Driving a truck

   I drive a bus.  Not literally like a cheese that picks a gazillion kids up, but a suburban.  I do pick kids up, but just my own biological kids.  I need a big ride because lets face it, I have three kids, three car seats, and if we go on a trip, I don't pack light.  Well, Tuesday I got in my "bus" to go fetch The Bit from school, and it wouldn't crank.   Some not pleasant words popped in my head.  So I turned the key on, put it in reverse, pushed it out of the garage (yes, I did... it wasn't the first time), the ran after it because I thought it was going to hit the basketball goal.  I called my neighbor and she came and jumped me off for the second time in two weeks.  Not to mention this was the third time all summer.  I then called Trey and said I was driving it off a cliff or it was going to the shop.  So, the bus spent 3 days in the shop, I believe it's fixed, and in the meantime, I drove the Ram (Fancy's truck which is way nicer than my car.  I mean it's not like mine has a heated steering wheel.  Mine is naturally heated from the sun in this 90 degree weather!!!!!!!).

Anna Greer, our babysitter, saw Ford in PE and sent me some pictures.  I sure do miss that little guy while he's gone until 2:45 everyday.

This summer I had two goals with John Brantley.  Goal #1- Practice our ABC flashcards A LOT!  Goal #2- Learn to write his entire name.  He does pretty good.  Looks like he left the "r" off of Brantley.  But hey, his name is way longer than F-o-r-d.

This is a total lie.  Bitty hates bread.  I wonder what possessed him to think he liked it that day???  I wish I didn't like bread.  These hips don't lie though!

This week I will drop another feeding.  Some mornings she takes the bottle of warmed whole milk without any problems, or sometimes, like today, she cried and made bad faces at me.  Baby steps!

Bitty isn't the only one who is obsessed with his new kicks.

I was cooking a country supper the other night: minute steaks, mashed potatoes, and fried okra.  John Brantley loves to cook and loves to help.  He wants to do everything himself.  He was working on the okra and I said, "You sure will help your wife out real good one day by helping her cook supper."  He glared at me and said, "I told you I'm not getting married.  I'm living with you forever."  Ummm ok.  I bet that tune with change.  Until then he can remain 4 and have me and Annie as his two girlfriends.

Nothing like big girls at the pool using Bitty to do stunts.  He didn't mind.

Sometimes you need to watch Paw Patrol and hold your momma's hand.

Fancy has been at the lake all weekend on his brother's bachelor party.  I let the boys sleep with me!

First grade is going so well.  He's excited everyday and made a 100 on his first ever real test.

Ford went to Langston's party on Friday.

Hayes, Ford, Joseph, Jackson, Langston, Houston, and Lucas

Will say "eeeeeese" (cheese) as soon as you point that phone her way.

Meet the Rebels was Saturday.  Since Trey was at the lake I just couldn't mustter the strength, energy, courage, etc. to take the kids by myself.  I knew Annie would be a nightmare, Bitty would get tired and want to leave, and Ford would be great.  So, my dear friend, Jessica, offered to take both boys.  I just sent Ford.

He ran into the cousins.

He thinks he's so cool.

And I was BIG proud of myself because on Friday I found these footballs at Wal-Mart for $4.97.  I bought two.  I figured Ford could take them to Meet the Rebels and get one signed for him and Bitty.  I proudly showed them my findings and both busted my bubble.  They didn't want to get them signed, rather they wanted to play with them.  As if!  They gave 2378482397 other footballs.  Then they argued with me.  I whipped my head around in that Ram truck and told them those were bought by me to get signed and they'd appreciate them one day and they better stop arguing.  Needless to say, I won, they got signed, Ford was thrilled with his, and Bitty was still mad.  GO FIGURE!

Miss Jessica, Taz (her brother), and Ford.  What a great friend to take my kid to all that madness.

Truth.

I don't think mom is an angel in Heaven.  That's not true.  God doesn't appoint new angels.  The Bible doesn't say that.  I don't think mom knows what I'm doing.  I don't think she sees me.  I know she spends her days worshiping Jesus, celebrating a body that's perfect and free from cancer, and probably is in total amazement at the beauty and splendor of Heaven.  That's what I believe.  I think God creates masterpieces, like the one below, to make me stop and look.  Scenes like these make me think of mom, make me miss her, and talk to her.  I know she can't hear me.  But I do it anyway.  It makes me feel better.  I miss her terribly, but I know that I'll see her again when God takes me Home.