Love - Day 9 (warning, very long!)

Shh. Lean in a little closer. I'm going to tell you a secret. But if you try to tell anyone else, I'll deny it vehemently. You didn't hear this from me, but I love... seriously, you didn't hear this and you better not repeat this... I love my dog.

I'm not a dog person. Never really was, even though I grew up with a dog. I'm more of a cat kinda girl. They're just better animals. They're quiet. They're independent. They sleep a lot. They don't require much care. They are just my kind of pet. Dogs on the other hand? Loud. Rambunctious. Always jumping and running and barking and playing. They need lots of attention and can barely function without a human owner. I don't care for them much.

But we have a dog. She's a 4 1/2 year old yellow lab named Sunny. She's obnoxious as hell. She's got some major issues. MAJOR issues. She has severe separation anxiety and was on Prozac for almost 3 years until it started to destroy her liver. Yes, you read that correctly. I have a dog who was on a human antidepressant because she can't handle us leaving her alone for two seconds. Shoot, she can't handle it if I leave the living room couch to go pee. She's gotta be righttherewithyoueverysinglesecondofeverysingleday, otherwise she shakes and hyperventilates. She's a mess. Unfortunately she's not the first dog that I've had that has separation anxiety and needs medication. How, you must wonder, could I ever be so lucky? I've got to backtrack a bit to tell you how I became the owner, twice over, of mentally unstable dogs when I don't even like dogs.

The most important thing to remember as you read this story is the fact that I'm not a dog person. I like cats. Remember that. It's a very key point. Okay ready? When I started dating Jason in 1998 he told me how much he loved dogs and how he was going to have a basset hound once he moved out of his parents' home and into his own place. That should have been my flashing red light saying GET OUT OF THIS RELATIONSHIP BEFORE IT BECOMES A RELATIONSHIP! He told me that little tidbit very early in our relationship so that I had a chance to walk away. Someone should have knocked some sense into me 'cause I stayed with him anyway. He continued to talk about this damn basset hound that he was going to have one day. Basset hound, basset hound, basset hound. Do you know how ugly they are? How disgustingly stinky they are? How freakin' stupid and stubborn they are? Jason wanted the dumbest dog of the whole canine family! And this was the guy I was falling in love with!? What the heck was I thinking?

Anyway as the weeks turned into months and the months turned into a year or so I fell more and more in love with this man. I tried to talk him out of the whole basset hound dream of his. Wouldn't he prefer a cat? Perhaps a hamster? A fish? A wild raccoon? Anything? Nope. He was adamant. There was no persuading him to change his mind. Jason equaled basset hound. There was not going to be one without the other. Ugh I thought. At this point I knew I wanted to marry him despite the dog thing. I also knew that Jason would never actually propose to me. At least not anytime soon. And I knew that I would one day be the owner of a basset despite my lack of desire for one.

So I concocted a plan. A plan that would get me the man, give the man the dog, and would perhaps give me the opportunity to actually like said dog. I decided to propose to Jason using a basset hound puppy that I picked out as the "engagement ring". I saved up several hundred dollars and picked out a 16 week old female. Oh she was cute in the dumb stinky ugly basset hound way. I liked her... a little. So in March of 2000 I picked Jason up and told him that we were just going to go for a little ride. We drove and drove out into the middle of nowhere. When we got about 1/2 a mile from the home where the dumb puppy was living, I told Jason to get something out of the glove box. When he opened the door, he saw a red collar with a heart-shaped tag that said "Will you marry me?". He didn't say "Yes" or "No" or had any response to the question asked on the tag. All he said over and over again was "Did you get me my basset hound? Did you!? Did you?! Oooh I'm getting my basset hound!!" He didn't even care that I was proposing. He was too excited about that damn puppy. Eventually he came to his senses and stopped thinking of the stupid dog long enough to say "of course I'll marry you". But it was a short lived moment and then he was back to bouncing around in the car excited about the dog.

We picked up the dog and brought her home and named the pup Emma. We should have just named her Evil or Devil or Psycho or Stop-Crapping-on-the-Table-You-Stupid-Vile-Hound. At the time we were living in a 3rd floor apartment. We bought her a crate and thought that life was going to be good. Oh and it was, for Jason and Emma. But for me? It was a living nightmare. The dog hated me and I think I hated her even more.

Jason and I worked opposite shifts. I would be home during the day with her and would work in the evenings. When Jason was with her she was a perfect angel. She was quiet and good and would go potty for him. They would cuddle together on the couch or would "spoon" in bed. They loved each other and couldn't keep their eyes off of one another. It was sickening. She would growl and physically try to come between Jason and I if we were sitting on the couch together and I'd lean in for a kiss. When I was with her, she barked incessantly at me. I would take her downstairs to go potty. She'd pee a little and then we'd come upstairs and she'd pee on the floor right in front of me. She pooped in her crate and laid in it whenever I left her home for a little while so that I'd have to clean it and her up. All the time! She once peed on my side of the bed. In my bed!! The b***h! Oh and the best thing that she ever did to me? Just to prove how much she hated me? You're really not going to believe this. In our apartment, as soon as you walked in the door, there was our dining room table to your left. We would place the mail, our keys, our baseball caps (I wore one all the time back then) on that table. It was basically our catchall. One day Jason and I both had our hats sitting side by side on the table. Devil dog pushed the chair enough to be able to climb up on the table and, I kid you not, she crapped on my cap, on the DINING ROOM TABLE! She didn't even get one tiny Hershey kiss-sized piece of poop on Jason's hat! I had to throw away my favorite cap in the whole world because the dog hated me so much. I'll never forgive her for that.

I put up with that hateful mutt for two years. Two long miserable awful years. Jason couldn't understand why I was so upset. He didn't believe half the stuff I told him that she would do to me. She made me cry all the time. At this point we had two children, Riley was only a few months old. Emma was peeing and pooping all over the floor anytime I was home alone with her. I told Jason that she had to leave because we had a baby that needed to be able to play on the floor and there was no way I was going to allow my baby girl to crawl around on crap-laden floors. Jason said that it wasn't fair for him to have to get rid of his dog, that she was like his baby. I told him either she goes or the kids and I will pack our stuff and we'll leave. I wasn't going to live another day with that dog in my home.

