because happiness is something you have to hold on to and never let go

This blog is supposed to as much about my joy of motherhood as it is about me as a woman, and a daughter and a wife ect. And I’ve spent a lot of time whining about things I really have no cause to whine about. Honestly, I am too, too blessed. My husband and I have more going for us than many young people our age, God continues to take care of us and shows me so many way all the things that I have to be greatful for.

So I would like to start this post with a subtitle
My Favorite Cammy moment:
Cammy in all her language development is learning tons and tons of words. I hinder that development daily, I’m sure my mother will have comment to post on my ability to destroy my child with a single plastic pacifier. (I’ll have to update you all on the Binky Wars on a later date, I’m trying to be in a good mood here) but she has moments of pure toddler comic genius, alas one day a few weeks ago she was looking for some candy and we told her simply, it was too early for candy, she would have to wait until after lunch. We were greeted with a hearty, “Aww MANN!!!!” before she turn and walked pouting to pick a DVD for viewing. She scrunches up her forehead and kicks that bottom lip out and lets that bad boy rip when ever she doesn’t get her way, and its is totally HIL-arious. Do you know how hard it is not to crack up laughing while you are trying to be stern with a two year old cute enough to actually be on TV?
I’m also really, really fond of Cammy’s happy dance. We purchased her a actual Bomb Pop! from the Bomb Pop! man. Who knew you actually write Bomb Pop! with the exclamation point and every thing. The things you figure out while sitting in front of your powerless house reading what ever you got, including the popsicle wrapper. Any who. Here I was thinking that the Bomb Pops! you actually buy in the store are a fair assessment of the popsicles you will get from you neighbor hood rainbow colored van, and I was of the mind set that barring our placement in the sixth level of hell I wouldn’t be buying a over priced puny Bomb Pop! for my kid. My child hood memories are filled with popsicles as long as my head and left my entire fore arm drenched in flavored syrup cause you can NEVER eat a Bomb Pop! fast enough to not drip especially if you don’t use the wrapper. But as any local will tell you – St. Louis in the summer with out A/C is the sixth level of hell and on Saturday Jerry and I spent the afternoon trying to get out house together with out power and with all of our Bomp Pop! stash melted during our four days of powerlessness, that puny popsicle looked mighty good to me. So I upped  the $1.25 per, lamenting like all parents do – when I was your age a popsicle was a quarter… but was pleasantly surprised when he reached in his cooler to hand me these GIANT popsicles. It was easily as long as my forearm and Cammy couldn’t even hold the thing by its stick and eat it – it was too long for her arms, which lead to her pretty white dress, turning all manner of tie dye looking redness (and why is it no matter how many colors a popsicle has the juice is always all red when it gets on you?) but none of this could dull her happiness. Yes it was past nap time, yes she had been tortured with TWO hours of hair braiding (pictures coming), yes Nemo was dead as there was no DVD player we colud use to pacify her with and she was not buying the whole TV is broken thing,  but being barefoot in the summer sun with a popsicle was just what my baby girl needed, she danced up and down the street with me shaking her little groove thang and singing a little ditty she came up with dripping popsicle juice everywhere.

Gotta love the summer.