2012

Holy crap! We're already doing this? It seems like I was just posting an end of the year wrap up a few weeks ago for 2011.

2012 has been one hell of a year for my family. I figured to make it fun and hit the highs (and lows), I'd make a little countdown of the biggest moments of 2012, here at Kline Headquarters. Here they are in no particular order:

#10: Phoenix turned a year old! This was a little bittersweet for both Dayton and I because we knew it was the last "first birthday" we'd be celebrating. At the same time, it was also a little bit of a relief....because it was the last "first birthday" we'd be celebrating. ;) You can read about the little man's big day here and here. Be ready to look at pictures.

#9: My baby girl started REAL school! Big girl school! My sweet ZoeJane has officially started her long journey to college, a career, life in general. You can read all about that here.

#8: We had a health scare with Michael. It was made even more terrifying by the fact that every Dr. we saw felt the need to tell us that it could be cancer. They just couldn't make up their minds to rule it out. This was by far the most terrifying thing we've experienced as parents thus far. We ended up being so lucky. God is good. You can read everything from the beginning of the ordeal, to late night hospital ramblings, to his surgery post here, here, and here.

#7: We officially made the permanent decision to stop adding to our brood. It was an emotionally tough decision to make (it's hard to make such a permanent decision!), but it was the best decision for us. Sorry, don't have a link for that one. I didn't think you guys would want the deets ;)

#6: Dayton left the Marine Corp on a medical discharge. And while overall, he's been happier since he's been out, the transition was a bitch. It's really different for us, because we've been a military family since we got married.

#5: I finally got my own car! We've been a one car family since we got married, too. That's a phase that I'm happy to put behind us. You can get a glimpse of my newest baby here. =D

#4: Dayton was baptized. This was particularly meaningful because my dad is the one who baptized him, and my dad also baptized me when I was 12. And of course for another reason that will be covered further along in this post.

#3: We made our first trip to Michigan in almost 3 years! If you'd like, go ahead and check out the evidence.

#2: Dayton and I celebrated 7 years! Our wedding anniversary and Halloween all in the same week!

#1: My dad got sick. My dad died. I pushed through and managed to give a eulogy at his service without breaking down.

This year was one hell of a ride. And I'm going into the New Year with something I never thought I'd be moving forward without: my daddy. Last New Years Eve, I never imagined that this year's post would end with me talking about losing him. I wish I would have known. Tonight, when I think back over the last year, I'll shed tears without a doubt...and because of that, I'll consider this a beneficial year of learning and growing. Tomorrow, we'll all wake up and start all over. Screw 2012...let's make 2013 EPIC!

Daddy-

A few minutes ago, I opened up my email account and there was an email from YOU. I shit you not. It was spam...but still, I find it a little...shocking.

It couldn't have come at a better time. The last couple of days have been really hard. It seems like the permanence of you being gone is finally starting to set in and my heart hurts in a way that I never knew it could.

I keep replaying all those moments, and the one-ended conversations in the hospital, the weeks before you got sick....none of it makes sense. Did you ever hear what I was saying after you were sedated? Did you know you were sick before the day you went to the emergency room? Did you know that you were never going to wake up when they sedated you? Were you scared? If you knew you were sick, why didn't you tell someone? Didn't you know that what losing you would do to all of us?

Honestly, I don't know how I feel. Some days, I can't stop my crying spells. Other days, I feel numb and heartless. When I used to think about what it would be like to lose you, I used to flip out. I even remember having to call you to calm me down about it one day. But now, I've actually lost you, and I'm calm. I'm not a mess. I'm holding it together. It all still feels a little surreal. And that scares me....because how much more can my heart hurt? (I realize nothing about this paragraph makes sense)

How am I supposed to make sense of this? I'm here...you're not. Nothing about that makes sense or feels natural or right to me. I don't know how I'm ever supposed to wrap my mind around all of this.

Another souvenir for the books (er, blog...)

