Redneck practices, old age, road kill supper, and one stupid move.

Low point of yesterday: preheating my flat iron for 9 1/2 hours, then laying my brand new glasses on them when I went to bed. The smell of burning plastic several minutes later jogged my memory. Ugh, stupidity.

Tomorrow, I turn 30. I face the number with mixed feelings. I’ve always been one of the young moms. I always wanted to have my children when I was young, but getting older never really crossed my mind. Suddenly, I’m hitting thirty and am not quite sure what to think about it. My kids keep telling me they don’t want me to turn 30 because then I’ll be old. Sterling is all but mourning my death already. I remember as a kid thinking 30 sounded old. It kind of still does – but here I am. Strange.

We were given a deer to eat. Early one morning, one of Blaine’s co-workers calls and asked if we’d eat it if he brought it over. Thinking of deer meat and the creativity required to make wild game edible and the rising grocery prices I’ve been seeing, I said I was up for the challenge.

It was a road kill deer.

Turns out, Missouri has a whole program/list of people who are waiting for freshly pulverized bounty, and we can put our name on such a list to receive notifications of such events.

Tell me I’m not the only one who has never heard of or considered indulging in something hit by a car at a high speed? And yet. Freshly dead, this buck weighed somewhere in the vicinity of 200 lbs. A little while later, Blaine’s coworkers were hanging the animal in the shed to gut it… but the shed rafters protested, and the meat ended up straight in my house, no hanging necessary. I washed and trimmed and froze the meat, and we’ve had two lovely meals of Ree Drummond’s Beer and Paprika Beef Stew, venison style since, with many more meals’ worth left. Entirely edible, free, and it’s filling my freezer at the moment. Everyone liked the stew, and free meat made it the ultimate in cheap. The same week we got the deer, we got a receipt in the mail saying they knew and approved of our consuming one dead road kill deer.

I just can’t think about the road kill part. It’s just a tad redneck. Wow. I have yet to put my name on that list. It’s like I’m embracing the weirder practices of this strange state we now call home. It’s just… wow.

Charlotte Serenity

Charlotte Serenity turned three years old today. A new pair of slipper boots from Grandpa and Grandma (because soft fuzzy things are her favorite – proven when she wore them to bed tonight) and a new dress because Momma can’t seem to let a girl birthday go by without a sewing project were a few of her favorite things.

A new doll that looks remarkably like Charlie herself – who also got a new dress to mark the occasion,

and three candles in a German Chocolate cupcake marked the grander celebrations of the day. She had a fabulous day, and was more excited about the fact that she was three than the cupcakes or the gifts. Being three, she tells me, is a really big deal. She wanted to know if she’d still spill and need a bib when she’s three. With her… the answer is yes. Spills are still gonna happen. Sorry.

Happy birthday, Baby Big Girl.

Sterling’s 6th Birthday

Sterling turned six on Saturday. To start off the day, he requested homemade doughnuts for breakfast – complete with Christmas colored sprinkles. He didn’t mind.

I think they were good.

 

I had this great idea for his gifts. He got four – usually I have several small things for them, but Sterling’s gifts were more expensive and fewer. Instead of opening them and being done, I made a scavenger hunt. He had to read the clues, figure out where his gifts were hidden, and run to find his gift. The clue was on the next gift. It was so much fun. Definitely the way to go, if your birthday child can read and you have the time to do it. The kids are all asking for a hunt on their birthdays.

Ugh, way to set the bar high.

The excitement was contagious.

I’m not sure which is funnier – Sterling’s face as he shot his new slingshot or Pierce trying to get up on the trampoline in the background or Ruby looking the wrong direction like Sterling shot backward.

Blaine was solely responsible for the purchase of the fishing pole and wrapping it. The reel was in an oil filter box and the pole in a piece of PVC. Clever, my love.

I was super excited about the Razor scooter. Liberty and Eden got some at a rummage sale a few weeks ago and Sterling’s been wishing for one ever since.

And, the cake. Liberty made it. I think we have a first, folks. In all my years of motherhood, I’ve made the cake. 29 of them so far. This one, I didn’t make. (Catch Ruby’s cheating cheeks? I have evidence.)

Sterling Blaine

This freckle faced boy of mine turns six today.

Sterling…

just finished Kindergarten

learned how to read this year

excels in math

loves all things practical

loves to build and fix things

wants to be an Architectural Engineer

loves hugs

hates haircuts

loves Jesus

almost always has his shirt tucked in

has grown up so much this year

has a family that loves him dearly.

Happy birthday, little man.

Math brain.

Amount of time it takes for Pierce to shatter the glass plate at the restaurant on the floor after the waiter, who most obviously does not have a one year old, places it in front of him: 1.3 seconds.

Best part about going out to eat on your birthday: not having to clean up the floor under the table.

Number of heads of hair trims I gave on this Sunday morning: 3.

Number of hair ponies and bobby pins used for hair does this morning: 14.

Number of minutes Pierce lasted this morning before going back to bed after staying up later than he should have last night: 38.

Times I’ve had to wash sheets for wet sleepers this week: 1. Progress!

Times I’ve had to scold for mud all over the bathroom: 4. Some dear child is digging a tunnel in the garden. The same dear child can sit in it and disappear up to said child’s chin. Impressive. Dirty, but impressive.

Number of buckling and unbuckling seat belts during out two hour shopping trip on
Monday: 63.

Yesterday I hit my tipping point. The collective number of years I’ve mothered have officially reached the same number of years I’ve been alive. It only goes up exponentially from here.

Happy birthday to me.

Today is my 29th birthday. It’s a weird age. I feel like I have one more year to cling to my twenties.

Ruby made it all better, though. She informed me I was almost thirty, and then turned to Sterling and asked him what comes after 30. When he told her 31 comes next, she gasped, spun around in genuine concern, and exclaimed, “Oh no! You’re almost dead!”

Sterling gave me jewelry. I’m now sporting a matching ring and bracelet set. He made them out of twist ties from the bread bags. The ring… let me just warn you the folly of wearing such a beautiful ring during a certain personal hygiene moment after using certain facilities. It’s a little… scratchy.