What's that you say? It's Father's Day and you don't have a gift from us? You're feeling let down and as though you can't possibly enjoy your day without something nifty from me and Sammy to say how special you are to us? You're wishing with all your heart that you had some token of our affection and devotion? Sheesh. You're so needy. Well... All right then. Here you go:
Happy Father's Day Grampa and Daddy.
We love you.I wake up early this morning, as I have on countless mornings, to the sound of my dad upstairs getting ready to go somewhere. This weekend he's going fishing, and on Monday he's going to the hospital for another stem cell transplant.
I look at the clock. It's almost five, time for him to leave. I get out of bed and go upstairs to give him a hug goodbye. I tell him to have a good trip and a good first few weeks in the hospital because I'm not planning on seeing him till the beginning of July. I'm not looking forward to being away from him when he's sick in the hospital, I hate it. Letting go of him is a little hard this morning, but I don't make a fuss and I go back to bed.
As I lie there I realize I forgot to say "I love you". He already knows though. That's what I say to myself. He knows. My actions show it. I've said it before. There's no point in getting out of bed and going all the way back upstairs to say it. Plus, he'll think I'm being weird. And he's going to be fine in the hospital. This isn't my last chance to say it to him in person. And besides, he already knows. But I can't stop thinking about it.
I hear my door squeak open.
"Becky?" Dad says.
"What?"
"I forgot to say I love you."
I love you too Dad.
Hannah is still in her "don't put me down EVER" phase, which means I'm still doing a lot of things one-handed. One thing I can do really well with one hand is use a mouse, and I can nurse Hannah with the other. This works out well for playing games like Farm Town on facebook. I really only started playing because Mom and Dad and Shirley were doing it and wanted me to do it so I guess I have them to thank for the hours of contented nursing that I've been enjoying.
Actually, doing something because everyone else is doing it ends up producing positive results for me most of the time. It's why I started playing Farm Town. And why I started watching Grey's. And it's why I wear clothes most of the time. So really, sometimes peer pressure is a good thing don't cha think?
(The picture is of me hanging out with some friends on Farm Town. Good times.)
(Hi John.)
If you want to have even a HOPE of convincing me to buy your product, answer your survey, or donate some money DO NOT use a computer to phone me up to five times a day. DO NOT think it's okay to leave me waiting for much longer than ten seconds (or more) for a human being to come on the line and tell me why you've been harassing me. DO NOT hang up on me when I ask you to speak up because I can't hear you over my screaming baby. And finally, after you've hung up on me, DO NOT try to tell me that there must have been another reason why the last one of your cronies hung up on me.
'Cause seriously. I'll go off on you. And I promise. The next time I won't even be this nice. This was just a warm up.
(I have no idea why any company or charity would think that computer phone calls would make them any money. They just piss me off times one hundred. And after I get about twenty of them with nothing but silence on the other side I am practically guaranteed to tell them off without even the benefit of a "Could you speak up please?" You would think they'd figure out that they get better results when they use actual human beings to phone their victims.)
I remember that at this time, five years ago today, I'd made it to around nine centimeters. Everything was moving so fast. We were all sure I'd have my baby boy within the next few hours... And around twelve endless and agonizing hours later...
(Actually, this picture was probably taken closer to fourteen hours later, since I didn't get to meet him till a few hours after he was born.) Look at all his hair! And look at how puffy my fingers are! All that fluid... No wonder they make you take off your rings.
In this picture I was still totally stoned and only mostly conscious. I don't even remember it being taken. All I can remember are brief flashes... Glen walking in with him, me being shocked by his thick dark hair, the weight of him in my arms FINALLY, and the nurse helping me to nurse him for the first time. It sucks to have missed so much of his first hours, but I'm glad that I can at least remember the first time I saw him. In my opinion, planned c-sections are definitely better than emergency ones mostly for that reason, but I'd do the whole thing all over again ten times if that's what I had to do to get my Benjamin.
Happy Birthday buddy. Your mommy loves you more than words could ever say, and she's so glad that five years ago you changed her life forever by coming into this world to be her Benjamin.
I'm not having a very good day today. I wish it was sunny. Somehow when things are sunny, everything seems a little easier to take. I'm cleaning the house to try to make things feel better, but it's not helping.
What's wrong? Oh, lots of dumb things contributing to make everything seem worse than it is.
First of all, I'm getting a little frustrated with my inability to remember things. These are the things I've forgotten in just the last week:
