy month (November) he both took life and created life. How awesome is that. Bobby and I are amazed at God's plan for our family. Let the crazie-ness begin with one toddler and one in the oven!

I think she was perfect. And I am not sure I am wrong. Her name was Dennie Louise Ingram, then she married my papa at 16 (he was 21) and became a Chadwell. They had 3 girls, my mom was their oldest. I called her Granny Chadwell, or more specifically... Granny. She had skin of silk and complection any woman would desire. Her lips were lipstick lips and done in a perfect shade of red. She was tall and skinny and wore brown curly purmed hair. Her hands looked like my mothers but with longer fingers. She turned her cheek to kiss you, always funny as a child. She loved my Papa. Their love was one for the story books; full of mystery, romance, family and endurance. I asked her recently why Papa fell in love with her. Her answer was quick. She had a little rebel and a lot of hard worker in her. She loved yard work. It kept her busy and healthy. She had a big yard and even more determination to have no sticks left on the ground. Brown gloves is her trademark. Brown work gloves, foun