Why I WILL Call My Pets My "Babies"

I read a blog tonight by a rather 'angry' sounding blogger.  She went on a rant about how people shouldn't call their pets their "babies" and if they do it should be an insult to moms everywhere. (I paraphrased but you can click the link, and go read it for yourself if you'd like).  I was like...what?  What on EARTH is this woman talking about?  Out of all the things in the WORLD that this woman could be upset about (starving kids around the world, kids dying from cancer and other illnesses, homelessness, and I could go on and on).  She chose to whine about how some women call their dogs THEIR BABIES.  (Key word, THEIR dogs, not hers).

 

For SOME people, who are child less, their dog literally IS their baby. 

 
My husband and I tried for a little over a year to get pregnant with our first child.  We were beginning to think it was never ever going to happen.  I had charted every cycle, did every store bought test that shows when you are 'ready to go'. 

 

We just had no luck.  In that time we got a dog.  Buster.  He was the best dog I had ever had.  He was literally like a son to us.  He had his own bed (that he never used because he always slept between my husband and I).  He had his own clothes (the Pet stores were one of my favorite places to shop!!)  He had a life jacket, winter coat, doggy boots, rain coat, and the list could go on.  He had a safety harness to use in the car so he wouldn't get hurt on car trips too. 

 
The dog had it all.  A toy box (that was not small!)  He got spoiled with Christmas presents, and birthday presents too.  He was our only "child" at the time.  He went with us nearly everywhere.  Literally, he was even in our wedding.  Yeeep.  Didn't he look dashing? 

When I got pregnant with our daughter finally, he had to adjust just like a human child would to a baby coming.  He wasn't so sure at first.  He pouted.  He acted out a bit.  But ultimately, that dog guarded my tummy like it was his personal property.  Whatever was growing in there, well that was his to protect and he wasn't letting no one get near his Mommy or his baby sister. 

 

A burglar tried to break into our home one evening (Normally I would have been at work, but all day every day extreme morning sickness was kicking my butt) so I had called in to work because I simply could NOT function and needed to rest.  Which was exactly what I was doing.  No one knew I was home. 

 

The burglar tried coming through the living room window (right next to the desk...which is where the phone happened to be....).  I tried to quietly get out of bed to get to the phone but Buster kept nipping my ankles to keep me in bed, and then he'd run back to the window and bark and growl as ferociously as he could. 

 

It felt like this took an eternity, but it only took a few seconds.  He hit that window HARD (I thought he was going to go THROUGH the window!!)  I hear the guy trying to break in say "Oh SHIT they have a dog, and it's a BIG ONE"  and I heard clambering noises like they were jumping over our wobbly porch railing, which did not go well for them, it broke, and they fell (haha suckers). 

 

I giggled at the thought that they were scared away by a 20lb full blooded American Rat Terrier.  They apparently thought he was a German Shepherd or something, who knows.  He always did think he was a BIG DOG!

 
During my pregnancy with my daughter, I suffered from a leaky heart valve issues, but didn't know it at first.  During my last semester of college, I was in a rush getting ready for a final project and my husband was at work.  I was home alone, just me and Buster.  I had felt woozy in the shower but I managed to make it through.  I got out, got dressed, and was walking through the living room to wait for my friend to show up. 

 

I blacked out.  I hit the ground.  Out.

 

I woke up to Buster licking my face and in between licks barking at our front door.  My friend had arrived and he was alerting her that something was wrong.  By that time I got up and was able to get out the door and *stubbornly and stupidly* enough I continued on with our presentation, and then later that day went to the ER.  Looking back...man, that was stupid.  Should have gone to the ER right away, but my brain was at the time, not functioning so well!

 

When my daughter was finally born, Buster would sit close to her and give her a lick when he thought no one was looking.  He'd rest his head on her.  He'd sleep next to her bassinet.  He'd sleep next to me on the couch when I was nursing.  He didn't leave her side.  When she did tummy time he was right there with her, usually on his tummy trying to encourage her to crawl. 

 

Unfortunately...life is never fair.  We are dealt cards that are beyond our control.  We had to move. 

 

Unfortunately, land lords do not see our pets as family, like we do.  After a month of searching, praying, pleading, begging, bribing....we couldn't find ANYONE in this stupid town that would let us have our human baby AND our furry baby.  We had to make a tough decision. 

 

We let Buster go to someone who we THOUGHT was a good person.  They loved Buster seemingly as much as we did.  Boy, were we wrong.  Unfortunately we had already moved by then, and there was nothing we could do our hands were tied.  I cried and cried and was depressed for a really long time.  That ache never left, because of my dog missing from our lives. 

 

I mean, this dog had been in our WEDDING for crying out loud! He saved me from an intruder! He slept on my gigantic prego tummy, and snuggled next to my newborn.  This wasn't "just some dumb dog"  this was FAMILY.  You can't leave family behind and abandon them. 

 
But we did.  We had no choice. 

 

It was either be homeless with our daughter, but have our dog....or leave our dog in the hands of someone we THOUGHT was good, and move into a home that was available.  It was winter.  We didn't want to lose our daughter because of our love for our dog.  As much as it hurt us to leave him, we did. 

