Monday, December 6, 2010

That’s all that matters

Okay, so this is something that I have written and rewritten a few times, but have decided today to finally post. Almost a month ago, Bug had surgery. Nothing major mind you. Something kids everywhere have done nearly every day. She had tubes put in her ears and ended up having her adenoids removed. Today she had her checkup and the doctor said she’s healed quicker than expected, and just being around her now, you can tell a major difference in her speech, walking, and overall behavior, but the experience up to this was, well somewhat rattling for ole Dad.

Up front, you have to understand, it seems like for one reason or another, we’ve been taking Bug to see a doctor, or she needed to see one since she was born. Fortunately, its never been anything major, but it’s been enough to keep me on edge, and every time something else comes up, it puts me right back there again.

To start it all off, Bug was 3 weeks, almost a month early. What felt like the entire pregnancy there seemed to always be something going on, to the point where there were a few times I was nervous going to the doctor because I was worried we wouldn’t get good news (and I’m proud to say, I only missed 1 doctors appointment the entire pregnancy!) Part of this is where she gets her nickname from me. When she was born, she was 6lbs 6oz. When we left the hospital she was down to 6lbs, 3oz. She wasn’t tiny tiny, but to me she was still little, she was my little Bug.

The next event came the same week as her four month check up. She woke up with aBug at UK - 4 mo fever early in the morning, but nothing too severe, we gave her some Tylenol and sent her on her way to my Mother-n-laws, who keeps her during the day while we work. It didn’t take long for me to get a call from my wife that she was taking Bug to the doctor because the fever wasn’t getting any better; it seemed to be getting worse. Fortunately I was able to get there, where they said she was running an extremely high fever and was dehydrated. I stayed in the room as they tried to get an IV into my little girl at ever possible location, all to no avail. Eventually it was decided to transport her to UK Children’s hospital. Once there, they were able to get an IV into her, start getting some fluids into her, and she seemed to start feeling better, only problem was, no one could tell us what the problem was. Once the doctors let us know that we’d be staying at least overnight for observation, I decided to run home and get some stuff for us, while my wife had her parents there with her. The drive is just over an hour one way, so getting home, getting stuff, and coming back equaled a little over 3 hours. When I left, temp was down below 100, everything seemed to be going good. I’m gone 3 hours, within 10 minutes of getting back and I get a phone call asking where I was. Bug’s temp had spiked back up to nearly 105, and my heart dropped! How could I let my little girl down? How could Daddy leave her and not be there is all I kept thinking. We were at the hospital for a total of 3 day, and I never left the building again until it was time to go home.

Since that scare, we’ve fought high fevers, and it seemed like we could never shake some type of ear infection. Finally about 2 months ago we took her to the doctor. She’d been having a little temperature and you could just tell something was wrong. Turned out both ears were infected. So they sent us to an Ears, Nose, and Throat specialist, who after looking at her rather quickly, decided she did in fact need tubes put in her ears.

My initial reaction was a bit of a stomach drop, simply because I didn’t want any type of procedure done on my little girl. I wasn’t really worried about the tubes, because my wife’s nephew had them before, and I had heard of other children having them without problems. The worried feeling was somewhat lifted as the doctor proceeded to explain the procedure to us, she would just be put to sleep with gas. She’d be out of our hands 10 minutes. Once asleep they would look at her adenoids and if they were enlarged, they’d go ahead and remove them. The more he talked, explained the procedure and what was going on with her, the more I felt relieved and realized that this would be very beneficial to Bug, not only health wise, but possibly development wise, and with the constant ear infections, she probably wasn’t hearing as well as as she could.

Then the day came. We had to arrive and the surgery center just after 6am, with a littleBug and I before surgery girl, who was relatively happy for being up so early, and not being able to have anything to drink yet. I was nervous to say the least, but keeping it together and just thinking it’ll be quick, and she’ll feel so much better for it. Then came the moment that I felt my stomach drop again. As they took us back to help put her in her gown and get things prepped, they let us know that not only were they putting her out by IV (not gas) but that the procedure would be around 45 minutes (not the 10 minutes we were told). As the nurse was telling us all this, asking the typical questions about family history, I have no doubt my face was pale white. I was already having anxiety issues about my little girl having a procedure done, but now that everything we had been told the week before has been thrown out the window?! I’m shocked I was able to keep it together, especially at the site of the nurse carrying her away from us as we had to walk back into the waiting room. For the next hour, I just kept thinking how the nurse just kind of took her that I didn’t get to give my baby girl a kiss or tell her I love her; they just swooped in and took her!

Finally, once our name was called to come back, we were able to talk to the doctor, who said everything went fine, tubes were in, and that they did take her adenoid out as they were blocking 70% of her passageway. At this point, my thought patterns changed. I just thought “70%?! My baby had to have been miserable!”

Now a month later, she’s checked out with flying colors! The doctor said she’s healed much quicker than expected, everything looks good, plus my skinny minny has gained a pound and an inch since she went in for surgery! Ultimately as long as she’s happy and healthy all the torture and stress Daddy has to endure for her is fine, and bottom line, her being happy and healthy is all that matters.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

A night away

Tonight is the first night I’ve spent away from home since Bug’s surgery, and well, its not be completely smooth for me. Ever since her surgery, she’s been a happier baby overall; livelier, more talkative and interactive. It was hard enough for me to leave her this evening the way she was playing and trying to keep my attention, and it broke my heart leaving, but just a bit ago, I couldn’t keep my heart from breaking.

Basically, Bug is refusing to go to sleep without my there. Every noise she hears, she looks at the door and starts saying my name like she expects me to come through the door. I tried talking to her on the phone, and the excitement her had in hearing my voice brought me to tears, because as happy as she was to hear me, and even though she wasn’t going to truly understand, I had to tell her that Daddy wouldn’t be there tonight. Tried telling her goodnight and she told me “No” in her precious fashion. I’d tell her that I love her, and she’d mumble something back, not quit “I love you” but it’s getting closer now that she has the tubes in her ears.

So basically in the upcoming years, I’m screwed when it comes to travel. I’ve managed to deal with her playing with me extra, or doing what she can to keep me at home and from leaving, even chasing me to the door. Once she starts getting out “I love you” or the first time she says “Daddy come home” I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay away. I’m man enough to admit that part of tonight brought me to tears, hearing her on the other side of the phone, knowing she was looking for me and waiting for me to come back, but travelling occasionally is part of it, parents everywhere do it every day. It’s just the difficulty involved, now that’s she’s starting to communicate, was not something I had prepared myself to deal with.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Random Leg Licking!!

