My Dad (a belated post)

The average dad, to me, is a golfer, a workaholic, traditional, the strong-silent type. My dad is not the average dad. And I love that. Lots of his personality traits are far from those of most. I am quite fond of them and have even noticed that I have inherited some of them, which is kinda cool. Not gonna lie.

#1 My love for UT Football and all things orange. 

It's in my blood. In our family, we're not just fans. It's actually pretty intense. We sing "Rocky Top" like it's the National Anthem. If you go past a house where we are gathered to watch a game, there is a good chance you'll hear the yells and screams from the road. When an orange jersey is in possession of the pigskin, running down the field, we all stand up in unison, chanting things like "go, baby, go GO GO GO!" And I'm pretty sure our hearts stop for a second or two. I hope to pass this trait down to my kids as well. I mean, competitiveness and the affinity for the Volunteers truly is a major life skill. 

Right?

#2 Just because you are your age doesn't mean you have to act like it.

Deep inside my 50ish year old father lives a 12 year old boy. Family get togethers are never dull. Dad adds tons of fun to any party with his shenanigans. Whether it's bursting into song, pulling pranks, telling a joke, or busting out his "nasty boy" dance, you'll be sure to laugh or at least share a knowing look and eye roll with another family member (that look that says he's at it again). Simply put, he's a fun guy. I've learned the beauty of a well fashioned build up to a punch line, the art of a good "scare", and above all not to take life too seriously. There's humor in every situation, and my dad taught me how to find it.

#3 OCD (organized, clean, detailed)

Want me to be honest? Growing up with my dad always getting irritated about minor details such as using a coaster, tucking in the sheets the correct way, or putting things away drove me INSANE. Dad's house is always in order, down to the magazines facing the right direction, "throw" pillows in the correct place, and t-shirts folded military style. But part of me is glad for it. There is a place for everything, and everything is in its place. It's better than living in a messy, dirty, cluttered home. I've learned to appreciate a neatly made bed, a clean house, and a well organized closet. I try to remind myself not to let it ruin my mood, though, if something is not clean or in the right place. And I'm already seeing signs of this trait in my two year old: toys meticulously lined up and facing the same direction, not leaving the room until finishing one task, etc. 

Oh boy!

#4 Family Is Most Important

I've learned from watching my dad that you do whatever you can for your family. No matter how inconveniencing or incredibly irritating the request or favor, you do it. You do it because you're family. And you love your family. No matter what. I am so blessed to have unbelievably supportive families on both sides. We all support each other in everything. No one tears you down. It is always fun. There is always love. We don't take ourselves or each other too seriously. I love that. It's comforting to know that we can mess up and not be perfect, knowing our family will still be there to help us out with love and support. 

Dad,

I love you more than words can say. I feel a closeness to you that most daughters don't feel with their fathers. In a way, I feel that we've grown up together. Since I started college, I feel like we both have matured beyond measure. You have become a father that I love so much, it makes me tear up just thinking about. Thank you so much for loving me and supporting me and telling me that you're proud of me. It means more than you know. I'm proud to have you as my dad and Aiden's grandfather. SO PROUD. I love you.

"Verb."

A Land Rover, a Policeman, and a Russian Jew

So Friday...

Aiden and I woke up to our normal routine: breakfast, coffee, Yo Gabba Gabba, and blogging. As Jamie left for the day, we made plans to have a date night. Something that was looooong overdue. Yay! I had cleaned the house all day Thursday, so I was ready to get back to the pool for some much missed UV rays. We met Aunt Vickie at the pool, and had a wonderful time soaking up the sun and splashing around. After all the fun was had, we packed up to head home. The sequence of events to follow are very important to the outcome of the rest of the day.