He finally agreed to get rid of her. The dog that brought us together as man and wife nearly caused our divorce. We found a home for her with a friend who was a dog person. She had several dogs and trained them. Guess what? After a week of having Emma she returned her to us!! That's how awful she was. Eventually we found a home for her with a person who had other bassets. We've received a few updates on her over the years and supposedly she's a wonderful, calm, loving, GOOD dog. Good for them. I'm glad I don't ever have to see her again in my life.

Now after having had such a horrible experience with Emma, you'd think I'd never have another dog in my home as long as I live, right? Unfortunately, Jason's love affair with four-legged barking friends didn't die just because Emma left. He wanted another dog. Our two kids wanted a dog. So when we bought our first home in 2005 I agreed to allowing them to have a dog. But I told them that I would get to choose the breed. We decided on a golden retriever. They're beautiful, very family oriented dogs. I figured that'd be a good match for us.

We decided to go through a Golden Retriever rescue. We applied for adoption of a golden and was accepted. We were just waiting for the right dog to become available for our family. In the middle of this whole process, I read an ad on Craigslist about a free Yellow Lab. I told Jason about it and we decided to check it out. Hey, it was still a retriever so it'd be a good family dog, but she'd be free! Sunny was 9 months old at the time that we met her. The family had another lab, both of the parents had full-time 12/hr a day jobs, and a three year old deaf and autistic son. They didn't have the time or the energy to deal with Sunny (who was named Dakota at the time). Sunny had been getting in trouble at the home and they were fed up with her.

Jason and I thought that she just needed some one-on-one attention and a little bit of discipline and she'd be just fine. She needed rescuing from the home that she was in. So we brought her home that day. She did pretty well with us. Though we discovered that she had severe separation anxiety. We kept her in a crate and she would literally freak out. We tried leaving her out of the crate when we went anywhere and she was a mess that way too. It got so bad that our neighbor called the cops on us and we were told that if she continued to bark when we left the house that we would be fined $1000 from the borough because we were breaking a noise ordinance! We tried all kinds of therapy and behavior modification for her to get her to get over the separation anxiety. Eventually we took her to the vets and she was put on the Prozac.

After that she was a totally different dog. We got rid of the crate and things were good for a couple of years, as long as she had her Happy Pills. Unlike Emma, Sunny became super attached to me. I have been okay with it 'cause it sure as hell beats having a dog that hates your guts and shows you her dislike for you. Unfortunately we found out in September that the Prozac was destroying her liver and could end up killing her. We didn't have a choice but to take her off the meds. She's done okay without them, but lately her anxiety is getting worse and worse. The good thing is we live far enough from our neighbors that we don't have to worry about the cops being called on us.

This post was supposed to be about how I love Sunny and it turned into a whole "How come I hated Emma" spiel. So what do I love about our latest mentally unstable canine? Well for one, she likes me. That helps tremendously. She's also great with our kids, which is so important. She allows Matthew to pull on her tail or her ears, sit on her back, fuss with her paws and she just lays there and takes it without once showing any irritation or aggression towards the baby. Very very important 'cause her butt would be out on the street if she ever snapped at the kids. Oh and she's LAZY and low maintance, much like a cat. She sleeps all day long. She doesn't need to go outside every 15 minutes when I'm home alone with her, but the minute Aus gets home from school, she needs to go out about 6 times in a row. Sunny loves to cuddle up next to me on the couch. She makes a great arm rest.

She's just a hundred times better than Emma ever was. Having such a horrid dog in the beginning really made me learn to appreciate how good of a dog Sunny is, despite the anxiety. She has her moments when I'd just like to string her by her nails and hang her from the ceiling fan cause she can really piss me off too, but for the most part I like having her around. Just don't tell Jason.

Oh and speaking of Jason, he now has dreams of owning a Saint Bernard. HA! I told him he's gonna have to find a new wife first. There's no way we're getting one of those!

Love - Day 8

I love lazy days, especially Sundays. They're my favorite. I like not having to get dressed in the morning, just staying in my comfy cozy pjs all day long. I like it when we don't have any plans. The kids hang around, playing video games or watching movies. Matthew plays with his blocks and his trains. I might get to scrapbook. No chores to do, no laundry. We usually order pizza which means no dishes to wash.

I find that the during the week, in the evenings, I get into that lazy mode again, especially now that football/cheerleading season is over for the the kids. After dinner, I make the kids empty and load the dishwasher. I give Punky his bath and then I put my lounge pants and tee-shirt, put on my slippers and just get comfy for the night. I try not to have to do anything once dinner is over. Just sit down and relax, watch my favorite shows with the family and that's it.

Sometimes you just need to be lazy. And I welcome it with open arms and warm slippers!!

Love - Day 7

Well I guess it's about time I post about Riley, huh? She's the girl stuck in the middle of two rough and tumble boys. The princess of the family and oh does she wear the tiara proudly. Before I had Austin I always pictured myself as a mom of girls. I couldn't imagine parenting a boy. But I did, and it just felt "right". When I was pregnant with Riley I prayed for a little girl. I thought I'd had my fill of all the boy stuff--the trucks and trains and blocks and footballs. I was ready for a house full of dresses and bows and dolls. I thought I was ready for all that a girl entails. I was wrong.

I'm not a girly-mom. I get irritated by all the frou-frou and fluff. And oh, the drama and the emotions? Can't stand it. I'm not a very girly-girl myself. Riley is. We're polar opposites in so many ways. She's got my looks but she has the personality of her daddy. She's extremely outgoing, very hyper, very much into fashion and her hair, she's funny and weird and super sweet all rolled into one. We clash in so many ways. We butt heads on just about everything. She's got her dad wrapped around her little finger and it drives me nuts.

But she's my Ri-girl. The only one I have and I know that one day we'll be super close and will be able to appreciate our differences and embrace them. She makes me laugh (even when I'm rolling my eyes at the same time). Just as I was typing this she comes in (when she's supposed to be getting into the shower) and says "Mom let me show you my new move". She then proceeds to do some funky dance where one foot is stationary and she is spinning on it and shaking her hips and bouncing the other foot. It was weird and hysterical and so just a totally Riley move. She's just that way. Whacky. The girl loves life. She loves making people smile. She's just that kinda girl.

I can't wait to see the woman she'll become. I know she'll be something else, that's for sure. She has the best qualities of her father and me. She's going to be a great mother to her children. She already has such a strong and loving maternal instinct. Riley truly loves her baby brother. He is everything to her and she shows it proudly. She hugs him and kisses him and comforts him when he's hurt or sad. She loves to entertain him and keep him happy. And Matthew adores her. He waits for her to come home from school every day. He kisses her before she leaves every morning (I've got to literally pull teeth to get him to kiss me!!). They have a great relationship and it makes me so proud of her to see the way she cares for him.