Today was one of the hardest days that I'll ever face. I said goodbye to my dad. I think it would have been harder if there was a body, but per his wishes, he was cremated. And as selfish as it may sound, I'm grateful for that.

The layout was beautiful. A 16x20 photo of my dad...a close up of his face. And it was altered from an original picture of him holding ZoeJane as a newborn. It's one of my favorite pictures of him. There was an old bright orange skidder (tractor type thing....google is your friend with this one) that he's had since the 80's. It was always a staple in our house. He won it at a company party when he worked for a logging company and we've had it ever since. All the grandchildren (the boys, especially) have loved it. There was a smaller picture of dad, and some other pretties laid out, and in the middle...a perfect rectangle wooden box, holding what is left of my dad.

I kept looking at the big picture of him...looking at his eyes, imagining him giving me shit for being upset and nervous about speaking. And while the preacher was speaking, I kept looking at the box. After 69 years of life and learning, this is what it all comes down to: a simple wooden box.

I managed to make it through the service without crying. I started tearing up a few times listening to the preacher, but I was able to suck it up. My brother spoke and I was good....then I got up to speak and I thought I was going to cry just from facing the crowd, but I managed.

If you read my last post, I had prepared a well laid out eulogy for him...and I started out with what I had written, but quickly veered off track. I choked up three times, but was able to stop, take a breath...look at out the crowd for reassuring faces and keep going. I felt like I had to at least try. I never thought I'd make it through, but I knew I'd regret it if I didn't at least try.

I sat back down and everyone was shocked that I made it through. But then they started a slideshow. Against the Wind by Bob Segar started playing (a song that I know well, as a mix of Bob Segar and Tom Petty were the soundtrack of my childhood) and up pops pictures of my sweet daddy. Daddy with the grand kids, daddy with me, daddy back in his carefree days with his friends and when he was logging. Dayton started crying, and I lost it. They included a picture that I emailed to them of Phoenix's hand laying in his when Phoenix was about a week old. That broke me. I love daddy's hands. I always have.

After the slideshow, we (the family) left the room and had to stand in the hallway to receive people's condolences. People kept coming up to me telling me how great I did and how surprised they were. People seriously had no faith in me to get through it, and I think that's one of the reasons that I was able to. He would have told me to muscle through it just to spite them.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PmrkY-EZy74

I love you, daddy.

For Daddy

My dad was the best man that I have ever known, the best father a child could ever have, and the best example of a generous man that anyone could ever look to. The memories that I have of my dad are simple: hitting a baseball in the back yard after school, taking long bike rides on Sunday afternoons (but only during the boring part of the Nascar races), and going to Sunday school every weekend…but they are the best memories. As I got older, the memories changed, but my dad’s dedication as a father didn’t, even when it meant supporting me in something that he didn’t necessarily agree with. Because that’s what kind of man my dad was: strongly opinionated, but ultimately committed to being the best father that he could be. The fact that he was such a good dad has meant that every day since he has been gone, my world has been a little darker, a lot scarier, and much less funny. And daddy would hate that.

He hated the idea of someone being sad, and if it meant cracking inappropriate jokes or teasing someone to make them smile, he would do it. Even in the worst of times, daddy could find a way to make someone smile…and that is exactly how he would want to be remembered.

There are no words to adequately describe the sense of loss felt by my family, my dad’s church family, and his friends today.

I have no idea how we’re supposed to move forward without him, how I’m supposed to explain to my son why he can’t call his papa 6 times a day just because he wants to, or how I’m ever going to be able to manage sitting in church without looking over and seeing him at the end of the pew. But starting tomorrow, I’m going to wake up every day and try, because that’s what daddy would want me to do, that’s what daddy would insist that I do, that’s what would make my dad proud. And if I can make him just a fraction of how proud he’s made me, I’ll be doing okay.

