The Daddy Test

It was December 1999.  Jolie was five and Sydney was three. I was a single mother and Adrian and I were falling in love.  Adrian was 40 years old and had never been a father before. I thought it would be good to have a series of tests to see if he would be a good father or not. The first test was a very simple one.

It was right before Christmas and I had to work at the church for the Christmas Pageant. We lived right across the street from our church. I told him his task was to strap Sydney into the stroller, hold Jolie's hand, meet me at the church, go through the pageant, return to my apartment, and then play for a little while until I came home.

Easy cheesy! No big deal. Adrian was doing great. He thought it was a breeze. He looked so proud walking through the church with the little girls.  My heart melted when I saw the three of them together. 

But when he got the girls back home and got Sydney out of the stroller, Sydney pushed Jolie to the floor. Jolie started crying. Adrian knelt down and comforted her. He said, "It's OK, it's just a little boo boo." She let him hold her. They were bonding. Adrian was pleased with his great fathering skills. They shared a cuddle moment. And then he looked around and said, "Where's Sydney?"

He ran upstairs and found Sydney standing on the vanity in the bathroom with a pair of scissors in her hand going chop, chop, chop! Adrian saw gobs of beautiful golden curls all over the floor!

About that time, I came home. Adrian had tears in his eyes and he was so sorry. I know he thought I was going to be mad.

I asked, "Do you want to run away?"

And he said, "No."

So I said, "Well....then you passed the test!"

If he knew how far he would be tested in the 11 years that have followed, I think he might have said, "Yes!  I want to run away!"

We got engaged on New Year's Eve after this event.  Our engagement only lasted 6 weeks.  We had only known each other for a total of 12 weeks when we got married.  Isn't that crazy?  It really is.  But I highly recommend this for all couples.  Get married while you're still hopelessly in love with each other.  Everyone has undesirable qualities.  It's kinda nice to go ahead and commit your whole life to someone before you know what those bad qualities are.  It's like a dream.  Every marriage is based on a wing and a prayer any way.  You can know someone all your life and that doesn't mean you'll have a good marriage.

Well, we had a baby a year later, he adopted the girls, and then two more babies followed.  I cannot tell you the number of Daddy tests Adrian has endured with five children.  Some have been quite typical and others have been really challenging and some even heartbreaking.  Adrian has passed every time with flying colors.  He is so calm and loving.  And he knows how to say he is sorry on the rare occasions he falls short.  Perhaps this is his best quality because I sure know a lot of people who do not know how to apologize.

Plus, he still tells the best bed time stories.  I hope that when our children are all grown up, the memories of their Daddy sitting on the edge of their beds making up elaborate, personalized fairy tales will stay in their hearts.  I hope they will remember the many fishing adventures he's taken them on, the camping trips, and the Daddy daughter dates to the nail salons, the interesting dinner table conversations when he teaches us things about science, the world, or openly discusses his spiritual beliefs.

Girls, remember that he gave you a diamond ring on your 13th birthday and told you he wanted to be the first man to give you a diamond.  Boys, remember your man adventures doing target practice and camping without us girls.

I want you to know that he is the one who picks out most of your Christmas presents.  He is like a kid in a candy store and spends a lot of time picking gifts that would be just right for each of you.  On the rare occasions when there is extra money left over, he spends it on each of you. 

Hold it in your heart what it felt like to go on his famous helicopter rides when he would hold you above his head and spin you around, or when he'd make you walk on the ceiling, or when he held you steady so you could ride a bike.  Remember these things.  Forget about the road trips of all seven of us being stuck in the van together, OK? 

Adrian once said that parents are like artists and they aren't appreciated until they are dead.  It rings true sometimes.  I know we frequently forget to show our appreciation for him.  We forget to think about how hard he works to provide for all of us.  We forget how thin he is spread making sure all six of us feel loved and special and he juggles caring for his elderly mother too.  I don't know how he does it all. 

Adrian, you really are the best father I have ever known in my whole entire life and I am not just saying that because you are the father of my children.  You have the sweetest heart and you lead this family with such a gentle spirit.  You are a really good teacher and you know how to play.

