tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21737681781443456072024-03-06T02:09:00.504-06:00Things We Don't Say (Because Mommies Are Nice)(previously "Hello. My Name Is Mommy")Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-20148078230514961302011-05-27T06:18:00.002-05:002011-05-27T06:22:32.709-05:00New life, New bloghey kiddos....So a lot has changed and I felt it was time to start blogging again, but time to start fresh and new with it. If you care to keep up with my ramblings, please come see me at "Life In MY Lane". Click on the title of this post and it will tak you right to it! See ya there (hopefully!)Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-21817658993857380462010-07-21T19:40:00.003-05:002010-07-21T20:15:41.408-05:00Things I'm Not Ashamed OfAs if you care, but in case you do, now you know that I am not ashamed of.....<br /><br />1. Having partied myself out of college the first time. I enjoyed the mess out of my 20's, and learned a ton about life. Like - a glass of water, 2 Advil and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is the best way to ward off a hangover. Poison Control told me that. Why was I talking to poison control? I was in my 20's. It was a girl's night. Put two and two together and I'm sure you will figure it out.<br /><br />2. Keeping my head in the books the SECOND time around. I graduated with honors. Of course the day after I graduated I couldn't figure out how to get the paper towel roll on the holder....but hey...I graduated...WITH HONORS.<br /><br />3. Being 32 and having the most bizarre phobias known to man. Let's see...there's the Easter Bunny, cruise ships, and anyone dressed up in a costume where you can't see their face. If you've ever been to a college football game with me, or to the mall during the holidays, you have been privy to the spectacle I become. If you have not witnessed it.....oh boy...it's something to write home about, that's for sure. I will just tell you this, it involves hyperventilating, raging panic, possibly some pants peeing, tears, and maybe a scream or two. I kid you not. It's epic.<br /><br />4. Putting my daughter first in all that I do. Even though it meant making the tough decision to become a single mom, some things are just necessary. It's tough, but ummm...wasn't Wonder Woman a single mom? Isn't that how she got her name? If she wasn't, she is now.<br /><br />5. Acting a complete ASS at the risk of others pointing and laughing. I could care less what that 21 year old Lady Gaga wannabe thinks of me as I robot dance to the beat. Or challenge the cutest boy in the club to an old skool dance off. I will roger rabbit all OVER that ass, and dare her to say somethin'..Life is much too short to be so serious all the time...hell, to be so serious even 50% of the time...sometimes (and some people) just need to loosen up...do the hustle in Target...up and down the aisles...and then running man through the check out...it's really fun!<br /><br />6. Telling other people's kids that are acting a hot mess in restaurants that Santa Claus is watching them through the sprinkler system. I have never seen kids sit down, shut up and act right so fast in my life! Everyone should get to enjoy a nice meal out with out having someone else's kids french fries landing on THEIR plate. I'm just doing my part.<br /><br />7. And lastly, I'm not ashamed to currently be using your (and MY) tax dollars to take care of my daughter. After a series of INCREDIBLY unfortunate events I lost my job last month. This has forced me to apply for food stamps, apply for SSI for my daughter, continue to utilize my WIC benefits, and collect the little unemployment I get. Yes, this college educated (with HONORS, DAMMIT)woman is currently out of work, having a bit of trouble finding NEW work, and is doing her damndest to make ends meet. I don't eat out. I don't drive unnecessarily. And I don't get my nails or hair done with the little money I do have. I clip coupons to make my foodstamps last. I try to do the driving I NEED to do either early in the morning or after the sun has gone down to conserve. I am doing EVERYTHING I CAN to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. And thanks be to God that I have not been late on a utility bill or my mortgage since I lost my job....going on two months now. <br /><br />I recently heard it said that a mom may not do what she WANTS to do, but she will always do what she HAS to do. Well, I guess that's where I'm at then...doing what I HAVE to do. And I'm not the least bit ashamed.<br /><br />Now, has anyone seen my cape?Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-33389139888177127652010-07-21T19:40:00.002-05:002010-07-21T20:14:30.545-05:00Things I'm Not Ashamed OfAs if you care, but in case you do, now you know that I am not ashamed of.....<br /><br />1. Having partied myself out of college the first time. I enjoyed the mess out of my 20's, and learned a ton about life. Like - a glass of water, 2 Advil and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is the best way to ward off a hangover. Poison Control told me that. Why was I talking to poison control? I was in my 20's. It was a girl's night. Put two and two together and I'm sure you will figure it out.<br /><br />2. Keeping my head in the books the SECOND time around. I graduated with honors. Of course the day after I graduated I couldn't figure out how to get the paper towel roll on the holder....but hey...I graduated...WITH HONORS.<br /><br />3. Being 32 and having the most bizarre phobias known to man. Let's see...there's the Easter Bunny, cruise ships, and anyone dressed up in a costume where you can't see their face. If you've ever been to a college football game with me, or to the mall during the holidays, you have been privy to the spectacle I become. If you have not witnessed it.....oh boy...it's something to write home about, that's for sure. I will just tell you this, it involves hyperventilating, raging panic, possibly some pants peeing, tears, and maybe a scream or two. I kid you not. It's epic.<br /><br />4. Putting my daughter first in all that I do. Even though it meant making the tough decision to become a single mom, some things are just necessary. It's tough, but ummm...wasn't Wonder Woman a single mom? Isn't that how she got her name? If she wasn't, she is now.<br /><br />5. Acting a complete ASS at the risk of others pointing and laughing. I could care less what that 21 year old Lady Gaga wannabe thinks of me as I robot dance to the beat. Or challenge the cutest boy in the club to an old skool dance off. I will roger rabbit all OVER that ass, and dare her to say somethin'..Life is much too short to be so serious all the time...hell, to be so serious even 50% of the time...sometimes (and some people) just need to loosen up...do the hustle in Target...up and down the aisles...and then running man through the check out...it's really fun!<br /><br />6. Telling other people's kids that are acting a hot mess in restaurants that Santa Claus is watching them through the sprinkler system. I have never seen kids sit down, shut up and act right so fast in my life! Everyone should get to enjoy a nice meal out with out having someone else's kids french fries landing on THEIR plate. I'm just doing my part.<br /><br />7. And lastly, I'm not ashamed to currently be using your (and MY) tax dollars to take care of my daughter. After a series of INCREDIBLY unfortunate events I lost my job last month. This has forced me to apply for food stamps, apply for SSI for my daughter, continue to utilize my WIC benefits, and collect the little unemployment I get. Yes, this college educated (with HONORS, DAMMIT)woman is currently out of work, having a bit of trouble finding NEW work, and is doing her damndest to make ends meet. I don't eat out. I don't drive unnecessarily. And I don't get my nails or hair done with the little money I do have. I clip coupons to make my foodstamps last. I try to do the driving I NEED to do either early in the morning or after the sun has gone down to conserve. I am doing EVERYTHING I CAN to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. And thanks be to God that I have not been late on a utility bill or my mortgage since I lost my job....going on two months now. <br /><br />I recently heard it said that a mom may not do what she WANTS to do, but she will always do what she HAS to do. Well, I guess that's where I'm at then...doing what I HAVE to do. And I'm not the least bit ashamed.<br /><br />Now, has anyone seen my cape?Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-73601409712216630402010-07-19T08:16:00.002-05:002010-07-19T09:29:15.085-05:00Mommy's Lemonade StandHello everyone. My name is Mommy. And I'm single.<br /><br />Hi Mooooommmmmyyyyyyy.<br /><br />That's what I imagined in my head when faced with the reality of being a newly single mom. But of course, me and anonymous don't exactly go hand in hand. In case you haven't heard, I'm kind of a BIG DEAL! Yes, I did think about going out and buying a fake wedding ring so I wouldn't have to endure the stares (or perceived stares) at my lefthandringfinger, then inevitably lead to a glance at my child, and then back to me. But why?? Why would I PRETEND that I have a man holdin' it down for me, when I am holdin' it down pretty damn tight?? Not to say that men are not necessary beings (kinda can't have kids without them...and they fix things), or even WANTED beings (if you have ever seen Dwayne Johnson without a shirt on then you know just what I'm talkin' about), but for ME....RIGHT NOW....AT THIS POINT IN MY LIFE...a man just isn't an option...and to be quite honest....I'm selfish....I want allllll the credit on this one....buahahahahaaaaaa<br /><br />Okay, so yeah...I toot my own horn sometimes but right now, I kind of have to! Life has handed me a big giant sack of lemons. I mean seriously - I could probably make lemon meringue pies every day for the rest of my life for every country on the planet with this one....and if I were a certain kind of person, I could complain about it all day long. But I have learned that when life hands you lemons, you don't just stand there staring at them, because at the end of the day they're still just lemons. They won't bump their lemon knuckles together like the Wondertwins and activate themselves into a martini. Or click their lemon heels together and turn into an amazing lemon yellow Prada purse with matching heels and an amazing LBD to boot. Nope. They will just sit there, being just what they are - sour lemons. You gotta peel them, zest them, slice them, wedge them, and squeeze the HELL out of those damn lemons. Then and ONLY THEN will you get something truly amazing out of the sour batch life has given you.<br /><br />So....in the name of the sourest batch I have ever gotten, I'm off to make lemon bars. And perhaps after I put the munchkin down tonight I'll have a lemon drop martini.<br /><br /><br />All I'm sayin' is this....don't expect to see a pucker face on this mommy...my life's comin' up pine sol lemon-y fresh - even if I get lemon juice in my eye ('cuz you know...that stings and all).....Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-46916134371911064632010-01-25T20:58:00.002-06:002010-01-25T21:01:34.191-06:00Nothing To Sayi am still here but life is attempting to swallow me....do yourselves a favor people....take care of your health...and nag the hell out of your spouses until they do the same....<br /><br />knowledge of life's timestamp is shitty knowledge...Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-31994888531500675732009-12-20T23:34:00.008-06:002009-12-21T00:13:29.728-06:00These are a few of my favorite things.......(tap tap tap)<br /><br />hello?? is this thing on???<br /><br />YEAAAAAAHHHHHHH BITCHEEEEEESSSSSSSS!!!! I'M BACK! AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO YA!!!<br /><br />Yeah yeah I know....I've been out for a hot minute - but truthfully, my life has been turned upside down and inside out since oh, I don't know...OCTOBER!!!