My name is Jessie. I’m an over-thinking under-doer (Don’t think ‘dreamer’. Think ‘over-eager procrastinator’) that tries to not get upset at myself for leaving a mess everywhere I go. Insert nickname: Messy Jessie. I know at the end of the day, while the floor might be covered in shredded cheese and Super Hero costumes and an occasional cat-hair tumbleweed, it’s all because my husband and I have happy, healthy kids – and a cat – that fill our hearts with joy. My house is my home. It’s lived in, loved in, and if you put your blinders on, you’ll enjoy it here too. Click the tabs at the top to see some of the ‘episodes’ of the Jessie Show. My goal here is to #1. write. #2. make you laugh. #3. inspire you. Not necessarily in that order.
My kids are my world. And so you can “picture” them right off the bat as I tell my stories, here is a goofy picture of us. Josie is very pretty. I know it’s hard to tell how gorgeous her eyes are here. *wink wink* Below that are two of my favorite pictures of my kids.
Josephine is a mini-me. Not sure about her looks. We get “she looks like her daddy” a lot and then I hear “she looks just like you” often, too. What I mean by mini-me is SHE IS JUST LIKE ME. When I was her age. For instance, I’ve heard, that when I was little and my mom asked me to put my clothes away I would flop down on the sofa – or go straight to the floor – and whine like someone just asked me to wax their car, or mow a 100 acre farm. Josie does that. For simple things. “Go brush your teeth.” Josie whines, “Why? I hate brushing my teeth. Teeth are dumb. Wah Wah Wah.” Yep. I see it now Uncle John. You were right. Your little sister Jessie and your niece Josie are very much alike. No matter if she looks like me or Angelo. She is a mini-me.
Adrian is here because I wanted Josie to have a sibling. Now they have someone to pick on occasionally, but always someone to love and protect. He is the light and energy in this house (which sometimes gets him into trouble because mentally… I can’t afford those high utility bills… Get it? It’s a joke. A play on words. Oh well, you’ll get my humor soon enough.) and no matter how much I have to scold him to settle down, sit still, keep all four legs of the chair on the floor, lean over your plate, don’t leave your shoes and coat there, pick up your toys, etc. he always, always, always kisses me goodnight.