The Artist: The one who got this whole crazy joke started, the Artist stole my heart at age 17. He said he wanted to be a computer animator and that is exactly what he is. That, and a whole lot of wonderful. If he weren't so humble I'd worry about his ego, but the truth is if you know him - you love him. Simple.
The Artist loves photography, modern design, helvetica font and motorcycles. Oh yeah, and his girls.
The Cowgirl: She's the little person who transformed the Artist and I into parents. Which we didn't appreciate as much as we thought we would for the first two years. She screamed her way right into toddlerhood, and apparently got it all out of her system because she has turned into the most delightful, obedient chica I know.
The Cowgirl jumps horses and trains at a local barn once a week. She is half monkey, can climb our neighborhood lightpoles straight to the top and is too smart for my own good.
The Dancer: Remember Ramona from those Beverly Cleary Books? That little, rambunctious pest who could make every kind of trouble and everyone loves her anyway? Yep. That about sums it up. She was born way too pretty with huge eyes and a delicate elfin face and a little tadpole body and she knows, deep down, that whatever she does wrong, people will keep laughing at her little elf ears and kissing her little elf face. I know I'm the mom, but she sings with incredible pitch for a three year old, dances with some semblance of grace and causes about 83% of our family emergencies. We like her that way.