<br /><br />But it seems as though things are slowly begninning to turn around for the positive....and so in keeping on this positive note, I am going to share with you some of my absolute favorite Christmas ornaments. My munchkin is waaaaayyyy too young to have made me one yet (although I suppose we <span style="font-style:italic;">could</span> bronze and hang one of her poopy diapers - however, that is...ummmmm....what's the term I'm lookin for??? oh yeah.....NASTY ASS!!!!<br /><br />So with that being said, all of my ornaments are store bought...but they are sweet, sentimental, and super special to me....hope you enjoy....<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrw1tF7vsVLVDDsGl_KVuaUxhHzwygMMV4I8FETrH6JHbv57-zqHnYWJbunkv80F5UKPNBFeexXoDKKSrC7m4SYZDP1W1CVt4YnjJkIgqkd8wjUNr1bl9Y3QTQ9C02PRI0u8KGlPnmX50/s1600-h/017.JPG"><img style="float:center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrw1tF7vsVLVDDsGl_KVuaUxhHzwygMMV4I8FETrH6JHbv57-zqHnYWJbunkv80F5UKPNBFeexXoDKKSrC7m4SYZDP1W1CVt4YnjJkIgqkd8wjUNr1bl9Y3QTQ9C02PRI0u8KGlPnmX50/s320/017.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417562024730570610" /></a> for Grandmother...she fought to the very end...love you always<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX8FmDTsfWKsJNOmzUeR1gAM4WVy63w-ZlUTNStLEZTCQ1zqLBx6nLCc0rsSh51Rceb5umho2zzSBHoApJOB-d0pF-UG0Hqn-4qh0PCEfCott-BTKkGAymTCpndtM4c5i80vTqxsecxag/s1600-h/018.JPG"><img style="float:center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX8FmDTsfWKsJNOmzUeR1gAM4WVy63w-ZlUTNStLEZTCQ1zqLBx6nLCc0rsSh51Rceb5umho2zzSBHoApJOB-d0pF-UG0Hqn-4qh0PCEfCott-BTKkGAymTCpndtM4c5i80vTqxsecxag/s320/018.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417562699080194594" /></a><br />3 weeks ago today 8 asked me to marry him....since I'd already bought the ornament I thought it a good idea to say yes...hahaha...just kidding....I bought the ornament the NEXT day....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirBh7boGges4Q_IG0hBU9ByJhyphenhyphenSr-A4oPM_2VnB3CkvadKeE9SPtGvp5YsksbtgVh5P0Ek55BHExWDMOmF6_id8EE3q_1sIO3QIq_FiLVWhn_EqpDlVuofdheDxq9UcrNq3_yUE-OKokI/s1600-h/021.JPG"><img style="float:center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirBh7boGges4Q_IG0hBU9ByJhyphenhyphenSr-A4oPM_2VnB3CkvadKeE9SPtGvp5YsksbtgVh5P0Ek55BHExWDMOmF6_id8EE3q_1sIO3QIq_FiLVWhn_EqpDlVuofdheDxq9UcrNq3_yUE-OKokI/s320/021.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417563800794554898" /></a> ahhh...yeah so we did things backwards....who cares...have you SEEN my munchkin..I'll do things backwards over and over again if I was guaranteed that kind of love every time...THIS is one of my favorite ornaments!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEZ7z5ycy6F5_QsmgTI-quW9nxaEczWxRYbuejw0mFbtqEAo4NKcPNX1OODNwjKaKiDU0W0a4wfb3-mLNR7O7FaOsE_A2pVfWyeUKK_-yTVO9W6-KmoJ22JSNHbIMSnoOt2wXY5wruf24/s1600-h/023.JPG"><img style="float:center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEZ7z5ycy6F5_QsmgTI-quW9nxaEczWxRYbuejw0mFbtqEAo4NKcPNX1OODNwjKaKiDU0W0a4wfb3-mLNR7O7FaOsE_A2pVfWyeUKK_-yTVO9W6-KmoJ22JSNHbIMSnoOt2wXY5wruf24/s320/023.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417564772707269522" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBziCbZLJcnzInfwhwlV9vz2GWjy5ztpYcgYhOe1l-j8UQO0g07XwXLLqbOlZBzzpaC5OO676rmpT2l_GvmC1sRM5mTHVElNgjQ_6jTGG_cPc5vQQSrV_4o3ZFBy-zRjJ1WBKJRT_XUV4/s1600-h/026.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBziCbZLJcnzInfwhwlV9vz2GWjy5ztpYcgYhOe1l-j8UQO0g07XwXLLqbOlZBzzpaC5OO676rmpT2l_GvmC1sRM5mTHVElNgjQ_6jTGG_cPc5vQQSrV_4o3ZFBy-zRjJ1WBKJRT_XUV4/s320/026.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417565389739807682" /></a> ummmm HE-LLO!!! HOW COULD I NOT????<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmlBQgF9wYxDewnve3folb7kn9AgB3TQ3VkNU_w1mgqaG1Og2-BB3qP_Bxolm8sLTJm2_68sQBNyPtqa_CAy22ToLr5PJzQsVjw9EBu5t8V8HN7zH0TljQuTXQRMqeDm7FOppwUs8N4BM/s1600-h/032.JPG"><img style="float:center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmlBQgF9wYxDewnve3folb7kn9AgB3TQ3VkNU_w1mgqaG1Og2-BB3qP_Bxolm8sLTJm2_68sQBNyPtqa_CAy22ToLr5PJzQsVjw9EBu5t8V8HN7zH0TljQuTXQRMqeDm7FOppwUs8N4BM/s320/032.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417566375386893234" /></a> this is a pic of one of my dearest, and most adored friends....because we are actually cute in this pic, I know we weren't drunk yet....but we WERE pre-partying....ahhhh...the good old days....now pre-partying = licking the beaters clean of cupcake mix for a kids birthday party....<br /><br />So there ya have it lovelies...oh and did I mention I JUST put the tree up today....and I have done NO Christmas shopping whatsoever.....hahahahahaha<br /><br />hahahahahahhahahahaaaaaaa<br /><br />hahahaha<br /><br />WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-74624347496172458102009-11-07T17:54:00.004-06:002009-11-07T18:01:04.795-06:00hack hack hack....clean air bewarei'm almost done dying folks...should be back tomorrow - for reals.....in the meantime check out supah's face on "Love My Glog" (previous post).....it looks like a vision of mrs. potato head on a bad acid trip...lo(hack hack hack) l.....miss you guys....love you more....<br /><br />but don't breathe my air..u don't want none o'this.....<br /><br />OH AND BEFORE I FORGET.....<br /><br />please go and show my very best real life friend michelle rooney some serious bloggy love....she is following her passsion for photography and is seriously talented with kiddies......love love LOVE ON HER....<br /><br />if u don't i'll breathe on you, spit in your tea and lick every spoon u own.....just kidding....or am i?<br /><a href="http://michellerooneyphotography.blogspot.com"><br />http://michellerooneyphotography.blogspot.com</a>Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-84971690619906053382009-11-06T11:42:00.002-06:002009-11-06T11:52:35.157-06:00Love My Glog<div class="MsoNormal"> Dear Friends of My Name is Mommy : </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> ( I can fucking hear my husband peeing upstairs right now.. that is so damn gross. ) </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> That’s just a perrrrrfect fucking way to start off my GUEST BLOGGER POST a.k.a. Glogger post for my friend whose name is Mommy. Just about as perfect as droppin the F bomb 2x in one post intro. </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> This is MY ONE CHANCE at fame… and I’ve already been done gone and fucked it the hell mess up. </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> Shit.. 3times. </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> So : for those of you who need an intro to the enigma that is SupahMommy… here I am. In all my glory. I am a mommy of 2 wait.. shit.. 3.. I actually just typed 2! SOMEONE slap me! I’m My Name Is Mommy’s ( MNIM) favorite ever ever ever blog land friend. </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> ( I can type whatever the hell I want… cause she's not here!) MNIM has crawled off o' her death bed to send me a smoke signal… </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> GLOG </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> 4 </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> ME </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> SUPAH </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> headed </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> TOWARDS </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> the </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> LIGHT </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> must </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> post </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> SOMETHING </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> It was an awful lot of smoke. I told her she couldn’ve just fucking emailed.( 4x) . it would’ve been easier.. but hey. She’s a drama queen. So I put on my supah cape, stopped what I was doing ( feeding my baby) and rushed over here to serve you all with my stupidness. </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> You see folks: she is swimming in bronchitis or some drama llama shit like that. I think she gots the swine. I hope you all wore your facemasks and hazmats for your stop over here. I’m not sure if she lysoled this shit down. * insert not so sure face </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> I’m safe though.. you see.. </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> I been done got the swine. </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> So I’ll do the typing for her. Since she’s hacking up lungs and stuff it’s the least I could do. </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> I figured I’d come on over and mess her place up… take some silly pictures with her camera and post them for you to laugh at until her return. So wish her well. Don’t breath any of her air germs and enjoy the pics AND the GLOG POST <span style="font-family:Wingdings;">J</span> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> <span style="font-family:Wingdings;"> </span> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> <span style="font-family:Wingdings;"> </span> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> Xoxo </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> supah </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> Here are some pics courtesy of my mac Photobooth. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitAIA-CPSGkWNDnkvn4nL93FScg_yH9AlzBttsX2iKC31LQG64_Y_j3nDi1HEm3JWgxzzlwshe2zjT_YoOx4yx8XnGAQg2p74M3jVD86oS-4FcPibOUjUFS3llh5PysDdzUV5B00PQbmEu/s1600-h/Photo+349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitAIA-CPSGkWNDnkvn4nL93FScg_yH9AlzBttsX2iKC31LQG64_Y_j3nDi1HEm3JWgxzzlwshe2zjT_YoOx4yx8XnGAQg2p74M3jVD86oS-4FcPibOUjUFS3llh5PysDdzUV5B00PQbmEu/s320/Photo+349.jpg" width="320" border="0" height="240" /></a> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIrBxLmose-JWwg2HuSpAp9j39fvjKKBr1U5KiRx1BqEZPkb1SU4idAvivp0sMLNKxcrZ5DIcJvHP9bOHkoq7xh6L0HvQYde8ACt4lbHsSCuRMHbAuG90JZGy9bcscIf4pa5OkCZTyzSAD/s1600-h/Photo+361.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIrBxLmose-JWwg2HuSpAp9j39fvjKKBr1U5KiRx1BqEZPkb1SU4idAvivp0sMLNKxcrZ5DIcJvHP9bOHkoq7xh6L0HvQYde8ACt4lbHsSCuRMHbAuG90JZGy9bcscIf4pa5OkCZTyzSAD/s320/Photo+361.jpg" width="320" border="0" height="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtjKxDyCkf9f_yO9N602U427v9Pf7q2Jd8YFrycksz_eERzQEcNf3vuXl3RhWDsvrAuRsUxAHcxwPwZSI2MPeqit9AurSyGnwAAQnKPbG2noVRBiDC_p4y-LsS6Zhox-J0tkbWrHK9VI7/s1600-h/Photo+347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtjKxDyCkf9f_yO9N602U427v9Pf7q2Jd8YFrycksz_eERzQEcNf3vuXl3RhWDsvrAuRsUxAHcxwPwZSI2MPeqit9AurSyGnwAAQnKPbG2noVRBiDC_p4y-LsS6Zhox-J0tkbWrHK9VI7/s320/Photo+347.jpg" width="320" border="0" height="240" /></a> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1MpzkMOj3iTmMJ6Ml1uvHnSp9nYS-5jr7tA2o78F-7tVG76mAU96RF32j5LiaLKFM7vmj1d6cq4XNkxl6GsUd5VIPtsKLfHunYg7RX5IKkZk7SkfbmdiD1Bx3vR3e7DgTRBjBxbnRMIry/s1600-h/Photo+345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1MpzkMOj3iTmMJ6Ml1uvHnSp9nYS-5jr7tA2o78F-7tVG76mAU96RF32j5LiaLKFM7vmj1d6cq4XNkxl6GsUd5VIPtsKLfHunYg7RX5IKkZk7SkfbmdiD1Bx3vR3e7DgTRBjBxbnRMIry/s320/Photo+345.jpg" width="320" border="0" height="240" /></a> </div> Just kidding. I only look like that when I gots the "swine." Poot MNIM.. she probably looks like that now too! </div> <div class="MsoNormal"> </div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1ixgneg1gnzQErd-0boBD94I38tHxzf7915hC3lKrLA-q2c0JSdqJQF6b6KkqIkxMdePO1BaszyL_Wr0ix8HTqrDllFEeZwCVXFTHSoLjtML4nuiuNcM8WNZR8KYMwfAnL7kCBLlKd3d/s1600-h/Photo+272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1ixgneg1gnzQErd-0boBD94I38tHxzf7915hC3lKrLA-q2c0JSdqJQF6b6KkqIkxMdePO1BaszyL_Wr0ix8HTqrDllFEeZwCVXFTHSoLjtML4nuiuNcM8WNZR8KYMwfAnL7kCBLlKd3d/s320/Photo+272.jpg" width="320" border="0" height="240" /></a> </div> Here's my REAL glog. HAVE A GREAT SWINE FREE DAY FOLKS! Stop over and see me sometimes.. ROWWWWLLLL ! **** I was brutally and maliciously attacked last evening and I am reporting it HERE on this blog before I take my story public to all of the land. FUCKIN A. I stopped at the big bird, our local overpriced grocery store, that reels me in easily everytime, to grab some items after work last night. As any good citizen, should, I returned my damn shopping cart to it's rightful corral about 10 car slots up from my vehicle. Ran up there in the FA- REEEZING cold of night... gave it a BIG ASS SHOVE .. saw the effer head into the corral all by it's lonesome. Promptly headed back to my vehicle. Which happened to be my husband's BRAND NEW JEEP GRAND CHEROKEE. Got back in. Put the car in reverse. Looked ahead actually, oddly.. into the window of the vehicle parked in front of me. There was actually a driver in the car. I smiled politley cause I'm a friendly sorts and thought nothing of her oddly <span style="font-size:x-large;">wide eyes.