~~Libby's Graduation~~

Libby is finally getting her wish and gets to go to Kindergarten next year. She was so happy to graduate from Preschool.


First we played outside and she rode that funny little trike around giving all her friends rides.

Then they sang and gave the parents a little program- so cute and they did it in two languages (Better than I could do!)


Then presentation of the awards and pictures with the teachers.


She loves these ladies so much!!


Then we ended with pictures of all her little friends. It was so cute, she ran around to al the little groups and drug them over one at a time so she would have a picture of each one!!






Then it was time to go home and after 2+ years of crying and whining and begging to go to 'real' school, before we even made it half way home, she started complaining that she hates school and doesn't ever want to go back. I think her face says something completely different, don't you?

~~Amber is Rockin' Softball~~

See that shy girl hiding behind her mitt?? Yeah, that's the one. The one who wanted to play softball so bad, but was so scared that she might play bad that she actually put it off a whole year.



Well guess what??? She totally rocks the game!!

She can hit like no other- 2 home runs in the first 4 games!!


She can outrun the ball to the base every time!!


She got a ton of outs playing second base.


She is awesome at shortstop!


She hits!!!


She runs!!

She Scores!!!!!
Way to go sweetie, we are so proud of you!!!

~~15 Year Old Mothers and Your Advise~~

I know at times I was awful to my mother. She used to tell me about it all the time when she was helping me pack for a guilt trip. I even got the everlasting, dreaded mother curse. You know the one: "You just wait until you have kids.” My response? "I'm never having kids.”

And I seriously didn't want any at that time. I had way to many brothers and sisters that I helped take care of and there was nothing I wanted less than my own kids. At that point in time I would have rather got on one of the bulls my crazy ass brothers rode than to even consider having a baby. Actually I did do that once, but that is another story.

But I digress.

I wanted to travel, have fun, go to school, be a millionaire and make that money doing something I loved. It was not to be. I was 15 working fast food, going to high school and trying my best not to cause too much damage to the fragile little mind of a newborn and then very active toddler.

"I'm NEVER having kids!!" Boy, did I eat those words the day I walked out of the hospital, a 15 year old mother and not a clue as to what the hell I was going to do. I couldn't get a drivers license, I couldn't vote, drink a beer legally or own a gun. I was not old enough to rent an apartment to live in or work without parental permission. But I was 100% responsible for another little life and apparently they don't ID you at the hospital to see if you are "of age" to be leaving with that little bundle of squirming, pooping and crying sweetness. What the fu#k had I done???

I never did really have "the talk" with my mom. I'm not blaming her and I think she probably felt that all my sisters would fill me in. That and I really didn't get interested in boys as early as a lot of my friends so maybe she thought I was safe. Who knows. The one thing I do know is that as soon as my girls could understand it all we started having the talks. I say talks because it was a constant thing not just a one timer. I wanted them to be sure they knew what would happen if they were fooling around instead of learning it from their friends or whoever else it may come from. I wanted my daughters to be strong and sure of themselves and their sexuality. I wanted them to know what would happen after some stupid boy told them he loved them and got into their pants before they were really ready.

I was criticized several times for being open and honest with them, but I didn't care for the alternative so I took the criticism and shook it off. It's not like I was showing them porn or given them condoms at age 10, I just wanted them to know the consequences at age 10 so at age 16 when they thought they were ready they would think again.
Something must have worked because they both finished school, got married and had good jobs before they started having babies. They were not labeled as the school sluts or easy girls because they were strong enough to say no and mean it. It did not restrict their dating in any way because they had a ton of dates and friends in high school. They didn't fall for the first guy to tell them he loved them and that they would "do it" if they loved him back. No, they laughed in the faces of those boys and you know what? They were respected and had so many friends that were boys as well as girls. They were not in any way prude, they just knew what they wanted in life and a quick roll in the hay wasn't worth what the consequences could be. Know what else? More than once when they were hanging out at our house I heard one boy or another say it was cool to be just friends with a girl with no expectations of it going further. I am not in any way saying they were perfect. My head is not in the sand and I know they experimented some, but they were smart, are smart, and know how to conduct themselves in an appropriate manner.

