Joyful

Hello Darlin,

Nice to see ya.

It's been a long tiiiiiiimmmee, your just as lovely....

Ok. Stop throwing the tomatoes. I was just telling you how much I missed you and there were days when I thought about sitting down to write but then the baby would break through the baby gate and get a blue highlighter and commence to painting himself like a smurf.

Then there was this one time I started to tell you how awful my other job was to me when they found out about my other gig and they shorted me some hours, making it to where I had to call new boss and see about starting the other job early because I would be going a whole month without pay if I had started when I was supposed to.

Oh Yea.

I get paid once a month.

Like a teacher.

But I'm not, cause while I love my kids, I don't want to be cooped up in a room 26 other little darlings that eat crayons, or drive their teachers crazy with tech decks, or sneak there cell phones into class so they can text each other while they are sitting right next to each other. No way.

I went the opposite end other the spectrum.

It has nothing to do with butts as I just went back and read that.

I work with the elderly and disabled, making sure they have their bill paid while they are in the nursing home. I love it so much.

It is the kind of job, that when you look up, you realize you have been working for hours and it is either lunch time or time to go home.

The job is challenging and rewarding and just makes me happy.

Plus!

I have my OWN office.

My OWN phone line. (That Eric tried to prank call me on and was not so pleasantly surprised to find that I have caller ID. Hee Hee.

Gosh there is so much to tell but I have to get ready to go to my amazing job.

I will be reading and checking up on your blogs as fast as I can.

There are a few of you that have had a tough time from what I can tell and I am unbelievable sorry for your loss.

And some that have gotten answers to your prayers and that makes me giddy.

My family could be healthier, happier.

And I couldn't be more grateful, blessed.

Love Ya!

The mirror

"You don't have to nit-pick every single thing I do, ALL THE TIME", I said hotly.

"I wasn't."

"I just walked in the door. What is wrong with you?"

I looked at him through the bathroom mirror and said, "I am worried that I am not going to be able to do this job, when I have such a hard time managing our family."

There is was.

I wasn't mad at Eric. I was just afraid.

How many times have you said something harsh to your spouse or kids because you have nowhere else to lay the fear and the angst?

I do it way to often.

Eric knows me so well and he does get irritated but on days like today he just lets it roll off his back.

"You are going to do great at your job, ya know."

God, I love that man.

Eric steers our ship.

Sure I like to think that I am the brains of the operations.(I am soooo not.)

The planner, saver, shopper, cook, maid, hug giver etc.

But he is our captain.

He is the guide.

The more I learn about my relationship with my Savior, the more I learn about my relationship with my husband and THAT is exactly where I want to be.

Loving God completely gives me the power to love my husband in ways I never dreamed.

Who knew?

Inhibition? What inhibition.

Did yall see that crazy lady that climbed the local water tower and sat up there screaming, "I got it. I got the job"!!!!

Ok. So I didn't actually do that but if I was in better shape, and that water tower wasn't on the other side of town, you would be staring at my big butt as I shimmy up the latter.

I wanna dance.

I wanna sing.

I got the job!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not too loud as we might scare it.

So what have I been up too?

Hmmm.

We had a fantastic birthday party but I don't have home Internet right now so I can't upload the pics. We did the number "1" theme complete with a cupcake-cake shaped in a "1". Super cute. Anyone that is having a *midget b-day party, I highly recommend investing in a bubble maker. Eric got one at Wal-mart for six bucks and it was a huge hit. In fact we are still using it when Conner gets fussy and we want to calm him down.

E is still kicking some little league football booty, playing center. This has been quite an experience for me since I don't know jack about football and really don't care to know. But my little boy's job is to be the hiker and protect the quarter-back(I think). He is good at it and they have only lost one game and it was super close. His only beef is that he had to tackle a girl the other night and he felt weird(awww).

I applied for a very good job that I am border-line scared off but want so badly. It would be changing fields, somewhat, but taking what I love about my job and getting to do it all the time. It's workin for the man though so there are a bunch of hoops and the interview was one of those that you don't get to talk about what YOU want to talk about, it is a pre-determined list of questions like; describe a specific office conflict you have had in the past and how to deal with it. So I am going to say it was definitely not my best interview.

Also, here is a little tidbit about me. I tend to ramble about really weird and personal stuff when I am nervous, or sceered, whatever you want to call it. I may or may not have told my interviewer that I debated on eating lunch and I did and now my tummy was making weird noises. I actually said that.

THOSE WERE MY EXACT WORDS.

She laughed, but it was in that weird-uncomfortable way.

Then, I was thinking, "Wow, I think that totally broke the ice."

Now, I am thinking, "I am a MO--Ron".

I really, REALLY want this job.

It may end my blogging career..hardie har.. but I still want it.

I won't know their decision until next week so until then I will pray, hold my breath, make bargains, be nice to everyone I come in contact with(just in case), and pray some more.

Also I am thinking about dressing Connor up as King Julian, king of the lemurs in Madagascar, for all you people that are lucky enough to not have watched that movie 60,000 times this year. I think it will be cute and I can get the costume online for about 10 bucks.

Anyone else craving some pumpkin pie?

Retraction

I had to take down the last post because I came home to a beautifully cleaned house. See I told ya he reads my blog. It made me feel loved and understood.

It's his party and I'll cry if I want to.

I feel sorry for my kids today.

I feel bad that they don't have a mother who can plan birthday parties months in advance complete with a huge guest list, ponies, clowns..scratch the scary clowns..., but GAH!!

Conner's birthday is in three days and ask me what I have done in honor of the baby that I literally STOOD ON MY HEAD to have.

Nothing, zilcho, nadda, zero.

I don't have the cake ordered. I didn't send out invitations. I thought, "meh, I'll get to it."

That was a month ago and I simply never got to it.

Now I am all shitty and depressed that my baby won't have a good party Saturday and he will hate me and his dad will be his new favorite person when all he is going to do it SHOW UP!

And now I am all mad at Eric and he is not here to defend himself.

The reality is. Our family is well aware of his special day.

The ones that matter in his life will show up and don a party hat and watch him tear the shit out of his cake.

Then we will have a great dinner and laugh as a mess is made of the freshly cleaned dining room. And it will be ok.

It will be O-KIZ-AY. (Sorry, I have been watching a bunch of Madagascar)

He is here. He is healthy.

We will celebrate his first year of life Saturday with all our hearts.

I feel better now.

Grace and patience

My life is changing.

