I’m the oldest kid in our family, and I didn’t come along until my parents had been married for 3 years. They thought they’d maybe never get to have any kids. (Bet you’re surprised about that one, eight kids later!) When I was little, I was definitely a daddy’s girl, and my Dad knew it. Just in case anyone else forgot it, he taught me to say “Love my Daddy best.” So much for the whole candy bar theory, right? Thank goodness my Mom was patient with him.

Cassie’s got me beat though.  This week, she made “Love my Daddy best” seem like very. small. potatoes. She and Dad were doing dishes this week when I walked in on their conversation.

Cassie: “Dad, I’m going to be SO spoiled when I’m looking for a husband, because I’m going to want him to be as good looking and as hardworking as you. I’m not going to find ANYONE like that.”

Dad: “Well, it’s not time for that yet. But when it is, you’ll find someone.”

Cassie: “Oh, no I won’t. I will be too picky because of you.”

On Father’s Day today, I’m counting my blessings that I’ve got my Dad. He’s the best man I know, hands down. So even though Cassie’s got me beat, I’ll say it today – I love my Daddy best.

You might wonder why the smiley face is in honor of Cassie. It could be because she’s so pleasant. Or because we all smile when we’re around her. Or because we thought she looked like red ketchup on a bun. Take your pick. If you really want to know what it’s for though, I’ll tell you. A few months ago, I took the kids to Ma & Pa’s (Dad’s favorite down home diner). Cassie got a burger. And when it came time for the ketchup, she Very. Carefully. Drew a smiley face.

Mom and I went today – and in honor of Cassandra, there you have it. One happy little cheeseburger.

My MOM is the baddest bad apple in our house. Since she wasn’t born a Christensen, I can still claim to be the baddest bad apple of the Christensen family. (Like that argument? It’s a little flimsy for a lawyer, but I’ll argue it anyway.) We all love her. You want reasons? We’ve got them. And much like the Alisha post, this is from everyone.

• She dances in the kitchen.
• And in the living room.
• And in her studio.
• And anywhere else. What can we say? She’s got rhythm, and when she hears a good song, she can’t help but move. It’s a trait she passed on. Everyone dances at our house. Except Dad. Obviously, he was not so lucky to have Mom pass on that gene to him. It just doesn’t work that way.
• She’s fun to sit on.  In fact, this is Reece’s favorite thing to do. I’m not positive that it’s Mom’s favorite thing, but she humors him. She even tells him he’s her favorite child. That is, of course, a lie. *I* am her favorite child.
• She’s a rockstar. Especially after she gets her hair done. And yes, she can totally do the headbanging moves. If you’ve ever seen Alisha or Cassie, this is also a genetic trait.
• She let us have cake on Sunday for breakfast when I was growing up. You know, so we’d look forward to Sundays. Since we couldn’t play outside or do other weekday sort of things, it was definitely a bonus. Sometimes we’d have ice cream instead of cake. And sometimes we’d have both. (And sometimes we still do that sort of thing. We love Sundays at our house.)
• She’s an excellent painter. And she’s used us for models for a lot of her paintings. Except for Logan and Reece, who are not quite as beautiful as the rest of us. Or they just won’t hold still long enough. You be the judge.
• She’ll stay up all night talking to us. Or she’ll stay up all night working on a project. She’s a night owl. I definitely did NOT get that gene. Samantha and Reece, on the other hand, definitely got it. Jealous.
• She loves our Dad. Like crazy. We know, who wouldn’t?

You can see, there are all sorts of reasons that she’s the baddest bad apple. We could keep going, but we’d be at it all day. And since it’s Mother’s Day, we’re trying to spend a little bit of it with her. We love her. What more can we say?

• “What are those, pigs?” – Mom, the country girl. Not. We were driving past a field with a lot of GOATS in it when she asked the question. Granted, Mom was driving. But how do you get PIGS confused with GOATS?
• “I see all the cow faces and it reminds me of Barry.” – Jessie (19), the REAL country girl, aka NOT Mom. Jessie works at a dairy (where she sees cow faces) and Barry is her boyfriend. Barry’s on a two-year mission in Fresno, California. Maybe he should be worried if Jessie’s reminded of him when she sees COWS. PS – Barry is not nickname-protected because Jessie has his real name on her own blog. Plus I don’t know what nickname we would use for him. “Jessie’s COWboy” would maybe work, given that she sees cow faces and thinks of him.
• “You are not even CLOSE to a cow.” – Reece (16), the king of compliments. You know him as the Cowboy Casanova, but he can have more than one title. I was trying to figure out how much our cows weighed… when I said 125 (which is what I weigh) he informed me of the above “fact.” Oh – and at the time I said that, our cows weighed probably 300-350 lbs. Maybe 400 lbs.  Maybe I have a misconception about how 125 lbs looks. (And maybe Jessie should take a cue from Reece so that Barry doesn’t cry when he realizes that Jessie thinks of him when she sees cow faces.)
• “When you turn 25, then you’ll be an antique!” – Samantha (11), commenting on my upcoming birthday in August. I wonder what that makes Dad (who hit the big 5-0 last October).  How do you get better- or older-  than “antique”?
• “Dad, when you’re too old to remember, I’m going to sell the house and buy an RV. Then I’m going to take you all sorts of places.” – Cassie (almost 10), when talking about her “assignment” as the youngest child. That assignment? She’s taking care of them in their old age. We all voted, and she got the job. Maybe Dad should rethink that one. Unless he wants to go all sorts of places.

