fall blog

Sunday, September 30, 2012

A boy on the move.

My son is six weeks old. Today he got on the move. Today he decided he was going to scoot during tummy time. He can not have tummy time with a pillow under his chest. He is a man on a mission. He face plants 3o seconds after being placed on the pillow. Then he's stuck. So no pillow. He scooted off the blanky last night. It took 20 min to travel 7 inches but he did it .. He is a man with a mission. Determined to go... Somewhere. I am curious as to where and why.

I washed my hair...muahahaha

Hailey has a problem. She is not grossed out by toilet water. This is a problem because a couple of times she has washed her hands... in the toilet. That was pretty gross but today she reached a whole new level of EW I can't believe you did that! Today I sent her in the bathroom and she shut the door. When she didn't come out 2 minutes later I sent Daddy in to check. This is what I hear.
Gigglies.  " I washed my hair Daddy!" "Gross you don't stick anything in the toilet. That's gross. You need a shower."  " O.K. Why?"  " Because you put your head in the potty." " I put my pee in the potty too." ( Mommy is laughing hysterically in the other room.) " That's just.. that's. Ew Hailey you need a shower. People poop and pee in the potty. Don't put your head in there. "  "Why?! I'm gonna get in the showerwer. I like a showerwer. " I wonder if my son will have this strange desire to wash himself in the toilet. At least she hasn't started drinking out of it.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

A good ending to a bad day.

Do you ever have one of those days? You know the kind. You wake up and you know this isn't your day. My Day started out OK. Both kids were cuddling Daddy in bed and I had a chance to start the coffee pot. That was where it ended. My son, who is very vocal, decided mommy was the only one who could make him happy. My daughter decided mommy needed to give her "coffee" in her sippy, and we all decided to go to Walmart. At Walmart my daughter wet her pants ( I always keep a spare), my son had a meltdown, and then I had a meltdown. In the parking lot I just started crying. Not hysterically or anything but I don't cry normally so it was shocking to all. Hailey thought I was sick.  We had to run a bunch of errands still so we finished what we could and headed home. There I was pampered and giving relaxing projects to work on while I cuddled my cranky baby. (As relaxing ans any project can be with my helper. She wants to do everything I do. She wants to sew, wash dishes, and make "dough").

Randy tucked Hailey into bed. She cried, and Randy made a sad face, she said," You can't be sad." Then she drifted off for and hour. I had and hour of quiet. Then madness broke out once again. My daughter enjoys a good a good rodeo. She used to ask me to " Throw her down and tie her up." Apparently she is still fond of a rodeo. When I came out of the bathroom she had my measuring tape and had wrapped it around one of her brother's feet and was working on the other. That kind of set the tone for the day but we decided that I would take a "mental health" day. No chores, just spending time with the kids. We had fun. Then we went and got Daddy from work and he treated us to frosties. That was lovely. Then Blake threw up on everyone. One nice thing about my little man is I can wash him in the sink. Between Blake's poopies, and Hailey's accidents there was a full load of wash to do. However, they redeemed themselves. Blake has been sitting like an angel in his swing, staring at the lights as usual, and Hailey asked me to color with her and we had a great time. Then after I tucked her in she said, "you ARE beautiful!" O the subtle art of flattery.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

I need a Hair cut

My Daughter tells me everyday, sometimes twice a day, " I need a haircut mommy, you need to cut my hair."  Daddy needs a haircut all the time but with two little people its hard for me to get to everyone's head. My head has been sorely neglected. Four months ago I did a drastic makeover and cut nearly 14 inches off and had it dyed a really pretty brown. Well the brown has faded to nearly my own dull color and my hair has grown a good three inches. I need a hair cut.

I could probably get it cut at Walmart but I see some really scary things come out of there. I'm afraid I'll come out looking as strange and deranged as I feel. There is of course the problem of finding ten minutes to get my hair cut. It never takes ten minutes. You would think it would only take 20 at the most but I've never had a haircut that took less than 30 minutes. I'm not sure why. I apparently have very difficult hair. The hairdresser never fails to tell me how thick and fine it is. They also tell me all the cuts that I like won't work for me. Have you ever tried to find 30 minutes of peace away from a two year old, who wants to cut your hair herself, and a 5 week old who wants to eat all the time? Impossible! I think hairdressers should allow time outs for mom's. They probably don't' because they are like the rest of us.If I stop in the middle I'll forget what I was doing.

