Father's Day

Father's Day is bittersweet for me.  It is a day to celebrate your dad and give him presents and spend the day with him and thank him for being a great dad.  But since I don't have my dad here to do those things, it makes me very sad and I want to say "Fooey" on the whole thing.  However, I can't do that.  Why?  Because it isn't fair to a different very special Dad in my life....my husband.  See last year was my first fatherless Father's day and I couldn't even look at a father's day card without tearing up.  So my children made their own for Scott and that was pretty much all that was done.  Anyone else might have gotten upset or hurt over this, but not Scott.  He completely understood and had no problem.  Besides what is better than handmade cards?

However, this year, as painful as it may be, I am going to celebrate Father's Day.  I am going to celebrate it for the best dad in the world...Scott.



Prom 98...probably youngest picture I have of Scott



When Scott became a dad, he was clueless.  Truly, we both were, but he was especially clueless.  It isn't that hard to believe because how many 18 year old boys do YOU know who can change diapers and heat bottles and feed a baby and bathe a baby and can even HOLD a baby?  He certainly didn't know how to do any of that.  But he did.  He didn't mind a 2 am feeding.  He actually made use of it.  Once when Joel was a baby Scott was up with him in the night.  There was nothing on tv, but infomercials so while he was feeding Joel he taught himself to say the alphabet backwards.  And yes...he can still do it.  (I know...weird!) 

Scott also had a weird connection with Joel.  He could get him to calm down almost instantly by singing to him.  Singing what?  Twinkle Twinkle Little Star?  Nah...Mary Had a Little Lamb?  Nope.  Maybe it was Frere Jacques?  No can do.  It was either "Under the Bridge" by Red Hot Chili Peppers or "Bad to the Bone."  No joke.  Joel LOVED them and would calm down as soon as Scott started in.  Note...Scott started in...Mama couldn't do it, it took Daddy. 

Rhianna was a daddy's girl from day one.  Unlike Joel (who didn't like me enough), I was able to nurse Rhianna.  Scott was on board but was bummed because he really wanted to be able to feed her. I was able to pump one bottle a day.  It was used at 3 am for a nighttime Daddy/Daughter feeding.  One of my favorite memories of Scott and Rhianna is when she was so little.  She would sleep with her head on Scott's chest, her little baby butt up in the air with her legs tucked under her on Scott's stomach.  She would fall asleep instantly.

 



When Zaia came along, I didn't know how Scott would be able to work having TWO daughters.  I mean, can you be wrapped around 2 little fingers?  The answer is OH YEAH!!  Zaia is a full on love girl and her number one target is Daddy.  She loves to climb on him and hang on him and hug and kiss him. 

Scott is an amazing father.  He has always been right there in the trenches.  He has been pooped on, peed on, puked on, cried on, snotted on and of course, loved on.  Scott is a great dad, but of course how could he not be?  He is just an overgrown kid himself...

The day of my birth....

For some reason I am that girl who has a hard time with numbers.  Not math, although it kicks my butt too, but birthday numbers.  You know "Oh my gosh I can't believe I am turning XYZ!"  Yup...that is me.  And how annoying.  I just want to be all cool about it and let it roll off my back, but I just can't.  I fret and deny and want to avoid the number.  Be aware, that I don't want to let the actual BIRTHDAY go to waste.  I am too much of a princess to not embrace a day that is ALL mine.  A day that I get to say "Hey!  You do what I want because it's MY day."  A day when I can get a Dairy Queen ice cream cake even though I know my children won't eat it (what?!) and not feel guilty because it's MY DAY!!  A day when I get presents and people plaster awesome messages all over my Facebook wall.  No...I will not give that up.  However, I just don't want the number.

And why not?  It's just a number.  My great grandma used to say "It isn't how old you are, it's how old you feel."  Sure that is a good thing to live by.  Except for those days when this 30 year old girl feels 50.  But it has always been a thing for me.  When I was younger I was excited about birthday numbers.  "Oh yea!  I am two hold hands!!"  Or "13! I am finally a teenager!"  Or "I get to drive!! Hooray for 16!"  And so on...until 25.  I had a hard time with 25.  Maybe because most of my friends were just starting careers and families.  Or maybe not starting families.  And here I was married for 7 years with 3 kids.  I don't want you to think I am complaining.  I am BLESSED to have that husband and 3 kids.  They are all amazing and make life worth living.  However....25 with all that seemed...well it seemed like I was OLD.  

Now, here I am 5 years later at 30 and I have been married almost 12 years with an 11.5 year old, a 7 year old and a 5 year old.  It just makes a girl feel....OLD.  Ugh.....

So for the next month or so, I will still say I am 29ish, or 29 with a year of experience or some other cute moniker.  Then I will just break down and admit to my glorious age of 30. 

Big Day....UPDATE

So today is a big day.  Finally.  Scott, Zaia and I get to meet with her surgeon.  Since April, we have been anxious to have this appointment.  Well, I have been anxious.  Scott is laid back and confident in most everything that goes on, and Zaia doesn't really understand this appointment, so yes, it is I who is anxious.