</span> Turned my head, began a slow backup for takeoff... and off to my right out of the back side window.. when what to my wandering eyes do appear? Headed DIRECTly TOWARDS my vehicle, that is again not mine. On a slow and meticulous track toward my rear side panel. Like some stripped down version of Carrie- the killer car that gave me nightmares at age 12. That fucking shopping cart. Slow mo we go. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. screams supah from the confines of her vehicle.. frozen .. unable to move due to her inability to think through situations of emergency kinds.... Says the shopping cart from the depths of hell, reaching a maxium speed of 8 miles per hour... " YEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS." Bang. Nothing I could do. Old Wide eyes ( person in vehicle in front of me) connected with me for a moment before I winced and got out of my car. THANKS FOR THE WARNING jack ass! COULDN'T YOU HAVE signed TO ME THAT IS WAS COMING? I know sign language for pete's sake. At least the alphabet. Maybe written as sign in lipstick ON YOUR WINDOW??? Sent off a CARRIER pigeon to bring me A NOTE TELLING ME THAT THE CART WAS HEADED DIRECTLY FOR MY HUSBANDS NEW CAR????? UGHHH. So.. I get out. Run around to check the damage.. annnnnnnnnnnnnnnd.... as always... there's more. THAT FUCKING CARRIE CART... bounced off of my car and was headed.. WHERE YOU ASK???? DIRECTLY TOWARDS WIDE EYES VEHICLE. So I signed to her.. IN MY BEST SIGN LANGUAGE SKILLS. "Hey.. JACK ASS... you know that cart you didnt' tell me about.. the one that hit my husbands brand new car? Yeah that one.. W<span style="font-size:x-large;">Ell</span><span style="font-size:x-large;"> it's headed for your headlights. "</span> <span style="font-size:x-large;"> </span> <span style="font-size:x-large;"> </span> <span style="font-size:x-large;">And I got in my car and left. </span> xoxox© supah <div style="margin: 0px;"> <div style="margin: 0px;"> dont' forget about: </div> </div> <div style="margin: 0px;"> <div style="margin: 0px;"> </div> </div> <div style="margin: 0px;"> <div style="margin: 0px;"> </div> </div> <div style="margin: 0px;"> <div style="margin: 0px;"> <a href="http://blerapy.blogspot.com/">bLerApy blog</a> - anon-y-mous bloggin </div> </div> <div style="margin: 0px;"> <div style="margin: 0px;"> <a href="http://supahmommy.blogspot.com/2009/11/writers-round-up-dust-off-your-writing.html">Writers' Roundup</a> - creative writing group ( assignment due NOv 11th) </div> </div> <div> <div style="margin: 0px;"> <div style="margin: 0px;"> <i><a href="http://supahmommy.blogspot.com/2009/10/another-bright-ass-idea-skype-with.html">skyping with supah</a> - speak to supah and be featured on her blog * NEW</i> </div> </div> </div> <div> <div style="margin: 0px;"> <div style="margin: 0px;"> <i> </i> </div> </div> <div style="margin: 0px;"> <div style="margin: 0px;"> <i>and supah's last giveaway! <a href="http://supahmommy.blogspot.com/2009/10/free-friday-pet-festival-jackets-id.html">Pet Festival!</a>- night light, id tags, doggy vests and books</i> </div> </div> </div>Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-79911209625322922262009-10-22T18:13:00.003-05:002009-10-22T18:31:27.069-05:00Tiptoeing All AroundI think perhaps I may be a horrible, horrible human being. 8's grandmother is tiptoeing the line between the clouds and the land. We have been told that she will be dead by Monday at the very latest. And 8 has asked me to come with him to her home tomorrow. Of course I will go. Not only because I adore his grandmother, but because I love him with every ounce of life that courses through my veins. And with every ounce of life that is leaving hers.<br /><br />But I am selfish.<br /><br />I am horrible.<br /><br />I don't want to go.<br /><br />I absolutely do NOT want to watch death steal life from this woman.<br /><br />I absolutely do NOT want to watch death push and prod and pull on everyone's heartstrings....teasing us....taunting us....bringing us to the brink of relief and soulful pain time and time again, only to laugh in our face and say "no, not yet...i'm not ready for her yet"<br /><br />I do not want to sit in the house and listen to death slowly rob her from us, breath by shallow breath<br /><br />I do not want to sit and watch life die<br /><br />It is selfish of me. I know this. Because I am not thinking of 8 in this equation of birth + first breath = life and life + last breath = death. <br /><br />I have watched death tip toe, jump, run rampant, and sprint through the people I love. I do not feel like I can do this again. Every encounter scrounges up memories of the last encounter, and while rumor has it that it is supposed to get easier as you get older, it is just that - a rumor. <br /><br />Death will never be easy for me. I will never accept death as the norm. I will never accept death as the norm. I will never accept death as the norm.<br /><br />Cancer, I hate you.<br /><br />Death, go away. and don't come back. not even on a rainy day. don't come back. don't come back.<br /><br />Don't.<br />Come.<br />Back.Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-69686256574156565392009-10-20T20:42:00.011-05:002009-10-20T21:35:13.366-05:00POST IT OR SUCK IT!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiURgmpEUhyn5TkbXxFLShx1nw9XCIX3VqBeIrs8flAaoSAW0YuUGe5Rb9obCSJ93dTdqz001wjnFYz_Ah-w5G_CFLm9gaEIolRYYELJ66bayDJeiiyuOt3YoTmstsxHZan1jpsLnJdeXE/s1600-h/superstickies(22).png"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiURgmpEUhyn5TkbXxFLShx1nw9XCIX3VqBeIrs8flAaoSAW0YuUGe5Rb9obCSJ93dTdqz001wjnFYz_Ah-w5G_CFLm9gaEIolRYYELJ66bayDJeiiyuOt3YoTmstsxHZan1jpsLnJdeXE/s320/superstickies(22).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394873711649629666" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_K9WhO3R8RYo1gfE5zRYa7KWYg6oqhr54o0MXI4St1yVDbuMjB-slMgGvz-Ofq-bz1t85HjFqMo-EOr6ng-PHeat7RbQqRrG3PQEATgK-DkhnWg4DFPSbd2fetoZxq2uPnQ-EHh52UQ/s1600-h/superstickies(23).png"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_K9WhO3R8RYo1gfE5zRYa7KWYg6oqhr54o0MXI4St1yVDbuMjB-slMgGvz-Ofq-bz1t85HjFqMo-EOr6ng-PHeat7RbQqRrG3PQEATgK-DkhnWg4DFPSbd2fetoZxq2uPnQ-EHh52UQ/s320/superstickies(23).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394873857267963474" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbVZIpHAgpABATjp6LoxMvD1Tkfk11T2EzVa4X5aQsVPMX8-thg5LUNTLufhLBtsuObgJzGXFid3F485EHJB4_D27SC0TXl8KQfKActOmPUIGcaRpjDuerAn1JVxtuylUxyCK0RKL2gYA/s1600-h/superstickies(24).png"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbVZIpHAgpABATjp6LoxMvD1Tkfk11T2EzVa4X5aQsVPMX8-thg5LUNTLufhLBtsuObgJzGXFid3F485EHJB4_D27SC0TXl8KQfKActOmPUIGcaRpjDuerAn1JVxtuylUxyCK0RKL2gYA/s320/superstickies(24).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394874042983050914" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVdMOyr8SIzvRy3Lch4V-kUtku3jzJGanpsrZLOo1ctM2QVCsmnoK0RCYheCxlMo3G1Gz6RSV4Qd05OujLoCk4EaLRjVtU54NrjbaT0PHh1_5xAaMM6Qga6glyTkE9WhEAxhYkfDVMW6s/s1600-h/superstickies(25).png"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVdMOyr8SIzvRy3Lch4V-kUtku3jzJGanpsrZLOo1ctM2QVCsmnoK0RCYheCxlMo3G1Gz6RSV4Qd05OujLoCk4EaLRjVtU54NrjbaT0PHh1_5xAaMM6Qga6glyTkE9WhEAxhYkfDVMW6s/s320/superstickies(25).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394874320526846290" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDhJ0r7bpp62c-D3EodxGkG7X0UnJ0YQ6KPVGKHH_yy2GwcVjfHJSfp4stvK05A-E8kEjOvR74y89VCSZcGvWaIcLN2cVld4sUyL4OHvU03lrxIffoBCZ9Ot5vEEt3U_NhNVfLWFduzNk/s1600-h/superstickies(26).png"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDhJ0r7bpp62c-D3EodxGkG7X0UnJ0YQ6KPVGKHH_yy2GwcVjfHJSfp4stvK05A-E8kEjOvR74y89VCSZcGvWaIcLN2cVld4sUyL4OHvU03lrxIffoBCZ9Ot5vEEt3U_NhNVfLWFduzNk/s320/superstickies(26).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394874624142735810" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaM9gr7uBmogqRb4qdQdsvMfKRgXqLFpYaOlg0fEicklbpxjO-35p_Oh-rMwnPLwUtuORMY_kQzLsb9rrkZJ7_10LWkTg-H_8uLuU_WUw5LLkUwv-6Kc4cOFSFTvGBPWCBOdQ1VXiNl4E/s1600-h/superstickies(27).png"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaM9gr7uBmogqRb4qdQdsvMfKRgXqLFpYaOlg0fEicklbpxjO-35p_Oh-rMwnPLwUtuORMY_kQzLsb9rrkZJ7_10LWkTg-H_8uLuU_WUw5LLkUwv-6Kc4cOFSFTvGBPWCBOdQ1VXiNl4E/s320/superstickies(27).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394874937727841842" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhehoUUWvAB4AgVxu0HeBtcV8qTdyUJMKdtdss5GJN_yLE0Uc_WR7OsRsRKeeS9aDGcbT-LyWW6V2D9X9XggbThblOicma_vlpWy-AyyVMB69rwhpWnH-nCiC3hD2GyzBYHTqCcNcSBcrw/s1600-h/superstickies(28).png"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhehoUUWvAB4AgVxu0HeBtcV8qTdyUJMKdtdss5GJN_yLE0Uc_WR7OsRsRKeeS9aDGcbT-LyWW6V2D9X9XggbThblOicma_vlpWy-AyyVMB69rwhpWnH-nCiC3hD2GyzBYHTqCcNcSBcrw/s320/superstickies(28).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394875218788727042" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ZDjbotNk_W0TRm-eMvulh5eOZFtW3lYSiD9ByN_IomfScp37vNbtVNJMdrYeiqx-s9tOq76gI_jAKAjBNOux9Qt3ucXsJUft4EmyCg7iL6ngp6g6hfgtdlVPgmhNNNtXNevsShiUW-U/s1600-h/superstickies(29).png"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ZDjbotNk_W0TRm-eMvulh5eOZFtW3lYSiD9ByN_IomfScp37vNbtVNJMdrYeiqx-s9tOq76gI_jAKAjBNOux9Qt3ucXsJUft4EmyCg7iL6ngp6g6hfgtdlVPgmhNNNtXNevsShiUW-U/s320/superstickies(29).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394875434423092946" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRdgPn75HdNgVk35FEau9p31SLnDCDJLR6f5x0sWkMGPUJ4y863uSFJCL4C7g9zTAXL8w-XA_XdKDXYxBQPu3Ou8f5rWQ8U_DMtjfiEodLibJ73VoUiGceA-Degp6u86Bcq0pHOn-Nm6M/s1600-h/superstickies(30).png"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRdgPn75HdNgVk35FEau9p31SLnDCDJLR6f5x0sWkMGPUJ4y863uSFJCL4C7g9zTAXL8w-XA_XdKDXYxBQPu3Ou8f5rWQ8U_DMtjfiEodLibJ73VoUiGceA-Degp6u86Bcq0pHOn-Nm6M/s320/superstickies(30).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394875640322805314" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">and last but surely not least......<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpXLWn3i9SkukfxRJSFfxYPxJRAJqqfkJQ5dJ6znAzLdmZ4u_CA0P_9pwh27LRzAAvokBpCB4UJPnxisPPPqFieX4Y8MlPtQcxWAheASa4-jQ68seBa7SYpVR9NWTPedt-kxO5qrGak4A/s1600-h/superstickies(31).png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpXLWn3i9SkukfxRJSFfxYPxJRAJqqfkJQ5dJ6znAzLdmZ4u_CA0P_9pwh27LRzAAvokBpCB4UJPnxisPPPqFieX4Y8MlPtQcxWAheASa4-jQ68seBa7SYpVR9NWTPedt-kxO5qrGak4A/s320/superstickies(31).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394875851284414354" border="0" /></a><br />SEE YOU WEDNESDAY!!!!<br /></div>Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-89750314859778225302009-10-20T19:45:00.006-05:002009-10-20T20:38:27.009-05:00If I Can't Blog Tomorrow It's Because My Hands Caught On FireYep. You read right. There is a very real possibility that my hands could spontaneously combust tomorrow.<br /><br />For those of you that don't know, which is probably most of you because I recently went MIA for about two weeks - I GOT A J-O-B!!!! I am no longer filled with the guilt of a catholic hooker. I am a contributing part of my household, and yes, I am thrilled to be paying taxes once again. Weird, right? It's like that high you get when your period FINALLY shows up after being one minute late. You know that feeling - well, not you Ethanblippity-blop or Steve Anthony....at least I hope you guys don't. But anyhoo, yes...mama got a job. BUT.....it's in a bridal salon.<br /><br />Now this is a VERY GOOD THING FOR ME.<br /><br />But a VERY BAD THING for my honey.<br /><br />Because see, he has yet to adorn my left handringfingerjustbelowthesecondknuckle with a shiny, sparkly bauble. Now yes, he has bought me a ring with diamonds.....and that's exactly what it is... A RING WITH DIAMONDS. A beautiful ring with diamonds that I absolutely LOVE, but if you're breathing and you're a girl and you've watched SATC a gazillion times, you know there is a difference between A RING WITH DIAMONDS and A DIAMOND RING.