It’s been a little more than 2 months since my daddy, your PawPaw passed. People keep asking how I’m doing.
The best comparison I can come up with is a roller coaster.

Many people enjoy roller coasters.  They love the thrill of being tossed and turned, spiraling up and down, and falling towards the ground at ridiculously high speeds.
Me…not so much. I do not enjoy roller coasters.  At all.
Eating rocks would be more enjoyable to me.

When you are older, I will not ride roller coasters with you.  If I’m honest, I won’t ride any rides with you.  Unless of course you want your mother to throw up all over you and the rest of the ride.

I do not enjoy roller coasters in the literal sense.  Nor do I enjoy the emotional roller coaster which accompanies grief.

Uphill, uphill, uphill, oh wait…we’re headed downhill. Close your eyes, this is scary.  Downhill, downhill, bad day, starting to climb up, nope… just kidding, another bad day and I’m headed for a downhill turn.

Neala, you are walking around everywhere. This week you said a new word almost everyday! (“yum”, “hi” and “belly” just to name a few)  Uphill.
But then you see a picture of our family on the wall and say, “PawPaw.”  Somehow, your tiny and innocent voice saying “PawPaw” has the power to flood my emotions with sadness and grief.  Downhill.
Don’t feel bad.  It’s not your fault.  Just part of the ride.

Bubby, you are moving and kicking like crazy.  You are due to arrive in 9 weeks! I’m busy looking on Pinterest at ways to decorate your nursery. I am headed uphill with anticipation.
Then I look through photo albums and realize there will never be any pictures of you with PawPaw.  Downhill.

We are trying to sell our house.  Your father and I are busy cleaning and staging our home to make it look like we don’t really live here. Uphill.
Before I go to bed I browse the internet looking for a new home.  I start to cry because your PawPaw knew everything about houses.  I so desperately want him here so he can help us find the right one. Downhill through a dark tunnel at a rate faster than I prefer.

It finally stopped snowing.  The temperature is rising and my students actually had outdoor recess a few times this week.  Spring break has officially begun and teachers around the city are letting out a collective sigh of relief.  Uphill for sure!

We visited an art exhibit and I see a picture of an old barn. I instantly thought of my daddy and know he would have loved this photograph.  I could feel the ride going downhill.  I wanted to burst into tears right there and cry until my eyes dried up.  I wanted to grab that photograph and slam it against the wall.  I wanted to throw glass plates.  Lots and lots of glass plates.  What began as an uphill day turned into a downhill spiral.

I am not the only one on the roller coaster of grief. My mothers and sisters are also feeling the ups and downs.  The problem is, it seems we are all on a different coaster.  Monday was a great day for me.  But when I talk to one of my sisters, I can tell it was a downhill day for her.  Thursday was ok for me.  My mother on the other hand felt like Thursday took her on a loop and left her hanging upside down for much longer than she wanted.

So, here I am.  Stuck on a ride I did not choose.  Forced to roll with the ups and downs.  Feeling as if this roller coaster has a never ending track.

In case you’re wondering, I didn’t throw any glass plates.  I didn’t slam the photograph against the wall either.
I did go home and have a nice cry. Even though I know he can’t hear me, I talked to my daddy.
I told him how much I missed him.
I told him how I longed to see him again.
I told him how often I think of him, especially now that spring is coming.  Your PawPaw hated winter. As soon as the signs of spring arrived he would go outside and start doing something.
I told him how I went outside last weekend and did some yard work. If he were still here, he would have been right beside me. Helping me trim the ivy, or showing me how to shape the bushes.
I told him since he left, my heart ached in a way I’ve never known before.

That night as I put you (Neala) to bed, I squeezed you a little tighter and prayed.
You might think I asked God to get me off this roller coaster, but I didn’t.  Everyone knows grief must run its course, there’s no getting off once the wheels start turning.

Instead, I thanked him for friends and family who have been a tremendous support to me. I thanked him for your father, who has been more than amazing through all of this.
And then I thanked God.  Because even though my heart feels the weight of loss, it also feels the peace only He can give.

