Archive for the ‘I’m a Mimi! (that’s code for Grandma)’ Category

Hannah’s first Ultrasound was at 15W1D. Her size  was 3oz and 8 cm and she measured smaller than her age, so they put her at around 13W6D and changed my due date. At 13 weeks gestation with a heartrate of 138 she was eligible for abortion had we chose it even though she was clearly a live human.


Hannah’s first picture 13w6D 


By my calculations and LMP her due date was 10/31 (she came on 11/1), but by measurements she was 13W6D and due 11/9.  Regardless, at 13W6D she had a heartbeat of 138, and was 3 oz and 8 cm.

According to medical testing we declined, that could have told us if she had any likelihood of birth defects due to my age (which would not have been %100), and according to pro-abortion people, we were totally within our rights to kill Hannah. She was unplanned, because our BC did not work (a reversed Vasectomy that was confirmed to not have worked, meaning he had a 0 sperm count), and because we were totally unprepared to have a baby at 37 with 3 almost grown kids. Even with a visible and detected heartrate, with complete legs, arms, hands, feet, spine, head, belly and face…we were totally within our “rights” to choose to kill her at 13 weeks most likely by ripping her apart and out of my body – according to the pro-abortion community. That is not a choice, that is a decision, against all logic.


Hannah was blessed to be given to a mother that protected her precious body, spine and heart.  Not all babies are that lucky.


Doesn’t look like a clump of cells to me.  Those adorable toes are some of my favorite things about her!

I am thankful that my mother chose life for me and my sister. I am thankful that she taught us that life is sacred, and that we were brought up to understand that a fetus is a baby. I am thankful that when I got pregnant at 17, I had been taught that my baby was not a “clump of cells” and that I had many options available to me. Not one of those options was abortion, because even at 17, I knew that mothers aren’t blessed with babies so they can kill them. Cody is here because I was taught, and blessed to have support from a my mom. I am thankful for a church (that even though the members shunned me) taught me that his life was important. I’m sure Cody Rivera is thankful that I didn’t choose to kill him because he was not planned and I wasn’t ready. He’s 24 this year, you can ask him what he thinks of abortion. Perhaps you can ask him about his 3 kids and one day they’ll tell you what they think of it too. I wouldn’t be blessed with him, or my 3 grandkids had I listened to the message of the world, that my baby was “my body, my choice” to kill. I’m so glad I didn’t.


All because I chose life!  L to R: Cody, Jasmine, Hannah and Me then L to R front Emma (my granddaughter), Jaydan (grandson 1) and on my lap is Landon (grandson 2).

I’m thankful for my ONE planned pregnancy Jasmine Tiana Windham! Thankful she is smart, and knows that she has options, and support should she ever need it. Thankful that she is an adult that is learning, but can make adult decisions and doesn’t think that it’s ok to kill a baby.


I’m thankful for Hannah. Unplanned, total surprise, and wanted and needed more than we ever knew.


Hannah at 3 aka “super Hanni”

We didn’t march today, but we are thankful, blessed, proud and stand for the rememberance of the millions of babies that had no one to stand up for them, and the millions that still have a chance!


Wiggly and loved


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The holidays are my favorite time of year.  I LIVE for Christmas shopping/giving to others.  I get a shopping high picking out just the right present.  Crafts, cooking, spending time with family, decorating, shopping, trees, Christmas movies – you get the idea.  So once Halloween hits, and we move into November, I am in heaven (not that the rest of the year sucks).  I’ve noticed, for a few years now, that it used to take FOREVER for Christmas to get here.  FOR-EVER.  I couldn’t wait to get to Christmas morning.  Now it seems like it’s too quick.  There are about 26 days until Christmas, and I’m only halfway done with my shopping.  Join me in the panic…ok, now let’s move on.

I am going to enjoy this wonderful holiday season (insert Hallmark stamp and “It’s the most…wonderful time…of the year” song) by dwelling in the moment on each of the family holidays, long weekends, traditions, and all that good stuff.  Hence the reason this post is a little late, I was too busy dwelling to want to write anything.

My 11 pound butterball.

My Thanksgiving this year was great.   I made it a point to not spend too much time online (possibly a New Years’ resolution there), and enjoy the long weekend with no work and a mix of family time and “no kid” time.  This year, I have a new home, new family (in-laws, new daughter, daughter-in-law-to-be, Grandson), new husband (SCORE!) and all over, a new outlook on what it means to be happy and thankful.