What I really need is someone to teach me how to do my hair. Then maybe I'd be able to do my daughter's hair. It's turning out just like mine... in a ponytail everyday.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

A new song...everynight.

My daughter has a ritual for bed time. This is something she came up with herself. We do the normal getting ready for bed routine and tuck her in. She now insist that Blake snuggle with her while we read her a Bible story. Then comes and Oliver story or a Curious George story. After that we sing two songs... one song is a song that she makes me make up on the spot. I'll ask her, " What do you want to sing now?" Then she will point to her shoes, or her toes, or tonight it was her bunny rabbit. The funny thing is she remembers these songs and expects me to remember the words too. I'm not sure why she likes this so much... I'll give you an example of my poor lyrics.

The Bunny Hops song.

The Bunny Rabbit goes
One Hop One Hop
Please don't stop
Please don't stop
The Bunny Rabbit Goes
One Hop

The Bunny Rabbit goes
one two, Hop Hop
What to do What to do?
The bunny Rabbit Goes
One, two. Hop Hop

The Bunny Rabbit Goes
1,2,3, Hop Hop Hop
Follow me Follow me
The Bunny Rabbit Goes
1,2,3 Hop, hop, Hop

The Bunny Rabbit Goes
1,2,3,4, Hop hop hop hop
Through the door, through the door
The Bunny Rabbit Goes
1,2,3,4 Ho Hop Hop Hop

The Bunny Rabbit Goes
1,2,3,4,5 Hop Hop Hop Hop Hop
Stayin alive, stayin ALIVE!
The Bunny Rabbit Goes
Hop Hop hop hop hp
That's were we are going to stop.

The shoe song was pretty similar to this. She has warned me that she wants a song about Eayore...

Colors

My daughter refuses to learn her colors. She knows what you want when you ask for the green block, and she insists on eating the blue m&ms first but she refuses to tell you the colors when you ask. I know I shouldn't get frustrated... I was much worse. She comes by it naturally too. I can't put colors together to save my life. In a couple of weeks we are going to do our photos up in the mountains and I don't have a clue what we'll wear. How is it that with four people I can't find one color that we all have? The other thing I can't figure out is what colors go well together. This has been a problem all my life. As a kid I wore some wild combinations, now that I'm all grown up I still can't color coordinate. Everything goes with blue jeans but if I have to wear colored pants or a skirt I generally weAr the same color. Brown pants? Brown shirt! Black pants? Black sweater. Now I have a whole group to color coordinate! At least my dog is black.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Sunday morning madness