I didn't start this change. I am not even sure how it happened.

I am a new person.

I feel this urgency churning in my soul.

Something is happening in my life and I finally feel receptive for the plans laid out for me.

I am embracing my future.

I am loving my God.

Ok, I feel strange with that last statement.

I grew up in church.

Everyone around me seemed to get God. Seemed to hear him when he spoke. They has things figured out. Or so it seemed.

I pretended. I got very good at acting and I am sure I had some sort of relationship with Christ, but I wasn't a very good one. I knew what I was supposed to do and say to blend in with everyone else. I knew how to look "spiritual". But it was never me.
Finally when I just couldn't seem to find truth or make sense out of everyone elses truth, I gave up. I just couldn't live like them. It was too hard not to sin. As hard as I tried for perfection I just couldn't get there and I was tired.


For 10 years I pretended not to care. For a decade I have live the way I wanted. Done what was best for me. I didn't need God and he didn't need me. There were plenty of other people to do his will and I was happy to go my own way.

But he does need me!

He has my purpose.

I am his.

UHHGGGG. This sounds so cliche.

It is wonderful and crazy at the same time.

Everywhere I go I want to say, "Hey, Guess what"?

"I am tight with God again"

And then I feel all weird and like I can't go around yelling that. But I want to. Becuase

"Hey"

"Jesus is my homie"

OOH OOH AHH AHH

How is my half-assed job hunt going?

Well, let's see. I was told at an informal interview that a monkey could do my current job. But I was also told they probably couldn't afford me.

?

???

So, I am so great at doing so little, that I am worth a butt load.

That is the only positive spin I can put on it.

It's kinda funny actually.

I would be laughing if it were not so sad.

Gestapo? Me?

Today, I am thinking about the defining roles that Eric and I carry in our house.

He is the person that takes care of all the breaks, leaks, grass mowin, animal feeding, tire kicking, and big furniture moving. You know all the big male stuff that little ole' me can't handle.

I do the women's work. I know its sexist but my dad calls it that. Eric insinuates it. E is already jumping on the bandwagon with, "Hey Mom, what's for dinner?" and "I need clean socks!" Even the baby totally knows who to turn to when tummy is empty or boo boos need to be kissed. I do what I can to keep the house somewhat presentable. I am no Martha Stewart, but I am what they were given and I think they are satisfied for the most part.

And you know what? I totally love it. Sure, I may act offended sometimes when I come home and they are laying across the bar barely able to lift their limp, malnourished bodies because between the two of them (Conner is still totally innocent here) they can't figure out that a (made by them) pb&j will totally take that hunger pain away until mom can get in here and make dinner.

The real job I am questioning, is the one of the financial planner.

The money distributor.

The bill payer.

The financial. decision. maker.

I don't wanna do that anymore.

I have always been the one to pay the bills, calculate the budget and keep things rockin along.

We have had to make some drastic cuts these last couple of months and since I handle the money, I kinda feel like I am the bad guy handing out the meager allowances and cheep stipends for our weekly needs.

Eric refuses to keep up with the balance of the checkbook which makes ME have to tell him what is in there when he wants to make a purchase.

I kinda hate it.

We work so very hard and I just don't wanna be the doom and gloom of spend thrift all the time.

Sometimes I want HIM to give me my allowance and let me skip off freely while he handles the cable bill. HMMPH

In the face.

"Wow, your pregnant!"

I stared at Eric in the mirror as I was getting ready for work. "What makes you think that?"

"It's the same way I could tell last time", he crowed.

I start visually checking all my fatty deposits, ie: boobs, butt, tummy.

"No, you don't look fat." "I can just tell it in your face."

I just stared at him (silently thinking about punch him in the face.

Eric in sitting on the merry go round, calling for me to join him.

There are so many reasons not to.

Maybe the decision has already been made.

Foo-Fighters

Fights suck.

Husband, parents, children, best friends or co-workers. After an altercation you usually want to make amends in someway. Maybe it's a cold beer after a few punches. An email from a friend after a stupid fight. A good old fashioned shag with your hubby after an intense scream fest over the size of your family (ahem).

Then there are the fights that offer no resolution. There is no point. You will never see exactly eye to eye. You will never truly be at peace with the other person and you know the fights, well, they just keep coming.

And to me a fight can sometimes be therapeutic. You throw it out there. You take the other's crap and after you mull it over you can sort through the bs and find a middle ground. You grow stronger. Because generally you care enough to fight it out. You care about getting through the issues-to the other side. These fights I can take. In fact they are NECESSARY.

It's the stinky poo-poo heads that you will never ever resolve anything with but have no choice but to try anyway because, like it or not, you will be saddle-bagged to one another for AT LEAST the next 8 years.

And you really don't care. But you do. Because of the little person that, someday, you hope will grow up to be a NON-douche that actually cares about someone other than themselves.

Fighting is with THEM is futile.

Throwing a flaming bag of dog poo on their porch? Not THAT may get us somewhere.

Ma and Pa Kettle

My office smells like a teenager's Ford Focus.

Bubble yum bubble gum- Watermelon.

We have one of those spray thingies that they put a different scent in every month and think the guy came Monday, but I have been so stuffy with sinus crap that I just smelled it today.

Well Monday I was supposed to take my monthly trip to CVS to get my bp pills and Eric was all, "Why don't you just not go get them."

"Ha Ha", Chuckle, Chuckle, "OK honey"

"No, I'm serious, Let's just let things happen."

I just kinda stared at him for a minute, trying to figure out if he was serious or not. We have already been through this once when Conner was SIX WEEKS OLD.

"Are you sure?"

I started all the usual (and important) reason why having a baby right now (even though I am aware it could take another FOUR years.)

Finances

Space

Time

And he was all "It will work out".

So I didn't go get them.

AND I HAVEN'T LET HIM TOUCH ME.

AHEM.

The truth is.

I don't want to be pregnant right now. I didn't know how I would feel at a year since it was so difficult getting Conner here. I love my baby. I am completely insanely smitten with both my off springs. IN THE FUTURE (I don't know how long), I am gonna probably want one more little darling to hopefully grace our home with more baby puke and boogers(hopefully pink ones), but right now I IS TIRED.

Eric works nights.

Which means that I work every night.

I have had FOUR solid nights sleep in the past year.

I am not complaining. Just stating facts.

Now he is all butt hurt that I wont just lie back and let him plant his seed.

