Once Upon a Time...there was a beautiful princess...

The year was 1983...

On a cold February morning in Indiana (Valentine's Day, to be exact - Oh, and 3 weeks later than I was due), my mother brought me into this world (and she can take me out of it! <- Who's mom didn't say this little gem to them lol). I entered a family of two young, but very loving, parents, an (almost) 3 year old older brother, and a close-knit and supportive extended family.

My parents named me Kimberly Eileen. My father wanted to name me Krystal, but my mom said "NO!" She thought that 'Kimberly' was such a beautiful name, and it also happened to be the name of all of the popular girls at her school (throwing me a little luck maybe?). They chose 'Eileen' because that is my mom's name, and even though she doesn't really like it, my dad loves it!

I had 10 fingers and 10 toes, and now...I had a name. I was their daughter, and they had all the plans in the world for me - hopes, and dreams, and love.

My parents didn't have a lot of money when my brother and I were young and my father was not home very much because he worked 4 jobs so that we could eat, and have new shoes for school, and warm beds every night... He even took me to Toys R Us all by myself one time, and bought me the Miss America Barbie with the sparkly blue dress and silver sash that I wanted so badly. And at 8 years old with a new doll in one hand and my daddy's hand in the other...God, it was the best day of my life...

*I have to stop here for a second and share something with you. I have said some hateful things in the past about how angry I was that my dad was never around, and how could a father chose work over his children. I always held fast to the idea that I needed to forgive him, but in reality, it was I who needed forgiveness from him. No matter what I did as a teen/young adult, I always held that little piece of anger towards him for not being there...and then I had children of my own, and I understood. I understood being ready to do ANYTHING to care for and protect my children and family. How I would sacrifice EVERYTHING I had to make sure that their lives were the best that I could give them. I could never imagine the pain of not being able to see my children grow up. And I see that same pain every time my husband deploys. I know the hurt and the pain and the tears that come from a father who wants desperately to be with his children, but who chose to do right by them, by providing for them, even if it meant he couldn't be there. I have spoken to to my dad about this many times since then. I know the hurt that I have caused him and the regret he still holds for not being around as much as he wanted to be when we were kids. I genuinely believe that my dad has forgiven me for the things I have said in the past. And I honestly believe that this is one of the main reasons that he is such an amazing, loving, and devoted grandfather to my children.

I was a rotten and ungrateful child, I was a bratty teenager and I was a stubborn and bitchy young adult. I wish more than anything in this world, that I could go back to those days and tell those little girl versions of me to just SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY, that one day they would know with all of their hearts that their father loved them and that everything was going to be OK - My dad and I now have an amazing relationship. I consider him a spiritual leader and often discuss religion or seek guidance from him. We both love to write and we talk about writing pretty often too. My father owns his own company and understands what I am going through with my business, offering encouragement and advice. He also recently graduated from college which was a huge motivation for me - inspiring me to return to school and obtain my Business degree. I am so incredibly proud to be his daughter. He is a good man and a good dad, and I just wish that I had realized that sooner*

*OK Kim, breathe in, resume post*

Growing up with one brother was pretty cool, it means I didn't have to share him AND that I would always be his favorite sister! Of course we fought and got on each other's nerves, but we always had each other's backs. Kind of the "She's my sister so I can be a dick to her, but I swear if you hurt her I will beat the ever living piss out of you" mentality. We definitely got into our fair share of adolescent trouble, but we were always there for each other. I always say that no one will ever know your childhood (or life), like the person who lived it with you. And for me, that person was my one and only brother. I have to honestly say that, to this day, my brother is still one of my best friends - past or present, and Hell, even future! He's also the only person allowed to call me out of the blue at 3am, that I WON'T punch in the face...

I know some people might be wishing for some juicy drama here, but honestly, I lived a really normal childhood. My father didn't drink. I was never molested, abused, or neglected. My parents never divorced. I might not have had everything I wanted, but I always had what I needed. I grew up in a Christian home and was baptised at a young age. I excelled in school. I had a lot of friends - I've even had the same best friend since middle school. I was involved in church and school activities. I played softball. I sang in the choir. I was in color guard, and the French Club, and the editor of my high school's literature magazine.

I had hopes, and dreams, and loves of my own...

At 18 years old, I held the world in my hands, and honestly, I wanted it all. Fresh out of high school, my plan was to go to college and obtain a degree in Journalism. I was going to be a foreign war correspondent. I didn't want to stay in my hometown. I didn't want to get married right away. And I sure as heck didn't want any children until I was 30, at least...

I had my life planned out and I knew exactly who I wanted to be... THIS was going to be my future, I just knew it, because at 18 I thought I knew everything...

But life, or maybe God, had other plans for me. Plans that didn't involve going away to school and living in a dorm with my crazy friends. Plans that didn't include a Sorority house. Plans that meant that I would never, could never, do something as dangerous with my life as a foreign war correspondent. No... these plans revolved around morning sickness and back pain. About the shame of being a teenager with a round belly - unmarried, scared, and alone...

Plans for my life that I swore never wanted, melted away with the birth of a wide eyed and moppy headed little boy. Plans to travel the world, turned into walks to the park. Plans to stay up late to study, turned into all nighters with a screaming infant who had GERD (a type of acid reflux).



I was child myself, but here I was living a 'grown up' life. I still went to school, choosing a local college instead of out-of-state, I worked a full-time job as well as a part-time job, just to make those ends meet. I had this tiny little person who never knew about my plans, and looking into his sparkling brown eyes, I'm not much sure I cared... We were in love - Desperately dependant and whole-heartedly devoted to each other. We might have been alone in the world, but dammit, we were never lonely...