Sunday, the day of rest, a day to worship, a morning of complete insanity. I love going to church, once I get there, getting ready to go makes... well just say we are a family with a newborn, a two year old, an insomniac Daddy and a sleep deprived, slightly deranged Mommy. This Sunday was a little more crazy than usual. This Sunday I fell asleep after the 4:30 A.M. feeding, THIS Sunday I was supposed to play piano ( not something I excel at) and THIS Sunday I had spent the night comforting a cranky child and doing unspeakable things in the bathroom. O yes, I went there, but I had to so you would understand why I had become the most raving lunatic in our asylum.
I 4:45 A.M. I fed my son and was burping him when I thought I heard the creak of a door, but since my daughter didn't appear and ask "what you donin?" I dismissed it as being nothing until I went back to bed. Then I saw it. A sweet little vision in pink snuggled with her best friend, on the floor next to Daddy's side of the bed. Well, well, a sleep walker. Just what I need, I already have one! I disturbed them and made the dog sigh and glare at me and I made my daughter cry for 15 minutes because she didn't know why she had to go to bed again. She has great skill with the words why. After I got her into bed I fell into mine and was awakened by the melodious cries of Blake. Well shoot! I only meant to sleep for an hour! Hailey is up 10 minutes later. Have you read my blog about the shower? This time instead of shoes I hear question like " can I was your but?" and " Are you naked?!?" Which is immediately reported to Daddy whose trying to keep Blake company. Then the toilet flushes.... It's really HOT now! I get out of the shower. It's 8:30, my husband needs a shower, I need to get dressed, I need to dress the naked maniac that is jumping on my bed and feed her, the baby needs to be dressed and that's always fun because his dress clothes are even more limited than mine! Growing and shrinking make clothing in short supply. Now my husband is able to dress himself and is generally helps me keep sane in the morning but this morning he was up half the night because he's an insomniac and we need to be early because I can't practice at home. ( Try playing an instrument with a two year old and a baby in a snugly... It just isn't quality practice time.) The poor church has to get along with my Sunday morning run through and then we just muddle through it. They are troopers.
My dear daughter and I discussed at length which "princess dress" she was going to wear, once she was dressed I fed her bread with butter and some juice, which she fed me for awhile while I fed her brother. Hey at least I got to eat something!!! Ok. Somewhere in there I got dressed and let the dog out, and forgot about him but hey he's a polite guy. After peeking in the window at us for awhile he politely banged on the screen door... 12 TIMES! Finally released from the baby and putting him protective custody ( Sister likes ot pick him up) I manage to find her hair clips. The Sunday morning war ensues. Have you ever tried to comb a two year olds hair when they want to drive their truck?! It's exciting for both parties. O wait!!! I have ADD and I forgot to let the dog in. The dog is in, he is fed, and watered. What do I need to do now? Husband is dressed, baby is screaming and not dressed, little girl has no shoes  and is spreading the contents of our diaper bag. I can't remember what I was going to play! Wait. I don't have shoes. Take a deep breath, wish for some coffee. Mommy keeps telling Hailey to put her shoes on with no luck while Daddy keeps trying to calm down the naked baby. I still haven't found any clothes. 5 min. Ok... Daddy takes over the shoe situation before Mommy goes nuts, Mommy roots through he bin in the dark closet until she finds something to wear. 3 min. Daddy gathers the diaper bag contents, and finishes the princess toilette. I get the boy dressed and he wets his diaper. I change it, while I change it he pees on his pants. New pants are found. 1 Min. Baby is dressed and buckled. I quickly grab a blanky for him because the church is cold and run out the door... I run back in. Forgot those shoes! We make it to church with just enough time to run through those songs...
About church well that's another story. 

Bath time: a mother's revenge

My Daughter has been referred to as a mud puddle. This is an apt description. She is a messy, messy girl. She and my dog have discovered the flower box on the front of our house. They have destroyed it.
Hailey and Jack take turns cover each other in a thick layer of fine UT sand. Then they come inside and cover everything else. O the delight of pouring dirt over your puppy until his shiny black coat is grey. She is very pleased with how excited he gets the more dirt she applies. They race into the house and run from room to room rolling on the floors. It's ok... Bath time is coming. The muddy footprints in the tub will be washed away along with the mud on the child. 
My daughter loves the tub. She climbs in when its empty and sits there yelling " you have to fill the tub!!!" She loves the tub, but she hates to be scrubbed. So every night I get my revenge. I laugh wickedly as I apply soap to a extra soft washcloth. I gently scrub the toes while she screams her grief over the loss of her mud treatment. She laughs desperately and attempts to "swim" away as I wash her "arm holes". I'll wash her armpits two or three times during a bath. Then comes the ultimate torcher. The washing of the hair. O yes. This is revenge indeed. She screams! She splashes! She has to wash a section of my hair. Then she emerges clean! This is depressing for her and within five minutes she begins to get dirty again. But there is always another bath and I will exact my revenge.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

The dream of children

Before one actually has a child one often fantasizes about what it will be like. It's funny, in none of my personal fantasies did I dream about what happens when i am dreaming and they are not.
One lazy Saturday we made the mistake of staying in bed after my angelic looking daughter rose from hers. I said angelic LOOKING right? My little Picasso took her favorite black crayon from wherever she was hiding it. (She likes to keep one or two and put them in the couch cushions for later. She does this with goldfish as well.) we have a white hallway. Agh! The perfect canvas . She was very thorough. She was very proud. Mommy I coloreded! Come see my color! I think I am in love with the inventor of the magic eraser. I THOUGHT I would be smart and have her help me clean. That was a big mistake. It turns out she really likes to clean. She still likes to make a mess so she " hafta clean it up!" i never dreamed that would happen.
As I was laying here with my son just a few minutes ago, typing a blog on my iPod about yard sales and drifting off to sleep while he cooed contentedly in my ear, I discovered something else kids like to do that I never fantsized about. Namely projectile vomit into your ear. Now my bedding is in the wash and he is cooing happily... In his own bed.