 

At the time, I knew NOTHING about rescue groups, or foster homes for animals.  We didn't have that stuff where I grew up.  Your dog lived chained up, or running free to get hit by tractors or pick up trucks on the farm or to get into fights with coyotes or shot by farmers because the dog got too brave and nosey.  Or you took your dog to the shelter and didn't look back. 

 
NOW?  I wish I would have known THEN what I know NOW.  I wish I would have known the PEOPLE that I know now.  Buster would have been in capable good hands. 

 

Buster has a good ending though. 

 

After being led to believe he was killed.  We were reunited with him years later.  I about died when I saw him.  I KNEW it was my baby! He didn't remember us, it had literally been years since he had seen us, and he was really up there in age. 

 

He had fallen into the hands of dog rescue people in our area, that I volunteer with.  My baby boy was ALIVE.  It was so good to see him.  I KNOW it was him, there is absolutely NO DOUBT in my mind that this dog was ours.  His name, was still Buster.  The markings, were EXACTLY THE SAME (minus a few new scars and boo boo's from along the road).  We had already brought two new dogs into our lives at that time, and our home is full of youth and bouncy chaos filled life, and I knew it wasn't the place for Buster anymore.  He wouldn't have felt comfortable in our home, so the rescue placed him in the wonderful hands (truly wonderful) hands of a new family.  I couldn't be happier for him.  

 

My daughter still loves to hear the stories about her "big brother" and see the photos of him.  She loves how he is in our wedding photos, and in photos with her, and how he was in the 'family' Christmas cards and went on family reunions, and other road trips with her Mom and Dad (and her when she was in my tummy). 

 
We have three dogs in our life right now.  All come from various rescue situations.  Same with our two cats.
 
They are family.  My kids will tell you our pets are family. 

 

The cats may be family that ignores you and does what they please and they NEVER follow rules, and they always cause a raucous...but they just remind me of antsy teenagers. 

 
Molly came along when our boys were just a year old roughly (I honestly can't remember the exact date she came into our lives, but I know the kids were young, and my daughter was two or close to it.  It was after Circus Son #2 had gone through all of his chemo's, and shortly after Circus Son #1 was diagnosed with seizures. 

 

Molly was a godsend to our family.  We had had a couple of other dogs (three actually) during that time BEFORE Molly came to us.  One dog came along (Sydney) right after our sons cancer diagnosis.  She was left with a friend for a day while we went to one of his appointments, and she broke loose and we could never find her.  She was a PRECIOUS and amazing dog.  She would have been perfect for our family.  But we never saw her again.  Our next dog, I took from a person online.  THAT was a nightmare.  This dog had a bad and severe history, that no one told me about until AFTER the fact.  She cornered my daughter and bit her in the face, the bite would have been way worse had I not grabbed her in time and yanked her back from my daughter.  It was an absolutely UNPROVOKED attack.  The shelter was called, immediately.  She had also tried to go after my infant sons, and my husband.  She hated everyone and wanted a piece of anyone she could get near, cept me.  I was the only one she had NO issue with.  It was terrifying.  I had never seen a dog as psycho as she was. 

 
Our next dog was given to us at the WORST possible moment as a gift for my daughter.  It was a tiny little weiner puppy.  Awww yeh I know, how cute.  NO! We were in the throws of my sons cancer treatment, and it was December, and we were all sick, and MISERABLE.  She ate the Christmas lights and everything in her path, she was a holy freaking TERROR.  I did not have the energy or the gumption to deal with this dog.  She went to a little girl who needed her more than we did (that dog is last I knew, perfectly spoiled rotten and doing fantastic). 
 
At that point.  I had had enough of dogs.  Any pet.  I was done.  We were not meant to have a pet.  It was punishment for having to give up Buster. I just knew it.  We were the worst pet parents ever and our kids were never meant to have a dog, and that was ok because we were just going through TOO MUCH to bring a dog into our home. We were NOT READY. 
 
Then comes the end of June. 

 

My husband comes home and says "I have something you've been wanting!" 

 

Me, being sarcastic says "What...a PUPPY?"

 

He deflated and goes "How'd you know?  Who told you?"  (At that point I was ready to KILL HIM).  I thought to myself OH NO, what has he done!!  NOT AGAIN!! I TOLD HIM NO NO NO!!

 

He pulled a puppy out of his back pack.  White, fat, adorable.  One brown ear. 

 
Of course the kids saw her and were in love. 

 

She had JUST turned 5 weeks old, and was really too young to be away from  her parents, but it was seriously for the best that we took her.  Back yard breeders....are not so nice to unwanted puppies. 

 

So she stayed.  Of course my toddler daughter almost killed her the next day.  *gulp*  I had warned my daughter not to run with her insulated sippy cup full of water through the house with the puppy chasing her...she did it anyway.  Sippy cup flew out of her hand, and I'm not joking when I say it made a bee line for that dogs head.  BAM.  Right on her head. Poor Molly.

 

I thought she was dead. 

