My husband, Tom, started calling me breeder cow after our second child, and the name stuck because it made me laugh and my husband has enough charm to make it work. That's my husband, a charmer. Not the kind of charming gentleman that "walks into a party like he was walking onto a yacht," but the rough-around-the-edges type. The type of guy who has worn the same pair of Doc Martins for over 15 years, socks spilling out of the hole in the soles, but he can't throw them away because he's loyal. That kind of stuff just breaks my heart and charms me to death. He is fascinating and simple, the leader of my high energy men. He is my opposite, my compliment, my ground control. He says things like "someday I'm going to invent an acronym and get rich like that LOL guy." He is a dreamer, an unintentional comedian. He answers the phone with a loud "Yello'?" He is a redneck. He is my best friend.
Then there is Ronnie. My high energy man in training. He is a three year old Lightning Mcqueen enthusiast. He was born weighing 9 pounds 9 ounces, practically ran out of my uterus and has not stopped running since. He blows me away with his little wisdom, and his infatuation and curiosity with the world. Ronnie leaves no question unasked. Tom started calling him Bubby when he was around a month old, and since he's always just been our Bub.
Lastly, Thomas. Little man, big energy. Thomas is an emotional 5 month old. He's a chronic eater, a foodie, but still never seems to be full. He is my first attempt at breastfeeding and seems very thankful for my effort because he is completely obsessed with me. I recently broke the news to him that while I was not breaking up with him, I did need some space in our relationship. Specifically at night. He just smiled and woke up at 1 the next morning. Thomas is called Teeber in our house, Teebs for short. The Teebs has taught me patience, perseverance, and how to trust my own instincts.
And that is us.
We aren't perfect. The kind of family where no one is ever smiling or looking at the camera at the same time. We bicker, stumble, fall. We are often late and unorganized.
In fact, as a whole we are a LOT to handle.
But for the most part, we just try really hard. And we are happy. My three high energy men and me.