Tarot Card (Thanks Michell!)

You are The Lovers

Motive, power, and action, arising from Inspiration and Impulse.

The Lovers represents intuition and inspiration. Very often a choice needs to be made.

Originally, this card was called just LOVE. And that's actually more apt than "Lovers." Love follows in this sequence of growth and maturity. And, coming after the Emperor, who is about control, it is a radical change in perspective. LOVE is a force that makes you choose and decide for reasons you often can't understand; it makes you surrender control to a higher power. And that is what this card is all about. Finding something or someone who is so much a part of yourself, so perfectly attuned to you and you to them, that you cannot, dare not resist*. This card indicates that the you have or will come across a person, career, challenge or thing that you will fall in love with. You will know instinctively that you must have this, even if it means diverging from your chosen path. No matter the difficulties, without it you will never be complete*.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

*That'd be all about my Big J, y'all!

All Hail Friday Mish Mash

I saw an ad online encouraging you to speak to your children now about underage drinking. There is a little girl in the ad, approximately 11 or 12 with braided piggy-tails staring off into space as she stirs her martini with her toothpick of olives. Believe me when I say that underage drinking is a major problem. But a martini? Don't you think a can of Natural Light or a bottle of Boone's Farm would be a little more the pre-teens speed for their drink of choice? Is this kid from Manhattan? In Faux-British accent: "Oh father wont mind of I borrow a sip or two of his Beefeater will he mother?"

Happy Haiku Friday to everyone-

(Click the picture above to visit more Haiku Friday players!)

Sleepwalking husband

Just trying to save the baby

Come back to bed dork

~*~

Late night hootie owl

Better than the goat noises

Only wanted sleep

~*~

CSI:Vegas

Grissom you are a hot nerd

Got a thing for you

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

RPNC weigh-in: 190.5 -- not bad for someone who had a bag of candy for breakfast (but it was a small bag!).

Ava has a doctor appointment in Atlanta today. We are going to speak to a plastic surgeon about removing her skin tags on her ear. Although, we've decided that we are not going to remove the tags UNLESS they are interfering with her hearing (which they are not) or there is a specific advantage to doing this procedure now instead of letting her make the decision later. They are a part of her identity, they are a part of the special little baby we love so much. They are something I would totally pierce if they were mine!

Of course, the only real reason we are going is if we don't get the referral from the insurance company now and complete all the rigmarole they set forth, then they will give us the poo-poo face at the doctor's office and the insurance company. So, hold that hoop steady cause here I come!

And did you know that there is only ONE pediatric certified plastic surgeon within 100 miles of where I live? I guess there isn't much call for toddler cheek implants and baby-botox these days. What is the world coming to?

--The Milk Maid says goobeldy goop and chimichurri.

If You Aren't Dead, I'm Killing You!

That's what I was yelling at the goats as I stood on my back deck at 4:15 this morning (completely naked). Perhaps something had scared the goats and they were emitting awful goat-screams to voice their fear. Maybe the stupid one (wait, they are both stupid) got her head stuck in the fence and was calling for backup. I'm not sure what was going on, but by the time I got up and walked out to check on them, they were playing and frolicking and butting heads. The llama looked on, shameful of his pasture mates.

Anybody want a free goat or two?

Doggone That Oprah

(This post mentions SEX... if hearing that a married couple has sex bothers you, then please go look at this website about drug rehabilitation and tune in again tomorrow.)

About 6 months or so ago Jef and I watched a segment of Oprah with her pal Dr. Mehmet Oz. This guy has tons of healthy do's and don'ts... including a fascinating fact that for "every twenty pounds an obese man loses, his penis will 'grow' approximately an inch in length". After we got our grins and giggles about that little fact out of our system, I don't recall this fact coming up in our household again after that day.


Until two days ago...


You see, without being too crude, we've kept a running joke about the "Mystical and Illusive Sex-Trifecta" (That's a romp on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday... in case you were wondering). We've had some *magic* in the air as of late, and we've made the Friday/Saturday combo a lot, but usually by the time Sunday rolled around we were to pooped to pop. However, this weekend we managed a real live Sex Trifecta. And then we added a Monday on too, just for good measure.