I am anxious to have a date for surgery.  I am anxious about what all surgery entails.  I am anxious about how Zaia is going to do.  I am anxious for Joel who is a worry wort and how he will deal and feel with it.  I am anxious for Rhianna who I had no idea was worried about it until a few weeks ago.  She commented to someone that she shares a room with Zaia and if the "Doctor can't fix her, then she might die and I will sleep alone."  

Um...how do you tell a 7 year old that her little sister, whom she doesn't remember life without, is NOT going to die.  And how do you say that with 100% confidence, when that is the one thought you FORCE yourself to push to the bottom of the emotion barrel because it is too hard to even try to think about?  And how do you prepare yourself for your child's open heart surgery and her as well when we both were in tears over stinking SHOTS?

I know the answer.  Lean on Him.  Lean on Him and give it to Him.  But I have to say it is HARD for me to do.  At least all the way...You know I got that 'lean in but still be on my feet' thing down, but for this I do believe it will take a more 'You carry me and I will just lie there in Your arms' approach.  I am not so good with that. 

While I don't believe I am a control freak, I do have controlling tendencies.  And that 'give it ALL to God' thing trips me up. 

So all of this to say....Pray for me.  Pray for Zaia.  Pray for Joel.  Pray for Rhianna.  Pray for Scott.  Pray for Dr. Fortuna (her surgeon).  Pray.   Pray that I may willingly and easily give all of this to God.  Pray that this will be as "fun" and easy as it could be for Zaia.  Pray that Joel will also give his worries to God and have peace that his sister will be fine.  Pray that Rhianna's big adult fears will be taken from her and she can just be 7.  Pray for Scott as he is such a rock and will need so much strength to hold us together.  Pray for Dr. Fortuna that his decisions are God's decisions and we are all on the same page.
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UPDATE

After our appointment, I feel less anxious!  Dr. Fortuna was very nice and informative.  He made sure that Scott and I understood just exactly what was going to happen and that we understood it all.  He was glad to hear that we have researched it and had some knowledge so we could understand and be "ok" with everything.

So the big day is scheduled for July 5.  Yup, July 5.  We will do family fun fireworks on the fourth (say that 3 times fast) and heart surgery on the 5.  I told Scott that is perfect timing.  Not too soon, but not too far away either.  Zaia will have pre-op testing on June 30 and that same day we will tour the hospital and talk with the child life specialist.  Joel and Rhianna will go with us that day.  They are excited because I told them they could ask as many questions as they need to. 

Gardening and Evangelism

I had a conversation with someone a while back about gardening.  You know, plants and flowers and lovely yards.  (If you know me, you would have read that in a sing songy sarcastic voice.  If you didn't read it correctly the first time, I encourage you to go back and read it right.)  I hate gardening.  Don't get me wrong, I like flowers.  I like to look at them, and when it is pleasant, I like to smell them.  However...I have no desire to spend $800 down at Lowe's to trek in plants and dirt and pretty rocks and weed killer and rakes and shovels and seeds.  I have no desire to waste a perfectly perfect Saturday on my hands and knees in dirt, digging and planting and pulling weeks.  <------THAT, sounds WAY too much like work to me.  And work does NOT belong on my Saturdays.   See here for proof. 

So anyway...back to the conversation.  I was talking about how I "love" to garden and that is why our wonderfully landscaped backyard, is not so wonderfully landscaped anymore. 

Back story...We bought our house from people who LOVED to garden.  And not the way I love to garden, but the way a....well...a, uh...person who loves...to...garden...loves gar..den..ing.   Anyway...There were 2 ponds and tons of rosebushes and other random flowers and different grasses and I think some small trees, or I don't know what all.  I just know that none of it came back the way it looked when we moved in.  Which means, it was all very high maintenance.  Ew.  The ponds were taken out immediately (We had small children.  I didn't need any drowning incidents.) The grasses have been mowed over, the 75 hostas are no more, the rosebushes have been hacked at (although, there is some right outside the window that I currently see.  Haven't seen any roses in 2 years, so surprise on me) and the only real left overs are the bleeding hearts which are no maintenance and I adore. 

This person was shocked.  "You mean you just tore it all out?"  She was full on disgusted with this idea and I was like "Yup.  Sure did."  Then I was informed of all the wonderful plants that are so easy to grow and how you don't have to do anything except for plant them.  And in my head I added, "yeah and water them, and not mow over them, and make sure the animals aren't eating them and, and, and, 100 other things that I don't want to waste my Saturdays on."  So I did the polite thing.  I nodded my head and looked interested while my brain tape just kept saying "Blah Blah Blah.  Is this conversation over yet?"

Later I was replaying this in my mind and I had a thought....Do we evangelize the way people talk to me about gardening?

I mean really....When we find out someone isn't a Christian, or has a different world view than us, do we try to change them and make them "right?"  Do we look at them in disgust as if what is wrong with you? You don't know how awesome I am?  Here let me give you a list of how I can make you better.  And I say "we" because, let me be honest and frank.  I don't evangelize.  I am not against it, actually I whole heartedly believe it is something I should be doing.  I just don't.  I am afraid of doing it.  I am afraid that people will look at me the way I look at them when they are talking to me about gardening.

