Memory of daddy: The birth of Lola

If you know me, you know I have an issue with my memory. I have trouble remembering yesterday all the way to my youth. So this, is to document what I do remember...

I remember giving birth to Lola, and I remember calling my dad to tell him about her arrival. He didn't come that night, he didnt want to run into my mom, but he did come the next day. Jim had left to get a little rest, shower and bring me a few things. Ange was not there, Mom was not there. I was alone, with lola, and I was so tired. I was emotional. Sad that no one was there. Daddy walked in. I was so relieved. (I wish I would have told him that.) It was just me him and our new Lola. Reminded me of when he was there when I delivered Giselle. The difference.... He was in the delivery room for Giselle.
But not Lola. Per my request.
Daddy held her. He saw I was tired. He saw I needed help. He recognized I needed him. He took her. He sat on the over-sized chair they call a couch-bed. He told me to sleep. He told me "you rest, take a nap baby, I've got her." I rested. Couldn't really sleep. I was in pain, ecstatic he was there, excited about my new child, and worried he was fucked up all the same time.
Nevertheless, all was well. I closed my eyes for about an hour. Listened to her sweet sound and daddy soothing her. Feeling the pain in my neck and the warmth of the heating pad the nurse was so kind to give me.
He didnt stay long. He needed to pick up the kids from school. I understood. He saw I was in pain. He asked how long it had been since I had pain meds. I told him, "To long, but I have to wait 6 hours." He quickly offered two vicoden and a soma. While I thought, "that is a good combo at a time I need to make milk" but I just said thank you, pretended to take them and thanked him for coming.
He came to check on me twice at home with in two weeks. Once alone and once with Flor and the kids. I wanted him to stay longer. I wanted him there more. I wanted more visitors. And he knew that. But I wanted just him. Not Flor, not his new kids. Just my daddy. Selfish, I know, but that is what I needed.

That's it. My memory. I want to keep them fresh. I want to remember them. even if they were his worst days.

Lola's Teachings

Things We are working on with Lola and her teachings...

We are trying to get her to sleep through the night. Day one. Score. Day two. Fail. Day three. Success. So we will see what tonight brings. Details in another separate blog.

Vocabulary. We are working with her all day with simple words. Commands. Animal sounds, and so on. She understands most common commands we use with her. It is exciting when she vocalizes something new. We show her enormous praise when there is a new revelation.

Individual play. Lola has come a LONG way with individual play. She was and always has been very attached to me. I don't know if this has anything to do with my "baby wearing" or not. I could care less if it did. I just know she didn't do well if I left the room. Or even left the floor to sit on the couch. She now is gradually able to play and explore for about 5-15 minutes alone. (with me directly near by, duh)

Table manners. Lola and I sit for breakfast and lunch together and then dinner with daddy and sissy at our big family dinner table every day. This is the way a family should eat. We are trying to teach her good eating habits. We want her to be an exploitative eater. I feel we are doing a great job thus far. We eat from scratch most of the time. She loves things such as, mushrooms, tomatoes, broccoli, celery, onions, carrots, hummus, chips, but not avocado. Ha... I don't know why. We are trying to teach her not to throw her food or her drink on the floor. I think this is going well.

More to come. ......
What is on my extended list.. Social skills, more vocabulary skills , and learning while in the moment.

Yes, shut up. I am an OCD parent with a plan.

Alternate Endings and A Last Conversation

I have been thinking about my dad a lot lately. I just checked his email. There were none of importance. Noone that might have written him, not knowing he was dead. No one just sending one for their own cathartic release. Just junk mail. It makes me feel guilt. It makes me feel lonely for him. I feel regret for not sharing more of my recent life with him. While he consistently asked me to spend more time, give more effort and be closer to him and his family. I think of how alone he really was. I wonder how often he spoke to people other than his household or his mother. I wonder how often he thought of me, or my children, or my ridiculous young adult mistakes that he was so disapproving of.

I remember my last conversation with him. I needed some one to watch Lola so that I could join in on a field trip with Giselle's class. Daddy had asked me months prior, in tears, to call him for help, to spend more time with him and to put him closer to my heart. So I did. (this was two weeks to the day that he went to the hospital)The conversation was short. He picked up, I asked about the children. The school year had just began. He shared with me that Angel had been having issues with discipline and the girls were adjusting well. This was Lea's first year in pre-K. He sounded ill. I asked him about this. He said the family was just getting over the FLU. They were all often sick with something. I asked what his plans were for the following day. He said he was going to get an MRI for his back. He had been complaining of pain since his auto accident in June. I never told him the reason I called. I think maybe if I did it would have given him a little warming in his heart. That I had thought of him again to call on for help. But I will not ever know about that. I then ended the conversation, like I always did, with suggestions of us getting together. (however due to my own issues, I really just never followed through)

Some time before this, Daddy watched Lola so I could run up to Giselle's school for a parent-teacher conference. It went well.This was his first time in years he had been with either of my children unsupervised. There were not any issues, unless you view him holding her in one arm and smoking in the other. I had major apprehensions letting my dad watch her unsupervised.

My issues included:
His alcohol intake
His smoking
His demeanor towards life in general. (which manifested in to a loud & vulgar tone, and abusiveness)

I wanted to tell him these things. I remember conversations with my sister on one of my emotional days feeling powerful and brave.

"I am going to tell him these things. I think if I do I will feel better. And maybe it will open his eyes. Maybe he will then understand."

I never told him.
What If I had? Would it have changed anything? Would is had angered him? Would he had not spoken with me in a while? Would he have taken it to heart, opened his eyes? Would he had said that he would refrain from smoking in from of her? That he would drink less, get help? Would he have taken a step backward and looked at the way he was treating and talking to Flor and his children. Would he stop yelling?

