Texas de Brazil

As promised, I wanted to share my thoughts on Texas de Brazil. A little background, Michael and I have an 8 month old. If you know me, and you don't know that...well, let's just say you must've been stranded on a deserted island for the past year.

Since having Harper Grace, we haven't had a "date night". We really enjoy being parents and find that if it can't be done WITH her, we don't want to do it.

So, in February, Bruno Mars tickets went on sale. I was so eager to go and talked Michael into going with him. I figured I had four months to prepare to leave Harper Grace. I mean, yes, I leave her at school, but we haven't really left her with friends or family yet. Well, four months passes and I'm not really ready to leave her :) I wasn't really excited about Bruno Mars anymore and figured that, if we were going to spend the night away from the baby, we better both enjoy it. I wasn't really confident I would sell the tickets. I told myself that if I did, it was a sign that we should do something else. If I didn't sell them, we would go and have fun.

The tickets sold FAST...like within 30 minutes. I was so happy to sell them to my friend, Taheita, who is a single mom of two adopted boys (21 months and 9 months). This girl deserves a night out on the town and it made me feel even better that she was the one using them.

I made an appointment for pedicures (my first since October 7) and dinner reservations at Texas de Brazil. I tried for 7 pm, but they were booked, so I went with 7:15.

We called ahead about parking, and they recommended we use a lot or complimentary valet parking. Listen, THAT is what you do. It is behind Texas de Brazil, across the street from MugShots. They are very fast and helpful. Plus, it is free (obviously, don't forget to tip).

Texas de Brazil was SLAMMED. People everywhere. Honestly, I was concerned about our attire because it is "business casual". Well, no need to worry. I saw short shorts, jeans and tennis shoes, dresses, and suits. I was a little shocked at the lack of clothing some people were wearing. (Side note: dear old ladies, please stop dressing like hookers to reclaim your youth. It is gone, long gone, and you look ridiculous).

We arrived around 7:20 (a few minutes late thanks to....yep, concert traffic). Our reservation was for 7:15. Standing inside got annoying, so we went to sit out front. They have nice couches, but they were wet and I got my butt soaked. My fault, it had been raining. The couches were a perfect location to people watch. They were a horrible location if you, like me, HATE the smell of cigarette smoke. At 7:50 I went in to see how much longer. Hello, I'm leaving my baby for the first time. She reassured me that they were getting our table ready. I'm not sure if she just didn't want to deal with me or if they really were. It almost seemed like people who asked were seated more quickly, but I could be wrong. We were seated at 7:54.

Okay, here's the fun part! Our waiter came over to explain the "process" to us. Basically, there is a salad/side bar in the middle of the restaurant. In addition to that, they automatically bring you their bread to your table. You have a token that has a green side and a red side. When you are ready for meat, turn it to green. When you are tired of meat, turn it to red. When you are ready for meat, they also bring you a bowl of garlic mashed potatoes and heavenly bananas to cleanse your palate. (I didn't use the bananas for palate cleansing, I used them for ecstasy)

Aside: their bread isn't really bread. Its almost a pastry and isn't terribly flavorful.

So, the "salad" bar. I was picturing Ruby Tuesday/Golden Corral. Nope. Its very foofy. They have 4 salad dressings (they acted as though it changed, but I'm not sure). It had lettuce, dressing, croutons and bacon. Let me talk about the bacon for a moment (this was Michael's favorite part of the salad bar): the bacon is strips of bacon cooked to perfection. It is so yummy! It didn't have the typical salad toppings you would expect. In addition, it has chilled salads (my favorite was a cranberry couscous), salamis, different cheeses, vegetables and (my favorite) was the pineapple ceviche. That was pineapple thinly sliced and appeared to be lightly grilled. It was so yummy.

This bar also has a hot line. It includes the soup du jour ("mmm...sounds good. I'll try it" anyone know what movie that's from?) which was lobster bisque. It has a black bean stew, rice, mushrooms and potatoes gratin.

But y'all really want to hear about the meat, right? Waaaaaay before we turned our cards to green, the gauchos starting offering meats. I don't know if this was because we were close to the kitchen or what. They serve meat at a medium rare. It is cooked in sea salt to hold in the flavor. That means it can be salty! We tried: filet, filet wrapped in bacon, flat iron, sirloin, pork, Brazilian, lamb, chicken wrapped in bacon, parmesan chicken and the Brazilian sausage. We didn't try everything! They had lamp chops, something that looked like a roast and probably other meats. Michael and I expected to dislike the Brazilian sausage, but it was one of our favorites. Michael's favorite was basically (yes, shocking) the steak wrapped in bacon. My favorite was the filet. I didn't like the lamb much, but I'd never had it before. If you want your meat cooked more or less, they will cook to order (this includes without salt) or just chicken, whatever.