Saturday at 2pm, family and friends will gather to say their final goodbyes to my dad. Or his ashes. I've never been to a funeral (er, service) where someone was cremated and I'm not sure exactly what to expect (Is it going to be as upsetting as it would be to see his body? Will I still have closure?). I'd really like to say a few words, but 1, I'm not good in front of crowds and 2, it's hard to be optimistic about those public speaking spills when your mother flat out tells you, "I don't think you can do it". Thanks for the vote of confidence there, mom. I'd like to push past the fear of the crowd and the emotions (that I may lose control of) and do it for my dad...but I just don't know. Besides, what do you say about/to someone when it's the last time you get to say it?

I'm not sure what my deal is. I haven't cried since I got the news Tuesday afternoon. I did a lot of crying while he was in the hospital, while I was at the hospital, while I was talking to him and holding his hands. But now, it's almost like I've run out of tears. Maybe I did a good job of psyching myself up for it before he actually passed away. I never felt very optimistic about the outcome. I just knew. I wonder if he knew. I wonder if he knew I was there after he was sedated, I wonder if he heard me.

My dad was the best man I've ever known. He was funny and practical and frustrating and a sarcastic pain in the ass. But he was my daddy. Logically, I always knew the time would come to say goodbye to my dad, but I never imagined it would be at the age of 25. It's terrifying, losing a parent. It's even more terrifying when it's so sudden and you realize that life really can be taken from us at any moment.

It doesn't make sense. My dad was a hard worker. He worked up until the day before he went to the emergency room. He was healthy (so it appeared). He was a man of strong faith. In fact, he baptized me at the age of 12, and Dayton on New Year's day of this year. And just like that...he was snatched away from us. And from gallstone (gallbladder) pancreatitis. I've never even heard of it. It doesn't even sound scary. And it's not like he had this horrible cancer that ate away at him for months on end. No, this bitch came and took him in 11 days. Eleven DAYS (Well, 11 days from onset of symptoms to death. They say that his pancreas had "been sick" for a long time). One of the last things he said to me was "I thought I'd done good...then I come all this way for everything to go all wrong at once". And he was right. First he was diagnosed with kidney stones, then gall stones, then critical pancreatitis, then his lungs filled with fluid, then his kidneys started failing....it was one thing after another. It just isn't fair. Maybe I'm still in shock (yes, this just occurred to me).

Rest well, Daddy

Yesterday, December 11th at 3:23pm, my daddy passed away peacefully from gallstone pancreatitis.

For those of you who don't know, he went to the ER on Thursday (the 29th) morning for severe stomach pain and vomitting. By Friday night, he was having trouble breathing (that was the last time I saw him conscious), by Saturday morning he was on partial life support, by Sunday morning his kidney function had dramatically declined, by Sunday night he was on full life support, and early yesterday afternoon, they stopped his blood pressure meds that were struggling to keep his bottom number in the low 40's. It took just a few short hours for his body to give up after they stopped the meds.

My daddy was the best man that I've ever known, and I honestly don't know how my heart will ever begin to heal.

Dear Daddy,

About three times today, Michael has come up to me with his little heart broken, asking about Papa. The first time, he told me that we needed to go get you so he could bring you back to his house, because he could take better care of you and he could make you better. The second time, he said his heart hurt because he was worried about his papa. And the third time, he curled up in my lap crying, telling me he was worried about you...asking when he could talk to you, and begging me to go get you from the hospital.

These babies love you so much...but they don't have anything on me. My world will stop spinning if you don't get better. I won't make it without my daddy. So you HAVE to get better. You haven't had a chance to share a cup of sweet tea with Phoenix yet. You haven't helped me teach ZoeJane to read (though she's doing so good...you would be so proud of her!), you haven't been able to play "baseball" with them yet. And you haven't been able to show Michael-man the joy of a good race. I need you, daddy. I need you to teach me how to be the best parent I can be. I need you to help me make sense of this crazy family. I need you...period. I love you so, so much. I'm sorry I can't be there right now. I know that you would want me making things as normal as possible for the kids. And mom and I aren't getting along right now (which I know you would hate).