Goddamnit. I am so angry that you cant go back in life. That we don't have a rewind button on life. No "deleted scenes" or "alternate endings" like on a DVD.

The death of my father.

It has beet a while..

First it was my birthday, then it was busy times at school and home, then it was the death of my father, then it was the holidays. I am sorry to have left you for so long. But I can tell you, I am more than happy to begin again. So here we are. things have changed a bit since we have blogged. I have turned 28, and I became a girl with out a father.

I guess you could say i am just a widowed daughter, or a child who's father died. Im not really sure the terminology. What I can tell you is that I have a wonderful family.

Here is your brief update. My father died. He ultimately died of pneumonia/respiratory failure. In other words, DEPRESSION and the fact that when you are sad and can not get over it you will one day die of an unhappy heart. That is what happened to my father. Some time in 1998, things changed in his life. The love of his life left him. He just was unable to get over this and went down a spiral demise from this time forward.

So, today I can say, my dad died. He is dead. I can not bring him back to my life. And I HATE the idea and thought of DIVORCE. Even if you can be the most mature individuate you can be. This will suck for your kids.

I will write more about how I feel about my dad and his life that is not here anymore. But at this point, I am more sad than when I began. So I will begin another day. Love you all.

Jennifer


In dedication of my father.

1800Flowers Online Coupons

Good Riddance Summer

There is something evil or for better words, transformative of summer time. is that a word?

Giselle was a great little sister before school let out. She some what ignored the fact she had a sister. When summer break began, it was an entire new ball park. 24 hours a day with sissy might have been a little too much. Something changed. Giselle began to need for me to "watch me, watch me" for every little insignificant movement she made. Don't get me wrong. She is an amaizinglysmartbeautifulcreativethoughtfulinovativeintuitive little girl. I adore her. And she is my lovely. I also will preface that, humbly, I admit I looked down on the mothers that begged for summer to be over due to the fact they were tired of their kids. I used to think "You fucking bitches, summer is the time to play and spend non-stop with your child. Why would you hate summer?" But I must say, I understand you now. And..... I am sorry for judging you. Let me explain. I LOVE spending any time with Giselle AND Lola Bean. However, this summer had a new effect on the first born than I have ever seen. She became needy of time, attention, exciting emotion, praise and anything that falls under that umbrella. I am an aware parent. I did not want Giselle to think she was less important. I paid plenty of attention of Priss to be sure I didn't no favor the "NEW" child.

No matter how hard I worked, it didn't matter. Summer came and FUCKED it all up.

Now school is back. Giselle is back. She has become the Best Sister I could ask for. She ADORES Lola. Now Priss WANTS to help. She plays with her. She watches her. She keeps an eye on her. She is fitting into the Big Sister role that I hoped for. While not compromising her individualism or independence.

Please let me thank Jim, Brandon, Our family, and every one that makes it possible for Giselle to attend this school. I believe this is our ticket to the best education Giselle could get. It is best for her. She loves it. We love it. Maybe one day Lola can excel with it.

what sleep schedule?

back to our old sleep schedule. luckily we dont have to stroll her to sleep like she does. but i would not say what we have is much better. at least she has her bed. she is back to her usual. sleep by 8. wake with in an hour or two. refuse to sleep the remainder of the night in anything but my cleavage in OUR bed. it is adorable though. the way she falls asleep these days. she squeezes my tit and pushes on it. just like an animal with their mother. quite sweet and endearing. although i did not mention what she does with her other hand. my inner bicep is layered with small bruises the size of a dime or less.. she fancies pinching and punching the inner area of my upper arm. i used to think it was cute. NOT any more. after nine months. not so much. i would like her to stop. so when the plan was to cut out at least one nursing session. i think we may have added one due to her teething.

if i had it my way, i would be prancing her around all my friends, all jims co-workers, all the people we know. she will gladly add a smile to your face. she is so goofy and quick to attempt to make you laugh. she is way better than your lame-O therapist. i swear.

she is quite the different child. she putseverygoddamnthinginhermouth. she moves so fast that i dont know how she gets from the living room to the bathroom, to the kitchen to pulling up on me while i have a hot pot in hand cooking dinner. she is explorative. if that is a word. i have an issue with memories. as close friends may know. i dont remember all of what giselle was like during this time. it was only 7 years ago. WTF? but, i do remember her knowing what the word no meant. lola does not comprehend it just yet. she just smiles and laughs at me. all the while i think she is saying.... "who me? ha ha ha bull shit, im not going to stop this. it is way too much fun." in her head.

we have so much to look forward to. germs and all.

when do i work?

more scheduling issues. not like before. i know how to handle giselle. husband. lola. willie. bilo. laundry. dinner. dusting. organizing. de-cluttering. facebook time. internet searching. design upkeep. school drop off/pick up. grocery shopping. texting. future planning. reading a fucking book every now and then. dishes. videography. interior design. clothes. dirty floors. plants. grass. showering. eating. working out. giving up the beauty of my tits up to nursing. day dreaming. socializing. family. blogging. photography. but i have one issue. my design business is booming.... when can i work? i have three free times, equaling 30-60 minutes a day for free time. most of which are filled with the above. now, since i have a customer or 10, i have to find time to design. and eventually create my OWN website so my clients can see i am legit and have talent. at what moment in the day do i include theworking/makingmoney/myfuture/mysanity/creativetime? not really sure. guess once i get paid i will use that money for a FUCKING nanny a couple hours once in a while.

on another note, here is my little lafayette to all my trueblood fans.

right?