Thankful for our time

It's just about 2am on this cold Thanksgiving morning. I got off work at 1am, after a fun filled day working in a grocery store around this holiday. Always an adventure. I'm sitting down to write as my mind is still wide awake even though my body is ready for bed. Have to do something to even out the score between mind and body.

My house is quiet. Not the normal 2am quiet though. My wife and girls are all spending the night at my in-laws and I, for the first time in a long time, have the house to myself without an alarm to wake me up in the morning. Who knows how long I'll sleep? I need to pick up a few hours, but I'm betting it won't happen. I actually have a harder time sleeping without my wife and children around. They are my comfort.

When they are not around, I'm not enjoying the "peace and quiet", or whatnot. I actually miss them and think about them almost the whole time. Part of this I know happens because of my issues with mortality. For those who don't know, age, numbers, time, and such, scares me greatly. I fear time. When my girls aren't around I feel like I've lost time with them. They'll never be as young as they are in this exact moment. I also dwell on how I'm once breath closer to death, how we all are. These thoughts race through my mind even when I'm busy and my kids are around me, but they come at me in a full court press when things are quiet or when I'm trying to sleep at night. These thoughts are the biggest reason why I struggle to sleep.

My Mom died at 38. I'm 33. I know I'm not her and that everyone has a different story, but I always think about how young she was when she died and how I'm almost at that age. Because of this I have a hard time really enjoying things that should normally be fun if they are time consuming. For example, I like video games. A lot. However, I almost always have guilt right after playing them by thinking about how that was (insert time played here) and I'll never have that part of my life back. Even when I play from 11pm to midnight and I wouldn't be doing anything else anyways, I immediately think about how that's one hour of my life gone, and for what? I do that with reading, watching TV, driving places, and so on. I know, I'm broken.

I can't shake these thoughts though. I feel like life is too short as is, but I feel like maybe mine will be shorter than average. Not being cryptic or anything, it's just the way my mind works. But because of this, it's the reason why I try to take on more parenting responsibilities. By nature, I am a nurturer. I have the need to take care of people. I'm sure this comes from being the oldest and having to always watch over my younger siblings. But because of my fear of time and natural parenting instincts, I want to be around my kids as much as possible. I've set my work schedule so that I work weekends and nights while Jill works the Mon-Fri 9-5 gig. Sure it steals time away from seeing Jill, but it allows us to raise our kids and not a daycare.

It's not easy. Eleanor and I are still trying to get on the same page. She still doesn't trust me like she does her Mom. She likes me enough, but I'm not who she wants. She wants her Mom. It's made for some really tough days recently. It broke me down to the point I cried. I felt like maybe my baby and I won't connect. I know that it's rubbish. It took Lucy some time to be my buddy too, and we made it. I just thought it'd be easier the second time around. It's not.

For half a minute though I thought about maybe going back to my 9-5 style job. Maybe I'm not cut out to be home with the kids all the time. Jill makes it look so easy, even though I know it's hard on her too. But just as those thoughts crept in my mind, my fear of time hit me like a ton of bricks. Before I know it Ellie will be grown. She'll never be this small again. Suck it up big boy. Love your babies. Be there for them. Who knows how much time is left? I know that the time that we do have moves way too fast.

So on this Thanksgiving morning I can say, without fear, that I am truly thankful for the time I have spent with my family, and for all the time we will have together in the future. Jillian, Lucille, and Eleanor, you are my world. I am thankful that I get to call Jill my wife, and Lucy and Ellie my girls. I will continue to make sure that you three are my priority in life and that the time we do have is spent wisely. I will do better at enjoying the moment and not focusing so much on time, in the negative manner. Let's spend our time together how we choose and let's make more memories! With that said, Disney World anyone? ;)

Being a parent

Being a parent can be hard. There are the obvious things. Things like having your time stretched as thin as possible. Things like getting yelled at by a 3 foot dictator. Things like being tired. ALL THE TIME.

But then there are the things that are hard that people don't normally think about. Things like punishing a naughty child. Things like handling a sick kid. Things like wiping someone else's boogers and behind.

I wouldn't trade being a father for anything. The friends that I don't see, the parties I've missed, the vacations to Vegas that don't happen anymore, none of that matters. I can honestly say I'd rather be home wiping up boogers and wrangling up a wiggling 3 month old than out playing on my own. In fact, as I write this Ellie is trying to do a ninja flip out of my arms.

