DINKs

I've known the term DINK (dual income, no kids) for quite some time, but I guess I never really thought of it as something to describe James and I. Maybe because we're young or maybe because there's a posibility of us having kid (yes, singular). But the truth of the matter is, we're in our late 20s, we both (some of us more than others [; ) have paying jobs, and we've been married for (23 days shy of) 5 years. We are DINKs.

So I recently joined a site called DINKlife, and while I'm not fully active and engaged, I am at least reading the reports of active discussions coming into my email. One of today's top forums is "What do you say when someone asks you when you're going to have kids?" My dad has a good response to this when people ask when they're going to be grandparents - he tells them that only old people are grandparents - but I don't have a good retort. I typically say "We'll talk about it when I'm 30." But I may adopt some of these...

"We tried to raise some plants, but they died, so we didn't think it was a good idea to move on to something more difficult."

"Who knows, but we are having fun practicing!"

"Oh? Is there a shortage of children somewhere?"

"We don't have the budget for it. We've maxed it out on airline tickets."

"Why do you want to know?"

For My Momma

My parents married straight out of high school and soon found themselves with two young children and wanting a better life for their family. It was my dad who continued working so my mother could pursue her degree in education. As far back as I can remember, my mom was attending college part-time, which set an early and lasting example of the value of education and the importance of staying dedicated to a task for my sister and me.

I watched my mother start her career in her early 30s, make several tough job decisions and eventually go back to school for her master’s degree before landing her “dream job” at a low-income school – when she was nearly 40 years old. Since then, I have truly seen the amazing woman my mother is. She has become a well-respected leader in her district, a mentor to other teachers and a “mom” to many children without stable parents in their lives. When I see her at work, I am so proud to say that I am Mrs. Schelat’s daughter.

Throughout all of this, my mother also showed me how to be an all-around good person –volunteering in the community, leading my sister’s Girl Scout troop, pushing us to always reach higher, and cheering me on from the sidelines at every game, meet or competition. She is half of a 32-year marriage, an amazingly supportive daughter and is truly one of my dearest friends.

My mom may not have changed the world, but she was shaping mine. Like many others, I see it more now than I ever did when I was growing up, especially as she has now taken in my husband and his sister after they lost their own mother, and she has been just as wonderful to them as she’s been to me. My family is blessed to have her, and I am incredibly grateful every day.

Day 16 – Your first kiss

I plead the fifth. It wasn't with DH, so I don't care to re-hash.

Instead, I want to say how wonderful my husband is.... I love you, boo!

 

Georgia Tech Football: Whiteout vs. Miami - September 2009

 

Oysterfest 2010

 

Hoover Dam - Feb. 2010

NYC - June 2010

Destin, Fla. - July 2010

August 2010

Auburn beats Alabama - November 2010

Park Tavern -  December 2010

First Anniversary, August 2008

Mini-honeymoon, September 2007

August 25, 2007

 

Georgia Tech - September 2009

Sunday, March 19, 2006

I don't say goodbye.

I don't like goodbyes. Really, they're the worst thing ever. They're so final. So sad. I just dont feel as though they're appropriate for any time.

When I was, I think, a sophomore, maybe a junior, my great-grandmother died. She'd get pnemonia every winter and that year, she told my grandma, her daughter, that she wasn't coming home from the hospital this time. She was done.

I got to see her before she died and it was so sad. I think it was only the third time I'd ever seen my father cry. First, when his dad died. Second, when my grandma's next husband died. And then when she died. Great Grandma Shephard. Pearl. With her secret-recipe bananna bread, her sweet pineapple cookies, her pink carpeted sitting room, olive green living room, her beautiful afghans and endless potholders, her polyester shorts, her permed hair... all the wonderful things I miss about her...

In her last days at the hospital, she started telling my Grandma what she wanted done with her stuff, her money, her house. She told her secret ingredient for her fantastical bananna bread. She was so peaceful and calm about everything.

The last time I saw Great Grandma was one of the saddest moments of my life. We visited in the ICU and she was barely making sense. My beautiful grandmother, who went to college in her 50s and became a teacher, who lost her husband years before she died, who took care of her own elderly mother until she died at 102, maybe 103, was dying. My dad cried as we said our goodbyes... only she woudln't let us. She just kept telling us it isn't goodbye, it's until we meet again. She wouldn't let us say goodbye. She made us say until we meet again.....

And that's why I hate goodbyes.