All four nights were enjoyable. Like- "Whew! We've gotta stop this or one of us will fall over dead!" enjoyable. I mentioned to Jef on Saturday night that he was awfully, um... let's just say there was a little more length down there as of late than I remembered. In fact, there was such a noticeable difference "down there" that I was to the point of telling Jef on Sunday night to hurry up and finish, because I was uncomfortable. On Monday night, all bets were off. My girl-stuff was sore. I told him he'd better make it a quickie and go to sleep. Tuesday night, when Jef rolled over and started to breathe heavily in my ear I said, "Shoo-shoo, go to sleep. I'm asleep already. Hear me snoring? ZZzzzzz!".


Note to Jef:
No, you have not gained 2 full inches of length on Mr. Happy. Yes, he's noticeably longer, but don't get a big head, er-- large ego-- about all this. Just because I squeal doesn't necessarily mean that it is with delight. My cervix is pissed off at you right now. My uterus will not grow you another baby until you stop poking it so hard and making it say OUCH. Oh, and PS- stop squeezing my boobs so hard too. They get enough of that junk from Ava.

Things Moms Might Say

You might be a mother if you've ever uttered the following phrases:

1. No no no no no no no no noooo! Whatever it is, don't throw it in the toilet.
2. Give me back my bra!
3. That's not a Q-tip!
4. I didn't know that cats ate plastic.
5. Wave, wave at grandpa. Wave... wave now! Wave!
6. Don't wave at the scary person! Stop waving at them right now!
7. Don't eat that _____! (Pick from the following: Tape, pen cap, cat hair, rotten fruit, rope, metal shaving, paper cup, bath towel, telephone battery, etc.)

--The Milk Maid says no no no a lot.

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The Can-Can Dance

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Party Pictures

Jef and his dad, hanging out in the shade.


My dad and Jef's sister (Deby) talking about cars.


My aunts: Shirley and Sue (Sue is my nuther-muther aunt who rocks the house, FYI!)


Y'all know this smiley fella... isn't he just handsome!


Ava and dada opening gifts... this is a Heffalump and a "vintage style" pull toy.


Ava's first taste of cake... she was a little lady and gently dabbed a bit of frosting off the top to taste her cake...


"Hey- that's some good stuff!"


Because "cake up to your armpits" sounds like so much fun!


She kept pointing and trying to tell us how great the cake was!


Ava called her Aunt Deby over for a little help (Deby is the aunt that Ava shares a birthday with!)


Calling for sissy Faith to come over...


...And have a BIG BITE sissy!


Faith acted all "grossed out", but I think she really dug getting frosted!


Now THAT is the way to eat cake!


"You missed a spot!"


Ava says, "Stick with me Faith- I'll take you places, kiddo!"



The two sweetest sisters I know! If you look closely, Ava is dropping a wad of cake down the back of Faith's shirt.


Big people cake... er, cupcakes. Actually, they call it a "pull apart" cake. It was tasty whatever you call it!

To My Preggo and Soon to Be Preggo Pals:

One of you must have a boy, because I MUST buy you these:

The Pee-Pee TeePee (for the sprinkling wee-wee).

The "I'm Not Missing" Friday Mish Mash

It's been a busy day so far... my dad decided to take me shopping for Christmas ornaments. Before you scratch your head raw over that one-- he is looking for wholesale ornaments for a large company for their employee Christmas gift. So, since the place he was going to was close by he invited me (because I have style and taste and artistic sensibility and all that other baloney he doesn't have).

We didn't find anything useful as far as the ornaments went, however we did find this:

The Kung Fu Hamster (He sings Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting! and his nun chucks spin!)

In Ava news: Ava is walking all over the place these days. She moves a lot like Godzilla did with that stiff-legged, back and forth gate. She also growls a lot when she walks, which really pulls off the effect!

RPNC Weigh In: You gotta be joking, right? Maybe next week!

Apparently, people other than my loyal friends and followers really do read this blog (when I say followers it makes me sound like I lead a cult or something, doesn't it?). Jennifer "The Binky Bitch" at Playgroups are no place for children thinks I'm a pretty neat read! She has awarded me with THIS fine award:

I am truly humbled. Well, if humbled means that "my head is like thiiiiiiis big, dude!" then I am humbled. Nonetheless, check her out... she's funny, witty, smart, pretty. My gosh she's just like me!

Before the doo-doo get too deep in here let's change topics!...

