United Bank of….. ME??????

You have one of these? Cuz I sure as hell don’t!!

You know… whenever you think it’s too good to be true, right?

Okay.. so let’s do some catch up first:

Weed :: who really should be renamed “deadbeat” :: was in jail when T3 :: who I sometimes call “Timbo” :: was born.

He was released from jail while the baby was still in NICU :: withdrawing from FUCKING HEROIN, mind you :: and if memory serves, went up to the hospital.. um.. twice??

He proceeded to sofa surf.. wound up back in jail.. then into rehab.. then back to sofa surfing.. got a job that last all of 2 days :: because OH! He’s not “.. fit for manual labor” :: … did some more sofa surfing until the tide ran dry.. went back to rehab.. then to a half way house.. and now resides in a sober house about 40 miles north east of where I live.

Phew.. I get exhausted just trying remember this shit!

Anyway.. since the baby has been home with us, he’s seen him about 6 times in 18 MONTHS. Doesn’t help out financially… doesn’t even call and ask how he’s doing. In fact, when he was over for Thanksgiving dinner :: not my idea and that counts as visit 5 of the 6 :: he never once expressed gratitude that the son he called begging and pleading not to become a ward of the state was right there in the middle of the room being supported and raised by me and Chief.

AND, on Christmans :: visit 6 of 6 :: he didn’t so much as bring the kid a dollar store teddy bear even though he “supposedly” is working. Because if there’s one thing the sober house did that Chief didn’t.. was force the kid to get a job to earn his keep.

With both Weed and Bubba, you never heard from them unless they need something. While this doesn’t bother Chief.. it bugs the shit out of me. And it really doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m the only one working.. it has more to do with respect.

Another post for another time.

So the fact that we don’t hear from Weed at all actually makes my life easier.

But y’all know that wasn’t going to last for long.

Last night, Weed calls Chief. The two things I hear Chief say is “… what’s going on” and “.. yknow i’m not working, right?”

And that really is all I need to hear because I know then that somehow, someway, this is going to cost me money. The big question is how much and what it’s for.

See, there’s a reason why they call Chief and ask. Me? I wouldn’t be able to get HELL NO out fast enough.

So Chief talks to him for a few minutes and tells him he’ll call him back.

He walks past me on the couch.. goes into the kitchen.. starts making a cup of coffee.. I purposely ask him if he wanted to watch a movie.. he said he didn’t care.. and then silence.. silence.. silence.. silence.. silence…

I know what he’s doing.. he’s trying to figure out the best way to ask me to give Weed money because he feels embarrassed and awkward and feels like he’s put in a bad position.

So I flat out ask “.. so what was that all about?”

He tells me that Weed is working but for some reason, hasn’t gotten paid yet. “.. remember he said something about that at Christmas? Huh? Huh? Do ya? Do ya?”

NOTE: everything after “.. at Christmas?” I added using the beauty of poetic licensing

I tell him I didn’t but whatever.

He tells me that Weed is 100.00 short on his rent and if he doesn’t have it by tomorrow afternoon, he’s going to get kicked out. IN! 9! DEGREE! WEATHER!

And of course, I have all these questions that he can’t answer.

Why doesn’t he have his rent? Can’t he explain the paycheck situation with the landlord? Can’t he have the landlord call you? Can’t you give him a money order? Can’t you deposit it right into the landlord’s account? Etc. Etc. Etc.

Believe you me.. I did NOT want to give this kid money. For rent or not. I’m not a fucking bank and I have issues making it from one paycheck to another as it is. I also know that once you get him out of a bind once.. that phone will never stop ringing. I also know that Chief can be a pussy when having to play “bad cop” and so I figured that giving him 100.00 bucks is going to serve 2 purposes.

One, he’s going to be told to not even ask for a used tissue until the money is paid back and two, Chief is never going to grow a pair big enough to ask me again on his behalf.

Not to bore you with the details, but it was THAT kind of conversation.

So Chief calls him back and tells him that we’ll bring him up the money. He wanted to see where he was living :: if it was what he said it was and not a crack den :: AND he wanted to give the money to the house manager. Being that he lived in a house for recovering junkies and got a last minute call for money did anyone THINK it was going into his hands?? Right.

Weed texts me his address and when I asked what time the house manager was going to be there, he replied that he would have to get back to me because the dude wasn’t home from work yet.

