Yellow Irises

My irises are blooming, just in time for Easter!

Maybe I'm More Like My Mother Than I Thought...

Most people agree that my dad and I have a lot of the same qualities. We're both pretty laid back and calm about most things, we both love listening to music and we even have similar tastes in music, and we both have an amazing sense of humor. Don't get me wrong--my mom has a lot of great qualities too, but I really seem to have inherited most of my dad's qualities. Lately, however, I have come to realize that maybe I am more like my mother than I originally thought. You see, my mom LOVES to be outside working in her yard. Growing up, the only time I can really remember my mom being inside the house was when she was sleeping. I clearly remember on multiple occasions my dad practically having to drag my mom inside because it was thundering and lightening, a hurricane was blowing through, or it was so hot that he feared she would suffer a heat stroke. The woman just loves to be outside. You may remember my posts last year about my backyard landscaping project, and how much I enjoyed working in my new yard. Now that spring has sprung and everything is greening back up, I am back at it. I often find myself spending hours upon hours outside--pulling weeds, cutting the grass, weed eating, edging, fertilizing, watering the plants, or simply just admiring my yard. And--if I do say so myself--it is pretty admirable these days.











My mom definitely passed the yard work genes on to me. I guess I'm more like her than I thought! Of course, I must give some credit to my yard work supervisor:



A lot of the plants in my yard are close to blooming, so stay tuned for more pictures of some pretty flowers!

Hanging on to My Mid-20s...By a Thread.

Earlier this month, I celebrated my 27th birthday. Initially, I was dreading this birthday. To me, turning 27 meant entering my late-20s, and I'm just not ready to be THAT close to the big 3-0 yet. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that, technically, 27 is closer to 25 than it is to 30. In preparation for my birthday, I began a poll and asked my friends, co-workers, and acquaintances if they thought that 27 was considered mid-20s or late-20s. The general consensus was that 27 is still mid-20s, but just barely. I'm okay with that. Suddenly, I felt more comfortable with turning 27, and I found reason to celebrate my birthday, not mourn it.

This year, my birthday fell on a weekend, which gave me reason to celebrate not just my birthday, but my entire birthday weekend. And celebrate I did...all weekend long!

Here are some pics from the martini night birthday celebration with the girls.

Luna having a blast:


Steph G. overwhelmed with joy:

Steph A. bi-winning with a cupcake in one hand and a martini in the other:

Me making my birthday wish:

The best friends a girl could ask for:

Thanks to everyone who made my birthday weekend so special! I'm so glad I got to spend it with some of my most favorite people!

(Mis)adventures in Dogsitting

To all of my faithful blog readers, I'm sorry that I have been MIA for a few weeks. Well, it's not so much that I have been missing, but I really just haven't had a whole lot to say. Over the past few weeks, my life has basically consisted of obsessively pulling every weed that has popped up in my yard, fighting off a random bout of walking pneumonia (which, surprisingly, was nowhere near as bad as it sounds), and allowing my new DVR receiver to take over my life. Nothing incredibly blogworthy. That is, until I agreed to let my brother's dog stay at my house for a week, and consequently allowed myself to become outnumbered by dogs in my own home.

First of all, I need to give you a little background on my brother's dog. He's special. The dog, not my brother...although my brother has his special moments as well. My best guess is that the dog is missing quite a large number of brain cells. I love him, but he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed. And the ironic part of all of this is that the dog's name is Einstein (my brother named him before it became apparent how...special...the dog is). We all have a hard time calling the dog "Einstein", so we usually just call him "Pup". A simple name for a simple pup.

When Pup arrived at my house, I soon realized that teaching him how to use the doggy door would be a major undertaking. It took a lot of treats, and a lot of me crawling around on the ground outside acting like a fool to get Pup to come through the doggy door. But, after a lot of practice, Pup finally mastered the doggy door. And this is what I mean by "mastering the doggy door":



As an example of how "special" Pup is, at one point during the dogsitting adventure he managed to lock himself in my guest bathroom. Unfortunately, I was not home when this occurred so I have no idea how long he was locked in the bathroom. But I do get a good laugh out of the mental image of Pup being locked in the bathroom while Colby was stretched out on the couch, enjoying having the house to himself again.

Luckily, Colby and Pup really get along great. When they are together, they are constantly playing like puppies. Pretty good for a 3-year-old and a 6-year-old dog. When they get tired from playing, they lay down and rest together. One night during the dogsitting adventure, Pup was so nice to serve as Colby's pillow:



I really wish I had a video camera set up to record what Colby and Pup did while I was not at home. Something tells me that they spent a lot of time rehearsing their...duet.



I'm sure my neighbors appreciated all of their beautiful singing.

Keeping Pup at my house definitely made for an interesting and adventurous week. Pup has gone home now, and Colby and I are recovering from our week of dogsitting. Who knew dogsitting could be so exhausting?

