This is the final post in a five-part series on my blog called “The Road.” This series will chronicle the events of my life leading up to meeting my wife, the events that transpired after, and how it has led us all to where we are now. The series will end not by my hand, but by my wife’s. Some of this will be very hard for me to write, and as a result, will be hard for you to read. Some of you will think differently of me afterwards, but I ask that you please don’t get halfway through this series and stop. In the end, maybe you will find something here that let’s you know you aren’t alone. The roads we travel are unique, but they intersect often. I have changed almost all the names in this story in order to respect individual privacy.
Part Five: The Call
This post is from my lovely wife, Alicia. You’ve heard my story about The Adoption, and now, for the first time ever, she’s telling hers in a written voice. This has been lightly edited, but I’ve not added or removed anything that would detract from her words.
Greetings from the Missus.
Most anyone who knows me knows that I am not a writer. I don’t enjoy writing, as a matter of fact writing in general is the main reason I have not started work on my Master’s Degree. I do however feel that I want to share just a little bit about the importance of the month of May to me.
All of my life May was a great month. As a kid it always signaled that school was out and swimming was beginning. May, also was the one month out of the year that I knew we had standing plans for Memorial Day. Every Memorial Day weekend my Mother, Father, and I would pack up the car and take our family vacation. Please…Please hold your excitement. Our family vacation consisted of a weeklong visit to Kentucky. “Why Kentucky?” you might ask. Out of all of the places in the United States, why would we drive that 11-12 hour car ride just to visit? Well the answer was simple…Family. All of my family lived in Kentucky and, more specifically, Nelson County, Kentucky. So May has always, just like Kentucky, held a corner of my heart as my favorite month of the year. Now I am grown and no longer make that yearly trek with my Mom and Dad, but May still holds strong as my favorite month.
Last year in May we received a phone call from our adoption Case Manager, Jennifer. Jennifer made a habit of surprising us with phone calls and visits over the next seven months. This call in particular was to set up an appointment to learn all about these two kids that needed a Mom and Dad of their very own. So on May 12, 2011 Travis and I set down in a little room with nothing more in it than two stacks of paper, a desk, and three chairs. In those two stacks of paper were all of the details – some heart breaking – of these two little kids. We sat there and read each page trying to absorb all of the information, then came the fun part.
Jennifer asked, “Well do you want to meet them?”
At that moment all I remember is trying to keep calm while my brain was screaming, “Bring them to me now!” Instead Travis and I looked at each other and said. “Yes.”
One week later we were on a two hour journey across the state to meet these two little people at a Chuck E. Cheese. I remember the entire week before this trip all I could think about was will they like us? Will they be scared? Do they look like their picture? How am I going to be able to leave them? What if Travis changes his mind? What if I change my mind? What if we are not good enough?
I tortured myself for a week about all of the things that could go wrong. I remember praying for them. As a matter of fact I remember praying for them the day we decided to adopt. I didn’t know their names but I remember praying that they were ready for us and we were ready for them. I prayed that they were safe and being loved while we were getting our paper work done. However, all of the peace and assurance I had from the beginning was being rocked because of “what if.”
As always I was worried about nothing.
I looked at Jennifer and Travis took a deep breath and we all climbed out of the car. When that white state van opened a little blond haired girl came running around the back of the van and around the front of the car screaming. “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.” She wrapped her arms around me and just clung to me. The little blond haired boy was a tiny bit different. At three, I can imagine it was hard to understand what was going on, but he did understand that we were there to see Chuck. That little boy had us on our toes the entire day. I am telling you his eyes were as wide as saucers and he didn’t skip a beat. But we had fun, took some pictures, bought some flip flops, and said goodbye.
|The first time we met them. Also Chuck. Aven’s eyes are about the size of Chuck’s ears.|
Two days after that we were on a three and a half hour journey to watch a little ballerina perform her heart out for her “New Mom and Dad.” This was our first few hours alone with the kids. We were nervous and ended up lost with the kids and the low fuel light on, but we made it back. We got to meet the foster mom and say goodbye for the last time.