Fine.

About 10pm he sends a text that we could go up “anytime” because he had to work and wouldn’t be there.

So now I’m going to drive 40 miles :: did I mention that we were hit with 7 inches of snow, temps not breaking 12 degrees AND I go into severe anxiety when I have to drive in bad weather? :: hand some money to some stranger without Weed being there and that’s ok?

Don’t think so.

Chief calls Weed and is told that he has to work and wouldn’t be back until around 4. Chief tells him that we’re not driving up there that late because we’re victims of a toddler’s schedule … HIS toddler’s schedule .. and we’re not going to be put out all night because the kid falls asleep in the car way before he’s suppose to. So Weed tells him that given the circumstances, he’ll try to get off work early and be at the house around 3.

Whatever.

So this afternoon, around 230-ish, Weed calls Chief and asks him what time we were leaving. Chief tells him that we were just gearing up and should be there in an hour. Weed THEN tells Chief that he’s at his girlfriend’s house :: haven’t thought of a name for her yet but she’s another recovering addict that has a 6 year old son and lives with her parents :: and could we pick him up there?

Are you fucking kidding me?

No. No. No. No. No. HELLS NO.

I get bent.. even Chief gets bent.. and I told Chief that he’s acting like he’s doing US a favor and that WE should be grateful enough to go traveling all over eastern Pennsylvania to give him money.

Get the fuck out of here.

Chief actually put his foot down which was impressive. Finally.

We get to the house and it’s not a crack house.. but it doesn’t look line the Sober House on the Dr. Drew VH1 series, that’s for sure.

The girlfriend was there.. she’s nice enough. So far. And we met the house manager and some of the other recovering junkies that live there.

Chief reverted to a teenager and didn’t act one iota like a pissed off father who drug his wife and grandson 40 miles in bad weather to bail him junkie son out once again so I had to be the bitch and lay down the law regarding money. Again.

I had to be the bitch who made it perfectly clear that his son has no idea who he is AND I was the bitch who put his girlfriend on the spot by asking if the father of her son was in his life. Her answer was no. I asked if it pissed her off. She said it did. I then asked if her son’s father was a deadbeat and it pissed her off then why would she want to date a deadbeat?

It’s no secret that his kids think I’m a bitch so why not take the opportunities when the present themselves?

Unfortunately, we were there a lot longer then I anticipated or hoped to be. Maybe a half hour? Less then an hour? But it was at such a time and weather was the way it was that I couldn’t drive. I didn’t feel safe. So Chief had to drive home.

Did I ever mention how bloody car sick I get when Chief drives?

I literally thought I was going to die.. that hot feeling, stomach flipping up to your throat? I was literally in tears because I just wanted to get off the damn highway but we couldn’t.. it was bumper to bumper the whole way down because guess what?

Eagles’ playoffs.. that’s what and the only way we could get back to our house was to drive right past bloody Lincoln Field.. at prime drive time.

Chief did make sure.. in my ear shot.. to ream Weed out about the money, about not even dreaming of asking for anything again until it’s paid back, and for acting like a complete dick about not being at the house.

Like that’s going to make a difference.

At any rate.. that was my day! How the hell was yours??

 

 

 

… How We Got To Here

.. that being what’s happening since I last posted.
If you need to know how the baby came about… Well, either your too young to be on this blog or you have more important things you should be researching on the Internet!

Anyway… Let’s start with Wednesday night and see how far we get. Exhaustion, y’know .. And chicken pecking on the iPad…

So..

Wednesday night I come home from work and Weed’s ass is parked on my couch. Of course it is.
Because the hospital INSISTS each adult living in the house HAS to spend at least one night with the baby I have to suffer through it Wednesday into Thursday in order for him to be released.

I come home thinking I’ll take a nap before going to the hospital because I figure I’m going to be up most of the night anyway.. Why fight sleep to boot.

So I go in my room… Put on the latest episode of The Glee Project and veg out.

And no.. I didn’t take a nap because I had to watch the latest Design Star, too.

Anyway…

A little before 7, Chief comes into the bedroom and tells me that he’s going to drive Weed back to where ever it is he goes to at night.

Oh??? Um, he’s not coming to the hospital?

Chief tells me, laden with sarcasm, the Weed told him he has ” something important” to do.

Really? Because.. Um… Seeing your infant son in the hospital isn’t important?