<br /><br />Here is my ring with diamonds.....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjRd01SugR-vUxYitAEm0R6iDcgYCV-5i97Le9XHw-mMGGdzhsjvvExzlberGUBN74si1fTfdn7RbzqMIiwYldubS3A18seIo1inquZCesdmfWeAksBR8WO-B0sD-yMae6FIcJGXPyH5I/s1600-h/Picture0052.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 367px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjRd01SugR-vUxYitAEm0R6iDcgYCV-5i97Le9XHw-mMGGdzhsjvvExzlberGUBN74si1fTfdn7RbzqMIiwYldubS3A18seIo1inquZCesdmfWeAksBR8WO-B0sD-yMae6FIcJGXPyH5I/s400/Picture0052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394851083465613954" border="0" /></a><br />It's beautiful. It's antique in style and fits me perfectly. I gasped when he gave it to me last Christmas. I love my ring with diamonds.<br /><br />However, I'm a mom to HIS kid now. We live together. We talk about THAT day as if it's just around the corner. And now I work in a bridal salon. I promised myself I wouldn't touch any of the dresses because I knew that would be the end of me. All so called patience would run screaming from my body and I would end up a hot mess, crying every day saying "why won't he marry me" (and I swear if anyone makes that stupid cow and milk reference I will say very not nice things about you in blogland....even if I have to make them up...and I have a VERY good imagination). But then this conversation took place with my boss before I left today....<br /><br />Me: Ok....So I'll see you tomorrow.<br /><br />Him: Yep. Big day for you. You're trying on dresses tomorrow.<br /><br />Me: I'm sorry. Did you say I'm <span style="font-style: italic;">trying on </span>dresses tomorrow?<br /><br />Him: Yes ma'am.....and veils and tiara's too.<br /><br />Me: (lookin' like a deer trapped in approaching headlights) Ahhhh...ok...see you tomorrow!<br /><br />Me in my head: <span style="font-style: italic;">ohshitohshitohshitohshit......what the eff....what the freakin' eff....I haven't TOUCHED a wedding dress in 4.5 years ON PURPOSE.....crapcrapcrapcrapCRAP!!!!!<br /><br /></span>I haven't told my honey this is happening tomorrow. He knows it will happen at some point in my training but he doesn't know tomorrow is the day. I haven't told him because if he responds with "Ha! Have fun with that" and I punch him in the mouth out of sheer reflex, I might go to jail. And I don't want him raising the munchkin without me. He might send her off to school one day with a giant, nappy mess for hair, and I can't have my girl lookin' like she's homeless. She's just too cute for that. And honestly, I'm too cute for jail. I ain't tryin' to be nobody's bitch. I got my <span style="font-style: italic;">own</span> bitches.....<span style="font-style: italic;">heeeeeeeyyyyyyy bitcheeeeeeesssssssss</span>...ya'll know who you are.....<br /><br />So anyways, if I don't blog tomorrow, it's most likely because my hands caught on fire after touching a wedding ensemble. Which I suppose would save my honey the trouble of having to replace my ring with diamonds with a DIAMOND RING.<br /><br />I keep mentioning that in the hopes that he might decide to actually read this post sometime in the near future and feel a sense of urgency to make a shiny, sparkly purchase for my lefthandringfingerjustbelowthesecondknuckle. Should he get hit with such inspiration, here is a little help.....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirR3kcRkpBQGYBm57XBEPUdIEMAlzEnm1OzwG2ZgKpUGl5iF-JdQKfP_ErKNJBmbmTH_phVTDceb8Fls_GG71D3tb5Kzm19ljeNDIb7XS0bXMBpNT9uRkfIdaF3VCjYY1-iX3qEcguVrs/s1600-h/this+COULD+be+my+ring.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirR3kcRkpBQGYBm57XBEPUdIEMAlzEnm1OzwG2ZgKpUGl5iF-JdQKfP_ErKNJBmbmTH_phVTDceb8Fls_GG71D3tb5Kzm19ljeNDIb7XS0bXMBpNT9uRkfIdaF3VCjYY1-iX3qEcguVrs/s200/this+COULD+be+my+ring.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394859096264732770" border="0" /></a>Something like this, or even this one in particular, would look a-freakin-mazing on my lefthandringfingerjustbelowthesecondknuckle. I'm just sayin'.....<br /><br /><br />But then again, if my hands catch on fire, he won't have to worry about that will he....<br /><br />unless it comes in an ultra fabulous toe ring......<br /><br /><br />please ladies...like u wouldn't......don't front.....<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-41878989950386464242009-10-19T21:25:00.012-05:002009-10-19T22:10:13.622-05:00I NEVER MET A MARTINI THAT TURNED ME AWAY......MEME MONDAY MY WAYI would like to preface this by saying that this is THE BEST drinking game on the planet.....<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I NEVER.......<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">1. regret eating an entire pint of Ben n Jerry's Chubby Hubby ice cream in one sitting.....to regret that is the equivalent of regretting great sex......ITS JUST PLAIN ASANINE!!! However, if forced to choose one day between the great sex and the great ice cream....oooohhhhh...I think the ice cream just might win....can't get sweat in your eye eating ice cream (and isnt that just the WORST!!! SWEAT IN THE EYE - EW!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7XV8pS7yHA-ovnXk3f2Kz31Sq5FW1BFgkHEU7Jvo65mRbtt076ySlZfT_J1Zs3xxHK1vmB3V8FCqpees3beX0eOtI1UgEB0TE9bN79xxTxT36_QhDZk5o5Cq80hvBs6VhNOFV_FcieQI/s1600-h/chubbyhubby.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 129px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7XV8pS7yHA-ovnXk3f2Kz31Sq5FW1BFgkHEU7Jvo65mRbtt076ySlZfT_J1Zs3xxHK1vmB3V8FCqpees3beX0eOtI1UgEB0TE9bN79xxTxT36_QhDZk5o5Cq80hvBs6VhNOFV_FcieQI/s320/chubbyhubby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394507175487585298" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">2. have seen a James Bond movie either, Supah. Nor have I seen any of the Star Wars films. And I have no desire too either. In my opinion...SNORING-BORING!<br /></div><br />3. ever ever ever in life found Denzel Washington to be the slightest bit attractive. I think there must be some unwritten code somewhere that as a breathing female I am supposed to just lose all composure and have orgasms on command when his horse grin shows up on the screen...but ahhhh....yeah - not so much for me. Now let Idris Elba pop up and the panties come DOWN! He is one tall glass of SLAP YO MAMA HE'S FINE!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUKzDsL_IxHu9i4LfvkjwDcKgdm5trKVRmGdeRPe3S9_UWIP_OBPFtH0g873bplo0Bd5A_0IrCfjTlTmcbCo-AyiPIgLn2w_rL2NFz4nPKL24uJFJlwpxmKMiaq1aLuLnrhNUAMwwPLo/s1600-h/IDRIS+ELBA.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 111px; height: 78px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUKzDsL_IxHu9i4LfvkjwDcKgdm5trKVRmGdeRPe3S9_UWIP_OBPFtH0g873bplo0Bd5A_0IrCfjTlTmcbCo-AyiPIgLn2w_rL2NFz4nPKL24uJFJlwpxmKMiaq1aLuLnrhNUAMwwPLo/s320/IDRIS+ELBA.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394505946239010754" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">4. never really understood the "mama bear" syndrome people talk about when women have babies - until I had one. I would tear someone to itty bitty pieces if they EVER hurt the munchkin - physically or emotionally. I have come to realize that in this arena, I will be THAT mom. The neck roll and "I wish you would" tone of Clair Huxtable, paired with the slightly neurotic tendencies of Rosie Perez in "Do The Right Thing". Except not so nasally.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhme2K2F7ko4HG_W3_ESUy_NTK28pjI6e5AzwUBIdQ0fasCMArpYj4Hn5UVuv1FR2AFCVrTE-sFgIMP-Ke69cXithN2y2n52KpM0M4jBUJxgtQju1dlYJu7jUbJjz0G97v1ld6D-PCVXb4/s1600-h/rosie+perez.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 65px; height: 94px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhme2K2F7ko4HG_W3_ESUy_NTK28pjI6e5AzwUBIdQ0fasCMArpYj4Hn5UVuv1FR2AFCVrTE-sFgIMP-Ke69cXithN2y2n52KpM0M4jBUJxgtQju1dlYJu7jUbJjz0G97v1ld6D-PCVXb4/s320/rosie+perez.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394510294718586546" border="0" /></a> + <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO3NLnxYdapzcjfKqHTkbbxjXl27dUTl2gDV2f8pf86VO0na7yrgtdeSn6JTtG1fNspSkyR4S5zAkkbXgZAPVQWreq46vKis724zNopTJd4Y3Te3AUiPVaoeMhiz-tQY1xtuSwItCNBc8/s1600-h/clair+huxtable.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 61px; height: 78px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO3NLnxYdapzcjfKqHTkbbxjXl27dUTl2gDV2f8pf86VO0na7yrgtdeSn6JTtG1fNspSkyR4S5zAkkbXgZAPVQWreq46vKis724zNopTJd4Y3Te3AUiPVaoeMhiz-tQY1xtuSwItCNBc8/s320/clair+huxtable.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394510456546421042" border="0" /></a> = <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgusL3ga3sqpiutc53BumUWaiXkweA4SDiK9YZ8PwQSZLEew2NfYq9J2o9on7RUD0BstUu_p1foQnQTIoNgWuEPJRz_C5fGnreV-_ZCyU771P1QeemywrgVlaJ_nnNlircjUyqUv8JhS58/s1600-h/Picture0049.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgusL3ga3sqpiutc53BumUWaiXkweA4SDiK9YZ8PwQSZLEew2NfYq9J2o9on7RUD0BstUu_p1foQnQTIoNgWuEPJRz_C5fGnreV-_ZCyU771P1QeemywrgVlaJ_nnNlircjUyqUv8JhS58/s320/Picture0049.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394512145996437842" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">5. have had the balls to admit that......ahhhhh.....some things are better left a secret....so let's just say i've never admitted SOMETHING in life....and I'm not about to start coming clean now....<br /></div></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">SORRY SUCKAAAAAAAASSSSSSSS!!!!!!!<br /><br /><br /></div></div><br /></div><img src="file:///C:/Users/Owner/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot-11.png" alt="" /><br /><br /></div></div>Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-87379307808164007742009-10-16T07:19:00.003-05:002009-10-16T08:08:06.931-05:00My Life in RewindWhat a week, what a week! Would anyone like to switch places.....i'm kinda cute and my honey is a hottie...have a cute kid and awesome neighbors.....well....don't talk to the nosey nelly across the street....she's so nosey she can tell you what color underwear you have on....but otherwise - please let's do a little swap.....ONLY IF THIS SWAP INVOLVES LOTS OF VODKA, A BEACH, BALMY WEATHER, AND A HOT CABANA BOY NAMED PAULO.<br /><br />No?? Nobody? Ugh. You guys suck. <br /><br />So here's my week in review....<br /><br />Monday - got dolled up for a job interview. Job pays well but OMG I would probably blow my brains out on DAY ONE! The place is soooooo quiet. And I'd be answering phones - ALL DAY. It made me think that if I worked there I would pee my pants AT MY DESK just to have something to talk about/laugh about/cause a raucous about. Of couurse THAT would get me fired, so I left deciding that job was definitely NOT for me. HOWEVER, when I got home from THAT interview I received a phone call from a bridal shop I had interviewed at and HEY HEY YA'LL...YA'LL CAN STOP LIGHTIN' THOSE CATHOLIC PRAYER CANDLES CUZ MAMA GOT A J-O-B!!!! Hells yeah bitcheeeeeeeessssssssss!!!!! I get to dress brides-to-be in beautiful dresses ALL DAY LONG!!! This is soooo up my alley - I am thrilled beyond all belief!<br /><br />Tuesday - drove to Austin to say "see you when I get there" to my honey's grandmother. She is currently dying from cancer. I will say this - it is a blessing and a curse that this is the first time I have encountered cancer close up and in my face. And you know what - I HATE CANCER! And I don't hate anything in life - mom always said "don't use the word 'hate' - it's a strong word"...so I have lived by that rule my entire life. But I'm saying it - I HATE CANCER. It's ugly, horrible, evil - satan's incarnate. I have never sat by someone's side and just STARED at their chest, willing it to rise one more time...praying for on more heave of labored breath....and then having my own breathing stop when hers stops - only to realize it's just a pause. Torn between wanting her pain to come to an end praying for Jesus to come take her, and selfishly not wanting to let her go. I watched death tip-toe around her room all day long. I will say it again. Sorry mom but I HATE CANCER.<br /><br />Wednesday - Slept alllllll daaaaaaaayyyyyyyy loooooooonnnnnnnnggggggggg. Me, honey, and munchkin. We were EXHAUSTED!