I'm having a debate with Ava's doctor. No, I am not at a podium giving the pros of joining The Dark Side as lady doc flails her arms about trying to sway people to run to the light (that's Jedi humor, people). She says at 20+ lbs one should turn the car seat to forward facing. However the manufacturer (Britax) says: Rear-facing from 5 to 33 pounds or children forward-facing from 1 year old and 20 to 65 pounds. So, what would YOU suggest? Isn't it safer for children to stay rear facing as long as possible, or did I dream that somewhere?

And last, a little Haiku Friday (go here to sign Mr. Linky join the fun too!):

Riding with my dad-

Fast car, he can't see for crap.

Please stop, I'll puke now.

--The Milk Maid says imitation is the finest form of flattery

Ava's 1 Year Checkup

The results are in and the weigh-in complete:

21lbs 11oz and 31" tall...

And if Jef hadn't fed Ava corn on the cob last night which caused a 3 pound POOP this morning, no telling what she would have tipped the scales at!



The doctor was very impressed with her growth, her motor skills, her climbing skills, and most of all her vocabulary. Ava's first words to the doctor were, "Hey kitty!". Ava also tried to yank all the paper off the exam table, stick the nurse in the eye with a tongue depressor, and run off down the hallway in nothing but a diaper. All in all, a very typical day in the life of Ava!

Ava got 3 shots- MMR, TB, and Hep A... they were out of the chicken pox vaccine, so we have to go beck next week (thrilling!). Also, we got a referral to a plastic surgeon to take a look at removing Ava's skin tags (in Atlanta, of freakin' course because aparantly we don't have that kind of technology here). We still aren't certain we want them removed quite yet. Gosh darn it they are adorable! They are a part of who my little pee-wee is! Sure, some kid will make fun of her one day, but I really think Ava is going to have no problem in socking the crap out of any smart mouth out there. She decked her 3 year old cousin Dawson yesterday when he took a toy away from her- imagine what she'll do when she has a little martial arts training under her belt!!


--The Milk Maid says light as a feather, stiff as a board!

And check out this nifty ad for human resources software

Happy Birthday Ava!

I tucked a baby in to bed last night, knowing that she would wake up a big girl this morning.

I sat on the couch and cried for a little while last night... I was sad my baby was growing up so fast. I was happy at how wonderful a daughter I have and how incredibly blessed I am as a mother. I cried for my friends still waiting to get their BFP. I cried for my newly pregnant pals, knowing how much their lives will change (for the better) in the near future. And of course I cried for all the moms out there- knowing they too have either shed the same tears, or would shed them very soon.

I woke up this morning, walked into Ava's room as she was still sleeping, and just I just watched her sleep. I sent my thanks to the heavens above, woke the Sleeping Beauty, and we haven't slowed down yet!

Without further adieu... HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY AVA!!!!



Fun to be one!




The dress Ava is wearing was mine... Faith also had her 1st birthday photos made in the same dress. If the next baby is a boy, I guess he's gonna have to wear it too.


Avs took the baseball from the photographer... and decided not to part with it (I had to toss it back to the cashier as we were leaving!).


All dressed up and on the go!

Sweet little Ava!


Awww... I love you Ava Helene!

--The Milk Maid loves Baby Milk-Face!

Because sucking up to your aunt is a good start...

Ava was born on her aunt Deby's birthday- September 19th.

Deby is Jef's older (but not oldest) sister. We really like Deby and her husband, Mike. On a side note, Mike was Jef's best bud in high school and beyond, and he met Deby thru Jef, and the rest sort of tumbled into place.

So, when we were sitting around joking on the night of September 18th of last year that "it would be a HOOT for Ava to be born on Deby's birthday", we never really thought it would be more than a joke. Until we went to bed at 10:45 and my water broke.

Let me just say that I know less than 10% of women will have their water break, and if it does break it's usually a trickle, and blah blah blah. Ava did not get this memo. My water broke with an audible POP and flooded the bed.

Of course, I lost about 100,000 brain cells at that precise moment. All I could mutter was, "I think my water broke(?)" and Jef kept giving me this puzzled look like, "Whaaat?". And because of the fact that neither of us could think any more, I dialed up the on-call midwife who laughed at me as she said, "Yes that does mean come to the hospital".