Chief puts his hands up in the don’t-get-me-started way and I shrug.

When he comes back, I’m already packed and ready to go so we loaded up the truck and moved to Beverly… Hills, that it.. Black gold.. Texas tea…

Heh… Sorry!! Sleep deprivation kicked in!

… We loaded up the car and drive to the hospital.

On the way there I asked Chief what does someone with no job, no place to live and a withdrawing baby have to do that soooooo important.

Chief said that Weed told him he was going to hang out with his friend, the bi-sexual prostitute druggie.

Only he said her proper name and I was like.. Are you FUCKING kidding me? I’ve known this girl for years.. All the rumors I’ve heard about her then.. And now.. Are true. ALL of them… And THIS is the something important????

Chief tells me when Weed told him where he was going to he put on the breaks and pulled the car over. He said to Weed, “Let me get this straight.. You think getting wasted and screwing the bi-sexual prostitute druggie while your son is in the hospital and his mother is in jail IMPORTANT???? GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY CAR”

… and he did. Think it was important and got out of the car.

Chief was BEYOND livid… And it only got worse.

I’ll post more about what happened when the baby came home and where Weed’s been for the past three days tomorrow after I find my laptop cord..

You won’t believe it.. I don’t believe it and I’m living it..

But I will part with these words of wisdom from Chief:

Let it go. I’ve been thru this with the Crack Whore.. You’ll get aggregated because they won’t tell you the truth and you’ll know they’re not telling you the truth.. It’ll bother you way more the n it’ll bother them.. That will play itself out. He’ll either get t together, OD or wind up back in jail.. In the meantime, we have this innocent little baby that will feel everything you feel.. That’s what happened with Spaz and the baby don’t deserve that because we’re suppose to be giving him a better life.

Words to live by..

Grrrrrr….

Ohhhhh Kay….

… no, this isn’t my stepson. He weighs a lot more then Weed does

Weed gets out of jail Friday night. He comes over to my house Saturday morning.. stays all day. Comes back Sunday morning.. stays all day. He was a no-show on Monday and Tuesday and then yesterday and today his skinny, scabby ass was sitting on my couch not doing nothing.

Just sitting. Watching tv .. going on Facebook.. playing video games.. eating my food and using my facilities.

That first Saturday he was there, I told Chief that if Weed was planning on perching in my nest then he was going to have to put him to work doing SOMETHING. Since the baby was born, we’ve been spending a lot of time at the hospital so things around the house have been falling by the wayside a bit. The garden needs weeding.. the back porch needs cleaning.. the grass needs to be mowed. You get the idea.

Chief was completely on board with it.

… and then I mentioned it again on Sunday. And Wednesday. And before I left for work THIS MORNING.

Make him do something, Chief.. I don’t want his bony ass sitting doing nothing because he could be siting doing nothing in jail. He gets all oh-hell-yea and if he were Italian, he’d put in a fist pump for emphasis.

Right before this little convo, the baby’s Child Youth Service’s case worker called. We had to notify her that Weed was released from prison and she was calling to make sure that Weed was still on board for us to get custody of the baby. Since Weed has the Crack Whore’s phone, Chief gave her the number but told her it was 8:30am and she may not be able to reach him.

Now color me silly but to ME? .. this was kind of important, right? Like.. it’s the kind of information that you want to keep the person who’s life and finances are being altered because of this baby informed of. Right?

So after I have the convo with Chief on the front porch about making Weed do something, I drive to work and start my day.

By 3pm, I hadn’t heard anything from Chief so I give him a call and he’s all groggy because, once again, I interrupted a nap. I do feel bad about that because for one reason or another he doesn’t sleep much. Or at all, for that matter. But that’s neither here nor there.

Anyway.. so I call him and he’s asks me how my day is going and I tell him it’s going and then I ask him if anything was going on at the house.

He says something like if there was anything to tell he would have called me and I’m like.. are you kidding me?.. did the case worker get in touch with Weed? Have you heard from Weed? Did you hear from your dad? Like.. W! T! F! .. I don’t call to just shoot the shit.

He says he hasn’t heard from my father in law.. that the case worker did get in touch with Weed and he told her that he wanted us to have custody and that Weed was sitting there ON. THE. COUCH.

Oh? Well.. what was he doing?

Why, playing video games of course.

