That daddy is so funny...

In this last week or two, I've been taking advantage of the fact that I actually have *a little* bit of energy, and am forcing myself to do stuff during the day and not nap because my back is giving me such a miserable time with sleeping at night. I have several summer projects that have been on the back-burner for oh, several months, and am getting to them. Cleaning out the office (minus the bookshelves that I fear may never get finished)--check. Cleaning out closet--check. Organizing some of the baby clothes we have--day-to-day I am doing some. The hard part is that while we have a lot of clothing items (very cute, too!) because we didn't know what age the baby we adopted would be when we got her, I just organized by size. Now, (if she's a girl, of course) I can actually organize into the size AND determine whether it will be the right season. Some of the cute little 0-3 months summer bubble jumpers? Adorable, but not gonna work in November or December. Sadly, a lot of the sweetest stuff I was given was given by a good friend whose 3 daughters (always dressed so adorably!) were spring or summer babies...so while some things will work, a lot may not (unless we have a shrimp or a chunker, as John says). Anyway, I digress...long story short, I am busy.

So yesterday, I tackled the other guest room. We have two, and while both are made up for use, one is used often as it should be and one is used for my *catch-all* room...laundry that needs ironing, or is hanging to dry. Gifts, gift-wrap, excess whatever--that room had it. I had to get it cleaned up because my dear friend and God-daughter are coming through tomorrow on their way to NY and will need both rooms. I worked on that room all day yesterday--tackling the clothes to be hung or ironed was the worst. Then I had to get the Goodwill stuff going...and while I was at it, I figured I might as well clean out the closet. What was I thinking? The whole day was a ton of cleaning through, throwing out and walking down memory lane...lots of tissues used yesterday. I also took Raleigh to the groomer yesterday, so John came home as I was picking him up and walked into the major renovation project.

I was definitely having some stretchy/soreness going on, as well as hardly any sleep over the last two or three nights because of my back, so he was concerned that I was overdoing it. I was going to finish, though...and kept going and going. Finally, John had enough of watching me tear the house apart (while finishing laundry and cooking dinner--something I fear he may be getting accustomed to me doing!) and stopped me and said, "Stop. Just sit down and rest for the rest of the evening. You're just doing too much."

I asked him why he couldn't ever tell me *THAT* when I WASN'T pregnant?

His answer?

"Because then, you're just complaining."

Oh, he's so funny.

Was that you?

Well baby, I think I might have felt you kick last night. Somewhere around 15-16 weeks I thought I might have as well, but haven't since until last night. It's sort of like little bubbles popping in my stomach, which is why I can imagine lots of people could confuse it with gas! It was different though, and daddy even woke up out of his Nyquil-induced stupor to acknowledge.

Perhaps it was your response to your first boat ride yesterday. Though you hopefully will enjoy the outdoors and the water, I don't know how much you liked speed-loving daddy driving us around. I hope you weren't too jostled in there, because afterward, I thought you might have been a little unhappy! Daddy didn't feel well still, but he sure did perk up when he was driving the boat! He's crazy like that--working hard makes him feel better! While driving the boat is not necessarily hard work, launching the boat, trying to find the beach where our picnic was, finding it and realizing that the lifeguards would not let us beach there (a point mommy brought up many times and was dismissed by daddy saying, "I know what I'm doing."), going all the way back to the marina, trying to squeeze into one transient slip only to realize we would not fit so we had to go and get another one, then driving all the way back to the beach at which we were picnicking, hanging out, then driving BACK to the marina to batten down the hatches (oh, and launch again so daddy could get some She-Crab soup at Clark's Landing) and then, finally, heading home WAS hard work! At least for you and me it was! Here's a picture of you driving the boat. Well, not really.

Daddy

MollyMatthew, I just have to tell you that your daddy is so darned cute and excited for you. He's also very, very sure you are a girl. Me? Not so sure.

In any event, he called me this morning and told me that I needed to go to the Exchange because they had a big sidewalk clearance sale and there was lots of baby stuff. Yep, daddy told me to go shopping. (For you, of course!)