No idea why she started this, but in the car yesterday I looked back, and Bug was licking her leg!! Absolutely no idea why she started this or why she was doing it and fortunately she hasn't repeated it.  She did however have no problem posing and repeating the action so I could snap a few pictures of the said behavior.  She has been absolutely fascinated with her tongue lately, so I pass it off as that more then anything else.  Can’t help but smile at it though….

Monday, September 27, 2010

Canaan turns 4

Today is my son’s birthday.  I don’t get to see him or give him a birthday hug, forn501461341_43492_1594 another three days, I’m hoping to get a phone call with him late, but he’s sick and its up to his mother and how he’s feeling if I get to.

He is my first and only son.  He’s my pride and who makes me strive to be a better man, a better father, because as little as we get to spend time with each other, he deserves the best he can get for every window of opportunity we have.  I cannot imagine many things being much greater of a challenge then what I have gone through these first 4 years of his life, but no matter how upset I get, or jealous of other fathers with their sons, when I sit back and hear “Daddy, I love you” or sit and watch him draw a picture of us together, all the emotion gets ripped away, leaving the love and n501461341_60824_3699pride I have in my son.

Unless you have to share custody of a child, you really don’t know the daily personal trials you deal with, including of all things, guilt.  However, the highlight of every other week is the day I know I’ll be going down and getting him.  It always seems like the work day goes faster.  It hurts to see how quickly he grows where I see him in spurts rather then on a daily basis.  In what feels like a flash of light he can go from barely talking, to singing his ABCs, to asking me to read every single road sign between the drop off and home.  Its a strange sensation, having such joy and personal hurt out of the same thing, but that the reality of it.  I won’t be there to play tooth fairy when he loses a tooth.  I’m not 12432_185816566341_501461341_3044425_5218227_nable to take a day off work and stay home with him when he’s sick.    I’ve not been  able to be who I wanted to be for him.  Am I better?  I try to be, but its hard to truly tell, when most of our one-on-one time is spent traveling on the road because once he’s home, everyone wants to see him.  I hate having to share when I have such a small amount of time, but I hate him not being around his family worse, so I do my best to swallow my selfishness for him.

I realize I won’t get to do some of the things with him like other fathers will, my time is limited right now, but it was my decision to be his father, to stand up and take responsibility, and no matter how hard the road is to travel sometimes, I’d never go back and change the path I chose, because he is my son, and I love him with all my heart.  Happy Birthday son.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Drawing with Bug

One of my favorite things right now is watching Bug draw. Something about how serious and intense her look is as she concentrates on the page, I just love it!



Sunday, August 1, 2010

Selfish Self Promotion

I accidentally poked a hole in Abby's float last time we went to the pool, hope she doesn't mind me using the chance to selfishly self promote!

Thursday, July 29, 2010

@#%&*!

Aww....whats better then hearing your child first saying one of those magic four letter words they've heard you say? Not knowing that what they're doing is actually wrong, and saying it in the most embarrassing moment?  Fortunately that hasn't happened to me, and knock on wood it wont, but I've seen it happen to people before, and really, its one of those small hurdles to get over when your child's brain is like a sponge on crack, absorbing everything it can and spitting it right back out.
Actually, saying I've not had to deal with the cussing issue yet is something of a misleading statement.  I've had to deal with a wide array of circumstances when it comes to young children cussing. I have my nephew, while helping my father, his Pappy, run cattle, yell a colorful profanity filled statement, something he has heard my father yell, and was repeating it, simply thinking he was helping, not knowing it was wrong. It's one of those nice, innocent circumstance that people enjoy telling the story of and laughing about, while also enforcing on him, that he shouldn't say "those words".  Something you can make fun of in later years, nothing something you feel you should go hide your head over.
Then we have my son, who lives with his mother mostly 12 out of a 14 day span, with small hits and misses of an extra day for myself here and there. He's heard me cuss, he's heard me cuss under my breath about his mother, I won't sit and lie or act like he hasn't, but he's not around it a lot, or any familiar situations.  He's never once repeated me, never once caught me and told me I was saying bad words, to him, he's oblivious that they are anything but words, something I'm grateful of, unsure of its just him or the raising he has with his mother, but hoping it stays that way for a few more years.
Then, we have my step daughter, 8 going on 20, and a masters degree in all things.  She hears me cuss, admittedly, she hears me cuss more then she should, and is aware that select words are "bad words" either by being told by us or the school system. She is so knowledgeable that they're "bad" that she nearly had a breakdown over saying the word "piss" and being told she shouldn't say that, that it was a bad word.  Well, last night a curious event. She asked what the bad words were. Not metaphorically or in any other sense, but just that, asked what they were. So I told her, listed out the 4 lettered kings of cussing, emphasizing the mother of all words, and said hey, these are the worst, don't say them.  I mean how else are you going to learn, right?
I explained to her that they are not good to say and she shouldn't, that even my mom will still get on my case if I get into a good cussing rant, which has been known to happen on occasions, something my step daughter found comical, but also seems to hit home the fact that they're bad, regardless of age or circumstances.
So I mark it off as having 2 out of the 3 taken care of in the cussing department. No worries of a child embarrassing me by throwing an F-bomb in the middle of Walmart or anything like that. One of those small hurdles jumped and small victories celebrated.  Hell yeah!

