Homemade Spaghetti Sauce

This recipe started years ago with a recipe that my grandmother was given by her maid in Italy while she and my grandfather were stationed there when my father and his twin sister were babies. In the years since she gave it to me, I have loved it, but have made a few changes here and there to suit my own preferences. Keep in mind that I feed 7 people, so you probably want to have a jar or two handy for leftover sauce.

Homemade Spaghetti Sauce

6-8 cloves of garlic, dependant on their size, diced

1 medium onion, diced

12oz tomato paste

28oz Italian Style diced tomatoes

6 cups hot water

3/4 tsp oregano

3 tsp salt

3/4 tsp pepper

3/4 tsp basil

1 1/2 tsp parsley

Note: Because we have several people in the house (including myself) who don't like certain textures, I use a small Ninja to chop my onion, garlic, and diced tomatoes until they are almost pureed.

Saute onion and garlic in a bit of olive oil. Add them, along with all other ingredients, to a pot, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer for at least two hours, stirring occassionally. The longer you allow this to simmer, the better it will taste. I also brown 3lbs of ground beef and add in at the end of cooking to turn this into a meat sauce. We also eat our spaghetti with mushrooms (canned pieces & stems, sauteed in tons of butter with garlic salt) and mozzarella. Even feeding 7, we still have some leftovers, which are normally gone within a couple of days.

Summer Reading

Item #9 on our summer bucket list was to go to the library. The more I thought about it, the more I felt like we should make it a weekly thing to break the monotony of summer. So, I put Keenan and Will in the summer reading program. It's a four week program and this year the theme is Dig Into Reading. Of course, there's the normal reading log and goals, and prizes for whoever reads the most. And then the weekly program focuses on reading - a week about gardens, one about dinosaurs ancient Egypt and mummies, one about animals that live underground, and then one about caves. So, yesterday we went to the library for that... It was Paige's first visit to the library ever. I think she's going to be a book lover too, because she already has one particular book she loves, so I was excited to check out some new board books for her. Will and Keenan got their first library cards. Have I ever mentioned how much Will loves books and learning? He checked out THIRTEEN books, most of them from a non-fiction collection about animals. In typical boy fashion, he checked out one titled "Boobies" (it's about the Booby BIRD, people). Keenan checked out a few short books. He really hates reading, so I'm hoping this summer program and being able to read on his own time instead of having to read what and when the school wants him to will encourage him. I also got to introduce Jake to the world of Stephen King, and Savanna checked out seven books, even though she claims reading is boring and already has three at home that she has to read and write reports on before mid-August. All in all, I would consider it to be a pretty successful library trip!

Your bathroom will never be the same

On the giant list of the things that you should know before deciding to become a parent, there is one very important fact that everyone should know.

Your bathroom will never ever EVER be the same again.

ESPECIALLY if you let your nine year old son dye his hair blue for the summer and then have a momentary lapse in judgement and send him to rinse after the dye job unattended. While there is still blue dye spattered all over the place until I buy a new gallon of bleach and scrub brush, we've discovered that hydrogen peroxide works great for years of build up in grout from previous residents. lol

Of popsicles and water balloons

The kids were so excited last Tuesday when we made popsicles and they had a water balloon fight! We did the Sprite & gummy bears popsicles that were so easy and summery - they had a very tropical taste to them. You just fill the popsicle mold 3/4 with Sprite, drop in gummy bears, add the popsicle stick, and freeze. It was interesting trying to get the kids to stop checking on them long enough for them to freeze, but we all enjoyed them once they were done.

I wasn't sure how many water balloons would actually connect since Jake is the only kid with any real coordination... But, they all came inside soaked and seemed to have plenty of fun. It kept the arguing and boredom comments at bay for an afternoon! 

Summer Things For When All Else Fails..,

With a three month old to care for as well as two nine year old boys, a twelve year old girl, and a fifteen year old boy home for the summer, I know that things are going to get crazy. This is my first summer home A.) since Will was 4, and B.) with more than one kid. So, in order to save my sanity, I'm compiling a list of activity ideas to break the monotony (and maybe keep them from breaking each other). I'm getting a lot of help from Pinterest for this, lol.