 

She yelped, had a seizure, and went limp. 

 

I was horrified.  What the hell man?  We just GOT this dog, we were not meant to have one.  WORST PET PEOPLE EVER!!!

 

I cried.  My daughter cried, my husband cried, I'm here holding the puppy in my hands rubbing her belly like crazy trying to bring her out of it.  She whimpered, she twitched, she opened her eyes.  She was alive!! I hugged her, I kissed her, I cried some more, my daughter kissed that puppy and cried too. We all snuggled her and told her we loved her and we were so glad she was ok.  That was only DAY TWO of having this dog.  We were in the process of going out the door to the vet when she came to!!

 
She lived.  She is five years old now.  Fat and sassy.  She loves twizzlers and jelly beans.  She farts and burps all the time and thinks it's funny.  She'll fart, and then look at my husband like HE did it, and we laugh because really?  The dog blames the human for farting, what a turn of events that one is!

 

She guards our children.  She snuggles with them, she wants to be a part of EVERYTHING we do.  Every movie night, every card game, every time we're outside playing and doing something as a family, she is right there in the middle of it.

 

Yes, dogs CAN feel embarrassed.  As Molly.  She had to rock the cone of shame for a week, and she hated every second of it.  She totally wore her embarrassed face a LOT.  Towards the end though she was owning that cone and strutting her stuff anyway, haha!
 

She always knew when my son was about to have a seizure.

She always knew when my other son needed a buddy before and after a cancer scan. 

She always knows when my daughter is feeling frustrated because of her speech and reading issues, and will let my daughter read to her and she'll just lay her head in my daughters lap and listen, no matter how long it takes. 

 
She's amazing.
 Above:  The crap Molly puts up with, and she still hasn't bitten off my face.  Did I mention she's amazing?



Our other two dogs can be a pain in the arse, but I love them.  We had to do a lot of work with Karmen.  She came from a very bad abusive home.  She didn't know how to be a family dog.  She was scared.  You would come near her and she'd urinate everywhere.  She was scared.  She always got into the trash, and potty training her is STILL an issue now even three years later.  She still hates certain types of men (the way they dress or talk or act is enough to send her over the edge).  She does NOT LIKE TEENAGERS AT ALL.  Loves babies though and toddlers and little kids. 

 

Above:  The look of a dog who is at HOME, and who feels perfectly like part of the family!  You have NO IDEA what it took to get her to this point!! She was so scared and didn't know what a dog toy was didn't know how to play with humans, or anything.  Look at her now!

Telling mom it's time to spend some time with her now!
 

She loves to chase cats (won't hurt them, but loves to chase them!) 

 

River....oh River. She's a hot mess.  A ball of furry anxiety.  Allergies.  You name it.  HOWEVER, she's amazing at cheering you up.  She knows exactly when to come over and give you her attention. 

 

 

Have you ever seen "Nut Job"?  If you have, you will probably remember Buddy, the rat...the squirrel's best friend.  Well, River is the dog version of Buddy (cept she's hyper and a tiny bit spastic and scared of absolutely everything!)  However....she is LOYAL as HECK! She lays her head down next to you and just stares into your eyes, soul searching to see if she can find out what is wrong with you and fix it.  I have HUMAN best friends who don't even do that.

 
Our dogs have taught my children responsibility.  How to care for another living being, and keep it alive because it depends on you. 
 
Ways in which my DOGS are as much like my CHILDREN.