A geek in a small town: Mt. Vernon USA

Okay, so its time for a little rant I suppose.  I live in Mt. Vernon, Kentucky.  Most people that come to this blog probably don’t even know where that is, or when they read Kentucky, they develop their own opinions rather quickly.  Well the fact is, its a rather small town, not exactly in the rural parts of Eastern Kentucky, but at the same time, not far out of it.  Now of course, some people might find that thought calming and peaceful, and think it sounds like a nice place to be.  I’m not saying its not!!  I’m not condemning Mt. Vernon, or Rockcastle County, or anything like that, far from it!  Sure, it has its flaws, what place doesn’t?  And obviously If parts of me didn’t enjoy living here, I wouldn’t be, but it does makes things more challenging for me at times.
Map picture

Okay, so obviously I’m a geek.  I know, that’s a huge shocker considering the name of the page is Geekasms, so I definitely don’t hide from it or try to dress it up as anything else.  I’m a tech geek, movie geek, comic geek, I hit the high notes of most things in the realm of Geekdom at one point or another, and most that know me wouldn’t argue that point.  Unfortunately, Mt.Vernon doesn’t exactly lend itself to the expansion of certain elements of my geekery.  (I realize I keep making up words using ‘geek’, but hey, I’m entertaining myself!).  There are plenty of examples I can pull from.  One  from a few years back, being Gmail.  I adapted to Gmail as soon as I was able to.  Grabbed an invite from a messaging board, and have never looked back since, and although Google has gradually adapted Gmail with new functions and aspects including chat and others, its been of no use to me because well…..not many people I know have yet to use Gmail, or even consider it, even with me trying to get them to try it.  They have no interest in changing what they already have, and leave me alone in my Gmail Geekground (play on playground….I know, starting to get sad already)

More up to date examples would be things like Twitter, LinkedIn and social iPhone apps.  On Twitter, I have less then 100 followers, even today, and a very small handful of them are actually from Rockcastle County, and even fewer still live anywhere close!  The worst part about that is, I’ve almost reached 1000 tweets!  Those are a whole bunch of lonely tweets, no doubt.  I’m also on LinkedIn.  A website that is obviously picked up in other parts, but no where around me.  I have very few connections on LinkedIn, and nearly all of them come from people I work with, not anyone from home.

Then we have the iPhone.  Yes, many, many adapters to the iPhone, but very little usage in the world of apps I reside in.  No one local uses foursquare at all.  I still play with it, but its more of a self entertainment then anything else.  Even using apps or searches on foursquare or twitter to find users close, its always just me, and people that have traveled  up or down I75.

I live in an area of either very slow adapters, or people that do not adapt at all, while I do my best to be on the front lines and cutting edge of everything going on.  Plus, don’t even get me started on the difficulties of finding graphic design work anywhere close!  (Possible rant for PCS site later on)

So why am I ranting?  I have no idea.  Maybe I hope to get a few sympathetic followers (@Michael_Parsons) or some comments, or I simply have no goal in this but to simply voice my frustration out on the fact that I feel like I’m alone in the world of Geekdom in my general area.  But, it is what it is, and I shall continue to fight the good fight, with my army of 1!!

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Spaghetti Hair

Okay, this just might be with my kids in my home, but I have a feeling this isn’t isolated, so I throw this question out to you:  Why do kids want to put spaghetti in their hair and on top of their heads?!  At least for me, this seems to be the only food that gets the privilege of being carefully and purposefully placed on the top of ones cranium.  Sure, others will be thrown, smashed, played with and anything else those little minds can come up with, but spaghetti, with or without sauce, is thought out, calmly placed.  A calculated action by one so small.

I realize the argument could be made that food manages to make its way into kids hair all the time, and I don’t disagree.  I was just having to clean cookie out from behind Bug’s ear just the other day and wondering how she managed to get it there.  I’m not arguing or questioning that, because that can happen with a simple arm movement or having to scratch ones head.  That is a common occurrence.

No, I’m asking, why is it spaghetti that gets the special treatment of intentionally, not accidently or randomly place, but intentionally place on top of the head?  I cannot being to question one’s motives when it comes to such, but all I can do is submit the follow picture as evidence…

photo


I rest my case your honor.  The Spaghetti Hair Monster is alive and well at the Geekasm household. (Until the bathwater is ran, of course)

Friday, July 23, 2010

The heat…..

I sit and look at the thermostat at 3am, it looks back at me, telling me that it is 80 degrees in my house.  The air conditioner unit is out, something completely and totally out of my control and it still has the ability to make me feel like the biggest loser and failure as a father and provider for my family. 

Why?  Why something, so completely out of my control have such a hold on me?  Simple: Pride.  This is my family, my complete family as this is my weekend to have my son.  So I have an 8, 3, and 1 year old, in a house, with no air conditioning except for two window units I was able to borrow.  Yes, the repair man has already been called and yes I left a message, but still, doesn’t help resolve my self loathing.

See, what you don’t know yet, is that this makes #3 for the air conditioning  to not function as advertised during this summer alone!  We started with being out of freon/coolant, which is fine, we purchase this house as half finished and knew ahead of time that there would be unknown problems the first few years, as we’re unaware of the comings and goings of the property before we moved in.  Problem is, after dropping a few hundred to recharge the unit, it failed again within the week, due to what was described as a crack in the coil.  So, after checking on warranties and such, and being patient for nearly a month, AND dropping over 5 on getting the new unit in, we were set, good to go!  New unit in that works great, electric bill going down with a more efficient unit, everything seems to be going up, then BAM, the new unit shows signs of running low on coolant.  Well that can’t be right can it?  It just froze over for some other reason, right?  Sure!  So, as I left work, being the last one out, I turned the unit off, giving it a rest.  Its been in the low 90s, with rain everyday, so my plan was to come home that evening, after letting the unit rest and defrost, kick it on again and in about an hour or so, be sitting in my nice cool house again. 

Well that was nearly 8 hours ago, and we sit at 80.  Obviously the coolant has found another area to leak its way out, or we have other problems, I will not know until later on in the day, but regardless, I sit here, knowing my family is hot, and it frustrates me beyond understanding.  Something, completely out of my control, has made me feel like I’ve let everyone down and disappointed them all.

Oh well, just chalk it up to another day as the irredeemable dad I suppose

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Corruption of the young...with Wonder Woman #600

So my 8 year old has currently been asking questions regarding collecting.  She wants to collect something, she’s wanting to make something her own.  Basically she’s trying to find who she is and develop her own identity, but currently has trouble letting go of the desire to make everyone around her happy with her.  Well the other day, she just randomly starting sorting through some of my old comic books I have up stairs.  Now first off, you have to understand I used to be a HUGE comic geek back in the day, I mean huge!  Was a heavy collector of all things Spider-man, well before the movies, and I had a great collection too, unfortunately I really don’t have any of it left, through circumstances I’m not proud of at all.  Anyway, she started asking question, like how long did I buy them, where did I buy them, etc. and actually sat down and started reading an issue of JLA.

Well today, I did something that gave me a small spark of pride, and a large chunk of questioning motives.  Fortunately my job takes me many places throughout the state, and when coming home, I was able to pass what used to be my main stop for all things comics back in the day in Somerset, Ky.  The store is Collector’s Comics, and fortunately for myself, the place was still there.  Well I walked in with the determination to find 2-3 comics that would give a good range of what my 8 year old might or might not enjoy reading and/or collecting.  A task that I found was not as smooth and easy as I had hoped, as I found out, and explained to the man working the store, its not that easy to shop for comics for someone else!!

