Babies, Books, and Birthdays

I dreamed my baby girl walked. She strutted her stuff wearing nothing but a frilly diaper cover.  Jumping in the air with arms stretched in spirit fingers, I yelled, "Yay! Go, Baby Girl! Mommy is so proud of you!"

 In my dream, little Miss Independent looked over her bare shoulder and stared right into my eyes. I was almost too distracted by her bright blues and flawless skin to notice one dimpled hand gripping a cigarette.

The next generation?

Then she blew smoke rings at me.  

Go ahead. Psychoanalyze me.

She'll be one in a couple of months.  ONE. I've pinned a few ideas for her party.

So much happens in a year.

Next week, I'm helping celebrate a friend's book birthday.  So, check back for your chance to win an autographed copy of an award winning--and hilarious--book.