happy day

So many wonderful happenings here in Oklahoma:

  • A new year of Sunday School is about to get underway. My class roster is a who’s who of the most precious 3-year-olds walking the planet today.
  • I…am…going to take a deep breath…and teach 3-year-olds at our church’s Mothers-day-out twice a week. This is an actual job which ups the anxiety factor quite a bit for me, but a few encouraging words from Cheyenne calm me and motivate me: “How many times do we volunteer to do this for absolutely no pay? And why? Because we love it. So I’m assuming that with Caleb at work and the kids at school that you sit around alone in a big empty house with a baby in a box doing nothing else with your life (an assumption, tell me if I’m wrong but I suspect I’m not), so why shouldn’t you? You and Arbor both get to get out of the house and prevent from becoming crazy hermits and see other humans, you get to teach and play with little kids which you love to do cuz it’s always fun, and plus you get a little something besides. The money is not making bank but that’s a cherry coke a day, my friend. Or maybe, dare I say it, a trip to the movies or eating out. Or more realistically, the occasional duck or clothes for your stretchy growing children. Now I personally cannot vouch for the state of your mental health, but if you really claim you’re not hearing voices, then I say go for it.”
  • A cherry coke a day, I’m dying. Because she’s so right, and I can’t think of anyone who knows me better than this girl.
  • I am loving my art studio, and I’m slowly but surely getting it organized and ready for lessons galore. Also: I get to paint all over the walls whenever I feel like it.  
  • Caleb got me a lawn mower, a full-on man-powered push mower. Because although the jump rope was, in theory, a super fun idea, (*not super fun at all*) my idea of exercising involves not standing in one spot jumping up and down hardcore giving myself a headache. So for an hour or more every other day, I have gladly taken my personal mower over the grass in areas of our five-acre yard and trust me when I say I could do this for five hours everyday and never be able to keep the grass short. Push mowing is hard freaking work and I’m feeling it in my arms, back, and legs. I sweat gallons. And there is something so satisfying about cutting grass. And there is something so lame about me having so much fun doing it.  
  • School is starting soon. Mia turns 11 in less than a week. Arbor turns 1 in less than a month. Merrick got glasses.
  • And Smokey is still alive and kicking. We were ready to take him in and have him put to sleep, so much weight had he lost and so often was he barfing–and all the sudden, he stopped. Well, tapered off anyway. Still a little vomit-y, still can count his poor old-dog ribs, probably still has a tumor–but he’s eating, walking, and breathing without appearing to be in pain, so we’re just going to love on him for a while longer. And he gets extra treats.  
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About Toni

Mom. Wife. Artist. I take care of the kids and pretend to clean sometimes. I can cook spagetti and I have never been arrested. View all posts by Toni

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