Hanging Out A Shingle

My husband is pretty amazing. He’s probably the handiest guy I know. Seriously. He has replaced the brakes on our cars, refinished our hardwood floors, installed crown moulding, repaired antique furniture, resurfaced kitchen countertops, and completely rebuilt the back room of our house from the ground (literally) up.

But his talent goes beyond physical labor.

One of the first things he gave me when we were dating was a painting of his. I honestly didn’t believe he’d painted it. (I can’t draw a stick figure so I’m always a little skeptical and in awe of people who can!) But he had. And he continues to cover our walls with his art.

After years of just “playing around” and “it’s not that big of a deal” he’s moving forward with his very natural and obvious talent.

Here are a few of his recent works:

If you might be interested in commissioning a painting for your own home or as a gift for someone else, send me an email or leave a comment and I’ll get you more information. Styles, colors and canvas sizes are all customizable. Shipping to anywhere in the U.S. is available.

Speechless. Almost.

There are no words for what it’s like to come home to a husband sans shirt sleeves and a daughter acting like Dumb Donald:

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But there are plenty of words that almost do it justice:

love. joy. amusement. charm. bliss. affection. devotion. humor. comfort. delight. wonder. life.

You Can Take The Girl Out of The Country…

I may not have married a farm boy, but he’s pretty good at faking it.

Very Footloose, Let’s Hear It For The Boy, don’t you think?

Ten years after we met and he still makes my heart flutter.

Record Breaking Fun

With a record breaking twelve inches of snow, we’ve filled our time by making thumbprint Valentine’s Day cards, cooking homemade Zuppa Toscana soup and banana walnut bread, building snowmen and igloos, snowboarding, and drinking hot chocolate.

I can’t imagine having this type of weather for weeks on end, but the past 48 hours have been pretty wonderful.

(You should be able to click on the photos if you want to enlarge them.)

Lucky Number Seven

Seven years ago I married the man of my dreams. As we begin our eighth August together, I have a confession to make.

I have been impatient. I have been mean. I have been envious, I have boasted, and I have been prideful. Rude? Oh yes. And self-seeking too. I have been angry without reason and I have kept a scorecard of rights and wrongs. I have delighted in the wrong things and haven’t rejoiced as often as I should have. I have failed to always protect, to always trust, to always hope, to always persevere.

And yet…

Love still has not failed.

Amazing.

I am blessed beyond reason, beyond understanding, beyond what I deserve.

My baby. Talking about our baby.

As Matt put Abby to bed last night (an event in itself), he had an interesting interaction with her. The encounter was so unbelievably Abby that Matt decided to write out the story for me to put on the blog.

Now yes, Matt did actually write with pen and paper, but his intention was for it to be seen here. That’s like mental blogging!

Here’s what happened, in Matt’s words:

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I told Abby she could only come out of her room if she needed to go potty. She said, “Okay Daddy.”

Two minutes later, her door opens and she comes walking into the bathroom.

Abby sat on the potty while I told her that if she didn’t really need to go, she was going to be in trouble for getting out of bed.

She looked up, higher than my head, and said, “I need more tinkle. Much more.”

I questioned her, “What?”

And she said, “No, not you. Lord. I’m talking to the Lord.”

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So there you have it.

Matt’s contribution to the blogosphere.

And more proof that our kid is crazy.

And I wouldn’t trade either of them for the world.

Emphasis

A recent conversation with Abby:

A: (out of nowhere) “I’m a princess!”

Me: (mentally blaming her grandparents) “Oh yeah, who told you that?”

A: “Daddy said, ‘Daddy’s the king, Mommy’s the queen, and Abby is the princess.’”

Me: (mentally apologizing to the grandparents) “Ahh. Yep, Daddy was right.”

I’m pretty sure my husband did not intend for Abby to leave that conversation feeling entitled. Probably he was hoping for the exact opposite reaction.

I’ve left quite a few talks lately having heard just what I wanted and not what was actually being said. Like mother, like daughter.

I’m What?!

In my experience there’s usually at least one younger teacher at high schools, and at least one student has a crush on them… and there’s always that friend who says, “Ewww. He’s old. Like at least 30!” Well when I dropped some stuff at Matt’s school the other day, and a high school boy addressed me as Mrs. Naylor, it hit me that I’m no longer either of those kids… I’m the wife of the teacher! I frequently tell people that Matt is the best dressed male teacher at Denton High School… and I tease Matt about the high school girls having a crush on him. But for some reason I just now realized that I’m the teacher’s wife. And it makes me feel a little proud and a little curious as to where the last 15 years went.

Christmas Idea #3

Gift Idea #3

For Matt- anything that comes with a remote control.

I may not have married a man who watches sports central 24/7 (and for that I am forever grateful) but I did apparently commit my life to a man who isn’t becoming more mature in his toy preferences.

Cars, helicopters, airplanes… any item that can be controlled by remote and used to torment both our cat and our child is the perfect present for Matt.

Two Seasons In One

This morning it was autumn, so our little family headed to the Flower Mound pumpkin patch. It was a busy morning and Abby split her time between running through the pumpkins, jumping in a bounce house, going on a hay ride, and meeting all her favorite animated friends in the form of cutout shapes!

But this afternoon, it felt more like spring. So Abby, baby Triceratops (the favorite toy of the week), and I spent some time playing outside.