When we were in Haslet, Ryan was my resident nudist. Since we've moved, Michael has taken over that illustrious position. Although I did have to go rescue Ryan who was stuck in his shirt this week during nap time, Michael takes every opportunity to get naked. Once he has achieved his freedom from clothing, he runs around announcing his nudity as though it is the greatest thing ever.
As of yet, I have not made it out in the real world to meet people. As I sit at Chic-fil-a and watch the kids, the ladies there with friends chatting it up while their kids play make me a wee bit desperate for a fellow mom to visit with. I am sure that in time, I'll make friends, but my initial shyness and awkwardness left over from a childhood filled with being the last one picked for kickball have kept me somewhat isolated. We are still looking for a church, and I keep thinking that maybe I'll join a mom's club. I'm sure friends are in my future, but in the words of my sweet Dee, I might be in a post-move funk. I need someone to come over to me, say "you've got a big butt like me, wanna go work out" then promptly take ourselves to Souper Salad to fill up on workout energy. Dee, are you sure that you guys don't want to move to Jacksonville? I miss my Texas friends and family. Bob has been talking about watching the Marlin's next year (not loving them like the Rangers, but "paying attention" to them). Just the thought makes me tear up. I might have a Florida driver's license, but my heart is still in Texas. Go Rangers.