I miss you.

Those were the first words my sweet Jovie ever text me. TEXT!  I hit the open road this morning at 7am to live in Sioux City, Iowa for the week to open our 12th MODE store. Last night at bedtime, I told Jovie that I would set up her iPad to be able to text me. (and only me.)
This morning, in our pajamas and with foggy eyes, I showed her that I text her last night. It said, “Have a good day at school, Jovie!” I went through and showed her where to type and how she could take a photo and send that also if she’d like.
After a quick 5 minute crash course, I packed up the rental car and hit the open (and flat) road. 4 hours, 15 minutes, and $24 in gas in my rental VW Beetle, I arrived and found my first text message. Here it is:

The lip. With the face. The finger in front of the camera. I can’t even handle it. What a bizarre moment- when your child texts you for the first time. Strange. I love it, it’s fun to see what she comes up with on her own. Here’s the next one:

“Norm is having fun.” Norman and his blankie. He drags that stinky thing all over the house. He loves it. Do you know what one of my favorite things about Iowa is currently? Norman’s not here! ( I really do love him.)

One more from this morning, then I swear I’m done:

Sereyl. Sereyl! Sound it out and send it to your mama! I know what you’re talking about– I finish your soggy bowl of circles for you every single morning! Duh!

Big stuff in the Larson house. This makes being away from home a little bit easier, they are always good for a chuckle and a smile. I may regret showing her this tool in the near future, but I also know that I may become the last person on the planet she will want to text and my text messages will be the reason for a ton of eye rolls and embarrassment. But for now, I’ll enjoy the fact that she thinks she is SOOO cool because she can text me–her mama.

Norman Larson.

Oh. Hi there. What have I been doing all this time that didn’t include writing in my blog that I keep swearing I’m not going to neglect? Well, the answer to that question is losing my mind. I have lost my mind completely. So much so that investing in a pure bred pee machine seemed like the right direction to guide my family. Great. Idea. Mindi.

Norman 8 Weeks Old

Alas, Norman Larson has taken control of my free time, my nap time, my lunch break time, and any other time that I used to fill with things that didn’t involve an obnoxious, wild, and yet absolutely adorable puppy with GIANT ears not used for hearing one single thing you want. Weeks 1-3 were lots of sleeping and admiring his cute face, clumsiness, and watching him learn about the world. Weeks 4 and on have been….what’s the word….intense. I’ll choose that because ABSOLUTE $H*TSHOW are inappropriate perhaps. There is a reason God made Basset Hound puppies so cute. 

All kidding aside (except I’m mostly serious) he’s going to be a delight. In like- 6 months. Or years-whatever. He’s not the typical Basset coloring, he’s called lemon and white. We chose the name Norman because we like to name our animals after old men. Norman was one of eight puppies and he was the last one left. No one wanted him. Why wouldn’t anyone want this puppy- the only one of the litter that was this color? Answer: He’s missing a toe. One tiny digit that serves little purpose. He’s considered “imperfect”. Whatever, Trevor…

One Digit Short

 

How does Leo like Norman? The question everyone asks. Well, my golden child, the best dog of all time, acts as though Norm doesn’t exist. He is on the couch, watching from 18″ above the chaos and sloppy wet ears. He still is the king of the castle as far as the pets go. He still get the occasional table scraps and he sleeps with us every night. Since we got Norman he also is able to be out of his kennel during the daytime when we are at work. So he really made out quite well with the acquisition of the pair of ears.

Leo’s face says it all.

So far I am down one flip flop, one of my shoes is “custom” with 7,000 puppy teeth marks, one plastic toy puppy, 2 pencils, a bead necklace, countless crayons and about 5 rawhide bones. He escaped his kennel twice, can go up and down the stairs, is afraid of lots of things, and can’t get on the furniture. (Hallelujah!) And have I even mentioned the sleep positions?!

Nighty Night, freak show

The ears. As useful as a screen door on a submarine. (That was a Rogerism.) 

Perhaps when Norman gets his act together, grows up a little, I’ll update you all with my new outlook on Norman. Until then, I’ll continue to allow him to live with us. Unless any more of my shoes are ruined…

Have a Norman-Free Friday!

-Mindi