Egg Hunt: Part Two

Well, like Grant said, my story didn't go quite as smoothly as his. You see, shortly after Grant finished his hunt they called my age group to our place of hunting. Quickly, we all hurried to the 3-5 year old spot. But as soon as we got there, the kids had already begun hunting. There was no, "on your mark, get set, go," like Grant's. There was no polite waiting for those who had a farther distance to travel. Nope. It was a free for all or survival of the fittest. And, you know me, I may be spry, but let's face it, when it comes to a race for something as coveted as eggs, well, I'm just not going to win. And win I didn't. I spotted one egg left and I was hurrying toward it only to be outwon by a quicker, larger boy. And then I lost it. I turned to look at Mommy and tears plummeted down my eyes. My basket was empty. My heart was broken. My Mommy was furious. But, it gets worse (well, not so much for me but moreso for Mommy). Soon, a glimmer of hope arose. An unexplored egg spot was teeming full of brightly colored plastic eggs. We overheard two ladies ask if it could be hunted by a little girl (we assume one of their daughters) who apparently also missed out on some of the eggs. (but, between you and me...and Mommy, the little girl was a lot larger than 3-5 years old). They were told to go for it. So, what did we do? Mommy quickly grabbed my arm to let me join in the mini egg hunt. I was thrilled...except for the part where the two older (older than Mommy) women grabbed MOST of the eggs in front of me. Yes, their shirts were overflowing with eggs they had stuffed in them. I couldn't keep up with these ravenous women. And Mommy, well she could...so much so that she finally asked them to leave some for me, who had gotten none in the last hunt. Their response, nothing really. They did leave one here and there but continued to stuff their shirts full of eggs along with that strangely large and mature 3-5 year old girl. I think that was the first time I saw the Mama Bear come out of Mommy. I did leave with 5 eggs. Nothing compared to their oh, forty something. But for a three year old, five eggs are amazing. Now the eggs you see in the pictures here...well those are the eggs I proudly collected AFTER kids pulled out their candy and left them on the ground. So, that's my story. We'll just say we're already training for next year's probably not well planned neighborhood egg hunt. And I'm bringing my knee pads.

The Egg Hunt: Part 1

The day had finally arrived. The neighborhood egg hunt. Last year I was too little to participate. Not so this year. It was a rather cool day. Yet coolness didn't deter my enthusiasm. What's a little cold, windy air when you get a free hot dog, Capri Sun, chips, candy, and most importantly an egg hunt, all while listening to loud, funky music? Weather, you can't stop this machine. And for the first part of our egg hunt experience, nothing did. Hannah and Ellie were posing for their many pictures while I, I, was visualizing my game plan to gather the eggs (hence why I'm not in those photo ops). It wasn't long until they called my age group. Mommy and I were ready. My heart was pounding. On the, "ready, set, go," we were off. I was like a gazelle weaving my way through the crowd of unsuspecting egg hunters. I gathered as quickly as I could while Mommy directed me. We made a good team that day. Then, it seemed,within a blink of an eye, the hunt was over. Disappointed? Just a tad...I wanted more time. I needed more time. My nerves didn't get the chance to fully unwind and allow me to perform at my top level. But, as an egg hunt rookie, I gathered 5 eggs, none being the golden egg, but hey, like I said, I was a rookie this year. So, overall, I was pleased with my performance and the experience. But,unfortunately, I can't same the same for Hannah. Here's where our story takes a turn for the worse. And to tell this next part of the story I must pass the baton to none other than my big sis...stay tuned.

The Fearless Hunters

And...in light of the last post...

The Fearless Hunters.

Turkey Season 2010.

The first of many pictures of the dynamic hunting duo.

Deer, beware (and turkeys too for that matter).

And So It Begins...

Mommy, Daddy, and I dedicate this post to Grant. Not only is this his first photo with a turkey but it also is most likely one of many shots with a turkey...or a deer. You see, yesterday Grant got his LIFETIME hunting license in the mail. It was a proud moment for Daddy. Perhaps it will be for Grant one day too. So while Daddy and Grant begin their lifelong hunting relationship, Mommy and I will do what girls do. She says we could go see a play at The Fox. Or maybe go shopping. Or (what I really want), go run in a race together. Yes, I want to run. I even practice running around the cul-de-sac. I wave to Mommy while she says, "Go Hannah Go!" But wait, this post is about Grant. So Grant, buddy, here's to a lifelong love, hunting. You have fun. And we'll just have to wait and see who this new little squirt will join...will it be me and Mommy as we race across the world or will it be Grant and Daddy as they shoot living creatures dead to the ground? We shall see.