• They've all had to be potty trained, and it was HELL. 
• They've all pottied on my floor both #1 and #2 and puke. 
• I've stepped in all of it at some point or another.
• They've all had boo boo's and ouchies and the sickies and needed to be cuddled and cared for. 
• They all rely on me to keep them alive.  Someone has to feed them all. 
• I can ground all of them (though grounding the dog involves sending them to their kennels while grounding the children involves simply sending them to their bedrooms). 
• I buy them all toys so they don't play with or break MY STUFF. 
• I had to teach all of them what they COULD and COULD NOT play with.
• They have all at some point...thought the toilet was the place to be, whether the kids were playing in it, or the dogs were drinking from it). 
• I've had to be careful that NONE of my babies furry or not got ahold of anything that could potentially make them ill (plants, chemicals etc). 
• I have to make sure they all stay out of the road and don't get hit by a car.
• I have to make sure they all get regular check ups and shots.
• I still cringe at the cost of vet bills and medical bills.
• They all rely on me to feed them.  (Though the kids are now old enough to feed the critters themselves, they do still need to be reminded from time to time, and apparently the kids never remember to WATER the animals so I always do that, and the dogs really appreciate it, as they can no longer get in to the bathroom water bowl, soooo yeh). 
• At some point in time all of them have gotten into the trash can and made a mess when no one was looking. 
• At some point in time someone got curious about the litter box and took a peek.  (Only ONE of them decides to eat from it like a buffet, and it's a furry baby that does that). 
• I still have to wash dog laundry and human laundry.
• They all want to cling to me and follow me around.  I can't ever be human or dog free when sitting on the couch.  Someone is always curled up next to me, or on me or at my feet or at my head.  It's suffocating some days.  I'm always tripping over someone (though I have a feeling the cats are just trying to kill me off). 
• I have grocery bills for the pets.  I have to keep in mind what they like and try to get them healthy food that isn't going to be bad for them, that I can still afford so I can feed my OTHER babies too. 
• I have to keep a roof over our heads, not just for my human babies but for my furry babies.  I don't want any of my children going without a home. 
• The dogs back sass me just as much as my kids do. 
• The dogs fight and wrestle throughout the house as much as my kids do, the dogs even make more of a mess than the kids do by chewing up dog toys all over my just vacuumed living room!
• They all jump on the couch.
• They all show me their love with snuggles, sloppy kisses and hugs. 
• I like to do photo shoots of all of my babies, human and furry just so I always have memories of them and updated photos. 
• I have birthday parties for all of them (even if the dogs just have a 'party' with us and they get a cupcake and a dog treat and a new dog toy)  We still celebrate their birthday!
• They will all sit for treats!
• None of them can stay clean after a bath, especially when company is coming over or you have to go somewhere.
• Speaking of bath...they both always soak the bathroom, and you. 
• They both leave their stuff all over the floor.
• You find strange things in your shoes, and under your couch and sometimes it's hard to determine who put what in exactly each place.
• They always make you out to look like a liar, by doing the exact opposite of what you JUST said and always within the eye sight of company or friends or family. 
• They always manage to ruin your out fit when you are finally ready to go out the door.  Boogers, spit up, muddy paw prints, etc etc.
• They all run to you shrieking/barking with excitement and happiness when you walk in the door from work.  Their pure JOY of you returning home is enough to put a smile on your face a mile wide!! "MOOOOOMMY!!!!"  (Bark bark baaaaark)
• They all need clean water, and I worry about them getting too much son, or getting too cold. 
• I worry about someone being mean to them or hurting them or doing something bad to them when I am not around.
• I get a babysitter for all of them. 
• If you don't like kids or dogs or cats, chances are I probably won't like you and neither will my dogs, cats, or kids.
• They all have a desire to chase birds out of my yard.

So please, tell me how my pets are not my 'babies'.  They aren't just some furry creature that shares my home.  They are living breathing existing FAMILY that lives here with the rest of us.  We share our space with them, and they share their space with us.  They protect us and we protect them. 
 
I don't find it insulting in the SLIGHTEST if someone says they have FUR babies at home.  Grouchy blogger lady is just plum out of her MIND if she's going to let us dog loving lunatics get on her nerves.  I'd hate to be a dog in her home.   If you don't like the term, don't use it.  You don't have to call your dog your baby. 

I don't think this woman knows what it's like to adopt a dog.  She was making it sound like people could just pick a dog and go home and be done with it.  Well, you can do that.  But a lot of people go through a rescue group.  You have to fill out paper work and be approved to adopt a dog.  You need vet recommendations, home visit, other recommendations, and some rescues have some seriously strict rules for adopting their dogs.  As well as SOMETIMES paying a high adoption fee. 

If you REALLY want that dog, you'll do whatever it takes to bring that dog home to your family. 

Some people, love dogs so much they FOSTER them.  Just like foster families would do for a HUMAN child.  Sometimes these dogs are in a home for a day or two, a few weeks, months, or even YEARS.  They fosters work diligently with the dogs to help them over come whatever insecurity or problem they have, just like a human foster family would.  It takes WORK, patience, and love, and a desire to want to make a difference.

Why?  Because just like human children, we believe that dogs are family, and they are not something you can throw away or not want and we believe they can be taken from a bad situation and put into a better one until the right family comes for them, or their situation at home gets better.  Foster homes are a stepping stone for both children in foster care, and dogs in foster care.  Granted, it is probably much more emotional for foster children than foster dogs.  Though I have seen plenty of depressed dogs go through foster homes, because their family gave them up. 

Below are a few of my foster dogs I've had, we've had several foster dogs these are only a few!

Above River snuggles with Pookie a foster dog we had for almost two months!

Even my foster dogs like above and below are considered parts of the family and 'babies' while they are here.  Which they love because most generally...they've never gotten that attention before!

Children and dogs, they deserve our love. Very young children and dogs are so very much alike.  They just want to be loved, cuddled, and know that they are special and important to you.  They can all have their feelings hurt if they feel rejected.   

 

 
Hahahaha  some people don't think dogs are "BABIES" They are funny. 

Now I know people who have lost a human child.  I have not, thankfully, and it's a prayer I pray every day that I will never experience, and I really wish NO ONE had to experience that loss.  I can understand how they might feel if someone said their fur baby died and they were crushed and their 'child' was gone.  Parents who truly HAVE lost a child....a child that came from their body (or not, because adopted children are as much YOURS as ones you give birth too) they really have felt that loss of a child, of a real HUMAN child and they don't get how a dog (or cat) can even come CLOSE to that loss.  And yes, I agree with them. 

