"Are You A Princess?" I said

"Are you a Princess? I said and she said I'm much more than a princess, but you don't have a name for it yet here on earth."

Congratulations...

As most of you know, a member of our family recently reached a milestone in life.  

After years and years of hard work, 

countless sleepless nights, 

unbelievable dedication to studying and homework,

large amounts of blood, sweat, and tears, 

they somehow overcame unbelievable odds to finally reach the end.  

So without further ado,

let me introduce to you our newest Graduate... 

Brooklyn Nicole Webb!!

Oh, and Luke did a little bit of hard work too.  :)

Both of them recently graduated.  One from Preschool.  One from Medical School.  

Both of them had their names announced and walked proudly across the stage.  One wants to be an Anesthesiologist.  One is an Anesthesiologist.   

One looked adorable in their cap and gown.  And so did the other one.

 

Both of them had the best time in school and met so many wonderful friends in the process.

 

And both of them have made me prouder than I ever thought it possible to be.  

 

Congrats to Both of My Amazing Graduates!

BFF's Forever (and Ever)

Before I begin this post (that I've now rewritten 4 times), I just have to say that it is going to be inadequate. 

 It's not even going to come close to being able to list the fun times we've had together and the memories we've made.  

It's not going to do a sufficient job of describing the way these girls were perfect.  

Individually and collectively.  

It's not going to explain adequately how they have grown, learned, played, cried, matured, and laughed together.

It's not going to even remotely convey the love that these girls have for each other.  

 It's weird.  None of us can remember when we actually met.  It's like one of those dreams that just kind of starts in the middle of the story.  And in this dream, the beginning really wasn't that important anyway.

It started with 4 girls.  Sometime.  Somewhere.  

 The girls share a love dinosaurs.  They have been known to carry on dramatic debates about which carnivorous dinosaur was the most ferocious (it's the Spinosaurus, in case you're wondering), and which dinosaur could run faster than a cheetah (that would be the Velociraptor), and whether or not the Tyrannosaurus Rex was a predator or scavenger (I'd love to tell you the answer, but this particular conversation was way over my head).

 
The girls also share a love of swimming.  And painting.  And movies about dogs.  And catching frogs.  And documentaries about sharks.  And spiders.  And frosting cookies.  And horses.  And slides.  And eating popsicles.  And getting dirty. 

We've had the best of times with these girls.  We've had playdates that probably number in the thousands (seriously).  There is not a park, a restaurant, an inflatable bouncy place, a mall, a movie theater, a pumpkin patch, a parade, a library, or a pool that we have not been to together.
And there is not a single memory that is not a happy one.

 

 

 Yesterday they loaded up their moving van, cleaned out their house, hugged us goodbye, crawled into their car and drove away.  

And about 3 minutes after they left, the girls were begging to play with them.

And it broke my heart.
They have become like sisters, and I honestly love these children like they are my own.
We are going to miss them like crazy.

  If we weren't leaving in 7 days, we could not physically stand it.

Over the past few years, these girls became more than just friends.  

They became BFF's.

Forever.

 

And EVER.

...And He's Mobile

He's crawling.  

It happened about 3 weeks ago... 

...which is approximately the same time that I stopped getting anything done.

Happiness Tugs at My Skirt

I remember as a child I constantly wondered to myself why there was a Father's Day, and a Mother's Day, but no Kid's Day.  

Then I became a Mother.  And now I know. 

It's because every day is Kid's Day.

But on this one day out of the year when it actually is all about me, I find it really kind of difficult to celebrate.  

I love celebrating my mom, and mother-in-law, and grandmothers, and other significant women in my life, but when it comes to celebrating myself as a mother, I don't know.  

It feels....weird.  

I love being a mom.  I love being a mom more than I love breathing.  But as much as I love it (and I think we've established that I do love it), I still struggle with it constantly.  I make so many mistakes it's embarrassing.  I have to forgive myself over and over again for doing every thing wrong.  I go to bed at night praying that the next day I will do better.  And at the end of the day, I have to convince myself that I have not failed them in every way possible, and I will just have to try again the next day.    

And while I am not a perfect parent (and maybe not even a decent one), I still, undeniably love it.

For example: this week I took the kids to the beach and Cameron ate several handfuls (literally) of sand.  (Side note: He won't eat applesauce, but sand he gobbled like crazy.  Sure.)

(Today Aubrey picked him up and said, "Wooo, Cameron.  I think all that sand you ate made you get fatter.")

And yet, I still love being a mom.

For further example: While driving home from preschool, we spotted a little duck family floating along in a pond near our home.  We strolled over to the ducks and tried to feed the babies some stale bread.  The daddy duck didn't like this.  He hissed at us and even did a little mini-charge at Aubrey.  Our duck feeding adventure ended with us sprinting up a hill, Aubrey chucking the bread at the duck's heads, and me screaming obscenities while abandoning my helpless child to the mercy of the feathered beasts. 

(I'll be writing a parenting book later this year.  So stay tuned for that.)    

 And yet, I still love being a mom. 