After a ton of meat, we turned our cards back to red. I mean, we turned them to green because people kept offering us meat and turned it to red because I was stuffed!

I only had water, but they have an extensive drink menu and lots of wines. Michael had Coke. This is important- the Cokes come in small bottles. They are $3.00 each.

Finally our dessert tray came for us to view (and alcohol opportunities, again). They had carrot cake, crème brulee, key lime pie, coconut chess pie, pecan pie, Brazilian cheesecake, Mango something, and chocolate mousse cake. We opted for the chocolate cake. Well, Michael said he was going to "help" me eat it. LIE. I helped him because he devoured it! It was super yummy.

I bought Michael a gift card for Valentine's Day, so that helped with our bill :)

It was $42.99 each for the meal (including the salad/side bar, all you can eat meat). We paid $9.00 for Michael's Cokes and another $9.00 for dessert. Our total bill before tip was $114 and some change.

We both feel it was worth the price. Clearly, its a special occasion type of place (think Melting Pot). You certainly get your money's worth in meat alone.

So, there is my Texas de Brazil review. It was a wonderful date night, we had so much fun.

Do Unto Others...

I've been thinking about this for a good bit. It all started with me getting pregnant, and a girl from the gym got pregnant about 2 weeks after me. I haven't seen her in person for nearly a year, but we've stayed in touch because we were pregnant and now we are mommies! I gave birth three weeks early, and she gave birth eight weeks early. We both are educators. We both have NICU babies. Harper Grace spent less than a week there, but Ellie Faith will have to stay longer. 

We're at least ten years apart in age. She's incredibly fit (you know, one of THOSE girls). In the gym, she was quiet and me...well, I was boisterous. We're alike, yet so different. 

Let me tell you why I like her so much. She doesn't know this, no one does. It's all about how she treated me one morning.

It was a 5 am boot camp, and we were divided into groups of four. For some reason I was separated from my usual foursome. Basically, your group had to do a certain set of exercises and then you had to run. We all know, no matter how much I wanted yo love it, I hated to run. I hated to be the "fat kid" in this group. I hated to slow everyone down- especially my new partner. The fit girl. The girl who runs and could wear those black exercise pants without a side of fruit for cottage cheese. 

One of the other people in my group should've acted like my friend. They'd worked out with me plenty before. They knew my ability level. Problem? They didn't. 

My new partner could've run laps around me- multiple laps. She didn't. She could've done 10000000 sit ups to my 100, but she didn't. She kept a pace I could tolerate and never once complained. In fact, she even walked some with me.

Remember the other person that I expected to be supportive or at least kind? She blew past me and said, "I'm so tired of this." She didn't want to wait. She wasn't worried about the success of our assigned team. She sure as hell wasn't worried about my feelings- if she was, she would've whispered...or waited until she was way ahead of me to mouth off. I mean, let's be honest, she was faster than me and would've been ahead. 

It's funny when we see the true side of people. The person I expected to be frustrated and disappointed to be my teammate wasn't, and the person I expected to be kind...wasn't. 

So, a year later, I remember this. It still weighs on me. It probably always will. Fat people will understand this. People who have been picked on will get it. I was trying to change and grow, and this person discouraged that. I'm sure not intentionally, but it doesn't matter. 

Thank you, Bethany, for showing true character. 

A Baby Story...

It's taken me a while to be able to write this...this. The story of the greatest, and yet most terrifying day of my life. The day I became a mommy, but almost didn't. 

Those who know me, know that I worried nonstop about the baby I was carrying. My doctor knew I'd do anything for her. We often joked that if he told me standing on my head for a week would be good for her- I'd do it. I'm 37 and never thought I'd have this moment. I thought I'd blew it. I've had guilt over being able to get pregnant when others couldn't, having a baby when others lost theirs. 

The last few weeks of my pregnancy, as I knew we wouldn't be going full-term, my doctor was "intentionally vague" with me. He told me he was being so. I developed polyhydramnios, extra fluid in my placenta. I had high blood pressure (at times topping 190/120), and I had a big baby inside. 