I feel guilty because even when he was not sure about Conner, I was. I knew having him would be the best thing we had ever done. He finally got on board but not at first. Now he is trying to do the convincing and I am sticking my fingers in my ears. But I is MY body that has to Carry another baby so soon. My boobs that will be the babies sole source of nutrition for six months. My feet that will resemble water balloons for ten months.

I just need another six months.

Or year...

Sigh...but I think he is serious.

And I feel like a bully.

Fall is in the air.

I can taste it.

Feel it.

Maybe it is because we have had 110 degree days and today it is in the lower 80's, but I still think the season is a changin.

I love, love, love fall.

I love the light jackets and the changing of the leaves. I like to take hikes and bike rides.

I love the pumpkins and the fall vegetables.

I like the crisp air and the clean feeling deep in your lungs. The kind of days where you don't feel the need to shower by lunch time, even though all you did was walk to your car but you are dripping with sweat and you shoes are all sweaty and gross.

Summer.

I am soooo over you.

Bena-chill!

The baby and I were hit with crippling allergies yesterday(on E's first day of school) and we both look pit-e-ful.

I sneezed and cried my way through the day, and when I went to pick him put he looked miserable.

I am really weird about medicine. I am not against it per say I just really have to feel they need it before I will give them anything and I always like to get the pharmacist's take on whatever it is that I am going to be administering cause let's face it; that is what they went to school for and they usually know more about the drugs than the doctors.

The pharmacist is going over the specifics of the different allergy meds and we decided on the basic benadryl since this was Conner's first bout with allergies. Pharmacist was going over the side effects and of course I know in the back of my mind, benadryl= more rest for baby AND mommy. "This medication cause marked drowsiness in most infants, but there are a few that get pretty anxious and WOUND (THE FUCK*)UP.

That is the moment that the cruel unjust hand of fate leaned over and whispered into my ear, "JINX"

My child was on all fours headbanging for about two hours in my living room last night. He would not eat and not only would he not eat he would throw everything I gave him in the floor and laugh. He climbed. He pulled the cats tail. Head butted his brother and almost made him cry. OH OH OH and poked me repeatedly in my allergy ridden eyes saying "Eye, Eye".

Eric in full charge tonight. Eye am going to bed ASAP.

*My words, not his.

A decade

10 years ago today I was handed a red-faced, screaming baby and called mom. I want to say that I was overcome with maternal instinct. That I instantly became this title. Mother.

The fact is however, that I was terrified.

What was I supposed to do now?

Surely they are not going to leave me alone with this tiny little baby and expect me to keep him alive, ALL BY MYSELF!!?!

But they did.

Later that evening I remember looking over at him in his little plastic bed and we locked eyes.

His eyes pierced my very soul.

That was when it came rushing in like a flood.

I will never forget that look.

The look of dependency.

The look of questions.

The first time to feel such a powerful love. The kind you would do anything for.

This creature was mine.

I could do this.

This morning I was awaken by those same eyes a decade later.

"Mom, Can I sleep in here for just a little while?"

I smiled and rearranged the covers and got him settled in.

"Happy birthday, son."

He smiled and we locked eyes.

"Thank you, mom"

July wrap-up

Where in the heck did summer go? 3 weeks until school starts? E is excited about school starting back. He can't wait. He is planning on asking the girl of his dreams to be his girlfriend. He has been planning all week. Can I get a collective Aawwwww?? He is starting football too, and for some reason he feels that this is going to cinch his cool status at school. I hope it does and I guess if he doesn't walk away with a concussion, it will be worth it.

Connor is just steps away from walking. He will stand in the middle of the floor all by himself but he just won't take that first step. I am kinda excited but not enough to loose my little baby that needs to be carried by hims, mommy. He says: Mama, Dada, & kitty. He points at everything he wants and physically throws his whole body away from anything he doesn't want. Last night I was trying to give him an animal cracker and he didn't want it because he wanted my pop-corn. Every time I would offer the cracker he would get on the floor and hide his head. I was laughing so hard I couldn't stop. Eric walked through and made me stop torturing him.

Life just feels so good right now.

There is some stuff that we wish we weren't going through. Bills are kinda crappy and we don't have a money tree in the backyard. But we are so happy.

I feel content.

I feel happy.

I went to church yesterday.

Not because I felt I needed too.

Just becuase I wanted to.

I went with the purpose of simply giving thanks for all we have.

I have had a strained relationship with God for awhile.

Church has always been an obligation.

Praying was something I was supposed to do.

Being a preacher's kid and pastor's grandkid always left me feeling judged. I know everything there is to know about religion, the bible, what you should and shouldn't do, but I don't think I ever really learned what MY relationship with God is like.

It's something I wanna know.

I want to come to God with no motives.

I did Sunday.

I think I can handle this kind of relationship.

The other was much too stressfull.

Well, Well,

Time flies when you are having fun.

I always have too little to say of too much.

Here lately, so much has been coming at us that I simply cannot write about for multiple reasons. A whole shit ton of good and just a few minor complications.

Privacy issues keep me from completely telling our family's story.

Our family of FIVE'S story.

I have a step-daughter who I will finally get to know.

I have never blogged about this before because the story is not mine, it's Eric's and it has always been such a touchy, painful issue that I just couldn't put into words. But the important thing is that we are getting an opportunity that we didn't think existed. I have a teen-age step daughter (eeek). My children have an older sister who is an absolute joy to be around.

I am not going into any more details.

I may in the future.

Who knows.

We are so very happy and I want to share. I do. I am just so very afraid of my blog. It's funny how something so good for you and therapeutic, can be a weapon if it fell in the wrong hands.

I toy with the idea of starting up another blog. One with nicknames and no pics so that I can just let it all hang out. Ya know?

But then if my blog makes the big time, then how will I ever appear on Dr. Phil without outing my family?

I keed, I keed.

I wouldn't go on Dr. Phil because I am afraid he will pick at my thread and figure out that I am severely screwed up or something. I don't wanna deal with my issues today, Dr. Phil, so just back off ok?

Just know that we are in suck a very awesome place in our family.

E is enjoying summer and taking a vacation about every other week so far. He went to Disney with Dad, Camping with the grandparents, stay cation with us, church camp next week, and the rest is to be determined. And can you believe he said this morning that he was ready for school to start? He is a weirdo that one.

Conner is ALL.MOST ONE.

Next month I will start planning his first birthday.

He is everywhere. All the time.