Exhausted from the heat and craving lunch, we strolled through the parking lot towards my car. Aiden always holds the keys. It makes him feel important. It's a toddler thing. Or a man thing. Anyway, we got to the passenger side of the car, and I opened the front door to unload the beach ball and beach bag. HEAVY.  While doing this, Aiden was right in front of me and pushed something on the key that made my car alarm go off. So I grabbed the keys to push the unlock button so the people trying to relax would stop cussing me in their minds. Oh wait, I forgot that my unlock button fell off of the key fob. So I pushed the closest button. The lock button. I then decided since the keys were in my hand and I could reach the ignition, I should start the AC before I load him into his seat. The car wouldn't start all the way (just the radio) "That's weird," I thought. So I gave up and just left the radio on.

I shut the door.

And there it is.

The beginning of a wonderful afternoon.

Items left in car: phone, house key, car seat, wallet, car key in ignition, battery running.

So instead of freaking out, I breathed in and calmed myself down. I thanked God for this little patience lesson and for the fact that Aiden was not in the car, and I calmly walked back to the pool to use Vickie's phone to call a locksmith. Because, of course we don't have a spare key.

I began searching for the nearest locksmith on her phone when we got the idea to call our friend who is a police officer. This way it would be free, and I wouldn't have to tell Jamie. Our buddy, Stevie, pulls through and although he was not available, sent another office out as a favor. We waited. And waited. And waited. Until finally we decided to wait in her car with some AC. The officer finally arrived to rescue us. Well, he tried. Bless his heart. He had to have had tried seven different methods with seven different mechanisms. Is was blistering hot, and there he stood in that solid black polyester uniform, wiping his brow and saying that this is a car he just cannot get into. After about twenty minutes, he left, ego bruised.

Let's discuss why my vehicle was so difficult:
1) The power lock is located in the dash/console, in the middle of the freakin' car.
2) The keys were in the ignition, turned on.
3) There was a plate to protect from the file thing.
4) The doors were constructed so that the inflatable bladder thing couldn't make a big enough opening.
5) You cannot manually unlock the door (pull up the lock on the door).
6) The door handle is waaay down at the bottom of the door.

I had to call Jamie. Crap.

I told him the officer said our only option was a locksmith or busting the window. He suggested busting the window. Jamie did not approve of that idea. Locksmith it is.

We called. We waited, and waited, and waited, and waited some more. By this time, my dad left work to sit with us so that Vickie could go home. Instead, Vickie volunteered to get us some lunch. Thank you Vickie! While she was gone, the guy finally showed up.

When he got out all of his tools, and began analyzing what the problem was, he made comments about the mangled door frame. Then he laughed. That was comforting. Before he began he gave me the price. $110. There goes our date. I told him he was costing a busy mom a nice night out with her husband. THEN he gestured to my FATHER and said, "Is this your husband?"

EEW!

Thanks a lot, dude. Then we talk about his accent and I ask where he's from. He asks us what we think. {uhhh...weird} I want to guess Israel, but I don't know enough. I mean, I knew he was from the Middle East, so I was not about to offend him to the core. But I noticed the way he was dressed and said, "European". Dad guessed, "Costa Rica". He then said, he was from originally from Israel, but lived in Russia, a Russian Jew. His words, not mine.

While working with this tool, then that tool, then yet another, he would sing. Loudly. "Na na eee nana" Or something like that. At some point I sighed and said, "ugh this day." He reminded me that I could be like the women in his country, sweating in the desert, forced to join the army at 18.

Well that put it in perspective. I mean here I was in my pink coverup, bleached hair, and sunglasses, impatient as all get out. Isn't that the best representation of an American? Sorry, America.

Even though he probably thought I was a typical American Jerk, he was still pleasant and actually pretty funny. He kept telling me to be positive and encourage him. So, I did. And it worked!

I was finally in my car. Two hours later.

He got his $100 (thanks to my dad's bargaining prowess). I tried, but he laughed and asked if I wasn't really a Jew as well. HA!

Got home. Gave Aiden a bath. Put him to bed. Took a shower. Ate a Magnum bar. All was well.

Jamie made up for the no date thing. That night, I gave myself a mani-pedi and we ordered a pizza. The next day I got to buy a ridiculously priced pair of jeans. Score.