Riley makes me strive to be a better mother. She's hard to deal with sometimes because we are so different but I'm learning so much from her. I find that she's the one that I blow up with more that the other two. I know I'm harder on her than I am on Austin and I try not to be. I know my weaknesses and unfortunately for her, she is the one that bears the brunt of it and receives the Monster Mommy yellings. I don't intentionally do it but because of our different personalities she's the one who gets to me most. It's horrible of me and I feel so guilty. But Riley takes it in stride. I think she understands me and knows that I'm not trying to get so frustrated.

One evening a few months ago I had had it with Riley not listening to me or doing what I asked of her. She has a tendency to get distracted easily and flitters back and forth between things. I don't remember the exact things that happened but I know that I was in a foul mood and Riley was driving me batty. I went off on a yelling rampage (I'm horrible with that and really need to vent my frustrations in a better way). Riley went to her room, upset. A few hours later I walked into my bedroom to get ready to go to bed and I found a yellow handmade card on the nightstand. The cover said "To Mom". On the inside was two sad faces and two happy faces with the words "Sad Mom. I'm sorry that I make you upset. Happy Mom. I will always love you no matter what. Love Riley". Oh my goodness. My heart broke and the tears flowed from my eyes. I felt horrible. HORRIBLE. How could I be so mean to such a sweet loving little girl. I felt like I was crushing her spirit and her self-esteem. I don't want to be that kind of mother, the kind of mom that my own mom was to me. The next morning I thanked Riley for the beautiful card and apologized to her for yelling at her. I told her that I was so sorry for being mean and that I just wished that she would listen to me and do the things I asked of her. I will forever keep that card that Riley made me, as a reminder to myself that I need to be a better mom to my daughter.

We don't always agree on things. She may physically look like my Mini-Me but we're so different in so many ways. I love that girl with all of my heart and I don't want to make her feel worthless or unloved or unappreciated. I don't want to ever make her feel bad about who she is, because she is the person that God intended her to be. I need to learn from her and enjoy things a little more, take life a little less seriously. Do my hair and wear glittery lipgloss and stinky cotton candy perfume. Sing at the top of my lungs, crack up at dumb jokes, create funky dance moves. But more than anything I just need to show my little girl that I absolutely love and adore her, despite our differences. She's the only girl I've got and I'm lucky to have her!

Love - Day 6

I love love love hot showers! Ahh, is there anything more relaxing and at the same time rejuvenating than a nice hot shower, with GREAT water pressure? I, myself, can't think of too many things that can top that.

I love the moments of total peace, away from the fighting kids, the screaming, whiny toddler, the barking dog, the, ummm... wonderful, non-nagging husband! LOL! Our bathroom is especially great 'cause if I turn on the exhaust fan, I can't hear a single thing going on outside of that bathroom. I'm in my own world, just me, the water, and the fresh smell of shampoo and soap. Ahh!!

I just wish I could stay in there all. day. long. Every. single. day! Wouldn't that be bliss? Though I'm not sure if I can really pull off the attractive wrinkled prune look. And who would take care of the screaming whiny toddler, the fighting kids and the barking dog when the wonderful, non-nagging husband is at work?

Love - Day 5

I love federal holidays. Love 'em. It's an extra day that my husband gets off and my kids are home from school as well. It's sometimes hard being the wife of a mail carrier 'cause right now Jason works 6 days a week, 10-12 hrs each day. The only day off for him is Sundays, and on that day he's so beat from the previous work week that all he wants to do is veg out on the couch most of the day.

But on federal holidays, we get one extra day with him! The kids love it and so do I. Yesterday was Presidents Day so of course he didn't have to work. We decided to take the kids to the Whittaker Center, a kids science museum in Harrisburg. Normally the day would have cost us more than $60 for our family to go and visit the museum. However, we learned that on MLK Day and Presidents Day a local bank sponsors the museum and opens it to the public for free!

We called up Jason's sister and BIL and invited them and their kids (Jake, 4 and Summer, 2) to join us. Unfortunately his sister had to work but BIL, Andy, was able to come along with the kiddos. We all had such a blast, even my big kids. There were all kinds of hands-on activities for them to do. We got to feel what Category 1 Hurricane winds would feel like. We made giant bubbles, completed a simple electrical current, learned about our anatomy. We saw an experiment with liquid nitrogen which was awesome. There also was a Kids Place that was intended for children under 5. Andy and I took Matthew, Jake and Summer through that. They played with water, climbed up and down equipment, created vehicles using supplies similar to K'nex. Matthew's favorite area was the Farmers Market where he got to play with plastic fruits and veggies and food. I think I'm oing to have to buy the kid some playfood because I could hardly get him to leave that area.

I think the best part of the day was the egg drop. The kids had to use recycled boxes, balloons, newspaper, plastic bags and other assorted materials to create a contained that would allow an egg to be dropped more than one story without breaking. We all had so much fun creating it. Austin and I worked together, Riley and Jason worked together and Andy and the little kids created one as well. The museum employees then dropped our eggs to see which ones survived. All three of our eggs made it and the kids were all so ecstatic. It was fun watching the others' contraptions, especially the ones that just went *SPLAT*!

We all had such a great time together, playing and learning and just being together. I just wish there were more federal holidays each calendar year. Only three more months until Memorial Day!

Here's a few pictures from our day:

Matthew loved the water play table...

...and the Farmers Market

Riley and Jake learned about Sound Waves

My niece and nephew, Summer and Jake

Riley got to feel a tornado and learn about its formation

Matthew and his daddy

Egg drop!

Riley and Jason and their egg drop contraption

Austin and his egg container

Love - Day 4

I absolutely love having a little person in my home again. It had been seven years since we had a baby or toddler running around here. Matthew has been such a joy and I'm so thankful that God allowed us to share our lives with him. I'll be the first to admit that I love babies. Love 'em. Love the smell of them, the sounds of them (unless its screaming at 3 a.m., then the love, not so much!). I love to hold them and feel them snuggled up against my neck. I just adore babies. Once those babies get big and become real people, the infatuation with them fades a little. Not saying that I don't like children, 'cause I do, but its the babies that get me more.