Then, this afternoon, when I still hadn't gone yet, but was on my way as he was on his way home, I asked him if he wanted to meet me there and look together. He said, "Sure." SURE? Now, you'll learn in our family, daddy will probably say, "I could..." and he gets that totally from your dear old granddad...but for you, today--he says, "Sure."

More than that, when I got there, I said there wasn't much unisex clothing and he said, "Get girl." Like I said, he's sure you are a girl.

Your daddy is so darned excited about you he can hardly stand it. He's not feeling very well, and he's hoping he doesn't get me sick just as I'm getting better, though I am not all that sure he isn't coming down with what I had. He even insisted on making dinner...whether this was because he was trying to help me take it easy because my back has been killing me or he just prefers BLTs the way HE does them is still up for discussion, but either way, feeling yucky, he still preferred for me to sit on the sofa. Let me just tell you, your daddy is one good guy. You just watch him so you know what kind of man to marry (or to be)!

Labor Day (classes)

Well, I just booked several classes...

Breast-feeding basics. I asked the lady if I shouldn't schedule that for after I actually had a baby and she said, "Well, you'd like to know what do to, wouldn't you?" Um, yeah...well, that does make sense. Sign me up!

Infant CPR and Choking Hazards. We did an Infant CPR class for the adoption requirements, but frankly, we did it ONLINE and I have to say that I had planned on taking an actual personal class anyway. I think I'll feel a bit better with a real baby. Or real baby doll.

Labor and Birthing. 2 hours a night each week for a while or we can do an all-day, Saturday. Guess which one John wants? The get-it-all-done-at-once Saturday option. Frankly, I'd prefer NOT to spend an entire day going through all that stuff, and like the idea of getting the info in smaller doses so I can absorb, but then again, I'm just the mom. Daddy Wikipedia is all about the information overload. Like the lady said, "Four eyes are better than two." Hope John takes good notes because I have a feeling after the first few minutes and words like, "episiotomy," "incision of the anal sphincter or rectal mucosa," "Hematoma formation," or problems with the "recto-vaginal fistula," and I will be GLAZED over and looking for the epidural then and there.

I've also booked acupuncture (for my back, hip and sinuses), physical therapy (back and hip), dental cleaning (not that my gums are problematic, but I love me some clean teeth and if TriCare is going to pay for an extra cleaning, I'm going!) and pre-natal massage. Whew. I'm tired from just using the phone!

Dear Anonymous,

Please allow me to respond to you:

Is there a even very slim chance your dad will ever read your blog or someone who knows your dad who will tell him about your blog? If so, will there be any hope of reconciliation then....when he sees what you've so publically said about him? Even if it is all true and justified on your part, it seems that you are very much shutting the door on the relationship as well. As poorly as he's behaved, your behavior in dissing on him on your blog seems very dishonoring.....it IS obvious you still love him and you believe he parented you well when you were growing up. So he's made and is currently making poor choices now. Why not pray for him and the grace for yourself to react to his statements and decisions with wisdom and Christ-centered love? Sure, vent to a few trusted friends and John, ask them for their guidance and wisdom and prayers. But the way you are reacting, well, seems pretty bitter....and gossipy. So he's cut you off....hard to show him love when he does that, huh? Maybe not blogging about how mad he makes you (and thus leaving the door open a crack for him to repent/you to reconcile with each other) is one small way you can express that love.

If my dad, or someone who knows my dad reads this, he will not see anything other than the truth....and words he himself has used. I have no use for lying, nor have I any use for denigrating my father's character. These posts will be turned into a book for my child, and I want there to be NO confusion as to why her mother's father is not part of her life--he chose not to be. Reconciliation is as simple as my father saying, "Lori, it was wrong of me to expect you and your sister and your brother to act as if your mom's death meant you needed a new mother, or to expect you to build a new family because I chose to build a new family. I would really love it if you and **** and her daughters were friends and celebrated special times together, and then see where that goes." Alas, anonymous, those words have not been spoken, and I don't foresee them being spoken.