On May 27, 2011, a repeat trip in the Groom’s truck was made to move these two little people that we’d only met a week ago into our home. We had that truck packed with stuff. Now let me say most foster kids don’t come with anything more than a trash bag of clothes but it was easy to see that this little town loved these two kids. They had so much stuff it took me days to go through it all.
When we got home that night we had a house full of family just waiting to meet these two little people that were changing our lives forever. Most people would say that it would be scary for those kids to have all of those uncles, grandparents, aunts, and cousins there just to see you. You haven’t met these kids, because they fit in with our family better than most of your blood relatives probably do.
|First family portrait.|
As we are once again into my favorite month, we are celebrating our one year anniversary as a family by taking a family vacation. Don’t worry we are not going to Kentucky this time. We are headed to Florida so the kids can visit the beach for the first time on their first family vacation.
If I had any advice to give anyone looking to adopt it would be to look into the state system first. I understand that most children in the system have a history, and that you will probably not get that baby you have always dreamed of. However, you will find children that need love and who have so much love to return. I still want that baby someday, but I could never imagine my life without our two kids. They make my life have a meaning that it never had before.
|Alicia with the kids. I’m not there, so the smiles are bigger. Especially Alicia’s.|
My Corsica was hunter green not blue. Travis has trouble telling the difference between blue and green. Just ask him about the Fossil watch I bought him for his 19th birthday.
Editor’s Notes: That watch was green, and that car was blue. That’s my stance.
The Road is not over. It will be continually traveled for the next seventy years or so, Lord willing. Hopefully with less pain, fewer bad decisions, and not as many missed opportunities. I also hope you’re all there to share it with us. Thank you for reading.
The book of love, is long and boring,And written very long ago. It’s full of flowers, and heart-shaped boxes,And things we’re all too young to know.The Book of Love – Peter Gabriel(Hey guys and gals. It’s Memoir Monday time! This is where you write down a story about yourself, steal my button down there, drink a beer, and call it all a win. The only rule is that it has to be true, other than that, there are no rules. I keep getting more and more people to follow my lead! It’s catching on! Will YOU be one on the bandwagon this week? Once you post, let me know, and I will link you up down there for all my kick ass bloggy followers to go and read! Y’all are the greatest, and I love you. If you want to see all the Memoir Monday posts, just click on the book!)
Well, that title should probably alienate the rest of the readers I have left after getting rid of most of them by telling the entire internet that apparently, I have a small penis.
I’m gonna make that the last time I mention that.
I found out that a 14 year old girl and all of my brothers church friends read my blog, and I probably need to clean it up around here, with the exception of TMI Thursdays.
We all know that won’t happen.
This is about the Memoir though. So let’s get started.
I have done some crazy things in my sleep. Sleepwalking is one of the worst, but I think I’m over that now. The last time it happened, I was about 16, and my dad almost shot me as I walked out the door at 2 A.M. to go to a friends house.
The Missus says I talk a lot in my sleep. I fully believe that this is because I can’t shut up even long enough to get 8 hours of sleep.
However, this is a story about her, and why I’m afraid to go to sleep first when we crawl into bed tonight.
One night, we were enjoying a peaceful nights sleep. Crickets chirping quietly outside, the howling of neighborhood dogs, and my Powerstroke diesel engine-like snoring.
I woke up for some reason. I don’t remember why, but it probably had to do with dogs howling. Which is why I think dogs should be shot. Don’t give me any shit over that, either.
Anyway, I wake up, and my lovely bride is staring right at me.
Right. At. Me.
My first thought is, “Hey, alright. Some midnight action!”
I was soon proven wrong.
She stares at me for about 2 minutes, and finally I ask, “Hey, are you okay?”
She reared back and punched the ever lovin SHIT out of the headboard.
I’m not talkin a tap here, folks. This was a punch. Have you seen The Hangover? The scene where Mike Tyson punches Zach Galifinakasisassasissaisiaasis?
Yeah, it was every bit of that hard.
I don’t mind telling you, I pissed myself a little.
