I did not utter the words "If you go check on Marie you can have the last Oreo" in the last week. And I would never have said it more than once.
I would never admit to the fact that we are still doing ponytails, calling the messy kind a hair style, just to cover up the fact that Josie and I have not brushed our hair yet.
I'm not crazy excited that I get a pedicure this week (mostly because I know Annie will rub lotion on my calves), or that my one in a million babysitter got time off of coop at the beginning of wheat harvest to watch the girls for me. Did I mention that girl is one in a million and I love her like a pregnant woman loves cake?
I'm not excited for harvest. I am not a typical farmers wife and am certainly not adopting that "let's get it done before it's hailed out" attitude. I am a positive thinker, I never get stressed, I'm not sick of waiting on the wheat at all. I love wheat, go buy some. Seriously.
I am not biased and think that my daughters and my god-daughter N (their cousin) might be the cutest things on earth. Spending an awesome weekend with them did not help me decide that.
I'm not considering asking Luke's cousin H to fly up to Wyoming again just so we can stockpile more illegal fireworks to light them off for Marie whenever she likes. Actually, I might be. Marie loves fireworks just that much (and I would really go to that extent just to please my miracle girl).
Finally, I did not sort of wish we had some Easter candy left because something marshmallow covered in a little something chocolate sounds really good right now....