Look Up First

I have four grandchildren, with a fifth on the way. Lucky me, right? I know. Super blessed.

Hunter is my oldest daughter’s second boy. He is rounding the bend towards 2 years old. He is goofy, dirty, and messy. We call him “Pig Pen” jokingly. (Well, sort of jokingly.) Dirt finds him in a big way. I know you may have had one like that, or know one. Hunter is one.

He is as cute as they come and stinkin’ funny.

One thing he does that is different from almost every kid I’ve ever known is: When he goes outside, he looks up first. It is pretty strange. He’s past the stage where you are afraid of him toppling over, but when that head flies up, it seems uncertain.

 

He looks up because he likes birds.

And butterflies.

And planes and helicopters.

And anything else the sky might hold.

 

Most kids start running when their feet hit the pavement or grass. Not him. His head goes up before anything else.

We went for a walk the other day: me, Hunter (21 months) and Xander (3 years old).  I was holding securely to Hunter’s chubby little hand. We walked along okay for a while, but then his head tilted back and he stopped dead in his tracks and the adult absolutely must pay attention.

Birthdays are great!

 

The number of years someone has been on this planet is a great thing to celebrate. I’m all for it!

Today is my birthday! Happy Birthday to me! Silly to say? Who cares?

I’ve been through an illness severe enough that my next birthday was extremely uncertain – two years in a row.

Now, it’s my birthday. I am healthy. Let’s celebrate!

And so should you. Every single birthday. (Well, every day really; but that’s not what this post is about.)

The Morning Calls – It’s a New Day

I am an early bird. Always have been. Ask my mother. My husband had a rude awakening when we met. He didn’t know about sunrises. But I am happy to report that he loves them now, and has for a few decades.

My friends laugh at me because I get more done before 8:00 a.m. than most people. Of course after 9:00 p.m. I am worthless. It’s a trade off. And it’s one I can’t help making. Even if I want to, I can’t.

My body wakes up with the chickens. Sometimes before the chickens. I’m the one that reminds the rooster to crow.

And, because I get up so stinkin early; I know things some people don’t know.

The stars at 4:00 am are at their loveliest.