And we’ll call it ‘tour de feet’

My sister, Kate, and her boyfriend, Jake, and the gang on the four wheeler.

"If you want to see ugly feet," Katie declared while we were all piled in the living room at my little sister's new house in the country, "then check-out Kim's feet!"

"Shush-up!" I answered as I tried to hide my feet and all their hyped ugliness.

"Her first four toes are all. the same. length," she started in on the details. "And then the little toe in only this big"

I've heard it all before. In fact one high school summer, Heath Blackwood took one look at my sandal exposed feet in Sunday School and exclaimed, "Dude! Do you even have a pinky toe?"

It true. My feet are u.gly!

First four toes: all the same length. Pinky toe: short, fat, barely there. Width: wide. Toenails: uneven, brittle, always breaking. Arch: shallow. Heals: calloused, cracked, dry, painful.

Summertime's the worse time for my feet. They're dry. They crack. And their ever present ugliness only becomes more glorified.

This time of year, about August, my feet start to out shine all things ugly and repulsive. Months of flip-flops and moseying outside barefoot are ever so evident. My toe paint is chipped, at best, but usually just stained with unverifiable remnants of the last real polish job. Even the tips of my toes are calloused.

It's gross.

*****

Today was the epitome of a great day.

The kids and I spent the morning rock climbing.

We didn't let the fact that we weren't wearing the proper footwear slow us down.

We lunched at the park, and then played on the toys.

We came home and Jace napped.  Brynlee and I spent the afternoon, barefoot, eating popsicles and playing Go Fish underneath the crabapple tree.  Go Fish was followed by a quick nap for the tuckered out four-year-old.

Spencer came home. The two of us watched the storm through the front window. We woke the kids so they wouldn't miss out on the perfect summer storm. Boots, jackets and a couple paper sailboats. Puddle jumping.

Dinnertime, followed by a couple loops around the neighborhood. Brynlee on her bike and Jace in the stroller. It smelt like rain.  Backyard swinging, jumping and a few weed pulling. Pajamas, bendaroos and a movie. Bedtime.

*****

Last night I had a thought. An epiphany, if you will.  An epiphany that was only confirmed by today's great day.

These feet, albeit ugly, are my feet. Feet that live. Feet that swell with each pregnancy and are dirty black at the end of a good summer day. Feet that blister when I set a weight loss goal, and are speckled with paint after home construction. Toenails that break when stubbed on playroom toys. Feet that never cease to carry me and tired children. Feet that jump on the tramp, walk around the neighborhood, help push strollers and set the rocking chair into motion for me and my babies. Feet that get warmed up on Spencer during the winter and soak in the kiddy pool during the summer. Feet that work. Feet that play. Feet that enjoy. Feet that tell a story. A story that I love.

******

Sunday starts a new month, August.

I'll just let that sink in for a minute.

Not tomorrow, but the next day! It's August, people.

Sunday, August 1^st, is also going to be the start of a new little mini-series challenge on this here blogity blog. It will be in honor of it being August and, therefore, my feet registering at a ten on the uglometer.   

I'm going to title the challenge tour de feet.  {Feel free to refer to it as tour de ugly feet is you feel so inclined.} Throughout August I'll give you a glimpse of our life unedited via a foot picture. My u.gly feet, my hubby's feet, my children's feet, playmate's feet, your feet, Spence's bosses feet, all feet are on equal playing ground {Well, except for maybe Spence's bosses' feet. What? My feet need an income.}

In August, the feet will tell the story.  And before then I'm going to try to put a fresh coat of paint on these toenails of mine.

P.S.

I love company.

If you would like to join me on the tour de feet,

consider yourself personally invited.

And also,

as always,

my blog my rules

your blog your rules.

If you decide to join me

feel free to change up the tour de feet

to fit you and your blogging style.

You don't have to post everyday if you don't want.

Or for the entire month of August.

Your blog, you make up the rules.

M'kay.

Oh, and if you're going to play along

let me know.

What good is company if you don't even know they stopped by to visit.

booyah

Guess who learned to do a front flip on the trampoline?

My daughter did.  She rockin'!

Video of Brynlee doing flip: Take One.

Video of Brynlee doing flip: Take Two. 

{For some reason I couldn't get the audio to upload on the second video.

To be honest, I only tried once and for some reason there was video but no audio.
I may or may not have done a tiny celebratory dance.
Hearing my {high-pitched talking to children} voice on the video camera. . . it's like fingernails down the chalkboard.

Only worse. [[shudder]] }

P.S.

And in other big news,

Jace can land on his bum while jumping on the tramp.

That kid is RAD!  

{Did you miss it?

Re-watch

Video of Brynlee doing flip: Take Two}

Ready, set, RUN

Do you want to know what makes my mommy heart sing?


Watching my little guy run, that's what.

Both arms semi-straight. Uncontrollably swinging; back and forth, left and right, back and forth. Head bobbing. Legs kicking outward. Both legs leaving the ground at the same time. Sorta floating, sorta skipping, sorta jumping, sorta an accident waiting to happen.

But oh so adorable.

It's like all things good. And fun. Wrapped up into one little running package.

Sometimes I ask if he wants to race just so I can watch him. It really is that cute.

And he's mine forever! Am I one lucky mommy, or what?
 

Room for our luggage AND the double stroller.

Shortly after my big sis, Jessica, had her first little pink bundle of joy she bought a minivan. Her way of embracing motherhood, I guess.

Spencer and I were newly married and didn't have any kids to claim as our own. Or to drive around town, for that matter. It was just the two of us, so we traveled light. "Let's never drive a van," I told Spence. And he agreed, wholeheartedly.

Pssst. . . over the weekend we bought a van. Oh yes we did. And I think its rad.

We tried to talk ourselves into buying a SUV. We read about SUV's, we looked at SUV's, we test drove SUV's; and then as a very last vehicular hope, we drove a van. The kids squealed with delight. All their cool cousins ride backseat of vans.

We drove around town mivivan style. We played with the gadgets. We listened to Brynlee's four-year-old voice of peer-pressuring reason. And then. . . we fell in love. WITH A MINIVAN. We bought it. Just like that. Papered signed. Minivan purchased.

I drove the van home. Spencer told me I looked sexy driving a van. I laughed. Then he said that we needed to have three more kids to fill up all the empty seats. I rolled my eyes.

Later that night, Brynlee and I went grocery shopping. Like a broken record she repeated, over and over and over, how cute our new "band" was.

We worked on saying Vv-Aa-Nn instead of band. No real success. But that's okay, because our BAND is rockin'. And we're proud.

For those of you that want the band details.

We bought it used.

A Toyota Sienna XLE Limited.

It's gray.

With leather seats, a navigation/dvd system

and oodles of cup holders.

And since 98% of my readers are female,

I'm positive that's all the details you were looking for.

Right?

Don't we look like van people?