Finally, he gave me about one week's notice. We talked about the options. Do I try to deliver vaginally or just do the csection? This, my friends, is the decision that will haunt me forever. He told me I had a 50/50 shot of having a csection, even after trying vaginally...and I decided to try. 

I went to his office on Tuesday, October 8. He started the induction process with a balloon that helps you dilate. My mom, Michael and I went to Niki's for my last pregnant meal. Note: if you have the balloon procedure- go to a restaurant with comfy chairs. Then we reported to the hospital.

Contractions were the worst around midnight. They were horrible. Michael remained calm. My mom was doting- offering a cold cloth, rubbing my leg- basically putting herself in the lions den. Finally, the balloon came out and contractions improved. 

Early the next morning, my amazing doctor came by. They broke my water- which was amazing. I loved the way it felt, and it kept gushing all day because I had extra fluid. I got the epidural, a catheter and slept most of the day. 

Around 3, I think. We were ready to start pushing. That epidural stuff is amazing. Yes, I was pushing. I was having contractions, but they didn't hurt...and it was working. Kind of. I was updating Facebook, thought we were good to go. 

5:30ish my doctor comes in and I announce, "It's time for the Hoover." At this point we thought she needed help getting out and so we tried for suction. This, my friends, did not work. My tailbone was too prominent and we had to go straight to csection. 

I can't tell this story without crying, it hurts just to think about it. I was terrified. I've not had major surgery and they were about to cut me open. They didn't let Michael in while they prepped me. Then, when he came in, they explained just how it would go, when he could take pictures, everything. Except it didn't go that way. When they went in to get her, she was so far down in the birth canal, that they couldn't get her. Damn that Hoover. I remember excruciating pain on my upper abdomen and rib cage. I remember her coming out- but no cry. They never took our camera. Then, nurse after nurse after nurse- probably 20- poured in. No one would tell me what was happening. I just wanted to know she was okay. 

But she wasn't. My baby girl, precious and wonderful, was not breathing at birth. The wonderful army of nurses helped her. They made her breathe. We finally heard a tiny cry. We didn't get to hold her, just a brief touch as they wheeled her to NICU...and took Michael with her. 

I can't begin to describe the terror I felt. I wanted this baby more than life itself. Amy, my nurse for the whole day, stayed with me. I don't know if she had to. I don't want to know. I joked all day with her and my doctor all day that we had to deliver before Amy left at seven. She got down on her knees, looked me in the eye, and told me that my baby was going to be okay. She consoled me and reassured me...even after seven. 

They wheeled me to my new room, and she stayed with me. She never left until I was settled and my family came in. At first, I got to see everyone for just a second. Then they sent them out for 30 minutes while I recovered. They sent them to NICU to see my girl. Those  were long 30 minutes- I was so worried that my baby wasn't okay and there wasn't anyone to tell me. I remember when they walked in.  My mom, Michael, my in-laws, Michael's aunt and uncle, Misty, Dra and Michelle. They were smiling and they promised me that my girl was okay. 

God is so good. I don't remember much more of the night. I remember touching my baby for the first time, and seeing she was okay. I remember driving my nurse nuts that night- I was worried about HG and whether they'd tell me if she was doing well. I remember crying because- had I gone with my gut and had the csection- this wouldn't have happened. 

What I need to remind myself is that everything happens for a reason. I don't ever want to have regrets because I'd alter the chain of my life events. The guilt doesn't make this easy, but my girl is okay. I know it because she sits in front of me now- grunting and making faces as she thinks about waking up. 

We didn't have a normal delivery. We don't have footprints or the photo of Michael cutting the umbilical cord. We won't have those delivery moments, but we have our baby to make years of memories with. We will always cherish this picture. My amazing doctor, King Midas, holding G at our first appointment. This is a memory we didn't make at the hospital, but I'm so blessed we made it a week later. I couldn't thank him without crying. He saved my baby. He took care of me, and I adore him. 

This is the story of Harper Grace's arrival. I'm so thankful it has a happy ending and that I could tell it. I look forward to telling many more stories about this beautiful girl over the next 60 years. 

Oh yea-and she will definitely be an only child. 

J

Pregnancy Products

I've been thinking about this blog for a couple of weeks. Now that I know I have less than two weeks (aaaaaack!) left, I thought I better get on it. 