I took a shower, Jef took a shower, I called Tracey, I posted on a few message boards. I called my parents and had dad come get Faith. I walked up and down the stairs 4 or 5 times. I made sure everything was packed. I looked for a pencil, because I wasn't sure I had packed one (don't know what in the world I was going to DO with said pencil, but I had to have it!).

Finally, at 11:15pm we pulled out of the driveway. Still no contractions. I thought- great this is gonna be a looooong nite. A few miles up the road I made Jef stop at a convenience store and buy me a bottle of water (I knew they wouldn't let me have anything once we got to the hospital and I was DYING of THIRST). So, Jef walks into the store, peruses the water isle checking out every single brand to assure the bottle he purchased for his wife was The Best. That was about 11:45pm. That us when my contractions started at 2 minutes apart. That is when I started thinking, "Oh shit- we gotta GO!".

Finally, finally, finally- after an eternity!!- Jef gets back in the car, I tell him We Gotta Go! and off we zoom up the deserted highway.

After he got us lost in a dead end parking deck, and after we have a nice discussion that resolved with, "I will not be dropped off at the door while you park, I will have this baby in the parking lot before we are separated!" we finally made it to the ER check in where they wanted to ask me 47 different questions like my name, and all kinds of stupid things that could wait!

Finally, at sometime after midnight, they wheeled me into an observation room. They checked my cervix which was at 3, hooked me up to some silly machine, and left me and Jef with the instructions of, "When the contractions reach to this level (pointing to machine) then call us".

Two minutes later: I made Jef call them. They came back (reluctantly) and checked me again. I was at 7. They started to believe what I was saying about the whole I am having this baby NOW thing.

At a little after 12:45 I was poked into a suite and an IV was ran. Jef has said to this day how nice I was in the delivery room... and I really was. Because I know a secret. Do you want to know the secret? If you are nice to your nurses, they will be nice to YOU (I bet Michell knew that secret already!). There might be an extra pillow needed, or some other item you must acquire. If you are really nice to them, you have a better chance at getting it. Also, these women will be checking you for dilation. And you don't want someone to do that all pissed off.

At 1:00am I told the nurse I really wanted to push. She told me to wait and she'd check me. I told her (nicely) to hurry because I was going to push anyway and there wasn't much she could do to stop me, as I had very little control of it myself. She checked me, I was at 10. She said to wait for the midwife. I reminded her of the fact that I was on auto-pilot.

Six (half-assed) pushes later, Ava crowns and the whole room (minus me, who was a little pre-occupied at the time) erupts into cheers at The Head Full Of Hair That Ava Has! One more slight push and there was my baby. And my GAWD look at the hair! Ava was born at 1:09am.

The whole previous nine months faded away, and I was completely and totally in the moment of this new life.

Her face and eyes were puffy and bruised from entering the world at a sprinter's pace. She didn't have any eye lashes or a whole lot of eye brows, but I didn't care. She had 2 funny looking skin tags on one ear, which I immediately fell in love with and kissed.

Jef melted into a massive pile of daddy-goo on the floor. He's a big softie anyway, but there was his baby. He'd not gotten to see Paige be born (via c-section) so this was his first experience at all this jazz. I remember him holding her for the first time, and I will never ever forget the look of absolute contentment on his face, and the feeling of absolute contentment in my heart.

Jef went to the nursery with Ava to take photos as she got her first bath and got measured and poked and prodded. I was left alone in the room to sleep.

I couldn't sleep. I was too excited!


Gotta love a thumb sucker.


Let me go- waaah!


Big Daddy J and little Ava.

--The Milk Maid says the calendar lies... it can't be a year already!

Tune in tomorrow for HAPPY BIRTHDAY AVA, complete with NEW photos and real time commentary (sort of).

Brought to you by our fine sponsor: reception desks

The Outing

Why I (normally) refuse to shop (or do anything) with my mother:

I was having a good morning until my mother decides to take me shopping at The Ungodly Large Proportion Mart. Once there, she wouldn't lead the way in the store... she'd be like go to this item.

I would tell her - I don't know where that item is located. She'd point and make a sour face then get mad at me, because apparently I should have the exact GPS position of every item in every store (whether I shop there or not) permanently etched into my brain. I'd wander trying to find whatever we were looking for and she was NO help. Unless you count the glaring at me as help.