Saturday Morning Scene

It's time to link up with Katie at Loves Of Life!


This morning, Aiden is eating apples whole! Well, sort of. Instead of itty bitty pieces, he gets wedges. What a big boy! Watching him figure out which side to eat was pretty cute. But then again, pretty much anything he does is cute. After breakfast, he went for a Harley ride. His favorite thing to do on the Harley...chase the dog.

And then, this happened. I realize it's kinda mean to have not rescued him right away. But it was just too cute!

Hope you are having a wonderful Saturday!

He Proposed

It was a Saturday. My friend/roommate, Jen, and I were driving back from a hard day's work when Jamie asked me to run an extra errand for him. I can't exactly remember what it was. I just remember I was extremely irritated because I reeeally wanted to go straight home and chill-ax. So we get home to watch the Tennessee vs. Auburn [gag-cough-gaaaag] Championship Game. We lost. I was pissed. I remember working on some kind of report that night too. Not fun. So this was not a good evening. We were just hanging out when he suggested we go on a donut run. I am very fond of donuts. I used to be very fond of the midnight donut run, too. I mean, I was in college. Duh. So we left to go get some Lamar's Donuts (man, I miss that place).

On the way back with the donuts, the conversation turns to marriage and entertaining the idea of going to a Chapel that night. The said Chapel was located on Monteagle Mountain, our halfway meeting spot (he lived about an hour and a half away). Going to the Chapel was an ongoing inside joke between the two of us. So I was playing along with the joke, as usual, when all of a sudden I notice him turning onto the interstate instead of going home. WHAT?! I could feel my heart speeding up. Our conversation went something like this:

Me: Ummmm...are you serious?
Him: Yes, let's do it!
Me: Our parents will kill us! Especially our mothers! I don't think this is a good idea, Jamie.
Him: You want to marry me right? I think we should just go and see what happens.
Me: [silence]

Here's the thing: I was actually excited about finally marrying him, but 1) was very confused because HE was usually the voice of reason, not ME. and 2) was kinda pissed because I wouldn't get my big wedding and big dress. I mean, come on.

So I stayed quiet and went along for the "ride". We get to Monteagle and at this point I was thinking we'd do it, but we would not tell anyone! Because there was no way my parents would front the money for a real wedding if they found out we did this. But I was going to wait to inform Jamie of this plan after the fact.

We're driving down a quiet, basically empty road. I believe it was around 2 in the morning at this point, when we came upon a beeeeautiful Christmas lights display. I have an insane obsession with Christmas: decorations, music, movies, you name it. So yeah. We had to stop. We get out of the car and walk down a sidewalk that was lined with lighted archways all the way up to a gazebo that was littered with even more of these gorgeous lights.

While we're walking, I grab his arm and begin humming the bridal march, "bummm bumm bum bum..."
Because that's what I do when I get nervous. I make jokes.

When we get in the gazebo, I looked all around at the illuminated park. While I'm enjoying this moment, Jamie gets extra cuddly and starts saying some really sweet things. Which is odd. He is always sweet, but rarely this verbal/mooshy-gooshy. So I begin thinking. I get my hopes up. I have to admit that what he said from that point on was a blur because my own thoughts were louder in my head saying stuff like, Is he going to do it? Is this it? I wish he would just do it! DO IT!

and then...

He got down on one knee. He pulled out the most beautiful ring I could ever have imagined. And he asked me to be his WIFE!

I got down on my knees too. I assume I told him yes, but honestly, I don't remember. I remember crying that ugly cry. You know. The one that makes you look like that tall guy from The Goonies? Anyway, I put the ring on, we hugged, kissed, and cried some more. We drove home on cloud nine. When we got there, I woke up all of my roommates to tell them all the news! It was awesome.

So that's how it happened. A midnight run for donuts. In pajamas. Christmas lights. On a mountain.

It was perfect.

