Well, since you asked.

And many of you have.  What’s UP with UP?

The observant of you may have noticed that every time I use the word UP, it is in caps.

Some of you may have figured it out already.

For the rest, here’s why.

I have two nephews and four nieces.

Over the years I’ve gone from Unkie Paul, to Uncle Paul, to Crazy Uncle Paul, to simply UP.

I believe it was Jenny, my lovely niece from over at Mommin It UP who started it.

And well, it stuck.

All my nieces are lovely, all are wonderful, but Jenny got me started on this crazy ride in the blogosphere.  So, what’s UP with UP?  It’s a tribute to her, just a daily way of saying thanks for the encouragement, pimping me out to all her bloggie friends, and sharing me with her readers.

Though Jenny’s blogged about many, many things, from CVS to her grandparents, to her kids bathroom habits, I’m the only Uncle she’s blogged about – thus far.  You can check out what she’s had to say about me here.  And, she’s even let me “guest blog” on her blog!

Now you know, that’s what’s UP with UP.

Today, my beautiful daughter turns 25!

It seems only yesterday that I stood by the daddy nurse at Orange County Hospital and watched as a team of doctors sliced her mother’s stomach and pulled her into this world.

She was stuborn from the get go.

Breech, two weeks late, no labor on the horizon.   And she weighed 9 pounds and 5 ounces.

Seriously, who’d want to have a baby like that naturally?

And it took  nearly 8 years for Shelby to come along.

One of those childless couples the doctors could give no reason for their childlessness, we were told to just come to grips with the fact that we would be a family of two.

We had frankly, accepted it.  All our friends were having babies, lots of them.  We were jealous, we were petty.  We wanted children.  And it just didn’t look like it was going to happen.

Flashing back to 1977, I had my first date with my wife the same day I picked UP my very first real car.  Some would say my last real car.  It was a brand new, ordered from the factory Ford Thunderbird.  Black, red leather interior, all the bells and whistles.

It was gorgeous.  Quite frankly, it was my pride and joy, my prized possession.  I babied it – a lot!

Warp to 1984, Orlando, Florida.  We were young, we wanted a family.  We were told “it probably isn’t going to happen”.

Adoption agencies, we checked them out.  Every one of them wanted what was to us a small fortune.  But we were willing to make that sacrifice.  And we were ’saving’ for it.

Enter Rev. Bob Ware.  Love him or hate him, agree or disagree, the man knew about sacrifice, and he knew about encouraging people to make sacrifices for the Lord. 

He had a crazy idea that it was time to turn the church around.  Literally.  It was just about the most unactractive church in Orlando.  Every one went to the front of the church only to find no doors.  They were in the back.  It was confusing and it was – in a word – stupid.  He wanted it changed, and it was going to take money, serious cash, lots of it, and money the church didn’t have. 

Everyone had to make sacrifices, and we decided to as well.  To screech to the end of this part of the story, we donated the car and enough cash to equal what an adoption would cost. 

And, after that sacrifice, TLW got, as Jenny and Em would say, knocked UP! 

Some may say there is no connection, but I don’t believe it.  I’ll never stop believing in miracles – I’ve seen too many.

Shelby is one of many, and one of the best.

Born July 18, 1985, she stopped crying as soon as she heard her mother’s voice.  We sang together all the time, and she recognized our voices the minute she was born.   I suppose she just wondered why the sound was more clear, and where all the light was coming from.

We doted on her, she was easy to spoil.  She slept through the night at three weeks, never got sick, and was never fussy.  We’d put her in the nursery at church and people would say, “that’s the best baby, she’s no trouble at all.”  We were proud.  We took her everywhere.  No one complained. 

She followed her mother around like a puppy.  Wanted to do the things she was doing, and brought both of us so much joy.

She loved purple.  And teal.  And black.  She had a fashion sense from the start.

When her brother came along 3 and a half years later, she relished the “big sister” role.  She helped her mom, rubbed his head when he cried, soothed him, and tried to calm him.  He was a “tad” fussy.  They remain close.

School was a breeze, she was as one teacher said to me, a “teacher pleaser”.  She wanted good grades, worked for them and wanted to make the teacher happy.

There were the N-SYNC years of course, a few side pony tails in the 80’s and 90’s and a flirtation with purple nail polish.  But never any problems.

She loved church, loved going, loved the youth group and though I worried about some of her friends, I never worried about her.  She made good decisions.

After graduating with honors, she headed for Georgia College and State in Millidgeville, GA.  University of Florida being out of the question for financial and my “religious” reasons – go Dawgs – she stayed in Millidgeville for the next five years and granduated with a BSN, passed her RN boards in June and was immediately hired at a hospital in Macon, where she works today.

 She’s always been easy to love!

Like I said, I’ll never quit beliving in miracles, I’ve seen to many.

Happy Birthday Baby!

The headline yesterday was, “19th Duggar Baby Goes Home”.

If only that child knew what she was getting into, I’m guessin’ she would never have left NICU!

I realize that God told Adam and Eve to “be fruitful and multiply”, but they were the only two here, and He was talkin’ to them, He had a great big planet to fill UP, and the Duggars didn’t come along until, I don’t know, 10,000 years later.

I’m one of five children.  That was big enough.  Three bedrooms, one bathroom, extra underwear, lots of memories, but at least child count was low enough that I can remember all their names!

My mother was the baby of I don’t know how many kids, after all, both Grandma and Grandpa were married twice.  Grandma had umpteen kids with her first and was widowed at 37, and Grandpa’s wife left him with three kids to bring UP.  My grandparents met –  well, actually they were second cousins, so I’m sure they met long before - married, and had some more kids, two of whom survived, and then adopted three or four more, and one of them survived.

But, they had a farm, they could raise their own food, it was back in the early 1900s.  Things were different.

It’s a free country, religious beliefs on the issue differ, so, have as many kids as you want.

Seriously, I don’t want to hear from the Pope (as I’m sure he reads my blog!).

But really, isn’t enough, enough?

Nineteen?

Prior to the pill, condoms, and other methods, I’d have said they were just horny!  But now, it seems to be about “production”.

Serioulsy, nineteen?

And there’s another crive, all the names start with the same letter –  J. 

Jim Bob (surprise, surprise, surprise) and Michelle Duggar had 10 kids with the chicken pox AT ONE TIME!  Baby Josie couldn’t come home on time because the rest of the family was toxic and the house was a rookery of disease. 

One of the kids has already married and knocked-UP his wife, so baby Josie, won’t even get to live and grow UP with him. 

Is that really a family?

And, to beat all, baby Josie weighed in at 1 lb, 6 oz.  I’m thinkin’ Mrs. D’s child-bearing years may have come and gone.  Why take the risk? 

I say it’s time for a vascular intervention!

Snip, snip anyone?

Honest, Jim Bob, you won’t feel a thing!

While at lunch Sunday for Father’s Day, my son told me my blog was “all over the place”.  He added, “You know, Jenny’s has a purpose, all that mommy crap, your’s is just everywhere.” 

My eyebrows went UP.

Then he added, “Kinda like wikipedia.  And, sometimes their kinda long.”  (I got him to define “kinda like wikipedia” – TMI, too many facts, information overload, too much history!  Well now!)

Hmmm, he may be right, and that’s probably why I get no swag!

He’s lucky I’ve nothing to leave him, ’cause he’s out of the will!

And at least he sprung for lunch!