Grapes, Apples and Bananas, oh my!

My God. You are wreaking havoc on my life.

But in a good way. :)

As I said when I found out, I wish I could take it back. Now I'm glad I can't.

I've embraced the fact that I have a small pouch. A small pouch that no one will notice. People will only notice that I've "gained weight" - in what's really water retention, bloating, and you.

So let me go through all the terrible things you are putting me through.

1) Morning sickness isn't just morning sickness. It's momentary sickness. One moment, I will be fine. The other moment, I'm not so sure. It comes and goes and it's horrible when it comes, but I'm oh-so-thankful when it goes!!1
2) My diet has been thrown into high gear. I can no longer eat crap, like I tried doing last Sunday night. That threw me (and you) into a tailspin of nausea that I was positive would end me up with my head in the toilet. But alas, I survived and after spending Monday in bed, felt good enough to get up.
3) My clothes are getting tighter. I'm having a hard time getting into my jeans - they fit all over except for the stomach. I can button the button, but it's uncomfortable and quite frankly, I'd prefer not too b/c it's more comfortable that way.
4) I wake up in the middle of the night. Every night. Mainly to pee.

But with each one of these things comes something wonderful... you. Each time I feel sick, it's a reminder that you're here. I am thankful you are forcing me to eat more healthily. My clothes are getting tighter, but it'll be exciting to be a cute pregnant woman. And I wake up in the middle of the night, not only to pee, but because I'm so excited for you to get here.

And we have 33 long weeks to go.

But no worries. You'll be here soon enough. And we can't wait.

"As soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was going to happen." -Winnie the Pooh

An adventure is right. I only found out a few nights ago that I was pregnant, but it's been a whirlwind already!

I was on a business trip and having strange cramps. I thought for sure I was getting my period, but every time I ran to the bathroom, there was nothing there.

Your dad and I had decided that it was time to try for Baby E #1. We were scared and skeptical and it was kind of crazy even thinking about it, but we were both in a good place (besides the fact that your father broke his hand and had surgery on August 11, the day before we were "supposed" to start trying to conceive...) mentally, emotionally and hopefully financially.

So we tried and I didn't expect much. My best friend (who you will meet and grow to love through the years, I'm sure) and her husband have been trying for quite some time, and following a miscarriage, have been unsuccessful. I thought for sure we would be trying for at least a couple of months.

I was pretty excited about it more for the shock factor. You'll probably figure out, as your mother, I like to throw curve balls. It's always fun to catch people off guard, but your father had other ideas. As soon as we both agreed we were ready for you to be in our lives, he told everyone he came into contact with. It could have been the pain pills he was on when he broke his hand, but he told your Grandma and Grandpa Engels, a bunch of his friends and really everyone including the mailman (not really, but you get the idea.)

So I don't think it was any surprise when we went to a get-together with a bunch of our friends (who already have children...some have 2...) and I wasn't drinking (you'll also realize, as your mother, that I like my wine). No one said anything to me, so obviously, the shock factor won't be there. I guess it might with a few people, as I haven't told everyone I know yet... unless your father has.

ANYWAY - I came home that Thursday night (the 1st of September) and was curious. I had bought pregnancy tests in hopes of you, and had taken two already, but both were negative. Although over the course of 24 hours, one turned to positive, which your dad let me know about over the phone. I told him it was a fluke and he seemed very disappointed.

As I was driving home that Thursday night I remember talking on the phone to your dad, telling him about these weird cramps and I didn't know if it was my period coming or maybe we were pregnant. I remember him saying in this high-pitched, overly-exaggerated voice, "Oh my Gawd, we're PREGNANT!" I have to tell you, your dad has wanted you for quite a while. So he seemed pretty excited at the possibility, but I knew he didn't want to get his hopes up.

So I got home Thursday night and screwed around on the computer. I remember being so incredibly tired, so I decided about 11:15 to go up to bed. I thought I might as well take a pregnancy test, just to see. I told your dad earlier that I might take one, but I don't think he remembered as I went up to bed.

So I took a home pregnancy test, carefully laid it on the bathroom counter, ran water in the sink to wash my face, changed into my pajamas, then went back to the bathroom to wash my face - all this time forgetting about the pregnancy test because I expected it to come out negative. The cramps I was having HAD to just be period cramps, right?

