The Robinson Clan

Sorry to be Debbie Downer lately, but it's just the way I am feeling. I ache for Dr.Parks family, especially her 2 year old twins. I just can't stop thinking about how they are going to grow up without their amazing mom.  She loved them SO much. I can only hope and pray they grow up knowing this.

So, I am taking this opportunity, since I'm all gooey and sappy and sentimental right now anyway, to let my kids know just what they mean to me. My time could be up tomorrow and I need them to know. 

I think I was born to be a mom because I just can't imagine it any other way. I can't imagine a life without you guys and I wish I was eloquent enough to explain what you mean to me. I'll give it my best shot.

Presley- my first born. Wow. I'm not sure what happened to my heart the day you were born, but it grew. Exponentially grew. Maybe when you become a mom yourself you'll be able to understand.

Kaylee- you make me smile. You say and do the funniest things. Every time I think of you, I think of something you have done that has made us laugh. I didn't give birth to you, but you are my child.

Emily- Just like Kaylee, I didn't give birth to you, but I am so happy I have the privilege to be your mom. You are so anxious to please and make me so proud everyday with what you are becoming.

Jude- My sweet, dimpled, curly haired, crazy and sometimes SO challenging little boy. It is so MAGNIFICENT having a BOY like you. I always wanted a little boy, and was so happy when I saw what you were. (Funny story here... we wanted to wait until you were born to find out what you were. During my last big push, Dr. Parks exclaimed "Push! He's got a big head!!" Oops! No one else noticed it but me... she was so embarrassed she thought she ruined the big surprise. Of course she didn't-  you entered the world a few seconds later. Dr. Parks was the first to give you some little boy, blue onesies).

Jesse- I don't even need to try to express this love because I know you feel the same way about me. I married the perfect guy for me. You're my best friend.

Somehow becoming a mother to four children in the span of 16 months just worked for me. It is hard, really hard sometimes (and I have had my fair share of stressed out, psycho moments), but it is somehow just so right.

I have heard the Eskimos have 22 words to express love, whereas the English language only has the one. I wish I knew some of those 22 words to better explain this, but I don't... so it will have to suffice to repeat what you guys say to me all the time- "I love you to OUTERSPACE!"

I do not know what the master plan is or how much time I have left here, but I wanted to make sure you knew... just in case.

So... while I am on the subject, let's talk about my last wishes, cause I just don't know where else to document this.

1) I want every single organ and ounce of me donated. Give everything- eyes, skin, organs, etc. to someone that needs a transplant. If my organs aren't fit for transplant, stick them in a jar of formaldehyde and put them in a classroom somewhere. Cut all my hair off and give it to a wigmaker. Just don't make me a cadaver... I don't want too many people staring at me naked. Then cremate me and spread my ashes around my home.

2) You are allowed one sentimental song at my memorial service. Might I be so bold as to suggest "November Rain" by GNR, or perhaps some Elton John or Michael Buble? OK, maybe two sentimental songs would be OK.

3) If you do a slide show of pictures from my life, please make sure any zits, wrinkles or stray hairs are photoshopped out of the pictures. Jodi can probably help you with that. And I know it will be tough, but try to pick pictures where my hair does not look too big. And lately my head has also looked really big in every picture I take, so try to shrink it down.

4) I don't want my family to spend a bunch of money on a fancy memorial service, but I do request Prince and Bon Jovi be played. As loud as possible. And I want my friends to dance, not in the aisles, but ON the pews (since dancing on furniture is somehow so very fun) and I request Jesse to do the robot just like he did the night I met him.  I won't request any back flips since he broke his heel last time he performed that little move.

That's all.  

My next post won't be so sappy or depressing ... cause I'm usually a "glass is half full" kind of gal. Promise.