Baby books have been around for I don't know how long now & I don't know of a single mother in the world who doesn't have one. Those books have a flaw though. They should extend far past babyhood. They should go into the junior high years and even later still into the senior high years and married life. Take it one step more into motherhood for your baby's baby book. Yes, do trace your child's life slam up until she herself is a mother. I mean after all, she is YOUR baby regardless of age.

In the junior high years you could post for your precious angel a picture...the same one that's in the year book because you and all of Gods angels know she's not going anywhere with the family for a potrait it's just not cool! The year book picture would show her with hair as hard as concrete and a hard headed attitude to match. It would be nice if you could clip a sprig or two for the little envelope on the corner of the page but that would require the blade of a granite tile cutter & his skills. In these your baby's "blossoming" school years she is an Einstein & the darling girl knows it all and only listens to what you have to say if you're saying "yes". This is also the time that you as a mother will begin to lose any sense of sanity you were once so blessed with. Note this in the form of a graph right there on the junior high page of your baby's baby book so that you can begin to track just exactly when it is you'll need to take your very first Prozac dose!

In the senior high years of your little angel you'll start to see where she really does have a brain and it looks as if she may be allowing it to do other things outside of control her breathing and other involuntary reflex actions. Such pride you feel in her until she starts to hang out with HIM...the one whose soul purpose in life is to see how close he can come to making you like one of the followers of Charles Manson. Your baby thinks he's cooler than the latest IPod while you want to beat him to death with one! Who is this girl now? You had her! You raised her thus far! What happened? The only way you could possibly get her attention when he's around would be to set yourself on fire and that would only add to the already mounting expense of her being a senior. You should probably put a match to the senior high baby book page as a reminder of your rage against him and her lack of attention where you, her mother is concerned! Just set it on fire for a second or two then put it out. Years from now this charred page will serve to remind you of the fact that you would've gone to hell had you done what you then wanted. It would bring you some pleasure great or small to know that HE is by now married with 6 kids and living in a single wide with his family. What did you expect on a Sonic Burger salary? One other thing, you should probably stop and say a little prayer that he doesn't grow up to be the CEO of Samsung. Should fate throw in this curve ball then by all means be prepared to either tolerate the "I told you so" thing or move & change your identity.

Awwww...look at the baby book page now! She's getting married! Your wallet's going: "You're kidding me right?" but it's the last thing you'll do for her as your baby. At least that's what you tell yourself. So you chip in here and there. You get what you can so that her day will be special. Who cares that you have an abcessed tooth, ingrown toe nails and a bad back? You'll pay last months power bill this month and this month's power bill next month and there you go...your little darling has what she's always wanted for her wedding. You'll stand back and watch her be all giggly with her bridesmaids and bridal shower guests while you brown bag some of the food since you can no longer afford to eat unless its out of a garbage can. You'll sit back and notice how her hair is the color of yours and has the same curl to it. She'll turn to the side and you'll think how she looks like her daddy but face on she reminds you of yourself. You'll remember the teenage angst and the battles, the laughter and the tears and then she'll walk down the isle in that dress and you'll think when it's all done....ALL THAT FOR LESS THAN 30 MINUTES?!?!? ...and she's gone. The next time you see her and her husband the two of you will be almost like strangers and your heart will break. It will be the one and only time you'll wish your little angel had never met him. He helped her grow up. On this baby book page you should probably put a picture of just you and her. A picture of her right after you had her because it was in that moment that your heart was so filled with love that no one else on earth existed. Put that picture there and no other. You'll need to turn to this page more as time goes on.

The last and final page of your baby's baby book should be when she's got a baby of her own. For nine months you'll wonder what her baby will look like as much as she will. You'll watch her belly grow, watch her wobble when she walks and you'll dread for her her labor pains. He'll call you when it's time and you'll be so anxious you can hardly sit still but she doesn't want you near and every piece of advise you give her is met with a smirk. You'll wonder why. What did you do? How long has she thought of you as an annoyance? What is it that you're doing that annoys her so? Is it everything or does it just feel like it. You've never heard her speak to any other adult the way she speaks to you. You were the one who taught her not to do such a thing & so you can literally feel your heart shatter when she looks at you that way and spits out words so nasty they sting. You'll catch yourself time and again not saying anything at all to avoid that "useless" feeling. When did it happen that everything you say is immediately labeled as stupid, ridiculous, foolish or even red neck? When did this child of yours stop caring if she hurt your feelings and would often times rather hurt yours than her friends? When did you become an after thought? You will remember times when, even though she was right there you would still call her on your way home or send her an e mail from work. You'll catch yourself in a disbelieving state physically speaking the words...."we were so close". Wrestle with your memory and see if you can figure out when it was that she started giving you short answers to questions meant to spark a conversation. She once would share her news and you would share yours and the conversation always ended in "I love you". Write that down on this the last page of your baby's baby book. Write in bold red print....."I LOVE YOU" then find a picture of your baby...make it your favorite picture. It doesn't matter how old she was in it just that it's your favorite for whatever reason. Now place that picture there with the words then close the book and put it away. The world is full of things to do and you've done the biggest one already. Go and find the you that was almost completely lost in the role of being mom...but always have your phone turned on because you never know when she might call to say "I love you Mom."

This past weekend I went to see Emma in Georgia. The trip for me is about 5 or 6 hours long depending on if I'm going to be brave enough to break every speeding law in the land. I've made this trip enough times now to know pretty much what to expect. It occured to me on my way back this Sunday that I can just about tell you where the driver of a car is from before I see the tags. For example: If I see a filthy 1990 Pontiac Grand Am with a set of ears, red hair and a line of chewing tobacco spit down the drivers & passengers side doors then I know the driver is from Tennessee. He's usually going 10 to 15 miles over the speed limit and once he passes that's your two second chance to see what slogan is written beside any of the 6 Rebel flags that adorn his bumper that's being held up by the ever faithful duct tape. Seriously, I've never met anyone from Tennessee that DIDN'T have red hair. I won't even give you the reason why I think THAT might be! I will say though that you could get arrested for it!