<br /><br />Thursday - I will lovingly call this "fat ass shopping day" because that is EXACTLY what it was. I headed out to our lovely Premium Outlets (which is waaaayyyy too close to my house - bad things happen to my wallet there) to purchase some new clothes for work. Somehow, I have managed to hold on to this baby weight. Mind you, the munchkin was born 5 MONTHS AND 2 DAYS AGO....but I've decided to hold on to the weight. Nostalgia? Souvenir? Lovely parting gift? Whatever it is, I'm so over it. I don't think it's normal for a tummy to look like a grocery bag. I really don't. So anyway - went shopping and found a FETCH cheetah print pencil skirt that comes up high enough to cover the love handles and gives the illusion of a svelte waist. I would take a picture of it and paste it on here, but I might have to hunt down and kill the first commenter that made any reference to it being a table cloth. So to save my time in jail for something that really matters (like offing my ex-husband - JUST KIDDING), I will just let you imagine it. Trust me - it's FABULOUS! Then, when I thought all else had failed (and was ready to tear my maternity jeans to shreds), I tried on a pair of "Hepburn" jeans by Liz Claiborne. <br /><br />OMG!!! <br />Let me say it again. <br />O.M.F.G!!!<br /><br />If you a carrying aroung a badonka-donk worthy of setting a thanksgiving turkey on - you have GOT to get these jeans!! If you are tired of your sig. other looking down the back of your jeans and saying "nice chonies" - you have GOT to get these jeans!! If you like BREATHING when you sit down in your jeans, and not getting light headed because your waistband is cutting off blood flow to your brain - YOU HAVE GOT TO GET THESE JEANS!!! Not to mention you will look damn hot while breathing and not passing out.<br /><br />Sadly though, this is where the fun of trying on clothes ended. Nothing else quite worked. Perhaps I got as high as shoppingly possible with the jeans. Soooooo.......I guess I have only one option now. P90X here I come. Lord, please let me live through this death video.....<br /><br />And now here we are - FRIDAY. FRIDAY FRIDAY FRIDAY. I'm up. I'm writing. Munchkin is sleeping. Waiting for honey to come back with my breakfast and coffee and then taking him to work. What does the day hold.....I know one thing it holds - LOTS OF WEAVE PATTING!!! Beyonce was NOT KIDDING when she told the ladies to "pat your weave" in the "Get Me Bodied" video. OMG. Beauty has a crazy price. Oh and why do you have to PAT your weave? Beacuse if you scratch your scalp you could loosen the weave and then look like a broke down NYC hooker. NOT A GOOD LOOK. Sooooooooo not a good look.<br /><br />So there ya go - because I'm so sure my life is so freakin important that you MUST know about the goings ons....is that even a word?? I suppose my life would be more interesting if I were friends with Kate G. Then I could be all cool with her and then come back and give you all the juicy behind the scenes gossip. HAHAHAHAHA....no...I'm not that chic. <br /><br />Anyhoo - ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND LOVELIES!!!Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-9922955605007999942009-10-12T18:48:00.002-05:002009-10-12T19:19:04.227-05:00MeMe Monday - for my FRIEND SupahSooooo...OMG HOW MUCH DO I LOOOOOOVVVVVEEEEEE FRIENDS????!!!!!!<br /><br />As I read the prompts on Supah's page I found myself cracking up thinking about my fave episodes, the quotes I infuse into any conversation I can, and the way EVERYTHING related back to Friends back in the day....<br /><br />I mean - who didn't have the "we were on a break" argument with their college boyfriend???<br /><br />Who didn't have an evil neighbor like Mr. Heckles, or a hot neighbor like Paulo? (unlucky/lucky me - I DID!)<br /><br />And didn't we all dress up like Princess Leia for our honey's? No? Yeah - me neither. There was no way my boob was fittin' in that mini funnel of a bra...but i certainly thought about it!<br /><br />So for my contribution to MeMe Monday, I choose: WHICH FRIENDS CHARACTER ARE YOU MOST LIKE??<br /><br />In my head I think Monica....I am neurotic. OCD to the nth degree. I organize my pantry. I alphabetize my spices. I have my ottoman strategically placed for optimum foot resting. My closet is organized by color, sleeve length and collar style. So in my head I.AM.MONICA.<br /><br />IN REALITY, I AM PHOEBE. Through and through, I am Phoebe to the core. I make up stupid songs for EVERYTHING. I see the good in all people. I fall in love with boys that move away. I find the quirkiest ways to rationalize things so that they make sense in my head. I believe the spirit of my dad, best friend, and grandmother come to visit me in the form of butterflies whenever I'm feeling sad, or am confused. I think it's TOTALLY okay to run like a five year old through a park full of crowded people because I DON'T CARE WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK OF ME. <br /><br />Truth be told, some friends of mine have actually nicknamed me Phoebe b/c of my nutty idiosyncrasies...go figure.<br /><br />So to copy Supah - I guess I would PHOENICA...said with a long "o" and the "i" sounding like a long "e", it sounds like the name of a girl from the hood....<br /><br />and my fave friends episode....gosh - there are so freakin many....I love the flashback episodes (Supah your post had me CRYING!!!! I imagined myself on the floor with Nenny just ACHING with laughter. If I ever meet DBD I am going to introduce myself as Tubbs)...the "we were on a break" episode is classic b/c it spawned the all time greatest comeback of all times...<br /><br />Rachel: "Well it's NOT okay, and it DOESN'T happen to everybody!"<br />Chandler: "I KNEW IT!"<br /><br />I think I peed my pants during that episode....I mean really - 13 pages front and back....FRONT AND BACK!!!<br /><br />THE PROPOSAL. Ok. Tell the truth. Were you or were you NOT on your knees with Monica when she was asking Chandler to marry her?? Or did you or did you not cry right along with her when Chandler surprised HER?!<br /><br />Ugh...I could go on and on....there are so many great Friends moments....but I can without falter that it will go down in my history book as one of the greatest show of all times....and I'm not a TV person...but there are three shows that I have religiously never missed - not even repeats...The Cosby Show, Friends, and Sex and The City.....<br /><br />Ahhhhhh........where's my remote...I know ONE of these is on right now......Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-13689537703459761842009-10-11T16:02:00.004-05:002009-10-11T16:20:02.976-05:00I Ain't Mr. Kotter, But Welcome Me Back, Dammit!Wow. Ok...2 weeks out and now I'm back. Honestly, I couldn't tell you why I stopped blogging for those couple of weeks. I wanted to. I thought about it. I drove around and thought to myself "ohhhh I gotta blog about this!", but never did. So I guess one could say that perhaps I had bloggers block.<br /><br />So in an effort to catch you all up (as if you all really care because I am just that important) - here is my life in fastforward...<br /><br />Munchkin laughed a couple of times, but has yet to do it again<br /><br />10 and 12's mom is threatening to move to Dallas with them - not sure how I feel about this - how i REALLY feel<br /><br />got a full on WEAVE (yay for white girl hair!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsn8QYsxsc8OQ3mfX5KSQ-P2LaA5Qf7vgmBQ-Qw868vItcvRT7cpFfylrRUgIBGDWQUwZigCXwBj-eq3vxbMmO2gGxy9bocBP-zCXXf9f1KmJ0p1Sx7fSaBVVtJboZ3iOHxrSAgzvpJs0/s1600-h/Picture0041.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsn8QYsxsc8OQ3mfX5KSQ-P2LaA5Qf7vgmBQ-Qw868vItcvRT7cpFfylrRUgIBGDWQUwZigCXwBj-eq3vxbMmO2gGxy9bocBP-zCXXf9f1KmJ0p1Sx7fSaBVVtJboZ3iOHxrSAgzvpJs0/s320/Picture0041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391452972926246386" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Had a job interview with David's Bridal for a bridal consultant position<br /><br />Have an interview with a non profit agency on Monday for a Parent Educator position<br /><br />8 and I seem to be doing very well....although there are definitely days I'd like to smother him in his sleep, for the most part he is the love of my life<br /><br />oh...and how could I forget....<br /><br />Much to my chagrin, 8 has brought a tv the size of a small country into the home, which now puts a tv in the bedroom....while initially I was a fan of this idea b/c now I can watch shows I'D like to watch, instead of 24 hour ESPN, now I am wondering if this was really a good idea. I feel like we spend even less hang out time together now.....maybe that's why we've been getting along so well....hmmmm...something to ponder.....<br /><br />So there...that was my life in fast forward. And now that I go back and read it, I have no idea why you guys read my blog...I am one boring ass chic...lol....but damn if I don't make boring look good, right? <br /><br />HAHAHAHAAHA.....I crack myself up!<br /><br />until next time lovelies......Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-68538834039091440562009-09-29T01:33:00.012-05:002009-09-29T01:57:41.511-05:00Post-It Note Tuesdays - PLAY ALONG!Post-It Note Tuesdays with Supah....Notes to the Munchkin....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5bze-YVKXXsrzNle0YOVec8_BOMlHGHiOCRuOiIsTxScimYNl1pqH0nvHJ-FYfitLK139NU6wWplnbQIbxAjb4GhEmNe-ikYvik9gga2YqD802N4UaNbv_JExL1iceetdmaOROogOePw/s1600-h/superstickies(11).png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5bze-YVKXXsrzNle0YOVec8_BOMlHGHiOCRuOiIsTxScimYNl1pqH0nvHJ-FYfitLK139NU6wWplnbQIbxAjb4GhEmNe-ikYvik9gga2YqD802N4UaNbv_JExL1iceetdmaOROogOePw/s400/superstickies(11).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386777096768405362" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMmwr2RfssWcJzk0k_HhbxGaWUzcUnYllpi_ToCRn_EOX7vm855d94mVsbZzTBroqxRSM3rhYY8m8E_oeluYD2TDkTTMNSj9jU5LJXSyRYpvK0r989u2ZQWLzC1XUJi5VVFC3Xyn0tJA/s1600-h/superstickies(12).png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMmwr2RfssWcJzk0k_HhbxGaWUzcUnYllpi_ToCRn_EOX7vm855d94mVsbZzTBroqxRSM3rhYY8m8E_oeluYD2TDkTTMNSj9jU5LJXSyRYpvK0r989u2ZQWLzC1XUJi5VVFC3Xyn0tJA/s400/superstickies(12).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386777268505906706" border="0" /> </a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDnB837mRmB8wBUYHXMUKmQxjXdRW5hD0meraHru98oawvW_ENLtWtdnQ9tK3A7eFwJ-wLU1bxvqxDIFYrWHfH9cBCTGimmWFjhO788ElpWt33qC_0DxKVSiyA3eh3LDANKUp7MrYkbE/s1600-h/superstickies(13).png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDnB837mRmB8wBUYHXMUKmQxjXdRW5hD0meraHru98oawvW_ENLtWtdnQ9tK3A7eFwJ-wLU1bxvqxDIFYrWHfH9cBCTGimmWFjhO788ElpWt33qC_0DxKVSiyA3eh3LDANKUp7MrYkbE/s400/superstickies(13).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386777611818714338" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxSbRCEGk4JvMitYwVwJU7d4ihNJMbb3KTp8VUJyrtI61sIqyNnTU72tbsBtNL_d9y-3Jp2w-P4e59hTooht6QJdxb5x3V6BUgcLMTkRqIxGwsrbi04qR9xw4bwyFiCLfiPkYO_ChvbYE/s1600-h/superstickies(14).png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxSbRCEGk4JvMitYwVwJU7d4ihNJMbb3KTp8VUJyrtI61sIqyNnTU72tbsBtNL_d9y-3Jp2w-P4e59hTooht6QJdxb5x3V6BUgcLMTkRqIxGwsrbi04qR9xw4bwyFiCLfiPkYO_ChvbYE/s400/superstickies(14).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386777850307132258" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix37EuWinvFUYqRcLqpKplh5fRCNPPuhqp01QvZ8Wl7RBZmfC7AXDz0KyqUpV6QU2t_yIEyq8Wsr3RFi8XCRcMOFcLF__x_QudGNLqk_QNpg4_MIjShr4f3qiGMt3rCMis2i59HdN3PUM/s1600-h/superstickies(15).png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix37EuWinvFUYqRcLqpKplh5fRCNPPuhqp01QvZ8Wl7RBZmfC7AXDz0KyqUpV6QU2t_yIEyq8Wsr3RFi8XCRcMOFcLF__x_QudGNLqk_QNpg4_MIjShr4f3qiGMt3rCMis2i59HdN3PUM/s400/superstickies(15).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386778081882701506" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj931-0zP04iDPWbQbzbW4DpFcGOuqCASvLqiiTEGeZQu-RcHqBbacU2qa7B246jUe1jWCnENilvdZjiaJIYdVkfvuCZZ9F8x9nybrhMJDM6-hqKJ8y8nAE9FqXRVCUUvttHCJCTW7mW6s/s1600-h/superstickies(16).png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj931-0zP04iDPWbQbzbW4DpFcGOuqCASvLqiiTEGeZQu-RcHqBbacU2qa7B246jUe1jWCnENilvdZjiaJIYdVkfvuCZZ9F8x9nybrhMJDM6-hqKJ8y8nAE9FqXRVCUUvttHCJCTW7mW6s/s400/superstickies(16).