There are so many young mothers in the news who have hurt or killed their child or let their boyfriend or baby daddy hurt them and stand by doing nothing as to not make them mad and possibly have them leave her. Seriously?? What man (or boy) is worth having if he is harming your child? I guess I am generalizing too much because I know a lot of young mothers are very good mothers and I like to think I was, but the statistics don't lie and you can pick up any paper in any city on any day and find something about a child being hurt or killed.
I can understand frustration at a crying newborn, I cannot understand hurting one. And most of all, I don't want my little girls to ever be put in the situation that they may be too young to rationally deal with a crying baby.

So now I am at that same cross road with my two little girls. They are 5 and 7 or if you ask them "almost 6 and 7 1/2". When we adopted them they already knew more about life than two little girls should ever know and sometimes we have anger issues with the older one. I can totally see her acting out when she is a little older and rebelling against anything we say so do I educate her now preparing for that or just hope it doesn't happen that way? There is so much more sex on TV than there used to be and I wonder if I should talk about things now with them. It seems to be glamorized when a teenager has a baby on some of the stupid little shows they watch. I don't want to intrude on their innocence, but I don't want either of them to be a 15 year old mother. So what do you think internet? Are they too young? Should I let it go a few more years? Should I start now and just not be real specific? I want them to be little girls as long as they can and not grow up too fast, but I want them to be safe and prepared for life in this crazy world. So what is your opinion??? I need your advise.

~~The Irony~~

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Goodness we have a lot to look forward to don't we?!?!?

~~LOLCATS~~

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~~Motherhood vs Prison~~

This came from Amy Oops except the part I added at the end so go on over and get a good laugh from her today!!

In prison, you get three square meals a day.
At home, you cook three square meals a day and try to get your kids to eat it. You eat their leftovers.

In prison, you get an hour each day in the yard to exercise and mingle.
At home you get to clean the yard up so you can mow it so your kids can spread more toys all over it so that you can go out and clean it again because little Jr. can't sleep without his latest lego creation.

In prison, you get to watch TV, cable even.
At home, you get to listen to your children fight over the remote control and get treated to hours and hours of mindless cartoons thanks to cable.

In prison, you can read whatever you want and attend college for free.
At home, you get to read weekly readers starring Dick, Jane, and Spot and worry about how to send Jr. to college and still be able to eat for the next twenty years.

In prison, all your medical care is free.
At home, you have to pawn your mother's silver and fill out trillions of papers for insurance and hope the doctor will see you before you die.

In prison, if you have visitors, all you do is go to a room, sit, talk and then say good-bye when you are ready or your time is up.
At home, you get to clean for days in advance and then cook and clean up after your guests and hope that they will one day leave.

In prison, you can spend your free time writing letters or just hang out in your own space all day.
At home, you get to clean your space and everyone else's space, too, and what the heck is free time again?

In prison, you get your own personal toilet.
At home, you have to physically hold the bathroom door shut in order to keep from having someone standing over you demanding to know how long till you're done so you can do something for them.

In prison, the prison laundry takes care of all your dirty clothes.
At home, you get to take care of them yourself, plus everybody else's, and get yelled at because somebody's favorite shirt isn't clean.

In prison, they take you everywhere you need to go.
At home, you take everybody else where they need to go.

In prison, the guards transport all your personal effects for you and make sure nothing is missing.
At home, you have to lug around everybody else's stuff in your purse and then wonder who went in it and took your last dollar.

In prison, there are no screaming or whining children or spouses asking you to do something else for them, or screaming at you because you didn't. Doesn’t that make you want to go out and do something illegal

BUT... at home you get grubby little fingers that love to hold your hand, chubby little arms that give you the best hugs, little faces that can smile and light up your life and sticky little faces that give the sweetest kisses. All in all I think I would always choose home no matter how good it would feel to have the vacation of prison for a couple days!!