December 11th will be one year since my life changed course.  It was the day I decided life was too short, and it was much more important to enjoy it fully than to worry about what I had, or what I could have, or what I wanted that I was never going to get.  It was the day I decided that I had enough and that there is, in fact, a limit to how much crap someone will take before they decide they are done.  Words that we should all heed.

During the decision and soon after I had no clue what I was doing, or which way I was going to go.  I only knew that I couldn’t remain where I was.  I depended on my family, and the few friends that remain close to me even across the miles.  I am thankful I had the means, soundness of mind, support, and balls to leave.

Had I not left when I did, I would probably still be there, just like I had been for years leading up to that day.  I was used to it, surrendered to it.  As much as I wanted to leave, and talked about it, and thought about it, I didn’t have enough of a desire to believe that there was much more out there.  Which brings me to my second thing I’m thankful for this year.

I am thankful that God placed me where he did, when he did.  I am thankful for being where I was and having what I had in life, and lacking what I was lacking in life, in order to make me realize now what I was missing. If I did not experience what an unhealthy relationship was, or have to live with the daily struggles of trying make excuses and talk myself out of how bad it was, I would not know now how much of a blessing my life and relationship with my husband is.  As messed up as it sounds (because no one should be like him), I am thankful that he-who-shall-not-be-named was the way he was, I learned from it, and I would not be where I am.

Thankful doesn’t cover it.

This year has been filled with so many new things and great new people.  Many learning opportunities, new things to get used to, old thoughts to get past, different ways to do something.  All leading me further from where I was and closer to where I know I am supposed to be.  I am no longer wondering where I belong, or if this is all life has to offer.  If it is, I am content and happy, before I had come to grips with knowing I’d probably never know what happy was, so I might as well just be happy where I was.  I don’t feel like I have succumb to where I am because there is nothing better out there.  I am thankful I have found the better place (and husband).

As I sit here typing, and think of the changes this last year has brought I am most thankful for the ability to recognize all that is good in my life.

There are people that don’t know what they have, or don’t care until it is too late.  I am not one of those people, and for that I am thankful.


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This past week/weekend was full of new adventures and new stresses.  It’s very freeing when your oldest moves out.  It’s also scary knowing that 1/3 of working “children” under the age of 34 live with their parents.  DOH!

I’m not going to make a sappy post about my baby growing up, but it’s both a sad and happy time.

My boy has everything physical he needs to live on his own, and I can only continue to mother him through the mental, emotional and parenting part of living on his own.  With being a parent comes more love than you knew you held in your heart, fear, joy, pain and so much more.  I love that he is strong enough to WANT to be on his own, and smart enough to make the effort to do his best to make that happen.

Whether or not he succeeds is up to him (and the fact that we have no space for him and his family to live with us).  Let’s all hope and pray for the best!

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The reason I wake up (usually by noon).

My kids.  There is no way possible to pick just ONE of them.  They are both amazing in their own ways.  They are both equally trying in their own ways.  I’ve wanted to hug them and hurt them at the same time…sometimes both of them at the same time!  My kids are wonderful.  They have loved me and been my support team through many life changes.  I’ve made their lives hard sometimes by decisions I’ve made, and they’ve returned the favor.  We’ve grown up together, and I warn them, just as my mother did, it’s going to come back ten-fold (so be careful what you put me through).

My boy, my bubba – he is me with boy parts…the most loyal, loving, smart, handsome, charismatic kid I’ve ever met.  There is NO ONE that doesn’t like him when they meet him.  He comes off shy, or withdrawn until he knows he can trust you not to judge him.  If you judge him he’ll just ignore you, he has no time for it.  He’ll argue his point until you give up or shut up, he doesn’t know when to hush, but he stands his ground and he isn’t a follower.  He’s always up for making a buck, and one day will own his own business selling you things you (don’t)need and can’t do without.  He will always take cash over a gift card (and if you give him a giftcard he is not afraid to try to sell it back to you).  <—-He is not tactful.  He’s a skater, and he likes more genre’s of music than I can name (techno, house, rap, rock, screamo, metal, oldies, reggae, old boy band pop LOL, and yes, even some gospel music)…but not country.  He will kick your ass if you lay a hand on me – and I will do the same if you touch him.  I love my boy, I couldn’t ask for a better son.