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386778421104640066" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjps0PKwl7e8NaavNqWgko-09IVk8_Z9pOh6fYHg8DM39hJg6tEqW16SUt7WbvHaTwqv2UghZ5XgJ8FgHgi3b2WJynkzbYL0PvNBKDBH_hdJASnNFFjhByLHLakiyftuawC-DA7K2IrZcU/s1600-h/superstickies(17).png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjps0PKwl7e8NaavNqWgko-09IVk8_Z9pOh6fYHg8DM39hJg6tEqW16SUt7WbvHaTwqv2UghZ5XgJ8FgHgi3b2WJynkzbYL0PvNBKDBH_hdJASnNFFjhByLHLakiyftuawC-DA7K2IrZcU/s400/superstickies(17).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386778642494833410" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijqa6dyxl9a9aErYn1oP7W-Hb2Y0X4kzENg_wdY4yQ_6vCYLPaRkny7hAybv-5GIYVq4R0K7o1bAX-S1tJMSiiKxCpuHR-uk6lu38R8Jtib8p-dmEr2cXnN03I7vFfO5OBVFimSTGR47M/s1600-h/superstickies(18).png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijqa6dyxl9a9aErYn1oP7W-Hb2Y0X4kzENg_wdY4yQ_6vCYLPaRkny7hAybv-5GIYVq4R0K7o1bAX-S1tJMSiiKxCpuHR-uk6lu38R8Jtib8p-dmEr2cXnN03I7vFfO5OBVFimSTGR47M/s400/superstickies(18).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386778876103896274" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKFXkfqtdA4vFcCyAVAn_PTLnFHiuKhF5r3IIaHHlsDW8lSGUwjiKiSN1XQBGYYkGxyG_P4QIkbmyV8OBTJ_wE51lDau9y-DoyrNq3yXs9a4aSZajgzRs7H72YMAP8B9mu60VsazLVUe0/s1600-h/superstickies(19).png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKFXkfqtdA4vFcCyAVAn_PTLnFHiuKhF5r3IIaHHlsDW8lSGUwjiKiSN1XQBGYYkGxyG_P4QIkbmyV8OBTJ_wE51lDau9y-DoyrNq3yXs9a4aSZajgzRs7H72YMAP8B9mu60VsazLVUe0/s400/superstickies(19).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386779101828980834" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV8q67MDiCm9aJB6-U4mwqL-D6pIsPjvqlmciWiaDGZqODhYCbpLHknJHdUPV9M9bvCGhuMWAgSgt562hhl6YHuf2UUx4rxN78gLtRTvgnB7SfxEKOOK3fyFhHM68Tl1xTKbTWDaIJVO4/s1600-h/superstickies(21).png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV8q67MDiCm9aJB6-U4mwqL-D6pIsPjvqlmciWiaDGZqODhYCbpLHknJHdUPV9M9bvCGhuMWAgSgt562hhl6YHuf2UUx4rxN78gLtRTvgnB7SfxEKOOK3fyFhHM68Tl1xTKbTWDaIJVO4/s400/superstickies(21).png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386779390053910594" border="0" /></a>Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-12371811571807229232009-09-29T01:25:00.003-05:002009-09-29T01:31:48.246-05:00I Heart Faces - Blue TuesdayThis is my first time playing...but play along I will...here is my submission...My first child...my munchkin..and her daddy...asleep on the couch...she was all of ONE WEEK OLD....she's only 4 1/2 months old now but my how time has flown by...I love being her mama...even bad days are good days now...anyway...here's my munchkin and her papa bear....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3rIdbhOfGwhSb4Y-zWodXFHYpueTpimkYbDO41dh2SAGVfwZpmWLMYQqCqQuO4obgzsE1I64BNrU5-COJbp0zrXJamne09fGkYA6c8P1XMIAsYeA-a4tMapFukFf_73Y9ctS1qqmzd2k/s1600-h/442.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3rIdbhOfGwhSb4Y-zWodXFHYpueTpimkYbDO41dh2SAGVfwZpmWLMYQqCqQuO4obgzsE1I64BNrU5-COJbp0zrXJamne09fGkYA6c8P1XMIAsYeA-a4tMapFukFf_73Y9ctS1qqmzd2k/s400/442.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386772941856973650" border="0" /></a>Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-35307014968593173912009-09-27T16:42:00.014-05:002009-09-27T17:12:22.350-05:00Sunday Storytime With My Girl Em<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzmX-tjpWCB1ruvOFenGJVNq9uXx2DdJ4-P4QXm5wEG5byzhejFoLl3IPMZnaTCjylGUYmbaewhaAz4dbzi7yuJ6tb3JpZXuLJAW8IbthHwyjU0s_nIdRZ2JlASzRQjwSfVec3ODvLo8o/s1600-h/100_1129.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzmX-tjpWCB1ruvOFenGJVNq9uXx2DdJ4-P4QXm5wEG5byzhejFoLl3IPMZnaTCjylGUYmbaewhaAz4dbzi7yuJ6tb3JpZXuLJAW8IbthHwyjU0s_nIdRZ2JlASzRQjwSfVec3ODvLo8o/s320/100_1129.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386267454670206370" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />"Mommy, can I have a pony?"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh29-qiRu0fIhvAVHkcTDXvvAFoXAwwEDDyVo76Qh7t7xmgL5EXCTXWl8fOjtgZyys4nxxY561b_EdFtCTWQpkPOLxOeoeaP9twcao4kO22QbiecuyGfprppopnpWrreB1VXhDJxIoCzlk/s1600-h/100_1133.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 303px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh29-qiRu0fIhvAVHkcTDXvvAFoXAwwEDDyVo76Qh7t7xmgL5EXCTXWl8fOjtgZyys4nxxY561b_EdFtCTWQpkPOLxOeoeaP9twcao4kO22QbiecuyGfprppopnpWrreB1VXhDJxIoCzlk/s320/100_1133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386267880681323634" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />"What do you mean 'no'?"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOj5V1WdlCgF_Pmja_npQQY0HoTpavvYXrDPHp2zj7Hq5Zd7rPrkYgEC1s-2aohq-QjYjRtIJqTONxheUJL5LTOYIdhAXL_-MKvJl3CsaEzDW8dddYZ55Jy5aBBWWgGpnVwkP2HVI920/s1600-h/100_1151.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOj5V1WdlCgF_Pmja_npQQY0HoTpavvYXrDPHp2zj7Hq5Zd7rPrkYgEC1s-2aohq-QjYjRtIJqTONxheUJL5LTOYIdhAXL_-MKvJl3CsaEzDW8dddYZ55Jy5aBBWWgGpnVwkP2HVI920/s320/100_1151.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386268412041352498" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />"What you talkin' 'bout mama? No?"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEUkwgQg2i6GFu8BsOcSRiIESSz37V8r1AO9FH1Ymal1YyVQa7qAYuXpkg4umtgvweL77hFyjm6kKPeRYo342_1Isz6-oOWTx_1WP30HSzzqWTseG5nhU_CumWm7dLnitfarHMg4Jf6Bc/s1600-h/100_1144.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEUkwgQg2i6GFu8BsOcSRiIESSz37V8r1AO9FH1Ymal1YyVQa7qAYuXpkg4umtgvweL77hFyjm6kKPeRYo342_1Isz6-oOWTx_1WP30HSzzqWTseG5nhU_CumWm7dLnitfarHMg4Jf6Bc/s320/100_1144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386269129129442834" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />"Pleeeeeeeaaaaaassssse!!!!"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvDwx0d7FUp7I6p1_WMGftnQL9Esa4MqZRNdXMIrJO9ATxvFsYGW8q67jecLWcyJWe7GvoMF32NXv2xEQXRbMQjXmUtWMBa9X7BK2LdGfui4C9oTEvAYvkjFZV3Aic69NJu-8aAcYP2RU/s1600-h/100_1150.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 257px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvDwx0d7FUp7I6p1_WMGftnQL9Esa4MqZRNdXMIrJO9ATxvFsYGW8q67jecLWcyJWe7GvoMF32NXv2xEQXRbMQjXmUtWMBa9X7BK2LdGfui4C9oTEvAYvkjFZV3Aic69NJu-8aAcYP2RU/s320/100_1150.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386269637738257378" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />"BUT I REALLY WANT A POOOOONNNYYYYY!!!!!"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMyZH60bnuKIu3YKRyghk6cpdZH3mnhPuCMHN24CAJWC5nPKh0XWgyIZpJxeJszoY_feDGlY6apgxG2NE_qOml0vh5iG8nTSBPIewca1Pu4_8VXMAxnKcK1ldDjjLytAjYQ-IBmywdCpk/s1600-h/100_1143.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMyZH60bnuKIu3YKRyghk6cpdZH3mnhPuCMHN24CAJWC5nPKh0XWgyIZpJxeJszoY_feDGlY6apgxG2NE_qOml0vh5iG8nTSBPIewca1Pu4_8VXMAxnKcK1ldDjjLytAjYQ-IBmywdCpk/s320/100_1143.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386270199910117010" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />"Pretty please?"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinH_ntV9U1v0j_HvhpBGR1EA2wPRv2Dad-8B6q6UmQSHcbX1-82CXG7uMuMhXyKgTqEam-hCQpGUUg6Uoyn1eJSdcrfSBg_UeCmiyk4MR0f5xMGDboiCjCzxrZCy0NGXmecRAVekcmOco/s1600-h/100_1136.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinH_ntV9U1v0j_HvhpBGR1EA2wPRv2Dad-8B6q6UmQSHcbX1-82CXG7uMuMhXyKgTqEam-hCQpGUUg6Uoyn1eJSdcrfSBg_UeCmiyk4MR0f5xMGDboiCjCzxrZCy0NGXmecRAVekcmOco/s320/100_1136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386270812905802786" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />"With a cherry on top?"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOUydeQMDR0y-T8kX_7yzGYAHTCmAKpanrIzKLvf9soHli3Hjuyb4l1xUvwKhZNLmiuVyRb0Kad1kRADL7ASvKhuVQDcWGB4Ng25b-KHZkmgaUpRxdBPyFL6aQvpfeM12NFMcs0xl3ZHY/s1600-h/100_1142.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOUydeQMDR0y-T8kX_7yzGYAHTCmAKpanrIzKLvf9soHli3Hjuyb4l1xUvwKhZNLmiuVyRb0Kad1kRADL7ASvKhuVQDcWGB4Ng25b-KHZkmgaUpRxdBPyFL6aQvpfeM12NFMcs0xl3ZHY/s320/100_1142.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386271269345763154" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />"You're thinking about it...I can tell. I will wait patiently for your answer......"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-s_hmFqv4-EUkQVcuCXsXN3ewL7uR941kLX7tikq-HWhiAaihtnHvfgM8yQzlCkeaazqSofJ5mZ7Pdb9xD18DQWpCa59OQN4bYnIN3IGQfWn6ixx0dWR63wRz29zG6YoVSYV5yuT9mU/s1600-h/100_1138.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 310px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-s_hmFqv4-EUkQVcuCXsXN3ewL7uR941kLX7tikq-HWhiAaihtnHvfgM8yQzlCkeaazqSofJ5mZ7Pdb9xD18DQWpCa59OQN4bYnIN3IGQfWn6ixx0dWR63wRz29zG6YoVSYV5yuT9mU/s320/100_1138.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386271709069190722" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />"What? I <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">CAN</span> have the pony???"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicOGYqhc0C9eYPgeYvh7vliJq4pipLdmgSiU297YYaW_QwgewZdZ0ht63dgXoqAw-IIBQ0Ad8gXBanBV4Y0Ai5gI-S6cOD5RDRvld3kKkUJYryOeEZBRmmC3AwF39Fps2OjtGa1rQwlgw/s1600-h/100_1145.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicOGYqhc0C9eYPgeYvh7vliJq4pipLdmgSiU297YYaW_QwgewZdZ0ht63dgXoqAw-IIBQ0Ad8gXBanBV4Y0Ai5gI-S6cOD5RDRvld3kKkUJYryOeEZBRmmC3AwF39Fps2OjtGa1rQwlgw/s320/100_1145.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386272087604635218" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />"YAAAAAAYYYYYY!!!!!!"Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-516188474543993572009-09-23T08:13:00.004-05:002009-09-23T09:31:03.083-05:00Yo Mama Said WHAAAAAAATTTTTT????I don't participate in Wordless Wednesdays because I'm a writer, and if I don't have my words, well then what the hell DO I have? So with my middle finger raised high to Wordless Wednesday, I bring you MOUTHFULL OF WHATEVA WEDNESDAY!!!<br /><br />So....how many of you out there in bloggyland have a mother who used to say all kinds of weird things when they were mad at you? If your mom was anything like MY mom, you heard some of the most random crap in the world. Odds are you're using them on your own children now, even though you SWORE you never would! HA! SUCKERS!<br /><br />Well, I am going to share with you some of the things I heard growing up, and CAN'T WAIT to use on the munchkin....I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THE LOOK ON HER FACE WHEN I SAY:<br /><br />"DON'T SAY ANOTHER WORD! NOW DID YOU _____________?? ANSWER ME!"<br />*ummmm....didn't I just tell her not to say another word?*<br /><br />"I WILL SLAP THE BLACK OFF YOU!"<br />*I don't think that's actually possible, but when mom said it, I believed she would die trying. And then I'd be white. I always wondered if that would mean I would then have "white girl hair".*<br /><br />"DO YOU HAVE A BREATHING PROBLEM? LAST I CHECKED I WAS THE ONLY ONE WITH ASTHMA IN THIS HOUSE, BUT IF YOU KEEP IT UP I AM SURE WE CAN MAKE IT SO WE SHARE AN INHALER!"<br />*Damn. My mom was no joke. How the hell she came up with this one is BEYOND me.*<br /><br />"ROLL YOUR EYES AGAIN AND I PROMISE YOU I WILL ROLL THEM RIGHT OUT YA'HEAD!"<br />*I kid you not. She ACTUALLY said that. I don't think I even BLINKED for a week after that*<br /><br />"IF I HEAR YOU HOLLERIN' ONE MORE TIME I WILL BREAK YA'FACE!"<br />*This was actually started by my aunt. Because of her fierceness we actually believed she would do it. No one wants a broken face in the second grade.*<br /><br />So, these are the ones I can remember off the top of my head. My mom was an AWESOME mom - seriously - THE BEST!!! But when she meant business....well let's just say my mom didn't play. If she said "jump", you had better be lookin' for some pogo shoes because the words "how high" were just gonna get you the look of death for "gettin' smart". <br /><br />And how is it that moms can do that - give you that look that says "I swear to God if you move one more inch I am going to feed you to the sewer rats and feign ignorance when people ask for you". Will I learn to do that? Will I be good at giving "THE LOOK"?<br /><br />AND THE PINCH AND TWIST! <br /><br />Did anyone else's mom do this? I got this at church ALL THE TIME! And then she DARED me to make even ONE PEEP when it hurt. I always wanted to be like "He-llo! You're freakin' TWISTING MY SKIN OFF!! HOW THE 'F' AM I SUPPOSED TO STAY QUIET???". But remember that "break ya'face" line...yeah - I knew better.