I reserve the right to add to this list as I find more ideas! ;)

1. Visit the zoo
2. Water gun fight
3. Water balloon fight
4. Visit the Riverquarium
5. Picnic (Riverfront Park in Albany, park, lake, river, with Mark on his lunch break)
6. Go to the park
7. Walk the trail at the lake
8. Feed the ducks at the lake
9. Go to the library
10. Interview each kid
11. Do photo shoots
12. Make smores/banana boats/etc
13. Roast weinies for dinner
14. Bake cupcakes and let them decorate
15. Set up an ice cream sundae bar
16. Let them play in the waterhose
17. Go to the pool
18. Visit state parks
19. Play board games
20. Learn card games together
21. Get them Twister
22. Play in the rain
23. Blow bubbles
24. Sidewalk chalk
25. Sidewalk chalk paint - recipe here
26. Make bouncy balls
27. Make popsicles - Mango Kiwi Raspberry Pops or Whipped Pineapple Pops or Sprite & Gummy Bears or 100 More
28. Tie Dye something
29. Watch clouds
30. Do a puzzle
31. Play I Spy
32. Watch the stars
33. Discover uses for food coloring
34. Make a Naked Egg
35. Make homemade bubbles
36. Make a target to throw water balloons at
37. Have a glow in the dark bowling tournament (glow sticks in bottles of water)
38. Make jellyfish in bottles
39. Make homemade watercolors and paint
40. Make an Angry Birds game
41. Make no-flour playdough or magic playdough
42. Play sidewalk chalk games
43. Find and make pet rocks
44. Experiment with balloons
45. Make water bottle fountains
46. Make sun tea
47. Have a treasure hunt
48. Paper airplane races
49. Potato stamp art
50. Have a Wii Championship
51. Wash the cars
52. Go see fireworks
53. Play with sparklers
54. Visit a historical site
55. Each pick a country and learn about it - obscure facts!
 56. Make bleach t-shirts
57. Make pinecone bird feeders
58. Make a photo booth
59. Make a time capsule of the summer to open next summer
60. Put together a family joke book
61. Make sponge balls and FIGHT
62. Do marble paintings
63. Go to the Botanical Gardens
64. Do a photo scavenger hunt
65. Watch the sunrise
66. Make bookmarks from pressed flowers/leaves and packing tape
67. Make ice boats
68. Cook a solar powered lunch
69. Mega bubbles!
70. Make lemonade from scratch
71. Go puddle jumping
72. Make a video of everyone making funny faces
73. Make tape word paintings

Ten Things I Don't Hate About Me

My dear friend, Nik, was having a tough day yesterday. Being a SAHM to two little boys under the age of 3 ain't always easy, y'all. She spent her morning struggling, until later in the day, she realized that a bad day with Spenk & Ollie isn't a reflection of her parenting skills. It honestly is JUST a bad day. She realized in that moment that she's good at a lot of things. And I have to agree with her. Paige has a gorgeous cloud mobile and several super cute pairs of baby legwarmers in her room as proof positive! If you need homemade baby legwarmers, custom cloud or moon mobiles, custom pennant banners, or a custom rag quilt, Spenk & Ollie Creations is the place to go, no doubt about it.

Anyway, after Nik listed her ten things, she invited her readers to do the same. I'm always up for a good blog prompt, and the way the past few days have gone, this one certainly appealed to me.

1. Giving birth. Whether it be my son, who weighed 8lbs 14.5oz and was birthed with the assisstance of a "vacuum" and epidural or my tiny 7lb daughter who needed no more help than perineal massage and a couple of doses of Stadol (and okay, some Phenergan for the nausea caused by birthing without an epidural), I did what had to be done. I gave birth to my babies.

2. Ignoring the parenting judgement. I know that around here, the things I do are not the norm. We live in the south, where people do as their grandparents tell them - meaning a lot raise their children as their grandparents raised their parents. I'm not that person - we do what works for us and damn everyone else. When needed, we co-sleep and we share our room still on the nights we don't share our bed. We babywear, we don't take the doctor's (nurse's/lab tech's) word as golden simply because they're trained in their field. We research and make educated choices. We don't circumcise, we probably won't pierce ears before kindergarten unless we find a local pediatrician who pierces, we cloth diaper (that was the big one that people around here were shocked by). We don't give our baby a pork chop at three months old - though we ARE planning to skip purees entirely and try babyled weaning (which has absolutely nothing to do with breastfeeding). We consider ourselves lucky our daughter sleeps through the night and wouldn't have given her rice cereal to make her. We DO give her rice cereal for her reflux. Etc etc etc. And we don't judge other parents for making different decisions than us.