My beautiful noodle, punky – she is me…22 years ago.  She is girly girl, talk your ear off, happy, loving, nurturing and everything I ever wanted in a daughter.  She makes friends everywhere, and does not have any enemies.  Even those that “don’t like her” she still wants to talk to and will be friends with if they decide they want her friendship.  She is musically inclined, can carry a great tune, and can dance like her momma – which scares me.   She’s made mistakes and learned lessons, and is still learning them.   Her mind is always going, she’s a great student, always does well in class, and loves to learn.  She is my biggest fan, and her idea of a fun night is playing a game and doing our nails together.  She still loves to “love” on me before going to bed, she can’t go to sleep without me tucking her in, but she insists I don’t call her by her nickname in public.  Her mothering skills are amazing, she has always taken care of me when my migraines strike, complete with thermometer, a medicine time list, food and drink at regular intervals and making sure I have all I need.  Her nurturing spirit has shown through even more lately while taking care of her nephew.  She can change, burp, feed, play with, and love him like she’s been a mom for years.  I look forward to seeing her as a grown woman enjoying her own children one day and experiencing the joy of parenting a child like her.

My children have kept me going on may occasions.  It’s safe to say without them I don’t think I’d have made it this far.


Sidenote: I want to say that my husband has turned many things around in my life.  He’s become a new reason worth living for.  I also have a brand new reason…baby J, that boy has me wrapped already.

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It’s Tuesday night…and we all know what that means!!!!!!!

Yeah, that’s what I thought.  You don’t know nothin’!

See why tomorrow is gonna be a good day?

Tomorrow we get to see my new boy…and my old boy (he’s not old, just not all new baby smell)…and my new daughter (in law to be).  They are coming tomorrow to get set up, we have lots of places to see, and things to do.  Life gets serious when you have a baby at any age, but to do it as a teenager is no easy feat (I speak from experience).  It’s also never fun to move out of state, much less as a teenager and with a baby.  It’s also not fun to have to restart your life, or start in this case.  I am both excited and scared for them, but know that they will do well because they want to make it.   Nothing makes you MORE ready to be an adult than life slapping you in the face.   I look forward to many phone calls (pleas for help), they’re going to need all the support (emotional, physical, parenting, relationship, family, financial) they can get, and I want do to for them what was done for me.  My mother never had the financial means to do everything for us, but she did what she could and was always there for me.  I didn’t realize until I was much older how good she was.  I hope they realize how good they have it.


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Don’t call us, we’ll call you…or not.

YAY!!!!!!! A fun one!

I hope to do lots of things:

  • travel somewhere tropical (with no kids)
  • feel confident that I’m doing all I can in my spiritual life
  • have my dad meet my kids (he’s already met C, but not J)
  • build a custom house
  • have a grandbaby
  • REALLY learn how to bake from scratch (I cheat sometimes)
  • finish all of my craft/hobby projects

Oops, they just asked for one.  Eh, who cares, it was quick and painless.


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They might be little, but they have a big grip on me!

I miss them.  I have been working all day, taking care of the girls, cooking dinner, looking for things online, helping other people with stuff, keeping myself occupied, fighting off a 3 day migraine, yet all day I can’t help but think of how much I miss them.  I think that was a run-on sentence, but it’s my blog so it’s ok.

The “them” I miss isn’t just the lips and toes that I’ve been kissing and watching and playing with and staring at while they sleep.  The “them” is everything that came with those lips and toes.  The cries, coos, burps, smiles, poots, dirty diapers, quiet moments staring at me, his best friend the ceiling fan, his smell (cookies, Johnson’s, and yum was how I explained it on my Facebook), I miss it all.

I didn’t realize how much I missed all things baby until he showed up last Friday.  I hadn’t seen him for a month, and had only seen him for a day a month ago, but when he got here, and I held him, it was like he knew me and I knew I was toast.  My house is now quiet, there are no diapers, toys, blankets, bottles, socks, Goodnight Moon, nose sucker…none of that.

My sister made the statement “There will be moments in each of our lives in which we are forced to let go of something that we wish to hold tightly with both hands.” I agree that it’s hard to send your children off and feel good that you raised them right and they can take care of themselves, but it’s so much harder to do that when they have one of their own to take care of too!

I can’t wait until they are back, and I can see him daily, and hold him.  Once they move here later this month, the balance of being able to have our own space, and enjoy baby time (and send him home for a little while) is going to be wonderful.  But until then, I miss the lips and fingers.


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