Would I be CRUSHED if any of my dogs died.  YES, I certainly would.  I am sure I would also make the same insensitive comment about the loss of my furbaby (because I did two years ago when my baby Severus died from being poisoned by a rotten neighbor, it was a dreadful thing watching him slowly die after taking him to the vet and trying to save him, I raised him from a tiny barely able to walk kitten, and I held him as he slowly slipped away.  It was devastating, BUT not nearly as soul crushing as it would have been if it had been one of my children!!) 

I was able to function after the loss of my cat.  I've lost many pets throughout my 30 years of life.  Pets do come and go.  They only live so long after all.  Their life expectancy is a lot shorter in most pets than it is that of a human life span.

So losing a child....so much more harder it would be.  As I've mentioned before one of my sons, was diagnosed with cancer as a newborn.  Their was (and still is always) a possibility of losing him, though we pray he stays No Evidence of Disease for the remainder of his life and suffers no ill affects from the chemo and surgeries he had, but only time will tell, and if he lives a healthy life style, which we, as his parents, highly encourage! If I were to lose any of my children....I know I wouldn't be able to handle it. 

I would literally have my heart ripped from my body and torn into a bazillion pieces.  The agony I know I would feel would be BEYOND words if I lost a child, a HUMAN child. 

However, I will still call my dogs/cats my fur children, because they are.  They are furry, and I do raise them very similarly to my children, they are a part of the family after all.  We are not one of those families who ties a dog up in the back yard under a tree and leaves it there all year and ignores it after it is no longer a 'cute' puppy. 

At my house, if you don't want dog or  hair on your clothes don't come over.  Have kids that are afraid of animals, or you are allergic...this is not the house for you.  Not meant to be rude, but it's just the truth.  If my dogs don't like you...chances are I'm going to be suspicious of you too.  I have a history with my dogs, they've protected us, and loved us and comforted us. 

I shared the article on my Facebook page, about how it's an insult to moms everywhere to call your dog your child.  Now, granted a lot of my friends are animal advocates so I may have had a slightly biased group....but we all think the woman sounded bitter and unfriendly and not a pet person in general.  Another friend shared another interesting article with me, that I REALLY think this other woman needs to read! Science has shown...pet owners really DO love their pets like 'children' 

See scientific proof.  Can't argue with that, right?  Right. 

So Molly, Karmen, River, Hagrid, and Diablo....my fuzzy wuzzy pain in the butt 'babies'.  (FYI Hagrid follows me around the house "whining and crying" all day in his annoying cat meow, and trust me....that is as EQUALLY annoying as a toddler going "mom mom mom mom mom mom mom a MILLION times a day, or as annoying as a toddler (or any child) who whines/cries/carries on CONSTANTLY.  It grates on the nerves a weeeee bit. 

OH and Hagrid loves to be held...like a newborn.  Does that count?  He's a weird cat.

Circus Mom
("MOM to 5 Furry 'babies') and Mommy to a human daughter and twin sons. 

 

Why Father's Day Has Never Been a Great Holiday (for me)

Granted, I'm not a DAD or anything, but it's never ever been one of my top favorite holidays, and even now at the age of thirty it's still not one of my favorites.  One wouldn't think it would really matter, because well, I'm not a dad.  BUUUUT, it does matter. 

It started the year my dad died.  He didn't just DIE he committed suicide, when I was 17 months old.  Harsh. 

I grew up without a father.  Not only that, I grew up hearing nothing but negative stories about my dad throughout my childhood (not just from my Mother either, but from most of my family).  While I'm sure in some way they meant well, (in some way or another) it didn't really do much for me emotionally. 

Especially when I was the only one growing up without a dad in my family. 

I got to watch all of my cousins grow up with a dad AND a mom. 

That sucked. 

The biggest majority of my friends growing up had dads, and even if their dad didn't live IN their homes...their dad was at least...alive.  I didn't have ANY friends growing up whose father was dead. 

When it came out to people HOW my dad died, that was rough.  The teasing, the mean things kids said (and adults too).  It was hard. 

I hated elementary.  They would do fun things for Mother's day and I was all in to that! I was always more than happy to thank my Mother for being there for me. 

However they would from time to time do things that were meant for dads.  I was always left out.  I literally didn't have a dad to do those things for.  I hated the stupid father's day commercials on TV. 

The smiling family with the mom, dad, siblings and what not.  I did not have that.  Not for several years anyway. 

Granted I DID give my Mother cards and stuff on Father's Day, because after all she was a single mom posing as both my mom AND my dad, and I know that wasn't easy.  I was a tough kid to raise.

I was not for the faint of heart.

As much as I love my Mother and appreciate the things she has done for me, it still didn't fill the fact...that my dad was dead, and I was left out of all of the father's day...stuff.

In the same respect, I'm sure Fathers day was NOT easy for my Mother either.  Knowing that I didn't have dad, knowing the HARD conversations we had to have numerous times throughout my childhood.  I actually remember the first time I asked her where my dad was.  The answer she gave me, and the hollow, sad feeling I felt inside of me that stayed with me for years. Having to explain that kind of stuff to your child....not an easy thing to do.  She had to carry around a lot of emotions most of my childhood, I know it was not easy for her at all.