He goes on to say how pissed off he was and how he was going to tell him whatever he said he was going to tell him.

Whatever.

I was kind of put out that it was 3 in the afternoon and this whole conversation hadn’t happened yet and after hearing that you would think that he would know better then to ask me if I was going to stop at the super market on the way home to pick up dinner. Bad move. He caught on to my attitude pretty quick and apologized if he was frustrating me.

Too late, bucky.

So basically my afternoon was ruined and I got that pit in my stomach knowing that this kid was lumped on my couch doing nothing and I’m not even coming home to dinner. I don’t ask for much.. but after busting my ass all day, I like coming home and eating dinner. Call me silly.

So I got all this something or other churning around in my brain and when I get home, I am NOT in a good mood. Especially because I have to go home and then go food shopping.

I walk into the house and don’t say anything to anybody. Chief knows that I’m pissed so when I go into the bedroom to change out of my work clothes, he comes in.. closes the door.. and tells me that after he got off the phone with me he told Weed that he couldn’t hang at the house.. that he should be looking for a job.. blah blah blah fucking blah.

Whatever.

We leave to go food shopping and that takes forever. When we get home, Chief tells me that he’s going to get Spaz to help with the bags and that mentions something about IF Weed is still there he better get his ass out to help to.

Excuse me.. but where exactly WOULD he be?

Sure enough, he was there .. which meant he was going to be fed.. which really pissed me off more.

But let’s be honest.. there was NOTHING that WASN’T going to piss me off at that point.

So as we’re eating dinner, I passively aggressively ask Weed what the hell he thought his plan of life was going to be. I basically told him everything I felt Chief should have told him and added in that if he thought I was a bitch because of it then he better realize that he’s just getting poked by the tip of the iceberg.

I told him I didn’t want to here, “I’m trying”, or “it’s hard”, or “I can’t” or whatever because the only thing that would be acceptable is I START WORK TOMORROW. I told him it was pretty presumptuous of him to think that he can come up in here and act like he’s entitled to my castle like a prince with a crooked halo when I am literally flipping my whole life for 18+ years and changing every single plan I had made and taking care of his kid.

His first retort was that I didn’t have to.. that nobody is making me.. and I think when I shot up out of my chair he kind of realized he said the wrong thing because he backtracked real quick and said that he knew we didn’t have to and how lucky he was that we were. Then he kind of had a little meltdown and said through sobs and tears that we were worried more about the baby and not about him.

Not phased. At all.

I told him that HIS son was 23 DAYS old.. and HE was 23 YEARS old… get my point?

He had the good sense to shut the fuck up AND the good sense to not ask for a ride back to where he came from. When he did leave, he walked out the door the same way he walked in. No chariot waited.

Now let me just say this.. unless you walked in these Iron Fist clad feet, you have no understanding of the emotion and heartbreak and feelings of failure when your kid is a junkie. And while you can say you would do things differently.. and would have different results I’m here to tell you that those thoughts are bullshit.

I’ve watched enough “Intervention” to know that anything less then tough love is enabling. No one wants to see him get his life together more then we do. But understand, he’s not a kid. He’s an adult and if he can’t get his shit together now.. that what makes anyone think he’s going to get his shit together when he’s 25? 30? 50?

Who am I kidding.. he won’t make it to 50.

 

… Excuse Me While I Push A Railroad Spike Through My Eye

<– See this?

That’s me.

Well, the PICTURE isn’t me but the sentiment is the same.

Ok.. so first things first.

The baby is still in the hospital. He’s doing well.. gaining weight and filling out nicely. I’ll tell you, his ASS is healthy!! Boy of boy can that kid fill a diaper!!

I actually haven’t seen him since last Wednesday … almost a week ago.. because running off of 2 hour sleep, toast and coffee finally caught up with me and I picked up some kind of nasty something from the hospital that kicked my ass for more then a few days.

Honestly, I needed the break to catch up on the current season of Hell’s Kitchen.

Which, BTW, even I know how to cook a freakin’ scallop!! Come on, people!! :: smh ::

But I digress..

15 days old

Chief’s been going up to the hospital and even though there is no way in hell a camera in his hand is EVER a good idea, he was able to capture this little gem.

He’s a lot more alert and even though he still can’t be disturbed between his feedings, he’ll stare intently at who ever is holding him or feeding him.