We love you so much and hope you know it.
xoxo

Father's Day Column 2011

Holding the back of the bicycle

Dear Lula Belle,

Since it is almost Father’s Day, what is the best advice your dad ever gave to you? I met your dad when he first came to Gainesville. I was working at the hospital. He was our pediatrician for all our kids. My son went to him till he was married. He got real sad when your dad said he had to go to a grown up doctor from then on. Soon, he had a child of his own and Dr. Mike was the baby’s doctor. We miss him so much and we love your whole family. –Just a friend

Dear Friend,

I was thinking the other day about the time my daddy taught me how to ride a bicycle without training wheels. I was six years old and had a hand-me-down bike from my cousin, Chris. It had a banana seat with flames on it. I thought I was Evel Knievel. My daddy made me practice in the back yard on the grass before I could ride on the cement driveway.

Daddy, in his colorful plaid pants, shirt with the big collar, and penny loafers would hold on to the back of the seat to steady the bike and run along with me as I pedaled as hard as I could. I would holler, “Don’t let go! Don’t let go!” and from some distance behind me, I would hear him say, “I already did! You are doing it!” I would look back and then consequently crash. He would make me get right back up and do it again.

Life sure is a lot like learning to ride a bike. We all need someone to hold us steady sometimes. We all need a push. And the one helping us has to know when to let go and allow us do it on our own. We must learn to only look back when necessary and even then to do it quickly and carefully or else we will crash into what is up ahead. When we fall, it is important to get right back on and do it again. I am glad my father made me get right back on even when I was scared. I am sure if mama was the one teaching me, she would have let me come inside.

Life is a balance. We all need our mamas to nurture us and kiss our boo- boo’s. Mamas are the ones we run to when we need some comfort. But it’s our daddies who make us get back on the bike. They are strong enough to hold us steady until we get it right.

Daddy didn’t give up on me. He believed in me and before too long, I was riding in the driveway with my big sister. For hours we would ride in circles playing Charlie’s Angels. Some imaginary bad guy would be on our tails and we would pretend our bicycles were motorcycles. Within a week, I was riding on the street and through empty parking lots on Sunday afternoons.

Daddy was an enlightened man. When I was fourteen, he told me, “To every valley, there are at least two mountains.” I think of him saying this quite often. I was crying in my bedroom, heartbroken over a boy when he stuck his head in my door way and said this to me. It has stayed in my heart all these years. It’s probably the best advice he ever gave me. Even when we are at the bottom of a valley, there are at least two ways up. It gives me hope. It was his way of holding me steady so I could start pedaling again. I have pedaled over many a mountain this way.

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads who hold the back of the bicycle. Thank you for running alongside us until we get it right. Thank you for holding us steady. And thank you for making us get back on when we fall.

Need Advice? Ask Lula Belle by sending your questions to: asklulabelle@windstream.net  

(Daddy and my little sister, celebrating the birth of her first son 2008)

Daddy, we miss you so much.  We wish you were here.  We still need you.  There are moments we are still lost and our hearts break into a million pieces when we want to see you.  But we are mighty grateful that you were the kind of Daddy who held the back of the bicycle.  Everything you taught us and the love you shared with others is in our hearts forever.  I know you somehow watch over us.  I don't know how it works, but it does. 

Big Fat Liar

Oh, the calm is still enveloping our house like a warm blanket on a cold day.  Never mind that it is hot as hell outside.  We are spending most of our time huddled up in the house as if it was snowing.  The house is a mess.  I haven't seen it this disorganized since Nicholas was a baby and I was getting by on just 3 hours of sleep.  I typically thrive on order and cleanliness but I am coming to find that a dirty house isn't as fatal as I once feared. 

I tried going on a diet again.  I did another calorie counter program.  It really is harder than it looks.  I have been eating 1300 calories a day and have gained 3 pounds. And yes, I did calculate in the bag of pistachios I consumed while meditating the other day. 

Yesterday while shopping, I picked up a diet book called the Dukan Diet.  It is supposed to teach you how to eat like a French woman.  I thumbed through the pages and gagged when I skimmed over a page about eating animal organs. 