Let me start by saying that, until mid-September, I had a relatively/ comparatively easy pregnancy. I haven't had (knock on wood) constipation, morning sickness or unmanageable exhaustion. I've also still gained less than 20 pounds...that's because I started out "plus" sized. You skinny folks are screwed ;)

Okay, so here we go: these are products that have helped me survive months 1-9 of pregnancy.

1) Target layering tank tops. These are the ones that run about $9 and don't have the ridges. I bet I own 15 of them, and now that I'm on bed rest- it's all I wear. I wear two with gauchos, yoga pants or a skirt. They're stretchy and LONG. This becomes important when your belly gets huge and you start to have a midriff in everything. These cover your belly. 

2) Comfortable dresses. I shop mostly from Old Navy online for these. They have an empire waist and give you room to breathe. I like the long ones so that when veins start turning your legs purple- you can cover them. Note: don't wear dresses to doctor appointments late in the pregnancy. You need constant belly access, and tank tops and comfy pants make that easy. 

3) SNOOGLE. If you don't have this pillow yet- buy one this week. They are about $60 at your nearest baby store. Anyone who tells you a regular body pillow will do is lying. I was a stomach sleeper and cuddling with this helped me transition to my side. Oh- I also developed a bizarre desire to switch sides with every potty trip at night. This helped. 

4) A huge water bottle. I use the Tervis 24oz with a flip top- it's top makes it easy to carry and not spill. You have to drink so much water- and this is convenient.

5) Tums original. I don't enjoy taking meds while pregnant, there are a few that are ok to take and your doc should give you a list. Anywho- these have been very helpful with late pregnancy heartburn and they're kind of yummy. 

6) Comfortable flip flops. You really need more than one pair and if it gets too cold in winter? Ugh! My feet grew out of my regular shoes basically at the end of my first trimester. I usually wear a 9-9.5, I'm now in an 11 flip flop. Nothing else fits and you don't want to ugly stepsister them into a shoe. 

7) Poise pads (awkward). Look, if you don't pee when you sneeze, laugh, cough or...breathe, you're lucky. I discovered the poise pantiliner months ago and it helps. You don't just have to worry about pee, you also have a ridiculous amount of (ew) discharge. A poise pad also helps track the amount of discharge in case you're worried you might leak fluid. It helps measure the amount of discharge and (God forbid) if you need to smell it. 

8) Shout stain remover. Your belly and boobs will grow and you won't be able to sit at close to the dinner table. This means you'll be a messy (messier, in my case) eater. 

9) A doctor you adore. I love my doctor, his nurse- the whole office. They make me feel comfortable with questions and will fit me in immediately. The office staff knows my name, the ultrasound tech is awesome... I think they're the best. My doc always remembers what I tell him and it creates a comfort level. 

10) If you have PEEHIP insurance, look into the Baby Yourself program. They assign you an RN you can call with questions. As a result of finishing their program (basically a few phone conversations), our hospital deductible was waved :)

11) An amazing husband or partner. I never expected to be sitting on bed rest, but Michael makes it so much better. He's involved in all things baby- he helps with the nursery, he took all of her tags off clothes, has helped with laundry. He runs to get me my daily coke (I drink one/day), goes to the grocery, brings home dinner. He tolerates my weird body questions: do I have a linea nigra yet, are my nipples different, does my belly button look funny? 

Ooh- let me add a few websites/apps:

-What to Expect

-The Bump

-Alphamoms Pregnancy Calendar

-My Pregnancy

-a kick counter app

- I also follow Ask The Chicks on Facebook. They have some helpful stuff, but they're really granola- so they have some strong opinions on formula, circumcision, crying it out, etc

I think those are my big ones. I'm so excited to meet my sweet girl and thankful for the prayers and blessings we have had. 

Getting stoned...

I'm officially 32 weeks pregnant (that, my friends, is 4/5 of the way done). Let me tell you, this last week has been the hardest. Why? I got stoned. 

There are some good stones- Rolling Stones, Tim Stone (my personal favorite). Then there are some bad stones. These kind appear in your kidneys with jagged little edges and make you want to rip your face off. 

My mom gets kidney stones...a lot. I never quite understood how painful they are. I do remember about 15 years ago, I got a call at work that Jakes dad was at the ER and they thought he had a heart attack. Nope. Kidney stone. A few years ago, Rhonda Jett missed work because of kidney stones. These are all badass people taken down by millimeters of calcification. So, lets just say I respect the stone. 