Ok..

So that’s the update.

Now..

You KNOW :: or you should by now if you read me regularly :: that there’s a reason why I’m posting this here instead of on the baby’s blog.

So this past Friday night, Chief and I went to see my godson and his girlfriend. It’s usually an every two week visit because they just moved into their own place together and I like to keep tabs on him. Plus, how cool are THEY that they want to spend their Friday nights with the old folks????

This particular Friday it was out turn to go over there place and they were awesome to have bought the baby a bunch of stuff. My godson’s girlfriend is super duper excited about the baby and a fun time was had by all.

Until the ride home.

It’s about 9pm and the phone rings. It’s Weed from prison. On a free call. Which means one thing. They released him and he needed a ride home.

You want to talk about acid reflux shooting up your throat and burning a hole through your voice box?

I’m not going to go verbatim with the convos because this is going to be a long enough post as it is… but basically, Chief told him we were in another state and couldn’t pick him and to call the Crack Whore.  And then the texting started coming fast and furious and the silence.

The silence.

The silence is the worse thing of all because I know what I’M thinking… mainly.. you better not fucking tell him.. or her.. to drop him off on my doorstep.

I can only surmise.. because of the silence.. that HE’s thinking how the hell am I going to tell Leese that he’s going to be dropped off on our doorstep?

So we drive for like, another 20 minutes or so, and he’s not saying anything and I’m not saying anything. I’m not sure what his exact words were when he finally DID say something.. but it was something to the effect of “… she hasn’t texted me back so I’m guessing she’s going to pick him up”

To which, I replied “… or do you mean she’s going to pick him up and take him to our house?”

He said he didn’t say that to which I said that I didn’t know what he was saying because he wasn’t saying anything to which he responded that his mind was all spinning at a mile a minute.

Whatever.

He went on to read the text messages between them ending with the one he sent that said he didn’t care where she took him but he can’t come to our house.

Appreciated the support there but as I told him, she does what she wants to do regardless of what anyone tells her because she gets to dump her trash on anyone’s doorstep because thinks that people who work hard for what they have should have to handle whatever shit she throws at them because after all.. she doesn’t work.. she’s basically homeless.. she doesn’t have any money.. blah blah blah fucking blah.

Anyway.. I had promised Chief’s cousin Bird that I would go with her to the hospital to see her father who had had a second major surgery in 2 weeks. She had gotten a call that he was out of recovery so she had asked if I would drive out with her. So I called her before we got home and she literally pulled up my drive way behind me. I tell Chief that I’d be back soon and away me and Bird went.

It wasn’t a long visit.. I mean, by the time we got to the hospital it was almost 11pm, but we stayed a little.. spoke with the doctor.. got the tv and phone situated and that was that.

I expected Weed to be at the house when I got home but he wasn’t. I also know how long it takes to actually be released and figured it was still a possibility that he could.

Chief was sleeping and he had the phone charging in the kitchen. I checked the text messages and there was an unanswered one from the Crack Whore asking if Weed can stay at our home for just 1 night.

I texted “NO” and went to bed.

He never did show up but Saturday morning he texted and asked what time he should come over to sign the custody papers.

FUCK.

I texted back and told him that he could come over anytime but I was low on gas and wasn’t going to pick him up. He said he’d walk over. I found out later that he had stayed over a “friend” of his’ house and so the walk was probably about 4 miles. In 98 degree heat.

Serves him right.

He asked about the baby.. was impressed with the nursery.. and the bottom line was he got lectured and talked to and lectured and talked to and lectured and talked to the whole time he was sitting on my couch.

He said all the things junkies say when confronted with their junkie-ness… how he was going to stop.. get a job.. get a place.. blah blah blah blah fucking blah. But, you know, the proof is in the pudding. And when he said that he didn’t have anything because all his clothes had been tossed by the guy he used to live with I told him that it was better to have lost nothing at 23 then to lose everything at 30.

Luckily, the guy who had given him a job before he got arrested offered to take him on again and I so I told him that he had more going for him that most people who got out of jail.

Fast forward and Chief took him to go see the baby. I couldn’t go because I was sick but I thought it was something that I didn’t need to be a part of.

A few hours passed and Chief came home.. he had dropped Weed off back in the old neighborhood where all his junkie friends spend their nights crawling under park benches getting wasted. Nice.

