I got baby dressed up in her pretty blue rodeo dress (from Aunt Mandy, who is going to teach her how to barrel race someday!), hauled my saddle in, got a fleece blanket, brown fabric for a backdrop, the step ladder, and my camera.
Lights. Camera. Action.
Karity did pretty good for quite awhile. Until I laid her on the saddle and put her little arms around the horn. She smiled at me, and then in a split second, rolled over and down the stirrup fenders.
Yep, little girl got bucked off.
As her uncles would say.
She landed on her back and her little eyes got really, really wide. And her little mouth pursed up in a knot.
And then she howled.
She howled as if she had just gotten pitched off a rank one trying to go for eight seconds (not just rolled over a slight decline onto three layers of quilted blankets).
But Mommy felt TERRIBLE. Then she told her real cowgirls have to get back on.
Because it's not how many times you get bucked off, Karity, it's how many times you get back on. And when your Mommy likes to take pictures ... sometimes you have to get back on a lot.
Hang in there cowgirl. Mommy loves you.
|Cowgirl even though you're riding tall, you're riding for a fall.|