As soon as the punch was completed, her eyes closed, and she hit the pillow. It was the weirdest most scary damn thing I’ve ever witnessed in my marriage.
I couldn’t go to sleep for hours. I just kept imagining what it would be like to take that punch. Especially just being asleep, and not knowing it was coming.
When she woke the next morning, her knuckles weren’t sore at all, and to this day, she doesn’t believe a word of this story.
It happened though, and for sure, I don’t go to sleep first anymore. I watch. I’ve also perfected my rolling out of bed technique, and if need be, I’m not afraid to sleep on the couch.
I also learned that if I ever have to fight The Missus, I need to develop a defense for a right hook that has the ability to put a dent in maple. I really think that subconsciously she wants to hurt me, and she wants to hurt me bad.
Can anyone give me karate lessons? I think that might be the only way I’ll survive this thing.
Other Non-Sleep Punched Walks Down Memory Lane: GO READ THEM!
Quixotic’s Memoir Monday: How I Developed My Life-Long Fear Of Kombie Vans.
Jeff’s Musical Memoir Monday: Felmo Is Free.
Kristin’s Memoir Monday: Today Would Make Me 33.
Aunt Juicebox’s Memoir Monday: Ripped Off.
Corrie’s Memoir Monday: Hyperactive From Conception.
LMJ’s Memoir Monday: Camel Toe. (Yes, It Is What You Think It Is About.)
Angel’s Memoir Monday: Why Children Should Wear Cowbells To Bed.
Josh’s Memoir Monday: Holy Mole-y!
Meeko’s Memoir Monday: Sort Of.
Daffy’s Memoir Monday: Hood Style.
I don’t know how many of you know this, but The Missus is in her last semester of school, which includes a full internship with a fourth grade class.
She comes home with stories, and I laugh, and I cry.
This caused me to do both.
You see, she had a birthday the other day, and the kids made her cards. This was one of them.
Folks, I have to tell you, it gives me great comfort to know that there are these kinds of kids out there. It thrills me to know that somewhere out there, there is a little girl that wants her teacher to have such a good birthday, she’d give up her last 50 cents to give her as a birthday present, instead of trying to buy candy with it, which is, let’s face it, what I would have done with 50 cents.
I was also glad to be hit over the head with this around the holiday season. This is the epitome of unselfishness. This is the kind of giving that each and every one of us should be thinking about around this time of year.
The Missus told me that she tried to take the tape off to give the quarters back to the young girl, and the girl started bawling, telling her that it was her present.
I hope this causes some reaction in you today, and I hope a large part of that reaction is hope.
And yeah, my third reaction was to the word “presant.”
I looked past it.
I think we’re going to frame this, and put a caption underneath that has the title in it.
Have a nice Sunday, folks.
If I had it, rest assured I’d give you all my last 50 cents as well.
Alright, guys and gals. I told you it would happen, and the day is here! You get to meet the woman behind the man, the Lois Lane to my Clark Kent, the Lucy to my Ricardo, the love of my life, my favorite fishin buddy, and my best friend! All told, we had about 35 questions to pick from, so I just wrote them all down, and had her pick her favorites. Instead of giving credit to each individual question, I’ve added a credits section at the end of the post listing all the people who asked questions, and their blogs.
Alicia’s answers will be in red, and if I had anything to add, it will be done in blue. Here are a couple of pictures of her, and she’s also going to pick her favorite post! (Yes, she reads all of my blogs! How lucky am I?)
* Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in red are those of The Missus and should in no way be used to form opinions of Travis, Kid Funk, or Big Guy.
1. How did you meet Travis? What was your first date like? Was it an all you can eat shrimp dinner at Red Lobster? Did he pay?
Well, I met Travis at the lovely local Wal-Mart. The first date that we had was a simple dinner at Arby’s on our lunch break. I was turning 17 that day and we both had to work so he spoke with our supervisor and arranged for us to go to lunch at the same time then found me and asked if I would like to go to dinner with him. At this time I was not really impressed with him as a person so I said, “yes.” This at least would get him to shut up and leave me alone if it ended badly. Oh, and yeah he was cheap. I paid for mine and he paid for his.