You are right in that I am shutting the door on the relationship as well, because, well, that's what my father said to do. If a relationship doesn't exist on his terms, then consider there to be no relationship. Done.

Of course I still love my father and because of his parenting, it should be very obvious why I cannot accept the dissolution of my family simply because my mother died and he wants to replace it. How dishonorable to her, to us and to 30 years of our lives.

Why do you assume I have not prayed for him, or for what to do with all of this? You have no idea what prayers have been offered, what conversations with Godly friends and family and counselors have been held, nor what has gone on between me and my God. As you accuse me of not showing Christ-centered love, you certainly sound judgemental. Perhaps this is not your purpose, but that is how it is perceived.

You are also correct in that I am bitter. I am extremely bitter that the man who raised me and who I thought would always offer unconditional love now chooses to tell me that he did not love me when he met me, I was part of a package deal, and it should be obvious as to why he can love his wife's daughters exactly as he loves me because we are theoretically the same in the eyes of the law. This does not mean that I have not forgiven him for his disparaging remarks against my mother, as well as the hurt that he has, even inadvertently, brought to my heart. I hold no ill will toward my father and have never told him ANYTHING but that I was happy he was happy. I simply cannot and will not replace my mother just because he wishes that was the case. Period. And those are his terms of our relationship, not mine.

With regard to expressing my love to him by not blogging, I cannot expect that you, an anonymous person who has no knowledge of my actions over the last 6 years since my mother has passed, would know the lengths and extents of love I have tried to show my dad. As I said, this blog will be turned into a book for my child, and will hopefully explain with as much honesty as I can provide why certain things are the way they are. This blogging is not a way of showing how mad I am at my dad, for I am not mad at him. I am hurt and disappointed, but we are all adults and pay the consequences for the actions we choose. For my dad, I am mostly sad, because things could be very different if he would simply let them...and in not, he is really losing out on times with his family. For we are, and always will be, his family--whether he'd like to replace it or not.

Thanks for your comment.

Dear Been There, Done That...

Allow me creative license as I quote your comment:

There is always a second side to things. You've already lost your Mom. Don't throw away your father too. His family is still your family. Sure they aren't grandma and aunts but they are step-grandma and aunts and still related to M. Parents are people too.

Perhaps you did not read the part about my father throwing me away. Perhaps you didn't note how I was given an ultimatum to treat his wife as my mother and her daughters as my sisters, or he would not be part of my life. Maybe you missed the part where it was directly dictated, "If I am to be Grandpa, then ****** is to be Grandma and **** and **** are to be aunts." You might have missed how I have been given no choice but to act as if my family of 30 years did not exist simply because he has a new life and that new life needs to replace all I've ever known. Not co-exist, mind you, but replace, per my dad. His family is NOT related to me or my family unless I CHOOSE it to be that way. And I could have very easily chosen it that way if I was not given the ultimatum of all or nothing--new replaces old--but that was not an option my father was ok with. He very easily replaced his wife; not so easy to replace my mom. And if his wife and I were allowed to be friends and familial with no expectation that she and her daughters were my "new mommy and new sissies" then things could be different. Those are all choices of my father, however, and I will not be moved.

You are right. Parents are people. MY PARENT was my mother. Dead or alive, still my mother. My father told me if I don't accept his wife as my mother and her daughters as my sisters, he was not my father. Who's doing the throwing away here?

As always, thank you for the opportunity to clear up any misconception that you or others may have had. I languished ALL day on Sunday about not calling or emailing or sending my father his Father's Day card. I cried. I worried. I prayed. I asked John if I was making the right decision by not contacting him. And you know what my very level-headed, arbitrary, impartial husband said? "His choice."

Sad as it was, it was his choice.

Jon, Kate and their 8

Okay....my long-awaited post on the Jon and Kate debacle. Ha ha...long-awaited. I know people have been holding their breath, right?