There would have been NO Daddy/Daughter dances for me (like my daughter and her father get to experience every year, and I am so so so happy they get to go to together!!) 

When I was fourteen my Mother remarried.  My stepdad came into the picture.  By this point I was just like, whatever.  I have only four more years left to live at home and then I am out of here.  However, I knew that my little sister who was like 3 at the time, and whose father was also not in the picture, would need a 'dad' in her life because frankly...I knew what it was like to not have a father figure in your life, and it sucked.  A lot.  So I bided my time until I was old enough to leave home.  (ended up leaving home a couple of months before I turned eighteen). 

I can't say my relationship with my stepdad was a good one.  That was mostly my fault.  I was a very moody teenager (aren't they all?)  My theory at the time was "I already had ONE dad, and I DON'T want or NEED another one!! The one I had apparently didn't want the job, and I'm not looking to refill that position, FOUR YEARS LEFT until I'm an 'adult', I don't need no dad". 

I was never close to any of the guys in my family to ever look at any of them as a father figure.  My Mother had a couple of boyfriends I almost considered a father figure, but that didn't usually last long and I was back to just saying "screw it, I give up I don't need one". 

Yeh that was my teenage angst attitude towards fathers.  Don't need one, don't want one.

So that didn't help my relationship with my stepdad.  We fought a lot.  I did NOT want to get along anymore than I had to. We weren't ALWAYS at each other's throats, just mainly when he tried to over step his (what I considered) his 'fatherly' bounds. 

I never called him dad.  I still cannot bring myself to call him DAD.  He is my step-da6d.  I call him by his name as well. 

Now that I'm thirty, I look back and think "Oh man.  I was a little ass hole" 

I was.  I really really was. 

My stepdad was really trying.  He didn't mean to over step anything, he was just trying to BE THERE.  For that, even though at the time I didn't appreciate it, I do now definitely appreciate it.

He chaperoned school dances with my Mother (at the time it humiliated me that they were there, but I am thankful they were there).  They went to all of my school programs, and activities and they both cheered me on all of the time.  That always made me feel so special and important, because I knew that even if NO ONE ELSE in my family showed up (which no one ever DID show up for anything I ever did, cept my Grandma while she was alive) I knew my Mother and my Stepdad and little sister would be there.  He didn't have to go to any of that stuff.  He didn't have to care, but he did.  When I look back at memories with a FATHER, it's memories made with my stepfather in my life, those funny stories and silly times I share with my kids and that we laugh about on Christmas. 

Above my daughter with her "Paw Paw" D at three months old. 
Below my daughter with her "PawPaw D" at her 7th birthday party.  He brought his convertible down and gave her a ride, she thought she was SUPER posh because of that. 



Family photo of my Mother, my stepfather holding his favorite grand daughter, my husband and me.  This was my daughters first Christmas! (Aw if only I could look that skinny and cute again, haha)




Now that I'm adult, (well not just recently either, over the past several years).  I've tried to kind of amend ways and be a bit LESS of an ass hole to my stepdad (ok a lot less), because after all, he put up with all my shit.  He came into our lives when I was a TEENAGER.  He WILLINGLY entered that lions den.  A house full of WOMEN.  My Mother, my little sister who was just coming out of the 'toddler years' and was still a whiney little brat, and a TEENAGER, who was reverting BACK to being a whiney little sassy mouth toddler.  That takes courage.  So I give him credit for that! Unfortunately, my stepsister seems to have taken my respect for my stepfather as some kind of challenge, because it seems we butt heads quite often on where he is concerned.  It's not intentional on my part.  I am more of the mind that he's a grown man, he's the one who decides who he visits and when.  I live three hours away (maybe four?), we're lucky if we see him once a year, it's a miracle if we see him twice or more in a year! So when he comes to visit, it's a BIG deal! I'm not trying to step on ANYONES toes.  I know my Mother and stepfather are no longer married, but the fact he still wants to be a part of our lives, is quite humbling and really, really means a lot to me.  Again, he has went above and beyond the call of "being a dad'. 
Above:  This is a photo from several years ago, but it's still one of my favorites! I don't have too many photos of the two of us, but here I am with my stepdad.  Thanks again, for everything.

The only thing I have left of my biological father, is a scrapbook full of photos of him, some photos of me and him when I was a baby, some of his items from when he was in the National Guard (I have the flag that was on his casket, eventually I want to get one of those beautiful wooden and glass cases to put it in to proudly display in my house other than the same old plastic bag it was stored in from the funeral home).  I have my father's military jacket, and any medals or whatever that went on it, I have some other odds and ends of his too.  I inherited my father's dark brown eyes (which as I've gotten older they've turned into more of a hazel), though all three of my children have those same big dark brown eyes with the lusciously long and thick eye lashes.  That all comes from my biological father.  I also inherited his BIG OL' BUTT.  Two out of three of my children have also inherited that same old butt.  He also gave me the dreaded crooked teeth.  Thanks for that.  Could have done without that one.  Thanks to a year and a half of braces...they are much MUCH straighter (not perfect, but they are a LOOOT better than they were!).  I'm build like most of the females on my dads side of the family.  Short and round.  Thanks for that one....