Matthew has been a bit different for me. True, I miss the baby stage with him and think it all has passed way too quickly for me, but I am enjoying the little boy that he is becoming. He is learning and discovering and its awesome to watch. He gets so excited at the littlest things and that excitement is contagious. Just yesterday I was showing him how to use his spoon and scoop into a cup of applesauce and bring the spoon to his mouth to eat (rather than just using his hands and grabbing big globs of messy applesauce and shoveling that in his mouth!). His eyes lit up when he realized he was doing it himself and oh, we were just clapping and shrieking in excitement. It was such a simple moment that we shared but it was awesome. Matthew is learning new things every day it seems and its all so exciting.

Matthew is such a funny little boy and he knows it. He cracks me up daily and the kid can't even talk yet. Sometimes when I'm just sitting on the couch, just lounging and hanging out, he'll come up to me, pull up my shirt and do a raspberry on my belly. It's so funny and so random and I just love it. And he cracks up when he does it. It's hilarious. What else does he do? He loves to be chased down the hallway, especially by daddy. And the neat thing is that he'll provoke us to chase him. He'll run down the hallway a bit, turn around and laugh and head back towards us, stop and run away again, laughing hysterically. When he does that, you have no choice, you've got to growl at him, get down on your knees and chase after him. Oh the squeals of laughter that erupt from his tiny belly. He is such a treasure.

It's been fun watching him become a person. Discovering his likes and dislikes. I often wonder what kind of a child he'll become. Right now he loves playing with his blocks and trains and dancing to The Wiggles. One day he may become enamored with dinosaurs or cars or all things sports. Heck he may decide he loves to dress up and play with babies (he does love Riley's dolls). I wonder if he'll be shy or outgoing, if he'll prefer to play outside and make forts, or if he'll want to stay inside and read. Will his imagination run wild or will he be more reserved? Will he remain Mr. Cling, attached to my legs or will he decide that he doesn't need Mommy all the time?

I can't wait to see how he eventually becomes but in the meantime I'm truly enjoying the little changes that he's undergoing as he learns new things. He brings our entire family such refreshment. He is good for our souls. He makes us all laugh together and we have all been seeing life through the eyes of a toddler and its been amazing.

I love my Punky boy! I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings with him as a member of our family.

Love - Day 2

Ahh, what to talk about today? Love... again. It's the 6th of February and already I'm slacking on the monthly blog challenge. I really need to step it up a bit. So my love topic today? Should it be Jason, Riley, Matthew? Nah, I'll leave them for later in the month. Today we'll chat about my well-known love and addiction to Turkey Hill Iced Tea.
I live in Lancaster County, home of the best Iced Tea on the planet. For those of you not familiar with the area, Turkey Hill is a local dairy that produces milk, ice-cream and iced teas. They also have mini-markets on every other corner throughout the county, much like a 7-11, so that the local addicts can always run in and get their daily fix of tea anytime of the day or night. There is something in this stuff, and I don't know what it is, but Turkey Hill has an entire county completely addicted to it. It's horrible but oh so good!!

I don't remember exactly when I became an addict. My mom can't drink it and when we were growing up we always had homemade sun-tea in the house. That was the only tea mom would drink. So even though I was growing up in the middle of Turkey Hill country, I wasn't really exposed to it much. I do remember as a child stopping at TH with my dad when we'd go fishing and picking up a carton (at that time it was those little cardboard cartons that the tea was sold in). But it was one of those once in a blue moon kind of experiences.

I'm thinking that the addiction must have begun in highschool (1992-1994). I would pack my lunch but would buy a carton of tea almost every day (for only 55 cents - today that same amount cost $1.19!). At the time, there weren't a whole lot of drink choices at lunch - milk, chocolate milk, TH tea, or orange juice.

So slowly, but surely, I was getting my daily fix. I must have been a full-blown addict by the summer after graduation. I was accepted into a local state university that was only an hour away. However, Turkey Hill hadn't enlarged their market that far yet. My highschool friend, Steve, and I were attending the same college and made a pact with one another that anytime one of us went home for a visit we had to bring back a gallon or two of tea for the other. I'd also have my parents bring me my tea whenever they came to my school for a visit.

It's so funny to think about that. This was 1994 and I was begging my friends and family to hook me up with my drug of choice. In 1996-1997 when I moved back home and attended another university, I was in hog heaven so to speak. I was drinking the tea constantly. I had a new baby and I went to school full time and worked part-time. I needed the caffeine in the tea to keep me awake and focused on my schoolwork and my responsibilities as a new mom.

And so I continued to hit up my local drug dealer and get my fix. It started off slowly. A pint here a half galloon there. Oooh a sale! Gotta bring home three gallons 'cause its the same price as 2! Next thing you know, I was going through gallons of tea a week. FOR YEARS!!

I've tried to kick the habit several times over the past 15 years. I'd be successful for a week or two but then I got right back on the wagon. But when I go without, I have horrible migraines. I can't sleep, I can't focus, I become irritable. I've tried substituting the tea for sodas or for other brands of iced tea. But its not just the caffeine that my body craves. Its the sweetness, the flavor, the smell. Its the Turkey Hill experience! LOL! I just need it.

When I was pregnant with Matthew, I quit cold-turkey. I went through horrible withdrawal for several weeks. I was drinking lots of water. Having an occasional soda here and there. I was doing pretty well. I think I went without for about 4 or 6 weeks. And then, as in true addict fashion, I bought a 16 oz bottle. Just to taste it. I knew I was strong enough to handle it. Ohh that first bottle was honestly the BEST tea I had ever had in my entire life. It was pure heaven, nectar from the gods. I resisted again for a few days, and then took a bite of the forbidden apple again after walking into a Turkey Hill and buying one more small container. It's just one. I can handle one every couple of days. Again, I drank the nectar and my body got all warm and gooey inside. This was awesome!!

A few days later I returned to the store. This time I bought a 20 oz. container. The next day I did the same thing. Okay so 2 20 oz containers in one week. No big deal. The following week it was just a half gallon. I'd make it last three or four days. After that it was a gallon of tea in my fridge. Nowadays there's usually 1 half empty gallon and a full gallon of tea in my fridge. I go through a gallon every other day usually. Not as bad as it had been in the past, but nothing to really brag about.

I've decided that I'm not going to try to give it up again anytime soon. I need my tea. My family needs me to have my tea otherwise they have to deal with a miserable, irritable, migraine-ridden bear of a mother and wife. It's just better this way. There are worse things I could be addicted too...