As soon as you wake up, no one will be able to pry me from your bedside. And the same goes for if anything goes south. I love you so much. I want to curl up in that bed and just be with you. It hurts to fall asleep not knowing what will happen. It hurts to wake up knowing that you're sick. And it scares me that you don't know how much I love you. I've taken you for granted so much for too long. I'm so sorry. I'll never be able to show you how much you mean to me...or how much you've ALWAYS meant to me. My childhood memories are brighter because of you. I married Dayton because I knew he would be the same kind of daddy you were/are. He is taking good care of us...but I need YOU.

I love you daddy. Don't ever forget it. 

Love, YOUR Carabear.

No adequate title...

There are no words to describe the pain flowing through my veins right now, but I am going to make a desperate attempt.

On Wednesday night, my dad started vomiting and having severe stomach pains. By Thursday morning, he went to the ER. There they found two large kidney stones that they were going to have to remove surgically. While they were waiting to start that, they got blood results back indicating an issue with his pancreas. They did a CT scan and found critical pancreatitis and a gallbladder FULL of stones...hundreds of them. There was also a large stone blocking the duct from the gallbladder to the pancreas. He was admitted.

They removed the blockage to his pancreas. Overnight from Thursday to Friday, he started having trouble breathing and his enzymes started getting worse. They moved him to ICU.

I picked ZoeJane up from school early, grabbed a few things from home, picked Dayton up from work early and we went. I saw him, with tubes down his nose and in his arms....it was the scariest thing I've ever seen. My strong, healthy dad...lying helpless. He was conscious then, so I was able to talk to him...tell him that I loved him...crack a few jokes. Then I left the room and lost it. He looked so old, so frail, so...not my daddy. I was able to go back in a few minutes later, this time with Dayton. Daddy loves Dayton. And he perked right up. It was so funny. Here is this big tough man, lying in a hospital bed, having trouble breathing....and he perks right up to see his son in law. Once again, when we left, I lost it. But I was able to hold his hand while I was there. I've loved his hands since I was a little girl.

Saturday morning, I got the call that if they didn't put him on a vent, he was going to die. His heart was giving out from all the hard work he was putting into breathing. This breaks my heart, because he is so scared of hospitals. Thankfully, they sedated him before doing anything. He's been sedated ever since.

I spent about 6 hours up there yesterday. I was able to see him three times. I did a lot of crying. A lot of talking. A lot of holding his hands. His vitals have stayed stable, which is good...but now his kidneys are failing. Since last night, they dropped down to about 17% functionality. The latest is basically the doctor telling us to prepare ourselves. He said they're doing everything they can, but it's not looking good and that it would be a "remarkable breakthrough" if he survives. Exactly what my gut has been telling me.

As a daughter, this is unbearable. As a daddy's girl, this is the worst thing that could ever happen. My heart is broken. My world has stopped spinning. To make matters worse, my mother has pulled out all the stops in her jealousy and need for control. She told me today that I can get information from her from now on, instead of from dad's nurses...but if I was going to continue to pass that information along to my siblings (her step kids), she would no longer give her information. I replied with "If you're willing to go that low, we will not be speaking anymore". She was fine with that and hung up on me (for the second time in about 5 minutes). I did manage to let her know (before she hung up) that his kids are part of this family too, and that they had just as much of a right to information as the rest of us. I told her that daddy would never want this (he wouldn't)...that he would want his kids involved. She said I didn't know what he wanted. I told her that daddy would be so disappointed in her. And he would. Actually, "disappointed" is an understatement. He would be livid, and rightfully so.