These would have been photos from my 2nd Christmas, three months before he would no longer be with us.

That's what my father gave me, DNA.  I don't have a SINGLE memory with my father.  No good memories, no bad memories, NOTHING.  No memories of this guy what so ever.  I just have to go off of other people's memories of him (and sometimes...those memories aren't good ones).  I think had he died any other way...(car accident, serving in the military, ANYTHING other than suicide...that people would have talked about him differently, they would have spoke more about the good things, but because he took his OWN life and there is a terrible stigma with that....they only spoke in a negative manner about him).  If I want to hear the GOOD things (which I KNOW there ARE good things about him, after all, I think I am a good person, a good 'thing' and half of my DNA came from my father...so he couldn't be ALL bad).  If I want to hear the good, funny, humbling stories of my father, I have to talk to his family which I didn't have contact with until I was eighteen, and even now that I am thirty that contact is spotty at best.  Partially, my own fault.  What do you say to people you don't know much about?  That you never heard very much good about?  That when you see them...and they look just like your father, and then you end up looking a lot like him....you'd think it would be comforting, but it's not.  It's not comforting at all that I look like my Father.  In fact, it makes it all so much worse.

He also left behind a 14 page suicide note, and a cassette tape I have NEVER been able to listen to because I cannot bring myself to listen to his voice.  So it sits in my closet in a junk box, along with the manila envelope with his note (which I have read). 

My father would have celebrated a birthday on June 12th, just days before Father's Day.  I don't remember a single father's day with my father.  (Granted I would have only celebrated like ONE with him alive anyway, I do believe, he died right before our second father's day together).  He passed away in March, three months before his next birthday, and fathers day.

So no, Father's day does not give me warm fuzzy feelings most of the time. 

It gives me cranky resentment and eye rolling and huffy puffiness of all of the other people across the world oooh and awing over the wonderful father's they have and the great times they shared, and yadda yadda.  It makes me want to YAK most of the time.  With social media, it's just worse now.  Before social media it was just TV commercials that made me scowl and change the channel.  I avoid the store as much as possible during Father's day time.  I hate seeing all of the cards and t shirts.  (Not saying I'm not happy for people who have those warm and fuzzy father's day memories and great dads, I truly am happy for those people! But when you get flooded with it...it can eat at you JUST a TIIIINY little bit). 

Probably why I haven't gone as extra of a mile as I SHOULD HAVE for my own husband for father's day over the years, which again...makes me an ass hole.  This year, was pretty awesome though, and my husband has wore a big ol' smile on his face all weekend. 

Above:  Us this weekend.  We celebrated Fathers Day on Saturday because he had to work all day today.  So we drove to the lake for a lot of swimming, and a picnic lunch and some hiking.  We paused for a quick selfie, because, well otherwise I have no photos of me with my husband.  Love this guy.  He woke up yesterday morning to home made biscuits and gravy served to him in bed, with a hot cup of coffee, and the kids delivered their gifts to him while he ate, and we had even let him sleep in.  He loved his #1 Dad shirt, loved his super hero coffee cup, and his SUPER DAD, travel mug, and Incredible Hulk Fathers Day card, and home made goodies from the kids, and his favorite caramel and apple suckers.

Above:  My husband, and my daughter, three months after she was born, at her first Christmas.  His first time being a Daddy, was because of this little girl that he couldn't live without.

He didn't grow up with a dad either.  He grew up in foster care.  He had it way worse than I did in many ways.  Then when he finally DID get to know his dad again, he didn't get to ever have the relationship with his father that he wanted to because his father became ill and really struggled for years, and then passed away.  There is a lot of things left unsaid, and things left undone.  That's a lot of baggage for my poor husband.  Which is why Fathers Day IS an important holiday to my husband, because he's happy that he's been there for his children, the way his father was never there for him.  By the time he was finally able to reunite with his dad and move past a lot of things, there time together was just too short.  The below photo has always been one of my favorites.  My daughter being loved on by her Daddy, and her Grandpa.  She didn't get to see her Grandpa again until her twin brothers were born, and that was the last time she saw him, it breaks our heart they never got to spend more time together.  There was no doubt in my mind that her Grandpa loved all three of his grandbabies, and he was VERY proud of the man and father his son had turned out to be, and he had not repeated any of the same mistakes he had made.  In the years before his death, we knew his dad was a good man, we respected him, a lot.  We were thankful for the time we DID get to spend with him.  My husband will continue to learn from his father, even though his father is no longer with us.


However, even with all of that....my husband is one damn good Daddy. 

He has his moments where I don't think so fondly of him, but to be fair...that's a two way street.  We both know we aren't perfect and sometimes our parenting isn't always 100000% (but whose really is?). 

He became a father at the age of twenty.  He was scared to death.  You can read my post I wrote a few days ago "To My Husband On Fathers Day"

I am so thankful to have him in my life, and the lives of our three amazing children.  I'd be lost without him, absolutely lost. 