So after much browsing and fighting the urge to buy a large group of books for myself,perez600 I came away with 3, those being Tiny Titans, the current Supergirl (#54 I believe) and the recently released Wonder Woman #600.  I had already read WW through a different means, so I knew the issue, not only being a starting point for a story for her, but also gave her a few separate stories she could read and get a feel for how comics are.

Where this will lead, I have no clue as she hasn’t sat down to read any yet, but already has one of my unused bags and boards to place her WW #600 in once she’s completed with it, and she already plans on going through my books and pulling ones she’d like to look at.  So either I will soon have what will be an avid comic fan (and my new excuse for running to the local store on Weds) or this will be a phase that burns out as quickly as it was ignited.  Only time will tell, so we can only sit back and wait (and read the news headlines coming in from SDCC)

Monday, July 12, 2010

Evolution of the diaper change

I was changing my daughter’s diaper this evening, just like any parent with a young infant would be doing, when it dawned on me.  A process, which should be evolving towards eventual potty training and the disappearance of the diaper, has become something similar to a dance or a wrestling match between myself and the ever elusive Bug!

You may laugh, but think back to when you first get your brand new baby, fresh out of the package.  They’re so fragile, so tiny, you’re almost afraid to touch them, or if you’re holding them, to lay them down, afraid they’ll bruise like a soft peach.  Any action is a delicate processes, including the diaper change.  Especially those first few days, it’s a process all its own.  Your baby is swaddle in their blanket keeping them warm, you have to slowly unwrap them, which eventually just pisses them off, but then you have to take off the small diaper and clean them of their small mess, apply baby powder and a fresh diaper.  A processes, especially while still in the hospital, seems to be enjoyed by grandmothers for whatever reason.  (You might find it strange, but I have stood back and watched a number of different grandmothers all but jump at the chance to change those tiny diapers while at the hospital.  Possibly because they know of the nightmares to come?  Hmmmm….).

Eventually after you get home, your baby grows and you become more comfortable around them, and the diaper changing process, to where your hand/eye coordination is top notch!  You can get your baby’s butt clean and dry before anyone even realizes what you’re doing.  During this time, your baby is still content with simply lying there, possibly fussing, but you feel confident in your diaper changing abilities.  You can wipe a small butt with the best of them, and you zoom through the processes like nothing.  You can change a diaper from nearly any position or situation and still have it looking perfect.  You’re a master of your diaper domain, and you’re not ashamed to stand tall and say it!

Then suddenly, at some point, things change.  So far you have been making forward progress, getting more efficient, knowing your baby’s patterns, and when you finally have it down to where you can effortlessly change a diaper in the dark, BAM!!  They turn into the Ric Flair of the infant world!  Turning, squirming, screaming, grabbing, slinging, throwing, absolutely anything and everything they can do to try and prevent you from either removing the diaper, or cleaning them.  What used to be a simple process for just you, now requires 3 Navy Seals, a tranquilizer gun and a spot light!  And if they have a diaper rash and you have to put on any cream….oh boy!  All I can say is “God speed brave soul.”

What I don’t get is, why?!  They’re getting older, the messes are getting bigger and well you’d think they’d want it off them.  Only it seems like the opposite.  You can have your baby girl in your arms, loving on you, being happy and smiling, until she realizes what you plan on doing to do, at that point, the horns come out, the bell rings to start the match, and ITS ON!!  Don’t get me wrong, sometimes she’s still my perfect little girl, but typically….shew!  And I realize some might be laughing, saying its just a normal thing, and I’m not saying its not.  Its just, even though I have 3 kids, this is the first one I’ve really been around where I’m having to change diapers everyday, and well….the behavior just seems backwards to me.

US8YNS9Y5N2D

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Ballard Parsons

This was written by my uncle John and originally published in the June 10th, 2010 edition of the Mt. Vernon Signal.  As it covers a subject I have previously wrote about, I wanted to post it here because I feel the two compliment each other, showing how Ballard touch multiple generations the same way, showing what a truly special person he really was.
On Saturday, June 12 we will celebrate the 20th “Ballard’s Day” in Wildie. Ballard’s birthday is June14, he would have been 70 years old. This is a pitch-in meal and everyone is invited, you don’t have to bring anything to attend, just yourself.

Ballard Parsons was born on June 14, 1940. In the summer of 1952 he was helping his Dad haul milk and bale hay. He was already driving both the truck and tractor and was on his way to becoming a farmer. He was a big and strong 12 year old boy. This was about to change.

Around the first of July Ballard began to get sick. His parents thought he had a cold or the flu. His younger sister Libby was sick too. Ballard began to have trouble keeping his balance and he stumbled a lot. This was really out of the ordinary for him because he was such a strong young boy. By July 4, he couldn’t walk. Kenneth Stewart, his cousin, came by to check on him and immediately loaded him in the car and went to Mt. Vernon to find Dr. George Griffith. Dr. Griffith met Ballard, Kenneth and Ballard’s Dad, Shirley Parsons at his office.

Without delay Dr. Griffith sent Ballard to Berea Hospital and asked about any illness in other family members. When he found out that Ballard’s sister, Libby, was sick too, he ordered her brought to his office. When he examined her he sent her to the Berea Hospital too.

What the family and Kenneth Stewart feared was unfortunately true. Both Ballard and Libby had contracted infantile paralysis, or polio. Ballard had reached the critical stage, but Libby’s had been caught early. Libby was treated and sent home, Ballard was not so lucky.

From the hospital in Berea Ballard was sent to St. Joseph hospital in Lexington. The disease had already done a lot of damage to Ballard’s strong body. He was losing use of his muscles and they began to waste away. He was also losing his ability to breath on his own.

Ballard was sent from St. Joseph to Cardinal Hill Hospital in Lexington for treatment. Cardinal Hill was almost brand new then. It was built especially to treat people with polio, mostly children. The money to build the hospital was from the “March of Dimes” campaign. This was a fund raising campaign to treat and find a cure for polio that almost every child in school participated in. You got a card with so many slots to place dimes in. When you filled that card up with dimes it was sent to the March of Dimes. It has been said that the March of Dimes should get most of the credit for conquering polio, it certainly saved Ballard’s life.