Love Challenge - Day 1

I'm going to go down the expected route with this blog entry. My first love topic? My oldest child, Austin. He was the very first person in my life who captured my whole heart. He's the one who taught me how to be a mother, one of my proudest accomplishments. He has had such a huge impact on the kind of person that I've become.

Before Austin arrived in my life, I was your typical young adult. I was in my sophomore year of college, not really having much of a direction with my life (after being told by my Chem prof the previous year that I'd never make it as a dr, but I've already posted about that!). I had decided that I was going to drop out of college and get a job as a nanny. I can't even believe that is something I even considered! I would have been miserable I can tell you that much. I've done in-home daycare off and on for the past 5 years and I hate it. But anyway back to sophomore year. Like I said, I didn't have much focus or direction. I was just kind of walking through life. I was a good student and wasn't much into the party scene. I had had my partying days during freshman year. However in February of 1996 I was persuaded by several friends to attend a fraternity party. There was lots of alcohol involved, and I ran into one of the brothers who was in my sociology class. You can put two and two together.

Two weeks later I found out that I was pregnant. Oh my God! How could that happen to me? ME? I wasn't that type of girl. I wasn't one to just have one-night stands. I had been a virgin up til the year before. I was a good girl. And there I was, 19 and pregnant to a guy I didn't know and who wanted nothing to do with me or our child. He tried to talk me into having an abortion or giving the child up for adoption. He told me that it was irresponsible to keep the baby and that if I did I would be ruining three lives -- his, mine, and our child's. I told him that WE had been irresponsible when we slept together and that the only way to learn from our mistake was to take responsibility for our actions. Getting rid of the pregnancy wouldn't teach us anything. That would be irresponsible.

And so the journey of single-parenthood began for me. I had a purpose. I had a focus. I had a drive and a determination. My parents allowed me to move back home at the end of that semester under the condition that I would go to the local university full-time and work 24 hrs a week during the school year. I fell madly in love with Austin before he was ever born. He was all I thought about. He was the reason I did everything I did. He came first in my life.

Austin and I didn't have it easy. I worked really hard for everything that we had and did. I gave him everything that I could and went without so that he didn't. He made sacrifices easy. He made everything worthwhile. And fortunately, when he was only two, I found the love of my life, Jason, who would accept Austin as his own son. We are so very blessed.

He's a great kid. He just turned 12 in October and its hard to believe that I am the mother of sixth grader. He's an excellent student. Gets all A's and B's. Has been in advanced math for several years. He's athletic, funny, caring, sweet, ambitious, determined, strong-willed, and loving. The middle school girls all swoon over him and his friends' parents think he's wonderful and always well-mannered. But Austin isn't perfect by any means. I'm not blinded by my love for him. He gives me attitude and back-talk. He instigates fights with his sister and just down-right lazy when it comes to chores. He's moody and rolls his eyes at me and Jason. But overall he's just a wonderful kid and I look forward to continuing to guide him on his path through life and help mold him into the man he is to become.

I'm privileged to be his mother and I don't take that responsibility lightly. He is one of my greatest accomplishments and he taught me first how to unconditionally love another human being.

Love you Squirrel!!! *SMOOCH* (now stop rolling your eyes at your mother and go load the dishwasher!)

Blog Challenge -- Take Two

So I failed miserably last month. I had a good start, the momentum was there, and then all of a sudden I got a Charley-Horse, couldn't catch my breath, stopped to take a sip of water and wipe the sweat off my brow, and before you knew it, I was out of the race. But I'm not one to just roll over and give up so easy. I'll just dust myself off and hop back on the horse.

Traci is hosting this month's challenge again. And our mission, if we so choose to take it, is to blog all about love. Doesn't have to be that sappy, romantic, "the Notebook" type of love. It's encompassing all types of love. I think I can do this! But if I fail, that's okay. There's 9 more months of the year left. The good thing is, I'm actually blogging and that's what I always wanted to do.

Here are the rules: Since Valentine's Day is Feb 14th, I'm asking you to post 14 posts this month all about Love. They can be about someone you love, a place you love, a love that you've lost, your first love, Valentine's crafts, romantic meals, a loving relationship that you've always admired... the list goes on. This is an easy one ladies, it's only 14 posts. It doesn't matter to me how you space them, but I would think that every other day would be the easiest. Because it's such a low requirement, I'm holding you to the 14. If you need to, then pre-schedule your posts, etc., but make sure you get all 14 in! And don't forget to check in on the other bloggers playing along, some of the posts you find will be truly inspiring.

Beauty Day 13

I miss my son, Ian, terribly. The ache and the pain is still so real after over seven years. Today is the anniversary of his due date. Seven years!! My baby boy should be a first grader. I should be planning a birthday party at the bowling alley or the skating rink. I should be wrapping the latest video game he so desperately wanted, or a bike without training wheels, or a new basketball. He should be learning to read and excited about losing a tooth. He should be playing with legos and looking forward to trying out for spring baseball or soccer. He should be here. He should be 14 months younger than Riley. He should...he should...he should.

But he's not. And he never will be. He's gone and that's all there is to that. No amount of begging or pleading to God will bring him back to me. I know that. Trust me, I've tried. I've spent hours upon hours pleading for God to return him to me. To have one more chance to kiss his tiny head. I've begged for the chance to watch him take a breath. To hear him giggle. To wipe a tear from his eye. To sing and rock him to sleep. I want to be able to take him into my arms and never let him go. But I can't. And I have to learn to live with that, no matter how hard it is or how much it hurts. I need to keep on keepin' on.

So what is the beauty that I find in a day that is so sad and hurts me so much? Oh there is so much beauty. So much to be thankful for. And I need to remind myself of that. Of how blessed I am. Of how thankful I am. Where do I even start? What is the gift that Ian and God has given me? How can I be so thankful when I have lost so much?

Losing Ian was the worst thing that has ever happened in my life. The worst. And yet, in so many ways, it was the best thing that has ever happened to me. Seems very contradictary doesn't it? You're probably thinking I must be crazy. What is so great about losing your baby?