Anyway, it's been long-awaited for me because I just hate it all and it breaks my heart. We watched last night (yes, even John watched, though I KNOW he didn't want to, because no mater how he'd like to deny it, he sees himself sometimes) and I just cried. John asked me why I was so worked up over it and the answer is easy: I identify. Not with the 8 kids, obviously; not with the whole 'my life is on tv' thing. But DEFINITELY as the Type A, driven wife often accused of being overbearing and domineering married to the Passive-Aggressive, Secret-Agenda husband who gets portrayed as some abused puppy because he chooses to keep it all in instead of actually talking things out.

*DO NOT GET ME WRONG OR TAKE THIS THE WRONG WAY--My husband is wonderful. He is intelligent and capable; he's well-respected and hard-working. I would not trade him for anything in the world and even when he infuriates me, I go to sleep every night praying to God that he comes across no harm and that if one of us has to leave this earth, it's me first because I couldn't bear the thought of life without him. But, let's be real. He and I are very, very different. I may have mentioned that our pastor told us in our pre-marriage counseling that we were completely opposite in most things, and while that can be complementary, it also is a lot of work. He wasn't kidding! John and I have been a couple for 16 years, and married for a bit over 12 of those. And yes, there has been a LOT of work. But what comes with sweat is often sweeter for it. I guess.

This whole Jon and Kate thing has really gotten to me for lots of reasons. Mainly because I have been following this show since the little kids were babies and tv show or not, you become attached and to watch their family dissolve is heartbreaking. As I said, though, I identify with this show. John and I often will sit down and watch (okay, John *pretends* that he's forced against his will to watch, but he sure does pay attention) and we will laugh (at the older ones, obviously--not too much to laugh at recently) because we see lots of ourselves. He will laugh at something Kate does and say, "That's so you," to which I will retort, "Oh yeah? Well he looks really familiar too!" and again, we laugh. The old Jon and Kate's banter was very similar to ours. All anyone talks about is what a b*tch Kate is with the way she treats Jon, but if anyone actually paid attention to Jon's little remarks, they'd see that he's just as snipey, just in his passive-aggressive way. And because his actions are not as overt as hers, she gets the branding of witch and he's abused. Ridiculous. We once had a good friend stay with us for a few months while her husband was doing some training, and I felt so vindicated when she told me one day, "You know, you and John present very differently than you really are." I asked her what she meant and she said, "Well, it seems like you run the show, but John is REALLY stubborn isn't he? Sometimes it seems like he enjoys getting you going." Ya think? It was like the clouds opened and the Hallelujah chorus was singing because someone finally realized that John was not just this easy-going, whatever kind of guy and I was just the over-anxious, uptight control-freak. Because let me tell you...to this day, the china we eat special dinners on? The china that usually is picked out by the BRIDE-TO-BE? Yeah, not the china I wanted. I love the china we have, but it is NOT what I originally wanted. Nope...John had a weigh-in and refused it. Same for our flat wear, which I also like a lot, but is exactly what John's mom and sister had. (Coincidence? More like John's comfort level) Paint colors in our house? Again, things I like, but chosen by John. If we find out MollyMatthew is a girl, he wants a green in the nursery--whereas I want yellow. (On this, though, I think I'll win because now I can tell him Molly told me she wanted yellow and he listens to her FAR more than he listens to me!) My point is this: It's those quiet, passive-aggressive types that make life really hard for those of us overt, outspoken types, and sometimes, the little sarcastic exchanges that go on between those two types just are benign ways of getting some feelings out. If you watch the older shows, you see that Jon gives just as good as he gets, and yet in their interviews, they recall things they said and they laugh or sort of smile at each other like they knew it was a tough moment, but they made it through. I can say this--I've watched at least 4 reruns on marathon days in which Jon has told Kate to "shut-up" and I'd skin John if he ever said that to me. John never would (out loud!) though because he has more respect (and brains) than Jon obviously does.