*I’ve always said she’s the best thing I’ve ever gotten at a Wal-Mart!
2. Which aunt out of all of Travis’ aunts is your favorite?
Let me say, “I love all three of Travis’ aunts.” I love Angie because I see a heart of gold when I look at her. She spends her time taking care of her family and going to school and I admire her ambition and drive. She also helped me win a bet with some other family members when her youngest was born on my birthday. I love Karen because she and I share a favorite color, Red, and that she makes her decisions based on what is best for her family. I love Kathy because of her personality. She is so funny and real. She is never ceases to amaze me with her non stop on the go life. I think I would pass out if I ran all over the country the way she does.
3. What is your “favorite” Kid Funk story?
My favorite Kid Funk story takes place about 5 years ago. All three of us were working at the Sheriff’s Office. Travis and Kid Funk had the night off and I didn’t have to go in until 10 pm so when they decided to have a little party I figured I would go until it was time to go to work. An hour with Kid Funk, I could handle that. Well we get there and Travis, Kid Funk, Big Guy and a few other where there drinking and have themselves a good time. Knowing that I had to go to work in a few minutes I asked Kid Funk this question. ” Do you have any nonalcoholic beverages?” Kid Funk, ” Yeah, all of those 2 liters in the fridge are good.” So I find myself a plastic cup, fill it up with ice, open the fridge, look in, and see a two liter bottle of lemonade. Thinking to myself, ” lemonade sounds good, I have not had any lemonade in a long time.” So, I open the bottle and pour it in my nice icy glass. I bring the cup to my mouth take a huge drink and immediately begin spraying liquid all in the sink and gagging like I have never gagged before. The lovely inmates taught Kid Funk how to make hooch, jail house liquor. As I am in the kitchen dying from this repulsive taste my my mouth the boys yell, “what’s wrong with you?” Once I was able to speak again I said, ” What was in that lemonade bottle?” Kid Funk started laughing like I can not even describe and then my good buddy Big Guy said, ” Man that’s not right.” Hearing this I walked into the living room and Kid Funk still laughing tells me that I just ingested this nasty mess he learned to create from the inmates.
*Heh. Anyone singing the song by Everything? I do every time I hear this story.
4. How much Duct Tape do you use a month putting Travis back together after all his sporting mishaps?
I think I can answer this question with 1 roll. The only time I had to pull the duct tape out was when I recieved a disturbing phone call from him during a time that he should have been playing basketball. The call went something like this.
The Missus: Hello
Travis: Oh, OH, Oh AIicia I think you are going to have to take me to the hospital. I finally did it.
The Missus: Did What????
Travis: Oh, Oh, I cannot drive.
The Missus: What did you do? Where are you?
Travis: I am going to my mom’s. You are going to have to come and take me to the hospital I broke my ankle!
The Missus: You did What? Just hold on and I will come and get you.
Needless to say we put a brace reinforced with duct tape on him that night so he could sleep.
*There is so much more to this story. I almost cussed in front of my mother. I’ll blog it sometime.
5. You’re almost finished with school. You are working towards becoming a teacher, like my wife. Have you given much thought as to how bad an idea that truly is?
I have been asked this question before. I have had a calling to work with children since I was in the 2nd or 3rd grade. At first I thought I was going to be an OB Nurse. In nursing school I learned that I didn’t do well with death and children or old people so I found out that nursing wasn’t the answer. I took some time off of school and worked at the Wal-Mart. I finally found my love for teaching while working in school suspension at the local high school. Knowing that teaching is hard and the pay sucks I also know that children need someone to love them. Sometimes the only love a child knows is that of his or her teacher..
*Words can not even begin to describe how proud I am of her for almost being finished. She’s gonna make a great teacher!
6. What’s your favorite thing that Travis cooks for you?
Biscuits and Sausage Gravy Hands down the best in the world!
7. When you first met Travis, what was your first thought?
If that boy doesn’t leave me alone I might just have to put out a restraining order on him.