Ballard spent an entire year in Cardinal Hill. In order to breath he was placed in an “iron lung”. This was a huge device that his body was placed in with only his head outside of it. By mechanical means it caused his lungs to inflate and deflate and in effect, breathe for him. During this time Ballard was also given therapy to teach his body to breathe again on its own, the primary goal at that time was to get him off the iron lung.

Ballard was able to breathe on his own by the summer of 1953 and he came home.
He was in a wheelchair and he could only move his left arm and his right leg, both very little.

A couple of years later his Dad, Uncle Shirly to all of us nephews and cousins, bought Joe Bullen’s store in Wildie. Ballard ran that store every day but Sunday from then until he died in 2003. Here is where the real story of Ballard Parsons begins for me.

I speak for many people that grew up and/or lived in Wildie. Ballard’s store was the place to be. When I was very young it was Uncle Shirley’s store and I went there almost every day. If it was in the summer and school was out I went two or three times a day to talk to Ballard and just loaf. When school started back I would go after school and usually I would go at night with my Dad, because everybody in Wildie came to the store to loaf and exchange gossip. When my older brother, Tommy, was still home he loafed at the store too, when my younger brothers, Mark and Lynn, got old enough they then learned the art of loafing at Ballard’s from professionals.

Ballard would sit there in his wheelchair and be the center of all the conversations. There was a good reason he was in that position, it was because he was always the smartest person in the store and he knew more about what was being talked about than everybody else. He was never a pretender about what he knew and he was never smug, he was just smart. Ballard could add numbers in his head as quick as a calculator. When people bought groceries from him he would add up the total simply by the customer holding up the item bought. It didn’t matter how many items were bought, Ballard was never wrong in his addition. He was also the best checker and Rook player I have ever seen.

Ballard was my cousin. I loved him as much as anyone could love a cousin. I spent a lot of time with him over the years and I will never feel like one second of that time was wasted. He was always happy and he was positive in his outlook. He appreciated hearing a good joke and he was good enough at telling them that you would laugh until your belly hurt. He loved bluegrass music and you could often walk in on him singing along with the radio. For all of Ballard’s many talents, and he had more than most, singing was not one of them. But he loved to sing and that was all that mattered.

Ballard and my brother Tommy taught me to love the Cincinnati Reds and the Kentucky Wildcats. They both loved these teams and when Tommy went to the store they talked endlessly about them, depending on the season. I always felt lucky to be there just to hear what I thought was their expert opinion. The first teams I remember rooting for were the 1956 Cincinnati Reds and the 1958 Kentucky Wildcats. The ’56 Reds team had great hitting and poor pitching. It was Frank Robinson’s rookie season and he was voted rookie of the year in the National League. Johnny Coffey and William Henry Branaman (Ballard’s uncle) took Tommy and Ballard to Cincinnati to watch the Reds play that year. The ’58 Wildcats won the NCAA that year. We listened to the championship game on the radio in the back of Uncle Shirley’s store.

Ballard was the best farmer around, and he never left the wheelchair in the store. After Uncle Shirley died in 1970 Ballard helped his brother Donnie with the farm. For well over thirty years neither Donnie nor any other farmer who loafed in the store did anything without first consulting Ballard. He was always right too.

As I got older and went to the Army and then to school, I didn’t get to Ballard’s store as often as I had in the past. But, after I got out of school and settled back in the county, I started going to see Ballard almost every Saturday. When I could I would take my girls with me, I simply wanted them to know Ballard and his special place in the world. Some of my most favorite Saturday memories are when my three brothers and me would sit with Ballard for two or three hours. We ate our lunch there. We would eat pickled bologna, Vienna sausage, potted meat or whatever else was on the menu. .

Ballard died in 2003, just before my Mother did. My trips to Wildie were reduced in number greatly. I still go to church there and I still go to see my sister and brother-in-law, but a great part of the place is missing.

It goes without saying that my parents and my grandparents were great influences in my life. But, I can say without a doubt in my mind that Ballard Parsons was one of the greatest positive influences I’ve had. I don’t know how many times I have gone to see Ballard when I was feeling down or a bit depressed. All it cost me to feel better was a pop and bag of potato chips alone with a conversation with my cousin. I always thought if Ballard could be as happy as he is why I can’t be just a little happy myself. And, as I write this I now realize I had those thoughts and didn’t even realize at the time I was thinking like that. It happened so much it became an unnoticed habit. What a blessing I experienced by growing up around Ballard Parsons. I am sure I speak for a whole lot of other people too.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

iPhone Baby

I have had the Wordpress App on my iPhone forever now and have never attempted to create a post from it, never had come upon a reason I couldn't wait until I got to my laptop. Well partially out of boredom and curiosity I found an excuse to create a post.
I've posted about my baby girl playing with my phone, and as her geeky father, trying to find new ways to entertain her. I've even posted reviews on some of the apps I've had the most success with. Well as proof of concept, I snapped this picture of Abby playing Peekaboo Barn on my wife's iPhone while stopping at a red light. I just find it entertaining how a 1 year old can be more aware of how to use a technical device then many adults (example: my parents).
Although I'm still up in the air on how much technology is too much technology when it comes to young children, I couldn't help but share this snap shot of my bug. Father's pride I guess.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

iPhones and infants

I've realized that there is a growing demand for information for apps for what I'm calling iPhone Babies. I'm in the process of testing other apps with my baby girl (but Peekaboo Barn is still the take all home run).  What I'm looking for are suggestions for apps.  What does your baby enjoy, what gets their attention?  Paid or free, doesn't matter, I'm curious to see what other magic apps are out there for us tech savvy parents.  Feel free to comment below on what apps you feel fall under the category of "Must Have".

Friday, April 30, 2010

The little things….

Last night, a Lexington Police officer was killed in the line of duty by a hit and run while he was investigating a call.  He was 27 and a father.  Its a sad and tragic story that has been on the news all morning. [news article]  Even though I had already processed the story, thought about how selfless those men and women are, swallowed the distaste for the coward of a man who did this, nothing struck me more profoundly and brought me to such soul searching until I saw this on facebook posted by Kristen Pflum, a reporter for LEX 18.