Seeing my daddy lying in that hospital bed....it was like looking at superman facing his kryptonite. It was unbearable. But I never let him hear me cry (if he can hear me). I made it full of stupid jokes that he'd appreciate and a few things that I needed to say. The waiting is unbearable. I'm scared that he's suffering. I'm scared that if he wakes up, he'll be terrified. I'm scared that this is the end of the road. I'm scared that I won't recover if it is. I'm scared of the inevitable shit storm that will happen within this family. Daddy has always been the peacekeeper, the buffer, and the glue. This family won't recover if we lose him.

They say if by some miracle he survives, this will effect him for the rest of his life. He'll never be the same. He will have to shape his life around what happened and the damage done to his body. He will not be happy about that.

How do you handle losing a parent? Especially when that parent is your only stable parent? How does a girl handle losing her daddy? How do you handle the waiting? How do you handle knowing he's suffering? Where's the instruction guide for learning to lose a parent?

To the Brink of Death and Back Again

There were a couple of weeks there that I didn't think I was going to survive.

On November 7th, ZoeJane got sent home from school with pink eye. Lovely. By that night, I had a sore throat. The next day, Michael and Phoenix had caught the cold symptoms she had. ZoeJane and Michael slowly improved. Phoenix and I got worse. Much worse. He never spiked a fever, but when his normally bubbly personality fizzled, I decided it was time to go to the dr. So last Wednesday (the day before Thanksgiving), I hauled all three kids in (just to be safe). As I suspected, the older two were on the tail end of colds. Phoenix had bronchitis and double ear infections. Poor baby boy. My heart broke.

Meanwhile, our original Thanksgiving plans were canceled, but I was still hellbent on cooking a big meal for ZoeJane. Because 1, they had spent so long learning about it in school and 2, she was just so excited for it and 3, because the poor girl's Thanksgiving break consisted of running around the house with her brothers while mom was near death on the couch. I probably over-did it. Turkey, made-from-scratch dressing, green bean casserole, slow cooked veggies, rolls, loaded mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce.

By Saturday, Phoenix was back to his typical peppy self. He had gone for a follow up on Friday and while he still has the ear infection (he's on antibiotics), his lungs were completely clear. And it's a good thing because he was just not having those breathing treatments. The boys go back this Friday for a belated 1-year check up, shots, and flu vaccines. It's gonna be a fun weekend.

Meanwhile, I'm still debating on exactly what direction I want to go with the blog. I can't decide how I want it to look. So, I'm standing by my usual motto of "If you don't know what to do, do nothing" until it comes to me.

I've got way more interesting things to post...but I'll do that when I have a little more time. For now, I'm working on my second glass of pink moscato (lovingly picked out by the hubbs) and considering taking the hubby to bed early tonight ;) You're welcome, ha!

Can I just get a nap?

It is entirely possible that I am dying (Not really, you're not that lucky). But if I was, I imagine it would feel like this.

Around lunch time Friday, Michael started running fever. First 100.8, the 101.6, the 102.3.....I alternated tylenol and motrin (just like the instructed me to do for his last high fever that landed us in the emergency room), and it brought it down a little...but not enough to make mama happy. I was sure we'd end up in the emergency room, but luckily we didn't have to go. Dayton came home early and came armed with the essentials. A new thermometer (because our's had had it and it was driving me crazy), juice, birthday presents for the boy (because we knew this meant we were going to have to cancel his party, which had already been postponed because big sister was sick during his actual birthday), Sprite, Cough drops, and a box of Vicks Vapor Plug re-fills. Now, keep in mind, everything except the juice and new thermometer were for me and Phoenix (Vapor plug). Michael had no other symptoms other than his fever. I pushed fluids like crazy....kept alternating meds, and finally got his temp down to 99.8. Whew!

I got Michael to bed, went to bed myself and got all comfy...snuggled up next to Dayton and started to relax and BOOM! Phoenix woke up with a gunky nose and mean cough. Cue saline drops, snot snatcher, diaper change, bottle, cuddles from mama, and a little while in his swing (that he's way too big for but still loves). Checked on Michael again, fever was down to 98.9 (yessss!).

