Beautiful Girl

Edited Sunday - 9/30 -- Proof that there was indeed cake! (And Presents)





Today this sweet (at least sometimes) little girl turns three years old! She was unplanned but never unwanted. Rob's Grandmother was dying of cancer when we found out we were pregnant with Abby and the timing seemed very, very wrong. But turns out she was really a blessing. She has helped both of her Grandmothers through some very difficult times simply by "needing" them to care for her.

I will never forget the look on Rob's when the sonogram tech told us we were having a girl! He was convinced it would be another boy. He was in shock for a good two hours.... not disappointed, shocked. The whole dating thing terrified him even then. To say Abby has him wrapped around her little finger would be an understatement. He is the last one to scold her and the first one to defend her. That is a Daddy's job, after all.

This girl is the youngest grandchild (of 11 on my side) and really rules the cousin roost. She gets away with everything.... probably because the grandparents know she is the last one and gets anything she wants with a sad look and a sweet "puh leeeze". The lisp doesn't hurt when it comes to the cute factor.

Abby was a sweet baby.... she loved to eat... as you can tell by the smiling, chubby baby picture. But started sleeping all night at just a few months old. But those easy newborn days were NOT a sign of things to come. Our sweet baby turned into a tyrant at about 6 months old. She hit her brother for taking one of her toys and hasn't looked back since. She blames him if she runs into the table (J.T. hit me!) even if he isn't in the room. She also blames her PaPa for things she's done.... we don't know why. He was a mischievous child though, so perhaps she senses a kindred spirit.




She keeps us on our toes with her penchant for drawing on anything that isn't moving with anything that can possibly leave any type of mark (pencils, pens, markers, crayons, soap, chalk, fingernails, etc.). Her affinity for danger (climbing, jumping, leaping and exploring) we're hoping she will outgrow. She says "No" frequently but never seems to understand it when it is directed AT her. She is the first one to shout out the answers during circle time at preschool. We actually have to arrive a few minutes late so she can be the center of attention with both classmates and teachers. She is a diva. But she's our diva and we love her very much.

Happy Birthday Abigail. We will eat cake!

I Have a Weapon!

For all the CIA, FBI and other Big Brother types now reading my blog.... it's nothing deadly. It is a simple tank top with spaghetti straps and built-in bra. But it has power. Awesome power. It is Rob's kryptonite.

This tank top is the one I use for cleaning on super-hot days. The type I would never ever wear in public because it exposes waaaaaaayyyyyyy too much flesh and I am a classy, modest person (shut up Aunty).

I put this top on after work last week and short-circuited Rob's brain. His eyes would not rise above the level of my chest as he followed me from room to room in a daze. And I thought.... Hmmmmmmm. Perhaps I can use this to my advantage. Kind of like my personal "force".

I shall wave my hand like Obi Kenobi and say: "You WANT to stay up with the children while I go to bed early." "You've watched enough sports on television.... You WANT me to watch a cooking show." "You WANT to take both kids to Wal-mart while I laze about and eat chocolate and drink diet coke." "You WANT to take me out to a nice restaurant and a movie" (okay he really does want to do that one, just seems like the babysitting always falls apart on us).

I have the power. The power of boobs. May the force be with you. (insert Darth Vader breathing here).

Eddie Izzard

For Mary, who also appreciates an executive transvestite's sense of humor.

Stupid Antidote

Rob and I were browsing through the television channels Sunday evening and came across a news story about a man who put a rattlesnake's head inside his mouth to prove it was not dangerous. I think we all know what happened next.

Of course, ticked off snake bit him right on the tongue and his mouth swelled to the point of not breathing. His friends called for help and the man was given antivenom. He survived to tell his story and show gross pictures of his wounds on TV. (Thanks CNN! Nice to know your on top of the hard news stories).

Me: "Yes, there's anti-venom. But is there an antidote for stupid?"

Rob: "Death."

He's right isn't he?

Play Ball!

We took J.T. to see the Atlanta Braves play the Milwaukee Brewers this weekend. First big league game for both J.T. and I. We met our friends Chris and Ashlee (we were her surprise as she didn't know we were coming) and had a blast! Rob's cousin Thomas is on the left, then Rob, J.T. and me. Note small-town girl's deathgrip on purse.... too many tales of big city muggings for me!



J.T. ate two bags of cotton candy ($5 a piece!) and snarfled down a couple of drinks. We had sticker shock over the prices: $5 for a hot dog, $6 for a beer, $4.75 for a bottle of water and $4.25 for a coke, which really astounded me.... I can buy 3 two-liter bottles for that.... is the ice and the cup really that expensive?