Regardless of what one thinks of their banter and their relationship, it's obvious on the older shows that it worked for them. They were a team, for better or worse. As Kate says, "I know Jon loves his kids and I know he loves me...we just get frustrated." And therein existed the problem...as the frustration grew due to the kids getting older, show demands being greater, and in my opinion, Jon stopping his 'full-time job' (because mothering 8 kids certainly can't qualify for a full-time job, right?), Jon's level of tolerance grew shorter and he realized that being a full-time dad to 8 kids was HARD. It cramped his lifestyle and while he himself said that Kate was by far a better communicator and he was proud of her books and her promoting them, he grew to resent being a stay-at home dad. Bring on the ridiculous earrings, weird hoodies and oh, yeah, the late night parties with local college girls. Say what you will about Kate, but honestly watch the last few years of their shows and see that she has been what she is (save some cosmetic changes) since the show started. Her personality, her demands, her drive, her penchant for order--all of those things have been consistent. Those things that Jon now b*itches about, "I was just too passive and let her rule the roost and now I'm standing up for myself," have been there all along. What a cop-out--"I was just too passive. I'm not a good communicator. I don't know what I want anymore." WHATEVER. Cry-baby. John has pulled the old, "I'm not a good communicator" line on me and you know what my response is? "Yeah, well, what are YOU doing about that?" Because the reality is, we aren't all the best at communicating, it's true. When one realizes that he or she is not, though, and that communication is key to a successful relationship, WHO should work on the communication skills? You guessed it--the one lacking them. John's favorite line to me is, "I didn't mean to (fill in the blank)." I have never, ever accused John of meaning to do anything intentionally to hurt or aggravate me. What I have accused him of is not taking steps to make it so those unintentional things didn't happen anymore. And so it is with Jon Gosselin. Kate said he has a lot of anger toward her but won't communicate. Of course he won't. He's done. He is going through a mid-life crisis and realized that 8 kids is a lot of work! He can't just be Santa Daddy because kids need structure and order. While Kate is promoting the book, he has to put himself in shoes she lived for a long time and he doesn't like it. So his fix for that?

CHEAT? Seriously, I don't care if you are married to Attila the Hun...if you are unhappy, you have choices and options. Cheating is simply not ok. And it's not even that--he won't even own up to it, even though pictures all over the magazines don't lie. No wonder he hates the Paparazzi so much--they CATCH him "making bad choices that hurt his family." DUH. Kate can't win--he won't own up to it, he doesn't want to make it work and now she is another statistic, and so are her kids.

And the saddest part? Look who has been missing from their relationship for the last few years? In the beginning, church and their faith in God was present and obvious. The girls are named, in Jon's words, "after fruits of the spirit," and Zondervan published their books. When's the last time you heard either of them talk about church, or God? Talk about how they have talked with their pastor to help them through all of this or shown them saying a blessing over a meal? Long time...and don't think that isn't key here. It very much is.

Anyway, I hate that this whole post will end up in MollyMatthew's book, but there's a lesson here. Two people can be very, very different. They can be sarcastic in their banter and they can even appear snarky to people. That aside, if they are dedicated and committed to each other and their family, and they have God in their lives, they can work through it. They can regroup at the end of each day and know that they are blessed. They can persevere through the hard times and come out better for it. Most importantly, they can show their children that marriage is not easy, but in this throw-away society, it's worth fighting for. I do know this, MollyMatthew--your mommy and daddy love each other very much and love you just as much. You have my promise that we will always work hard together to let you know you are loved and that marriage can be a wonderful and happy way to spend your life, even if it has rough spots. We will always work hard to show you what parents who love and take care of each other look like, and will commit ourselves to working through problems for your good always.

And though that's not all I have to say....it's enough.

I dare you...

Okay...I dare you to go here, watch the video and NOT cry. I double-dog dare you.

Or, go here, read just a few posts, and tell me that the money you spend on Starbucks in the next month couldn't be better spent. I can tell you it can surely make a bigger difference than the caffeine intake.

And, I can't really even begin to send you to all the sites of all the people who are desperately waiting to bring children to their homes--children they've met and fallen in love with; children they've spent more than a year clinging to hope for, fighting for, supporting and loving--continents away. Try to imagine their heartache and tell me that you don't tear up, even just a little.