Finally fell asleep, around 3am. Phoenix woke up at 5:30am SHARP. Wait, what's that? I'm awake and yet my eyes aren't opening. Sigh. I've inherited the pink eye. ZoeJane brought it home last Thursday and it's made it's rounds. I thought I was safe.

So, fast forward to now. I got about 30 minutes of combined sleep last night because both boys had a rough night. Michael had a cough and Phoenix.....well, Phoenix just didn't want to sleep. My chest hurts from coughing so much. My throat hurts from coughing so much. My head is pounding from having such strong coughing spells. I have ZERO energy. And frankly, I'm ready to curl up and die. If there's no improvement after the power nap I'm going to take when Dayton gets home and a night of rest tonight, I'll probably have my happy ass in the ER tomorrow.

Fun times!

Anniversary/Halloween week!

In other words, I've got a crapton of pictures for you guys.

From Phoenix's birthday on the 26th, until the end of the year...we have something going on constantly. Phoenix's birthday, our anniversary, Halloween, Michael's birthday, Thanksgiving, ZoeJane's birthday, and then Christmas! It's exhausting..and draining on the bank account, but it's a blast!

The weekend before our anniversary, the kiddo's were off to the grandparent's for a night and a fall festival at my parent's church, so we took the night off for ourselves. We had a fondue dinner (complete with apps and dessert) which was AMAZING. I'll only include one picture from that night so you guys don't start having really bad cravings ;).

On our actual anniversary, the hubbs gave me strict instructions to listen for the door. Of course, when I went to pick ZoeJane up from school, the surprise arrived and was waiting on my doorstep when I got back =). A dozen roses (a mix of pink, red, and white). The red ones are so rich and beautiful, they look like velvet. A teddy bear, a balloon. and a box of mint chocolates. And of course a card. Two days later, I got another card and two more bouquets of my favorite roses. I don't know what they're called, but they're dyed to look striped. I got a red bouquet and a hot pink bouquet.

Fast forward to Halloween. We had a Spider-Man (complete with some serious muscles), a Merida (from Brave), and a prisoner, complete with tattoos. We went to the Mall of Ga since it was so cold out (we didn't want the kids to have to completely cover up their costumes). We spent an hour and a half in traffic, only to get there are only like 5-6 stores were participating. It was disappointing to say the least. The kids barely got enough to fill the bottom of their buckets. So what does this mama do to fix it? I wait until ZoeJane is back at school, go to walmart, spend $10 on Halloween clearance candy (which resulted in a SHIT TON of candy), brought it home, stuffed their buckets and told them that Jack the Pumpkin King came to visit and drop off some goodies (we've good big Nightmare Before Christmas fans in this house). Politically incorrect to load your kids up? Probably. Did I do it anyway? Hell yes. I'm big on making sure my babies have happy holidays.

So, with that being said, here's the evidence!

Chocolate turtle fondue!

He spoiled me! <3 p="p">

Yep, I love this guy!

Merida <3 p="p">

All three babies <3 p="p">

A nutcase ;)

Mama makes it better ;)

Much better! 

What have you guys been up to?!

Happy Anniversary, Baby

Today is mine and my husband's 7th anniversary. This is always a big deal for us, because we've been one HELL of a ride! But we've managed to survive. We've been through all the nitty gritty things that most young couples encounter (especially young couples with kids), and it's brought us even closer and made me even more sure that I want to spend the rest of my days with him. Today, 7 years after our wedding, I'm still as excited as I was that day to spend the rest of my life with him.

I love you, Dayton. Happy Anniversary, baby.

Fan questions

So, without further adieu, I'll be answering "fan questions". In order:

1. What is the first song that got you into music?
I would say It's Been Awhile by Staind, but it got even deeper once I heard "Outside".