Friday, September 21, 2012

My Two... maybe three kids.

When I said I had two kids I think I lied. I really have a third child whom I take with my almost as often as I take the other two is an 80 lb black lab name " Jack Sparrow". Jack was dropped off at friends of ours when he was just a little 20 lb puppy. We thought he'd grow to a decent 40 lbs or so... when he doubled that I was a little disappointed. He is a sweetheart who loves everyone and just about everything. He had one besetting sin which has earned him the nickname Harry, as in Harry Hudini. A master of the escape, Jack introduced us to all our neighbors for miles around. We would shut him up in the house for the day and go to work, Jack would consider this his opportunity to go visiting. He loved sitting on our neighbors porch. So we locked him in the house with all the doors closed. The house we were remodeling and had removed the basement stars. Jack jumped down to the basement and escaped out the storm doors and introduced himself to the lovely lady down the street...He brought her a 1/2 gallon of milk .  We aren't sure where he got that but we knew something had to be done. So... Justin, my middle brother, came and installed an underground fence for us. Jack ran away from Justin a couple of times and Justin had to carry him home! He never left us again and to this day we can let him out and he just relaxes in our yard. Well, he  does visit our neighbors occasionally. He was my first baby. I loved him dearly but we knew it was time to try and have a real baby the day we went out for ice cream and took him to the kiddy park to play!

Enter Hailey the Hiccup Monster!


Around this time we decided to take a two-three year assignment in UT, where we currently reside. We had tried for a long time and had disappointments in our objective of getting a child and our plan was to adopt out of the foster care system. We had decided at the very least we would be able to help one or two children out and maybe grow our family. While in Price, visiting and deciding if we wanted to make this our home I contracted the worst flu ever. I was sick for days, then weeks, then I realized it had been about a month. I threw up everyday, several times a day. I ate weird stuff like salt and vinegar chips with lemonade. Now you have to understand that as a general rule I am not an idiot but for a whole six months, due to medical tests and my own hopefulness of my own I had a pregnancy test every month right up until two months ago. Before I went to the Dr. I thought I would cover my basis. Two seconds after  peeing on that stick it said clearly " You are STUPID. How could you not know you're pregnant?!?!" I went out and said to my husband. " I'm pregnant." He said, " You probably read it wrong." Then he went to investigate. He came back and said " lets go get some more and take them." Three test later we were pretty sure it wasn't a fluke. As it turns out I was 2 months along. We had a few scares and spent a few weekends on bed rest and spent 8 months vomiting with such force and volume that it was alarming. I made some very silly assumptions such as " no first baby ever comes early." She was ten days early. The day I planned to get her room in order my water broke but I didn't have any contractions. So they induced me. 8 hours and 20 minutes later a very bruised creature with tufts of red hair entered my life. She wasn't all that pretty but she was full of personality from day one! Also hiccups and screams. She wouldn't have anything to do with anyone but me or her father. Two years later and she is still full of personality, she's improved a great deal in looks and as she often tells me, she is my pretty princess. She's also a lot more friendly...She'll tell you that too!