Halfway through the store, she told me to get milk. I asked ,"What Kind?" to which she replied "There are no brands- just get the 2%". So I get the 2% milk with the best date on it. Of course when we get to the register it's the wrong brand. And the jug is dirty. And she wont buy it. And she makes a scene and acts an ass in front of 47 people.

So I told the checkout guy she was only doing that because I picked out the milk, and just to ignore her because she couldn't behave in public.

I don't know why she quit talking to me.

Good Monday

At least I hope it's a good Monday. At the very least it will be a busy Monday... I've already gotten Faith dressed up for school pictures, dropped her at school, been to the bank, grabbed a quick breakfast, put baby down to nap- and finally at a few minutes til 9am, I am enjoying my first sip of coffee.

Also on the agenda: this afternoon Faith has tutoring, karate, and homework. Today I have to food shop for Ava's birthday party this weekend. The only theme we are really going to have is "1st birthday". I am going to look at cakes today- perhaps a Dora or Pooh or one of those disgustingly cute little animated TV stars will be the perfect adornment to Ava's cake... I will take her with me and let her "pick" what she wants. That's for the party that includes my family. Although, the way I see it, the words "my family" and "party" tend to be mutually exclusive, but what the hell let's just make the most of it and try not to mistake anyone for a pinata!

This weekend went great at the tattoo booth- I tattooed a whole softball team, a lot of cute little kiddos, and this one HOT lady came by and asked if I would tattoo her ass... and then she yanked her pants down. I was like, well ok! I thought I was going to have to douse Jef with my bottle of water. After she left I handed him a towel and told him to mop up the drool. All in all, it was a great time AND we made quite a bit of moolah for the upcoming cruise (or if I decide to skip town and say, head to Houston or somewhere :P ).

Sunday was pretty tame... we went out to eat at our favorite wing place. We had just gotten our drinks (water, luckily) and Jef was trying to keep Ava from dropping something on the floor and SPLASH... I got drenched with 2 full glasses of water right in my lap. I felt more sorry for Jef that I did for me. I said that I had needed a bath anyway and was SO glad I'd decided to wear dark jeans instead of those white pants I'd been eyeballing. I was mostly dry when we went to the Wally World, except that huge wet patch on my ass cheek. Siiiigh!!

And now for your daily dose of Ava:
U/S- 19 weeks

4-D scan, 26 weeks (all smooshed up)

Minutes after birth... she is blue from compression bruising due to the fact that she was in a HURRY to be born (less than 3 hours from the time my water broke until her arrival)


3 Days Old- hanging out on the couch with mom


She loves the blowdryer


One of my favorite "Ava is pissed" photos!

--The Milk Maid is a rock star!

Mishy-Mashy Friday

It's 9am and I am already exhausted. I guess it's the weather- we are getting remnants of Humberto and everything is foggy and groggy.

Tomorrow Big J and I load up for the traveling tattoo show. There is a chili cookoff and car show and we are setting up a little booth for airbrush tattoos. I have worked on the posters for displaying the stencils for days and it's finally done. So much detail work, so little patience. Hopefully we wont get rained out!! I found out this morning they have been announcing this event over the radio AND mentioning our temp-tats! Wooohoooo!

RNPC weigh-in: 188... I found a few of those lost pounds. That makes me +2 from last week, but -3 total. That's life, ay? I did do a little time with the karate kick-bag, so I made an effort! Yay me!

Because my little sweet pee-wee Ava will be one in 5 days and I never got to blog her nursery and all that jazz (and I am finally getting pics framed AND hung up, well some are hung) here are some pictures for your pleasure!


The portraits on the right and left were done when Ava was only 9 days old. She still had her belly button cord stump! At the session we got peed and pooped on multiple times... but, the end result was FAB! The middle pic (which is in better detail below) is called "Awaiting Ava".


"Awaiting Ava"--- Jef was just welled up with tears thru my whole maternity photo shoot. He said he'd never seen me more beautiful than when I was pregnant, and especially that day (except maybe when we got married, but it was a close call there). The look on his face in that picture says it all... Sigh... I get the warm fuzzies from that one everytime I walk into Ava's room. (And no, I don't have 4 hands in the first pic... 2 of those belong to Jef!).


Another maternity session pic... I have a frame, but it hasn't made it in there yet. What you dont see is Faith behind be holding my drape (the infamous "sheet"- more on that in another blog) and a fan in front of me blowing a tiny hair in my face that was tickling me to no end.