You may recall my fb past last Saturday about some back pain. In retrospect- that was a hint to my body that I missed. This past Saturday, the first day of college fb season- my favorite day of the year, I hit the couch to watch some games. This attack was a blindside I cannot begin to describe. Out of nowhere I felt this horrible pain in my lower left side. Basically it felt like I'd been kidney punched. I tried everything- a hot shower, lying on both sides, heating pad, ice pack, yoga positions to move the baby. Finally, when I find myself on all fours, rocking and crying- I knew I had to call the doctor. The person on-call told me to go to the ER. I was in Cullman- so we went to that hospital. 

Here's a pregnancy benefit: when you're as pregnant as I am- you don't wait in the ER. You go to labor and delivery. Thank goodness. All I needed in my moments of pain was to worry about what I'd catch from whom. EW. 

They wheel me up and get me nekkid. I pee in a cup and they draw some blood. They hook me up to a fetal heart monitor and a mommy monitor. One nurse, not the kind Brenda who is my only positive memory of the place, comes in and gruffly says, "You notice blood in your urine?" Ummmmm. No. 

Finally, as we wait for the doctor, I ask (you know, for Michaels sake) if we can turn the game on. I'm such a good wife. 

Doctor John Wideman (remember his name and run if you ever see him) comes in, says I probably have a kidney stone, maybe a UTI- but he isn't sure so he doesn't want to give me an antibiotic, and since I'm pregnant, sorry- not much to do for me. They give me a shot of Staydol (fast acting, short lasting) pain killer and send me out the door. 

A few hours later I'm calling to see when I can take Tylenol...the pain is back. I sleep and wake up Sunday feeling better. By about 2 pm, the pain is back and just there. By 6 pm, I am calling the on-call person again. I'm using Tylenol and a heating pad- but in pain. At 2 am ( one hour after going to bed), I wake Michael to tell him we're going to Birmingham. By 2:30 (and about 20 mikes down the road), the pain is lessening- so I tell him to come home. By 3:30, as a storm is rolling in, I'm waking him again. This time the pain is at its worst. I call St. Vincent's and tell them I'm coming. 

I walk in the door, they put me in a room. I get nekkid again, I (finally) pee again, they hook me up to monitors. Soon a nice doctor comes in, tells me they're going to do an ultrasound, check blood, and then tells me I'm not leaving until I'm better. Novel, I know.

By about 12:30, the pain is pushing a 10. It's sudden and I jump out of the bed, sweating, calling for help- I'm pretty sure I'm dying. They give me a shot of Staydol- which helps. I think around 4:30 the big attack hit. This time I'm out of the bed, ripping all of the monitors off, pacing, crying and mention that I'd like to rip my kidney out by hand. Quickly, they give me a different shot and it knocks me out. 

This drug continues every 3 hours (or so). My last one was at midnight- which gave me about 4-5 hours of good sleep. I woke up the next morning and haven't had the pain again. We think I passed it, but I was stoned a straining my own pee....so? Did I mention that they had me on an IV the whole time to flush my kidneys AND gave me an antibiotic. 

The funniest part- always a bright side- was my child. She refused to allow them to use that heart monitor on her. She'd let them catch her heartbeat and then kicked, wiggled and squirmed away from it. My kid much? 

I've had a horrible headache since release. I'm sure part of it is coming off of the narcotic cloud, and part of it is living on saltines and water for a few days (yes, they offered me food, but nooooo). 

This story has a sequel about etiquette when sharing hospital space, but I have to get to work! 

Life at 29 weeks...

Okay, as much as I don't get those "Pregnant and didn't Know It" pregnancy shows, I also don't get those people who think the being pregnant thing is amazing. I love the IDEA of being pregnant, I love the outcome, I think it is amazing to watch my body change. I suck at being pregnant. 

Right now is a great example- Harper Grace is doing the cha-cha slide in my belly. THAT is amazing. At the same time, my bladder hurts from her river dancing. 

I'm at week 29. Depending on the source, HG weighs between 2-3 pounds. Basically she's like a crockpot on warm...developed but needs more time to perfect. People are telling me ill never make it 11 more weeks, lets hope I make it at least 7. 

Things that suck at 29 weeks:

- having to pee hourly

-waking up with a puke taste in your mouth from heartburn

-stupid comments from people like "this walking will do you good" or "the baby is making your face fat"

-the ongoing worry of leaking amniotic fluid...thankfully it's (ugh) discharge

-horrible hand and wrist pain at night

-the need to buy a powerlift chair to get my big butt from the couch

-exhaustion

-it's becoming impossible to shave my legs, I can't reach

-temper.