Baby brudder Blake

My husband and I still planned on adopting. We didn't want Hailey to be an only child, or have her only sibling be a large black dog that she constantly climbs all over. I had begun babysitting when Hailey was three months old so that she wouldn't be a lonely child. She wasn't. I babysat two boys about a year older than her and she loved them ( and loves them still). We went through all the paperwork and processes in order to become foster parents but for reason only God knows we were never able to get any kids. My husband really wanted our kids to be close, but not too close, in age so we started trying again. And once again gave up but kept up all the fun and as seems to often be the case that was when it happened. After Christmas shopping I was sooo tired. I'd been kind of grumpy for the last week or so and I had been feeling very well. My husband said, jokingly, " I bet you are pregnant." That was Saturday. Sunday morning... after thinking about it I thought, hey, I bet I am. Can't hurt to take the test ( I was all stocked up from "trying" months). So I took one. Hey, HEY! Baby number two is on the way.
Randy believed me this time. We only used the one test. This pregnancy took FOREVER!!!! My daughter was informed right away and thus the rest of the world. She talked about her brother for months. After I stopped babysitting (about week 35) she started standing next to my tummy shouting " come out, come out NOW!" In scant three weeks later I was completely of her sentiment. This baby boy didn't want to come out but my body wanted him out. These next few lines are pretty gory so if you are of a week constitution skip them. My hips hurt so badly I couldn't sit or lay down for more than an hour at a time. My all day sickness returned, with a vengeance. I became so ill about 4 days before he was born that there was splatter on the wall BEHIND me. I covered the bathroom... then of course I had to clean it up. That was a BAD day. However Hailey helped me out by sleeping though that. She got so that every time I coughed she'd ask if I was ok. The next day was my Dr. appointment and I was 5 cm. He said you'll be back tonight to deliver. I said “Do you want to bet? If I'm not when can you induce me?" At this point I had lost 3 lbs (jump starts that post baby weight loss) and had been bleeding for two days. Friday morning he said. I waited with great anticipation. I'd been having contractions for a week so Thursday I ignored them. I made bread, I cleaned my house, I mopped the floors, I made cookies. I was almost ready. That night my daughter got sick all over me at about 10:00. Not feeling very well I was moving pretty slow and my husband, being a factual guy and all about gathering information, decided it was time I laid down and timed those contractions. Every two minutes I had a contraction that lasted two minutes. We decided to go. We didn't wake Hailey up we just dropped her off at a friend’s and went to the hospital. My stubborn son decided he wasn't going to be forced out. He also decided I would suffer for trying that move. No drugs. Nothing! There was a lot of leg tapping and deep breathing, but no yelling, screaming, crying or cursing like in the movies. Just two hours after we arrived, before all the registration paper work was done, Blake Christian entered our lives. He was blue. He was wrapped in his cord, but thank God he was screaming bloody murder. Hailey loved him. She adores him. She wanted to hold him for hours. Jack was not as impressed but I hope with time Blake will grow on him as Hailey did. It's been five weeks and Hailey's adoration has not abated. As for me...well I always say that as far as babies go "Better out than in!"

Getting back into shape after baby...the art of working out just getting there

I have not yet formally introduced my two adorable children but we are going to talk about them anyway and I'll introduce them later. Just five weeks ago at 1:36 AM without any drugs and no sleep for two days my son was born. I was in a euphoric and happy place for about two weeks. Then I realized I have no clothes to wear. My maternity clothes made me look like a commercial for some kind of a weight loss drug and my regular clothes made me look... like nothing because I couldn't get them on. A kind and wonderful woman, whose teenage daughter was given clothes about eight sizes to large, mailed me some pants. This however had me chomping at the bit to get into shape, and improve my mood, through exercise. Graciously giving my body two more weeks to recover I began my campaign on Tuesday. On Tuesday I jogged 1.5 miles. I enjoyed it.. my right knee and calf did not. They said don't run anymore. Incidentally so did my Dr. when I called about something else. So what is a girl to do? I get up at with my son between 4:30 and 5:00 everday. That should give me time to exercise... Don't laugh moms. It really doessn't. I took up swimming. The pool opens at 5:30 for a lap swim. The first day I was there at 5:30 with two ladies in their late sixties. They each lapped me four times. I had left my husband asleep with the baby fussing in the living room so after only 8 discouraging laps I slogged out of the pool ( where I had been doing a fantastic impression of a drowning bird for the last 10 minutes) and hobbled out to the car. I was home by 5:45. The baby was still crying and had spit up all over himself. My husband has become a very sound sleeper.

My second attempt to swim never made it off the ground, or to the pool. Little man rose at 4:00 AM on the dot and protested the hour until 6:00. At this point my daughter will be up at any moment and for my little man's safety I need to be there. She would love him to death if I didn't keep a close eye on her. Yoga! I could do some basic yoga! That would make my calf and knee feel better. Did you know that some people are such over achievers that they can hurt themselves doing yoga?  You don't even have to do it very well ... just push that leg a little two hard and you and your two kids will hang out on your bed while you ice your leg and read Curious George 80 times. Defiantly trying to swim again.