Do you know how many diet books I have bought and read over the years?  It's almost embarrassing.  All the books are dumb.  They didn't need to cut down so many trees.  All they really need are three pages.  One page that says, "Eat less."  And one page that says, "Move more."  And the last page should have a disclaimer  that says, "If you are fat, you probably will always be fat and when you eat less, sometimes your body will go on freak out mode and you will actually gain weight.  Exercising can be VERY dangerous for fat people, especially dancing.  You will realize you are getting old and have arthritis and not be able to move for five days after a work out."  The end.

I've always wanted to be thinner but I don't know why.  I am not sure what that would do for me.  It's not like I would go on a shopping spree and frolic through the stores in my skinny body.  I can do that now when I feel like it.  I did it yesterday.  I blew some birthday money at the fat girl store and had just as much fun as a skinny girl, I bet.  I saw my butt in a 3 way mirror and said to myself that it looks just as nice as anyone else's.  It may be bigger than most folk's and it may or  may not have ever gotten stuck in a dining room chair, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have redeeming qualities.  It's just as round and soft as a Victoria Secret model's, only mine is 10 times bigger.  Being only 5 feet tall, I am fun sized and super sized at the same time.  How glorious is that?

I can do everything as a fat girl that I could do as a skinny girl.  Sometimes I don't do it only because I am scared about what other people might think, but that's pretty stupid.  Who cares?   Do I think I don't deserve to wear a bikini on a beach?  Do I think I don't deserve to go skinny dipping in a lake with my friends?  It's not like I have been a bad girl and need to be grounded from having fun.  I am 37.  I have earned every fat roll.  My fat rolls are like battle scars.  See this tummy?  It is my womb that carried five babies.  See these humongous boobs?  They nursed those five babies for a total of 9 years.  See these thighs and hips?  This is from all the ice cream I ate when I was lost and sad.  And see my flappy arms?  This is from all the cheese dip I ate when I was happy and having fun.   

Oprah has it all figured out.  You can be fat, just wear beautiful clothes.  I don't think she's ever said this, but that's what she does.  She has enough money and resources to have a personal chef, a personal trainer, a guru, and an assistant.  Most people regard her as a highly enlightened woman.  But even she has trouble losing weight and keeping it off.

How liberating it would be to totally and honestly and wholly accept myself.  As women, we try too hard to fix this and that about ourselves without stopping to say, "I am OK just the way I am."  We try to change our hair color.  We try to cover up wrinkles or blemishes.  We try to squeeze into Spanx.  We go on diets.  And we take way too much medication, asking our doctors to prescribe this and that magic pill so we won't be moody or stressed.

It's a bunch of crap, girls.  We spend too much money and time trying to be someone we are not.  We are so full of denial.  We are liars.  Why can't we just accept who we really are?  

I had to get my license renewed last week.  I finally changed the weight on it.  I still lied, but I did add 30 pounds to the number.  I am getting there.  One step at a time, I will embrace who I am.

Being in love

So, Camp Cutchshaw was a bad idea.  In theory it was a good idea.  I tried.  I really did.  Summer surrounded by two teenage girls and three little kids sends me over the edge.  So I was going to be the fun mom and entertain everyone and keep everyone so busy with wholesome activities that no one would even have a small chance of driving me nuts.  Only, all my ideas ended up making them nuts which in turn made me nuts.

I had this great idea that we should all unplug from technology and get in touch with nature.  I also was convinced that we should learn to eat a more organic diet and I was ready to lay down the law that my children should eat what is served or go hungry.  With two picky eaters due to the weirdness of sensory issues that come along in the wonderful package of autism spectrum disorders, I was ready to nip all this crap in the bud.  Pioneer children ate what was served no matter what their particular issue was.  Why can't my kids do it? 

As the Camp Cutchshaw director, I was beginning to feel like the devil.  It's not in my nature to bark orders: "Get in line, clean your room, wake up and get your butt into the back yard and let me teach you the names of these tress over here.  And you WILL have fun.  This is called family bonding." 