Can you see why I’m always laughing? Oh. Maybe you didn’t realize I’m always laughing. Trust me, it’s hard to stop with a family as fun as mine. I totally love them. And I’ve gotta admit – it’s a real relief to know that I’m nothing close to a cow, even if I’m going to be an antique soon.

Let me lay it out for you – Reece, Wade, and I versus Logan, Jessie and the 2.0s. We had a definite strategy on our team. (Of course, laying it out here might put us at a disadvantage for next time, but I’m pretty sure that they caught onto what we were doing.) Basically, I guarded OUR flag and the boys went after THEIR flag. And we captured their flag three times. It was when we varied from that strategy that we ran into problems. (It could have had something to do with the fact that Jessie wasn’t around for the first two games either, but Logan and the 2.0s should have been able to take us.)

You see, I’m not faster than Logan. Have you seen that man? What was I thinking? Of course, at the same time I was thinking that I could be faster than Logan, Wade also thought he was faster than Jessie. And most of the time Wade is. But somehow Jessie caught him. (Don’t worry Wade, I’m sure it was a fluke.)

Enter Reece’s last stand. Surprisingly enough, he lasted for quite awhile against the four of them while Wade and I watched. Finally I got up and took a few pictures – totally against the rules, but really, what were they going to do about it? He did look a little crazed by the time they were done with him. See his picture above if you don’t believe me. And see the rest of our pictures to see how much fun we all have together. (ALISHA, this is reason number 2491.)

PS – Notice that Sam and I ARE really close to the same height.

• Cassie will give you a puppy. Dad will throw in a full-grown dog.
• Wade will sing “Happy Birthday!” to you every day.
• You could camp on Mom & Dad’s couch and save money for a down payment for your Victorian House – Dad says you could get one for around $400 a month! You could maybe even skip the camping out on the couch with all the programs to try and get people in houses.
• Free food on the weekends (per Mom).  No, she is not committing to weekdays.
• Reece. Is. Here.
• We can sing together – no one plays the guitar as well as you.
• Cassie will do your chores.
• Sam will paint your nails.
• We love you.

Just promise you’ll think about it. Because we miss you. And Happy Birthday!

At first we said we’d have a “girls night plus Wade.” He quickly corrected us – we were going to have a “girls night plus THE MAN.” And we did – a little popcorn, a movie, cupcakes and some nail polish. (The Man skipped out on the nail polish.)

This isn’t the first time this week that Wade has cracked me up. Mom and I were hanging out at the table while all the boys were being their usual crazy selves.  I said we needed to think of a word to describe them – without skipping a beat, Wade had one. “Sexy.” And then he walked out of the room.

Can I just tell you I love my life? Really, how could I not?

My first memories of Valentine’s Day involved special Valentines on our kitchen table surrounded by great treats. (Thanks Mom!) For a couple of years, I didn’t realize that Valentine’s Day was a “romantic love” sort of holiday – I just thought it was a day where everyone made sure to tell the people they loved that they loved them. Really, you should be doing that on a pretty regular basis – how sad would it be if you saved all your telling for one day a year?!? I know that I’d never have enough time to make sure that everyone I loved knew it.

In the spirit of the holiday, this Monday night my siblings, mom and I spent the night making hearts for each other. (Dad is in Brazil, or he would have been making them too, don’t worry. He still likes us. Why on earth do you think he goes to work every other month?) We put them up on the doors in our house so that we’d all remember how much we love each other. (Kind of like texting - except better.)

Here are a few of my favorites…

Is it any wonder I heart my family?

This morning, we were doing the deed – Cassie had asked me to take care of her unibrow at the same time I was annihilating mine – and I told her that “Sometimes it hurts to be beautiful.” Almost instantly she responded, “Then I don’t want to be beautiful!” Fortunately for her, she’s beautiful both ways. Unfortunately for her, at the same time she was yelling, I took her unibrow right off.* Distraction is everything. Besides, sugaring doesn’t hurt nearly as much as waxing. Don’t ask me why – I have no idea.

*Before you think I am into inflicting cruel and unusual punishment, Cassie’s been sugared before. She totally knew what she was getting into.

One thing that Sam and I both love? Spa treatments! Yes, it starts at an early age. She turned eleven this weekend and she wanted a spa day. We brought it to her. And if she ever says that Mom, Jessie or I don’t love her, I’m going to show her pictures of us scrubbing little ten year old feet for pedicures. Who would do THAT if they didn’t love her? PS – I’m just posting happy pictures. No need to relive any feet-scrubbing if we don’t have to.