that’s how I’ve been feeling lately.\u00a0 Just.\u00a0 blah.\u00a0 Like today.\u00a0 Here it is close to 10am, and I have yet to officially start the day.\u00a0 so what have been doing since 8am when DD woke me up???\u00a0 Surfing the net.\u00a0 Wasting time.\u00a0 Yea.\u00a0 Pretty much that’s it.\u00a0 and yea, that pretty much describes my week.<\/p>\n
Maybe it has to do with the fact that I am planning to start school again soon.\u00a0 I figure we can take our time, and be able to take the whole month of December off (‘cuz I’m pretty much useless that month what with holidays and the anniversaries of 3 of our four angels, and both of my DS’s birthdays), and plan for more field trips and what not if we start a bit earlier this year.\u00a0 sooo…\u00a0 yea, pretty much year round school.\u00a0 but we’re not doing a full class load in July & Aug, unless the kids want to.<\/p>\n
Or maybe it has to do with the birthday I’ve got coming up in the next week.\u00a0 The big three-oh.\u00a0 wow.\u00a0 Three decades.\u00a0 I feel old.\u00a0 I know I’m not though.\u00a0 *S*\u00a0 Everytime I think that I’m getting old, I hear my dad’s voice saying, “ah…\u00a0 talk to me when you’re 50!”\u00a0 I miss dad.<\/p>\n
Then there’s Father’s day.\u00a0 I love my husband to death, and will do all I can to be sure the kids celebrate their dad.\u00a0 But this is my first father’s day without my own daddy.\u00a0 I hear the commercials on the radio – Get your dad this! Don’t forget your dad! – and it’s all i can do not to breakdown in front of the kids.\u00a0 My dad doesn’t need a subscription to the Limbaugh letter this year.\u00a0 He will never need another power tool from Sears.\u00a0 I will never get to pick out another tie.\u00a0 He loved my taste in ties.\u00a0 I miss my daddy.\u00a0 His voice is still on the answering machine at Mom’s.\u00a0 Football season this year just won’t be the same without him to talk NY Giants with.\u00a0 I wear his Giants Sweatshirt almost everyday.\u00a0 I miss that my little guy, the one we named for him, will have no memory of his grampa.\u00a0 There are times I’d do anything to have to have him back, just for a few more days.\u00a0 He never did get to see our new house, or all the work we’ve done to it already.\u00a0 I know he’d be so proud of us.\u00a0 He was so proud of us for being able to buy a house.\u00a0 I almost feel guilty about his death.\u00a0 The first time he had trouble was right after we moved to Italy.\u00a0 I think there was an episode or two right after we moved to our last command, and then we moved over 4 hours away, and he died.\u00a0 I know.\u00a0 I know it’s not my fault.\u00a0 It’s not like we had a choice about moving, the military says jump – we say how high? while in mid-air.\u00a0 I know that us moving away did not cause this.\u00a0 But a part of me will wonder, what if we stayed close?\u00a0 Would I have at least been able to say good bye.\u00a0 I talked to him on the phone for hours the day he died.\u00a0 he sounded great.\u00a0 I never once thought it would be the last time I talked to him.\u00a0\u00a0 I regret.\u00a0 I regret not getting the kids on the line to talk to their grampa one last time.\u00a0 I regret not handing the phone to my husband, so he could say good bye too.\u00a0 I regret being selfish with the time on the phone.\u00a0 Some of his last words to me were tax advice for next year for cripe’s sake!\u00a0 I regret not following my instincts and driving up there after his second attack of the week.\u00a0 But I was listening to mom who said he was doing fine, a little adjustment to the meds and he’d be ok.<\/p>\n
And then, just when I can’t hold back the tears anymore, my DS6 runs in, and gives me a hug – rare coming from him – and asks if his hug will make me feel better.\u00a0 How can it not?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
that’s how I’ve been feeling lately.\u00a0 Just.\u00a0 blah.\u00a0 Like today.\u00a0 Here it is close to 10am, and I have yet to officially start the day.\u00a0 so what have been doing …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[4,6,21],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-690","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-deep-thoughts","category-family_life","category-randomness"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/yuriar.com\/katp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/690","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/yuriar.com\/katp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/yuriar.com\/katp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yuriar.com\/katp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yuriar.com\/katp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=690"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/yuriar.com\/katp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/690\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/yuriar.com\/katp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=690"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yuriar.com\/katp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=690"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yuriar.com\/katp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=690"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}