I Love You Guys

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Penners-Peters
Meet the family from left to right: Lee (doesn’t look sick to me!), Erin (and her cute belt that I totally copied and bought for myself), Mr. Plate (our representation of Steve, who had already left for his baseball tournament), Scott (who ate more chicken salad this weekend then should be allowed by law), Mrs. Plate (Allison, who was probably wishing she was inside the nice air conditioning instead of sitting on the bleachers during a high school baseball game), Me (the craziest of all bananas), Trent (bearded and lovely), Ashley (realizing a baby gets heavy after posing for 5 minutes) and Lucy (whose brain apparently itched…hey, when you got to scratch, you got to scratch!) – Missing is The Great Cindy, Trent’s mom, cooker of chicken salad, enforcer of Lee’s new schedule, and photographer of the family

Thank you for all of the well wishes. The emails and comments have meant so much to me and the whole family. Things are looking exponentially up for my father-in-law and his health. Right now we are waiting a month to see if some medication can close the hole in his heart, meanwhile he’ll be taking a bunch of tests and leading a life that does not involve birthing calves.

Personally, I’m pretty exhausted, not only from lack of sleep, but emotionally as well. It takes quite a toll on a family to hear that a beloved member is sick, then not-so-sick, then super-duper sick, and then maybe only mildy seriously sick. It is enough to make one’s brain bleed out their ears. Or, in my case, to give a person a mean case of pink eye. I woke up this morning with my eye swollen shut and my head pounding. I’m assuming it’s from the stress and amount of crying done in the last week. I can tell I’m totally spent, especially since when Trent cancelled lunch with me today at the last minute, I had to run to the bathroom to keep from bawling in front of co-workers. I guess I can always blame the swollen eye for my tears.

On another note, how do you all feel about eye patches? Too pirate like? Or trendy fashion statement?

Right Now, I’m Not Doing So Hot

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Guilt sucks. The emotion of guilt should be drug out into the street and shot. And people who make you feel guilty when you already feel like crap, those people, should be punched in the nose.

But what do you do when those people are people that you love?

When your daughter falls down at a BBQ and scrapes up her knees and elbows? When she takes a tumble an hour later and skins her forehead a bit? Do you blame yourself for not being there every, single second? Or do you chalk it up to being a child?

I personally, blame childhood, low balance capability, and the giant beachball she insisted on carrying around all day (throws off the balance when you’re under two feet tall). But some people blamed me. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t careful enough. I should have taken her home hours earlier as she was obviously tired and needed to rest. And even though I’m the one who is with her, alone, 85% percent of the time, it can’t be that things are just going to happen when I’m there. Oh no, it seems I will always be the one to blame.

This should be something I can shake off. Move on. Screw ’em, I’m a great mother. But right now, I simultaneously want to punch someone in the face and cry alone in my bed. I make mistakes, yes, it’s true. But I also think that kids hurt themselves. It’s part of life, a very important part that needs to occur in order for kids to learn. She’s gonna fall, she’s gonna bleed, she’s gonna cry. That’s life.

Right? Or am I just the shittiest parent there ever was. Because right now, I can’t decide.

Party Pics

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What happens when you plan a fun, simple picnic at the park to celebrate a two-year-old’s birthday? It rains, duh. And what was supposed to be a small, fun get together turns into a loud, crowded insame asylum. How did this happen? Well, I only invited Lu’s godparents (the famous Heath and ‘Kayla – as Lu calls her) and my sister plus her family. At a park, three seven-year-olds is not a lot. In a teeny, tiny cottage….? Well, it’s a bit overkill. But we still had a fun time, I drank wine and boo-hoo’d a bit over the rain, but no one else seemed to care. Except for Heath, who after viewing the carnage that is four kids in a small space has mentioned rethinking the amount of children he’s like to have. Poor guy looked like he’d been hit over the head with a sledgehammer.

Below are the pics from the “party” and you can also view them here.

Dads and Daughters

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My dad and I are very much alike. We have similar mannerisms, we look like twins, we are both uber-dorks. Growing up, my dad was (as clichéd as it sounds) my hero. He was and still is the smartest person I’ve ever met, and I feel so lucky to have his genes in my body. He is not necessarily a person who will spew on about how much he loves me and how wonderful of a person I am, but I can always tell he’s proud of me and what I’ve done with my life. Even when I’ve made mistakes, and lord, I’ve made quite a few, I always knew he would forgive me and help me move on. My dad is a rock, in the most literal sense of the word, and I wouldn’t be the person I am without him.

When I think about my relationship with my dad, my mind immediately goes to Lu and Trent. I know that no matter what I do, at some point in our lives Lu will despise the thought of me. That’s just how girls are. And she will probably always think of her dad as her own personal superhero. And you know what? I’m okay with that. I hope she always sees him in the driveway and starts yelling, “Daddy! Daddy!” I hope she will always laugh manically when he chases her around the house. I hope they always read books before bedtime and have breakfast together. Because regardless of my relationship with Lu or my relationship with Trent, their relationship should always be strong. Because that’s what superheroes do.

Hating Kansas

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This is my hometown, about 3 hours from where I live now. My dad lives there. My husband’s parents live there. My Not-Pregnant Friend Abbie lives there with her husband and new baby. Many, many of my friends’ families live there.

As far as I know, everyone is OK, but Jesus, this is scary. It damaged many buildings on campus, where my dad lives, and dozens of homes were damaged and/or destroyed. Businesses were crushed. When you grow up in the midwest, you aren’t too afraid of big storms or tornadoes because they happen all the time and usually don’t hurt anyone or anything. But when it does, it shakes your whole self to the core.

[Thanks to Inger for sending me the video link]

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