7:40

A new record was set this morning at the LB home.   

Go, E!  Go, G!  Go, Mr. OCD!  I didn't think it was possible, but all your team work paid off.  It was a hard fought battle, but you finally broke the previous record.

*insert roaring crowd and We Are the Champions by Queen*

Mama is so proud of her precious darlings.  No, they didn't find a cure for cancer.  Nor did that end the war in Iraq.  In fact, I don't think they even realized the greatness of their feat which makes me the sweetness of this moment even more, well...sweet. 

Mama had a much dreaded doctor's appointment this morning.  For some reason, I have severe issues with death and dying which has kicked my hypochondria into high gear.  My age and my weight are the biggest two contributors to my paranoia.  I will be 45 this year, but my kids are only 5 and 6 years old.  I am scared to death that I will die before they've grown and started families of their own.  I am PETRIFIED of the uncertainty and inability to control this unfortunate part of the human life cycle.  Consequently, I focus on those things I can control (until my ADD kicks in and I forget why I can't eat butter straight out of the tub) like my cholesterol which, by the way, is out of control again.  Uuuuggghhh...I need to post flashing billboards all over the place that say:

"KEEP YOUR FAT ASS AWAY FROM SATURATED FATS & GET MORE EXERCISE, HEIFER!" <------ (I wish I knew how the hell to make that thing blink, but learning HTML is not on my bucket list at the present.)

...but I digress.  Oh well, it's my ADD and my freakin' blog post.  If you've hung on this long, you must be curious about the spectacular feat.

Now where was I?  Oh, because I had the appointment with my doctor, Mr. OCD decided to go in late and keep the kids.  (Nice of him seeing as they are his offspring, and I am his near-death wife.)  Incredibly, they let me sleep until....drum roll, please...7:40 a.m.!!!  That has never been done over a school break, ladies and gents.  NEVER.  7:15 a.m. was about as late as it ever got.  Christmas gifts come in all shapes and sizes...

As for my blood work, I haven't heard back.  I'm not optimistic, though, and I expect all will come back "just fine" which 1.) further confirms my severe hypochondria, and 2.) means there's no medical reason for my ass to be as big as the state of Texas.

He Wants Advice from Me??!!?!

Who are those people talking on my my phone?!?  I barely recognize them with all that laughter.  And he's asking her for advice?  Wow! 

Just got off the phone with my dad.  For him, yes, I'll answer.  It's weird how relationships change and evolve over the years. 

My dad and I were never close when I was growing up.  In fact, at times I considered him my mortal enemy.  Seriously, the man was anything but friendly towards me.  I don't think he liked me very much.  We could sit in the same room for hours and never utter a single word to one another.  There was no "hello," no "how was your day?", no "kiss my ass"...nothing.  We just co-existed in the same dwelling.

I do have a few "warm" memories of my dad, though.  I remember him taking us fishing and crabbing off the Howard Avenue pier.  When we were little, he'd wake us up in the middle of the night for snow!  Once when I was about nine, he cleverly pretended that our bathroom was a princess suite so that I'd voluntarily, and with great excitement, take the first bath.  Then there was the time when he bought me a car and taught me to drive.  He even chased down a would-be sexual predator who harrassed me as I walked home from school.  Yes, we did have a few father-daughter moments that are as vividly etched in my memory as the birth of my first child.

Unfortunately, however, there were far too many days filled with hatred and indifference.  Hatred on my part; indifference on his.  We fought about everything from my short shorts to the color of our carpet.  And when there was no fighting, there was nothing.  Just the deafening sound of silence.  I was never more uncomfortable around a person than I was my dad.  I can't pinpoint one pivotal moment in our relationship that led us to those most miserable of days.  All I know is I could not wait to get out of his house.

At 18, that was exactly what I did.  I turned 18 in April, graduated in early June, and moved into a tiny apartment with my crazy psycho loser boyfriend in July.  (Yall remember Scotty from my story about getting choked out at a Mardi Gras parade and going to jail?  Gotta love the young and dumb.)  For the most part, I never went back.  The road has been long and bumpy.  I'm hard-headed; all lessons are learned the...um...severe way.  

Now that I have my own little demons, those troubling days appear much different from how I originally remembered them.  No wonder he didn't talk to me!  I was a drama queen, bitch from hell!  While I never really got into too much trouble like my siblings, I was a very difficult teen.  I required so much energy.  The tension in our house was ruled by Her Royal Diva-ness, moi!  If my hair didn't curl right or I couldn't find my shoes, it was going to be a miserable day.  For everyone.  My mother was a martyr who felt it her duty to put up with me.  But my dad was a saint for not killing me!

Today, my dad and I are different.  We've seen some tumultuous years filled with heartache and family tragedies, but we're cool now.  I like it.  We actually talk to one another.  We laugh and cut up just like...well, just like we should.  I always thought I was a lot like my mom, but I was sooo very wrong.  She was too nice, too patient, too trusting. 

Nope, I'm my dad's daughter.  Tough, yet loving.  I keep my circle small, but I'm very loyal.  I'm not afraid to laugh at myself or others (sorry...).  I get through life's tough spots by looking for the humor.  So does he.  The man is a freakin' hoot.  You should hear him tell a story!

Here's a recent pic of Daddy & the kids.  They ADORE him!

Happy Father's Day, Dad!  I know you probably won't read this because, although you've had one for twenty years, you don't know how to work a computer.  That's okay.  I'm pretty sure you know how I feel any way. 

I love you, Daddy!