To My Second Born

I was terrified to have you.

I was terrified to share my heart with you.

I remember taking the test in the middle of the night. I had just put Livybug to bed. I thought ,” there was just no possible way.” Alivia was going to be my one and only child. I was already torn up that I had to work and be away from her. But now …. there was gonna be you.

Your dad was working at Wendy’s when I sent him the text . It was 2 in the morning and I had no clue how I was supposed to feel. How do you deal with not only one unplanned pregnancy , but now a second one?

I even kept you a secret . Until I couldn’t anymore. My belly was growing and people were talking. It had to come out eventually . I had swelling in my feet , my belly was poking out of my once flat stomach. It was time. I was met with a lot of disappointed people . Not because of you, but because of me. Careless decisions one right after another and I had yet to have a stable life only to bring another child into this life that I had no idea how to manage.

I just went through the motions of the pregnancy each day , sort of in a cloud of uncertainty and numbness. I was scared . I was scared that I didn’t love you. I was scared of expanding my heart to fit you too. I was scared you would get here and they would put you in my arms just for me to give you back. I was scared of you.

When you took your first breathe , I cried but it wasn’t the same . I was scared to face you. I was terrified of not loving you. I heard your cry and all the fear in the world left me and I screamed ,” My baby! My baby!” and held my arms out to you. I kissed your itty bitty nose , and touched your beautiful black hair and I fell in love just the way I did with your big sister.

Now you look at me with those big green puppy eyes and my heart stretches even more each time. You’re almost seven and the only time I’ve ever been terrified is the many times you’ve landed in the E.R. . That sounds about right , second child syndrome , the rough and tumble, freak-mom-out kiddo. I’ve watched you become the most resilient kick ass little kid and I couldn’t imagine my life without you.

No one can pronounce your name , and since it’s Alessa , they think to themselves ” less is more ” and that is what helps them remember your name. I couldn’t agree more.

Alessa is more than just another kid

Alessa is more than just the second child

Alessa is more than that fearless 6 year old

Alessa is more than just an outspoken character

Alessa is gonna rule her world one day and she isn’t gonna take shit from anyone. She is going to be a force to be reckoned with.

When I watch you walk to the tumbling mat with your shoulders broad , and your head strong I see you standing tall ready to take on anything . You look like a superhero to me. I hope you realize how powerful you are and I hope you use it for good one day. In the mean time I will do the best to always love and support you. I used to be scared to love you , but loving you is all I know how to do. I love you my Alessa , everything you do in life will be absolutely amazing , and more…

Scrapbook Memories

The Final Photos

When I first started writing about this I wasn’t actually planning on making it a ” series ” . It wasn’t until I saw the final photos of the inside of the trailer my grandmother owned as it stands today that I felt the undeniable urge to just keep writing. I was able to find a few pictures that captured a similar angle as the ones my grandma took so many years ago. Some with myself included , some only with memories attached. In these final photos I wanted to include the trailer that was next door to my grandma’s that we happen to live in.

These photos include people from our family that I no longer speak to. They include photos of my father who passed away years and years after these photos. They include moments from memories that were most painful to me. I keep them because at the same time there were great memories intertwined in all the dark memories. Weird huh? How that works ?

I want to start with the rest of my grandma’s side of the land where we spent most of our days, mostly because that’s where my best memories lie.

Next is the living room . Where we watched the best cartoons and usually where all of the cousins and I slept when we had sleepovers at grandma’s. Imagine a pile of about eight to ten kids snoring!

Here is the living room now . The wall paper and the carpet are just the same!

The rest of the home include pictures of bedrooms and bathrooms that I don’t have personal pictures of so here is where I will include photos from the other trailer that I lived in next door to this one instead. This trailer came with so many memories as well. In fact, I remember living with my grandma and my parents in this one until about 1998 ( or so ) . That is when she bought the trailer above and had it moved to our land.

I’m sure there are more , but I think you get the point. I mentioned before , there were alot of painful memories here but the good ones, they have been with me through this entire life time and I’m sure with many more years to go! Alot of what built me came from this gravel road. Sometimes the smell of wet tree bark on a rainy day , or something cooking in the kitchen that takes me back and a wave of nostalgia hits me . I end this with saying I don’t hate the fact that we had to move away . I hate how it had to happen , I hate that it felt like a little section of my childhood was ripped away from me, but the life we were able to create from there on out led me to many more beautiful people . My best friends , my step mom , teachers that make huge impacts in my life , experiences that I may have never got to have. I have alot to be thankful for . Thank you for reading my Scrapbook Memories.

Scrapbook Memories

Then and Now

As I was sifting through the photos online that I had found of my old home, I happen to come across part of the land as seen in my last few posts , but also my grandmother’s trailer . I didn’t mention it before through all of the excitement of finding them that we actually lived right on the other side her trailer in a single wide blue trailer.

