Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Child of God

My sweet baby boy was baptized not too long ago.

We were waiting until a time when both sides of our families could be in town for it.

Which didn't happen until August was seven months old.

Needless to say, my super-sized little boy had long outgrown our family baptismal gown at that point. And my great ambitions of making one out of my wedding dress never came to fruition.

So I cut up a brand new, perfectly good toddler suit and reconfigured it into my own little Dapper Dan creation. 

I was thrilled when our pastor not only allowed, but encouraged us to photograph the baptism.

She says it's a day that should be documented and remembered.

And I couldn't agree more.

We asked J's cousin Eddie to be August's godfather / baptismal sponsor.

He holds the same values, ideals and beliefs as we do, and will be an excellent example and spiritual guide for August as he grows up.

They are good buddies already.

We had a brief reception at church following the baptism and then a family dinner at my in-law's.

August wasn't really into all the formalities though, he was more interested in his jumper seat at his grandparents' house.

And his rocking horse.

It's no joke that first grandchildren lack for nothing.

Enjoy it now, buddy.

One of these days a cousin or sibling will come along and steal your spotlight.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014


I got ahead of myself. 

I completely overlooked my folder of January pictures. 

I can't forget to document this face at 5 months old...

And I can't forget to document that this was a thing for a while...

Every diaper change was all about doing toe-touches and showing off the legs rolls.

Catch Up

Alright, I've got some catching up to do.

This blog is officially transitioning from Diaries of a Farm Wife to Farm Mom.

And that's how it happens.

That's how you become a mommy blogger without even meaning to.

Here is a quick recap of August's spring.

This is his farm baby look...

His check out my sweet chevron diaper look...

Frat boy look...

His brief attempt at modeling...

And here is how we know he takes after mommy.

Shovel. That. Food. In.

This is his grocery store gangsta lean.

He's a pretty cool dude.

Here's his lady get that camera out of my face I'm done with your stupid selfies look...

And again...

But this time at the post office...

Chillin in the field...

Sleeping in the field...

Gratuitous sleeping baby picture...

Dino baby...

Who gets himself in predicaments...

Like every 30 seconds...

So there you have it. That was February and March in a nutshell.


One more thing.

I'm pretty sure I told my husband I wouldn't post this because I'm embarrassed for him.

But I'm doing it anyway as a public service announcement on how creepy fu manchus can make some people look.

He went several days without shaving one week and then thought it would be funny one morning to come downstairs looking like this.

With a long john shirt on for an added touch.


On the left is a picture of him the day August was born 8 months ago, on the right is his recent fu manchu.

You tell me who looks creepier?

Thankfully it lasted all of 2 minutes.

He just shaved it that way long enough to gross me out.

Because he takes great joy in that type of thing.

Friday, February 7, 2014

Like a Boss

There's a new boss on the farm.

And he means business.

Today was August's first day in his big stroller without the car seat attachment.

So he really thinks he's somebody now.

We headed down to the barn to feed a baby calf who lost his mama.

You can see him in the background. 


Back and forth, back and forth.

He's pretty frisky.

And when they finally caught him out in the pasture after his mama died, he didn't want anything to do with being tied up.

He would rather run around like he's in the rodeo.

So naturally, he's been dubbed Frisky Tie Rodeo.

But as soon as he spots the bottle, he is cool as a cucumber.

And then the audience gathers on the other side of the gate.

Sorry, girls.

These aren't for you.

Our little pint-sized boss just takes it all in.

Admit it....

You know you want to squeeze those cheeks.