Timeline Continued

Started here

One to Two:

My parents finish building their house in Carlton Woods. The playroom is built over the garage and it has a little opening that over looks the kitchen. I'm standing on the mini-balcony and looking into the kitchen crying after my sister leaves me in the playroom. I do not enjoy being left alone.

Shortly after we move in, my dad is downstairs having just finished his shower. Mom has Julie and me in the bath (she was 5) and is in her robe. She doesn't know that Julie has been kind enough to share a peppermint with me before we got in the tub until I start choking. She reacts in her typical manner--yelling for my dad. She thinks, "we can't go to the hospital! No one is dressed." My dad eventually turns me upside down and shakes me until the peppermint comes out.

Later in the year, Julie pantomimes eating a leaf off a houseplant; I actually eat it and have some sort of allergic reaction resulting in a hospital visit. The act of her pantomiming and me actually carrying out the act became something of a theme in our lives.

Two to Three:

We move out of the Carlton Woods House into the Barbara Circle house. It's much smaller but backs up to a small lake. We continue to keep the house allergen free, but Mom has a horrible time in the mid-70's finding a babysitter for me. Everyone either has shag carpet or a pet. She finally goes in to resign and her principal insists on helping her find somebody to keep me instead. It's a continuing issue for the next several years.

In addition to the constant red, puffy eyes associated with allergies, my scalp refuses to grow hair. Julie could have been the model for the girl on the Sunbeam Bread product--beautiful blonde locks with gorgeous blue eyes. I am completely bald with red eyes and a red nose.

I also cry. A lot. When my parents can no longer stand it, they call my grandfather. He's a farmer and lives an hour away, and is one of the few people I will quit crying for. He takes me riding around the farm looking at cows until I fall asleep.

Three to Four:

Mom has finally worked out an arrangement that I seem to be satisfied with. I go to the church preschool 3 days a week and spend the mornings before and afternoons after with either Miss Jane or Miss Amanda. Both of these homes become second homes to me over the next two years--keeping me when I'm sick, when my parents are out of town and basically whenever else my mom needs them to.

One morning, I was wearing my new orange jumpsuit and fancy knee-high boots with a hidden zipper compartment and Bill took off running through the church without me. Never mind that I spend half my life at this church--in addition to school three days a week, my dad is the choir director--I totally freak out. The very nice janitor, James, escorts me to my classroom and I am forever grateful.

The days I'm not in school, I stay at with Miss Betty and her grandson, Bucky. Miss Betty never remembers to pull the tongue on my shoes out before she ties them. I'm too scared to tell her.

I could never really get very excited about this presidential election. Even though the Republican nominee's typically moderate platform appeals to me more than the far right wing of our party, he's never been my favorite. It may or may not be because his staffers used to act like total jerks when I worked in the Senate, but I try to think I was able to get over it. My apathy about our nominee has spared me from the bitter disappointment of loss today. I find our president-elect to be an incredibly charismatic individual and I'm not sure our country's collective psyche could have survived a Republican victory last night.

Just don't get me started on Biden.

BUT, my point here is that while everyone else in the country is celebrating or mourning today, I still feel like I'm in a holding pattern. My former boss may be in a runoff. Georgia requires a candidate to receive 50% + 1 vote in order to be victorious. With 96% of the precincts reporting, he's at 49.9%. So, while he may still be able to transcend that 50% requirement with the outstanding 4% of precincts, he can't afford to wait to find out. So, the campaign is still running right now. His poor staff is exhausted. He is exhausted. His family is exhausted. The electorate is exhausted and definitely not wanting to endure 4 more weeks of stupid ads. So, keep your fingers crossed that those 4% of precincts will get us that vital last .1% of the vote.

To all the Obama supporters: Congratulations.

Proud

Thirteen years ago, a small town lawyer from Hometown got elected to the United States Congress. I was lucky enough to intern for him his first summer on the Hill and go back 3 years later and become his scheduler. 6 years ago, he pulled off a stunning defeat and became a United States Senator. It still blows my mind a little.

He was in Georgia the first day of my internship back in 1995, but he came in on that second day and told me to come with him. While his wife had been my 5th grade teacher and I considered both his daughter and son friends and he lived just down the street, I didn't know him very well. He took the time we were walking over to the Capitol to be sure my living arrangements were acceptable and I had everything I needed. We saw Steve Largent (a congressman at the time) and when I swallowed my tongue in awe, he teased me mercilessly. When another Georgia congressman was wondering around near us, he made sure to grab both the congressman and a photographer so that I could have my picture taken with them both. He took me down on the floor with him and told me which button to push and where to look on the board to see that vote reflected.

Of course, he's a lot busier now with a much larger staff, but when he walked in the Silver Skillet tonight following a tough debate with both of his opponents, he first made sure his wife was standing by his side and he then profusely thanked his staff.

I still remember how I felt the night he won this seat. I still have a hard time believing that he pulled it off. I'm so proud of the work he's done and I sure do hope he gets to continue. Because I believe in his politics? Absolutely. But mainly because I believe in the man.

Timeline: Zero-One

1975: I am born in Hometown--a small, largely agricultural town in South Georgia to two teachers. I have a fearless, four year old sister who has hardly been sick a day in her life. My mom's parents live about an hour away and they still talk about loading my grandfather and his broken leg in the back of their big sedan to hurriedly make the drive. When they arrive, my dad tells them that he and Mom have decided on a name--Billie Belle after my grandmothers. Thankfully, he was teasing.

My entrance in to the world was foreshadowing for how I've lived my life. Because my sister was born in 45 minutes, my mom hurried to the hospital with me as well. I ended up deciding to turn around mid stream and we ended up with a long delivery. My mom's doc (who would later become my beloved pediatrician) ended up closing the office and everybody waited me out. When I got close enough, they pulled out the forceps and told me they would wait no more.

The nurses finally disclosed the particulars to the radio station so that my dad's high school students would quit calling. My dad chose my name while my mom was sleeping. 8 years later, we received his alumni newsletter and discovered that his ex-fiance has a daughter with the exact same name. My mom said we were heading to the courthouse.

By all accounts, I was a pain in the ass. Once my mom quit breast feeding, I became very sick. Allergy tests at 8 months revealed multiple allergens and resulted in twice weekly allergy shots for the first 5 years of my life. The only thing that comforted me was my mother. She fell asleep on the floor next to my crib every night holding my hand through the slats. A floor that was covered in linoleum after they had to rip the carpet up because of my allergies. I try to remember this when she is making me crazy today.