I’d like to say what a perfect representation of “Us” this picture represents, but it’s much too pretty. We’re a mess. A lovable, funny, loud mess.
This was taken one Sunday right before Church. My husband was singing that day, so my parents were staying with us, and thankfully able to snap a quick picture.
My husband is perfect. No, seriously, perfect. He works hard, plays hard, and loves us. He is involved with the Church and other service organizations. He coaches soccer and baseball. Sometimes he goes to the grocery store when I don’t feel like it. See? Perfect.
My older son is my guts. He looks like me. He acts like me. He makes me feel sorry for what I must have put my poor parents through when I was his age. DRAMA. It should have been his middle name. He is sweet, thoughtful, and holy cow is the kid smart.
The little one is just like his Daddy. You can practically watch him think. He can take anything apart, then put it back together. He hates to wear clothes and loves to snuggle. He’s my baby.
Not pictured- Duke. Our pitbull. My first baby. He loves to run out to the ponds on our Property. He hates the UPS truck, but loves the driver. He will turn his head away from you, then put a paw on the couch… because of course that means you can’t see him creeping up beside you.
We live in the country. We have a blueberry bush, pear tree, fig tree, fresh garlic, rosemary, and a garden next door in my in-law’s yard. My husband deer hunts on our land. I never pictured myself living this lifestyle, but here we are.
And I love it.