I came up against such resistance that it wasn't remotely fun.  You can call me weak or a bad mom or whatever, but by the 3rd day I said, "Screw it." I briefly tried again followed by an epiphany that was so wonderful I almost could believe my luck.

I ignored my children for two days.  I only did what was life or death necessary to tend to them.  I did make sure they were alive from time to time and I did hand out Skittles when Nicholas went potty.  Other than that, I did my own thing.  I read a book.  I took a nap.  I took a walk.  I watched TV.  I stared out in space.  I ate almost an entire bag of pistachios.  I did some deep thinking and even some no thinking.  I just did whatever I felt like doing.  I even made a friendship bracelet because I had bought this awesome red string for one of my arts and crafts activities. 

And you know what happened?  Mollie and Nicholas picked out books and snuggled beside me and read while I was reading.  When I fell asleep, I felt Mollie's warm body cuddled up right beside me.  And when I made my bracelet, Fischer and Mollie asked me to teach them how to do it and they learned how to braid and macrame.  Jolie and Sydney got invited to go tubing down the Chattachoochee with some friends.  It was awesome.  The children were so quiet.  And they entertained themselves all day long.  I was just doing my own thing and they did theirs.  Nicholas spent hours lining up his Zhu Zhu pets, Littlest Pet Shops, and Hot Wheels.  Two days of calm has fallen over our house.  No plans.  No agendas.  No activities list to check off.  And no chores.

I was trying too hard to get back to nature.  Trying too hard to find peace in our daily lives.  Trying too hard to relax and unwind after a long, stressful school year.  Why do I do this?  It doesn't make sense.  Peace and tranquility are already here.  Zen is in the midst of changing diapers and folding laundry.  It is not in some faraway land and it does not cost money to get there.  You don't even need a guide or a guru.  I found Zen just eating my bag of pistachios, staring out in space, listening to the computer keys click quickly as my teenagers were sending messages on Facebook to their friends mixed in to the sounds of my son Fischer playing a Play Station game and Mollie and Nicholas squealing as they tried to catch the kittens on our porch.  It's here.

In whatever chaos is around me, I can smile and let go.  I don't have to be doing some important thing.  I can just give thanks to the universe for these precious children and the opportunity to be a mother.  Where I can receive the greatest education in the world.  I can walk on the path of enlightenment every day just because I am surrounded by these unique, creative beings who just count on me to love them.  I don't have to be one of those soccer moms who rush from one activity to the next.  I don't have to sign my children up for classes to make them become outstanding people.  We can just be.  We can just be.  We can open up the pressure vent and let it all out.  We can just be in love.  That's what my summer will be about.  We are just going to be in love.  And I am going to leave them alone as much as possible.

Honor Camper of the Day: Sydney

Posted by Sydney:

Camp Cutchshaw sucks.  Worst idea ever.  The end.

Posted by Abigail:

Can you see the resistance I am meeting?  It's day 4 and I've lost all control.  The TV is on.  Everyone has been on the computer.  I am not feeling very campy.  I am going to take the little kids to Vacation Bible School in a few minutes and hopefully find some inspiration to put one foot in front of the other.  I know this is materialistic but I am almost embarrassed to go to church looking like I do.  I got ready at 6:00 this morning and haven't freshened up since.

Nicholas had a little procedure this morning and had to be sedated.  He's feeling the affects of the medication wearing off and he's been so sweet and cuddly with intervals of violent outbursts.  He tried to choke Fischer about an hour ago.  Our dish washer broke last night, leaked through the ceiling and mildly flooded the laundry room downstairs.  I haven't even been able to clean up the water yet.  And it's been there nearly 24 hours.  I feel like I have spent the whole day preparing food and washing dishes by hand.  I am not used to doing this and have managed to break 2 of my new favorite coffee mugs.  I have been super busy all day long yet don't have much to show for it. 

The kids have been out of school since Friday and here it is Tuesday and they have already worn me out.  I have got to get it together.  How in the hell do the Duggars do it?  They have like 20 kids.  I only have 5.  I wish Michelle and Jim Bob would come over here and work their magic.  Teach me how to Duggar.

