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By: DeLynn Howard on March 7, 2012 - 10:34am - Add new comment

It happened yesterday morning.

I knew it would at some point but I wasn't prepared for it.

To be completely blunt, my 20-month-old daughter, Isabella, told me she pooped before we left our house to go to daycare.

Yes, folks. You heard correctly. My "baby" told me she dirtied her diaper.

I couldn't believe my ears. I was sure it was a fluke. So I asked her. She repeated herself. Twice.

We headed into her bedroom to change her diaper and sure enough, she had done exactly what she said she did.

By: DeLynn Howard on March 3, 2011 - 12:07pm - Add new comment

I did it. I took the plunge.

I got a mini van.

No, I'm not a soccer mom; my daughter is only eight months old and nowhere near ready for cleats.

But we, as a family, were ready for more room, and the ease of getting the baby in and out of our vehicle.

With my PT Cruiser (which I loved and owned three of), it was not conducive to having a baby. Because my daughter's car seat sat in the middle of the back seat, I would literally have to get in my back seat and sit down in order to get her loaded and unloaded. What a hassle! And bad on the back!

By: DeLynn Howard on December 7, 2010 - 6:40pm - Add new comment

My mom and dad call me Punkin. And no, that's not a misspelling. It's not Pumpkin, like what you carve at Halloween or the pie you eat at Thanksgiving. It's just Punkin. It never really bothered me much growing up. Lots of people have nicknames, right?

My Grandpa Trowbridge called me Swede. I have no idea why. I'm not sure if I ever heard him even call me by name.

My Grandma Trowbridge called me DeLynnda. In fact, she suggested that as my birth name but my parents went with just DeLynn (which is strange enough, let alone adding "da" on the end). Geesh.