<br /><br />But here's how I knew I was really in trouble...and if you're Latina, I KNOW you can relate.....<br /><br />"ME CASO EN NA, CONIO! NO TE MUEVES Y NO TE HABLAS! SIENTATE AQUI! CARAJO!!!!"<br /><br />Translation:<br /><br />"You move or say another word and that's your ASS!"<br /><br />However, when it's said in spanish it sounds sooooo threatening. You wanna runto your nearest church and immediately beg for forgiveness of crap you have yet to do but know you WILL do, because you know what's coming.<br /><br />Ugh....childhood....I look back and laugh because I was actually a really good kid. All the stuff up there I probably only heard once in my life...but they made a lasting impression. In a good way. I'm thankful for all of those "mommy threats". They kept me in line. They ensured me that my mom was maybe just a little bit crazy.<br /><br />And every good mom knows that you want your kids to think you're just a little bit off. <br /><br />Just a little.<br /><br />Are you off? Was your mom? What kinds of things did YOUR mom holler across the house?Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-8635918070613898982009-09-22T13:07:00.011-05:002009-09-22T13:31:42.808-05:00Post-It Note Tuesdays - PLAY ALONG!<a href="http://supahmommy.blogspot.com/2009/09/post-it-note-tuesday-what-will-you-say.html"><img border="0" alt="" src="http://i148.photobucket.com/albums/s27/dperry_2007/superstickies-18-1.png" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTDhXGflDtryCVCWWxMNaSvZUAkl1QE0TZF6zwg5nsoiDrG-pZdp-Qb_tQo80ToiujlGwLa-dLmAYw8cxnbcOGCH2oruXiL02W98R2Rzoq7uv3bh0D19RK1rnd-lYkAyBmk4WyVE2nkkc/s1600-h/superstickies.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTDhXGflDtryCVCWWxMNaSvZUAkl1QE0TZF6zwg5nsoiDrG-pZdp-Qb_tQo80ToiujlGwLa-dLmAYw8cxnbcOGCH2oruXiL02W98R2Rzoq7uv3bh0D19RK1rnd-lYkAyBmk4WyVE2nkkc/s320/superstickies.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384355467837768162" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmO0j62EXngcXxxY1n5d2ZYg-_wsrOtzFZLEs757tbqmCOvbi0ysoVVCt5Wq6DVmvabz1ODHIYtC2vHYsurM_r_ulnJBodo_D6lG_9ZdtJCGVpWhT9_eQMKjhmxZoJKgAseNevou4BBg/s1600-h/superstickies(7).png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmO0j62EXngcXxxY1n5d2ZYg-_wsrOtzFZLEs757tbqmCOvbi0ysoVVCt5Wq6DVmvabz1ODHIYtC2vHYsurM_r_ulnJBodo_D6lG_9ZdtJCGVpWhT9_eQMKjhmxZoJKgAseNevou4BBg/s320/superstickies(7).png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384360072096367778" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_CZPw-Z2QyzPGbEKpfJZ88GOhBkFtOkFpJSA-73fyLQ9ydUBOXMsxWZ8FsG475GGbn0IDfc1h4FakCzvnEPmDeYzSKDm2iLOk4y8RLGbkYrj-RCnZTYuQ6RNMdHcsuuxbpIqO-jJ-yg/s1600-h/superstickies(8).png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_CZPw-Z2QyzPGbEKpfJZ88GOhBkFtOkFpJSA-73fyLQ9ydUBOXMsxWZ8FsG475GGbn0IDfc1h4FakCzvnEPmDeYzSKDm2iLOk4y8RLGbkYrj-RCnZTYuQ6RNMdHcsuuxbpIqO-jJ-yg/s320/superstickies(8).png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384360304835413042" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9R3z8MBsrKzv1hwF9uYtFmT2pFFmn3lfZFVLXbOxbOUvnpONDmgSjaCaYXJJr8_Z5k4zTwSHh5rt6le3J-MeI5TfzBWX9spliUFrGdfPT-phSk35SwdNPfJSJFHrPQzXQvGm_FYRgIU0/s1600-h/superstickies(9).png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9R3z8MBsrKzv1hwF9uYtFmT2pFFmn3lfZFVLXbOxbOUvnpONDmgSjaCaYXJJr8_Z5k4zTwSHh5rt6le3J-MeI5TfzBWX9spliUFrGdfPT-phSk35SwdNPfJSJFHrPQzXQvGm_FYRgIU0/s320/superstickies(9).png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384360528175690002" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4vJBpM5TmN1n_o6z16GzWLUlQd0kYCRaLH_nnzzj322FpFj09Xcr_ekkT_Ckd1ob6JECklW8LT4OXdWdZK10ZHZLy_l6XaljF8oKLReR9ND9tEyLSAK7X6yKikQwfDqJH7azBoGDaqg/s1600-h/superstickies(10).png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4vJBpM5TmN1n_o6z16GzWLUlQd0kYCRaLH_nnzzj322FpFj09Xcr_ekkT_Ckd1ob6JECklW8LT4OXdWdZK10ZHZLy_l6XaljF8oKLReR9ND9tEyLSAK7X6yKikQwfDqJH7azBoGDaqg/s320/superstickies(10).png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384360751825036002" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWXuDvUe-lHMojuMbNU97kIqLYiU7T9VO1Ffp2LXjDcsOD1cQai8fXmmqd6SGPBeN-NokxLWvZc3lLUg_vEo1LHO7QZRzhqh_mmGThzXE0EEolr3ybep76KZ1S2W5GQF-j9gKMqqbZXGQ/s1600-h/superstickies(6).png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWXuDvUe-lHMojuMbNU97kIqLYiU7T9VO1Ffp2LXjDcsOD1cQai8fXmmqd6SGPBeN-NokxLWvZc3lLUg_vEo1LHO7QZRzhqh_mmGThzXE0EEolr3ybep76KZ1S2W5GQF-j9gKMqqbZXGQ/s320/superstickies(6).png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384356719221299682" /></a>Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-37509771766766750992009-09-22T11:33:00.004-05:002009-09-22T12:41:23.681-05:00White Girl + Black Guy = Slap This Mama!I make no qualms about it - I'm a JAY-Z LOVIN' MAMA! I have loved him since <span style="font-style:italic;">Reasonable Doubt</span> and adore him today with his latest release <span style="font-style:italic;">The Blueprint 3</span>. When I was pregnant with my daughter, whenever a Jay-Z song would come on she would go nuts! Flippin', kickin', puinchin'...and I would just say "Go 'head little mama - NYC is in your blood!!" She still gets VERY excited when we play Jay-Z in the house now. It's pretty cute. <br /><br />*And for you squares...no I don't play L'il Wayne and all that other crap for her. Jay-Z is relevant to who I am and where I've been and as long as I'M OK with it, she can hear it. AND DON'T PRETEND THAT YOU DON'T WANT TO BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT WHEN YOUR KID ASKS YOU TO PLAY DISNEY SING-ALONGS IN THE CAR FOR THE 15,569th TIME - 'CUZ YOU KNOW YOU DO!*<br /><br />Ok...back to my post. <br /><br />I also make no qualms about the fact that I LOVE ME SOME <a href="http://supahmommy.blogspot.com">SUPAHMOMMY</a>!!! She has quickly become a girlfriend, a confidante, and a voice of reason and sanity. (I know - who would've put Supah and sanity in the same sentence, right?) If you haven't caught up on Supah's posts, my little one loves her too. <a href="http://supahmommy.blogspot.com/2009/09/out-of-mouth-of-babes.html">SEE</a>? Yup...that's my munchkin reading Supah's blog. Who needs the Wall Street Journal???<br /><br />*And again, for you squares...no, I don't read <span style="font-style:italic;">Cosmo</span> to her either. Supah is relevant to who I am and where I've been and as long as I'M OK with it, she can read it. AND DON'T PRETEND THAT YOU DON'T WANT TO BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT WHEN YOUR KID ASKS YOU TO READ <span style="font-style:italic;">DANNY AND THE DINOSAUR </span>FOR THE 15,569th TIME - 'CUZ YOU KNOW YOU DO!*<br /><br />So, I'm sure you're wondering why I am waxing poetic over a white girl in Philly and a black guy from Brooklyn. Supah, I KNOW you are!<br /><br />I am doing so because they both verbally kicked my ass in THE VERY SAME DAY.<br /><br />During one of my mommy moments I was saying to S that my munchkin would never be a ballerina because of her gimp arm (she has Erb's palsy in her left arm). And this is what my dear S said to me:<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />"and your daughter can be anything she sets her heart to..<br /><br />challenged arm or not..<br />she'll be a beautiful person because she has a mother like you... and she will inspire you one day when she dances in a production..." </span><br /><br />So after I wiped my stupid tears away, I hopped in my car to get a much needed Diet Coke thinking: <br /><br />"Ugh - she is so right. I hate it when other people are right. Damn."<br /><br />Then I turned on the radio and my new Jay-Z cd was in - AND GUESS WHAT TRACK WAS PLAYING??? <br /><br />so ambitious<br /><br />AND GUESS WHAT PART OF THE SONG IT JUST HAPPENED TO BE ON???<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />"the motivation for me, is them tellin' me what I could not be. oh well. I'm so ambitious"</span><br /><br />O.M.G. <br /><br />Could they have slapped me in the face any harder?? If her arm doesn't get any better in her lifetime people will ALWAYS be trying to put limits on her, telling her what she CAN'T DO...who she CAN'T BE. How DARE I be the one to start the chorus?? WHAT THE HELL IS MY PROBLEM???<br /><br />My girl is sooo gonna rock! She will probably dance circles around me - and I can't wait until the day she comes home and tells me she slapped a boy for pulling her pigtails. That will be a LEFT HAND HI-FIVE for the ages!!!<br /><br />So my love for Supah and Jay-Z grow deeper - for in their own little ways, they have awakened me to the endless possibilities of the munchkin. They are forever bonded. For me at least.Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-77096607153640361082009-09-18T13:36:00.009-05:002009-09-18T17:31:52.607-05:00My Unlikely, Yet Blessed Anniversary365 days ago today my world was changed FOREVER.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3MOfzXWrcKbNW_xaGRkqaAQ38fh3gDqdHaoEaxgLW_7FvglRMkdUy8aFaiUd-BHQ971vscZJx7EPTVz79_8RuCjwiD4wbEynuZj5eP_eIHPWRUikUfv6iVhHPRy4SvCMzg7mwZrEHyQM/s1600-h/100_1007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3MOfzXWrcKbNW_xaGRkqaAQ38fh3gDqdHaoEaxgLW_7FvglRMkdUy8aFaiUd-BHQ971vscZJx7EPTVz79_8RuCjwiD4wbEynuZj5eP_eIHPWRUikUfv6iVhHPRy4SvCMzg7mwZrEHyQM/s320/100_1007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382892410276320082" border="0"></a><br /><br />Looks like my uterus grew a penis, right? That was actually what I said to my OB when she showed me the picture. But alas, I was not growing boy parts on my insides - that was my kid. You are looking at my very first ultrasound picture. God had put his thumbprint on my womb and I was with child. If you've read <a href="http://spitupissexy.blogspot.com/2009/07/and-then-god-laughedthe-breaking-of.html">"And Then God Laughed"</a>, then you know I had less than planned for this, and was shocked - to say the least. However, once the dust settled I realized that my dream had come true. Literally and figuratively. About 6 years ago I actually had a dream about my daughter; saw her face and everything. So though I wasn't prepared, I was ready. But a few short weeks later everything came to a screeching halt.<br /><br />I started spotting.<br /><br />I called my doctor immediately who told me to come in as soon as I could. I drove like a bat out of hell to meet my honey so he could drive the rest of the way to her office. She examined me and said it was most likely the beginning of a miscarriage, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. My body had to run its course. She sent me home and ordered me to stay there for the next few days. Broken hearted and filled with an unexplainable grief, we drove home in complete silence. I had never inhaled air that thick in my life. Sadness filled my nostrils with every.single.breath. I went home and waited. It's the weirdest feeling, and I'm going to put it the best way I know how. And I apologize now if it's too blunt for some readers, but this is how it felt for me:<br /><br />My doctor sent me home to <font style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">feel<font></font></font> a prolonged death.<br /><br />That's honestly how I felt about the whole thing. I was angry and sad and confused and every other adjective they teach you for "sad" in elementary school. So I sat. And I waited. I went to bed not knowing if the morning would greet me with more death or not. Before I closed my eyes I had a small conversation with the little person I was attempting to grow and told her that she had a job to do in there, and it was to hold on tight and be strong. I told her I would handle business in the outside world but she HAD to handle business in there. Then I closed my eyes and prayed for the best.<br /><br />The next day came and at first I thought perhaps we were in the clear - the spotting had ceased and I felt pretty okay. It wasn't until that afternoon that I felt my luck might really be running out.<br /><br />I was now bleeding. Not spotting. Bleeding.