‘ee ya!

While I was helping the boys get ready for school this morning, Ivy grabbed her own little backpack out of the closet and tried her best to put it on. She cheerfully said, “Bye bye! ‘Ee ya!” (See ya!) and gave us all a kiss. She was very upset with me when I didn’t let her out the door with her big brothers. Very, very upset.


I distracted her by letting her help me make some muffins. She loves turning that mixer on and off. And on and off. And on and off.

And, nothing new, but just wanted to say that my husband is the best. When I got home after a loooong and tiring shift after midnight last night, there were flowers and a sweet note waiting for me, thanking me for working hard to support our family and being an awesome mom. Well that just made my day I gotta say.


If anyone should be thanked, though, it’s Neil. That guy works ten hours a day, every day, and comes home excited to hang out with his family, always. He’s the one that works hard, so that I barely have to go to work at all. He’s present with us at home, loving us fully and enthusiastically. He takes care of four kids without breaking a sweat whenever I go to work, and I’ve never heard him complain about it, ever. I just love him so much.

One thought on “‘ee ya!

  1. Dad says:

    Great story! I have noticed that too about Neil, the fact that he comes exhausted (and probably more so than most guys) and then immediately focuses on his kids. I remember coming home feeling burnt right out and just wanting to hide out. You got a really good man there. I see him doing things that many men take decades to figure out.

I love your comments! Leave one!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s