Ashlee and I spent a lot of time people watching. She was upset that so many people brought tiny babies (bad for their ears). We observed many fashion offenses. Fifty year old women in spaghetti strap tank tops with wrinkly boobs hanging out the tops. Teenagers in teeny tiny shorts with things like cutie pie or diva printed across their butts. One woman with spiky short hair.... and rat tail side burns! Very odd looking. A few lycra offenders (why people, why? Even Lance Armstrong doesn't make that work). Belly button flashers.... and I'd say ninety percent of these people were NOT exactly buff. Ashlee even offered to buy me a pair of wrap around sunglasses (the kind they give out at the Optometrist after you've had your eyes dilated) after we spotted a pair on a blue-haired lady in front of us. But I told her I didn't want them if I couldn't have the brown lace-up shoes to go with.

Between innings they showed cool stuff on the jumbotron. My favorite was the kiss cam, where they show closeups of couples around the stadium and they kiss when they show them onscreen. Young, old, middle-aged.... it was cute. They flashed up a shot of a pair of teenagers sitting with one empty seat between them, leaning away from each other.... and the girl raised her eyebrows, and laughed.... no kissing! Then she mouths: "He's my brother!" Then they showed two guys sitting together.... but they wouldn't kiss for the camera.

It was fun. But J.T. got bored with the baseball. Here he is after the third inning and his 101st asking of: "Is it over yet?"

K-mart Hates Me.

Really Hates Me.

Whenever I get the bright idea that I will save time by going to K-mart (usually less crowded than Wal-mart) I end up paying dearly. This last experience has taught me a lesson. K-mart does not like me. I will never, ever go there again.

There is only one check-out line open when I go in. No matter how many people are in the store. After spending 15 minutes in line and finally making it to the counter, the cashier can't find a price in the system for whatever I'm purchasing. Or the person in front of me is paying with a check, a credit card AND cash.... and still can't round up enough money to pay for their item.

Last time, I got to spend five minutes in line with a family right out of Deliverance. Hadn't bathed in at least a year (just judging by the smell AND the coating of grime on their collective skins), had 5 teeth between them and were apparently allergic to laundry detergent, toothpaste and soap. Guess what they were buying.

Roach Gel. I know. I was surprised that any self-respecting roach would want to be caught in their house, dead OR alive. Ma redneck wasn't wearing a bra... I know this because she was wearing a large man's shirt with the sleeves cut out.

When the cashier runs the roach gel across the scanner it rings up$9 and change. Redneck family explodes!

Pa Redneck: "Nine Dollers! Thet sign sayud three dollers and fifty ceents! I seen it riyut there on da shelf."
Clerk: "Okay, sir. Let me call that department and see if I can get a price check."
Pa Redneck: "Nine Dollers! Thet's crazee!"
While the clerk is waiting on the price check, She ansers a call from someone inquiring about paints. She pages the hardware department to take the call.
Pa Redneck: "Roach gel Ain't in the hardwere deepartmunt!"
Clerk: "Yes sir. I had an outside call for someone in the hardware department."
Pa Redneck: "Hardwere Deepartmunt... thet's STOOOOPID. Roach gel in the Hardwere deepartmunt." Looks around at everyone else in the line and repeats himself. "Stoopid. Hardwere deepartmunt."
Clerk getting a little testy (me, too at this point). "Sir, I wasn't paging them about your request.... this was for another customer."
Pa Redneck: "Hardwere deepartmunt. Stooopid."
Clerk gets price check: "Sir, this item is $9, not $3.50."
Pa Redneck: "I ain't paying $9 for roach gel."

So do they just leave? No. They purchase as many candy bars, I think it was seven in total, as they can with their three bucks and change.

Hmmmm... won't candy bars lead to more roaches? Don't you think they'd have been better off saving up for the roach gel? Or splurging on soap and perhaps toothpaste?

Two Years

You know how we all have a fear that one day the phone will ring and that the call will bring bad news? Two years ago tomorrow, September 20th, I got that call. My sister phoned at about 7 p.m. to tell me that Mother called her a few minutes before and John was in the hospital. They thought he was having a heart attack. I called mother's mobile phone and she told me they were on the way to Savannah. John's co-workers had called and said he was in bad shape. I didn't think I had heard her correctly because she sounded so calm. Rob's parents came over to keep the kids and we went to GSU to pick up John's oldest daughter so we could all ride to Savannah together. Don't know why I felt an urgency that we HAD to get Patty and take her with us, but it was such an insistent feeling. Yet, I kept thinking: We're going to get there and he will just have a severe case of indigestion or heartburn or something and boy are we going to give him a hard time.

