House of Rock

One memory I hope to hear my children talk about when they get older are the nights that Dad would listen to his new uploaded music. On nights like that the music would get turned up loud and the kids would jam and dance till Mom's nerves couldn't take it anymore.  Did I mention that Dad would start this little ritual just as the bedtime routine would begin.  Ya, not always the best time to start jamming.  Depending upon my mood, and how done I was being a Mom for the day,  the session varied from long to super short.  


This particular session happened downstairs.  I think they were listening to an Adele song.  I love the microphones made out of playdough.  And I especially love how into the song Brent gets.  That man cracks me up.  One of the many reasons I married him.

Just FYI, Grace more often then not, looks like a Ragamuffin.  On the days that I do her hair, which is about 80% of the time, she ends up taking it out halfway through the day.  Making it look like she has a mother who could care less what she looks like.  Which is never the case.  Sometimes I feel like chopping off her long locks, but when she does keep her hair in it looks so stinking cute I end up push those feelings back down to my toes.  Until the next day when she pulls out my peices of artwork, or she plays so hard that it just simply falls out.  Which contributes a lot to her raggy look.  It will be a miracle if she and I make it to her first day of kindergarten.