Honor Camper of the Day: Nicholas

Yesterday Nicholas went swimming for three hours with his brother, sisters, and me.  He learned how to jump into the deep end in while we were playing categories.  He was cute the way he refused to answer any category I called out.  For instance, when I called out, "Cartoon!"  He would run to the side of the pool and say, "No! Zhu Zhu Pet color."  And then he would run back to the bench.  Then he would run to the side of the pool and I would say, "Zhu Zhu pet color!" And he would yell, "Green!" and then he would jump in.  We did this for Hex Bug color and Hot Wheels color.  Over and over again.  And his answer was "green" every time. 

After we exhausted ourselves swimming in the 95 degree heat we came back home.  Adrian took Nicholas, Mollie, and Fischer out for Mister Misties.  We played UNO with everyone before bedtime.  Nicholas did a great job matching colors and numbers and taking turns.  I think he had a great day.

PS No one is truly thrilled about Camp Cutchshaw. They all think I am pretty dumb.  (sigh)

Honor Camper of the Day: Mollie

Post by Mollie:

When I woke up I was so surprised because there was Camp Cutchshaw.  And I had to eat an egg.  And I at least tried it.  And I really didn't want to eat it but I had to try it.  And I also had cinnamon toast but it kinda had too much butter.  At Camp Cutchshaw you have to eat what is served.  It kinda sucks that you have to do that.
Especially with pasta.  Because I hate pasta.  But we didn't have pasta.  That was awesome.

I spent the day outside playing with the kittens.  Even though they scratched me.  I washed it off and prayed and put three bandaids on it.  But even though the white one scratched me I still played with the kittens.  I just didn't try to pick up the white one.  And Sydney was the magical one.  I couldn't have gotten a kitten without her.  She can catch them very well.  She taught me her trick.  And the trick was that you needed the string to the volleyball net because it has the white thing.  Put the white thing in front of it and then as it gets closer and closer you pull it and when it gets close enough you scoop it up and then you have a kitten in your hand.

At night I caught some fireflies after my mom and I planted some flowers.  And last night we went to Wal Mart and to the car wash but I didn't want to because I wanted to stay outside.  But we got a lot of stuff and well I didn't really like that.  Because after we went there it was my bedtime and we didn't get to play outside any more.  And I really like playing outside.  But I didn't complain like everyone else.  But I still had a good time. 

That's all.

P.S. camp cutchshaw was a dumb idea just kidding no really

Camp Cutchshaw Day 1

Welcome Campers!  Yesterday was the last day of school for three of my five children.  It was only a half day.  Afterwards, we loaded up in the van and drove to Su Su's house and jumped in the pool.  We swam and swam.  Later that evening, we went to Road Atlanta and walked for Relay for Life.  Nicholas, Mollie, and Fischer got these funny light up glasses.  Luckily, no one had a seizure.  Those things should be outlawed.  The kids played in the bouncey house and Mollie and I went on a mad hunt for cotton candy.  It was a blast.  But the car ride home was looooooong!  We got home at 11:00 pm. 

Today is the first day of Camp Cutchshaw.  Each evening, one of our campers will post a blog about their day.  We will be unplugged from the phone, computers, TV, video games, etc...  We are going to get back to nature!  Ye Haw and Yipppee!

Crazy Cat Lady

A couple of months ago, a stray cat started wandering around our yard.  She was a scraggly thing.  I don't know much about cats, but I think her breed is called, "Ugly."  I don't know if she is some sort of calico but she looks more like a patch work quilt made by a blind person. I could tell she was pregnant but you could see her ribs.  She obviously once belonged to someone because she had good manners.  Even though I tried to discourage her from hanging out around our house, she was insistent that she belonged in our front yard near the driveway.  Even though she was obviously starving, I didn't run out to buy cat food hoping she would leave and go find someone else to beg from.  I refuse to be some sort of crazy cat lady.

Just having her in the yard made my eyes water.  I am allergic to cats.  I don't like them.  In fact, I kinda hate them.  I am more of a dog person but I even have my limits there.  I am basically not an animal lover.  I am more of a child person.  I love children.  That's why I have 5.  They are my pets. 

