Kellbell Squarepants

They grow up so fast

Have you ever felt sometimes that your children (for those of you that have any) could not possibly belong to you?  I'm not talking about those times when they have done something horrible and you wonder where you went wrong.  I'm talking about the times when you are struck with the wonder of how absolutely beautiful and precious they are.  I stare into my kids' eyes and wonder how the hell something so beautiful could have ever come from me.

And Aubrey is making her slip into being a teenager.  She's becoming more withdrawn and estranged.  We try to engage her and as much as I know it's a natural part of her "change" I still feel weird about it all.  Sometimes it's like I don't know who she is and I don't feel like her "mom" anymore.  It's a really strange feeling to see her growing up and becoming more independent.  And along with the sleep deprivation, it's really got me all emotional.  I know it's silly and it's natural.  I will get over it.

Julia is in her bouncy thing watching Nemo.  She loves it and she's bouncing like crazy.  She loves all the colors of Nemo and laughs when exciting things happen.  She has really gotten a lot more active in the last week or so and is so much fun to sit and play with.  She is still saying "hey" and "Hi" and still has a really big temper.  I don't suppose I should expect that to change.  LOL

Other than that, not much is going on here.  I'm enjoying not being in school, not having to work, etc.  I did finish my financial reports for Girl Scouts and now I have to start planning for the new year.  I still haven't found a place to have the meetings.  I guess I can have them here until we find somewhere else.

Well, I'd better scoot.

Remembering A Father

I meant to post this yesterday (being Father's Day and all), but I got wrapped up with the family.  Which I suppose is a good escuse for a day dedicated to a family figure.

My dad was one of those big, burly men you were afriad of.  Well... at least my friends were afraid of him.  I knew, or at least hoped, that he was really a big teddy bear on the inside.  I remember my dad playing with me when I was small.  I remember whisker burns and cuddles and even then I remember being somewhat afraid of him.  But as I grew, the gruff exterior grew.

When other kids would say "My dad could beat up YOUR dad," I would always win.  They wouldn't believe me at first.  I had kids showing up at my house to see my dad.  If others had seen my dad, they would say "Ahhhh no, her dad could put your dad into the ground."  Truth is, my father was not violent.  He just had that "look" about him that put people off.

My father was a protector.  I remember when I was a junior in high school, I wrecked his car out in the country.  I was with a boy and we weren't supposed to be out joyriding.  I had driven down a big hill and the stop sign at the bottom was covered in snow.  I didn't see it.  Guy (my boyfriend at the time) started yelling "Stop sign...stop sign!!!!"  I turned to see if cars were coming and the road, instead of going straight, did a little jag at the intersection.  I hit the snowbank on the side of the road that set Guy to screaming again.  "The the the the.... the the MAILBOX!!"  But I couldn't see.  Snow was flying up over the windshield as I plowed through the snowbank in the little Pontiac Sunbird.  BAM!!  We hit the mailboxes and came to a stop in the middle of the road.

"Oh shit, I'm dead" was the first thought in my mind.  I didn't mean dead right there on the spot.  I meant dead as in when my father found out I crashed his car.  We went to inspect the damage.  I had hit a solid metal post that had four mailboxes on it.  Needless to see, there were no longer any mailboxes on it.  One had flown 200 feet into a field.  One had broken all over the road.  The third one was embedded in the radiator and they never found the fourth one.

I ended up calling home praying that my mother would answer the phone.  No such luck.   It was dad.  He came out and picked us up and never said a word to me about it.  It turns out that he thought that Guy was the one driving the car even though I told my mother over and over that it was me.  You see, Guy had failed his drivers test seven times.  He thought I was out letting Guy drive. 

On the passgener side of the car, Guy had bent the visor in his bare hands.  My hands weren't big enough to reach around the visor.  It's kind of comical today and I still hear Guy screaming "The the the the..."   BANG!!!    "The mailboxes!"  My dad died thinking that Guy was the one driving that car.  My dad died a couple years ago.  The power of a father's love... Denial. 

I love you dad.  And I miss you.  Happy Father's Day.