Happy Birthday Colby!!!

Happy Birthday to my sweet little valentine!



In honor of his third birthday, Colby got his teeth cleaned at the vet's office on Friday. It cost a pretty penny, so I told Colby that having his teeth cleaned would be his birthday gift this year. He wasn't too thrilled about that, but I suppose I wouldn't be either if all I got for my birthday was a good teeth cleaning. But, on the bright side, Colby now has a million-dollar smile...quite literally!

Can I Get a High "5"?

Ever since 2011 began, I have come to realize that a big theme of 2011 for me will be the number "5".

2011 marks five years since I graduated from college--and everything that characterized my Spring Hill College experience.

Like the "destination unknown" parties, the formals, and the Mardi Gras Balls.









And the Habitat for Humanity spring break trips.





And the retreats.





And Thursday dollar margarita nights at Sabor a Mexico.





And just hanging out with friends.







And finally making that long-awaited walk down the Avenue of the Oaks to receive my nursing degree.



In a couple of months, I will return to Spring Hill for Homecoming on the Hill, during which the class of 2006 will celebrate our five-year reunion. I'm looking forward to being back on the campus I love with the friends that I miss dearly.



2011 also marks five years since I moved to Birmingham. It wasn't until my last semester of college that I began to even consider moving away from Mobile. The more I thought about it, the more I knew that if I didn't embark on this adventure at that particular point in my life, I probably never would. There are so many great people that I have met during my five years here in Birmingham.

Like my crazy co-workers.







And these awesome girls, Cate (a.k.a. "Booty"), Tara, and Jean. Technically I already knew Tara before I moved to Birmingham, but we've grown much closer since I moved up here.



And, of course, my four favorite kiddos--Piper, Henry, Rosemary, and Penelope--and their great parents, Heather and Gary. I'm Auntie Ann to them, but if you were to ask those sweet kids, I'm just their "Ain". They are too cute!





I am so thankful that I followed my heart all the way up to Birmingham five years ago, because I cannot imagine not having met any of these people. I think it is mostly because of these people that Birmingham has come to feel like "home" to me.

2011 also marks five years since I began my nursing career at UAB. Over the past five years, I have truly found my passion in neonatal nursing. While some days are harder than others, I can honestly say that I love my job. I enjoy providing care for premature and sick babies and developing strong, and sometimes lasting, relationships with their parents. There is no greater feeling than witnessing a baby's journey during his or her stay in the NICU all the way up until the moment that he or she is discharged home. And it is so satisfying to keep in touch with the parents of these babies after discharge and see those babies that I remember as being small and fragile grow into happy and healthy kids. I have grown and learned so much during my five years at UAB--not just nursing skills, but important life skills as well.

It really doesn't seem like it has been five years since I graduated from college, moved to Birmingham, and began my nursing career at UAB. But when I think back to my life five years ago, I realize that I have experienced a lifetime of learning and growing as I have ventured through the "real world" these past five years. I think I deserve a high "5"!

I'm Being Haunted...By a Cat.

When I was nine years old, I begged and begged my parents to let me have a dog. Being the smart people that they are, my parents knew that we did not have the time to devote to a dog, and that I was lying through my teeth when I told them that I would feed and care for the dog every single day. I must have been pretty insistent though, because my parents finally agreed to let me have a hamster (Sidenote: Ewww! I don't know what they were thinking! A hamster?! Ewww!). My mom took me to the pet store, and we left with a cute little furry...kitten! I'll never forget the look on my dad's face when we showed back up at the house with Tootsie...

Now, fast forward 17 years. As you may remember, Tootsie the cat met a tragic end a couple of months ago when she was hit by a car in my parents' garage--a car my mom just happened to be driving. It was an unfortunate accident, and I don't think my poor mother will ever recover from it. My mom immediately rushed Tootsie to the vet after the accident, but her injuries were far too severe and she was far too old (heck, she was freaking 17 years old!!) to take any drastic measures. My mom courageously stayed by Tootsie's side as she died peacefully.

Here is a picture of the late Tootsie:



Now, fast forward to the present time. The other night, I was putting some clothes in my dryer and heard a "Meow!" on the other side of the window by my laundry room. I cracked open the blinds, but it was dark outside and I didn't see anything. So I went into the living room, sat on the couch, and started watching TV. Pretty soon, I heard another "Meow!", this time coming from the other side of my living room window. A little bit later, I headed to my bedroom to turn in for the night, and...you guessed it...I heard a "Meow!" coming from the other side of my bedroom window. I felt as if I was being followed, but I shook it off and went to bed.

I woke up the next morning, opened the back door to let Colby outside, but found it a little strange that Colby expressed no interest in going outside. I looked out the door, and what I saw sent chills down my spine:



Yes, I'm being haunted. By a cat. A cat that looks eerily identical to the recently-deceased Tootsie. It's like a bad horror movie.