When asked, Chief said that Weed cried when he saw the baby and got embarrassed when the nurse said, “.. oh! you’re out of jail!”. Chief told him that everyone knew what the deal was it was what it was. I asked him if he was optimistic or pessimistic after the visit. Like OH! I have a SON! I NEED TO GET MY SHIT TOGETHER! or oh i have a son i need to get my shit together.

Chief said he was optimistic so I was like, ok.. good first step.

Sunday he walked over again early in the morning.

Sundays are usually family dinner day with my father in law.. brother in law and his wife. This Sunday Bubba showed up.

I kept my eye on Weed and Bubba because I know that Bubba is following into the drugs and alcohol foot steps of his older brother. I didn’t think he was stupid enough to bring anything to the house but I figured if they were together whispering in a corner it wouldn’t be a good thing.

Chief wind up taking Bubba along to the hospital with him and Weed. Again, I stayed home.

Chief and I drove them both back to where they wanted to go and again, I wasn’t excited about the fact that Weed wanted to get dropped off in a parking lot outside the old town we used to live in. But still.. I’m trying to be positive.

Monday comes and Weed doesn’t come over to the house. He had called earlier and told his father that he had gone to see his parole officer and then was going to the drug place to sign up for his court mandated outpatient rehab. He said he wasn’t going to come over because he didn’t feel like walking.

Nice. And your…… son?

Okay.. so maybe because he had to walk to probation (maybe) and then had to walk to rehab (maybe) he was too tired to walk to the house.

Maybe.

Personally, I would walk 100 miles if my kid was in a hospital but you know.. I’m not a junkie.

So now it’s Tuesday.

Spaz turned 14 and both his brother’s said that they would be over to help him celebrate. I wasn’t thrilled about it but it was Spaz’s birthday not mine so I was going to suck it up.

I got home from work at at 630pm and when I walked into the house, Chief was in the kitchen.. Spaz was on the couch playing a video game. And that was it. No one else.

Spaz asked if we could go to a Chinese Buffet for dinner and since Chief had to pick up a motor for the pool filter near the buffet, we decided to go. I was waiting for a moment when I could talk to Chief and that came while we were waiting in line to be seated and Spaz went off to the koi pond.

I asked Chief if he had heard from his sons. He said Bubba called Spaz earlier to wish him Happy Birthday and that Chief called and made up some excuse about not coming over. First he said he had to go to his probation officer… to which Chief said that Weed said he had gone yesterday. And then… and then came the “um.. um.. um”‘s and that he meant the rehab place. To which Chief said that Weed said he went there yesterday too.

Weed didn’t have another excuse and Chief got pissed and hung up on him.

I got just as pissed hearing this. Not that I thought anything would change.. but I thought things would change. And now it’s painfully obvious that it hasn’t because what else would he being doing hanging around his old friends in the old town?

And just in case you think I’m exaggerating .. not that I think you are.. about how much of junkie this kid is here is a picture of father and son.

Does it make you want to throw up, too?

Mind you, the baby is tiny… just barely 6 lbs and he looks huge being held by a bag of skin and bones, doesn’t he?

So now, my cautiously optimistic attitude had turned into full blow CAUTION!

Thankfully, that court papers are filled out and will be filed on Thursday morning asking the court for full custody of the baby because both his parents are junkies with no permanent home, no jobs and no way to support either themselves or a baby.

Fingers crossed that this goes through without a hitch because I have a college fund I need to start saving for.

THIS Time I Have A Good Reason To Be M.I.A

I know … I know… I made a promise but my intentions, and the road to hell their paved on, are good!

I want to introduce you to the new man in my life:

This little man is Chief’s grandson, born 6/15 and weighing 5lbs. 8 oz and 17.5 inches long.

He was born 5 weeks premature… addicted to heroin… but for as bad as it could have been, he’s doing just fine.

Oh.. and did I happen to mention that both parents are currently in jail and have been since May 24th?

I started another blog dedicated specifically to him and the journey we’re on with him now. If we roll like that, shoot me an email and I’ll send you the link. I’m not going too public with it because their’s an infant and a whole lot of legal mess involved.

So just cruised by to share … !!

Here’s a few more:

Oh.. and PS my texaskid bestie, I can’t post from my iPad because the chicken pecking takes forever and I usually end up accidentally deleting the post!! Call me old school!! Love you!