So let me just tell you. First off, losing Ian brought me to God. How incredible is that?! What a gift! Prior to losing Ian, I didn't know God. When Ian died, I was angry. Oh I was so angry. How could such a so-called loving God take a baby from a family that wanted him so much? I hated Him for doing that to me. Hated him. As the weeks and months passed, I was sitting in my darkest of dark days, feeling alone and helpless, feeling as though my world was falling apart, separated from my husband and heading towards divorce. My pain was too heavy for me to carry alone. The thought of my son laying in a cold grave, never for me to see him again, made me seek out this God of Comfort that so many people told me about. I began to read my Bible. I began to pray. I began to see that this God had made so many promises to me. That He was holding a place for Ian. That one day I would be reunited with him. He showed me that I was blessed to be the mother of a son that knew only pure love for his entire life. That he was taken from my womb and carried into the arms of God, never knowing pain. My son was chosen for this! He had learned everything that he needed to learn about life in such a short amount of time, never having ever seen the sunlight or felt the wind on his cheeks. I was the lucky one because it was my son who was special enough for this.

Climbing out of my grief and despair, with the help of God, allowed me to renew and strengthen my relationship with my husband as well. We are stronger than we ever were. We are happier than we ever were, and I can't say that would hold true had we not gone through what we did by losing Ian. His death also threw me into membership into the Club. The club that no one wants to be a part of, but that every member is so thankful for knowing that there are others out there that understand the gamut of feelings we go through. I never knew anyone who had a loss prior to my loss. Losing Ian changed the woman I am, the compassion I feel. I have made some wonderful friends through this grief journey. I know that I have also helped a few others just by sharing my story about Ian. What a wonderful legacy Ian has left.

Finally, it is because of Ian that I am the mother of Matthew. Ah, Matthew John, the newest light in our lives. My little Punky, Chunkamunka, and Punkster McMunkster. After Ian's death, I prayed and prayed for another baby. I needed that other baby. And God made me wait. Five long, heartache-filled years. But I know now that I needed that time to grow and learn and to heal. And when the time was right, as God always knows the right time, I became pregnant with my miracle boy. The boy who put us through so much just to safely get him here safely. The boy who had two major surgeries before he turned 6 months old. The boy who had medical issue after medical issue and who is now, by the grace of God, the healthiest little man. Matthew makes our lives so much more full, so much happier, so much more tired (that boy is busy busy busy and never stops!). Matthew is exactly who we needed as a family to recover from our loss and to complete the Halters. He's perfect for us. Perfect.

But he wouldn't be here if Ian was here. How do you live with that? I yearn for Ian. I miss him so much and I want him back. I'd give anything to have him here. But if he was here with us, Matthew wouldn't. I'd give anything, but would I give up Matthew for Ian? How do you choose? The baby that you have grieved for for 7 years or the new child in your life who is only 18 months? The good thing is I don't get to choose! God has made the choice. I get Matthew. I get to pour all the love I have for Ian onto Matthew. I get to watch him sleep. I get to kiss his head. I get to hear him giggle. I get to wipe his tears. I get to rock him and sing him to sleep. I get to!

And one day, God willing, I'll plan Matthew's 7th birthday party. I'll wrap that video game up for him. I'll hear him read his first book and I'll get to see his big toothless smile. I'll take him to baseball tryouts. I'll do all the things that I wanted to do with Ian, and Ian will be right there with us, tucked safely in my heart. Matthew is a lucky boy. And I'm an even luckier mommy.

Beauty Day 12

Knowing my limitations and being able to admit them.

So here it is. I can't blog every day. Or at least not yet. I can't keep up with this challenge. I went from no blogging whatsoever to trying to blog daily for this challenge and it is just too much for me right now.

And that's OKAY. I shouldn't feel stressed about getting this blogged every.single.day. No big deal. I'll blog as often as I can and take a rest if I don't feel like blogging. No biggie. I'm not being graded on this challenge. It's not like I get paid for how often I blog. This blog is for me (and whoever is out there and wants to read this) and I shouldn't feel like I HAVE to do anything.

So there's the beauty for today. I am not superwoman. I don't want to be superwoman. I'll write when inspired and when I have the time. And that's it.

Ahh... I feel so much better!

Beauty Day 9

What is beautiful around me right now? Contentment. Satisfaction. Peace and quiet. The dishwasher is running. The kids are asleep. Jason is downstairs finishing up a video game. I'm sitting here at the computer for a few minutes and thinking "ya know, life is pretty okay right now". I'm happy. I've got a great husband. Three beautiful healthy wonderful kids. A nice home. The bills are paid. Things are good today. And that makes for a happy mom and wife.

Beauty Day 8

Organization!!

Not what most people have in mind when they think of beauty, but really, it truly is a beautiful thing. I'm not great at organizing. Well that's not entirely true. I organize in my own way which Jason says is ridiculous. It's Meg-anized which Jason sees as just a bunch of piles that don't make any sense -- to HIM. But usually I can find what it is that I'm looking for. I always have good intentions when it comes to organization. I buy the organizers, figure out how I want to do things, start the project and then BAM! Something else catches my attention or I just get tired of it, which leaves me half organized on a lot of things. Going back to finish the organization is a daunting task, and I tried to do anything but go back to it. Which just leaves even more that needs to be organized. And so the vicious cycle is created and repeated.

About three years ago I raided my parents' house and took all of their photos. Over 40 years worth of photos! Crazy of me, huh? But they were a mess at mom and dad's house. There was no organization to them. And my mom doesn't really scrap. So they would never be put in any sort of scrapbook album. I wanted to be able to make albums for them, so that one day, when they are no longer here, I can have them back for my children and future generations. So I grabbed the huge box of photos and started a rough sort. Basically I sorted them by decade and threw them in gallon sized ziploc bags and threw them back in the box. And there they sat. In a box by decades for a year.

Later, I grabbed the 70s and skipped to 1976 (when I was born) and started organizing the photos. I created Volume I of my childhood album 1976-1979. And then I puttered out. I got busy with other projects. I had a baby and had to work on his album and keep his photos organized.

So the photos that I took three years ago from mom and dad were partially organized (okay okay 3 years were organized and scrapped) and the remainder 37 years worth of photos were in ziplocs. In November I started to read Stacy Julian's "Photo Freedom" and decided that I wanted to begin my own Library of Memories. Great aspiration, Meg, but did you remember that you're not great about organization and in order to accomplish such a task you need to organize!! Luckily for me, I've scrapped all of our family photos up until 2008 since Austin was born in 1996. So I've got 11 years worth of photos in albums already and 2008 is on the computer, organized by month. I'm ahead of the game, right? Umm, no, 'cause I'd like to use some of my photos from my childhood.