*Head bob*  Yeah, that sounds nice.  Wow, I didn't know that.  *Blah blah blah.  Is this conversation over yet?*

SO maybe I am just rambling, but maybe instead of trying to convert, and make others right, we should take a page from...oh I don't know...maybe JESUS and just love people.  Just love people.   Wow.  That doesn't sound much easier....

I think this though has evolved into a different blog.  Once which I will save for another day....

Grief, Guilt and all that goes with it

This afternoon I am off accompanied by my three children to Clinton, Ky.  It's a small town in Western Ky.  Very homey.  I like it.  Unfortunately we are not going for a vacation.  We are going because my Grandmother died last Thursday night at the age of 93.

I am having LOTS of mixed emotions.  Of course I am sad, but I can't help but be excited for her.  She gets to live with JESUS.  Jesus ya'll!  No more pain, or hard time getting around.  No more 4 walls of a nursing home caging her in.  She gets to skip and run and laugh all the way to Jesus' feet!  Plus, in my Heaven, you remember your loved ones and have a grand party whenever.  Which means Granddaddy met her with open arms and overalls. 

But the worst emotion I am feeling right now is jealousy.  Jealousy for my kids.  I had almost 30 years with both my grandmas in my life.  I had 15 years with one grandpa and 13 with the other.  I even got time with my great grandparents.  But my children only had 3, 4, 9 years with their grandpa.  THREE YEARS.  FOUR YEARS.  NINE YEARS.    And all that I wrote in that last paragraph applies to my dad too.  But you know what my reaction is.

FOOEY!

Fooey...because 61 is TOO young.  3 is NOT an appropriate age to lose your Papaw.  28 is NOT an appropriate age to bury your father.

And I feel so GUILTY.  I feel guilty because I should be grieving for Grandmother.  I should be reflecting on her life and all the memories with her.  And all I see is my dad.  All I hear is his last words to me.  All I feel is this HOLE that my DADDY filled up and it is empty.

So yeah.  At times I feel as if I have grieved and moved on.  I can talk about Dad and not bawl.  I can laugh at him and his horrendous spelling.  I can see pictures and smile.  But then there are times when the mention of his name brings torrential amounts of tears.  Watching a video and hearing his voice, and I am hurting and aching just like the day he died. 

So as I am attending my grandmother's visitation and funeral and visiting with family I haven't seen in so long, I will be thankful for her long life.  I will be thankful for years and years with 4 children, 10 grandchildren, 24 great grandchildren and 1 great great grandchild.  I will be joyous that she is living it up in Heaven, partying with Jesus.  But I will also, secretly, be harboring my anger and jealousy that my dad didn't do those things.  And hopefully I will be able to work on those feelings.  But to be honest.  Not now.  Maybe next week or next month.  But not today.  And not tomorrow.  *Sigh*  Bare with my God, I am still just a child in need of your guidance and patience.

BOOBS I tell you...BOOBS!!

I have had more than one person ask me about how I was doing because Zaia will be going to kindergarten in the fall.  It makes me sad, but to be honest, I am not thinking about it much because I have bigger fish to fry.

Joel is going to be attending the middle school next year.  Yes, you know, JUNIOR HIGH.  As in, pimples and hormones and...well...BOOBS!

No, not for Joel, but on others.  You know, the GIRLS. 

I just (and by just, I mean, like 90 seconds ago) dropped him off for his first dance.  Yes...DANCE.  The student council at the middle school is hosting a dance for 5th through 8th grade.  A sort of "hello" to the 5th graders coming into the school and a "goodbye" to the 8th graders leaving for high school.  *Shutter* 

Don't get me wrong, I am excited for him.  I LOVED dances.  I was (maybe still am...) into all the drama that could come out of it.  "I am in LOVE with him but he won't even say HELLO!!!  We are supposed to be friends!  What a jerk!" or "Why does that guy keep standing by me.  I don't even like him!" or "Oh my god Becky.  Look at her butt..."  Oh wait...I never said that...Just DANCED TO IT!!!! 

So yeah....I REALLY don't believe that 1)my son is old enough to go through all those emotions (He's just a little BOY!!!) and more importantly 2) I am old enough to be the mother of someone going through all those emotions (I am YOUNG!! YOUNG I say!!).

So yeah...I just dropped him off for his first dance and he was so excited.  And I am excited for him....as I watched those girls with their BOOBS follow behind him.   Oy vey!

Stay Tuned

I have had lots of thoughts and wanted to blog many, many times in the past week.  I just haven't.  I have three or four good blogs partly worked out in my brain.  I just haven't made the time to finish them.  I have been preoccupied.

Sorry.

However, this is my "Next week on....." message.  I still am not taking the time to work them out.  But I promise when I do, you might be bombarded with blogs.  So for now.....Stayed tuned.