Our trailer was run down and beat up compared to grandma’s. No heat in the winter some years . Other years in only parts of the trailer. In the summer it was fans in open windows even during the hottest point of the day. Black mold had grown from our window sill and down the wall from where it leaked. I remember Mom going at that wall with pure bleach and a pair of gloves and it never did a bit of good.

Since the photos from the realtor’s website only shows my grandmother’s old trailer , this first bit of photos I am about to share will only include such , but I will add in future posts our home too. There is just no way to exclude it as part of this entire story.

I wanted to start with the lake view from Grandma Sarah’s backyard mostly because it reminded me of the picture my grandma took of me standing right in the view of the lake from the hill. As soon as I saw it online it instantly brought me back to that day. Grandma had her disposable camera and was taking shots of the land , I’m sure for her memory but of course myself and my cousin Chase happen to be there . The view of the photos my grandma took are much closer and in the middle of summer so the trees are in full bloom , yet I knew instantly the exact location of the picture as soon as I saw it.

When I came across the photo of the actual trailer , I almost didn’t recognize it because they made such a drastic change to the porch. My step Grandpa , whom my grandma divorced shortly after my dad passed , had actually built the original porch and it was nearly the length of the trailer. Here happens to be the then and now that also included my cousin , and me standing on the porch crossing my arms . Of course with a ton of sass.

Last but not least ( I have so many more to come in future posts) , the famous ol’ gravel road. The road I talk about so often right along side that lake. It was the same gravel road my dad scraped my off of when I decided I was gonna win that bike race against my cousins. Like Dave Batisa said ,” No scars , No stories .” and boy I sure still have that weird lookin’ scar . Maybe I’ll include a picture of that in the next coming parts if this story.

This really has blossomed a ton of memories that flash through my mind like an old film . I know that there were some traumatic moments here , but I just want to revel in the happiness that anchored my heart there. The pictures just don’t do it justice . I can still hear the silence right before the wind rustled the trees , the crickets and frogs. All of it. So before I end this let me show you a picture of myself in a state of pure bliss , riding my bike , just the happiest little girl alive.

Scrapbook Memories

The Family Lake

I mentioned a few days ago about being home sick about my childhood home. I haven’t seen it in years. Last I knew it was private property so I can’t just hitch a ride to go reminisce .. From time to time I search on Google in hopes that someone some where has posted the land online.

I typed in the address today and it pulled up the very lake I speak of so often and I cried and cried and cried. The picnic table is still there. The house on the other side is still there …. The view is exactly how I remember it.

The trail, the same one we walked so many times is still the same , though it has more grass . I just can’t believe it . My grandma’s trailer is still there , the inside looks the same other than a few changes to wallpaper , cabinets and the porch…. The sheds are gone but the bones of all of my childhood memories are still there ….

I live in my memories very often and I’m not sure if it’s a bad thing but ….. to me these memories are the memories that built me and I’m afraid of losing them. To me , revisiting them keeps them fresh in my mind. The smell of summer rain , the soil and gravel and wet grass. The crunch of the leaves , and the sound of a fish catching at the end of dad’s pole. My heart is a little bit happier today .

There were some sad memories …. those are hard to look past too. I just focus on the ones that made me feel the most freedom and bliss as a child instead because it’s what I miss the most. It was fun….lot’s of memories.

I plan to go through my pictures tonight to give you a glimpse into my snapsot of memories with the pictures I found today . Stay tuned. ❤

References: Images retrieved by Google , website link:

Scrapbook Memories

Homesick for Home

Keokuk, was never actually my home.
My home was down the gravel road that led to a dead end in Kahoka, Missouri. It was surrounded by wooded area that was eventually met by a lake. I think I’ve mentioned that before.

From time to time I get a little home sick too. I miss it. I remember exactly what it looked like and I remember the address . The last time we drove up that rode was September of 2004. Seventeen years ago. I make it sound like leaving was a  tragedy I’m sure , but that was home.

Home was chasing frogs and worm hunting
It was running barefoot down the same gravel road I wrecked on
Home was hoppin’ on the back of the small metal wagon hitched to the riding lawn mower to the lake
It was gettin’ on the boat and fishing
Home was helping dad build our very own teepee
Home was watching all the uncles and adult cousins have fireworks wars on fourth of July
It was holidays and family gatherings
It was snow ball fights with the cousins
or flying across the homemade zip line Dad made us out of our broken swing set
Floating in the kiddie pool all day long
Or helping mom take the clothes off the line in the middle of the night

I remember the way the chalky gravel felt during those hot scorching summers or the snow the way it would lay like a blanket . The way the air smelled after a good hard rain , and in the middle of the night there wasn’t noise pollution of cars or motorcycles or people partying . It was bull frogs and crickets, starry nights and fireflies ❤ I miss those days but I miss home the most.

Homesick for Home