He eats anything in sight and (most of the time) it is food and not paper, grass, SLUGS or dog/cat food.

He is so close to taking steps that it is scary. He wants to. You can see it in his little face but he gets scared and sits down and crawls where he wants to go.

He is a MAMA'S boy. It is so bad that I think he would be happier if I had a kangaroo pouch for him to ride in. I kinda think this is a boobie thing and as flattered as I am, I am so ready for my boobs to be mine again.

Call me selfish.

I DON'T CARE.

Now he has slowed down quite a bunch this week cause I have been offering bottles to him. He was kinda put out at first but he has learned that he can be mobile with the bottle and as long as I am sitting approximately two feet away he will drink from the bottle and play. If I walk away then all bets are off.

I have loved breast feeding until now. Cried while looking down at his sweet face and feeling contentment that I have never felt before.

BUT.

Ya know how when you watch a mama dog try to wean their babies and the little puppy just hangs on and she is trying to get away and she looks kinda tired, cranky, OVER IT?

Well, send me hate mail, call me a sucky mom but I am tired of having my nipple stretched two feet because Conner is trying to snack AND play on his stand-up jazz piano thingie.

We are weaning.

I hope everyone is having a great summer.

We are and it is amazing!

RING AROUND THE ROSIOLA

Well, we survived our first childhood illness this week.

The baby is pokey dotted from head to toe. He looks pitiful. The dots are lightly scattered on his face and it gets thicker as you go down. The rash doesn't seem to bother him, but he is still pretty tired.

Saturday we battled a 103 degree fever and I held him literally all day long. Eric stayed home with us Saturday night and we all three camped out in the living room on E's full sized matress. E was at his dads so we borrowed his bed so that I could actually put the baby down while he was sleeping. He wouldn't sleep in his bed and I don't feel comfortable leaving him on my bed if I am not next to him. My plan didn't work though because he would only lay on the bed it I did so I spend 48 hours laying in the living room floor watching the first 2 season of Weeds*.

Sunday was a little better but he still didn't feel very good so we had a low key cookout with our parents. The rash broke out that night and as Conner started feeling better he decided he didn't need anymore sleep so we stayed up until 11:30 getting into everything we are not supposed to.

Now he has thrush.

Also, my boobs have it.

Thrush sucks and that is about all I know about it. I am waiting for the presciption and trying to find things that he can eat with a bum tongue.

I was getting worried cause he wouldn't eat but last night he discovered Mcdonald's french fries and ketchup and despite the thrush he mananged to eat about a cup full of it. So totally gross!

TWO'S DAY

My husband and I work the same schedule today. This never happens and for some reason I can NOT STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM. I feel weird like umm.. having some pretty naughty thoughts (Hi, mom-in-law). He is all dressed up and right down the street and I keep imagining him taking lunch when I do and meeting up at the house and ripping our...(CENSORED)

Of course this won't happen cause our house is filled with kiddo's and grandparents watching the kiddo's and cats and goldfishes, but it's a nice thought. Maybe we could just go have lunch together instead. Alone. At the park..

Geez I need to get a grip.

I think since he took the 3:30am shift with the baby I am just feeling a little appreciative. More sleep is HOT.

I felt bad for him this morning because he had a rough night with the baby. His exact words at one point were, "We are weaning this baby now! No more boobie for him!"

I had to take E to the ER last night due to a virus that is making him have some terrible headaches. We saw his DR yesterday morning and since it's viral we can't really do anything for him but treat the headache and two regular Tylenol didn't touch the headache or the fever so I had no choice but the bring him down and see if they could do anything for him.

We waited for 2 hours and still had not been seen at 9pm and the baby woke up and his boobie wasn't there and he was PISSED. He screamed for about 30 minutes and my husband almost met us up at the ER just to make sure the baby wasn't coming down with anything. He wasn't. He was just very unhappy that the booby lady stepped out on him.

I feel bad. I know that breast is best. But when breast is the only thing that makes him happy, it is hard on any person that tries to soothe him.

E's headache went away before we were even seen so we decided to try going back home and if it got worse through the night coming back up there. They basically said there was nothing to do and he was welcome to lay in a dark room with a cold cloth on his head while waiting another two hours to be seen by an actual DR; who would probably just give him Motrin and send him home.

We decided we could do that at home and this morning he seemed to be feeling much better.

Conner was his normal happy self after feeding about 3 times after I got home.

I was actually feeling pretty good having the extra sleep. Eric, however, had the dazed no-sleep, haggard face I usually have.

Eric asked what was wrong with Conner last night.

"Honey, this is an every night thing." I gave him a kiss and said, "Try to focus cause by 3pm, you will probably want to kill yourself."

Self Feeding?

As Conner chowed down on breakfast in his walker, I busied myself with the morning chores thinking how self feeding has made the morning routine just a little easier and really just patting myself on the back because I am starting to get this whole life tornado to stop spinning so violently.

I go to get him and clean him up for the day and am quite suprised how little mess there was to clean up.

While in the midst of my afternoon break, it dawned on me why the area was so clean.

Our little dog was running around unsuprovised also..

AAAAAACK.

Mother of the year?

I DIDN'T THINK SO.

Genetics

One of my earliest memories is Spending the weekend at my Aunt Elly's for family reunions. We lived next door to my great-grandmother and she would take me down a day early and all the women would gather in the kitchen, cooking, gossiping, all in the name of preparing for the 50 or so people that would come down on Friday night and stay through the weekend.

Aunt Elly lived in a small 2 bedroom frame house with a huge kitchen on the back and a bigger sun porch on the front. Her home was very simple and even though there was indoor plumbing ,the last and most recent modern addition to her home, there was also an outhouse.

My favorite thing to do was lay under the large claw foot table in her kitchen while the cooking and laughing commenced over my head.

That night I would curl up with my grandma in a soft feather bed with lots of feather pillows and giggle all the while her laughing and softly patting me on the leg to calm me into sleeping. I would roll over and grasp her earlobe between my fingers and drift off into perfect sleep.

The next day as family members would drift in, playmates would be added to the group one by one.

We chased chickens.

We fed the horses.

We made mud pies.

Adam would cry because he got dirty. Jack would cry after we made him sample the pie.

It was worth standing in the corner.

All eleven times.

Food was plenty. Even if the chickens were prepared from start to finish RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

Love was abundant.

My first glimpse of the fibers that knitted together who and what made me.

This weekend we will travel to a family reunion.

The location will be different.

More modern.