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Reading this caused my heart to sink, something I even acknowledged with a comment on this status saying as much.  Its hard to believe that sometimes I do forget how much I wanted to be a Dad.  Its one of the reasons I never fought to save my first marriage, something I’ve never admitted to until now, on this rarely read blog.  We were in two different places in life, and maybe it was selfish of me, but I wanted kids, I knew I did, I wanted to be a Dad so bad, to be able to feel that love, and when she said she didn’t, it changed my whole perspective, it changed everything for me in regards to her.

Then when Canaan came around, so many grey clouds and questions with that, its hard to imagine it could have been any more of a mess.  I don’t hide the fact that I regret not having the chance to be involved more when he was first born, even more so as I have watched Abby grow, but I don’t regret fighting and being determined to be a part of my son’s life.  All the times I cried and was upset, fighting and struggling with his mom, thinking that it would be easier to not be involved.  My heart would never let me do that, I might have thought it at my lowest points, but I don’t regret ever making the decisions I’ve made, I question them sure.  What little I am able to be involved in his life right now, of course I question if the little he gets to see me is actually a good thing for him or if it just confuses him and makes some things worse.  Why wouldn’t I?  He’s my son, I want the best for him, and even though it might hurt me, I want him happy, and I seriously question if I’m selfish sometimes when it comes to wanting to be his father more then I am now.  He has grown every time I’ve picked him up, he breaks my heart every time he asks when he gets to go back to his mom, or not telling me he loves me, or cries when I come to pick him up, but I would never change the fact that I’m his father.  I never for even a moment not want to be his Daddy.

And even though he’s my first, and I have Katlyn, who for someone that doesn’t share an ounce of blood with me will end up being like me more then my two biological kids, and challenges me as a parent and a person everyday, and I love her with everything in me, my heart is with my Bug.  I have 3 kids, and I’ve only got to be around 1 during their first year, to watch them grow, get teeth, try to walk to say Daddy, to yell DaDa, to just mumble it, partially because that’s all she can say.  To hear them cry and laugh to watch her struggle with something new, and see the determination in her beautiful blue eyes.  She has been everything I wanted and looked forward to in regards to being a parent.  And if anyone that reads this, thinks I’m putting Canaan and Katlyn down, or saying they’re less of anything, I’m not.  I’d do anything for any of my kids.  My kids are my heart and my life.  I would probably surprise people how many times a week I sit and wonder if I’m doing the right thing, if I’m a good or a bad parent.  I have a lot of alone time, a lot of driving, and they’re always a constant thought.  Wondering how I can connect more with Katlyn as she gets older and I more and more become “Dad”.  How I can connect more with Canaan in terms of father and son, something I feel I fail at because of what little time I have.  They’re both a challenge and heartbreak for me because I do feel I let them down.  Abby is just the better reminder of why I wanted to be a parent, why I looked forward to it and what makes me so determined to be a good parent, a good man and roll model for all three.  I’d do anything for them, and even though I have to get onto them, and their behavior drives me insane at times, I cherish ever single second and already wish I would rewind time, or free time in a single moment.  I feel guilty losing sight of that.  With all the stress and rushing that life gives me I could say its easy for me to forget the little things, but that’s shameful to when its the little things that drive me.  That get me to strive to be a better man.  To be someone they would be proud to call Dad.  The little things that are the most important in life are the same that are so easily taken for granted.  Little moments in their life as they grow, the joy in just one of their cheese tooth filled or joyful 3 tooth smiles, the satisfaction of accomplishing one of your life goals…and like being able to come home to the love of your children…

If you can’t tell by the rambling, my children are my life and soul.  Everything I’ve ever done and will ever do, is and will forever be for and about them.  I hate that such a horrible tragedy brought to light how selfish and unappreciative I’ve been of the little things lately.  I hate that a son will now grow up without his Dad because his Dad had it in him to be a great man.  I hate that a father won’t be able to throw a ball to his boy, or to be in the stand for his son to see as he stands out in a ball field.  To carry him on his shoulders, or to be there as a “man” the first time a girl breaks his heart.

In all the politics, stress, debt and struggle we go through as adults in everyday life, its scary we forget to cherish the little things that keep us going.  Something Brayden will never have to struggle with.

God Bless Bryan Durman.

2 of my “little things” after dropping off their big sister at school.  4/30/10

The little things….

Last night, a Lexington Police officer was killed in the line of duty by a hit and run while he was investigating a call.  He was 27 and a father.  Its a sad and tragic story that has been on the news all morning. [news article]  Even though I had already processed the story, thought about how selfless those men and women are, swallowed the distaste for the coward of a man who did this, nothing struck me more profoundly and brought me to such soul searching until I saw this on facebook posted by Kristen Pflum, a reporter for LEX 18.

image

Reading this caused my heart to sink, something I even acknowledged with a comment on this status saying as much.  Its hard to believe that sometimes I do forget how much I wanted to be a Dad.  Its one of the reasons I never fought to save my first marriage, something I’ve never admitted to until now, on this rarely read blog.  We were in two different places in life, and maybe it was selfish of me, but I wanted kids, I knew I did, I wanted to be a Dad so bad, to be able to feel that love, and when she said she didn’t, it changed my whole perspective, it changed everything for me in regards to her.

Then when Canaan came around, so many grey clouds and questions with that, its hard to imagine it could have been any more of a mess.  I don’t hide the fact that I regret not having the chance to be involved more when he was first born, even more so as I have watched Abby grow, but I don’t regret fighting and being determined to be a part of my son’s life.  All the times I cried and was upset, fighting and struggling with his mom, thinking that it would be easier to not be involved.  My heart would never let me do that, I might have thought it at my lowest points, but I don’t regret ever making the decisions I’ve made, I question them sure.  What little I am able to be involved in his life right now, of course I question if the little he gets to see me is actually a good thing for him or if it just confuses him and makes some things worse.  Why wouldn’t I?  He’s my son, I want the best for him, and even though it might hurt me, I want him happy, and I seriously question if I’m selfish sometimes when it comes to wanting to be his father more then I am now.  He has grown every time I’ve picked him up, he breaks my heart every time he asks when he gets to go back to his mom, or not telling me he loves me, or cries when I come to pick him up, but I would never change the fact that I’m his father.  I never for even a moment not want to be his Daddy.