It's not just my hormones, friends. I dare you to stay dry-eyed. Even if you do, please pray for those families, and others all over the world hurting for their children. Pray for the amazing people who dedicate and sacrifice their lives to help others far less fortunate then they are. Imagine yourself going into that hole to help that man, and tell me your heart wouldn't be heavy. Our pastor yesterday talked about how sometimes things are not just an issue of unanswered prayer, but of unoffered prayer. How sad.

So, if you will...stop and take just a second and pray for people world-wide whose hearts are open enough and dreams of a better world for all are big enough...it makes a difference.

Some catch-up...

Well, another school year has come and gone, and all-in-all, I'll count this one as a good one. There were absolutely some very trying times, but I can honestly say that was all about the ADULTS and not the kids! This year's group of little ones were really a very sweet and magical group, and frankly, I hate passing them on to next year. If I wasn't having a baby, I'd have begged to loop up with them next year.

However...since I am...I'll let them go and bid them the best. I always say that it's even better after I'm not the teacher because then I just get to be the family friend.

I finished the course of antibiotics, but still sound like I am a 5-pack-a-day smoker. If I still sound like this in a week, I guess I'll go back. I have to say that for the most part, I've been pretty healthy this pregnancy and I'm glad for that. In fact, that's pretty unusual for me.

At the last appointment, I compared weights from last month to this month and had lost a pound. Who said 2nd trimester was better? Anywhooo, in the last 11 days, I've found weight! I've gained about 5-6 pounds and am DEFINITELY showing. Pictures prove that!

This was June 9...I'm pretty surprised at the stomach (and the girls!) as you can see by my expression.

It's been a VERY busy week...Monday was the last day for teachers, and clean-up time. After school that afternoon, I took a trip with John to Philadelphia. That may not have been the wisest thing for him to do--bring me--in light of the fact that he lives like a king on his business trips. Now I know, and there's no sympathy! We got back late Tuesday night and I turned around and drove down to Myrtle Beach to meet my dear friends from North Carolina--we taught together for years, and were amazed to realize we'd been friends for 9 years! It was wonderful weather, and even more wonderful company, and I was reminded just how much I LOVE the beach and was born for the ocean.

I drove back on Friday, and mom came out for the weekend for her birthday and brunch for Father's Day. I've spent the weekend rotating between chores and gaining weight and am pretty much looking forward to having tomorrow with no agenda. As I say that, I have a million things on the agenda, but knowing that what I don't get done tomorrow can go toward the next day is a very nice feeling!

A couple of pictures...

Okay, baby is being hidden here...this was the four of us at breakfast one day. I LOVE those girls!

Umm...ya think I'm pregnant? Yes, that's a maternity suit and yes, it's getting too small. Already!

Baby's first antibiotics...

Well, after daddy nearly threatening to divorce me and the doctor (the 3rd of 3 OBs at my practice, and seemed to be ok) telling me that I wasn't helping the baby any by being a martyr, I broke down and am taking some antibiotics. This lovely bronchitis seemingly came out of nowhere, but now in hindsight (and after a phone call of confirmation), seeing my little God-daughter and her mommy last weekend when they were both petri dishes of bacteria was probably the catalyst. In any event, I still think I should have tried to tough it out a few more days before I started anything, but like I said--after the doctor heard I wasn't taking my allergy and asthma meds as much as I should (and I've been fine, thank you very much), I was just around two walking antibiotic posters, I have a compromised immune system ANYWAY, and oh, yeah, I'm miserable and coughing up gunk that rivals Shrek's lovely skin color--she insisted.

Now, I realize that I am not a doctor, but I am also not an idiot, and feel that no one knows my body like I do. So, while I listen to doctor's advice and directions for the most part, I tend to consider much of a doctor's insight as his or her educated opinions based on lots of people, not necessarily me. While I highly value this education and experience, nay, I often depend on it, I also temper that advice with my insanely intense desire to keep this baby from ANYTHING that could adversely affect it.

Therefore, the only reasons I am taking this antibiotic are because as stated, John has been a pain in the ARSE about me taking it and Dr. Shonekan told me that if I am not healthy, any nutrition or supplements I manage to get in my body is NOT going to be going to baby, but to fight off whatever ails me. Well...if THAT'S the case, and I'm just shoving food I do NOT want in my body just to try and feel better and NOT to take care of baby, I might as well take the direct route, let the antibiotic do its job and be done with it.