These Days

These days we've been spending a lot of time in the cul-de-sac. Me, riding my bike and Grant riding/pushing his truck. And, on some special occasions we have friends to join us. Good thing for Grant that this day was one of those days our friends were here. Ellie was his only support after throwing a major fit in the neighbor's driveway. Mommy isn't too sympathetic when it comes to those meltdowns. And, good for me too that Ellie and Nolan were here because I got to ride Ellie's scooter. I've put that down on my wishlist. And, when we're not riding bikes, scooters, or trucks, we're playing in the dirt (getting ready to feed the chickens) or throwing leaves in the air. While these days are fun and keep us busy and entertained...there is one downside, for Mommy that is, baths every night.

Mommy's Moment: Mommy's Moment

Running. It's been a companion for the past 17 years. Although its purpose, intensity, and location has changed over the past decade and a half, it's been a constant in my life. And I've found as I've grown older I've also grown to love it and appreciate it more. Years ago it served as a social outlet and a competitive drive. Many of my fondest memories from my youth centered around running. And, for a time, I could hold my own on the track. And, for a time, running was my identity. Thankfully, running is not my identity anymore...for...if it were...my identity would be quite insignificant. But running does help remind me of my identity. After a long day of being a mommy to two kids, running allows me to escape and remember me. Paired with music (another of my favorites), running opens a door to worship the Lord and remind me of my true identity in Him. And, on a less spiritual note, it also allows me to unwind and get lost in music that brings back fond memories of the past. It's my 30 minutes to myself. Alone. Without a watch. It's not about how fast I can run anymore. Most of the time it's not about losing weight (though it does help). And, unfortunately (sorry Biggest Loser) it's not about staying in shape (though, of course, it helps). It's about escaping. Having my moment. Working off stress. Worship. And, though I'm pregnant, it's my goal to run as long as I possibly can. Not to prove anything. It's just my season to run. I need it. I want it. I love it. It's my true Mommy's Moment.

A Plea

Dear Mr. Bee,

Perhaps I should rent A Bee Movie. I'm not totally familiar with your job. But from what I've gathered during these three and a half years of my life, I'm pretty certain the words bee and pollen go together in some way. Therefore, I'm writing you to plead on my mommy's behalf (and mine and Grant's) for some help. Yes, we need you. I know, I know, I've screamed at you several times. Forgive me. I'm young. You see, Mommy is having a hard time going outside with us. She says the pollen is making her sick. And, well, if Mommy doesn't go outside with us, it means we can't be pushed on the swings, we can't ride our bikes in the cul-de-sac, we can't leave the premises of our backyard. This is a problem. So, can you do your bee thing and like, suck up all that pollen and put it where it should go? Like on flowers? Forgive my ignorance. Just chalk it up to the fact I'm three. But surely, there is something you can do. For the sake of our sanity. We must go outside. I can't watch Mommy iron anymore clothes. So please, quit playing around. We need you. We need you desperately.

Sincerely,

Hannah E. Harman (the one who's bike you're on)

Our Favorite Ashley

A few weeks ago Aunt Ashley and Maggie stopped by for a short visit. Did you know we LOVE when Ashley and Maggie stop by? She even brought us icecream. YUM! I made sure I gave Maggie some extra special lovin'. Especially after I bopped her in the head with her ball. But you know, the great thing about Maggie is that she just goes with the flow. She's about as laid back as you can get. I like that. Maggie, our friendship will continue for many years. Thanks Ashley and Maggie for stopping by!

Puddle Jumping

Last you saw me in the rain, I was a bit hesitant. All that has changed. I am officially an experienced puddle jumper. And I owe this prestigious title to the GREAT PUDDLE. It's the puddle that surpasses all puddles. It measures 4 sidewalk squares long. It's depth, well, it's deep. The splash each jump creates can extend extremely far. For any small creature, it would cause a deep fear to stir in them just as a tidal wave may evoke a similar fear into our own hearts. Yes folks, it's that big. Only experience puddle jumpers who have the right puddle jumping wear should attempt such a feat. By puddle jumping wear, I'm referring to a durable, water resistant raincoat and some serious rain boots. I prefer my pink ones. As you can see, Grant is a novice. Why, might you ask? Well, notice, he has no raincoat. His hat (Go GSU!), well, at least he has a hat but his head will easily become soaked because it's not water resistant. The boots, well, he lucked out that I have TWO pair of rainboots aka puddle jumpers. Thankfully Grandmama found him some manly rainboots...bugs on 'em. Next rain day he'll at least have those. With time I'm sure he'll earn his raincoat with a water resistant hood. And by then, he'll have studied under me long enough in puddle jumpenomics that he will be able to hold his own as a puddle jumper. Experience takes time and dedication, something I've invested in and soon, he will have too.