3. Photography... I'm good at this, not great. I am definitely an amateur and probably always will be. But the photos I take are very precious to me. And hopefully I won't even wind up on You Are Not A Photographer

4. Calming a hurting baby... Becoming good at this comes with the territory of being the mother of a reflux baby. People ask me if Paige is fussy... During the first reflux flare up, oh my stars, yes, she was. For almost two weeks straight. And then I began to realize the positions and techniques that helped her feel better. I know it's luck, not every mother is as lucky to be able to calm their refluxer. I think it has saved my sanity.

5. Patience. On the rare occassion that she is truly inconsolable and screams for hours on end, I can hold her and snuggle her and rock her and sing to her and talk to her. And even if, on the inside, I'm pulling my hair out? All she knows is that I'm loving her.

6. The Sims. This one is amusing. I've been playing since my 17th birthday, so for over 11 years now (shhh). My son would tell you I'm awesome at it, because I've had a family worth over a million dollars with no cheat codes used. I also apparently was good at unintentionally getting him addicted.

7. Making the kids laugh. Whether I'm making funny faces or tickling them or dancing like a fool or singing any words that come to mind to my daughter in a ridiculous tune... ALL of the kids get a kick out of it.

8. Not spending money. Other than all of these stupid bills, I can go a week without spending a dime most of the time if I really, really need to. And when things are really tight, I normally only buy necessities - gas to get to the grocery store and doctor appointments, laundry detergent, dishwashing liquid, dog & cat food, toilet paper...

9. Organizing and downsizing. When I set my mind to something, I can really cut down on the household clutter. Now, finding that motivation to do these things? That's a different story.

10. Cooking. My husband brags on me constantly, and I've even recently been told that my nephew does. My husband won't eat bbq pork from anywhere else anymore, and my nephew bragged about it to his friends. I don't know how you get much easier than cooking a boneless pork shoulder picnic roast in root beer on low in the crock pot all day, draining the root beer, adding bbq sauce (Jack Daniels honey bbq or hickory brown sugar here, thanks), and shredding the meat... But they sure do love it. My husband also brags about my spaghetti a lot - apparently the homemade sauce made with a recipe my grandmother was given while living in Italy was the way to his heart, and the man who hates mushrooms loves the ones I cook to put on the spaghetti. Who knew?

I could probably keep going if Nik had given some number other than ten... Because, I am a pretty talented person, I guess, even if I do feel like a failure when my infant is screaming inconsolably or my son forgets to take a shower or the 12 year old niece I'm raising cops an attitude (for the ten millionth time (in one day (or maybe one hour...))). All in all, despite the struggles, I guess I have this life thing pretty well figured out.

Bittersweet Mother's Day

As Mother's Day approaches, I'm struggling with the fact that I no longer have a mother figure to shower with love. We lost my mom five months ago. Most days I'm okay - content in the knowledge that she is no longer hurting, physically or emotionally. Even though it makes me feel guilty to want her back in this place where she felt so much anguish, there are still days that I want her back. The days leading up to the birth of my first daughter take the cake... This first Mother's Day without her is pulling in a close second. My mother was the kind of mother who gave her daughters Mother's Day cards. She always made sure that there was something for us, that we knew we were loved and appreciated and good Mommas, on the years that our childrens' Daddies weren't around to help our babies celebrate us. She was the kind of woman who picked me flowers the day after my 13th birthday because I was disappointed that I didn't feel older and more mature, who led my Girl Scout troop for years and just shook her head when we ran her undies up a flagpole at a citywide campout, the kind of woman who took two 14 year old girls and their boyfriends to the beach for the day one summer. She was the kind of woman who slapped me across my face when I backtalked her and held me when my heart was broken. She will be forever missed...

My sister, nine years my senior, would be my second choice to celebrate on this day. She spent a lot of time as a single mother, raising her babies alone. She spent a lot of time helping turn me into the woman I am. She was my best friend and my enemy, my teasing sister and my teacher, my confidant and my cheerleader and my coach.

And this is the second year that we celebrate Mother's Day without her...

I struggle this year, because I have a hard time giving myself credit where it's due. But, there's no one left to celebrate this year, except for me.

