Her first portrait

That is a view of her face from the front





This is her profile





Her feet and one of her hands

It's a Girl!

Well, this calls for changing my blue text to pink. We are having a girl! We are so happy and excited! She is healthy and has all her wonderfully, small parts. Thank you God for our healthy baby girl.

Tomorrow is Gender Day

Well tomorrow is the day we find out the gender of our lil baby. It is pretty exciting. I really don't care either way, but it will be nice to be able to call the baby a he or a she. It is funny all the things you think about before you know. For instance; I know Kevin was quite the typical little boy when he was young. He did all the bad things you think of when you think of boys. He still has a few of those bad habits today, but those are typical male characteristics, I believe.

I have always thought I wanted boys, but now that I really think about it, it is really scary. I grew up with 3 older sisters and now two of those sisters have little girls. My nieces are both very sweet, loving, and sensitive girly girls. If a boy comes into the family, is he going to urinate all over the house, run around naked, cuss at age 2, smoke at age 5, or flip everyone off behind my back? Girls don't do any of that until they are in high school and by that time parents are done being concerned with what their kids are up to.

I sit in church every Sunday and picture what our child is going to look like walking down the aisle to children's sermon, in front of the whole church. Scenario 1: A precious little red-headed little girl, wearing a beautiful, fluffy, yellow dress, with her hair perfectly brushed with a giant bow on top. Scenario 2: A red headed little boy wearing nice pants a nice shirt that is buttoned wrong and half untucked, cowboy boots that he wouldn't leave the house without, and kool-aid stained moustache. And of course he screams profanities all the way down the aisle. Of course everyone in the church laughs, but in the back of their minds they are thinking "his mother needs to get him under control."

So, that is what I have been thinking about for the last 4.5 months. Ok, I have been thinking about how great it will be to have either one too, but there are more concerns about a boy than a girl. I have to realize though that having a boy is the unknown and the unexplored for my family.

Those are my deep thoughts from Momma Cass. All my scenarios will be answered tomorrow.

Happy Birthday Tipper

Wow, how do I describe my Dad, Terry "Tipper" Butt? I wouldn't say he is a complicated man, but he is definitely hard to put into words. However, today is his birthday and I want to honor him on this day. It might be hard to describe him in words, but he is definitely worth honoring.

When I was little I wanted to be just like my Dad. I wore the tiny little wrangler jeans, red cowgirl boots, and a belt (with my name on the back) that held up a gigantic belt buckle that my Dad had won at one of his many rodeos. I wanted to ride horses, herd cattle, and chew tobacco just like him. Things changed of course as I got older. I finally realized that I didn't really want to be a cowgirl, but instead a cowgirl at heart. Oh, and chewing tobacco isn't that ladylike. That didn't mean that I didn't want to be like my Dad, I just didn't have to look just like him.

I love telling people that my Dad is a true cowboy. People think that is the neatest thing in the World. And it is. How many people have ever seen their Dad, or anyone for that matter, "break" a horse, rope a cow, doctor a cow, or ride a tractor? Not many people work with their hands or the land like my Daddy does. Sure he is the boss now and has people do most of the work for him, but believe me, he put in his long, hard days of work. Farmers and ranchers don't get a lot of respect or money for that matter. My dad and other cowboys are very overlooked for their dedication and hard work.

My dad is more than a cowboy though. He is a tough love, no bullshit, generous, loving man. He might look tough, but he still tells his daughters that he loves them and kisses them hello and goodbye. Although he has never had the chance (and hopefully never will), I know he would step in front of a bus for us or hurt anyone that hurts us. I'll never forget the way he held me and my sister the day our Grandma died. He knew how much pain we were in and he wanted nothing other than to let us know he was there for us and we could cry in his arms. There is nothing better than having your strong daddy embrace you and make you feel like you are protected from the World.

He was my basketball coach as a young kid; he came to almost every track meet, basketball game, softball game, spelling bee, or operation I had. We might not be two peas in a pod (I am a little bit more like my Mom than Dad), but I embrace every piece of me that is essentially him and am thankful for all the traits that I got from him. I hope that every year we will only grow closer and that I will learn from him all the aspects that make him who he is.

Happy Birthday Daddy! I hope it is a great one and that you know how much you mean to me!