But for the record, Augmentin and I still are just co-existing. It's not like we're friends or anything.

Dear Molly or Matthew,

I am very sorry that I have to write this letter to you, but I figure that if I put it on your blog, when I put the book together, you'll have it and will be able to look back on it if you ever need to.

Last night, your grandpa on my side told me that if he was going to be your grandpa, his wife was going to be your grandma and her daughters were going to be your aunts, or else he wouldn't be your grandpa. One day you'll understand that this was simply not an acceptable option for me or your daddy because you already have two grandmas--your Grandma Ennis, who is just tickled to meet you soon and your Grandma Mullins (who probably would hate that name and have preferred Grandma Jane) who is in Heaven watching over you. Your grandpa's wife would probably have been a very lovely woman in your life and may have loved you very much, but your grandpa simply insists that we act as if your Grandma Jane never existed. Little M, she absolutely existed, and would have loved you very, very much. You would have been the first-born of her first-born, and she would have been so happy that you finally made it to our lives. There was nothing she loved more than babies, and she loved her grand-babies tremendously. Please know that while you will never meet her on this earth, she is absolutely an integral part of who you are and from where you came, and she wouldn't be more proud of who you are to be.

I'm very sorry that by not treating your grandpa's wife like my mother and her daughters like my sisters, I am eliminating the relationship you could have with your grandpa. Know that it was his insistence, his very words that dictated this. If I did not treat his wife like my mother or her daughters like my sisters, then he was not going to be your grandpa or my father. Honey, I simply can't do that. While I could certainly be familial with them and enjoy spending time with them, I just can't pretend like my mother didn't exist and I all of a sudden have two new adult sisters just because your grandpa married someone after your grandma died. This is just not good enough for your grandpa...he wants to pretend that the whole life your mommy and aunt and uncle had with him and your grandma just didn't happen and all that is real is his life with his new wife and step-daughters. That may be ok for him, but not for me.
Please trust that mommy loves you more than anything in the entire world and that if there was anything I could do to give you more of a functional family, I would. Know this, though...you are more loved and waited for than you can imagine. You have more people who love on you and hug on you and talk to you on a daily basis than most people have in a month! You are already so precious to so many people, I promise you will never, ever feel like you are lacking for any love.

You are so, so loved and ALWAYS will be.
Love,
Mommy

Molly saves the day....

Well, my day, at least.

We had to go out of town this weekend, and as per usual, were in a bit of a rush on Thursday as we were last-minuting it to make Herr Ennis's (I mean, my dear, sweet husband's) schedule. Soooo...taking care of a box of Joe Corbi cheese bread I bought at school about 8 years ago (and left in the school freezer for that long, probably) and FINALLY brought home was not really on the big agenda, but certainly needed tending to so it didn't get wasted. Times are tough, you know? I carefully weighed my freezing options--make it fit upstairs and save a trip downstairs (which, is NOT fun these days as hips hurt, legs hurt and belly hurts, not to mention I get out of breath just talking) or suck it up and hit the dungeon. Well, it was my lucky day, as I opened the freezer part of the refrigerator upstairs, saw (imagine angels singing) the PERFECT shelf available and put the box of cheese bread in nice and snug-like. Yes, I realize it was snug, but it worked. Then, I closed it, carefully assessing the risk of it not letting the freezer door close, and imagine my glorious excitement as I stood there waiting for the door to pop open and it DIDN'T! I stood there a good 10 or so seconds, just waiting...and NOTHING. SUCCESS.

Or so I thought....when we got home on Sunday afternoon, I was out on the deck trying to enjoy the nice weather and I hear John going BALLISTIC in the kitchen. Thinking he lost a toe or something, I ran in and saw him slamming something kin to soggy bacon on the island. "What happened?" I innocently asked.

"EXPLETIVE, EXPLETIVE, you left the freezer opened, EXPLETIVE, everything gone, EXPLETIVE, be more careful, yada yada."