This year, my son has stayed on the A/B honor roll. He began with the Talented & Gifted program at school and he loves it. He's asked me a million questions, and if I didn't know the answer, he looked it up on Google on his prized Kindle Fire that he begged to have for a year and still cherishes more than six months later. He has become a big brother and he is an amazing one, never showing an ounce of jealousy, only love and concern and compassion for her.

This year, I conceived my daughter, and did everything I knew to grow her safely in my belly. This year, I watched my tiny gummy bear on an ultrasound screen and listened to her heart beat, and I cried. I looked at my tiny little alien being and found out she was a girl, and I cried. With not only my husband, but my son, my nephews, and my niece, I watched a 4D ultrasound on my son's birthday of his baby sister moving around in my womb, and I cried. This year, I proved my strength to myself more than anyone else, as I birthed my daughter without an epidural... And I cried. I looked across the room as they weighed her, saw my sister's foot on my daughter's body sticking up out of the tiny bed... And I cried. My daughter was rehospitalized for jaundice, and I cried and cried. And then I fought a lab tech for my right to hold and comfort her as they took blood, and I was a warrior. She failed to gain weight and I had to give up breastfeeding, and I cried. SHE cried for days on end, completely unlike her, and I took her to her doctor and I was a warrior. I took her to the hospital and fed her a bottle of barium and watched on a screen as her body refluxed it, and I was a warrior. I've been a warrior through medicine changes and new suggestions, and as nothing seems to help my constantly happy little girl with her symptoms, I've remained a warrior... The day after Mother's Day, I will load her up, drive an hour and a half, and see a specialist, and hopefully he will make things better. But I will be a warrior until SOMEONE makes her all better. She is my daughter, and maybe I will be the mother to her that my mother was, and maybe one day she will be that kind of mother too.

This year, three kids without a Mom have begun to bloom from their grief under my watch. They have pulled grades up and taken part in band and JROTC and won awards and learned the value of a dollar and so much more... They have begun to call me Mom and my heart swells and clenches all at once. If I could bring back their real mother, I would, in a split second... But, to know that I have filled even a fraction of her shoes...

I am not the mother who birthed them, but if they HAD to lose her, I am proud to have earned the right to the name.

I have no mother to celebrate this year. Except myself. And this year, I have learned through tears and joys, that I am a mother worth celebrating. So are you, and if you don't know it already... You should learn it over the next year.

Oh, baby, I'm amazed by you

Guess what beautiful little girl started laughing in response to stimuli night before last and trying to imitate Mommy sticking her tongue out and rolling from belly to back yesterday? She'll be two months old on Sunday, she isn't supposed to be rolling over yet! Such a strong, smart girl...

And suddenly, country music makes me cry.

It's been a while since I've written. Everything has been crazy, beautiful, amazing, stressful, and perfect. Six weeks and one day ago, my daughter was born.

On February 7, 2013 at 5:11 PM a beautiful little girl named JamieLynn Paige Beasley joined the world.

Eleven.

Today, I am eleven days or less from holding my daughter in my arms. That is an amazing feeling. I wasn't sure that I would ever have another child, and now I'm two weeks away from bringing a newborn daughter home. I am so grateful. So grateful, in fact, that as tired as I am of being pregnant, Mark and I are already discussing trying for another baby soon after Ms. Paige's birth. I know that Mark doesn't want to wait long if we are having another, because he wants to be able to play with his children and grandchildren, not just watch them play. And I think it makes sense to go for it soon - the sooner we have our babies, the sooner they will be school-age (ugggh) and I can go back to work and contribute monetarily again. So we will  probably just go with no birth control and let what happens happen until Paige is six months to a year old or so, and if we're not pregnant by then, start actively trying. I think that one more after this current miracle growing in my tummy will complete our already large and confusing family. :)

