I need to debrief from my day. It started out fine.......but seemed to go south fast. Ash locked herself in room, this time couldn't pick the lock so I cut myself prying the knob off the door. Then the girls were playing and B knocked Ash down who fell on the edge of a metal bucket and got a 12 inch cut on her back, she did not have shirt on. Finally, at 330pm, A.M is SLEEPING. I'm sitting here w/ her, watching her sleep, trying to pretend the first part of the day didn't kick my butt.
So, the above pic! One of my favorites. I think all new moms look like this, total peace and serenity. It is scary and beautiful having a new baby who relies so much on it's mother for every single need. The biggest need being love! I can only imagine how many times a day she must have kissed me. I know I kiss my girls about 100 times a piece every day and when they were newborns and in my arms all day, my lips stayed glued to their tiny cheeks.
How quickly we forget that we were once someone's someone. We were helpless.
There isn't much "story" to go w/ this picture. I mean, gosh, I don't remember it! I can say this,that yes my biological father was still around. He was actually around until I was about 2. That is a long time. I look at Ashlee and how attached she is to her daddy. If he was suddenly gone, never to be seen again, by his own choice, the girls would be devastated. Yes, due to A's age, she would be the most elastic, but still, it is a horrible thought! I often wonder how baby Candice really felt about her biological father. I only have one person I call Dad, and he is the one who has my heart. Unfortunately, my biological father owns none of my heart. This is the life of an adopted child. When he and my mother divorced, he moved back to Ohio, where they were both from, to be near his family. As long as he was working, he was paying child support to my mother, but apparently they had some agreement that he would not be a part of my life. She met my dad (David V.Z) when I was about 2 and a half. I don't remember them meeting or dating or calling him daddy for the first time. All of this info is info that was given to me when I was old enough to handle it. Actually, I wasn't old enough to handle it. My mom tried to tell me at age five after school one day. She had pics lined up of the bio-dad and just flat out told me the truth. I told her I didn't want to look at the pictures, walked in to the living room where dad was and asked for an oreo. I was over it before she had a chance to make it a thing. I was like 'who cares, daddy is here not in ohio, not in those pictures' From that day forward, she learned quickly never to speak of the phantom father in Ohio. I mean, gosh, too little too late Mother! You want me to care about a stranger? I'm sorry if you are feeling bad about the arrangement, but not my problem! Plus, I was a happy 5 year old. My Dad taught me how to ride a bike, built me my 1st toybox, took me to my 1st girlscout meeting (which I hated and had to beg to never go back that creepy group), picked me up from school. Who was the Dad who taught me about consequences and thus, spankings? Who was the Dad who fixed a broken window I threw a brick through b/c I panicked b/c I didn't have a house key? Who was awake, alert, when Mom was just too ill.
Believe me, I know he is/ was not perfect. It isn't my job to make a list of every bad thing he or my mother ever did. My mom went to her death w/ her guilt. My dad isn't mentally retarded, he knows the ways he messed up, that is for him to deal with. I'm just a 31 year old girl, happy to have him, along w/ the rest of my family who really makes daily life more joyous.
This story took on a life form of it's own. Really, after Mom's divorce w/ sperm father, a whole other life took form- my Grandma Ruth moved in to help us. She became like a second mom. She studied to be a nurse during this time. My mom would watch me during the day when Grandma was at school then when evening came, Mom went to her waitress job at Spaghetti Warehouse and Grandma watched me. She has told me that mornings were sometimes sad b/c she'd fix me breakfast and my mom was still asleep. I'd cry for her not to go. All she could do is put me in front of the t.v w/ my cereal and tell me 'your mommy will be up in a little bit and i'll see you later on'. Of course, being 2, apparently I didn't like hearing that crap. When she would study in the evenings while taking care of me, I'd climb on her lap and push her college books on the floor and throw her pencil across the room' Hmmm starting to sound like Ashlee!
This is a good place to end, Oprah is about to be on :)