Today was the day. By 5:45 my son was fed and reasonably happy in his swing. I would have made Superman proud with the speed in which I slipped into my suit and sped like a speeding bullet to my car. There my progress was hampered by the speed limit and the fact that I can't go anywhere without the cops following me. They really work hard at keeping me honest. I arrived at the pool at 5:47 ( We live very close). Eagerly I jumped into those icy waters. No longer eager I began to slice through the water like a true athlete.  Ok, that part isn't true. Once again I appeared to be a drowning flamingo. I swam a lap, adjusted my maternity suit ( it's kind of big everywhere but in one place and I don't have another suit) and realized that I only have ten minutes left. Ten blissful minutes all to myself. I splash giddily across the pool 9  more times relishing my freedom. The clock strikes six... I turn into an adult with responsibilities... bummer. I leap from the pool energized and ready to face the day! Actually and I kind slip up of the steps and begin thinking about the laundry and groceries and how I can multi task to get at least a few chores done. Once again I must do my super man impression and get home before my angel gets up and decides to get her brother out of his swing. I do a great superman changing impression except I'm sure super man never knocks his noggin off of the door to his changing room or slips on the water he's dripped everywhere. At least my drowning flamingo is pretty good. It seems to amuse the lifeguard anyway. I arrive home at 6:10 to find my son fighting his blanket and in a rage. It's now 6:40 and while I have written this great work and snuggled him I realize... I get more exercise trying to get exercise than I do actually working out!

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Starting this Blog over..

I'm a  terrible blogger. I have tried to blog on a number of subjects. I have tried blogging a projects. I find my projects to be boring to myself so why would I blog them for others to read. I do lots of projects all the time and I've only blogged two. Those blogs are basically pictures and boring how to details. So I decided to start over and only blog about the things that most interest me... and I spend the most time on. That would be my dear sweet husband and our two kids. Since I never told the story on here I shall now recycle a facebook note so you can all read about how our lovely, but eccentric, family began. I wrote this for a friend whose husband is also and engineer .
 
For Alyse : My Engineer ( the acquisition)

Noticing my Engineer:

I'm not really sure when I noticed my engineer was anything more than a pest. It had to have been at some point during that first year of our acquaintance, when he still belonged to Sarah. I think the first thing I noticed about Randy, other than the fact that he was a pest, was how he cared for Sarah. He was very sweet to Sarah even when being intolerable to everyone else. He was the kind of boyfriend one would want to have. Since we began our relationship I have discovered the reasons an engineer makes such a great significant other. However we our now entering the sappy portion of our story. Please take warning it can only get worse from here.

Randy and I became friends, really good friends, during our junior year. I believe this friendship developed because we sat next to each other in chemistry class. Randy torchered me for a year, and discovered me to be implacable. I could take it. What was more I was able to ignore him and I think that for him that was a direct challenge. He drove me nuts. I vacillated between enjoying the friendship and enjoying the idea of killing him. I began to notice good qualities in him. Senior year brought a change to our relationship and I discovered a great deal more about my engineer.

Senior Year (Equally sappy):

Senior year rolled around and was very similar to junior year except Randy and I became very good friends, the kind that talk about everything and try to think of people for each other to date. (at this point we were both single however he did date a couple of girls briefly during the period. Engineers are not meant to be alone. They do not function very well without a significant other. They must have someone to assist in their study, help them communicate with the rest of the world, and tell them that they need to get a haircut and wear clean clothes.) About March Randy began to act weirdly. He began to study me carefully . A girl knows she is in trouble when an engineer begins to study her. Shortly after that he began to rehearse the reasons we should not date. Being the agreeable sort I concurred.

Through a series of mishaps ( he accidentally asked a girl to the jr/sr banquet to had a boyfriend and consequently felt uncomfortable taking her and she going with him. Me not able to obtain the date I planned on for him, as she acquired a boyfriend.) we attended the banquet together. He spent the whole evening explaining to me that while he really liked me and all our friends thought we'd be a very nice couple it would never work out so we should just be friends. I quit agreed. We made very good friends. A scant two weeks later he was very eloquently requesting that I consent to date him. I told him I would have to think about it but I would let him know as soon as possible. However he still maintained that the relationship would never work. Three weeks into the dating he would begin to say things like " when we get married" and then hasten to state that it would never happen. He would go to college and we would break up. Quit frankly if I was not so accustomed to ignoring him when the occasion required I think I would have broken up with him then.

Randy went away to college to become a full fledged engineer and prove to me that our relationship would not last.