~~To Mom In Heaven~~

IF ROSES GROW IN HEAVEN,LORD PLEASE PICK A BUNCH FOR ME, PLACE THEM IN MY MOTHER'S ARMS AND TELL HER THEY'RE FROM ME.
TELL HER I LOVE HER AND MISS HER,AND WHEN SHE TURNS TO SMILE, PLACE A KISS UPON HER CHEEK AND HOLD HER FOR AWHILE.
BECAUSE REMEMBERING HER IS EASY,I DO IT EVERY DAY BUT THERE'S AN ACHE WITHIN MY HEART THAT WILL NEVER GO A WAY.
I MISS AND LOVE YOU, MOM XXX...HAPPY MOTHERS DAY TO YOU IN HEAVEN

~~One Year~~

Today it has been one year since my mom died. The year has been long without her. The year has also flown by and it doesn't seem like she has been gone that long. I still find myself thinking of things that are funny or interesting and thinking to myself "I will have to tell mom about that when I get home". It hurts when I remember she wont be here to tell. I miss her. I miss my daddy. I miss my grandbabies. I know they are all together and as much as I miss them and want to be with them, I don't think I am ready to go yet. It has been one hell of a year and one I wouldn't want to do again for anything. This past year has really sucked!! Here's to hoping the next year will have some better times and memories that come with it.

~~The Stuttering Cat~~

Got this in my email today and just had to share.

A teacher is explaining biology to her 4th grade students. "Human beings
are the only animals that stutter," she said.
A little girl raises her hand. "I had a kitty-cat who stuttered."
The teacher, knowing how precious some of these stories could become,
asked the girl to describe the incident.
"Well," she began, "I was in the back yard with my kitty and the
Rottweiler that lives next door got a running start and before we knew
it, he jumped over the fence into our yard!"
"That must've been scary," said the teacher.
"It sure was," said the little girl. "My kitty raised her back, went
"Ffffff!, Ffffff!, FfffffF, but before she could say "Fuck!," the
Rottweiler ate her!
The teacher had to leave the room.

~~The Great Food Debate~~

Since I quit cooking about 5 years ago I have left the whats and wheres of all that happens in the kitchen to my husband. He likes to cook and since he likes it, so be it, he now owns the kitchen and all that happens there.
With one exception- I refuse to eat any "weird" meat. By weird meat I mean if it doesn't come wrapped in plastic, full of preservatives I want nothing to do with it.
We live in a part of the country where the deer hunt may as well be a holiday because nobody will be in school because they are all with their parents on "the hunt". There is also an unbelievable number of people who also hunt elk, duck, geese, wild turkey, bear, moose, dove, well you get the picture, if it runs it shall be hunted. All of these things I consider weird meat.
He has tried, a time or well say 200, to trick me into eating these nasty things. He says if I don't know what it is I would never be able to tell it isn't from the store. Guess what? He is wrong. I swear it smells and looks different and he can talk until he is blue in the face but he wont get me to change my mind.
He also has a friend that has decided to use turkey burger in everything and has convinced He-Man to use it too. I have boycotted that issue every time it is brought up. Even though turkey comes from the store it is still weird when it doesn't come out of the oven all golden brown and ready to be carved up.
So this past week he thought he could trick me and he bought turkey burger to make spaghetti sauce with. He went to the store by himself (another thing I despise)got all of his sneaky ingredients and came home to make dinner.
I could smell it cooking and of course it didn't smell right. He swore up and down I was crazy and he was cooking hamburger. He brought me a plate of food (I know sweet huh?!?)and again swore that he didn't know why it looked different to me because IT. WAS. HAMBURGER. (I beg to differ)
So he went up and got his plate and came down in the family room with me. I was picking through the food and taking out the spaghetti noodles only. He made some huffing and puffing noise to show he was displeased with my pickiness and began to eat. About a minute later I noticed he wasn't eating and I looked at him with what I assume was a question on my face because before I had a chance to say anything he blurted out that turkey burger does taste different and it was gross. You should all be proud, I didn't even say I told you so. Wanted to, but didn't.
What do you think, does store meat and game meat taste different??