And even though he’s my first, and I have Katlyn, who for someone that doesn’t share an ounce of blood with me will end up being like me more then my two biological kids, and challenges me as a parent and a person everyday, and I love her with everything in me, my heart is with my Bug.  I have 3 kids, and I’ve only got to be around 1 during their first year, to watch them grow, get teeth, try to walk to say Daddy, to yell DaDa, to just mumble it, partially because that’s all she can say.  To hear them cry and laugh to watch her struggle with something new, and see the determination in her beautiful blue eyes.  She has been everything I wanted and looked forward to in regards to being a parent.  And if anyone that reads this, thinks I’m putting Canaan and Katlyn down, or saying they’re less of anything, I’m not.  I’d do anything for any of my kids.  My kids are my heart and my life.  I would probably surprise people how many times a week I sit and wonder if I’m doing the right thing, if I’m a good or a bad parent.  I have a lot of alone time, a lot of driving, and they’re always a constant thought.  Wondering how I can connect more with Katlyn as she gets older and I more and more become “Dad”.  How I can connect more with Canaan in terms of father and son, something I feel I fail at because of what little time I have.  They’re both a challenge and heartbreak for me because I do feel I let them down.  Abby is just the better reminder of why I wanted to be a parent, why I looked forward to it and what makes me so determined to be a good parent, a good man and roll model for all three.  I’d do anything for them, and even though I have to get onto them, and their behavior drives me insane at times, I cherish ever single second and already wish I would rewind time, or free time in a single moment.  I feel guilty losing sight of that.  With all the stress and rushing that life gives me I could say its easy for me to forget the little things, but that’s shameful to when its the little things that drive me.  That get me to strive to be a better man.  To be someone they would be proud to call Dad.  The little things that are the most important in life are the same that are so easily taken for granted.  Little moments in their life as they grow, the joy in just one of their cheese tooth filled or joyful 3 tooth smiles, the satisfaction of accomplishing one of your life goals…and like being able to come home to the love of your children…

If you can’t tell by the rambling, my children are my life and soul.  Everything I’ve ever done and will ever do, is and will forever be for and about them.  I hate that such a horrible tragedy brought to light how selfish and unappreciative I’ve been of the little things lately.  I hate that a son will now grow up without his Dad because his Dad had it in him to be a great man.  I hate that a father won’t be able to throw a ball to his boy, or to be in the stand for his son to see as he stands out in a ball field.  To carry him on his shoulders, or to be there as a “man” the first time a girl breaks his heart.

In all the politics, stress, debt and struggle we go through as adults in everyday life, its scary we forget to cherish the little things that keep us going.  Something Brayden will never have to struggle with.

God Bless Bryan Durman.

2 of my “little things” after dropping off their big sister at school.  4/30/10

Saturday, March 27, 2010

A geek as a father….undermining the imagination?

With the weather finally starting to warm up, and thinking back to how the kids were last year, I’m beginning to wonder if I do more damage then good.  I’ll admit that I enjoy electronic toys, if I had more money I’d probably have more, heck I’m even considering getting an iPad, and its partially just for me to have, and another part, I think of how my kids could play with it and entertain them, and I seriously sit and question if that’s good or not.

I remember when I was a kid, when it warmed up, I’d go just walking around the woods, building forts, or just finding random things to do that would keep me busy until I was yelled for.  I remember always wanting to go play in the creek, building dams with rocks, or thinking and considering going back into the cave at Granny’s. (Something I have yet to do, but at 29 still considering it this summer).  I wonder if being as technology obsessed as I can be has rubbed off on them in a bad way.  I just don’t see the happiness or imagination in their eyes like I felt that I had.  It takes effort to get them to go outside and play, but even then, its standardized.  They aren’t using their imagination.  You ask them to play a certain way, or play like their doing something and they have a blank stair.  Their imagination is more like a trained muscle now, only knowing movements that its grown accustomed to.  If it doesn’t involve the Wii, or the Leapster, or something on TV, it just seems like they draw a blank.  The joys of imagining being a superhero turtle, or drawing your latest crazy space monster, or pretending that you’re building a fort to protect yourself from the invading army, all that has faded away it seems.  That don’t have that.

I mean sure, the argument could be made that its good that they have a chance to be associated with all this technology.  That it will benefit them down the road, as they get older and become more dependent on technology, but where do you draw the line to separate it being beneficial, and being harmful?  I see my little girl, playing with her Little People, and you can see, even at 10 months, her imagination is starting to fire up, while at 3 1/2, my son’s imagination is a spark, barely able to break past things he has already experienced or seen on TV, and at 8, Katlyn’s seems to be more that trained muscle, only having an imagination that is limited to things she’s already associated with, never being able to break outside the box.

As parents, you always want to give your children a happier childhood then you had, but having more isn’t always better.  I just feel that the numbing and the watering down of their imaginations is a harmful side effect of having a Dad that is a tech geek, and its something I feel is hurting them now rather then benefitting them.  I just hope I can find a way to rectify it, without causing more harm. 

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Bug’s First Valentine’s Day

Well my Bug’s first Valentine’s Day has come and gone, and although it went off without too much happening, it was a good day.  With only being 9 months old, I didn’t see the option of getting Abby very much beyond just a big ole stuffed animal, which seemed to be the mistake.  I got Abby a big pink bear holding a heart that simply said “Love” with the year on one of its feet, while I got Katlyn a heart filled with Reese’s Peanut Butter cups, a stuffed gorilla and some other small things.  Well Abby just wasn’t happy with this, eyeing Katlyn’s chocolate and gorilla.  Eventually she did get a taste of her first peanut butter cup (Daddy is a huge softy, I can’t help it) but until that point, and at times after, she was just cranky, and I had fun playing it off as acting like a diva.  At 9 months, she’s already upset that she didn’t get flowers or jewelry for Valentine’s Day.  LOL

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Thursday, February 11, 2010

Madelynn Kate

Today came the arrival of my first niece; Madelynn Kate.  Weighing 7lbs 10oz and 20 inches long, partially causing me to realize how small my Bug really was…

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Fortunately I managed to be at the hospital when she arrived.  There was something almost surreal being at the same place I was 9 months ago, being where my brother was; in the delivery room and nursery.

So to do my very best at eventually winning the favorite uncle award.(a guy can dream!) I’ve been working on her nursery.  After Abby’s nursery, I’m more comfortable working in Madelynn’s, in a way that almost makes me feel guilty.  If I was allowed I’d probably go back and work on Abby’s some more, but I know better!!  LOL

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Showing progress from first night to second.  Including tweaking of the castle and towers, adding an additional flag and starting on the surrounding stars.  Still not happy with the overall look though.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

A tooth, a temp, and a Dr visit.