But, back to my Paige. We had an ultrasound at 36 weeks, showing a perfect, healthy baby girl estimated at 6lbs and 6oz and in position for delivery. Friday, at our 37 week appointment, everything looked fantastic again. Healthy heartbeat, belly growing right on track. I'm also already 1cm dilated. We discussed my blood pressure a bit. It's been being higher than I like (after an average of 120/60 for most of this pregnancy, we're suddenly seeing readings between 120/80-140/100 in the last month). Monday night it jumped to 141/92. I managed to get it back down quickly, but it's still making me nervous. We had discussed the possibility of induction at the beginning of the pregnancy, when we discussed Will's birth. He came early at 38 weeks 5 days and was still a whopping 8lbs 14.6oz. The doctor had to use the vacuum because he got stuck, and I believe if he had been even a few ounces larger, I would have had to have a c-section. We can't afford for Mark to be out of work long enough for me to recover properly from a surgery right now, so between that and my blood pressure, when my doctor offered to schedule an induction at 39 weeks 2 days, I accepted. So I have another appointment tomorrow, where we will discuss it further. I hope to find out my Bishop score and see if he would be will to sweep my membranes at the beginning of next week in hopes of an easier induction. But, if Paige does not make her grand entrance into the world by February 7th, we will be going in that morning for an induction.

I honestly don't know that she's going to wait that long! I've been having contractions, cramps, lower back pain, and a ton of pelvic pressure, along with other signs of early labor since Wednesday. But, it comforts me to know that if we do have to induce, she's already preparing, so maybe it won't be such a long process. I'm hoping that if we do induce, she will actually be born the same day we go into the hospital. My active labor with Will was fairly short for a first time mom (somewhere around 8-9 hours). I'm hoping to have a short, fairly easy labor with this little munchkin, too. Time will tell...

It's so hard to explain how I'm feeling, approaching the birth of my second baby, my first born 9 years earlier. I feel like a first time mom all over again, while at the same time, feeling like I've "been there, done that" and I know what to expect. Who am I kidding?! I'm clueless! I'm excited and happy that we'll be bringing her home soon, and at the same time, I'm an absolute nervous wreck! I'm also sad. I was supposed to have all my babies by now, my mom and sister were supposed to have been along for the ride... So, even though I have an amazing, supportive husband... I still feel very alone in this? Even saying that makes me feel like I'm betraying him, because he really is great. But women just want their close female relatives around when they have new babies! I want them to turn to when I need help, I want to share this experience with them. My sister never got a niece. My mom only got one granddaughter. Neither of them got to see Will very much when he was little because his father was military and we lived out of state. I feel like I took that opportunity away from them, and now that I'm home and having a baby, they've been taken from me. And my daughter... Mark has no contact with his family (and they don't seem like the kind of people I would want around my children, anyway). My daughter will never know a grandmother or an aunt or uncle. She will have one grandfather and her cousins in her "extended" family (although, truly we are more of an immediate family than most "normal" immediate families). That's it. I feel terrible that I can't provide her with the loving aunt that Will knew for 8 years, and the amazing grandmother he had for 9. I feel helpless that there's absolutely nothing I can do to change that situation for her. She'll never know what they were like, and that leaves an ache in my chest that will never go away. I know that we'll be all she ever knows, so that will be enough for her, she won't miss people that weren't there... But, it's still hard to come to terms with.

I'm trying not focus on those things though, because this a special, amazing time. I'm going to have a daughter...

Fragile and Precious - How We Got This Far

I am LARGE. I mean, really, really, large. I feel like my body cannot stretch anymore. And so, the last few days, it's really been hitting me. I'm about to give birth to and bring home a tiny, fragile, perfect little being for the second time in my life.

1 Year

RIP Jamie Denise Tharpe 

02.12.1976 - 12.13.2011

It started just over thirteen years ago, this family's pain. I mean, we had felt loss and pain within the family before that, but our immediate family - my parents, my sister, her children, and myself - it really started for us then. Jamie was pregnant with her fourth son. Having had three pregnancies and birthed three healthy boys, no one expected anything to go wrong. But, it did. One day, during a routine ultrasound, the tech's expression changed, and she said, "What a pretty heart, let me get the doctor." And left my sister in the room, knowing that something was very, very wrong. That was the beginning of the spiral, a baby coming with a diagnosis of Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome. Hunter was born on November 27th, 1999, with the best Apgar scores of all of Jamie's children, seemingly healthy. But, because of the ultrasound, we knew, and he was rushed off by life flight to the children's hospital in Birmingham, where my sister and my mother joined him the next morning. He went through two surgeries, and during one, the surgeon tore a hole in his tiny heart, there just was not enough tissue to work with. The hole couldn't be repaired, and my sister made the hardest decision of her life - when Hunter Reed was four days old, on December 1st, 1999, she allowed the doctors to turn off life support, she allowed her son to stop suffering, and she watched him die... Again, I'm brought back to Death Cab for Cutie... "Love is watching someone die." My sister was not the same after that... Only it didn't stop there. We buried our precious Hunter, a beautiful baby boy that only ever opened his eyes long enough to see me, he was too tired and drugged to open them the rest of his little life.