We First Met

It was my senior year of high school. I was needing an after school job, and did not want to work at a restaurant anymore. I got a phone call from a family friend from church (who was also my computer teacher) about a job opportunity answering phones, filing, and other clerical stuff. I called them immediately and went in for an interview. Little did I know, my interviewer would soon be my mother-in-law. I got the job and began the next day. After not working there very long, we encountered a computer problem. She had her son on the phone and wanted me to talk with him to fix it. I remember talking with him on the phone and thinking he sounded cute. Such a high school girl, I know. So a month or so went by  with several jokes from my co-worker, Pam, about how we should date, yada yada yada. But I knew he was way older and that my parents would not be okay.

Which made me even more interested.

One normal afternoon, while filing some bills at the wall of cabinets, I turned around to see my employers walk in with their son. Him. The man I would one day marry. My future babies' father. Sigh.
He walked in wearing the old Knoxville Sports t-shirt and his signature black Nike baseball cap. I was done.

More and more months went by with more and more of his visits to the office. We got to know a lot about each other on those boring afternoons. Including the fact that he was in a serious four-year relationship.

Which, again, made me even more interested.

We talked daily about our relationships, likes, dislikes, blah blah blah. We flirted and joked on each other. He made me so nervous. And all of a sudden, I noticed myself begin to care what I looked like a little more. There were two occasions, one where we both went for the computer mouse and the same time and one where he walked by and pinched my arm (or something like that) that I thought I was going to drop dead right then and there. I was so smitten.

That winter, I turned 18. I remember being at the office, across from Mrs. Warren. She was on the phone with Jamie and reminded him to wish "the now legal" Britney a happy birthday. I thought that was pretty cool. After Christmas break, it rained for a week straight and school was cancelled. So I worked full time that week. You know, to make more money [big grin].

The weekend before, I had been on a "date" and had come home to Dad's house. I was sitting on the side of my bed, sniffling, and being super bummed because of how the night had gone when my phone received a text message. I looked and it said "how did your date go?" I recognized the number from work. I wiped those tears REAL FAST. We texted each other for hours when I complained about my thumbs hurting. He texted "phones work when you dial on them too, you know" and I replied "so dial."

He did.

So, needless to say, that full week at work was a little awkward/emotionally charged. I knew he was single. He knew I was single. I knew he was interested. He knew I was interested. But we tried to carry on like normal. I'm fairly certain that Pam knew what was up.

One night I was leaving to go home. It was pouring down rain. I headed out the door. He grabbed my arm and we smooched.

Cue the theme music.

Getting Excited!

Yaaaaay hormones!


*TMI warning:  Brandon and Dad, you guys can just skip this post.


Anyway, as I was saying, hormones-hormones-hormones! They're back in gear. And that means I have an actual, real-life, scheduled appointment with the doctor. I have seriously been waiting for what feels like forever for answers. But on June 27, I'll be on my way to getting some! Needless to say, I will be praying like no other for accurate results. That's all I am needing at this point. I am just so tired of hearing "just a fluke" or "It could be..." I am ready for identification of the problem, and I don't believe I thought I would ever say this, but...I can't wait to get started on the progesterone (if that's what I need)! Ya know, until this ordeal, I have never been so hyper-aware of all of the intricate factors that come into play to not only get pregnant, but remain that way. It's super interesting (I spend hours on google), but also kind of a bummer. With Aiden, I was just floating through a meadow in my Baby La La Land in clueless oblivion. Sometimes I think that ignorance is bliss. Fo' Sho'.

Well, enough rambles...I just wanted to blog today, and that is pretty much the only dang thing that is on my mind right now. My apologies.

Thanks for the sweet comments and prayers. Our future babycakes appreciates it!

Beginning of the Week Brain Dump

So, I like the idea of using the blog to dump my thoughts. I've been meaning to do this for a while!

My internet sucks at life. I have to refresh, refresh, refresh. This needs to be fixed asap, but I keep putting off calling. That means that someone will have to come out. So I will have to sit at home waiting for them to show up within a six hour window. And worse? I'll have to put a bra on.

