Confessions

There is not enough time for me to confess everything (and I would not want to). However, I must confess that while I was pregnant I wanted a little boy. (There. I said it. A weight has been lifted.) The thought of having a little boy consumed me. I believe that part of wanting a little boy is a woman feels slightly obligated to have a son for her husband. Now Husband was not as dead-set on having a boy as I was, and I now greater understand that God has a plan and a purpose much greater than my own. I adore Little. I adore tea parties, painted toe nails, bows, dresses. I love every single millisecond of it. Besides, a little boy would not think of such a spectacular outfit. . . . .











On to my next confession. The girls of the house are not morning people. Don't look at us. Don't talk to us. In fact, we rather you not even be around. I try to limit my morning conversation to as few words as possible; otherwise, someone may get hurt. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Little Foot wakes up saying no. The conversation is hilarious.

Husband: "Good morning!" (He is such a morning person it makes me nauseated.)

Little: "Ugh-ughhhh."

Husband: "It's time to get up!"

Little: "Noooooo."

The whole time she is flailing around. Refusing to be caught. Eyes never open. So this morning is a little excessive, but I think you can get the point.






Take in a deep breath......


















Hope your morning was better than hers!