I will be one of the women in the kitchen.

My children will be making the pies and standing in the corner.

Some of the same people will be there and some will be looking down from above.

But the thing that won't change?

The Love.

You know when you start that new relationship and you are all swooning in it's awesome sauce, dreaming of the happy future you will have together?

And then. AND THEN.

You google them to find out there is a website full of scorned woman who have been jilted by this peter puffer? Such things as taking money and making empty promises that they could never deliver. Leaving you stranded on the side of the road with no cab fair and a broken stap on your flip flop in 90 degree heat and you have to hop on one foot to the nearest payphone to call for a ride as to not burn you bare foot on the nasty pavement. Making YOU pay THEM while you are the "worker bee" in the relationship?

Well, this really hasn't happened to me. I mean it DID, but it wasn't a man so much as a stinkin company.

The company's name is Smelly Hippo Cooters.

Ok that is not really the name but the initials are the same.

I have spent the last week in a fog thinking that this may be a great opportunity for me. Doing what I feel in my bones I should be doing. I was dreaming of coming home exhausted and fulfilled. Knowing that I was helping people. The perks. The money. My chance to put all the training I have had to use. To use my license for the purpose it was intended.

That dream ended at 11:47pm with a quick google search.

I read on and on about all the disgruntled previous employees.

I am heart broken.

Stupid Smelly Hippo Cooters.

*"Why you gotz to lie, Craig?"

*"Why you gotz to liiieeee."

Eric did remind me that I should be thankful that I do have a job. And it is with a major player in the industry. Even though I don't like the position. Somewhere there is potential.

Well, He didn't say all that he just said, "Be thankful you gotz a job", but I like my affirmation better.



*Bonus points if you can tell me what movie this if from. No prize though except for my love and devotion.

Knock it off

Dear Top Colleges,

Stop calling to speak to my boss. Please.

He did not request information on colleges on the Internet yesterday.

IT was me and it was a total accident.

To the ass-monkey that I spoke to on the phone,

"You will not be able to talk to my boss for him to request to be taken off your list. He has a PHD and, I assure you, has no interest in furthering his college career."

The only reason that you were alerted of this request is I accidentally clicked the wrong button on a pop up and I don't need you alerting HIM that I was dicken around on the Internet.

No Thanks.

Have a nice day.

Back in the stirrups

I gained four pounds since Conner started eating more solid foods. I guess I can no longer shove whatever I want down my gullet and expect him to suck the pounds away.

Silver lining= I found hot, mail(I just went back to reread, which I hardly ever do and I mean MALE. I just wanted you to see what everyone else is dealing with on a day to day basis with me.) yoga in the Netflix work-out instant watch section. I think that might be enough to get a morning work-out routine started.

I am not sure what is wrong with me but I have been feeling very light-headed the last couple of days. I went for my birth-control check-up. It's ACTUALLY my annual exam but I only went because they threatened to not give me my pills; and even though it took 3 years to have our bundle of joy, the thought of doing it again so soon sort of get me panicky. (I really didn't expect to feel that way)

But ANYWAY,

I have been feeling like I am perpetually tipsy, buzzed, spacey, dreaming, but not in a good way. Moving my head to fast makes me dizzy. Reaching above my head and things like that I can't tolerate right now so I am getting a little alarmed.

My Dr. check my ears for infection and my blood for anemia and my blood-sugar and there is no reason for me to feel this way. My blood pressure was border-line high, which is very strange since it was perfect during pregnancy but they said it is something we need to watch.

So my doc said, "Call me if it doesn't go away."

Me,"How long?"

Him, "Whenever, it will probably go away?"

Me, "Probably"

Me, "Liiiike in a couple days?"

Him, "That's fine"

Me, "What's fine?"

Him, "It will go away."

Me, "But, I feel like I just drank a shot of tequila all the time."

Him, "Well then maybe you should make an appointment with your doctor."

Me, ?????????????????

So, I don't really have a primary care Dr. and they referred me to one that just got indicted for pre*scription handling a*buse. So I guess I need to find someone else. I am really worried about the whole thing. I don't feel right. I feel like I am in a dream.

I am scared that this is



Depression?

How could I possible be depressed. I don't FEEL depressed.

Do I?


I took the online quizzes and ya know what?

I do.

Maybe.

I know something is off.

But I do know I am happy. Just very, very tired.

Camp co-sleep?

So Conner has slept in the same bed with me since he came home from the hospital, give or take a few nights. I usually put him down at night in his own crib and then go get him on his first wake-up or sometimes when I am going to bed (simply because I am lazy and don't want to have to get up in 25 minutes, when he decides it time for a snack.) I love sleeping with him. Feeling his little warm body all snugly. The way he pats my face when he wakes up (or sticks a finger in my nose). The smile he has when he wakes up. Not having to get out of bed since he still nurses 2-3 times a night. It just makes me feel good.

However, I am still hearing the "thunk" he made when he went off our California king bed unto the floor. I don't think I will ever get that sound out of my head. It hurt my heart way worse than it did him. In fact, he was laughing minutes after it happened and was trying to eat the frozen waffle I was putting on his teeny boo-boo. But I still felt awful. I knew it was coming as he is getting very active in his sleep and I just didn't take the appropriate precautions. This happened a week ago and I know have pillows on the floor and huge barricade on one side of the bed and sleep with my hand on him so that if he moves I wake up. So far it has worked. But I don't want it to happen again.

All last week I tried to work with him at sleeping in his own bed and he is having nothing of it. Now he doesn't even want to go down in his bed and I can only guess it's because I spend all last week trying to keep him in it all night instead of bringing him in with me. He will be sound asleep in my arms and scream when he feels himself touch the mattress. I can't do cry it out. I just can't do it. I don't want to.

I want him with me.

Maybe we should just buy a king sized crib.

Camp co-sleep?

Under Pressure

Well I think it's finally happening.

I am coming down from the high of new mommy hood and looking around at the chaos that is my job, house, finances, personal life and having a leeeeetle tiny melt-down.

I am blissfully happy.

My house is a shambles.

I am totally awe struck with my children.

I needz a good nights sleep.

I am totally bonded with the Connor's daddy.

I feel out of sinc with my husband.

I am happy that my mother found love.

I hate(ish) my new step-father.

I don't need or want anything.

It's a good thing cause I gotz no money in the bank.

I am thankful I have a job

I hate(full blown) my job.

I get to travel to see extended family next month.