*She told me once it was something about my ass…
8. Was Travis your first choice at true love, or had you just reached the bottom of the barrel?
First love no, first choice when I met him no, but I quickly found out who he really was and fell in love and from the age of 17 I knew I was done looking for my soul mate.
9. They say, “Behind every good man, there’s a great woman.” Do you ever feel like shoving him out of the way?
Shoot that is why I went back to school to push him out of the way.
*I’m really hard to shove.
10. Did you like to fish before you met Travis?
Absolutely, I dated another guy before Travis that I went fishing with.
*I’m currently getting this boys address. Ed and Jeff, you rollin with?
Bonus Question, because I (Travis) liked it so much.
Do you have any problems sharing Travis with all of his followers? Do you ever feel jealous or threatened by all the attention he’s getting?
The blog, ha no. I am glad that he has something to do to keep him busy. I do hate however that he wants to write when it’s time to go to bed. I hate trying to sleep when he is not there. I don’t want to be wondering where he is when I have to toss the next crazy neighbor.
*She is currently in bed while I finish this post. I’m such a horrible husband… My creative hat fits so much better late at night, though!
Favorite blog post and why:
Um, My favorite blog. I would have to say the 2 mile walk. I love the graphics it just makes the story so much better when you have a visual.
There you have it, folks! I hope you’ve all enjoyed meeting the woman behind the man! This may also give you a look into why I love her so much! She’s definitely very patient, and she also is willing to try new things! Like kind of blogging! Show her some comment love, and we just might be able to get her into a blog of her own one day!
Of course I’ll have to proofread everything… 😉
I love you babycakes!!!
Credits for questions:
Ed, Jeff, Jeanette, Amanda, Daffy, XIBalba, Jennifer, Tori, Supermom, Elizabeth and Tamara
(I want to thank all of you very much for making this very interesting! The Missus had so much fun with the questions, and she wishes she’d have had the time to answer them all!)
(I had this post all typed up today, then hit the publish button only to realize that I had disconnected from the Internets to type it up. It goes without saying…the post was lost. Also, I was pissed. So here is take 2, which will undoubtedly be less funny than the first. That’s how the sugar free cookie crumbles.)
It has come to my attention that I have too much free time.
This discovery happened last night at around 7:30 when I turned to The Missus and said, “It looks like I’m gonna be in bed by 8 again.”
No answer. Because she was already asleep on the couch.
I’m not sure what the word is to describe us, but I think “pathetic” does it nicely.
Folks, I am 26 years old, with no kids, my job is not stressful, I don’t get up at 4 in the morning to go to said job, and I don’t have insomnia. Every once in a while I’ll cut a mean fart in bed that will keep me up for 10 minutes or so, you know, to appreciate it, but that’s about it.
Last night made 2 out of the last 3 nights that I’ve gone to bed at 8. It’s getting ridiculous.
It’s not like we have the money to just go out on the town, and even if we did, Wagoner, OK is not known for it’s swanky night life. The Taco Bell stays open till 11, but if you go anytime after 9, they’ll say they’re out of beans, meat, cheese and tortillas.
So here is what I need. A second job. Nothing that keeps me out late, but something that keeps me up until a reasonable fracken bed time. Instead of actually looking for a job though, I am going to make a list of things I’m good at, as well as things I’m bad at, and you all are going to process it, then call any relatives you might have down here, and tell them to hire me. A bonus to this is, if I have a second job, I will probably have funny things happen to me, which will in turn bring a lot of joy to you, the reader.
Things I’m good at:
Giving my opinion
Making you laugh
Sitting for long periods
Kicking kittens and old people
Things I’m bad at:
Having low blood sugar
Multiplication with a number over 11
Division with any number bigger than 0
Keeping my mouth shut
There ya have it. That’s my lists. Chew on those things, then call your uncle/aunt/grandmother/grandfather/mom/dad/sister/brother/friend/best friend/guy from high school/girl from high school/girl you banged once but kind of like because she had a cute body, but she also had a kid which made you wonder whether or not she was just wanting a daddy for her baby/guy you banged once but you kind of like because he was…ahem…blessed, but he also had that funny bump not really ON anything, but kind of close so you don’t know whether or not it’s really safe and you’re STILL waiting on those test results, and tell them you have the man for the job.