Now if I happen along beside a jet black 2010 Cadillac Escalade with midnight black window tint then I know two things: 1. WATCH OUT! This guy has a total eclipse going on right there inside his ride and probably thinks its night which means he could very well fall asleep at any moment! 2. The driver is no doubt about it dealing and delivering cocaine and is bobbing his head slowly to some Lil Wayne tune as he laughs at the blue collar workers he's passing along the way. Where's the driver from? Where else...Florida! Most likely Miami. He's jammin' to Lil Wayne and I'm humming the Miami Vice theme wishing Crocket and Tubbs would pop up out of the back seat of that Escalade and snap some cuffs on the driver and the posse that I know is in there somewhere with the head bobbing dude! I missed my calling. I should've been undercover vice cruising 95 in a metallic gunpowder grey Charger with a scoop! .

When I see someone coming up beside me I look down in their car and if it's like cold enough to see your breath and/or to hang a side of beef and the driver, his wife and the 3 kids in the back seat have on T shirts and micro mini cut off shorts then I know that those people are from Maine! The dead giveaway is the black one strap Nike swoosh flip flops with tube socks. When in doubt, check the feet out! Riddle me this: What would possess you to get in your car (a 2009 Toyota Yaris by the way) and drive 14 to 16 hours with 3 kids??? Are the kids really asleep in the back seat or did you knock them unconscious oh say around about New York? I bet they are unconscious because they asked the dreaded question one too many times, the one every child asks on a long trip: "Are we there yet?" Should I call 911 for child abuse? Nah, they've done this before. Mom has smelling salts waiting for them. Those yankees are just so smart!

A red truck, a black truck, a Ford or a Chevrolet. Jacked up a little higher than usual or so high you've got to buy a step ladder as an accessory; if you see a cartoon white bulldog baring his teeth sticker anywhere on this vehicle you can bet the grandkids inheritance the driver is from Georgia. If that's not enough of a clue then look for the elbow or forearm dangling from the drivers side window. This guys going to drive beside you for a mile or FIVE so that you can't hear yourself think because of the WAH, WAH, WAH, WAH from his tires! WAH, WAH tires =manly man in Georgia! If this truck slows down it's so the WAH, WAH from his tires doesn't drown out the George Jones CD he just put in! This is your chance to get as far away as possible or end your trip with ringing ears and a migraine!

So, you're trying to come off an entry ramp back on to 95 and you and the guard rail are about to get to know each other a little more than you ever wanted to because the as*hole in the red convertible Sebring won't let you over even though the highway is currently like the population of Mars! Three lanes to choose from and he's not moving...he's smirking for sure but he's not moving. Where's he from? No where else but New York! Maybe I should add that to my list of "Why I dearly despise the New York Yankees" don't you think? It's times like these that I wish they sold bottled pee in the convenience stores off of 95 so that I could keep me some under the seat for New York drivers in convertibles! Hmmm...I could be an entrepreneur! Hire me a pitch man...go on QVC and sell my bottled pee by the millions! I could call it SAY MO! (Stupid Ass Yankee Move Over) I would out sell Joan Rivers and her Family Dollar Store looking jewlery for sure! I'll hit the patent office up first thing tomorrow! "Say Bro...don't you need some SAY MO?" How's that for a slogan?!

Here comes a white, well ok, it's dirty but it's supposed to be white van! The spare is being used so it's lopsided. All of the windows look like they have that sticky paper on them. You know that paper you can buy to make a window look like it's etched? That's what it looks like all over the vans windows but it's just that dirty...for real! Of the 6 people in the van that you can count none of them are moving. I mean they're not talking to each other, not looking at each other, not playing the ABC we've got a long trip ahead of us game nothing! They're all, even the driver, like manneqins! My first thought: They all ate at that truck stop that also has XXX rated DVDs on sale and they've gotten food poisoning which is effecting their muscles! When the Rottweilers head pops up barking like crazy and slinging foam and STILL the people don't move is when I know it's time to press the old gas pedal with some gusto and get out of the way! West Virginia tags...I don't think I need to say more! How far can you go on a dough nut spare anyway?

On the front of a Beamer coming along beside me is a UNC Chapel Hill tag! The Tarheel colors are proudly displayed by the driver and she fits the college girl image. How cute is she? Blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail, petite compact cheerleader body. A necklace is what it looks like is hanging from her rear view mirror. It's probably some sorority thing huh? Clean, nice car! I wonder where she and her parents are from? I bet she's driving to see them. Her mom is probably a professor somewhere while her dad is some lawyer who has commercials on every tv station south of the Mason Dixon. Both of them went to UNC so the obvious place for Buffy to go is UNC as well! I mean she's a shoe in after the huge dinner party hosted by bejeweled mom with all of the who's who in admissions at UNC. She drives on past me...GASP! Say it ain't so! NO! This can't be! The tags PLAINLY read: SOUTH CAROLINA! Blasphemy! There should be an eleventh commandment about this! I'm immediately disappointed in Buffy and believe wholeheartedly that she should be grounded for the rest of her life! You're either a Tarheel or a Gamecock fan Buffy...You can't be both! Make up your mind or the maid will no longer do your dirty laundry!
Now you can't tell me you've never paid any attention to people as they're driving! You haven't? Really? Well then, might I suggest I95 north or south...it really doesn't matter. O the things you'll see...surely something to write home about!