I might be on this emotional roller coaster for awhile, and that’s ok.  I’m not alone.
I choose joy on the days it doesn’t choose me.  I choose patience on the days I feel irritated.  I choose to remember the wonderful memories I made with my father, instead of dwelling on the memories we won’t make.

My hope and prayer for you is to do the same.  When life seems to fasten you into a roller coaster, choose joy.  Choose patience.  Choose to enjoy the good days, and learn to hold onto God through the bad days.

“Some days there won’t be a song in your heart. Sing anyway.” -Emory Austin

We showed our home again today.  A sweet young couple looking for their first home.  They walked around slowly and gave a lot of positive feedback. They even hung out in the kitchen and chatted with us for 10 minutes after they saw the whole house.
Your daddy asked them if they had been looking long. “No,” the man said, “I just started a new job and I’m in a 9 month probationary period.  So, we’re not in any kind of hurry.”

*Insert eye roll

I take that back.

*Insert internal screams and possibly a curse word. Also insert complete frustration, a small emotional breakdown, and the urgent desire to eat a pint of chocolate ice-cream.

I wanted to thank them for completely wasting our time and drop kick them out the door.
I wanted to throw glass plates.  Lots and lots of glass plates.

We rushed home from church to clean our home for a couple who “isn’t really in a hurry to buy a home. Just checking out the market.”

I steam mopped all my floors, scrubbed my bathrooms, AND removed all sticky traces of a  certain toddler from my kitchen.  I set out a plate of chocolate chip cookies (just out of the oven, thank you very much). I even got crazy and wiped down the doors of the refrigerator.  Who does that?!

I dusted and cleaned windows. Daddy vacuumed and hid laundry baskets in the car.  I even organized the inside of my cabinets just in case they looked inside.  (they did)
Daddy and I did all that for nothing.  FOR NOTHING.

Trying to sell our home has been a journey.  It’s only been on the market for 2 months, but I feel like it’s the longest 2 months of my life.  Possibly because every weekend I steam mop my floors my belly grows a little bit larger and I find myself out of breath more quickly than before.

By the time you are reading this, you will be teenagers and will probably know this. But let me tell you just in case.  I am slightly totally OCD about the house being tidy and clean.  Even when we are not trying to sell the house, I want things put away.  You can imagine what happens when we have to show it to strangers who are possibly buyers.

Your father gets a little frustrated with me because after they leave he can’t find anything.  I removed all the shampoo and body wash from the shower.  He can’t find his razor, the razor charger, or even his wallet.  Pretty much, I want it to look like we don’t really live here.  I want the potential buyer to see themselves in the house, not us.

Making our house look like we don’t live in it has proven quite difficult.  Because we do live here.  Neala you are 14 months. Which means you are big enough to walk around making mini messes everywhere you go.  However, you are not big enough to clean all of them up.  Cue your pregnant mother awkwardly bending over to pick up your random trail of toys.

I must give you some credit.  You are starting to help clean up some things.  When you aren’t being a total diva. (14 months also means you throw random fits for no reason and try to be the boss.  Yeah right!  That is NOT happening sista.)

Kids, there will be times in your life you will want something.  You will want it right away.  It would be a huge disservice to you if we raised you to believe you always get what you want, at exactly the time you want it.  The truth is, you will very rarely get things on your timetable.

God has a plan and purpose for your lives.  It is important to remember his plan has timing.
For example, I believe God has a spouse for each of you.  Someone who will love you, be devoted to you, and support you. God’s plan is for you to marry.  The timing of this plan will not happen for a very long time.  In fact, if neither one of you want to date until you’re 18, daddy and I are completely fine with it.  I’m not even sure how I will send you to kindergarten, how in the world will I let you go out on a date?

Remember to always ask God for patience in the waiting.  You would think I would have this patience thing down pat by now.  I don’t.  But I’m getting better.
Every time we show our home and they don’t call back. I remind myself God has perfect timing.
Every time I leave for work wishing I could stay home with you instead.  I remind myself God has a plan.
Every time I ask your daddy to load the dishwasher and he says, “in a minute.” I remind myself to stop asking him and just do it because I do it better anyway.  😉

It may be awhile before we sell this home.  In the meantime, we’ll keep living here Monday-Saturday.  On Sunday we will pretend we don’t live here.
I will bake chocolate chip cookies.  Daddy will vacuum and hide laundry baskets.
And we will ask God to give us patience while we wait.

