On this date, just one
year ago, I first met you
My beautiful girl

Your feet were so big
for your wee little body
So was your wailing

Week after week you cried
pleading for me to help you
My heart was broken

Eventually
smiles emerged, I forgave
and basked in your light

You blossomed and grew
becoming my laughing girl
Social and snuggly

Charming everyone
Smiling, you wave, and say hi
You make me so proud

Not so secretly
I soak up every minute
being your favorite 

You are one, my sweet.
I grasp for words just to say
how much I love you

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Tags: Little Monkeys, Pictures, haiku friday by Jennifer
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Call me picky, but
restaurants that remind me
of barns, poop are gross

Do I look like a 
pig, horse, goat, cow or sheep?  Hey!
Wait! Don’t answer that!

As I promised the other day, here is my thought-provoking post on my aversion to restaurants that remind me of barns or poop.

Let’s begin, shall we?  Poop seems as good a place to start as any.

1. The Little Nugget Steakhouse, located somewhere between Springfield, MO and Indiana.
Nugget?? Seriously?? Who thought this was a good idea? Nugget=poop, obviously. No can do.

2. The Feed Lot, with many locations across the US and Canada (why?)
I’m not a farm animal and would prefer not to eat in a place that sounds like I’ll be eating from a trough.  Oink.

3. Sirloin Stockade, located throughout the US and Mexico (O.  Le.)
There is a picture of a cow on the sign. Um. No thank you.  This somehow does not apply to pictures of pigs on signs for BBQ restaurants, unless of course, the BBQ restaurant has a barn-y or poopy name. 

4. Golden Corral, located wherever old people congregate
I will admit to having eaten at one and thoroughly enjoying the mac-n-cheese. This was YEARS ago, though, prior to developing a severe aversion to all things “buffet.” I do not eat at places that require sneeze guards AND attempt to make me feel like cattle.

Moo.

On a sidenote, when I was doing a little research for this post, I stumbled across a restaurant called The Pink Taco.  Go ahead and add “vagina” to the list of things I prefer not to be reminded of when eating out.

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Tags: Randomness, haiku friday, my stream of consciousness by Jennifer
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Where’d my baby go?
Once so needy, difficult
Now independent

“No Mommy.  Carson
do it by hisself.”  I watch
as he runs away.

He looks to make sure
I am watching, his face beams
as he climbs higher

I see no fear, as
he reaches the top, “ready,
set, go!” Down he slides

I swoop him up and
hold him close, sniff his boy smell
Dirt, grass, sweat, and love 

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:
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A fun-filled weekend
On Saturday, an auction
Sunday, Prophetstown

Thanks to that good-for-nothing Mother Nature, the weather in Indiana is FINALLY supposed to be warm(er) and sunny this weekend. This is a good thing because if the weather was cold, dreary, windy, and miserable like it was last weekend, I was going to be forced to pack up the family and head back to Alabama.

(I’m TOTALLY kidding about that. Going back to Alabama! That is cuh-razy talk.)

(ha.) (HAAA, HAA, HAAAA.) (CRAZY talk.) (HA!)

So anyhoo, what plans are on your docket for the weekend? What does your family do for fun? I’d really like to know so that in the event that Mother Nature screws my eyeballs out and wrecks the weekend, I could possibly have some ideas for alternatives so that we don’t end up back in Alabama.

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Mushy cereal
Ick.  Ick.  Ick.  Must be crunchy.
I love Frosted Flakes.

It’s time for another controversial post, don’t you think.  It’s been awhile since we discussed toilet paper direction or coke and peanuts, so I felt like it was time to spice things up a bit around here…and make the world a slightly better place tackling a very important subject…

Cereal.

I cannot STAND mushy cereal.  Blech.  After many, many mornings of having allowed my cereal to become mush during an extended soaking in milk due to having to feed my children, I’ve finally learned to wait to pour milk on my cereal until they are both settled and eating.  This means they both have food in front of them, drinks in front of them, bibs secured, toys out of sight, refills of milk and apple juice within arm’s reach, and a shot of tequila just in case. (I’m totally kidding about the tequila.  Sheesh, everyone knows you start the morning off with mimosas or screwdrivers or little Bailey’s/Kahlua/Irish whiskey in your coffee.  DUH.)

So mushy cereal.  It disgusts me, I much prefer my cereal to be crunchy and therefore delicious.  I know there are some people out there who purposely let their cereal sit in milk and ALLOW it become MUSHY.  *shudders in horror*

What side of the fence are you on?  Mushy?  Or are you awesome like me and prefer crunchy cereal?  While we’re at it, tell me your ALL TIME favorite cereal, sugarbombs be damned!

Remember my comment policy…be nice.  I mean, it’s JUST cereal we’re discussing today.  It’s not like I’m asking you to discuss Obama/Hillary/McCain.

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Out my back window
A beautiful sunrise waits
Pink, misty.  Lovely.

Next morning comes
With it, bringing graying clouds
Waiting for the rain

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Tags: Indiana, Pictures, haiku friday by Jennifer
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The curse has returned
Gone nearly three years with just
one Aunt Flo visit

Men.  This is your cue to leave promptly.  Quietly shut your browser and pretend you were never here.  Please return again tomorrow when I promise to talk about something ELSE like boobies or trucks.

So hello ladies!  It’s just us today, feel free to look around and note how CLEAN and tidy and sock-free everything is.  The counters are wiped and you have control of the remote. 

When I went to bathroom earlier in the week, I noticed something on my undies. 

“Huh?” I thought to myself.  “What in THE hell IS that?” 

It took a minute, but I finally came to my senses and realized, “Oh yes.  It’s THAT.” 

I wondered if I even had any feminine hygiene products in the house, but then remembered to my horror that my movers had packed and moved them in a box labeled “WOMEN’S PADS.”

So I retrieved one of my WOMEN’S PADS and set off to spread the word to Tate and explain to him why I had been picking fights and acting even more passive aggressive with him than normal for the previous week.

He looked at me, squinting and crinkling his nose.  I assumed that he was going to make my need to wear WOMEN’S PADS all about him and his needs. (gag)  Instead he was confused. 

“Is that even possible?” he asked.

Since the arrival had also surprised me, I decided to forgo the lesson on menstruation and wimmins for Tate.  Rather, I explained that yes, indeedio, it was possible.

“Well, I KNOW that it’s POSSIBLE, but I didn’t think IT would happen with the IUD,” to which I realized Tate had a point.  I didn’t think I’d need WOMEN’S PADS with the IUD. 

Of course I contacted my trusty family doctor **Google** and she explained that 20% of women did in fact have NO need for WOMEN’S PADS while the rest of us get to entertain an unwanted visitor every month. 

This is one of those times in my life that I really, really, really wish that I was less than average.

***************

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

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Tags: I am woman, Men?, haiku friday by Jennifer
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