Aiden is in underwear. Not sure how I feel about this. I'm of course excited and proud. Plus even more excited about the money we'll save not buying diapers, but it's kinda sad. Right?

I am IN. LOVE. with staying home everyday with this precious human. Something needs to happen so that this can be a permanent arrangement. Hey, God? Not trying to be whiny, but could you please make this happen soon?

My dog should have been fixed long ago. He is becoming mean. Is it too late? I'm not sure on the reasons, but I've always heard the sooner the better. I miss my sweet Bogey. He growls and pouts and snaps now. Not cool.

I'm growing extremely impatient with the whole aftermath of the miscarriage thing. Last time, I bounced back quickly. This time, I have to wait for things to "bounce back" before making my first appointment to figure things out. Sigh.

I miss my husband. I had absolutely no time with him this weekend. Time for a date night. I also miss Carrabba's.

I fear I have bitten off more than I can chew with the whole birthday planning thing. Last year, I bought the stuff at Party City and made a soccer ball cake. The cake alone stressed the heck out of me. So, to quote my buddy Heather, "I'm scared."

Done now.

"Not MY kid"

I know this phrase well. I can remember back in the dating days with my husband, sitting across from one another at a fancy restaurant, making googly eyes at one another (where did those days go, right?), when we notice a squirmy, whiny, overly obstinate toddler one table over. We would give a glance at the poor couple, stuffing any shiny object or tasty bit of food in front of the little caveman/woman's face. Then we'd meet each other's eyes with a knowing look and say, "Not my kid...our kids will be different."

Please excuse me while I double over with laughter.

Okay. Where was I? Oh yeah...we were wrong. Well, somewhat. I mean, he is still the most precious human I've ever met, and I am sure it could be much worse, but this week I met Caveman Aiden.

We got out and about on Friday morning to bring Jamie back after selling his car. When we took him home, I decided to do a little shopping. So we walked into Old Navy, headed to the bathing suit section where my bathing suit was not. They were out of my size. Figures. So that meant that my quick trip turned into a trying on trip. As I would browse and pick one up, Aiden would say, "Uuuu hold it." EVERYTIME. That was fine, but when we walked, he would trip on the strings and get a little more impatient. I knew the bomb was ticking, so I hurried up. Alas, nothing struck my fancy the way the original had so I asked the clerk to check other stores.

Um, Aiden didn't like that idea.

Clerk: They have one in Cool Springs. Do you want to put it on hold?
Me: Sure, that's great!
Aiden: Uuuu hold-joo!
Clerk: What's your name?
Me: [picking up Aiden] Britney
Aiden: Uuuu walk!
I put him down and he straight up BOLTS! I grab him. He whines.
Me: Aiden, DO NOT RUN!
Aiden: Raaaaawr! (wow, that's new)
Me: If you don't want Mommy to hold you, you have to stay right here, okay?
Aiden: Okay. [drops to the floor on his belly]
Clerk: They'll have it up front for you. [glances down at Aiden]
Me: [laughing to myself because I remember the phrase "Not my kid"] Okay, thanks!

I scooped up my caveman kid, and we walked out the doors.

We're working on the growling thing.

Saturday Morning Scene

This morning, after breakfast and some much appreciated Dunkin' Donuts coffee, we headed up to Aiden's room to revamp his baby changing table. I got the baby stats idea from pinterest via Ashley at I Love You More Than Carrots. If you're not on pinterest, you should be. It is way fun. Nuf said. So this was my attempt at the oh-so-cute baby stats graphic. Not too shabby (seeing as how I used microsoft word and printed it on paper). I took these with my phone because I was too lazy/excited to go all the way downstairs to get the camera. But at least I tried to get fancy with picnik. That counts.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room...

Now, it's off to the pool for some more 95+ weather! chicka chicka yeah! HAPPY SATURDAY!