Four months later, we buried Jamie's second son, Tyler.

The Trade: Completed

 
The trade is completed... My Mom is gone. She gave up her fight yesterday, went to be with her daughter, her grandsons, her father, her nephew... I find myself wondering how much pain one family can endure before things begin to come apart at the seams. My mom buried so many people and experienced so many tragedies in her life. It isn't right for one person to go through so much. This is what made me so angry in her last months - she should have had more happiness, or she at least should not have had to experience such a terrible death as she did if she had to experience so much pain in life. How many women in their fifties have had to bury their father, two grandsons, a daughter, and a nephew, among others?

I feel like I have so much to say... But, I can't think of what I want to say. The kids are already back to arguing and fighting. Jake didn't even take the day off of school. He said he couldn't afford to miss it, but I think he just didn't want to sit around the house all day. I can't blame him, it's already driving me a little crazy.

People keep saying they're heartbroken over this... I'm not. That sounds harsh, but the fact is, my heart has been broken over and over again, and last year, it shattered... It never healed. So it couldn't exactly break again while it was already broken still. I feel numb, to an extent. There are so many mixed emotions. Numbness, exhaustion, anger, brokenness, gulit, sadness, relief...

She was hurting so badly. She's not anymore. I don't have to wonder anymore, when her last breaths will be, what her last day on earth will be like for her. Her husband of 38 years kissed her forehead good morning, told her he loved her, laid back down to try and get a few more moments of rest, and listened as she took her last breaths. I'm so thankful that she wasn't alone, and that the voice of a man who loved her, telling her he loved her, was the last thing that she heard. I'm also thankful that he has the closure of knowing that the last words he said to her were the words that everyone hopes to be able to say last to their loved ones, and that everyone hopes to hear last. "But, I'm thinking of what Sarah said - that love is watching someone die." If that's true, my father has proven his love for my mother to me. I wish that everyone could experience a love so selfless and pure in their lifetime. Yes, in thirty-eight years together, they had their hard times. Of course. Every couple does. But, when she really needed him, when it really, truly mattered, he was there for her every step of the way.

Which is more than I can say. I had distanced myself. I wasn't strong enough to watch her die. I know that it might have been different if I wasn't pregnant. I might have been able to do it, but I was so afraid I would stress too much and it would hurt the baby, that I pulled away. I barely went into her room, and if she was asleep, I tried not to wake her. I should have woken her up sometimes, just to tell her that I loved her. I should have gone in there more, to see her and talk to her. She had gotten so bad and it hurt so much. I know that no one blames me. Except me. I know that she knows how much I loved her, how much she meant to me, but that doesn't change the fact that I wish I had done some things differently. I wish I had been stronger. I wish I had been a better daughter. It's not a chance I'm going to get again. I don't think that anyone can lose someone without having regrets. Maybe someone can, but I sure haven't managed it.

Maybe my heart is breaking. How can it feel like it's breaking and like there's nothing left to break all at once?

I'm so relieved that she isn't hurting anymore. And that Jamie didn't have to experience her last months, and didn't have to be here for her death. But, I'm so sad... I wanted this. I wanted her to be done suffering, I didn't want her to have to feel it anymore. It doesn't seem right that something I wanted, something I knew in my heart was the right thing, can be so painful.

The Trade

Please, don't tell me this is a ridiculous thought, because I know that it is. But, sometimes, I feel like I wanted another baby so badly that I unknowingly made this horrible trade-off. I had to give up my sister and have to give up my mom to make room in my life and my heart for a second baby. I know that it's a completely irrational thought, but it's the thought that still keeps coming back to haunt me. In my first marriage, we tried for four years for a second baby, and never had one, and then I moved home and we split up and Mom was diagnosed with cancer. I kept wishing that the guy I was seeing and loved would mature and be ready for a baby, I still wanted one so badly, but knew he was not the one to have one with right then. And then last year, Mark started showing interest in me, even though I was kind of blind to it and Jamie had to tell me. Then we started flirting more and more, but I tried to keep my distance because he was seeing someone, even though I knew the relationship was quickly going south.