But as I walked into the bathroom, grabbed the face wash from the shower behind the sink, I remembered the pregnancy test. I turned around much faster and there it was - two blue lines. And "as soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was going to happen."

I remember thinking (pardon my language) "Holy shit." I just looked at myself in the mirror, my mind going much faster than a million miles a minute (like it normally does, right?). I wasn't sure if I needed to call up Eric, or just wait to surprise him when he came upstairs. I washed my face, thinking about everything that was about to change in our lives. I was going to get fat. Selfish, I know, but I've always been proud of keeping myself looking good, and I don't want to get fat. I kept thinking about how badly I wanted to tell my dad, your Grandpa, who I am so sorry you won't ever have the absolutely blessing to know. He was an amazing person. I kept thinking of how I would want to surprise people by telling them - not really HOW to surprise them, just that I couldn't wait to actually surprise them.

I turned off the water, dried off my face, and listened to your dad turn off the TV, walk around locking doors and windows. Then turning off the lights. Then walking upstairs. I just stood at the bathroom sink, looking in the mirror at my face, looking for signs of being pregnant. Did I look any different?

Your dad came upstairs, walked past the bathroom and while he did, looked at me and said something. For God's sake, I had been tearing up, so my eyes were red-rimmed and I looked panicked. At least, to myself I did...but your dad doesn't really notice those things. He walked into our bedroom, turned on the TV, walked around looking for something. All the while, I'm peeking out the doorway, looking at him, waiting for him to turn around and look at me so he can at least read my face!

I grabbed the test, held myself and the test halfway out the doorway and waited patiently for him to notice me. He didn't. So I finally said, "Eric." He turned, looked at me, looked at my hand holding the test and said, "Oh my God. Oh my God!" Your dad was so excited...he's been waiting for this for so long.

And the first thing I could say was: "I want to take it back." Your dad laughed to himself, but in that one second, I wasn't prepared for it. Saying we would like to be pregnant and then actually being pregnant are two different things. All I could think of, being the negative one in this relationship, were all the negative things that come along with being pregnant. Getting fat, being uncomfortable and not getting to wear my cute clothes that I own for one.

Your dad replied with, "You want to take it back?!" That's when I explained it - but it was such a shock to me. I didn't know how I was supposed to react to the news. Then I told him I wish my dad were here so I could tell him. And you're wise old dad said, "He knows." And he's right - in all of this, my dad is the first person that knew and knew probably before we did. And I know he couldn't be more happy for us. :)

So then your dad and I couldn't get to sleep and couldn't get to sleep, even though we were both exhausted. But, we did and when I took another pregnancy test in the morning, it confirmed everything we thought.

You're here. And we couldn't be more excited.

The first chapter to the rest of my life...

A lot has happened - mainly, I got a new job. HALLELUJAH! It was definitely fate...or my dad...who had a hand in it. My boss seems really awesome, my duties will still be working with kids, and I'll still be feeding that educator in me. I'm excited, but I'm apprehensive. And who could blame me? Look at the situations I've been thrown into in the last four years.

So I'm excited about this new chapter. It will be hard, it will be exciting, it will be stressful and it will be fun. But this is the first chapter to the rest of my life. We'll see how the book ends up.

I've been thinking of my dad a lot lately...then again, when don't I think about my dad? I wonder what he's thinking. I wonder what sign he'll show me that it will be ok. The sky last night while Eric and I were fishing was spectacular. The a beautiful sunset, dark clouds and a rainbow. It was gorgeous and I'm glad I was able to see it as I'm supposed to see it. Simply sun, clouds and a rainbow. Maybe sometimes I look for more in that, but really, it's nice to enjoy things simply.

So for right now, especially since I'm not prepping for next year, I'll just enjoy the simple things. It's nice to know I've got a new direction to go in.

So dad, what do you think about that? I'll be waiting for the answer.

And that is dying...

I went to visit a friend whose wife had passed away and remembering how nice everyone was when my dad passed away, I got him a card and gift card, even though it's been a couple months.

So he sent me a thank you, and inside was a story, typed and printed out on a piece of paper...

"I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.

I stand and watch her until at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and the sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says, 'There, she is gone!'

'Gone from where?'

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to beat her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me. not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says, 'She is gone,' there are other eyes watching her coming and other voices ready to take up the glad shout 'Here she comes!'

And that is dying..."

