Elizabeth Mae

My first experience as an aunt proved to be an enlightening one. . . babies hate me. I've always had this suspicion but I've carefully avoided babies for the last twenty years to avoid making that suspicion a reality. But for the first time in my life, I finally had a niece. (It's about time!) Elizabeth Mae Miller was born August 12, 2009. Liz was 6 pounds 14 ounces and 20 1/2 inches long. Mae's as beautiful as a baby can be. I went to the hospital to hold my favorite niece for the first time and it turns out that Beth was ready for me. I had only been holding Lizzy for about ten seconds before she took a huge dump in her diaper for me. Ten seconds later, Betty decided to do it again. Before I had the chance to hand Lizzy Mae over to her dad for a diaper change, Elizabeth decided to spit up her entire meal. In the thirty-eight seconds I was holding her, Betsy pooped twice and puked on me. What a precious little miracle. I was there for about an hour and half and that minute I held her was the only one that Eliza decided to puke or poop on anyone. Apparently, I'm her favorite.

Moral of the Story - Since Miller has about a dozen different nicknames, I can pretty much call her anything I want. I'm going to go with Harley. Welcome to the world Harley!

I've Got a Feeling

There are few things in this world that make me truly happy - family, friends, Chuck Norris, etc. But also on this list is music. No matter if I'm stressed or tired or angry, music is my happy place. If I were Peter Pan, my happy thought would be my favorite song of the week, which just so happens to be "I've Got a Feeling" by Black Eyed Peas. It's a wonderful song, a bit overplayed on the radio, but what great song isn't. Anyways, I worked eight hours at Payless and it was no picnic. Since we have Back to School Sales going on, it's been crazy busy and entirely no fun. Just imagine measuring smelly kids' feet all day. No fun. But I finally got off work and got in my car to drive home. While driving, my favorite song came on. My entire day went from miserable to happiness in .2 seconds. So I stopped at a red light at Southern and Harris. I could've turned right but I chose to pause and take it all in. So I turned up my radio as loud as it goes and rolled down all the windows. I then proceeded to perform the best car dancing of my entire life. I was busting it up for about half a minute when I looked over to the car next to me. To my dismay, it turned out to be a cop car. He was staring at me and instead of a smile on his face, he ominously shook his head at me. I hung my head in fake shame and turned off my music and then turned right onto Southern. I waited for half a mile to see if he was following me. When the coast was clear I cranked my music back up and continued my wicked car dancing moves.

Moral of the Story: My mother hoped I had learned a lesson from this experience and I have. Here it is... Always check for cops before car dancing.