One for the books....

All right people. It was a white Christmas in Texas. Yup. I just typed that sentence and it's true. Oh- your don't believe me? Ok- fine- here- proof!

That's Gage throwing a snowball at me. Would've been cute had Dad caught this moment with both of us in the act, but he was doing this:

Apparently he's recovering from staying up until 2:30 on Christmas Eve helping Santa create this:

 

That would be our dining room transformed into a preschool room for our sweet little man! :) More pictures and details to come about the creation of this preschool wonderland and the incredible adventures that await us here. (Not to mention a few samples of the artwork that my little van Gogh will soon create at the little white table.....)

This Christmas was one of the best I've had in a very long time!  I saw almost all of my family, got some great smiles and hugs in return for "just what Gage wished for!" and actually got to bake and cook a little! :)

I am beyond thankful for this beautiful blessing called family that God has given to me! 

Even more thankful for the blessing of his Son and the gift of LIFE!

Silly Goose.....????

Ok, why do people say "Silly goose"? It's one of Gage's favorite sayings lately.

"Gage! Time for dinner!"
"Oh, Mama! You silly goose!"  Huh???
"Gage, do you need to go potty?"
"Oh, Mama! You silly goose!"   Ehh???

Now- why?!?! What is silly about a goose?  It's yucky feathers? Funky beak? Beady little eyes? Webbed feet? I'd say "Freaky Goose".  Birds of all kinds creep me out though.  Here's one of the lowest points in my parenting, but it's funny, and I'm fairly certain CPS isnt' reading this.... :)

While visiting my dad and step-mom we stopped by a little creek that runs through town. (Cibolo Creek)  There are tons of turtles, fish, trees, and these giant duck things. (Yes, duck things- they were not the cute little fluffy yellow things I see in my head when I think "duck"). They were GIANT yucky, dirty, loud things.... and they scared me. Gage was about 18 months old or so and we had taken bread to feed the yucky feathered things.  They knew it too.  They'd come running, but stop short. So what do I do? We're walking along the creek and every time we come close to a feathered beast, I take a step further away from it and push Gage a little closer. He was my little human barrier between me and the beasts.  He wasn't scared of them. He loved them. I was doing him a favor. Don't judge.  Had he been afraid of them, we would have just gotten in the car and kept going, but he wasn't- I was. My dad was walking behind us, laughing at me!  Thinking back- it must have looked pretty hilarious. 

My brave boy protected me from the feathered beasts and for that, I'm eternally grateful! :)

Ok- now seriously- why "silly goose"?