Best Buddies

On June 24^th, 1991, my baby brother was brought into the world. I was 4.5 years old. A few days after he came home, I walked into his room and peered in between his crib bars.  He was sleeping soundly and I decided to poke his arm with a toothpick to see what would happen.  When nothing happened, I lost interest and left.

We have come a long way since that faithful day when I tried to stab Aaron with a toothpick.  We've been best buddies pretty much from the start.  

This picture makes me smile. Let’s take a moment to giggle at my wild hair. Must have been a fresh perm.   

Aaron has graduated from college and is growing up to be an amazing person who always handles himself with grace and kindness.  I loved spending graduation week with him.  I think my favorite times were spent shopping for a new graduation outfit (even though he grumbled through it like most boys do), where we found a fun LSU themed bowtie. 

Our smiling faces were tired.

A big congrats to my little brother. Can't wait to see what life has in store for him. 

When I Grow Up

When I grow up, I want to be the Pioneer Woman (PW).  

Forget about becoming a Nurse Practitioner or a 2^nd grade teacher (my first dream). I want to live on a ranch, have a fruitful enough of a garden to sustain my family, cook all day, bake all night, play with Professor’s brothers and sisters (the basset hounds), and live the simple life.  High aspirations for this girl, right? I’m totally kidding…sorta.  Actually, no—I've always seen comfort in living just like they did on Little House on the Prairie (plus indoor plumbing and electricity) or even The Grapes of Wrath (minus the Great Depression).  I think I just miss being a little kid, because now that I really think about it, those people had plenty of life stressors. Just different ones like "I hope a bear doesn't come and eat me tonight." Real probs, huh? 

 

Anyway, yesterday, I invited my friends over for a PW dinner. I've been seeing more of these girls lately, and here’s how we do it. Every once and a while, we sit down with our planners and mark off dates and important events months in advance.  Otherwise, it’s fairly difficult for the 4.5 of us to get together at the same time.  It's a little kooky (yes, kooky) that we have to do this, but it works well for us. 

Aside from the dessert that would not quite cook properly, everything was a success. The PW does not wear an apron, but I tend to spill things on myself pretty often.  Too bad this apron is fairly nonfunctional, and it was probably meant to stay cute and clean.   Therefore, it was twice as hard to cook with it on.  Let’s be real. I cook in my oldest tshirts and shortest shorts and that's the way I like it. 

Here’s what was on the menu: brisket, mac and cheese, greenbeans, mashed potatoes, and monkey bread for dessert.

After dinner (and before and during), we all watched baby A (well, she’s 2 now) run around and explore the wonders of my home. Then she decided to take a “nap” on the floor.

It was a great way to celebrate the end of taking 11 hours and working full time for 4 months (yep, my brilliant idea..) and to kick off the start of the summer. It almost made me forget that my brave puppy got picked on at doggy day care and had to get stitches on his right ear.  He's acts big and tough on the outside (and he is), but on the inside, he's so so sweet and has the best heart.  I love him to pieces.