The circumstances for the trip, however, suck.

I take Vacation the first week of July.

Sing it with me now. "IIIIIIIII aint got no muuuuhahuuuuuny.

I love my blog.

You get crappy posts like this...

Pick Me! Pick Me!

I did it.

I finally submitted my application to my dream job.

I feel like I wanna throw up. True it could be the leftover roast that I ate for lunch that MAY have been in the fridge a little too long, but I really think it is the possibility of leaving my comfy,yet low pay, job in search of a whole brand spankin new career.

I know this is my job. I feel it.

I would be good for it and it would be good for me.

I am very burnt out right now and I need a change. I need a total job makeover if you will.

So I sit here. Waiting.

Little rumblies in my tummy.

Damn pot roast.

BALLS

This morning I was digging in the back of my closet looking for my "Kiss me, I'm Irish" t-shirt.

I was getting pretty pissed that I couldn't find it and my besties are patiently waiting in the driveway for me so we can go to Six Flags.

I know it is in here but I don't wanna dig too far because the last time I did that I ended up with cat poo on my forehead.

Well shit!(pun..well you know)

Now they are honking.

I am trying to hurry. Quit the damn honking.

My god! Stop!

I run to the garage door.

"Stop honking the damn horn" I giggle.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

I realize as I am laying in bed that I don't HAVE a "kiss me I'm Irish" t-shirt.

The "honking" is my alarm clock.

My best buddy lives 1,000 miles away and is not in fact in my drive way.

I have a baby finger in my nose.

I am not going to Six Flags today but I AM going to work.

The only thing relevant to the whole dream is

Happy St. Patty's Day!!!!!

To my darling little screeching howler monkey,

I say that in the nicest way possible. What is with all the screaming? Are you working your way to lead singer in some crazy death metal band in your teens? We have all been walking around with grins and headaches for a whole week now. Its hilarious how it takes your whole body to muster up the scream and you have to sit and recuperate for a couple of minutes before you can scream again. There is a saying though. Its only funny a max of 3 times. I learned that in theatre. It's a good lesson so..

In the six months that you have been on this earth, you have learned all sorts of neat tricks. You can smile and laugh. You can SCREAM. You are trying to wave bye-bye.

You can make us come running when you do your little fake cough you have started.

You haven't quite figured out how the whole crawling thing is supposed to work but you can roll to your destination like no body's business.

Your days are normally spent drinking from your CUP, eating puffs, and watching Madagascar. And BTW we really have to talk about your movie. I know you like it. I know you like to MOVE IT, MOVIE IT. But really? Two times a day? We are not even supposed to be letting you watch tv.

It's not hurting you though. You are the smartest SIX MONTH OLD around I just know it. You are a cute, inquisitive, sweet, sharing little critter.

You love to play and be outside.

Your favorite thing to do it to take a walk to the park in your stroller we haven't gotten to do it much but I promise you will spend a ton of time there this summer.

I also want to thank you for sleeping until 5am these last couple of days. The time change has been a little rough on mommy so the extra sleep is much needed. However, last night while I was rocking you to sleep at 9pm and casually mentioned to your father how you were super easy to get to sleep and then you sat up from your knocked out state and preceded to stay awake until 11pm? That was not cool. Jokes on mommy right? See? I told you, super smart.

To be serious. You have totally and completely blown your father and I away by how incredibly awesome you are. I see great things in you already. I see such a gentleness in you soul that I will protect with every fiber of my being. You are content. You wake up every morning happy. I do too little man.

You adore your daddy, bubby, and mommy (in that order I am afraid).

& I adore you.

Happy 1/2 a year kid!

Monday Musings

I just figured I would give a random list of my boo-shit today.

I have been obsessed with Big Love for the last month or so. I started watching season four on HBO, but then decided I really want to watch from the beginning.

To date I have had two dreams about the po-lig-a-me.

I dreamed I was Nikki. It really bothers me that I am not Margene. I mean Nikki is the wife that is all conservative with the long hair with a half-up,bump it, Snookie, poof thing going on. She wears ankle length dresses and almost never swears. But she is crafty and sneaky and I do appreciate that.

Margene is the spunky, hot, third wife. I could go for being her.

However, things are getting a little out of hand because last night I dreamed that the scary Mormans at Juniper Creek stole Conner and wouldn't give him back because he was not being raised properly. So I might need to take a little breakey from HBO.

We spent the weekend back in my hometown visiting relatives and had a great time. We helped my grandparents clean up their property and just visited. It was exactly what we needed. Conner charmed the pants off everyone he met and was the best baby I could ask for. I am amazed at how well he travels. I don't think he cried the entire time we were there. E was great too. He worked so very hard raking leaves and hauling tree limbs.

I feel my grandparents house is my childhood home and it is very soothing to visit. I wished I felt that way about visiting my parents but I just don't. It's awkward. My mom and I have always struggled with our relationship. What mother and daughter doesn't at some point, right? But ours is constant. Draining

I don't know how I turned down this road, but I think I want to head back to the sister wives conversation.

I am thinking about accepting Resumes for two sister wives. I could use the extra hands.

Think about it.

Eric is pretty hot.

Sizes 8 and under need not apply.

If you haven't had any children and your boobs are still perky and pointy you don't really need to waste your time.

If you shave your legs more than once a week then your application will PROBABLY get lost in the shuffle as well.

Hot stuff

When in the H E DOULBE HOCKEY STICKS does this parenting this get easy and start, you know, kinda working for itself?

Apparantly I gave birth to the reincarnated Robin Hood. Except instead of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, he just decided to take and keep for himself?

A week before spring break.

Now I have to be the evil parent that cancels his spring break and play prison gaurd at home.

No you may not Ride your bike..sticky fingers.

No you may not go play at your friends.

No you may not watch TV.

I am sorry you are bored but you could be camping right now.

According to his teacher, "E has been quite the little TOOT the last couple of weeks."

This is on top of what we went to the school for this morning.

STEALING

LYING

Not a path I want my 9 year old on.

This is not easy. He is supposed to go camping with his great-grandparents. I spent every spring break camping with them and it is a tradition that they are trying to keep alive. I know that this time is so important. It breaks my heart to have to make this call.

For the Wagers of Nookie.

Eric: "Honey, I still have time to take a nap before work and you KNOW what would help me sleep." (Nudge, nudge, eyebrow wiggles)

Marie: (frantically running around trying to clean up before bed)"Eric, if you will spend 15 minutes in here cleaning, then I will spend 15 minutes in the bedroom doing whatever you want."

