I spent years, 6 to be exact, dreaming of leaving my small South Texas home town, of breaking free from that tiny community where everyone knows way too much about each other. Population less than 3,500 and it seemed that half of them were related to me to some degree. I never considered myself much of a country girl. The last time I rode a horse was in 7th grade before I fell off and broke my arm mere weeks before cheerleading tryouts. Devastating. Never had the desire to get back on or be around one since, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Kendall’s able to ride one on his own in a few years, leading, no doubt, to the begging and pleading for one of his own.

When we go “home” to visit my mom (Kendall’s Nana, or “NA” as he likes to call her), like we did this last weekend, Kendall is THRILLED to pack his mud boots and talks all about the “orses” and the “moos” and the “wowers”. This time he got to see some tiny “woofs”, too. Though, he wasn’t nearly as excited about the puppies as I thought he would be. The whole time he kept looking at them, asking where the “orses” are. After all, he can see dogs anytime he’d like back at his house.

It’s funny that I worked so hard to leave this place only to have my kid fall in love with it.

Kendall is 22 months old and still despises the 6 hour drive home from Nana’s house. Also, he will forever have a black eye.