I am listening to Taylor Swift against my will as my office is right next to Charli's bedroom. I secretly wish we had invested in one of those high tech baby monitors, so I could see if she is singing into her hair brush in front of the mirror. There are pictures all over my office of Charli in various stages of cuteness, pre-tweenzilla. She would almost always smile willingly for pictures back then...now she smirks in utter exasperation.
There is a family picture of us when she was three, that hangs on the wall above my filing cabinet. Mark looks amazing. Charli and I are wearing these really pretty turquoise outfits. We almost look like those mothers and daughters from the catalog advertisements of the super happy families, with their creepy matchy-matchy clothes. I have no idea what I was thinking! If you look really close you can see my eyes are red and puffy. This was the first family picture we had taken after my Dad passed. It was the most horrible day. We had buried him on October 4, 2006 and that picture was taken at the end of October that same year. The picture was taken for the church bulletin and we had a few group photos with my mom, sister, and my grandma. I refused to buy one of those pictures. The day we went to view them I actually had to excuse myself from the table because I had a major meltdown. My body racked with sobs and I couldn't catch my breath. The sales lady was going on and on about how nice the pictures were and blah, blah, blah. I wanted to smack her upside the head. I know it wasn't very "christian like" to feel that way but I know my Ten Commandments and thou shalt not lie is one of them. It isn't really that I dislike the picture. In fact I find it pretty funny, because Mark and I are looking directly at the camera and Charli is looking off to the side laughing at my sister who was trying to get her to laugh but Tracy wasn't standing behind the camera, so Charli is looking off to the side. The picture hangs in my office but out of my line of sight. I have been thinking a lot about my dad and my mind has been a merry-go-round.
My friend Patty is pregnant and she is craving donuts tonight of all things. You see, poor Patty has been ill with morning, noon and night sickness. I can so relate. I remember all to well what that was like. Patty and her donuts got me thinking about my dad and his ribs.
I was very sick when I was carrying Charli and I would throw up on average 20 times a day. I am serious ( I counted every day for about a week because I was curious) and I promise I am not lying for dramatic effect. I was incredibly ill. When I was about 5 1/2 months pregnant or so, we went out to my parents on a Friday night for dinner. My Dad told my mom to find out what I wanted for dinner before we came out. He wouldn't say much to me about it but he was starting to get worried because aside from the baby bump I was losing weight and I couldn't keep anything down. I told Mom to tell Dad I wanted ribs. My Dad could grill with the best of 'em. His ribs were out of this world. I ate, and I ate and I ATE some more. My parents were sure I was going to be sicker than I had ever been. You want to know something? I never threw up once after dinner that night or the next day. The morning, noon, night, and every second in between sickness started to subside. There is one thing I find very uncanny. When I was pregnant, orange juice made me sick as a dog. Charli doesn't drink orange juice except maybe a sip or 2 a few times a year, because as she says "I'm not a fan", which she says about a lot of things these days. The child however loves bar-b-que ribs. She can put them away like a grown man. It is quite impressive, though everything in moderation, so she doesn't get to indulge often.
My advice to Patty was to eat the donuts. Hopefully, she can keep them down and if her precious blessing grows up to own a Krisy Kreme franchise or become CEO of Dunkin' Donuts...well at least there will be free donuts for Sunday service. :)