Welcome to Steenky Bee. Unless you are super lame, you're going to find my site absolutely awesome. I've listed below sort of a "cheat sheet" to help you better understand our family dynamic.
That picture above? That's me. I'm Jen. I always look my best, including full makeup and expertly teased hair. I sport the shiniest. lips. ever. I'm prone to temper tantrums, rolling into town after years of reclusiveness and speaking in a very deliberate British accent. I frequently startle horses, marry men on their death bed and I have been known to push my nemeses (that's right people, plural) down the stairs.
I get excited about everything. I like nice people with mean streaks and strangers with free steaks. I will always smile at you and hold doors open for you, but I will hesitate to tell you that you've got a little schmutz on your face. I prefer not look at your feet until I've known you for at least two hours.
This hunk of hair covered man is my husband and soul-mate, Jeremy. He's awesome. He's funny and much, much better than me. He often spends his time wading in the vast oceans of Utah, talking on cordless phones and organizing his closet filled with Hawaiian shirts. This man can fix anything with duct tape. He enjoys having a trophy-wife (5th place, Holla!), solving murders, the outdoors, talking on the phone (it had to be said again), yelling at the television and being awake at 3:00 am.
This is Henry, or at least what we predict our son Henry will look like in 2030. Except, he'll have way better hair and a more flexible wardrobe. Currently, Henry enjoys talking out of turn, running in circles and making marks on our walls. He has the most curious nature about him. I firmly believe this is why he constantly asks me, "Mommy, what's wrong with your hair?" He is awesome and adorable and several other flattering words that begin with the letter "A".
Once Henners grows up, we fully expect for him to lose the ability to bend his arms, begin wearing ascots, riding around in the passenger seat of pink corvettes and become eye candy for a high maintenance woman who, for some reason, only walks on the balls of her teeny, tiny feet.
Last, but certainly not least, this is Reese. She is the baby of the family. She is also the royalty of the family. She's our sweet and charming little girl who has the innate ability to look beautiful and demure one moment, then suddenly throw you into a head lock and kick your ass the next. For realsies. Don't believe me? Ask her older brother up there. Oh, she looks all innocent up there in her flowing white frock, but did you see that gun? Yeah, you'd better recognize.
Reese is such a force in our house and for that, we couldn't be more grateful. She gets her southern charm from her birth mama (Hello Keely!), her rebelliousness from her birth father (Hello Tim!), her secret stash of action hero figures from her big brother (don't worry, I'll never rat you out to Henry) and her deadly aim from her father.