In case you need yet another example: Aubrey spent a whole day outside catching butterflies.  She had approximately 15 of them in a little glass jar, which she excitedly brought inside to show me.  While showing me, she lifted the paper off the lid of the jar and - surprise!- 15 frantic butterflies escaped to the pleasure of roaming freely around my house. 

Have I mentioned how I don't do bugs?

(No picture of this - too busy hiding under the girls bunk beds while attempting to go to my own private happy place - but here's a lovely little picture of the nest outside my bedroom window.  Charming, huh?)

 And yet, I still love being a mom.

Further proof: Aubrey wore this outfit.  To preschool.  To the grocery store.  To the library.  To a picnic with friends. 

 And yet, I still love being a mom.

Even more proof: We had a picnic with our good friends at a beautiful new park.  There's a fountain at this park which we lectured the girls repeatedly would not be entered at any time, under any circumstances.  Naturally, within 10 minutes, Brooklyn was drenched head-to-toe.  

And like the loving mother that I am, I gave her the shirt off my back instead of letting her freeze like she rightfully deserved. 

(See the shirt?  Above: on me.  Below: not on me.)  

 And while I froze in my too-tight-and-not-at-all-flattering undershirt, I did get to enjoy this view from behind:

 This night, I really, really loved being a mom.

 One more final example: Since the public pools aren't open quite yet, I took it upon myself to create our own little pool.  I pumped it up, I carried about 26 buckets of water from our kitchen into our backyard to fill it up, I got our beach towels out, got the kids in their swimsuits, lathered them each in sunscreen, made lemon aid, found the lost pair of sunglasses, dug my reclining lounge chair out of the garage, gathered all our best pool toys, blew up a beach ball, and told the kids they could finally get in the pool.  

They did.  

And then millions of microscopic red biting bugs attacked us and 20 seconds later we were all inside.

And yet, I still love being a mom.

I came across this quote today, and I think it is so perfectly put. 

"I have no need for children

for it is happiness I am in search 

and all the while she spoke I smiled 

while happiness tugged at my skirt."

-Author Unknown

I think the moral of this story is that I love being a mom.  

And while other people may be out in their full-blown search for happiness, I smile.  

Because happiness really does tug at my skirt.

I love being a mom.

We Bought A Zoo!

Well, actually, no.  

We didn't buy a zoo. 

But we did buy a house!!!

After weeks of backs and forths, and ups and downs, and nos and more nos and me seriously contemplating flying to California just to punch some people in the face, we did it.  

And we love it.  

At least, we think we love it.  

'Cause, you see...  well, we just bought a house that we've never seen.  

(And I thought it was bad when we bought our car on eBay...)

It is a 4 bedroom, 3 bath, boxy 2 story house with a yard, swingset, HOA pools and hot tubs, tennis courts, stocked fishing pond, hiking trails, (and the girls favorite part...) a cactus in the backyard.  (Why?)

It's basically our own private Disneyland.

 We are quite thrilled.  

Now come visit us!

The Birds and the Bees

It is spring.  And we are soaking it in like little sponges. 

My front bush is purple and beautiful and it smells delightful.  

I want to dig it up and pack it in a box and move it with us to California.  

(I'm experiencing an acute case of moving jitters and separation anxiety.  In case that wasn't clear.)

 We have a nest above our front door.  The mommy bird that lives in this nest is an opera singer and she's not shy.  The girls named her (on their own), Looka Nesta Webb.  Because she "look-a's for worms" and she lives in a "nest-a".  

Naturally.

 Grandma Campbell sent the girls some butterfly nets (she knows them well...), and they have been put to good use.  

We were informed that a tree across the street from us was swarming with butterflies.  

It took us about 2.8 seconds  to be out the door.

Of course, we had to get our best outfits on to go butterfly catching...

...and boy were we glad we did.

You can't tell, but "swarming" doesn't even begin to describe it.  The butterflies were attacking this tree by the hundreds. 

It made for some pretty good times and some pretty thrilled little girls.

(And some pretty dead butterflies.)

In other news, the chicks are gone.  

Tragic.

Except not.  

 They were sweet when they weren't pooping on us.  

Unfortunately, that was about 2% of the time.

 Plus, they stunk and they made my house smell like a farm.  

Which is not OK.

 So, we loaded them up in a cardboard box, drove them Winterset and dropped them off on someone's doorstep.  

(We knew them, and they wanted them.  I didn't just drop them off on a random doorstep.  Although that would have been way more fun.)

Aubrey kissed them each tenderly on the head (barf), thanked them for all the good times, picked some grass for them to play with, told them that they would enjoy their time on the farm, and promised to never forget them.

Brooklyn yelled, "See ya, chicks" from the car.  

And away we drove.

And since we're on the topic of the "birds and the bees," I have one more story to share.

Aubrey is engaged.  

She informed me a few weeks ago that she is going to marry Zachary from preschool.  

She also revealed that her preschool teachers told her and Zachary that they cannot kiss at school anymore.

And that is the truth.