My brother Sidney called me while we were on the interstate and he was crying. I knew then. My chest felt like it would explode. He was crying so hard he could barely tell me that John had died. Patty was in the backseat and I was trying very hard to keep myself together. I just couldn't bring myself to tell her.... just in case, please, please.... they had made a mistake. Rob let me squeeze the heck out of his hand for the rest of the trip. It was so very surreal.... and yet I remember what I was wearing and the exact shape and color of the moon as I stared at it outside my car window.... full and orange.... a harvest moon.

I will never forget the way my mother's eyes looked when we entered a room they had cordoned off for our family. I knew it was true then. She had been crying of course, but the pain that just radiated from her was so overwhelming.... I knew that what she felt had to be so much worse than what any of the rest of us were going through.

I wanted to see him. I felt a very strong need to know, to see with my own eyes that he was gone. And I am so glad that I insisted on that. He looked so peaceful. Like he was finally at rest and I'm glad I have that image. I called my sister and we didn't really speak... just cried together. I remember realizing that I had to go to the bathroom and thinking how strange that this event that should make the world stop spinning has not. That the everyday functions of life go on even though our lives are shattered.

I never knew that grief actually creates a physical pain. My chest hurt for days. When we got home that night I laid down with both of my babies. I needed them with me.... their sweet sleepy arms around me and their warm breath on my skin. That peace that children seem to give off when they are sleeping. Tears just kept sliding down my face.... I wasn't sobbing, but I could NOT stop crying. My mind was whirling in hundreds of directions: sorting through memories, summing John's life up, wondering about the future, reeling in shock and disbelief.

It has been two years since that awful day. It goes without saying that our family is different. Before this happened, I thought that tragedy was a big bump in the road of life or an awful time of pain that you just dealt with and then moved forward. It's not that way at all. Sometimes it feels like we were going down a certain path in our lives and someone suddenly threw up a roadblock and we will forever be going a different way. Almost like you have been thrown into another life with no warning. I'm learning that grief is unique to every griever and that it is not an episode of our lives, but a daily part of us, forever.

That doesn't mean that my parents spend all day every day in bed with the covers over their heads or that they will spend the rest of their lives just waiting to die.... that joy no longer exists for them. It does. They laugh and have fun and love us and their grandchildren. But each day, John's death is a reality for them. Each birthday, family get-together and holiday brings with it a bitter-sweet joy. What a wonderful family we have. How fortunate we are to have each other. How awful that John is not here with us.

Grief is a part of us.... it doesn't dominate my life, but it is there.... some days larger than others. Sometimes it just fills me from the tip of my head down to my toes. Sometimes appearing suddenly. I remember the first Thanksgiving after John's death. A friend of my aunt's asked my mother: "How many children do you have?" I saw her hesitate. It was the "have" that threw her. The present tense. She finally said: "Four. Three are with us and our son John passed away in September."

The infamous "they" of "they say" fame tell us not to have regrets. To be grateful for the wonderful memories that we can treasure. But I don't think that is human nature. My brother was a volatile person. He made some poor choices in life. He bounced around from one job to another and was a terrible money manager. He experimented with drugs while in the Army and really fought against the rules my parents had for our family.

I took a tough love approach with him as I got older.... and there are days when that is difficult for me to handle. Was I too judgmental? Would I have been so hardline if I had known he would not be here until an old age? I don't know. I know in my heart that I loved him very much... and that I wanted him to set the bar higher for himself so he could live a happier life. But I wish I had talked with him more. That I had reached out to him more often. That I had called just to say Hello and I love you. That, despite our age difference of almost 11 years, I had made a stronger effort to find a friendship with him. Yes, I know I cannot undo those years and that my intentions were good, but these things still whisper through my mind in the stillness of night. The whys and the what ifs.

I'm very proud of our family. We have supported each other in these awful days and remain strong. Christie, Sidney and I spent hours with our parents sorting through pictures, sharing memories and writing a beautiful eulogy for John. His funeral was truly lovely. We did not have any regrets about our send-off for him or the decisions we made. Our extended families and the many, many friends of our family have given us so much comfort.

I'm proud of my parents for their strength and courage.... even on the days when they need to let the sadness just wash over them. When they are weak with grief and longing. They truly amaze me. I find their ability to bear this pain, to share it with us and not pretend everything is okay, a beautiful gift.

I am a person of faith. And seeing John in the hospital, I was overwhelmed with peace in those moments of seeing him, being with him in the quiet. Like his restless soul was finally calm..... like he had reached a finish line and could relax. I'm grateful for those moments. For the many moments and the memories I have of our lives together. And I ache that I will not grow old with all three of my siblings.... That I will not be able to share pictures of my grandchildren with him, that he will not see his children get married and start their own families, that there are Thanksgivings, Christmases, Birthdays and LIFE without him. But I'm so very glad for the life WITH him. I would not trade those years for anything.... even if I did not have to know this pain.