2. What does peace mean to you?
That's a tough one! I think that, to me, peace means letting go and enjoying the now.

3. Is blood actually thicker than water?
Absolutely not. I won't elaborate here. That's a whole different blog post.

4. What impact are you wanting to leave on the world?
I want to leave a safe place for my daughter...a place where she and her own daughters (if she has them) are free to make their own decisions. I want to leave the idea that monitoring your children and teens for depression is a basic step of parenting in people's minds. I want to leave my boys knowing how to treat their girlfriends or wives. I want to know that I made SOME sort of a difference, even in just one person's life.

5. When do you feel most alive?
I feel most alive when I have a carefree day with my family, when my husband has the chance to be with us, and we're soaking up life together.

6. What is your favorite time of year and why?
My favorite time of year is from the end of September, forward. That's when Phoenix's birthday is, and from there, we go to Dayton and my anniversary, Halloween, Michael's birthday, Thanksgiving, ZoeJane's birthday, and then Christmas. It's an exciting time.

7. Do you believe in an afterlife?
Yes.

8. What's your favorite quote?
One of two: "I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions."-Augusten Buroughs (This will be my next tattoo). And "A life with no risk is no life at all."-Sophia from The Golden Girls

9. Are your dreams usually good or bad?
They're usually very detailed, based on the past, and extremely disturbing.

10. What is the one thing you like most about yourself?
That I feel so strongly about women's rights. I hope to instill the same feeling about them into my own daughter, though I will understand if she chooses a different route.

Questions!

So a few days ago, I posted on the blog's facebook page that this week, I'd be answering questions. As of yesterday, I had only gotten one, which was related to a politician's recent comments about God intending rape to happen or something of the sort. But last night, my inbox got bombed with some pretty great questions. I'll be answering them at some point today. Stay tuned!

An explosion of fun facts

As promised earlier, here is an explosion of fun facts about your's truly. Because, as previously stated, we all know that I'm the most interesting girl in the world (note epic eye roll).

• I do NOT fly. I have had a fear of flying for as long as I can remember. I tried to conquer the fear back in 2006, about three weeks after ZoeJane was born. Of course, the universe decided to play a joke on me and put us on a dinky Delta connection plane. It did not end well. 
• I'm a sociology major (I get my nerd on, yo).
• Yes, I am aware, I am 25 years old and have three children. In fact, I had three BEFORE the age of 24. And that's the way we wanted it.
• I have 9 tattoos.
• There are two more that I want.
• I am very traditional in the sense that you will not mess with my man in any way, shape, or form without getting a bitch fit from me.
• I love the "f" word. But I'll refrain from using it in this particular post because I have a feeling my dad may be reading. Hi, dad! (You know you love me)
• I'm the youngest of EIGHT (count 'em, EIGHT!) kids. Think: real life Brady bunch, dysfunctional style.
• With each baby, I attempted to go natural. I ended up taking the drugs every time. Though, I made it to 6 cm with NO drugs (not even a dose of damn TYLENOL) with Michael. But only because my midwife refused me pain meds when I asked for them, stating "epidural or nothing". She's still somewhere on my shit list. 
• As a teenager, I was the virginal, anti-drug, anti-alcohol, anti-sneaking-out, pro-life, non-cussing, do-as-I-was-told-even-if-I-was-rebelling-hardcore-on-the-inside girl next door. Mom and dad, you're welcome.
• I've smoked weed once in my life. It did nothing for me.
• I enjoy unwinding and getting a little boozy. I can also throw back vodka and tequila shots better than most men. Is that a bad thing?
• My bad-ass Marine corp husband was too scared to take off my garter at our wedding reception. Dad, you've still got it.
• I was a very quiet, shy, reserved young lady...until I had children. With that first positive pregnancy test, a bitch was born. And because of that, all three of my children are happy, healthy, and well taken care of wherever they go.
• I still have all the poetry that I wrote as a teenager. I still like it.
• I've had the same best friend since I was 5 and she was 7. We've had our ups and downs, but she's my ride or die bitch, yo. 
• If I had my way (and my uterus would allow it), I would have had 5.
• My shit list is short, and I'd like to start shortening it, because frankly, I don't have the brain space to hold a grudge anymore.
• I'd love to write a book, but I have too damn much to say.
• If I wasn't such a puss, I'd have 6 piercings instead of just my ears and a hole where my tongue ring used to be. Still need to get that one re-done. 
• I am a HUGE (repeat: huge) Britney Spears fan.
• I am FIERCELY pro-choice.
• You can find out just how pro-choice I am, here.
• You can direct your hate mail for the above fun fact to carakline@gmail.com =) You're welcome.