Things that rock at 29 weeks:

- feeling my baby kick regularly

- feeling my baby kick regularly; and

- feeling my baby kick regularly.

I'd be happy if I could wear gauchos and tank tops every single day. I'm in a size 11 flip flop (they're too long, but they fit the width). My fake wedding band is having "too small" days. Argh!

We (haha) have a painted nursery and have furniture ordered. We have yet to get our other big items...we have 11 weeks, right? :) We've taken our baby class. I've hardly packed my apartment. Seriously. Who has energy for that?

We have 3 baby showers scheduled- all strategically scheduled around football! One of my precious AEA members is hosting a member shower, Michael's family is having a Cullman brunch, and my closest friends are having the big she-bang! (PS- I put a call out for those who wanted to be invited to send me addresses...if you didn't and want- send it). 

My latest stress is being out on bed rest. I have exactly 14 weeks of possible paid leave, so every week I make it is another week I could spend with the baby after she's born. I must make it 6 more weeks to not have to borrow from the sick bank (a cool thing for education employees!) and have enough paid leave to heal from either a c-section or regular birth. Note: I'm not using the term natural- that means drug free. Sorry red ribbon week. 

So that's the biggest topic now. I was certain I wanted a c-section. Clearly I have no desires to wear a two piece. I love the idea of scheduling her birth (I'm a planner and it might be my last scheduled anything ;), I love the idea of not being ripped in half by a baby's shoulders. People. Have you met my husband? Then there's the diaper, sitting on ice and a spitz (?) bath. 

Now I'm freaking out about this uterus massage thing. I want what is best for HG. Oh and will they have scrubs big enough for Michael to come in the OR? For real, one time the hospital tried to send him home in trash bags because they didn't have anything to fit him. My husband must be with me for this!!!

Then there is the worry about will I be a good mom, will I be able to breastfeed, will I fall asleep when I'm supposed to be feeding her? That's the short list. 

Well, I have to attempt to get some sleep...since I have to get up before the sun tomorrow. It might be hard since the assholes upstairs are ready for football season and are walking like elephants. 

My wishes for you, baby girl.

I can't think of anything that consumes me more than my hopes and dreams for my little girl. I am so nervous about how we will do at parenting. Michael? Not so much. He just says, "If ___________ can do it, so can we." 

I want her to be beautiful (and not in a "I'm her mom so I have to think so" way). I want her to be smart, to be loved. I want her to be her own person, a leader and a positive influence on others. I want her to get her daddy's singing voice and some magical athletic ability. I want her to love to read. I want her to never worry about who loves her, family drama or feel pain because adults are assholes. 

I want us to have a balanced relationship- where she comes to me with life issues, but not where we go out and party together. I want to support her, make her feel good about herself and love her. I want her to have her dad's logic, reason and his ability to fix things with his hands. I want her to have my passion for causes and my work ethic (oh-and my sleep patterns!).

Most of all, I want her to have a daddy. I don't believe that there is a more important relationship, in the world, than a father/daughter relationship. A girl needs to see her daddy be a good man. She needs to see him respect her mom and his own mom. She needs to see him show love and affection. Don't get me wrong- single moms do an amazing job daily- but I want my little girl to have a daddy. 

I want her to melt his heart when she calls for him, to see him on the floor playing Barbies or teaching her to use her pink hammer. I want to walk in and see her asleep on his chest. I want her to know that she is his princess and nothing will change that. I want her to know that no boy better break her heart and when "the one" comes along-he goes to her daddy to ask for her hand. 

I can't get through Steven Curtis Chapman's song, Cinderella, right now without crying. That's what I want for my baby girl. 

As a child, I had "that" relationship with my dad for about 6 years. It was magical. I remember my pride when he helped to teach my PE class. I remember coming home and snuggling up in the big waterbed with him. I remember birthday cards with strawberry shortcake and his writing inside. I remember seeing tears in his eyes- tears for me- as we moved from California. I remember the trip just he and I took to help him move to join us in Indiana. I rode my first roller coaster on that trip, and rode on his shoulders when we ran out of gas. I left his wallet in a Wendy's and I don't remember that he yelled or screamed or anything. 

That's what I want for my baby girl. I want her to feel a love so precious that any man who comes into her life when she's grown- has to compete with that. 

Fathers be good to your daughters

Daughters will love like you do

Girls become lovers, that turn into mothers

So mothers be good to your daughters too.