My children have recently realized that some kids do not have a father in their life.  (Mostly because the dads just leave...and aren't around).  They don't know any kids whose father is dead.  They know Their Grandpa Randy, is dead, and that he's MY dad and that he died when I was a baby, but it hasn't really clicked yet.  They love their "PawPaw" (my step dad).  My daughter is totally a Paw Paws girl, and it's a good thing he lives three hours away because he'd have my daughter so spoiled it would be CRAZY. 

I remind my kids every day to NEVER take their daddy for granted.  That he's a great Daddy.  He loves them fiercely and always wants them to know he is present and here for them. Be thankful you have a father who LIVES with you, who tucks you in at night, who chases monsters out of your room, stays home with you when you are sick and Mommy HAS to go to work, who will run to the school to drop off whatever you need when the school calls because you are in tears in the office because you left something at home (lunch, home work, a change of socks or shoes, or you aren't feeling well etc).  A Daddy that despite hurting super bad from rheumatoid arthritis, will still get down and wrestle with you all, and give you piggy back rides, and you can't see his face...but he's hurting, bad, but he does it for them...because he loves them so much and wants to spend time with them.


So on one hand I am not a fan of Father's day. 

On the other hand...watching my husband with our kids...it makes me appreciate Fathers Day so much more. 

I read an article the other day about the reason WHY we celebrate Fathers Day.  I cannot find the original article but I found this one from the History Channel website that is poignant and full of information, Mother's Day is (no surprise) what helped inspire Fathers Day.  However, the FIRST Father's Day was a one time ordeal in a small town because 362 men died in a mine explosion, and nearly all of those men were husbands and fathers, and so many children were left fatherless. 

Bam. 

That hits home. 

So technically, Fathers day is for children whose father's have passed away, in the true sense.  A time to REMEMBER your deceased father.  To honor what they've done for you (for those whose dads died in the coal mine...those dads died, trying to feed and care for their families and children, doing a job they KNEW was dangerous, that they could easily die from). 

From then though, Father's day evolved.  If you'd like to read more about it, please check out this article at the History Channel website.

So even though Fathers Day isn't MY personal favorite holiday, I still say a happy and fantastic day to all of the dads out there! To those dads in MY life to the dads in YOUR life, and all the dads in between.  I really do sincerely wish you a great day. 

Mom Circus

First Summer Lake Trip of the Year

I know that technically it isn't Father's Day, but it is Father's Day weekend.  So we celebrated a day early since my husband has to work tomorrow.  He was pleasantly surprised to wake up to breakfast in bed, and to find we had allowed him to sleep in.  The kids smothered him with cuddles and kisses and told him what a great Daddy he was and they wanted him to have the best day ever.

How can a day be bad with home made biscuits and gravy and waking up to snuggles from three cute kids?  Not to mention a huge cup of coffee.  Yep, I think that's a recipe for a great day.

The kids gifted him with their Father's Day gifts.  They had all worked hard to paint a storage box for him that doubled, as a gift box for their Father's Day gifts.  They got him a #1 Dad T shirt, an Incredible Hulk card, an Avengers coffee cup, and a Super Dad travel mug (that he got a few days early and he absolutely loves).  They also threw in some pictures they had drawn for him.  Not to mention his favorite suckers....green apple and caramel. 

Around ten this morning we decided to make an impromptu trip to the lake, about 35miles away from us.  The kids were ecstatic!

We had so much fun swimming, and WOW the lake was quite full today! Seems everyone else had the same idea.  To be fair, it has been really really rainy the past month or so and not really as warm as it normally would be by this time of year.  So today was HOT, humid, and NOT RAINING.  So everyone ran for the lake. 

We packed a picnic lunch, gave the mother in law a phone call to see if she wanted to come along, we picked up a bunch of drinks and a cooler at the store (our other cooler floated away when our yard flooded recently), and we grabbed a bunch of ice for the cooler, and off we set!

After we swam, we ate our lunch, and then I took the kids on a little hike like I do every year, to the same area.  They love hiking over to this spot and seeing the lake and looking for animal tracks all over the ground.



We grabbed some information from the lake store about camping and we're hoping to go camping this summer, just kind of wanting it to dry up a little bit first! Now I like to camp...but I'm not super at it.  The kids have NEVER been camping before, not even in our own back yard.  We have a little pup tent, but they've never slept in it over night.  So this first time we're only going to camp for one night, and see how the kids do.  If its' a disaster we'll know to wait a little while longer.  If it goes well...it'll be something we do a day longer next time. 

Tonight we are making home made pizza, bread sticks, and salad.  The kids invited their Grandma to eat with them too. So she's coming over early to help with the pizzas.  They will be done about the time my husband gets home from work. Which will work out perfectly!

We came home tired from our short trip to the lake.  The kids were sad they didn't get to swim longer (they are part fish apparently, just like their father).  It is super hot outside, too hot to really doing anything out there until this evening when I'll probably take them out to do something in the yard, I don't know. 

I guess it's time to clean up the house a bit and get things ready for that home made pizza making!