One afternoon as I was pulling into the driveway, coming back from picking up my children from school, I saw the scraggly Mama Cat leap into our broken down boat which has been sitting in our side yard collecting leaves and whatever the wind blows into it.  I hate that boat.  I was really mad at Adrian for buying that stupid thing.  I complain about it at least every other month pointing out what rednecks we are.  We may as well have a broken down car in the driveway.  Wait, we have that too.  We really are rednecks.

Any way, once I saw the Mama Cat jump into the boat, I knew that she was planning on having her babies in there.  I told Adrian but he didn't believe me. When he went to investigate, there was never any sign of the Mama Cat or any kittens.  This went on for a while.  But I watched the Mama Cat and realized she was going up inside the boat and I could hear little squeaks.  Holy crap.  There is a litter of kittens in our boat.

The Mama Cat stayed very busy.  She was hunting for her food.  She was good too.  I never knew we had little mice around our house but she sure did.  My kids watched her kill a bird or two.  For being so pitiful looking, she sure was an excellent hunter.  She looked so weak but in fact she was rather strong.  I started thinking about how as a mom, sometimes I feel the same way.  I may be pitiful sometimes, but I do whatever I have to do for my children.  I'd go hunt for food if I had too.  I may feel under qualified at times, but I always pull through.

Pretty soon, Mama Cat brought her babies into the sunshine.  She had six beautiful kittens.  Five black kitties and one white one.  They stayed inside the boat near the captain's chair.  She would hunt and nurse, hunt and nurse.  She looked like any new mother.  Ragged and worn out.  So, I broke down and went to buy cat food for the first time in my life.  I felt sorry for her.  I reasoned that it was only because she was nursing her babies.  I nursed all my babies too and I know how much that can wear you out.

Mama Cat was the most grateful cat.  She would smile at me when I'd bring her food and water.  She started hanging out at the boat with her kids for longer periods of time.  She would stretch out and soak up the sun.  She started gaining weight too.  She started to look a little less ugly.

I kept thinking, "Why in the world did this cat pick us?"  "Doesn't she know I hate cats?"  "Doesn't she know she is making my throat itch just being here?"  "I am so mad I have to find these kittens a home."

I called the animal shelter.  Please take these cats.  "There is no room."  There is no room at the Inn.  The shelter is full.  Sorry.  So I called the humane society.  They said they'd put them all to sleep.  For a fee.  Good Lord!  "Ma'am, I am sorry for saying this, but I think you should call your organization the Inhumane Society."

I started calling my friends.  Who wants a kitten?  Luckily, my friend Amy took two of them.  Their names are now Tarzan and Jane.  So we are down to just 4 kittens.

A few days ago, we saw Mama Cat jumping in and out of the boat.  She was teaching her children how to get out.  It has started getting very hot and they needed to go somewhere cooler. Three of the kittens stumbled out after their mother.  I don't know how she communicated with them, but they understood.  She took them to our porch.  And then she spent the rest of the day trying to coax the last kitty how to get out of the boat.  He wouldn't do it.  All day long and into the evening, Mama Cat went back and forth from the porch to the boat.  The one left behind, trembled on the edge of the boat for hours.  Finally, Sydney scooped up the kitten and brought him to his Mama.  He joined his siblings and began prancing around and playing.

We've all enjoyed watching the Mama Cat play with her kittens.  She is a good teacher.  She has taught them all to eat and drink out of the bowls we leave in the shade.  She lays on the porch and swishes her tail back and forth and lets them pounce on it.  The kittens love the sidewalk chalk my kids leave outside.  They stalk the chalk and then attack it.  The kittens jump off the porch and run to hide under it when we come outside.  They peak their cute little heads up and watch us.  All you can see are their little ears.

I don't know what will come of all of this.  I heard through the neighborhood grapevine that this cat belongs to someone who has let her have ten litters of kittens.  I am thinking she adopted us hoping we would love her.  She hasn't met Bailey our dog yet, but I am thinking they might become friends.  I guess we'll take her to the vet and get her taken care of and bring her back here to live the good life.  Hopefully we'll find homes for all her babies.  But if we don't, I may become the crazy cat lady after all.