Happy Birthday, Baby Boy!!!

Out of my 3 fabulous children, Michael is the only one with big brown eyes and olive skin - like his mama. :) He was my most clingy child and I loved it. He was so lovable and the most loving little boy you can imagine. He's still that way, but now that he's a man it's a little awkward getting too kissy-kissy with him. Besides, he doesn't fit on my lap anymore.

Seems like it wasn't so long ago that my baby was...well... just a baby. His main interests were his mommy, his thumb, and his blankie. How do the years disappear so quickly? Sometimes I get all "George Banks" while Michael is talking to me, imaging that he's sucking his thumb with his blankie shoved under his nose. It's my most favorite memory of him.

Happy 26th birthday! *sigh*

Izzy to the Rescue!

No, not my Izzy. This Australian Shepherd from Cambridge, MN is a prime example of how a rescued dog can end up rescuing you.

Quote

How far you go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant of the weak and strong. Because someday in your life you will have been all of these.

~George Washington Carver (January 1864 – January 5, 1943)

On his grave was written, He could have added fortune to fame, but caring for neither, he found happiness and honor in being helpful to the world.

Riceworks

Gourmet Brown Rice Crisps. Try them. You will not regret it. Unless you're like me and have a weakness for crunchy food, then you will be unable to keep your hand out of the bag.

According to the web site, these wonderful crisps are wheat and gluten free, all natural, and contain no preservatives. There is no trans fat, no cholesterol, 33% less fat than potato chips, vegan and celiac friendly, and kosher certified.

Something this healthy shouldn't taste this good.

Although they look like Doritos, they have distinguished themselves by using the term "crisp". The word crisps sounds so much more sophisticated then chips. The powers that be made a pretty smart move there, although they are positioned on the same aisle with the lowly potato chip.

My only complaint is the high price and small size of the bag. So far, these two negatives are actually a positive since it's keeping me from becoming a full-blown crisp-aholic.

The Sweet Chili flavor is completely intoxicating. Proceed with caution. You have been warned.

Reflecting

As a child, I felt extremely isolated and unloved. I have always admired families that interacted in a loving way and yearned for a family like that. Growing up, I was drawn to TV shows like The Waltons and The Brady Bunch. I would lose myself in books, especially the Laura Ingalls Wilder series. I would have traded modern city living for life on the prairie with Laura and her family in a heartbeat.

I wish I could have had the tools to create that healthy family environment in my real life. But I tried to rush things and have babies too soon. Though I love them all to death, I was ill prepared to deal with the demands. I'll always regret so much about that.

Last week I took on the gargantuan task of scanning my entire photo collection - you know, the ones before the days of digital. There are albums and boxes galore! What good are they doing locked away in a dark closet? Well, I've reacquainted myself with the collection, which has got me all melancholy and reflective this week.

I used to think that my mother was cold and unloving, but looking at our vacation photos made me realize that I must be remembering wrong. Every summer we went somewhere pretty cool with my grandparents and my aunt (my mother's kid sister). I know it must have taken a lot of saving and discipline for a single mother on a tight budget.

Look, my mother is actually holding me close to her side on our trip to Colorado.Although my mother was (is) afraid of germs, I was allowed to pet the goats.

Here are the huge birthday parties my mother would throw for me every year. I would vomit from nervousness before each one. I still get intensely nervous before parties. :/



My mother documented my first day of school at Glen Oaks Elementary in Baton Rouge. There are more, but I don't want to bore you with them. My first grade teacher, Mrs. Milton, was so kind. She knew I had just lost a sister, causing me to start school late, and was especially compassionate.



My mother, industrious soul that she was, always sewed our Christmas and Easter outfits.


So my question is: do photos lie or do memories lie? It might be a bit of both.