If there is anything else that you would like to know, suck it up and wait for the next installment. Maybe I'll do a mommy-fun-facts next. ;)

A night on the town-kid-less!

It's our first night to ourselves in over a year now. It's funny, I kept checking the backseat to check on the kids on the way home, and now, I keep turning down the tv to listen to what they're up to, before I realize they're not here. I'm all gussied up and waiting for the hubbs to get home. We're off to a fondue dinner (well, apps and dessert) and a movie. I'm going to try to not call every 30 minutes to check on the kids. Wish me luck.

Annnnnd, why am I sideways? I've only had one glass of wine...;)

A few months back, Amanda Todd posted a video on YouTube. Her cue cards told a story of how she had been bullied because of one mistake. After a while, she drank bleach in an attempt to kill herself. On October 10th, she decided that it was all too much, and she hung herself. She was a month shy of 16 years old. This breaks my heart. And even worse, it terrifies my for my own daughter. Girls are mean. It makes me wonder; What if my baby girl messes up, and people torment her? How will I help heal her heart? How will I keep her strong? How will I survive if she tries something? It would kill me. If my boys are bullied,  it would break my heart...but how do you protect kids in today's world? Kids are mean. How do I protect them?

Annnnnd, We're Back!

So, last week, Dayton comes home and has decided we're taking off to Michigan for 4 days. I had about 2 days to get ready. We went, and now we're back. For some reason, being gone those 5 days feels like we were gone for a year. We went up to check on the Grandpa's (and I think the hubbs was a little homesick). It's going to take a week to recover from this! Ha. In the meantime (as always), here's the evidence:

Road trip essential.

I'm managing to look decent even though I've been up all night.

The girls. Yeah, we got crazy.

Phoenix was good to go in his monster jammies.

Michael is always ready.

Something was funny.

I've died and gone to confection heaven. (The insides were green)

Welcome to Cincinnati! 

Open a can!

Overall, it was a good trip (though exhausting). I took the time to get acquainted with Fifty Shades of Grey. Phoenix managed to break another tooth during the trip (didn't make for the happiest baby ever...). ZoeJane became our first child to fall victim to car sickness (what fun!). And we discovered on the way back that the Chattanooga mall is one DAMN big mall! I think we walked 3 miles in there!

More later, guys and gals!

Alas, I couldn't stop time.

So, Phoenix's first birthday has come and gone. It was heartbreaking, but he had a good time..and the grandmothers behaved themselves (long story for another post). Now it's time for a photo bomb. These are pictures of the party and the morning after.

This one is without a doubt my favorite. This was the morning after. 

The set-up

A very sleepy birthday boy.

Balloons!

He'll kill me for this picture when he's older.

He wasn't crazy about the mess...at first.

Then he got into it...

Sweet daddy making sure he got to enjoy some of the cake. <3 p="p">

Testing out the goods the next morning.

A trinket box "cupcake" that came on his cake.

I can't believe that I forgot to get "before" pictures of the cakes. I think I was too nervous about having both of our moms in the same house (for the first time since my baby shower) to think about much else. But lo and behold, I think the pictures I got were adorable. And it turned out to be a nice day. Now, excuse me while I go bawl my eyes out over the fact that my sweet baby boy is a baby no more...