And then Jamie died. It'll be a year ago Thursday. And I honestly was not okay, and I attached myself to him - I think it was a combination that she gave me an otherworldly push, and that I knew he loved her if not as much as I did, almost as much, but he was still doing some EMT work at that point and heard the call and went. And as hard as I know it was for him, because she was his best friend after all, he stayed with her the whole time. He helped pull her out of the car and stayed with her until the coroner took her away, and then he came to our house and sat with our family while we told her kids. He was in such shock he couldn't even cry. I hope I never have to see that look on his face again. All the broken hearts I dealt with in those hours, I wasn't even in love with the man yet, but his face is the one that I can't get out of my mind still. Before he went home early that morning to lay in bed and not sleep before work, I clung to him and cried and thanked him for staying with her, because that gesture, knowing that she was not alone with a bunch of strangers, meant - and still means - so much to me. I knew then, but I know even better know, just how much damage that did to his soul. As I hugged him that morning, all bets were off. I knew he was seeing someone, but my resolve was crumbling. When he kept coming around, every single night after work, and sitting with me and the kids for hours, and took me out when I needed to get out and stop thinking for a bit... Well, we spent an awful lot of time together over the next weeks. The girl he was seeing was there for most of it, but we talked a lot too while we were each at work... We had a hurdle to get over before he could get away from her and be with me, and while it really only took a month, it seemed like ages. My heart shattered as he left me every night. Admittedly, we had an inappropriate relationship considering he was still in one, but we didn't even really try to hide it. She wasn't exactly the best kind of person in the first place, so even though I'm typically a guilt-ridden person, I don't have much when it comes to that, because I feel like this is where I should be... If we had worked really hard to go behind her back or something, I might feel guilty. But, pretty much everyone knew about us except her, and I think in her heart, she did too - she just didn't want to admit it to herself.

Anyway, Jamie had wanted Mark and I together, and before he even moved in a month after her death, we knew that we would be married. Every time we were together, her presence was so strong, and we just KNEW this was where we were supposed to be in our lives! In January, he moved in. By Valentine's Day, there was a ring on my finger. By June, two lines on a pregnancy test (with a miraculous due date of Jamie's birthday, only possible because my last period was exactly one day late), and in October, we were married. But, Jamie, who was so excited about her first and only nephew, and loved him so much, and ached for me and with me when I couldn't have that second baby, she isn't here to share in this, her first and only niece. Her best friend and her baby sister, together. God, I thought it was hard to marry him without her there, but the closer we get to this baby girl coming, the more I realize how much harder this is going to be. The thought of the baby shower almost gives me a panic attack. Jamie and our Mom threw me my baby shower for Will. And now Jamie is gone, and never going to come back. And Mom is in the other end of the house, in a hospital bed, sometimes groaning in pain, sometimes talking about things that make no sense, sometimes talking to her dead daughter and father and grandsons, sometimes talking to the monkey that lives just below the ceiling, or the baby that's wandering in the backyard without adult supervision (these are her hallucinations, or maybe we really have a monkey and a baby haunting us along with our family). I'm not even strong enough to go in there and try to talk to her most days.