Unless that job is eating cauliflower. You get me that job, I will come and bite you.
(You have less than 7 hours to get your questions in for Meet the Missus! Go HERE to ask them, or just send me an email! I NEED MORE QUESTIONS!!!)
A while back, I posted blog on the sort of general white trashiness of my hometown. I put a couple of pictures up, and made a few comments. Some of you may remember, others may need to click those orange words up there.
Apparently, someone has been reading my blog.
I really can’t think of any other reason for this:
Yep. I’ll give you the Sloats Abridged Encyclopedia Entry for what you see here.
Bra Tree: Any tree that produces fruit of the genus Boobus Holdus from the family Supportings Garmentus. The Bra tree can be found in areas of the Southern Central states, and is usually found in areas with a large mullet wearing population. It blooms in early summer and in late summer, usually when large amounts of alcohol are consumed in the area. The most common fruit it bears is the leapordi skinnus, which is usually small in cup size, although larger ones can be found if the classiness of the area has been called into question. The tree doesn’t do well in cold climates or in large towns and cities. The fruit can be harvested, but it takes a certain type of person to do that, usually someone with no moral compass and/or teenage boys.
So here’s the thing. I really don’t know if this was done in response to me blogging about it, or if it was done because, well, people get bored and drunk on Saturday nights. It honestly could go either way, and I’m not sure I want to find. out. If anyone wants to leave a comment about it that knows what’s happening, feel free to stay anonymous. Also, if you want to add to or rectify my encyclopedia entry, just consider this Wiki. Enjoy.
(Also, there is just one more day for the Meet The Missus questions! So far I have about 7 or 8 questions, and I need more!!! Get on it, people! Go HERE to leave a question, or email them to me! I will stop taking questions at midnight on Wednesday. GO!)
Alright, alright! Everyone put their questions in this comment section if that will make you feel better! We better get 10 questions though! Once again, you may ask whatever you want, as long as it’s not real sexual in nature.
I was layin around in my underwear the other night, and I had an idea. My idea was this: I have some followers now, real close to 50. In other words, my shit has kinda blown up. This tickles me in a way that is best left for you not to hear…ever. So I thought that I could let y’all meet the lady that I call The Missus. I thought, “I could take questions, then I could let her answer them.” A lot like Tamara’s thing she has going on that brought a large portion of you to my little slice of Internet. So I asked her about it.
“Do I have to type a blog?”
“No, just answer some questions.”
You see how thrilled she is?!?!?
So here’s the deal, folks. Next Friday, y’all get to Meet The Missus! From now until Wednesday, I’m going to be fielding any questions that you might have for the woman that was lucky enough to snag this hunk of…well…yeah, I don’t know.
I’d like to set up a few guidelines, if you will.
1. Please refrain from asking her why she doesn’t just divorce me for another man. I really don’t need her thinking about this.
2. Try not to ask any…ahem…sexual questions. I’ll just tell you here that I am a beast in the bedroom. That is all.*
3. Other than those, there are no rules. I will be choosing the 10 best questions and also asking her to pick her favorite couple of blogs. I’ll have it all ready to go next Friday, and you can all Meet The Missus!
One more thing, please don’t beg and plead her to get a blog. She isn’t going to do that. She’s a very busy lady, and she simply doesn’t have the time right now. She’s got about 11 weeks of school interning left, and she gets to be a teacher!!! I’m so proud of her!!!
Please send all of your questions to tstyles77 at gmail dot com. See what you do there? You just replace the at with @, and the dot with . and you’ll be all set up to go. Feel free to submit more than one question, and if you do, please tell me the question you’d like to have first considered for asking. Also, please tell me the name that you’d like to have yourself identified with as well as a link to your site/blog, so that I can link you to the question. PLEASE DON’T LEAVE QUESTIONS IN THE COMMENT SECTION!!!
*The phrase “That is all,” is actually what is said by me quite frequently in the sack. Sigh. I’m so embarrassed.