Fact or Fiction Friday: Baby Fever

It’s that time again. Time for another stretch of the truth or nothing but the truth, the whole truth. That’s right it’s time for another session of Fact or Fiction Friday. You can play along too but writing your own Fact or Fiction post and linking it up at the bottom of this one. You know you wanna because it just SO much fun!!

Last week I told you: I planned my wedding in just 2.5 months time. Our wedding site was a charming community center beside the river. My colors were pink and brown. My one bridesmaid paid almost as much for her dress as I did mine. The guests were allowed to eat while we had our pictures done and I’m still mad about that today since when it was all said and done, the whole process cost us $1,400 with the biggest expense being food. We paid for everything ourselves.

Yep. This is all true, right down to the colors. It even had a “theme” of Two lives, two hearts, one love.

If I did it all over again, I wouldn’t change much. I can promise the guests wouldn’t be eating during our pictures either!

You want some proof? Here you go!!

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And now for this week’s Fact or Fiction:

I started on my role as a mother at an early age. I’ve had 3 pregnancies and 4 live births. I labored for over 36 hours with my first pregnancy, but never went into labor again. My first birth was drug-free and over within 45 minutes. All of my babies were breech.

So, what say you? Am I pulling your leg, is it mostly true, or all true? You decide and leave your guess in a comment.

Want to play along? That’s easy enough. Write a post revealing fact or fiction or a combination of both, add that snazzy little Fact or Fiction Friday button somewhere in the post, then come back here and link up the url to your post. It’s that easy!

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Have a fabulous weekend!!

Just Call Me Half Pint

I’m just going to put it out there. My childhood sucked. My father was abusive in every way imaginable. As such, I spent a lot of my time escaping in books and tv shows. Grounding meant no tv and at a certain point in my life, that was the absolute worse thing you could do to me because I needed my dad fix.

You see, once a week I put myself on the show. I mean, they took in three extra kids that weren’t theirs. What would one more be? I didn’t even care about chores. Besides I don’t think I ever saw anyone but Dad work anyway. My sisters always seems to be at play, running through the creek or climbing up mountains. Life on the prairie looked pretty darn good to me when I was 8 and Charles Ingalls was my dad.

 

He worked hard, always with a smile on his face. He loved with a rare passion, going to great lengths in the snow to rescue his children or help a friend in need. His relationship with Caroline was something worth admiring and I really wished that my mom had that same relationship–kind, loving, but with a firm hand. He knew how to dish out the discipline so the lesson was learned without stifling the spirit of his very spunky Half Pint.

Half Pint. Man, how I wanted to be called Half Pint. I wanted to be Melissa Gilbert. I wanted to call him Pa and feel his love gushing over me for real because I can promise you, he touched my heart every week.

I wanted a daddy like Charles who would come in swinging on my future husband because he hurt me deeply. A dad who would go to any lengths to protect the family he loves. A dad whose love was felt unquestionably. The perfect father for a daughter to have.

Fierce, strong, hard working, loving, and involved. All these describe the Charles Ingalls I saw growing up and wished I had for a dad. Life on the prairie sure looked sweet.

This post was written in response to Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop prompt #1: What celebrity dad would you have picked for yourself?