Morganisms

Graysen repeatedly calls her daddy, Brandon, a bad girl.

Noah is an unapologetic trash-diver.

Donuts are dimp-dumps.

Hum-on, Daddy translates into follow me daddy.

Snuggles are the things ya get when you've been reprimanded or injured.

Missing somes: Anything, at all, that is not complete.

We lost it: to be used on occasion, interchangeably with "missing somes". On all other occasions it means, in fact, that something that should be here...is not...such as daddy, or mommy.

Noah has started shaking his head at me, smiling and yelling uh, uh, uh...which in "mommy" means no.

Lately, Brandon has been using Graysen as a translator. She apparently has picked up on some of the messages and has been ordering me to "summit" a.k.a. "submit"

Graysen calls Noah(and always has) Wuh-wuh...She used to call herself Ascents.

That's all I've got at the moment. My brain stopped working. I'll be writing more as I think of them.






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Good Morning, Graysen.

So for the past four days, three out of four of the members of our family have been sick.

Our house is covered with crinkled up tissues, and clothes, and blankets, and other sick-people things.

This morning, Graysen, the only Morgan that isn't sick, came into our room and climbed into bed with us.

I rolled over, unwilling to relinquish ten more possible minutes of sleep.

She curled up beside me, tossing and turning and chattering to herself, while I fell back into a light sleep.

After a while I felt her glide off the bed.

Usually when she gets disinterested in my bed, I give up and follow her, but this morning I decided to stay put a few more minutes since the temperature of my house was around ten below-freezing ( thanks Brandon).

So as I'm lying snuggled under the covers, I feel an awkward twenty-five pounds jump back on the bed, crawl across me, and fidget around in the covers.

This stirs my curiosity.

Fidgeting usually means trouble.

So I rolled over and peeked my head out of the covers to find a bug-eyed three year old staring back at me, covered in tissues.

She looks at me seriously and whispers, "Mommy...I got issues."

Yes, you do.

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Meet Me

As a new blogger, let me begin by issuing an apology for the erratic nature of my thoughts and the mode by which I will be expressing them.

This is my first attempt to tame my thoughts, so don't be too harsh with me.

Let me give you the introduction:

Once upon a time there was this boy--a hobbit of a boy, who met this girl--who was a beauty to say the least, and they fell irrevocably in love.

So then, from this boy and girl came another boy and girl...who were loved dearly by all those around them.

And they live happily at the present in their little shire of a town called Bowling Green.

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