A Fox Remembered (2/4/56 - 2/26/2009)

3 years ago today, my father was taken from this earth unexpectedly at the age of 53. That day will hold vivid memories for the rest of my days. I was heartbroken, shocked, and in complete disbelief. I don't wish to recount the events of that day. I wish to forget, although the memories are dormant in the back of my mind, sometimes peeking to my thoughts. Instead, I would like to share with you all who my father was.

My father had a difficult life. Some of these difficulties were not in his control, others were. His father died at a young age. That, combined with other clumps of dust he had always kept under the rug, motivated him to drink, a lot. He spent many years drinking in excess, making it impossible for him to be a good father and husband. My parents separated after nearly 15 years of marriage, and I refused to see him, and hardly spoke to him for the next couple of years. Even when I was no longer on strike, I kept my father at an emotional distance. We fought a lot, and I constantly threatened to disappear from his life forever.

One day when I was 19 years old, everything changed. I was living in Phoenix, and my father was planning to pass through along with my brother for a vacation in California. He wanted to visit me for the day. We hadn't seen each other in almost 2 years, although we spoke over the phone once a week. Part of me was looking forward to his visit. At the same time, I was expecting arguments, him treating me like a 12 year old, and drinking. None of that happened. He was outgoing, sober, and treated me like an adult. We even had some very personal conversation, and I was sad to see him go. I hugged him goodbye, I hadn't hugged him voluntarily in many years.

From that moment on, we talked on the phone daily. He was still living in California, so we only saw each other once or twice a year, but we became very close. I was finally daddy's little girl, I always wanted that. I could confide in him, tell him I loved him, and share my hopes and dreams with him.

Christmas of 2008 was the last time I saw my father. He came to Arizona for Christmas. It was the best Christmas of my life. He and my mom laughed and enjoyed each other's company for the first time in years, which touched my heart. My dad hardly drank during his visit, and when he did he enjoyed a single beer and not a drop more. My dad gave my brother and I thoughtful gifts, and he completely doted on my brother's new girlfriend. When he left, I had never been more sad to see him go in my entire life.

I suppose most people in my position would be very angry. My father and I spent many years sharing a broken relationship, and after only a few years of having what I always dreamed, it was ripped away from me. I am not angry, I feel completely grateful. Yes, I only had a good relationship with my father for a few years. Yes, I wish every day of my life that I would have been able to have many more years like that. Yes, it breaks my heart knowing that my beautiful son will never meet his grandfather. But I will not be angry, I just won't. When I think about him, I smile. He loved me, he loved my brother. Hell, he still loved my mother after all the years of not even being with her. The love I felt from him when he was alive has never faded. I feel it stronger than I have ever felt it.

He was far from perfect, but he was also completely amazing. There were at least a couple hundred people at his funeral. Every single pew in the church was filled, and there were many people standing in the back. Every one of them loved my father, and mourned the loss of his life. I had never realized until that day how many lives he touched besides my own and those of his close friends. That day, I gained an enormous amount of respect for my father, and my love for him grew much stronger.

If I had a moment to sit with my father face to face, there would be many things I would wish to tell him.  What I would say, is that I thank God that he was my father, and that I forgive him completely for everything that he spent many years feeling guilt over. I would tell him I love him, and promise to fill my son's life with stories about his grandfather.

On the night of February 25th, my father fell asleep a happy man. He passed in his slumber, holding on to the love of his children, and the new found love for his life.

I love you dad. One day I will see you again.

Baby String Bikinis: Cute or Creepy?

Yesterday some friends and fellow mothers got on topic of a trend I find to be very disturbing; baby string bikinis. I'm not talking about the cute two piece bathing suits available for baby girls. I'm talking the itty bitty, held together by strings, barely covering anything, very adult like bikinis available in size NB and up. Now, a lot of people know that I am not a terribly conservative person. I'm the last person that's going to overreact over the shirt formerly available at JCP that said, "I'm too pretty to do my homework so my brother does it for me". I also absolutely adore baby tutus, hair fancies, tights, little Mary Janes, the whole nine. Anything that makes a baby girl ten times cuter than she is naturally, I am all for. But baby string bikinis? Not only are they NOT cute, but they are just down right creepy.

Does this look adorable to you? It doesn't to me. This picture was taken off the "model gallery" section of the Babikini website. I initially didn't want to post a picture of a baby in one of these bikinis on this blog, because I think it's extremely inappropriate to have a baby, or any child under the age of 18 in something so skimpy. But I honestly didn't think the baby bikini was such a big thing, until I saw the pictures featured on the website.

What really gets me, is the "about us" section of the website. They claim that the making of these bathing suits started out as "gag gifts". How does something that start out as a "gag", turn into Lord knows how many parents buying these for their little ones, and allowing them to wear them in public? When you read the "rave reviews", none of the reviews are from actual customers. They are all reviews by different stores that talk about how fast they sell. It's a joke.

The section of the website that upsets me the most is the "model gallery" section. Besides the one picture I chose to share, there are 8 other pictures of babies and little girls wearing their "babikini". Why would any parent be okay with a picture of their vulnerable baby in such a tiny bathing suit on a website that any pervert in the world can access? When I Googled "babikini", it shocked me how many pictures came up of babies sporting their bikinis. It makes me wonder, how many pedophiles do you think have these pictures saved onto their computers and phones? But I'm not going to go on a tangent about parents that are handing out free child porn via Google, that is an entirely different subject that I really do not wish to dive into at the moment.