Eric: "Well that's not really fair since I don't really NEED 15 minutes in there."

RIP

His funural arrangements are pending.

Put upon

There are days in every ones life that they start to feel a little put upon.

Laundry is piled.

Dishes are piled.

Bills have to be mailed.

Baseball sign ups have to be completed.

Baby has to be fed, bathed, fed, sang to, FED.(Growth spurt..my poor boobies)

Baby wakes up at 4 AM and when you take him into the living room to see his daddy who doesn't sleep at night and is just SITTING there watching tv. So you think that maybe they can hang out and catch up on things that only people with penises talk about and you can go get another hour or so of sleep.

THEN you get the stink eye.

Like the tv can not in fact accommodate BOTH of them so you really need to take the kiddo back to bed and do whatever it is the two of you do at 4am.

You get a little pissy.

Well I get a little pissy.

I get a lot pissy in fact.

Pissy doesn't help me to sleep.

So I'm all shooting the stink eye from both my eyes.

I finally get back to sleep and what do you know the door opens and my boobs are needed AGAIN.

So I get up for the day.

I get ready for work.

I feed the baby his cereal.

Look around the house and think that my schedule sucks and I am going to be spending all weekend cleaning and that really sucks ass.

I get to work barely on time and remember a conference call that is about to start in five minutes. So I log into the call and forgo my usual cup of coffee and email checking. So sleepy.

But you know what turned my day around?

Eric had to clean this up.



I know I just posted my son's shit on the internet but yall, I have never felt so vindicated in my whole live long life.

Sprung from Winter.

Come on Spring!

Get here already.

I am so over the cold.

I am sitting here thinking about all the things I miss out on in summer while the kiddo is out of school and I am sitting at my desk nosing around in YOUR lives and I was hit by a revelation.

I have two FULL days a week that I usually waste.

Saturday and Sunday are usually my- "Whah I worked all week and I just wanna sit at home and be lazy days." Or. "I have to spend all weekend cleaning because the males in my house (and me) live like monkeys during the week and I have to clean our cage."

Not this year.

I gotz me a schedule.

Tuesday I was really on the ball and did everything on my list and even went to bed with the kitchen completely clean.

Wednesday?

I sat on my monkey ass and watched the 3 episodes of Big Love and the season finale of Nip/Tuck.

I will start enjoying my weekends though.

Cage be damned.

Baseball is starting and I love to watch E play more than anything else in the whole wide world. I am super excited to be able to push baby boy in his stroller so he can watch too. We just finished basketball and he loved to watch E play but the weather was so bad all the time that he only got to watch a couple of games.

Come on spring. Lead us into flip flops and snow cones. Late evening walks and bbqs. Fishing. Swimming. Fresh produce. Shorts. Sunless Tanning (AMEN). Camping out in the backyard. Fire works. Popsicles.

Am I leaving anything out?

I plan to turn the TV off and enjoy my boys. I will leave the DVR on of course and just loose sleep watching my shows at night ahem.

What spring activity are you twitterpaters ready for??

cha cha cha chia.

Well, the water is awful murky over here at my pad.

The weather.

Our Moods.

Spring can NOT get here soon enough.

E needs a hair cut. He looks a little like a reject from the cast of Annie. He refuses to fix it other than wet the middle front and use a glob of of hair gel to slick it down. The poor child has the thickest and hair and he dreams of having the new shaggy (yet cool) skater cuts everyone seems to have but he just starts looking more like a chia pet everyday.

Baby C had a rough night and you can see by his little eyes that he doesn't feel 100%


You can tell by my little eyes that sleep was not a success.

I think maybe he may be teething.

Eric may be getting his period.

Cause he is TERRIBLY bitchy.

I am not sure because I didn't really listen but it was something about how he didn't like to be told to shut-up and something about a farm-hand? I couldn't really hear over all my yelling and I was very sleepy so the details are a little foggy.

So to reiterate.

E needs pro-cuts

Baby C needs Orajel.

Eric needs Mydol.

I need a nap.

I probably could use the mydol too.

Eric might also need an icepack for the knot.

This Butts for you.

I am sitting at my desk sleepily grazing through google reader when the phone rings.

"*Bobo's insurance company, how can I help you?"

Client: "I need to blah blah blah. And Could you hootie hootie blah blah"

I am kinda zoning back into google at this point. Sorry but we all do it occasionally and my boss walks by and asks:

"Is that Jim Beam?"

I silently mouthed yes and nodded my head.

"Will you ask him if he found my butt plate?"



Blink



"Mr. Beam, could you please hold on a second?"

"Ummm", I stammered. "Would you like to talk to him?"

"No. Just ask him."

"I, uh, Mr. Bobo..

Damn! He went into his office and shut the door.

I take a deep breath and pick up the phone.

"Mr Beam?"

"Yes?"

"Did you uh, happen to uh,"

Another deep breath

"Did you find Mr. Bobo's **butt plate"?

"Oh yeah. I was supposed to bring that when I brought the gun", he chuckled.

"Tell him don't worry that I will bring it".

"OK, Well is there anything else I could do for you today?"

"No mam, thank you for your time"

So I get up and go to his office to deliver the message.

I also now know what a butt plate is.

It's not near as embarrassing as it sounds but it is still very awkward to ask a client.

*Also all the names have been changed to protect the innocent AND for my amusement. Wouldn't it be funny to have a boss named Mr. Bobo? Almost as funny as the word butt plate.

**Google it.

Monday's musings.

We need to talk. It's not me its YOU.

Well. That's not entirely true.

I guess we have both changed. Me. I know I have gotten a little sloppy. I know that I don't pay as much attention to detail anymore. But really? Do you? You expect me to be the one to always be creative and spontaneous?

What about motivation?

I remember when I couldn't wait to get to you. I felt needed and wanted.

I need to be challenged. I need to know it is not ok to ignore my responsibilities. Hell I NEED responsibilities.

Others want me.

I know.

They have told me so.

I am just not happy anymore.

I need a new Job.

My hard earned photos

First Photo. I wish I was looking at this from my couch in front of the fire, with a cup of hot cider.









My dog freezing her NUTZ off.

IITZ SNOWEEEEEEEENG

Our sleepy little town is covered in a light blanket of snow. I am stuck at work looking out side wishing I could build an erotic snowman. My snowman would have huge pecks and be hung like a horse.