Last night I decided to bite the bullet and begin the organization process of the photos from my parents. I grabbed the two full bags of 1980s photos. I took 5x7 index cards and wrote on the top of each card the season and year, from Winter 1979/80 until Winter 1989/90. I covered my 6 foot scrapping table with the cards and then began the sort. 90% of the photos have been sorted. Mom is coming over tomorrow to help me with a few stragglers that I can't seem to figure out when they were taken. I started putting the photos in Pioneer 3-Up albums and its been so awesome to see the progress. It has also brought back such great memories of my childhood. I've found a few photos of me that are spitting images of Riley and Matthew. I've already planned out a few pages I want to make in the near future.

I'm feeling inspired and relieved all at once. The great part is once the 80s are finished, I only have 4 years of photos to organize that will get me through to my high school graduation. I've already scrapped my senior year as well as my college years and then in 1996 my son was born. And like I said, everything from 1996 until December 2007 is scrapped! I see light at the end of the tunnel and it just makes me feel so good!

Beauty Day 7

I hate winter. I've always hated winter. I hate to be cold. I hate to drive in snow and ice and freezing rain. I hate that the days are short and that there is never enough sunlight. I hate that everything is brown and dead around me. I long for spring and summer.

However, despite how much I hate winter (and I mean I really really hate it), I am able to find beauty in it. Yesterday we had freezing rain all day. I noticed that the bushes were covered in ice so I threw on my coat and grabbed my new camera (a Nikon D40 which I LOVE) and decided to capture some of the beauty amid all the dreariness of January in Central PA. I captured what I believe to be a beautiful picture. I love the way the ice looks around the branches and how there is just a bit of red showing among all the brown.

The purpose of this month's blog challenge was to find beauty around us, which I think is necessary for me during the winter months. I'm one of those people that lose all energy in the winter. I have no motivation. I veg out just longing for the warmer days. Its necessary for me to see that there is beauty surrounding me.

Beauty Day 6

Gotta post something. But today it's going to be short and sweet. Beauty for today is going to bed before 11 pm. Woohoo! For the past several weeks I've been having problems getting myself off the couch (or computer) to go to bed before 1 a.m. Today? Today I'm exhausted. It's finally catching up to me. All those days of running on only 5 hours of sleep have come to attack me and take.me.out.

I can't keep my eyes open any longer. So today, at 10:18 p.m., I'm signing off this computer and crawling into my bed so that I may actually get 8 hours (or more if my husband is sweet enought to get up with Punky tomorrow morning).

Meg needs her beauty rest. Trust me, I really really do. So tomorrow I'll be refreshed and beautiful and ready to start my day on the right foot!

Beauty Day 5

Have you seen pictures of my daughter Riley? She just turned 8 in November. The girl is beautiful - inside and out. She's very outgoing. Very thoughtful. She cares about other people. She's a great help with Matthew - always the doting and loving big sister. She wants to please people and wants them to be happy. Not to say that Riley doesn't have her moments when I'd like to string her up and hang her from the ceiling fan by her toenails. 'Cause there's a few times like that every day. She can talk your ears off. She bounces nonstop. The girl cannot sit still. She can get mouthy and throw temper tantrums and has already begun having those little pre-adolescent mood swings. But overall, she's just a good, sweet, beautiful girl.

She just didn't start out that way. Riley was an ugly newborn. Uhhhh-ggggly! Ugly ugly. That's horrible to say but its true. Good thing for you all, I don't have any of her newborn photos scanned. You're welcome. But really she was not an attractive baby. She had a big bald head, a teeny-tiny little nose (a nose way too small for her face), huge ears that stuck out of the sides of her head (that would be her dad's genes to be blamed for that), and these blue eyes that were the size of half dollars and took up most of her face. She also had a red stork's bite on the back of her neckas well as on on her forehead that became very prominent when she was screaming bloody murder because she was hungry or wet.

But as she grew, she grew into that big head of hers. Her eyes are still huge and a very prominent feature on her face. But they're beautiful and perfect. Her nose is tiny but it fits her. The ears? Well her hair is long enough to cover them most of the time and they seem to lay flatter against her head than they did when she was younger. She's tall and lean. She's going to be stunning as a teenager and young woman.

Jason has already purchased the shotgun and its hanging prominently on the the living room wall. We're also looking into permanently locking her into her bedroom until she's 40.

Beauty Day 4

I'm really enjoying these blog challenges. It's making me think outside of the box and I am recording thoughts that I wouldn't typically write about. I can post about how beautiful a flower or my daughter or a sunset at the beach is but there's so much beauty in all of the little things that is going on in my life too. So today I posted a picture of Matthew laying on the floor last month. Doesn't look all that beautiful huh? The carpet is grungy looking, the jammie-jams he's wearing are too small on him, the blanket isn't one of his favorites and his paci is upside down in his mouth. To the normal person, beautiful it is not.

However, let me tell you what is beautiful about this picture. It can't be seen in the picture. It's something only I would know. This picture is taken an hour and a half after Matthew woke up that morning. What's so significant about that? Matthew has himself on a schedule. He runs like clockwork. Now the schedule isn't perfect. He doesn't always wake up at the same time every morning. He varies between waking up anywhere between 6:30 am and 8 am (though yesterday my baby boy slept in until 9 which would have been awesome for me if I hadn't had to get up early to watch Dominik). The clockwork comes in starting from the time he wakes up. Without fail, that boy is ready for his morning nap EXACTLY an hour and a half after he wakes up. This morning he got up at 8 am. At 9:30 he fussed, grabbed his blankie and paci and told me it was time (without using any words). It never fails. He's playing and is happy and that internal clock of his his strikes after 90 minutes and BAM! "Night-night time. GET ME TO BED NOW!!"

The same thing happens for him at night. Between 6 and 6:30 the clock strikes again and you better get that boy into his jammie-jams and throw him into bed. I love it. He's a wonderful sleeper. I've been blessed with three kiddos who loved to sleep as infants and toddlers. We've never had any issues with bedtimes or naps for any of them. Riley was still taking an afternoon nap until she was almost 6 years old! I'm thinking that Matthew may follow in his big sister's footsteps.

Naptimes, sleep, internal clocks. It's a beautiful thing.

Beauty Day 3

Ok so I'm running a bit behind on this post for Day 3. I had it started but yesterday didn't pan out exactly the way I wanted it to and before you knew it the day was over. I babysat Dominik for the day and usually he's a pretty quiet, calm kiddo. Yesterday was not so. He screamed from 11:30 until his mom picked him up at 3:30. It made for a long day. A day where I didn't get to spend much time on the computer. And then it was dinner time. After dinner, I helped Riley clean out and organize her room. That was quite the challenge and we still have more to tackle tonight. Yea me. Okay so on to Beauty Day number 3...