This is Ava's willow tree. I did the whole nursery by myself- I painted everything, picked crown moulding (ok Jef used the saw to cut it and helped me nail it up), I got all the bedding and accessories, decorated it, etc etc. The willow tree is not a handpainted mural (I wish!), it's a thing called "tatouage" that is basically 50 sheets of tree that you put against the wall one by one and rub on- like a transfer- with a popcycle stick. It took me 8 hours to complete (it's over 7 feet tall), but it's perfect! And if I ever move that wall is going with me. We bought the tree before we got married... we knew it would go in our baby's nursery one day.


Ava (9 days old) and mommy. It's hard to remember her being that small (and her hair being chocolately brown!).

That's it for now... this coming week will be Ava Theme Week!

Found It...

My LH surge that is (finally at CD18):


So, game on? Soon...

We were doing the name-game last night...
Guess I need to put this back up:

I totally blame peer pressure ;)

Thursday Morning....

After dropping Faith off at school Ava and I come home, she drinks a bottle of formula*, and we sit around and play for about 15 minutes. I go to check my email, my online auction, and of course the blogs. Ava follows me to the dining room turned office. It is about that time I notice a smell. A very bad, very pungent, very smelly smell.

*I know I am a huge breastfeeding advocate, but this kid can snarf down two 8 ounce bottles of formula BEFORE she comes to drain me dry (and leave teeth marks on The Girls) and THEN she wants to gobble up part of a chicken biscuit. That is all before 8:15am. She wakes at 7:15am. You see where this is going?

Ava has pooped.

Having just left K with an anecdote on her blog (a very true anecdote) of how I sometimes refuse to change a diaper and call Jef at his work to see if he will come home and do it for me, it seems only right that karma would perform a wee smack down on my smart ass.

I sent an instant message to Jef asking why the baby can't produce a brown trout on HIS shift. He laughed. I knew what I had to do...

...I had to put Ava in a smell-proof receptacle until Jef got home this afternoon!

No, please don't call family and children services on me. I only thought about doing that for just a minute. Besides, they don't make smell proof containers that can handle what she'd just made, so... I gathered Ava up and we went for clean up on aisle 5.

I have never seen such a splatter pattern in my whole life. The diaper appeared to have had a chunky peanut butter bomb blowup inside of it. And the smell, well it wasn't so much the smell as it was the burning of my eyes. My throat closed up. I started wiping frantically with the much too small, much too thin "premium" wipes. What I really needed was a squeegie and a high-pressure garden hose. Of course Ava attempted a crocodile death-roll mid change (must take away the Animal Planet channel) and managed to smear doodie on her legs, her back, and her feet (which I still clung frantically to). It's hard enough to hold a wiggling toddler. I don't need the added lubrication of dook to help that along.

Finally, all was clean and tidy and a new diaper was strapped on. I pick Ava up off the changing table, she coos and giggles at me, hugs me, and then pokes me in the eye as a sign of her appreciation.

--The Milk Maid uses a lot of hand soap

A Quote

I saw this yesterday and had to share it with my peeps:

One foot in front of the other only takes us "there", even if we don't know
where "there" is at the start. Since it is all about doing the appropriate work,
the destination, for now, is irrelevant.

--The Milk Maid says put that in your pipe and smoke it!

PS-- GO TEAM PINEAPPLE!!

Tooseday Stuff

Because she can...


Missing dada...


It's been a slow day- not a lot going on. I had a doctor's appointment this morning so they would continue their referral of me to my urologist... I had never actually been in to see my primary care provider, and after seeing him I wont go back. Think greasy old man. With dog breath. What a total waste that was... he was like, "Why are you here?". I said, "Because your office said I had to come in so I could continue my referral visits to the urologist". He looked in my ears and said, "OK, you are good to go!"

WTF? My ears? Listen to my heart or something you freak. He probably has an ear fetish... I am so glad I just thought of that. Bleh- disgusting! I asked him about the possibility of him prescribing me a mild anti-depressant and he said he liked to monitor his patients for a year before prescribing anything like that. Dude, I will so KILL someone in the next year and that would SO be your fault. Guess I will call my dear friend the OB/Gyn.

So many of you will need these soon: birth announcements.

--The Milk Maid says blabblahblah.