I wanted to send pictorial evidence of the snow, but you see, I am sorta lazy in the mornings and not a picture taker. Eric is the photo journalist of the family and he is on vacation this week, and every morning looks like a hungover college student.

Is he staying up at night partying like a rock star? Why no. He DOES however, have the best farm operation in facebook land and a quite impressive mafia.

I did finally get him to snap a picture but when he emailed it to me I was quite a taken back.

I was not up to his usual photogenic snuff.

It was rather grainy and looked as if someone licked the camera lens before snapping the picture.

I did request a new photo and I am patiently waiting.

He will probably make me preform so sort of sexual act for the photo, so if I am walking funny tomorrow I blame YOU.

Memories

I lifted the chest and pulled out E's baby book. I flipped through the half written-half empty pages; reliving his precious first year...er six months that I wrote in the book.

Oh look he rolled over at four months.

His favorite book was "Itsy Bitsy Spider".

First foods

First smiles

My first born.

I then glance over guiltily at the fresh unmarked pages of Conner's book and sigh. I am already behind. As I pulled the book out and looked through the pages, I realized that time is flying and memories are not quite as sharp as the day I brought him home.

Newborn outfits don't quite look like the ever would have fit on his pudgy little body.

Last night as I was giving him a bath, his little hands were grabbing everything they could.

The soap bottle.

The sprayer nozzle on the sink.

Wash rag.

He splashes.

He laughs.

He is growing at an alarming rate.

How is it possible to record everything and preserve every memory for the next decade of his life.

4 months, 4 and a HALF MONTHS, ALMOST FIVE MONTHS????

It couldn't be.

Last night my eldest played his guitar for me while we sang songs.

He runs.

Talks.

ASKS GIRLS OUT.

Rides his bike down the street with his friends.

9 years, 9 and three QUARTER years, SOON WILL BE 10 YEARS.

So I write.

Furiously.

Trying to preserve every memory for them.

I am so blessed.

I get to be their mom. I get the bumble my way through awkward conversations, late dinners, household chores. Teaching them how to love and laugh. Struggling the thin line of holding them close and teaching them to fly.

Playing army in the dirt in the sand pile (hopefully it won't be filled with cat poop like last time). Riding bikes. Baseball. T-ball. Camp-outs. Match-box cars. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

This life is good.

This life is mine.

Why?

Is it just me, or does fondant suck?

It makes beautiful cakes.

It tastes just AWFUL.

Maybe it's just me, but I would have a great tasting cake that was not as perfect looking; not a beautiful cake that I couldn't eat.

I will stick to butter cream.

Thanks.

But wait! There's More!!

Don't know why but I love this guy!




LOOK. AT. THAT.





Yummm. No need to explain.

Yeah, and then there is the whole awesome story line thing too.

Get LOST baby!!

So who's getting Lost tonight?

I am so excited.

We are going to have a small family shin-dig; complete with tacos, queso dip. We have been waiting for this day for months and I hope we are not disappointed.

Ethan begged off basketball practice and I agreed. I mean, I would have to pause it to go get him and I just feel like that would ruin my whole Lost watching experience. His jump shot is just not THAT important yet.

Monday's

Highlights: Got to work on time. Strong coffee. Good hair day.

Low lights: My boss said "Stinky Pinkie"(I died a little inside).

Other than that....

I had a pretty good weekend.

E is killing this basketball season with an undefeated record thus far. He has nailed a couple of fantastic shots that I am guessing are luck, but impressive none the less. I was afraid that he wouldn't follow through with the whole season especially after the rigorous 2 hour practices and suicides that his coach has them do, but he is always excited about it.

The thought of having to do even one suicide makes me want to puke in my 8Th grade gym shoes. I tried Athletics and I was half-way decent at volley-ball, but all I ever got out of basketball was a busted nose and two jammed fingers. One of those jammed fingers was when I was playing with myself.

I just reread that and I didn't mean PLAYING with myself. I was playing BASKETBALL with myself.

This post has turned out quite differently than I planned.

I don't even know where to go from here than to say my mom got married last week. Today is her one week anniversary to be exact. I haven't talked about it much because I was hoping it was a problem that would go away on its own and I am not usually one to pay attention to those kind of problems. Sadly the problem did NOT go away; instead it decided to become my step-father.

I don't KNOW that this is a bad thing. I am grown at least and have my own home where I can escape the insanity. 3 months. That is the time it took for an Internet relationship to blossom into a marriage. A marriage where my mother is the only one with an income. Where she had to purchase her own wedding ring (and his) and get up and go to work the next morning instead of a honeymoon. It could turn out to be something great for her, but right now, she deserved better than what she got.

I guess sometimes you gotta let go and let them grow up...

The tuff stuff

Today is the first day in 4 1/2 months that I haven't spent lunch with my little man. I never realized how much difference and hour a day makes. My boobs ache and so does my heart.



Being a baby is such hard work.

Email Love

Email I JUST received from Eric. Copy and pasted exactly as he wrote it.

FYI! Homemade applesauce makes NASTY 1st of the morning $hits ! Just thought you should know a$$hole.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T


Hee Hee. I guess being all frugal(lazy as I didn't want to go to the store)and making my own apple sauce for Conner backfired...literally.

Do you believe in life after love?

Does anyone this Heidi Montag looks like Cher? I keep looking at her new face going, "She lookes like someone". Then I made the connection. Which is pretty sad. Not saying Cher isn't beautiful but come one she is a little long in the tooth for a young blond to run to the plastic surgeon waving her photo saying, "Ooooh make me look like her". Maybe it wasn't intentional but its still pretty freaky.

What do you give the guy who gives everything.

6 years ago today, I had the pleasure of sharing a highly intoxicating fishbowl with the best friend that I had never had. That night as we stumbled..er walked hand in hand out of the bar..er "dancing place", I knew my life would never be the same.

Eric,

You are everything in my life that is good. I love you beyond anything I could ever express. You are the barney to my baby bop. My #1 and only one. You are my rock and even though I sometimes fail miserably I hope you know that I got your back.

You give to everyone and rarely take anything for yourself. I hope I can continue to learn from your example of compassion and strength and I hope our children grow up to be the man you are today.

I not only say all this because I haven't actually gotten you a present yet either. I mean, I HAVEN'T, but I mean it also.

Happy Birthday my dear love.

I hope this year takes it easy on your aging, weary, 10 years older than me, bones.

Last one today.

I. Promise.