Her goal is "to raise decent, kind human beings," Harmon says. And the girls are being brought up with a healthy dose of manners ("They know to say please and thank you") and religion. "I don't think they get the concept of God yet, but we're working it in slowly," she says. "You have to make it fun. So we pray at meals, and then, before bed, Finley prays for her gecko and her sister."
But don't get the impression that they live on Walton's Mountain. "Everyone gets made fun of," Harmon says. "We want them to have a good sense of humor." To that end, she and Sehorn affectionately refer to their tall daughters as Sasquatches. "We're hoping if they hear it at home, it won't hurt when they hear it at school." Harmon doesn't spare herself a derisive nickname, either: "I'm the family cream puff," she says of her lack of athletic prowess. Her lean body would suggest otherwise, though, and the daughter of two fashion models readily admits that she has genetics to thank: "I'd really rather go for a walk with the girls than get on the treadmill."
If only, she says, she could operate in the four gears that her daughters do: "Wake, eat, burn calories, sleep." Finley "has a six-pack and not an ounce of fat. She runs around nekkid all the time," Harmon says, slipping into her native Texas twang. "And her rear end is up on her shoulders, like her dad's. Avery, meanwhile, is in the big-stomach, droopy-butt phase. She looks like a delicious bread roll with Barney Rubble brick feet."
The couple would like to have at least one more child—"he wants one more, and I want two or three more, so I may have to get him drunk on date night," she deadpans. In the meantime, Harmon loves watching her girls come into their personalities—however different theirs are from her own. "They are fanatics about bugs; Finley will pick up a slug and kiss it. When they want to go look for slugs, I'll be like, 'You want to go to Neiman's? Maybe Barneys? Okay, no, let's look for slugs.'"