So, its been a wild couple of days.  We knew Abby was getting close to having her first tooth, and we had confirmation yesterday as it finally broke through.  As many babies and small kids I’ve been around, I’ve never been around one when they were cutting teeth and were in the miserable stage of it, and that includes Canaan.  Well I finally had a taste of it with Abby last night, and it broke her Daddy’s heart.  Just the painful whimpers and cries and me being powerless to do anything beyond Baby Orajel, I’ve already felt powerless like this regarding my Bug twice and it gets worse as time goes on.  Well I chose to stay up with her most of the night because she was waking up every few hours for a bit, and I wanted to make sure I kept Tylenol in her.  I knew she had a temperature, and I’ve always heard about the symptoms of a baby cutting teeth, so I never thought anything of it.  Well I learned today that her temp shouldn’t have gone much above 99, that it should have remained a low grade fever.  Sometimes this learning curve kills me….

Well today got worse.  Jaq kept her and said her temp kept staying up and she stayed cranky, so she called the doctor who requested her to bring her in.  The fear was that she was having a problem with her kidneys again, similar to when she got sick and dehydrated a couple of months back and was put in UK.  So they take urine, they take blood, same as before, and just like before, her kidneys come back ok, no bacteria in her urine, but her white blood count is up, showing an infection, they just are unsure of what is the cause.  Now note that UK never determined what caused Abby to get sick the last time too, which might I add has me a bit worried.

So, I’ve had a sick, weak baby girl, all she’s wanted to do is be held, but does her very best to give Daddy a smile every once in awhile.  We go back to the doctor in the morning.

And to top it all off, they said she had one of her top teeth coming through too.  So we have at least 2 teeth breaking through on top of an unknown infection, high temps, and the sounds of a 9 month old’s misery.

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Friday, February 5, 2010

Strangers?

I’ve started to realize that I tend to write late at night when I can sleep, when my mind is racing or like tonight, my back is bothering me and I’m tired of rolling around trying to get comfortable.  Tonight is both though, at one point when I got comfortable with a pillow between my knees taking the pressure off my lower back I started thinking back on today and began to think, which lead to over thinking, which lead to worrying.  Here is the dilemma at hand; my son and I are basically strangers to one another.

I’m unfamiliar with what makes him tick beyond what he shows when he is here, and that is mostly consumed with playing with his sisters, his trucks and wanting to always have what he wants to watch on TV, and I’m not far from just a guy he calls “Daddy” and he sees every couple of weeks for a few days.  He doesn’t know what I do, he doesn’t know what its like to sit and watch a ball game with me, beyond UK he isn’t aware of who my favorite teams are. (Cincinnati Reds and Bengals for those keeping score at home)  Its honestly a bit disturbing when I sat down and started thinking of all this.  It causes me to feel like I’ve let him down, and let myself down.  That I’ve broken promises that I made to myself (another post for another time), which just leads to more questions, and more fears and doubts.  He went nearly 10 months of his life without truly knowing me as his father, and still yet rarely gets to know what it feels like to have me around.  Is that helpful or hurtful for him?  Does he know how much I love him and cherish him?  or will he find reasons to resent me when he gets older?  Just some of the thoughts and questions swimming in my mind when it comes to my son.  He is worth every second I get to have him, but it is becoming more and more of an internal struggle.  I only hope I always do right by him.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

OOOOH…C! A! T! S! CATS! CATS! CATS!

I’ll come out and admit it right now, I’m a huge Kentucky Wildcats fan!  Football and basketball, I’m either listening or watching every game.  So of course when I found out I had a son, the thoughts of ever sports fan ran through my mind; watching games together, playing games together, getting him pumped up, the whole father + son thing.  Well, as my luck goes, I don’t quite get that, only having him Thursday to Saturday every other weekend puts a damper on watching a lot of sports, and I realize in the upcoming years, being able to be involved in him playing summer sports will be limited.  Honestly, watching my brother get to have all the things with my nephew that I want to have with my son makes me a little jealous, but none of that is truly what gets to me.  What gets to me?  His mom is a Tennessee fan.  We are talking a Rocky Top singing, orange wearing, rubbing it in my face Tennessee fan, and believe me, I do my best to deprogram, but you can only do so much!!

Well, thank goodness, my daughter comes along, and is an immediate sports fan for whatever reason.  Sitting watching football games, and almost grunting and fussing along with the game.  So of course, I take off running with this, and even before she can talk, she knows who she cheers for!!  I finally broke down and jailbroke my iPhone 3G the night before, partially to give myself the ability to record video so I can share this.  This isn’t staged at all, it doesn’t matter what she’s doing, if you start saying the cheer “oooohhh……c! a! t! s! CATS! CATS! CATS!” she gets that huge beautiful smile on her face before you finish spelling cats.  By the time football season comes back around, I’ll have her cheering away!!






Saturday, January 23, 2010

Making an impact

Every other weekend, I get my son for 48 hours.  Thursday evening to Saturday evening.  A small window to make any sort of impact or influence on his young life.  This weekend was another one of those weekends, and it just seems like it all is weighing down on me more.  I’ve slowly gotten accustomed to him growing up a lot on me in the 12 days between his visits with me, but I can’t stand not knowing my son.  I realized Friday, I didn’t even know what his favorite cartoons were.  I listened to him sing the entire theme song to a show on the Disney Channel, and it just registered with me.  Something so simple was able to hit me like a brick wall.

There are so many things involved in his life I don’t have any influence on, and you can tell he has a lack of male influence.  It eats at me because I feel like I fail him in ways or I let him down.  Its hard, wanting to give your son the world, allow him to have everything he wants and experience anything and everything he can, and that be limited by courts, rules, his mother, time limits.

It dawned on me today, that Abby is almost the age Canaan was when i finally started getting visitation.  I look at her, and see all the things she’s experienced, seen how she’s grown and how she looks at the world with her beautiful wondering eyes, taking in everything.  Canaan used to be that way, but it seems now, that excitement isn’t there, and it makes me wonder about his life, and what goes on.  I would never trade my son, or any of my kids for anything in the world, they’re my heart and my purpose in life.  I just wish I felt like I had more of an impact on his.  I just miss him, and I’ll miss him everyday for the next 12, looking forward to when I can pick him up again, and then dreading when I have to take him back, but that’s the cycle we’re in right now, and I’m just grateful I have him and am able to have the time I do.

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