Our front and back yard in the spring. Look at how green and beautiful it is. We just bought this house in July and honestly it was the yards that hoooked us on this home. We have an acre of land and we're in a wooded area. We're only 4 miles from the center of town but it feels like we're living in the middle of nowhere. It's awesome.

Today its cold and blah outside. The leaves are all gone. The trees are bare. Everything is dead. I long for the days of spring and summer again. Life is around us. Everything smells good. The animals are stirring. The plants are blossoming. We can open our windows and air out the 3 months of stale winter air that we have been breathing.

I can't wait until Matthew can run and play in his back yard. We've got little bikes and ride on toys for him. His grandma bought him a water and sand table for Christmas. He's going to have so much fun and it'll be a blast to watch him explore his new world.

It's January right now. Only about 4 more months until it's warm enough to play outside without a coat. I can't wait!! In the meantime I'll just look at the pictures of my beautiful green yard and hope for the days to pass quickly.

Beauty Day 2

Ask just about anyone and they'll tell you that there is nothing more beautiful than new life. And every mother will tell you that their child is the most beautiful. And of course they are right. However, I have to tell you that these pictures of me with Matthew just minutes after his birth truly reflect beauty. I felt love and pure joy after the birth of Austin and Riley, however, the feelings of relief and gratitude in addition to that love and joy that I felt after Matthew safely arrived is unparalleled. These pictures warm my heart and bring me back to the first time I held my beautiful, healthy, living son, Matthew.

Matthew and I had a rough start from almost the moment we found out we were expecting him. We had had two losses prior to his pregnancy, one being the stillbirth of baby Ian back in 2001. After losing Ian, we had 5 years of infertility. I had prayed daily for five years for another baby. A few weeks after we knew of Matthew's pregnancy, I began to bleed. I had episodes throughout his pregnancy of bleeding, abruptions, pre-term contractions. I spent 5 weeks on hospital bedrest. I was given Magnesium Sulfate and Procardia to keep Matthew from coming too early. We had a few scares. And yet, Matthew thrived.

In the middle of July 2007, I began to have more and more placental abruptions. My doctors were torn between keeping Matthew on the inside to bake a little more or bring him into this world with the chance of having medical issues due to his prematurity. But the more and more that I bled, the more and more the doctors came to realize that we had to take our chances and that Matthew would most likely do better to be born early than to risk the chance of another stillbirth due to abruption.

It was so scary. Yes, I was tired of the bedrest. I missed Austin and Riley and Jason. I missed my own bed. Me being in the hospital put a lot of stress on our family and our friends who were helping to take care of the kids. I wanted to be selfish and say "Just get the baby out" but truth be told, I'd rather lay upside down on my head for 5 months if it meant that I would have a healthy baby in the end.

On July 18, 2007, at 36 weeks along, my doctors decided to start the induction of my labor. The first day went slow. They gave me cervadil to soften my cervix and then let me sleep overnight. The "real" induction began on the 19th with pitocin. At a little past 11 pm I began to push. At 11:26, Matthew John entered this world. He was silent and I held my breath. Flashbacks of Ian's birth came to me. The silence after delivery. The pain of knowing my baby wasn't alive. Knowing all the memories we wouldn't be able to share together. No birthday parties, no first Christmases, no first steps, first days of kindergarten, no smiles or hugs or kisses. I began to tear up a bit, reliving all of that pain. I couldn't survive burying another child. I knew I wasn't strong enough.

And then I heard him. Oh the sound of that first cry. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard because it meant that we didn't have a repeat of Ian's birth. I began to sob, uncontrollably. The pain of losing Ian combined with the pure joy of having another chance with another son. It was like I literally opened the floodgates and all that emotion just poured out of me. I couldn't control the emotions. I thanked God over and over again for my little miracle. For giving me another baby. For allowing me to once again shower pure, unconditional love on another human being.

January Monthly Blog Challenge - Day 1

Traci posted a new blog challenge on Scrapshare. I figured that today was as good a day as any to jump on in. Here's the rules for the challenge: The Challenge for January will be a Search for Beauty. This beauty can be a combination of both inner or outer beauty and will include a photo contest too. The rules are as follows:

Part 1: Blog daily about the people/places/things you find beauty in. A post can be a tribute to a special person that is or was beautiful to you. Or a post about something beautiful in the world around us. It could even include a beautiful plate of cookies that you bake, or a drawing hanging on your fridge. The challenge will run from January 3rd - January 31

Part 2: Post 3 pictures each week showcasing beauty. I'm not going to give you weekly categories this month because I want you to feel free to snap and post photos as you search for beauty.

I can do this! So let's go!

Beauty - Day 1

My son and my father. Everytime I see the two of them together I get warm fuzzies inside. Austin and his "Guh" have a very special relationship. I was 20 and single when Austin was born and my parents took me in and allowed us to live with them until Austin turned 3. Austin's biological father had nothing to do with him. My dad became Austin's substitute dad.

My dad always wanted a son. He only had two daughters. So when Austin was born, there wasn't a prouder moment for my father. And just to add icing to the cake, I gave Austin my dad's first name as his middle name as well as my father's last name. My dad was the last male in his family so the line would have ended with him since he had two daughters. Now the name continues with my oldest son.

I'm so thankful for the three years that we spent living with my parents. No, it wasn't always easy. But the greatest thing was that my dad and my son had the chance to form an incredibly strong, incredibly special relationship. They are best buddies. My dad adores Austin and has all kinds of special things set aside to give to Austin when he eventually passes away.

They have special names for each other. When Austin was a baby he couldn't say Grandpa. So he called him Guh. The name stuck. Everyone calls him Guh and Dad loves to tell everyone that Guh spells Hug backwards! Aww! Dad calls Austin, Cheese. It's so funny to hear him say "What's up Cheese?" or "See ya later, Cheese".

My dad has great relationships with my other two children. He adores them. He loves them both very much. But it's different from the relationship he has with Austin. Austin is very blessed to have such a relationship. I was never close to any of my grandparents. I hope that my dad will remain a part of Austin's life throughout his adolescence and into his adult years.

The relationship between a grandfather and a grandson. Is there anything more beautiful?