Five things...

Five interesting, or not so interesting things about me...

1. I have three kids, two girls. Cakes is six and budge is two. Cakes is the toughest kid I have ever seen. She walked full force into a railing one time and it echoed over the sound of the football game, she rubbed her head and kept walking. When she was little, if she hurt herself, she would reenact the incident like instant replay. Budge is the sweetest thing, but is a little princess, she wants everything her way, and hates the cold, wet and sun. She gets mad if it is her eyes and asks me to turn it off. Ryan is twenty and has a bird tattoo. Every time I see him I want to yell "put a bird on it!".

2. I like to cook, and I like nice tools in the kitchen. Ryan almost died one time because he used a brand spanking new pan to make eggs. He out the pan on high, got it real hot, and threw an egg in. Apparently, nuclear fission occurred, and the egg was permanently welded to the pan. I'm going to give it to him if he ever marries. Maybe I'll turn it into a collage.

3. I have an addiction to Starbucks. I love it, and it loves me back. I can never remember what i order because i just have to show up and the right drink ends up in the cup.I was an original gold card member, when the card was black. My new gold card says member since 2006.

4. I like watching Ice Road Truckers in the summer. It makes me feel less hot when they say it is thirty below. I love the white out conditions. I like the snow, and I like driving. If I ever run away, I won't join the circus, I'll go to Alaska to truck.

5. My husband is amazing. I love him. He is loving, fun and incredibly supportive. He is also older than dirt, short and bald. I remind him of that every day. I think he likes it. He looks like a garden gnome, and refuses to let me dress him as one. He climbed Mt. Rainier, raced cars, raced sailboats, and danced in a follies group that performed at the White House for Reagan (see...OLD). A few of the numbers made him dress like a woman, and one made him a gay pirate. His picture is on the Victorian Country Christmas program. I wouldn't believe half the crap he says he's done, but he has the pictures to prove it. So I love an old, cross dressing, gay pirate, bald garden gnome, and I call him gnomie. I really don't know why he puts up with me, except he can't cook, and he likes our daughter. I am pretty sure he likes me too. Which is pretty awesome, because he's my gnomie.