All in all, I am far from being considered a prude. But at what point are parents going to be able to tell the difference between cute, and too far? Two piece bathing suits for babies? Absolutely cute. String bikinis for babies? Absolutely creepy.

It's like Christmas all over again.

A lot of people that know me well, know one thing about what I am like during the Christmas season; I have low impulse control when purchasing gifts for my immediate family. Growing up, money was always very tight around the holidays, so we focused the most on a good meal and togetherness, the true spirit of Christmas. So when I purchase gifts, I usually go a little overboard. I get so excited and pumped up, and I usually end up spending a liiiiittle too much money.

The Monkey is turning 1 in a little more than 2 weeks. It is Christmas all over again. I never imagined I would be so excited to plan a Birthday party, and I didn't think it would be so exciting either. For two months I vigorously surfed the web, looking for ideas on the perfect theme for my little man's big day. Once I decided on a dinosaur theme, I pinned the shit out of pinatas, party banners, cupcake toppers, presents, birthday suits, party favors, anything and everything that would make his party awesome. For the last two weeks, I have been purchasing said items. I was first aiming to not go ape shit crazy. This idea quickly went into my mental garbage can.

I have probably spent around $300 so far preparing for his party, and I still have to purchase food for the bbq, and his presents. People keep explaining to me that Kylan won't remember his first Birthday. Well, no shit. I know that. I clearly don't remember my own first Birthday. But just because he won't remember, or really even understand anything about the entire party except for the cake, doesn't mean I don't have the strong desire to make this party fan-fucking-tastic. March 9th is the day I gave birth to my first child. I want to celebrate this past year with a joyous party. And I want to spend unnecessary amounts of money doing it. Sue me.

An apology to Carter.

I am a member of a large online community and website for parents and parenting called Babycenter.com. On that website, I am a member of a public group called, "March 2011 Birth Club". Every woman from here to Timbuktu that registered on this website with a due date in March was put in this group. In that group, even among the hundreds of active users, there is a "Marchie" that none of us will forget. To hear that name 50 years from now will make me think of him.

He will be a year old next month, just like my baby. He has spent the great majority of his new life battling cancer. Now he has had 50% of a large brain tumor removed. To put more salt on his suffering parents' wounds, they have been informed he has tumors wrapped around his tiny little spine. Just to type the words are heart wrenching..... he will most likely pass away by his first Birthday.

I suppose the right thing for me to do is say that I hope this woman finds the strength to pull through this, and that one day she can move forward and possibly continue with a happy life. I just can't say those things. I am so angry for this woman. There are a lot of unfair things in this world that can be dealt with. Babies fighting for their life, and it ending before their first Birthday is something I  just can't deal with. There is no good reason this should ever happen to anyone.

This story breaks my heart. It also makes me very thankful. I have a very healthy child, and I sleep peacefully every night because of that. I can't even begin to fathom how I would make it through such tragedy. I am sick to my stomach at the thought of it. If this situation were my own, the only thing I would be thankful for is the fact that Kylan was my only child, and I would soon put a bullet in my head after it was over. I simply just couldn't go on.

To all of you reading this, please send your prayers to this baby and his family. 

My Blogging Declaration.

Dear world,

I have decidedly reached a point in my life where having a blog became a great idea. I love writing, social networking, and airing my dirty laundry for the whole online world to see. That last part was a joke.... or not. If you follow this blog, you will soon find out.

So I suppose I should now share with my hypothetical(I say hypothetical because as I write this, no person in the world knows this blog even exists) blogging audience a little about who I am as a functioning(or not) member of society.

I am a lot of things, but the most important aspect of my life is that I am a mom. Almost one year ago a team of doctors and surgical nurses laid me on a table, removed some of my innards, cut an opening in my uterus, and pulled out an adorable, 6 pound baby boy. Since then my life has been full of an equal amount of joy and exhaustion.

I work from home for a living. This means that while I am on the business phone and computer, I am also desperately attempting to make sure things don't get broken by my adorable little beast. The phone cord gets yanked, my papers get pulled on, and steam comes roaring from my ears on busy days as I try to speak with customers and referee the monkey. But being a single mom, this job works great for me. I make enough money to support myself and my son, and I get to stay at home with him. What more can a single mom ask for?

My son is an expert at crawling, and once you notice him eye-balling the Wii remote control that is across the room and low enough for him to snag it, he is there in three seconds. He crawls like someone lit a fire under his chunky butt. One thing nobody warns you about when your baby starts crawling is how it reflects your cleanliness. I sweep and mop daily. I mop so vigorously that any day I will be comparable to Popeye the Sailorman(minus the bulging eye). My son has knees that are dirtier than a cheap lady of the night. I hate it. Several times a day I take a diaper wipe to his knees, and clean those chunky joints as best I can.

It is very likely I will talk mostly about two things in this blog; my life as a mom, and stupid people. My life as a mom is what I enjoy most in this world, and stupid people is what I enjoy least in this world. Have an awesome day, and stay tuned for many ramblings to come!