Confessions and a Friend Called "Yes".

I am back.  We have had a lot going on and I have so much to catch up on.  We finished up a ton of yard projects, painted some walls, made some artwork for our house, helped Terrell settle in to her new home, started ice skating lessons, took a trip up North, etc.  All of that will have to wait until I can take some pictures to post.

For now, I will start with a confession.  First I will confess for Kendall.  She has learned her first curse word.  She confessed this to me about a month ago.  She learned it from one of the older neighborhood girls (so impressionable).  She knew it was inappropriate because she would not outright say it.  She told me it started with "SH".  A day or so after her confession she asked me what exactly it meant.  I told her it was a naughty word for poop and she should not be saying it.  Apparently she did not listen because last week Grandma Terrell told me that she was picking up Griz and Snoop's poop in the backyard.  Kendall came out and asked her what she was doing.  Terrell said, "I am picking up poop."  Kendall replied "Oh, your picking up Shid."  Just too clarify, I did not misspell the word that is how Kendall thinks it is pronounced. 

My confession is a bit embarrassing, but here goes.  I do not say curse words too much and generally try not to make it a common practice.  That being said there is one curse word that manages to roll right off my tongue with wild abandonment.  It is the mother of all curse words.  I say it repeatedly, loudly and usual when only in the presence of myself.  I am not certain why it feels so refreshing to say.  It is ridiculous really.  I still remember when I was 16 years old and driving home late one night with my mom.  I had fallen asleep in the passenger seat.  A dog ran out in front of the car.  She slammed on the brakes.  In my bewilderment I sat up and shouted "What the F***".  I am not sure who was more shocked me or my mother.  Now that I have children, I have tried to modify this word to a respectable "freaking".  I do not know why I deem that more respectable, because it isn't really.  Last week Sidney was getting a kitchen towel out of the basket and she grabbed a washcloth instead.  She held it up and said "It is so freaking little".  I was astonished.  I asked, "What did you just say?"  She replied, "This towel, it is so freaking little."  Hmmm, I guess I should rethink that one.

Sidney has an imaginary friend.  She has been talking a lot about her new friend.  Her new friend is a boy that goes by the name of "Yes."  She goes to his house, plays tag with him, goes to church and school together.  I am told that "Yes" goes on a lot of trips.  The kicker is that "Yes" has a little sister named "No".  I am not making this up.  Sidney is making this up and it is quite creative I must say.