You must have been a beautiful baby...

It was almost 27 years ago that I decided to grace the world with my presence.  :)

My grandma has told me stories of when I would hang out with her for the day at her Hallmark store.  "People would come in just to see you!" she would say. 

I do tend to have that affect on people.

Another story I have heard, is that once upon a time my parents sent my picture to Gerber.  They had hopes and dreams that I could become the next face of Gerber.  It didn't happen, but Gerber did send a letter saying that I was very cute, and beautiful, and glamorous...blah, blah, blah.  I'm sure it wasn't a form letter they sent to everyone. *cough*

Ok enough about me.  Check out this cutie!

She takes after her aunt.  Uhem.

To carry on the tradition her mom and dad (I might have suggested they do it) entered her in the Gerber Generation contest.  And she needs your votes!

Seriously, how beautiful is she!  Here is something super cute....this is the bedtime tradition....

Cracks.me.up!!!!  Sorry, you will now have the "Time to put the baby to bed" song stuck in your head for a very very long time.  Who knew that was the secret to putting kids to bed.  I think my favorite part is when she gets mad that the gate is there to block her way.  Lol.

Now that you are in love with her, vote, vote vote!  You can vote once a day until September 24th on Gerber's Facebook.  You have to like their page and then you are good to go.  

P.S. Look what other picture I found!

It was Christmas 1986, when I got Teddy Ruxpin. 

Why I don't like bridges....

I can't remember how this story came up the other day, but when it did I knew it needed to be shared with y'all.  

Once upon a time when I was... I don't know... maybe 8 and my sister was 6.  We were walking in a parade of sorts through downtown.  My dad being the kind, loving and ornery dad that he was/is decided to tell me about the lady that had fallen through a bridge.  

Yes, through.  

The real life story had something to do with a drawbridge, but he didn't tell me that part.  He just said to be careful because the bridge that was in our parade route was partially grated.   So naturally I am freaking out.  

And I mean Freaking. Out.  

But I'm the big sister so, I'm trying to act as cool as possible to save face.  As we make our way closer and closer to the bridge I couldn't believe the adults weren't worried about this at all and were going to let us just walk across the bridge of death.  

Finally the moment of truth....

Oh no.  

The grated part.  

I grab my sister's hand and I tell her to be very careful to not step through the holes.  Wait a second.... our feet are bigger than the holes, and there's no way our whole body will fit through there to fall in that water.  Huh.  But dad wouldn't make something like that up, so it must still be dangerous.  Yep. Definitely dangerous.  I'm pretty sure I prayed the whole way across.  After what seemed like forever we made it across the bridge.  We lived!!  Phew!  

I'm pretty sure this is why I'm afraid of heights and bridges.  

I love my dad.

First my shovel and now my umbrella

Today you get to hear a sad, sad story from my youth.  I remember like it was yesterday, picture it, I was  8 years old and just had an amazing day at a friend's birthday party.  So much fun, and I even was going home with  prize.  A beautiful bucket and shovel to play with in the sand.  It was perfect.  I loved my shovel and bucket.  My dad came with my younger sister (who's a mom now, just in case you missed that) to pick me up.

If there was dramatic music to let you know something bad was about to happen, it would be playing right now.

There we were driving home, the windows down, the sun shining.  My sister wanted to see my shovel.  And by see I mean play with and adore.  Of course I didn't want to part with my shovel, but being a good sister I gave it to her.  She has always been the curious type, that day was no different.  She got the brilliant idea to stick the shovel out the window and let the wind push it.  NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!  You guessed it.  The shovel flew out of her hands and out onto the street.  I start crying and frantically telling my dad to turn around because my shovel was out there.  He didn't understand what in the world I was trying to tell him through my tears.  So that day I ended up with a bucket with no shovel.  I was traumatized. 

My family has had to hear the retelling of this story so many times.

So many times that they have bought me

 many a shovel and bucket to replace the ones from that fateful day. 

The other day is was rainy and windy and gross. My sister was leaving the house with a basket of laundry and me being a nice sister said,
"Hey, I got a new free umbrella. I will protect you and your clean laundry from the wind and rain."
"No" she replies "I'll be fine."
"I insist. It is huge and will cover us both."

Out into the elements we go.  Open the umbrella take two steps outside and whoosh!  Inside out it goes. "Noooooo!" I bust out laughing.  We get back inside and I put on my best sad face and show my parents my poor sad umbrella.

"Oh no" my dad says, "this isn't going to be like the shovel is it?" 

Well....