<br /><br />Once again I rushed to the hospital and kind of braced myself for the D&C my doctor had explained would be necessary. Death was at my baby's door. I remember thinking "this is the most UN-FAIR moment of my life". A few things happened before I actually saw my doctor, and I'm not going to go too far into it except to say that at one point I was surrounded by a flurry of nurses and I think I screamed and my honey caught me. The next thing I remember is my doctor coming in and saying she was sorry, and that as part of procedure she had to scope me to make sure everything came out. Silence. And then, this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3oZ6jM2VzF0Wdvij5JZo6eQaMSAGTndJG3HCnz9VcMkppbe5pDJDPto1pevoox9qw_25HQupmz9YTc0_62RD7WL1npjroMaQwRw4VulFjKX0G0a9oWlEYAEBX9fUZeoOqyVEpRS733c/s1600-h/100_1011.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 190px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3oZ6jM2VzF0Wdvij5JZo6eQaMSAGTndJG3HCnz9VcMkppbe5pDJDPto1pevoox9qw_25HQupmz9YTc0_62RD7WL1npjroMaQwRw4VulFjKX0G0a9oWlEYAEBX9fUZeoOqyVEpRS733c/s320/100_1011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382922527071952434" border="0"></a><br /><br />No, it's not a kewpie doll. That's my daughter. Somehow through all that chaos she managed to do just what I had asked her to do. She held on. The doctor showed me her heart beating ever so rapidly and we joked about how she had never seen such a formed figure on her ultrasound machine before.<br /><br />I like to think it was my daughters way of letting us know in no uncertain terms that she wasn't going anywhere.<br /><br />Due to the chaos that had just ensued, my doctor decided to err on the side of caution and put me on bed rest for the remainder of my first trimester. Not easy for a girl who likes to think she's got a bigger planner than Oprah. But for my daughter, I rested.<br /><br />As time went on we saw this:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2U6pKu4ahkhyejYqk1mhSt_bEfPPd0nlm8EwHcNImSNSDbKtVdWKrzrwkoaY12aP5a6RqNa9V9vowCuBffc7okIZAhGA-sPJuzTsIa6-PlHp4-wroq4iqCxe6g_JQfCGBulRE18Fs28/s1600-h/100_1013.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2U6pKu4ahkhyejYqk1mhSt_bEfPPd0nlm8EwHcNImSNSDbKtVdWKrzrwkoaY12aP5a6RqNa9V9vowCuBffc7okIZAhGA-sPJuzTsIa6-PlHp4-wroq4iqCxe6g_JQfCGBulRE18Fs28/s320/100_1013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382924364640009986" border="0"></a><font size="1">(remember my dream?)<br /></font><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><br /><br />And then this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeNqAKPd1GY7NIppDmbTUeGkpwywhp86aiC4KG4oULdICZIW7IMpmROWGEyi_x0K38rkEaUjZHoWKlGG5JEZlpqZo9KXY8MYF9dNhI6kPxBDPEB1qBX5hnyqoPTgi6G6_RQ3IOf_itKxQ/s1600-h/100_1016.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 232px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeNqAKPd1GY7NIppDmbTUeGkpwywhp86aiC4KG4oULdICZIW7IMpmROWGEyi_x0K38rkEaUjZHoWKlGG5JEZlpqZo9KXY8MYF9dNhI6kPxBDPEB1qBX5hnyqoPTgi6G6_RQ3IOf_itKxQ/s320/100_1016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382925198865908594" border="0"></a><br /><br />And finally, this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs58qbbc4dL1TVVIIDsOnDbXv0b1EoGr1m8uBixiqrbC_AT4xsQKp3uQP-Gc-vkJ0qlMmSIGJoGRn9M62WrqGtJeqscCo2Sm9c4bi3d1eB-fOAan5oTJeQLB5mGJfb1ZptV4ePYJD7lz4/s1600-h/100_0494.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs58qbbc4dL1TVVIIDsOnDbXv0b1EoGr1m8uBixiqrbC_AT4xsQKp3uQP-Gc-vkJ0qlMmSIGJoGRn9M62WrqGtJeqscCo2Sm9c4bi3d1eB-fOAan5oTJeQLB5mGJfb1ZptV4ePYJD7lz4/s320/100_0494.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382926362094578898" border="0"></a><br /><br />Now, I'm not going to say that my pregnancy was smooth sailing after that huge ordeal. I had bouts of terrible heartburn, to where I felt like someone had lit a pilot light in the back of my throat. At seven months I had to kiss my heels goodbye, for my once pretty little toes had been replaced by Hobbit feet. Through out my entire third trimester I felt like my vagina was lifting 50 pound weights. I wish I could make that last one up but it's true. My entire pelvic region was having a major anxiety attack. I jokingly referred to it as ETSD - Early Traumatic Stress Disorder. I couldn't complain too much though, because it was all just a reminder that I still had something so precious inside of me, gearing up to grace the world with her presence.<br /><br />So, 365 days ago I had <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3MOfzXWrcKbNW_xaGRkqaAQ38fh3gDqdHaoEaxgLW_7FvglRMkdUy8aFaiUd-BHQ971vscZJx7EPTVz79_8RuCjwiD4wbEynuZj5eP_eIHPWRUikUfv6iVhHPRy4SvCMzg7mwZrEHyQM/s1600-h/100_1007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3MOfzXWrcKbNW_xaGRkqaAQ38fh3gDqdHaoEaxgLW_7FvglRMkdUy8aFaiUd-BHQ971vscZJx7EPTVz79_8RuCjwiD4wbEynuZj5eP_eIHPWRUikUfv6iVhHPRy4SvCMzg7mwZrEHyQM/s320/100_1007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382892410276320082" border="0"></a> <br /><br />and today I have<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuSyuEbOneGs1d-RYqjXFaOR8nCQxxmCXGT993b1nM3CMqVvpzqPLlEZW_EMy_9_HAlaV5TcIiot-Bxz2Eq9dqNAKrBnDzWX9kHF6UgEgsSRVl0ZoFu6YLCuwEIW7DCI4Ix_O9R_hkqE/s1600-h/100_0924.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuSyuEbOneGs1d-RYqjXFaOR8nCQxxmCXGT993b1nM3CMqVvpzqPLlEZW_EMy_9_HAlaV5TcIiot-Bxz2Eq9dqNAKrBnDzWX9kHF6UgEgsSRVl0ZoFu6YLCuwEIW7DCI4Ix_O9R_hkqE/s320/100_0924.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382937650200491762" /></a><br /><br /><br />Never underestimate the difference a year can make.Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-52917301327996994622009-09-15T20:22:00.003-05:002009-09-15T20:36:11.693-05:00Perception is Not Always RealityThat One Girl: <span style="font-style:italic;">On a scale of 1-10, 10 being you're absolutely sure you want to marry me and spend the rest of your life with me (as you've stated in the past), where do you fall?<br /></span><br />Him: <span style="font-style:italic;">8</span><br /><br />That One Girl: <span style="font-style:italic;">Huh?</span><br /><br />Him: <span style="font-style:italic;">Huh?</span><br /><br />That One Girl: <span style="font-style:italic;">Did you say 8?<br /></span><br />Him: <span style="font-style:italic;">Yeah.</span><br /><br />That One Girl: <span style="font-style:italic;">Oh.</span><br /><br />Him: <span style="font-style:italic;">What? Is that bad?</span><br /><br />That One Girl: <span style="font-style:italic;">It's your answer.</span><br /><br />That One Girl promptly moves "ring with diamonds" given last Christmas to right hand and closes Kleinfeld.com website. <br /><br />Thinks to self "time to readjust thinking because apparently I have forgotten, nothing is quite as it seems"Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-36918309261768823102009-09-15T07:44:00.006-05:002009-09-15T08:33:32.111-05:00Where's Oda Mae and Her Magic Closet When You Need Her?If you are a woman, and you are breathing, I think I may be spot on in saying that at some point and time in your life you had a crush on Patrick Swayze. Black, White, Asian, Latina, 6 years old or 75 years old and using a walker, admitted OUT LOUD, or held in the confines of your "kissing pillow" - you had a mad crush on the man. <br /><br />And honestly, how could you not? Those piercing eyes, the cleft in the chin, the swaying hips - OH MY GOD! I'm getting all hot and bothered right now just <span style="font-style:italic;">listing</span> those things. The man single-handedly revitalized the formal dance class studio, AND had kilns working overtime all over the world! I mean c'mon - after seeing Ghost, what woman didn't turn to her husband/boyfriend/lover and say "Honey, we are signing up for a pottery class TO-MOR-ROW" ? <br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xhFdhfwRVhQ&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xhFdhfwRVhQ&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Hell, I was in high school and after seeing it attempted to recreate the scene with my high school sweetheart (no, I wasn't a fast-ass, I was a teenage girl "in love", with hormones - and just so you know - yes, I would snatch Emory BALD if I EVER found out she did some of the crap I did as a teenager - INCLUDING recreating movie love scenes). But I actually broke out my childhood pottery wheel and tried to make it work. Yeah. Not so much. Decided to try with Play-Doh instead. Yeah ummmmm, remember how your mom always said "make sure you don't get the Play-Doh on the carpet"? Well, let's just say I found out the hard way why she said that. <br /><br />But seriously though, Swayze took us ladies to another place. He gave so much of himself to his characters that we actually <span style="font-style:italic;">believed</span> we could have what they were having. <br /><br />Hands up. How many of us tried the lift scene from Dirty Dancing? How many? I did. Sure did. Except I wasn't smart enough to try it in a pool and when my cousin dropped me on the hardwood floor, I bruised a rib and busted my lip. BUT, P. Swayze made me <span style="font-style:italic;">believe</span> I could do it. And I <span style="font-weight:bold;">did</span> do it - ten years later after some serious ballet classes and lots of practice. And I felt what Baby felt. Free. Light. Sexy. Fabulous. That was him. As a woman, he made us feel. Even if our significant others sat on the couch day in and day out, scratching Lord knows where with God knows what, for that short period in time we believed that they had the potential to be the Johnny to our Baby...or the Sam to our Molly. He ensured us that our awkwardness is what made us sexy, and the openness of our hearts is what made us human. <br /><br />For these things, I will forever openly admit my crush on Patrick Swayze. <br /><br />He rests in peace, and lifts me in my dreams.Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2173768178144345607.post-18551125510566496162009-09-14T05:15:00.004-05:002009-09-14T05:54:34.080-05:00MeMe Monday - oh Supah Supah Supah.......Oh the scandal scandal SCANDAL I am about to unleash by participating in MeMe Monday TODAY!!! The topic - 5 white lies you have told....ugh...I am so done for....Okay...<br />btw - <a href="http://www.supahmommy.blogspot.com/">Supah</a>, you owe me for this one...lmao!<br /><br />1. <span style="font-style:italic;">To college boyfriend - "Oh my god Yes! Yes! That is sooo it! You're so workin it! Oh my god I'm almost there...yes yes YES!!!!"<br /></span><br />- yep, you guessed it. I FAKED IT - BIG TIME (and many times)! I was young and didn't want to hurt his fragile college boy ego. He really thought he was doin' somethin' and I just wanted it to be OVER, so yes. I faked it. And I'm damn glad I did because when I wrote "The Bad Girl's Guide To Faking A Good One" for my creative writing class, I totally got an A+ on that junk!<br /><br />2. <span style="font-style:italic;">To cop - "Yes sir, I know I was speeding. I am on my way to an emergency appointment with my Obstetrician."</span><br /><br />- this was a bad lie to tell, and I immediately felt horrible for it and asked for forgiveness....but I really couldn't afford a ticket at the time...and I was obviously pregnant - so I used it to my advantage. Bad, I know.<br /><br />3. <span style="font-style:italic;">To family - "I'm dating the most AWESOME guy!"</span><br /><br />- I was dating my vibrator. Which <span style="font-weight:bold;">was<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> pretty damn awesome, and I had named him - so does it really count as a lie? <br /><br />4. <span style="font-style:italic;">To self - "You'll get back in those size 14's in NO TIME!"</span><br /><br />- Four months later I have yet to stop buying the mini Haagen Dazs cups from Kroger... but damn them for making them 10 for $10!<br /><br />5. <span style="font-style:italic;">To Honey - "The kids must have found your secret stash of Mike n Ike's, Lemonheads, Lifesavers, AND Laffy Taffy! You should do something about that."</span><br /><br />-Yes. I sacrificed my stepkids for some damn candy. I consider it payback for all the hell they've given me from day one. <br /><br />So there ya have it - now that I have secured my spot in purgatory, I will go redeem myself in yet ANOTHER mini ice cream cup. 14 shmourteen....I'm HOT! <br /><br />Ah damn - it was just 5 white lies RIGHT?!Adiba Nelson, Author/Blogger/Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11370480785423969703noreply@blogger.com14