I'm rambling and I'm not even getting my point across. Again, I KNOW that this is an irrational train of the thought. But, here goes. I don't know that Mark and I would be together if Jamie hadn't given us a little push from the other side, and if I hadn't been pure numb, unable to fear losing a man anymore, because I was prepared to lose my mother, but I lost my sister instead, the one who was supposed to be there when Mom was gone, so we could see each other through that tough time. I had lost my sister and I could no longer remember why I had tried so hard to shelter my heart, how anything could be worse than what I had just experienced, so I let the walls down and I let him in and I fell in love. So I'm not sure we'd be where we are if she was here. And then Mom was doing good - She was supposedly going to be gone around May 2011 (best case scenario with aggressive treatment) but she was doing REALLY good. And then she started going downhill after school let out this past summer and we got our positive pregnancy test, but she was still holding on. Her body was beginning to fail on her, but her mind was still strong. I know she wanted to hold on for Paige's birth, but I think Jamie's death was that last break to her already shattered heart, and Paige's sheer existence in me gave her the belief that when she goes we'll have something to hold us together, like we all did with Savanna after my nephew, Tyler died. After our positive pregnancy test, her health slowly declined, and then our ultrasound showed a growing baby in July, and it picked up the pace a little bit, getting worse just a little bit faster. And then September came, we had our anatomy ultrasound coming up, and she got to the point that she couldn't get into the car for treatments anymore. And then we had the ultrasound, the one that she was supposed to get to go to, and I called her from the parking lot and told her "Mom, you have another stubborn granddaughter coming and everything looks perfect." and her voice broke and I could hear the happy tears caught in her throat, and it was such a fast downward spiral from there. Within a two week period, I went from thinking we could get her to our wedding in Pine Mountain in October, to making cancellations and getting deposits back and looking for a free venue in town, because I wasn't even sure she would still be alive for my wedding, much less at it. Her hallucinations started and I was sure it was only a matter of days. But still, she kept fighting, she's getting worse and worse more quickly, but  it's like every time she hears that the baby is still doing well and we get closer to a healthy delivery, she gets a little closer to dying. I think she's already given up, and I really don't think she'll make it to Paige's birth. But... I've been wrong so many times before. Since her diagnosis in April 2010, and then the horrible test results and 6 month expectancy given that November, there have been so many milestones I haven't expected her to make. So she might prove me wrong. But we've gone from doing so good, to hospice telling us to prepare for the end so quickly, that I don't know if she can do it again.

As a child, I was told that people die so that there's room for new babies in the world. At the time it was meant to comfort me - my grandfather had died, but my first nephew was on the way. It did comfort me then, but also stuck with me. So when I think of the way that in a year's time I've gone from my sister alive and my Mom fighting so hard for her life and being in a relationship that probably wouldn't have been ready for babies until I was well into my thirties, to my sister being gone and my Mom being on the edge of death and being married to an amazing man and pregnant with the daughter I had come to think I would never have... I can't help but feel that my wishing so deeply for another child set this chain of events into action.

I have to get this thought out of my head, because it's eating at me, and because I can never let my beautiful daughter know I feel this way, for fear she'll think I blame her for the loss of her aunt and grandmother. That's not it at all, I have no regrets at all, I believe that this is where I'm supposed to be in my life, that she is supposed to be here for us, and I don't blame her at all or regret or resent her. I love her so much already and I cannot wait to meet her, and I think she's going to be so much like her aunt. She's a gift, and I never want her to feel otherwise. I love this baby with all of my heart. I just miss my sister, and I miss my Mom being my Mom, instead of someone hurting and dying and not herself.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas...

Last year (and pretty much every year for 10 or 12 years beforehand) my sister did all of the Christmas decorating.

And then last year, 12 days before Christmas, my sister died. Needless to say, we were all pretty much numb for the holidays. I went back to work shortly before New Years and couldn't bring myself to take the decorations down. So my mom and my nephew did it one day while I was at work. See... Jamie was BRIGHT. She had some pale green, bronze, and gold ornaments... That went on a light purple tree. That was her tame tree. The tree in the living room? Was white, with a mostly red, hot pink, lime green, and turqouise/aqua-ish ornaments, along with her variety of ornaments that she had bought or been given (glittery cupcakes, a frog prince, two Frosty ornaments, ornaments the kids have made). That tree was fondly called the Dr. Suess tree. So there was a lot of her personality tied up in it. Christmas is just... JAMIE for us. Last year we were numb, this year we're remembering...

Double-Cheese Chili

Double-Cheese Chili Original Recipe

Being as we ARE such a large family (most nights I'm cooking for eight - and a half if you count my little womb-resident) I always have to alter recipes I find to feed a crowd. So I'm going to regularly post recipes on this blog - partially just so I can keep up with how I've modified them in the past! This is the first time I've tried this Double-Cheese Chili, and I'm kind of looking at the recipe and wondered what makes it qualify as "double cheese"? But okay, they call it that, so that's what we'll stick with.

Crisp, New Blog

I've been trying to figure out how to summarize my crazy life for the first entry of a new blog.

And then I realized the only followers I'll have for the first entry, probably, are people who already know me. So trying to summarize the insanity of my life for people who already know all about it is relatively pointless. SO. Instead, I decided just to start with something I wanted to blog about. And I have to say, yesterday is a pretty good thing to blog about. It was a long, crazy, awesome day in these parts.