Of course I miss doing some of that stuff. I miss the friends that I don't see anymore. But, teaching someone how to behave and then having love reciprocated, trumps any fun I could have doing otherwise.

There is no greater feeling than having your child come up to you, unprovoked, and having them gush about how much they love you. Lucy runs up to me daily and says, "Dad, you know what? I love you". Keep your parties.

But the punishment is hard. I'm such a baby about it all. If I have to raise my voice or give a little bum tap (yes I do that), I end up crying afterwards. So manly, right? But I have to be diligent. Don't want my kids growing up to be jerk faces.

So for now my role is to be a role model. To be a father. To be a best friend. I enjoy my time dancing in the kitchen as a "princess daddy" and my time taking my kids on walks through scenic trails. One day I won't have that opportunity. There will be no more sick kids requesting banana suckers to cure their ailments. There won't be dances in the kitchen. My kids will grow and they'll out grow childish things. By that time I want them to understand how important they've always been to me and I want them to be well adjusted people. I want them to remember how daddy was always there for them and not off doing selfish things. There is nothing in this life more important than trying to make this place better for your own children.

Lucille and Eleanor, your mother and my world starts and ends with you two beautiful girls. Always and forever.

Searching for an identity

Let me start this off by saying that Ellie is a healthy, wonderful little girl. I haven't written since she was born as life has been a whirlwind of late. We moved from Saratoga Springs to Bountiful, which is like a homecoming for me. My parents both grew up here and I was born at the hospital up the road. I'm only a few minutes up the street from my Grandparents.

But this is not why I wanted to blog tonight. I'm doing this as a way to possibly make contact with some family out there. My mother, Marianne Parker, was adopted. She was adopted by Robert Parker and Lucille Matthews Parker in 1962. She was born in Boise, Idaho. Her birth mothers name was Rose, but I don't remember her last name. My father is pretty sure her biological fathers name is Billy Greathouse.

Years ago her biological sister, who's name I can't recall, contacted me on myspace. I never got back in touch with her and I didn't ever check my myspace account. I'm searching for her and for answers about my mothers biological parents. It would be nice to find of things for medical purposes and to know where I come from. I know my mothers biological dad is an American Indian, and I'd love to know more about him and what tribe he is from. If anyone reading this knows how to even start to look for answers, or if you're family and you can help me fill in the blanks, I'd really appreciate it. My mother and both her parents have passed away, so I'm left without much to go off of. Thanks for anything you can help with.

Mother:

Marianne Parker Mabey Tillotson
5/26/1962 - 6/30/2000
Born in Boise, Idaho

Birth Mother:
Rose

Birth Father:
Billy Greathouse (?)

Adopted to:
Robert and Lucille Parker
of Bountiful, Utah

Mending Fences

If you've been following my blog or If you've stumbled across some of my older posts, or if you're a close friend and you know my situation, you likely know that I've had some family issues in the past. I talked rather openly and freely about many topics, but the one that caused me the most pain and anger had to do with my father. For a long time we were not getting alone or even speaking. It was the hardest and most confusing thing I've dealt with. I'm not going to get into specifics as to why things were the way they were. There is no need to rehash the past, nor is there any reason to place blame on anyone or anything. People fight. People disagree. Bad things can happen even when the intent is good. In the end what matters most is that I have my dad back in my life. He's a rather private man, so I'm just going to leave our story alone, but I had to throw this picture up on my blog. It makes me happier than words can express.

Welcome Miss Ellie

Eleanor Kenley Mabey was born July 1st 2013 at 7:50am.

Baby is perfectly healthy and Momma was a champ! Everything worked out perfectly and now our family is complete. The surgery was much easier on Jill this time around. Being in labor for 19 hours the last time made things much worse. When I got to see her in recovery she looked amazing. You'd have never known just by seeing her and talking with her that she was minutes removed from major surgery.

Eleanor AKA Ellie, AKA Rigby, AKA eEK is perfect. Zero health problems. She is a cutie too. So similar to how her sister looked when she was born, we have some pictures of the girls that friends and family can not correctly make out who is who! She came in a whole pound less than Lucy, which isn't a bad thing. All the nurses kept talking about how much Ellie was their favorite baby in the hospital and how sweet our little eEK's disposition is.