God and Grandpa Tom Heal the World

My nephew "drew" a picture on the computer that he name "God and Grandpa Tom Heal the World." It's too adorable for words, but it made me really miss my dad. He always did make everything better.

He always told us to eat our meat because it would put hair on our chest. I always told him I didn't want hair on my chest! But it would make me giggle all the same. He always made me laugh at horrible family gatherings when I refused to have fun - and what do you know, they're not so bad anymore (although I always miss him terribly whenever I see any of my extended family). He always tried to make things more fun, happier, more exciting. The night my grandma died, he gave me a beer. I wasn't old enough yet, but he was having one, so he probably thought I needed one too. I didn't have a beer the night he died, I just had a heart broken open so wide I'm surprised it's begun to heal.

But it has begun to heal. Because my dad, even though he's not here, has made his death better for all of us. He's healed us in a way that I didn't know was possible. I am able to remember things that weren't so important back then, but now I will never forget. He has made my life better because of his death. I don't take things for granted, I try to spend more time with family. Conversations and time spent with people are so very fragile that I try to take in the little things, like every second I'm with them.

So in a way, he has healed the world. My world. And my world has healed from the devastation his death wreaked. It's an interesting circle, isn't it?

Waste not new tears on old grief...

What a whirlwind of a few days I have had. And I can't even think that you might have had something to do with it.

One of my students committed suicide early Sunday morning. Since then, I have been overwhelmed with emotion, new and old. So this quote seems so appropriate. But I'm not sure what tears are new and what are old. In fact, I'm having trouble just deciphering what I might even be crying about.

Losing students at Southeast Polk was hard. It was harder than I could imagine because I saw all these students hurting. Time and time again.

This time, I'm at Waukee and the cycle is continuing, at least in my life. Another student dies, more students mourn and everyone learns to eventually move on, changed forever by events out of our control.

And here I am, spearheading a lot of the grieving process. Understanding what the students are going through simply because I have seen it so many times. So maybe there is a reason that you chose Waukee. Maybe you foresaw this coming and knew I would be the one that would help my students get through - especially since it directly affected a lot of MY students. This wasn't someone who knew someone who knew someone in one of my classes. This time, it was a student in my class. It was a person I knew, grew to love and will miss a lot. He was a great kid, but had a lot of things going on. It is hard, it hurts and I grieve for the loss of my student, and the loss my students will endure.

Since the beginning of the suicides at Southeast Polk, through your death and through this one, I have learned so many life lessons and I can't help but think this is another one. A major one, possibly as major as the one I learned when you died.

I am here to help students. This is the way I will get back to myself as a teacher. This is the way I will get back to myself as a person. This is where I am going to find my purpose and although I'm grieving, I am also motivated, determined, and willing to make the school's response to tragedy faster, better, more delicate.

So I can't help but think you have something to do with it.

Someone left me a note on my window today. A tiny piece of paper that reads, "You inspire me." Taped to the outside of my window. It was the first thing I saw when I sat down at my desk this morning, and it was more than a blow to my chest. I inspire someone. I used to inspire hundreds at Southeast Polk. Why can't I do it here?

I can't help but think...

It's times like these I miss you, but so thankful for the things you taught me in the wake of your death.

Dear Dad

I miss you every day of my life. I miss you when I drive to work in the morning. I miss you when I drive home. I miss you when I had a really good day teaching. I miss you when I had a bad day teaching. I miss you when I'm in Lowe's with Eric, I miss you when I pull into the driveway back home, I miss you when I'm planning our remodeling with Eric. I miss you when I am about to go to sleep, I miss you when I wake up. I miss you when I'm working, I miss you when I'm relaxing, I miss you every time I walk by the hutch you made us in the dining room.

My heart hurts every time I see a picture of you - especially pictures of you that were taken right before you died. My heart hurts every time I think of all the things I'm doing in my life without you. My heart hurts every time I laugh about something you might have done, or said. My heart hurts every time I think about having children. My heart hurts when I'm getting together with friends, just like you and mom used to do. My heart hurts to know you're not here to watch me "grow up."

I smile each time I think of the stupid things you made me do, and everything I learned from it. I smile each time Eric makes me laugh when he says something that might as well have come from your mouth. I smile each time I'm reminded what a great guy you were. I smile when I realize I had 26 wonderful years with you as my dad. And I'll have so many more, but you just won't be here.

I miss you every day of my life. But I thank you for each of those days as well, for you made me who I am.