Daddysredhead
Posts: 23574
Joined: 11/6/2005 From: Northern (yet still part of the South) Virginia Status: offline
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I admit that I was woken up by a very animated Thing 2 who needed the rat's nest brushed out of her hair this morning. She has plans for the day and was up before anyone else, making sure that her Dad was up to go teach his class, and that she made the little activity bus that was coming around to pick up the kids who were going. She amazes me. I swear she's really about 37. I admit that I am sending prayers and comforting hugs to Tulip and Angel. I understand that helpless feeling. My similar experience was on 9/11, when my sister was headed to a meeting at the Pentagon, and my Manny worked for United and was supposed to fly out, but I didn't know on which flight. I remember feeling scared out of my mind because the phone system was shut down up here for hours and hours and I couldn't get in touch with anyone to find out if they were ok until much later in the day. I admit that crying in front of our kids is ok, Tulip. It shows them that even the strongest mommies can be stretched to our limit, and that God gave us these emotions to speak when words fail us. My babies have seen me cry so often. They just know that I'm human. *hugs my beautiful friend* I admit that I have to run some errands for the office this morning. I think it's a baseball hat kind of day (at least for right now) because I'm not ready to get all "spiffy" just to come back here and do laundry and clean house. I admit that Thing 1 is my gentle giant. He never fails to tell me, his dad, or Thing 2 that he loves us before he goes out with his friends, and will even come over and give me a kiss on the cheek in front of his little band of roustabouts. I admit that he has a quiet confidence about him now that I never, in my wildest dreams, thought I would see. He went from being the oddball kid who got bullied for daring to dance to the beat of a different drummer with the music he liked and the movies he liked, etc., to being a rather buff, 6 feet tall, pleasant and respectful young man, who just happens to be strong enough to "out-thug" pretty much anyone who should come up against him. I admit that my Manny told me this week (after we were watching him lift weights and do his martial arts training) that he would not like to take a punch from him. I laughed and called my Manny a punk. He quickly responded with, "Have you seen how fast his punches come? He could break bones just from dumb luck." I admit that, for a "broken family," I think we do amazingly well.
< Message edited by Daddysredhead -- 4/30/2011 7:18:22 AM >
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Founding Member, Clan of the Scarlet O'Hair-a's Do not challenge me to a battle of wits & come to fight unarmed. Are you really that stupid? ~ Bless your heart 13th doughnut
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