Dear son,

I’m sorry but you STILL don’t have a name.  Your father and I have yet to agree on a name we both like.  Everyone keeps asking.  I tell them the German in me and the Irish in him are not meeting in the middle.  At all.

We have a few we both like.  But I reeeeally like one. Which of course he despises.
Of course.
He says it sounds ancient. I think it’s totally hipster.  Are we opposites or what?

So, we’re in a deadlock.  Neither one wanting to budge.  You might be one of those children who go home from the hospital nameless because your stubborn parents can’t agree.

Settling on a name is such a big decision.  I would compare it to choosing a mate, getting a tattoo, or deciding which kind of girl scout cookies to buy. Thin Mint or Caramel Delight?  All very important.

The name we end up choosing is forever.  For.ev.er.  It is often the first impression people will have of you.  If you grow up to be a CEO of a major corporation, will people take you seriously in a business meeting if your name is Kermit? (Absolutely no offense to anyone named Kermit, it’s just not my style.)

Not agreeing on your name is just one of the many differences I’ve noticed the second time around. This pregnancy has been very different than when I was pregnant with your sister.

When I was pregnant with Neala, I took pictures of my belly every few weeks.  Regretfully, there are only a few pictures of this pregnancy so far.

When people would ask how far along I was, I always knew.
“I’m 28 weeks and 2 days.”
With you, people ask and, “ummm…well, er….I think I’m in week 27. Or am I in week 30 now? I don’t know, I’m due in May.”

With Neala, I made a scrapbook of my pregnancy.  I documented the whole 9 months.  Aren’t you impressed?  (I’m sure when you are a teenage boy reading this you will be extremely impressed with my scrapbooking skills.) Having never really scrapbooked before, I shocked myself at how much I enjoyed the process.
You don’t have a scrapbook, or a baby book. Any book for that matter.  I guess I can throw my “Mother of the Year” nomination out the window…

I feel it is important to remember when I was pregnant with Neala, I wasn’t chasing a 1 year old around the house.  There was time to sit and scrapbook.  Mornings were spent getting myself ready, eating breakfast at the table, and asking daddy to take a baby bump picture.
Now, my mornings are busy helping daddy with Neala’s breakfast, cleaning up her breakfast, inhaling my breakfast and rushing around to get ready.  That’s after daddy insists I get out of bed because if I don’t I’ll be late for work.

Just in case you are starting to feel as if you got the short end of the stick, let me assure you of a few things.
Your father and I are very excited for your arrival.  We wonder what you will look like. We laugh when we think about how your tiny voice will sound.  When your sister pats and tickles my belly I giggle. How fun it will be to watch the two of you interact!
In the middle of the night, when the house is quiet and nothing is stirring except you, I smile.  You don’t know it’s 1:28 a.m. and you’re kicking the fire out of me. (Ok, sometimes I smile. Other times I groan)  I dream about what you will grow up to be.  I pray for you.

Yesterday I made some pictures for your nursery. I covered canvases with material and they are totally cute. Couldn’t help but think of my daddy when I jumped after I squeezed the staple gun for the first time. If he were here, he would have helped me with this project.  I could hear his voice saying, “Measure twice, cut once.”

A day hasn’t gone by I don’t think of him.  That’s the biggest difference really.  With Neala, your PawPaw was here.  He helped me put her crib together and spray paint letters for her wall.  Then he taught me how to scrape the paint off my lawn table because I didn’t put enough cardboard under the letters.

Even though preparing for you has been bittersweet for me, I am keeping busy with this blog.  I will use this as a way to tell you and Neala stories about your PawPaw. Some of them you probably won’t believe. Whenever we would drive somewhere, he would start every story with, “This one time…”
I can’t wait until you and Neala are riding in the car and I can say, “Did I ever tell you about PawPaw and that one time…?”

Hopefully by then you’ll have a name…