I grew up in a small(ish) Kansas town. I was the girl with the big dreams of running off to California and becoming a famous journalist. Instead, life happened. I did become a journalist, just not in California ... and definitely not famous. Although it may seem as if my life is ordinary to passersby on the street (and even some of my oldest and dearest friends), I guess I would just have to say that ordinary is in the eye of the beholder. I am currently embarking on my greatest adventure yet - which is shared in this blog. It all started at 8:42 p.m. December 21, 2005. He was 7 lbs, 3 ozs. and had a head full of strawberry blond hair ...
Little Man-Ary (A dictionary for those without toddlers)
Chock-A-Nila: The song he sings and dances to while Grammy Jo mixes his chocolate milk. Apparently, mommy doesn't do it right, so this phenomenon only occurs at Grammy Jo's house.
Chockey: Chocolate milk
Diggie: Our loveable dog, Casper
Doom: Vacuum
Dozer: Bulldozer
Grammy Jo: Grandma L.
Gwampa: Grandpa K.
Lovey: A security blanket. And we actually have three of them: truck lovey, doggie lovey and big lovey. And yes, he believes ALL are necessary.
Naide: Lemonade
Nana: Quite possibly little man's favorite person. Grandma K.
Papa: The only other person who gives Nana a run for her money as No. 1 favorite person. Grandpa L.
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