Saturday, August 10, 2013

On the Move

Last night while skyping with Nandy and Pa, Kinley gave us a good show! 

I think she liked having an audience who was cheering loudly for her! So glad they got to see her first little solo walking experience.

This isn't from when she actually did it but, of course, we made her do it again and again. She won't stand up and take off on her own but I'm okay with that! 

One step at a time! literally.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013


Yes, we really had this mailed to us by someone in our neighborhood. Address typed with a typewriter on the envelope and nothing else.

I have a lot to say about this....
1- REALLY?!?!
2- if you are brave enough to write the letter, sign it. Wuss. Or you are afraid of how one might comment on the appearance of your yard?
3- how many letters did you write and use your typewriter to address it? Did you write a letter to the houses that desperately need repainted? Or the one with 4 cars in the driveway, 2 in the street (blocking the fire hydrant and my driveway) and none in their garage? Or the one with more weeds than grass? Or the one that has dead limbs hanging from the tree for a long time now? Or the folks that don't bother edging and let weeds grow into the street? Or the people that let their dog out in their front yard to use the bathroom? Or the people that let their cat out to torment my dog... In my own backyard!? Or the people that have overgrown bushes at their mailbox, which are flowing out into the street? Or the ones that park their truck in their yard?

Some day when you come home to "the ghetto" you can thank us (and my girlfriends for brainstorming the ideas) for putting our truck on cinder blocks, not mowing the yard (we should probably put the mower up on blocks too since we won't be using it), walking the hood with a dirty, naked baby on my hip, cigarettes stuffed in my bra straps and pockets hanging out of the bottom of my cutoff jean shorts along with my butt cheeks. And lady neighbors, don't worry my baby daddy will be with me to keep your men away. For your viewing pleasure, he will have on a wife beater, cutoff shorts (hanging half way down his butt), some chew in his lip, his gold and diamond grill, and of course, his mullet. I've also considered new decorations for my flowerbed... beer cans, milk jugs, and a sign!
 "Welcome to the ghetto... and the nicest yard in the neighborhood!"

It seems you have time on your hands so you can also watch to see that we do in fact know how to use a push broom... how do you think the small amount of clippings from edging get into the street, jackass? No Internet tutorial needed. 

How about you "help create a more favorable impression" to the folks that live in your ghetto and talk to a neighbor instead of sending a cowardly letter in the mail. 

Thanks for your input.

PS- I'll have you know that my baby daddy takes a lot of pride in keeping his yard mowed, edged, weed free, and alive to a very bright shade of green, unlike many others in the ghetto. So if you really find that our yard work doesn't seem to meet your standards, you obviously know where I live, so come do it yourself. 

(As I type this, said baby daddy is mowing a yard that we technically do not own, just because he wants to have a nice yard when we do move in.)

She had a good run!

1 day shy of 11 months, this cow was put to pasture. It was a bittersweet feeling to put that pump away. It was my BFF for 11 months. It went everywhere with me. {Heck, I should've named it but never thought about it until right now...maybe next time.}

I definitely think it was a very successful 11 months. Rewarding too. Not only did I nourish my baby, I was able to donate for other babies through the milk bank in North Texas. I was even blessed enough to help a baby I know.

I have said that I don't know that I've ever truly been called by God to do something. I mean, I still don't know, it's not like the phone rang and I answered to the big man upstairs. But the feeling to help was heavy on my heart. It was the first thing that came to mind when I heard about my friend's situation. It was the last thing on my mind before I fell asleep and the first thing there when I woke up.

It seemed like my supply had started to dwindle but I just kept going knowing that a little guy was going to benefit from it. When families in the NICU need breast milk that is where the donated milk and milk bank comes in... Did you know it can cost $7 an ounce?! And insurance isn't known to cover it. I dropped some milk off the night before he was born so he would be set to go. 

Due to my supply dropping, I wasn't able to donate to him as long as I would have liked but I still had my baby girl to feed. My heart was happy to help though,even it was for a short time.

Here's a little picture from when I visited Mr. C in the hospital.

Since my donating days, Oklahoma has now opened a milk bank in Oklahoma City. I hope that next time around I can send them some milk!