Well, of COURSE I left the freezer opened...why would I want to preserve all the food in the freezer? And better yet, I MEANT to do it too!

After realizing (through some encouraging words on my part) that the world was NOT over, it was an accident (yes, I'm a magnet) and it was not worth the yelling and screaming, (remember, happy mommies make healthy babies!) John said he was sorry for getting so mad. Then he added that lovely, "I just wish you'd be more careful."

WHAT THE HECK ELSE could I have done to be more careful? What he MEANT was, "I wish you'd have just gone downstairs and put it in the freezer there." Yeah, well, obviously, me also. HOWEVER, it seemed just fine where it was when I left it.

Then, today, I hear the same grumbling as he complains that the ice maker is only giving crushed ice (the horror) and I probably broke the cubed maker. SCORE! I not only threw dollars away in ruined groceries, but added to the fun with the ice maker too! I rock. He pulled the thing apart and showed me how I fried (yes, little old me) the whatchamacallit that does the whateveritis.

And tells me, "It's a good thing you're carrying a baby."

Hence, Molly saving the day.

Goodbye, dear friend.

While one may chalk it up to the hormones, I can honestly say that the pitiful crying fit and subsequent three hour nap I had this afternoon was truly because I was heartbroken. Heartbroken as I bid my wonderful, hard-working and sad little Accord goodbye. We had to take the title to the body shop, and they will take it to the salvage yard. My little Rosie (named after the salesperson, Roosevelt Adams) deserves better than that.

That car was the first new car John and I bought together. We (I) researched, we saved, we looked...the whole story behind it is funny in that the only thing I would have changed about my car was the black color. I wanted silver. I ended up with black because the day we bought it, John took me to a nearby town where I was going to have some sinus surgery. Before the appointment, we walked into a dealer that was on the way, told them what we were looking for and what we were willing to pay, and fell in love with the Accord. I thought we'd found the place we'd buy, and later that week, we'd head out there and pick up the car. Instead, I got a phone call the next day, as I was recovering, from Roosevelt, the gentleman we'd been dealing with the day before.

"Mrs. Ennis? Its Roosevelt from Joe Alcoke Honda. Your car's ready!"

"Oh, okay. Well, we'll plan on coming out there this weekend and see what we end up with."

"Well, the one I got you ended up with a moon guard and the racing stripe, but I won't charge you any extra."

"Uh, okay...well, we'll see. We'll talk about it and maybe head out there this weekend when I'm feeling better."

"But I have it here now."

"Have what?"

"Your car. You bought the car."

"I what?"

"You and Mr. Ennis...you bought the car yesterday afternoon?"

"I did? Was I awake?" (Keep in mind that I had NO memory of this whatsoever, and was in pretty significant pain from the surgery)

"Yeah...you were awake."

"Did I sign the contract?"

"Yes, there was a little bit of blood on it, but you signed."

(Incredulously, I ask the question I was afraid to ask....) "Well, let me ask you this. What color did I end up getting?"

"The black one."

Of course I did. Rather, JOHN did. Right now, thinking back to that day, and that conversation that I very, very vividly remember, I can smile and fondly remember how fabulous it was to go pick it up the next day. I remember driving from Newbern to Jacksonville thinking that I just LOVED the car, and right up until Tuesday, I didn't love it any less. That car and I have been through all sorts of trials and tribulations together. Rosie and I took a road trip with my mom from Savannah to Wichita to see my sister in the Mrs. Wichita pageant. I thought that trip was rough at times, but I'm forever grateful my mom and I had that opportunity, because the following year was about different travel. For about a year, that car and I travelled 6 hours south to be with my mom and her chemo over the weekend and the next weekend, travelled 6 hours north to be with my father-in-law and his treatments. One of my favorite pictures of my sweet Random and Raleigh is taken in the backseat of my car, as we were travelling somewhere as a family and the dogs were happy to be with us. That car...9 years and 178,000 miles of memories, and I'll miss it.

So, welcome to the family, Wally. (That's the new car's name...after Waldorf, where we bought it.) You've got some big shoes to fill.