So you're probably wondering what eEK is all about? Despite the fact that she does have a major set of lungs on her, she doesn't cry too much. But she does make lots of coo's and cute noises. One of those noises sound like an "eek". Being that her initials are EK, I've stylized the name as such, eEK. Since I am a huge Beatles fan, you can probably make the connection to the Rigby nickname.

So my concerns about loving two children equally has diminished. I adore my Ellie. As she continues to grow from a potato into a little girl, I'm sure my love will grow leaps and bounds, just as it did with Lucy. Having these two kids just feels right. Not that I am not overwhelmed. After coming home today and the visitors left, Lucy turned in the Tasmanian Devil and destroyed the house, ignored her parents, blatantly disobeyed, and whined. A lot. We made it through the day however, and we will continue to push onwards.

I'll write later about the whole experience welcoming Eleanor into our lives later, but for now I just wanted to throw out an update about her and Jill.

Oh, and no worrying was necessary. The hospital was packed to the brim with Lorna Doone cookies. Plus, my father in law bought me a box of my own to help me make it through the next little while. ;)

To Eleanor

Eleanor,

Despite your mothers best efforts and yours, you did not show up before your set c-section date. No matter how severe or frequent your mothers contractions were, you just sat in place. By "sat in place" I do mean you punched her kidneys and ninja kicked her bladder, but all attempts to "hatch" were nil. So here we sit, just hours away from your birth. I have to be honest little one, I'm terrified.

I'm scared for the surgery that takes place for you to join us. I'm scared that maybe you won't be born completely healthy. I'm scared that the hospital no longer offers fathers endless supplies of Lorna Doone cookies (ok not really). But most of all I'm scared that I won't be a good father.

It won't be for a lack of trying, all I want to do on my time on this planet is to make it better for my kids than it was for me. That is in no way a knock on my upbringing, it's just a goal I think every parent should have. But right now I'm so unsure of myself as father to TWO kids.

I adore Lucille. The kid has me wrapped around her finger. I feel like it's unfair that she got 2.5 years of alone time with me and that you'll have to share my attention. I'm also worried because my heart feels like it's going to explode because of how much I love Lucy, how am I suppose to love another one as much and not die?!?! I know it will be ok, my friends that have multiple kids have all told me that it works out, I'm just voicing my anxiety.

Then of course I worry about bringing home enough "bacon". I worry that I will drown in diapers, bottles, binkies, and estrogen. I worry that I'm just not that good at being a Dad. I guess you could just say I worry about everything.

I just want everything to work out perfectly. I want the operation to be go smoothly. I want you to be healthy. I want you and I to have the same connection that Lucy and I do. I want our family to be perfect and I know it will once you arrive. But for the next few hours, I'm going to panic.

Love, Dad

Uncertain tomorrow

What a crazy roller coaster this life is. Just when you feel like everything in life is perfect, something comes up and dashes away those feelings. After 10 years of dedicated service at her work, my wife was let go. No real solid explanation, the HR guy brought in to do the deed even confessed his confusion as to why. I have my thoughts on what really happened, but it's not my battle or the proper forum so I'll leave it. But what kid of company lets go of a person who's given them 10 years of service and is 8 months pregnant? That's what kills me. She's due at anytime and they cut her free and took away her benefits. She did nothing immorally, nothing that deserves that kind of punishment. It was a "sorry, but we don't think this is working out" kind of deal and they sent her packing.

What a vile thing to do to someone. At my work there is a process that must be followed to let someone go and this place skipped about 5 steps. Such a poorly run company and I think that other peoples agendas took over. Maybe it's time to lawyer up?

In any event, here we sit a few weeks or even days away from the birth of our second child and we have lost a massive amount of our income. I've never been so scared or unsure in my life. My wife is a smart gal and will find something, that I'm sure. But the reality is that nobody is going to hire an 8 month pregnant woman who is then going to be taking maternity leave. It looks like 3 months without that income.

We will survive. It's what we do. We have a great cast of supporting family and friends. All these people, along with my awesome wife, is what's keeping the smile on my face, despite the uncertainty in my stomach.