Off we go...

We are going on a vacation. A real life, honest to goodness, family summer vacation. We have rented a house along the Atlantic coast with several wonderful friends we knew during Mike's residency. We will visit the beach, enjoy the pool, cook yummy dinners for each other and laugh a lot. We all have kids, sans Mattie the single guy and Amelia's husband Dustin is deployed to the desert but thankfully she and little Nathan are still coming to partake in our fun. The girls are so excited to live at the beach and go on an airplane and "help" me pack their suitcases. Right now, their suitcases have zebra purses, leapsters, a plastic guitar and yellow nemo foam kick boards for the pool in them. I asked them if they thought we should pack some panties, clothes and pajamas and they said I could throw in one pair of Hello Kitty panties and their princess pajamas and that would be all thank you. Ummmm....I don't think so little darlings. Mom still has full executive authority over packing. Speaking of packing...I better get crackin!

Pictures from vacation and funny stories coming soon.

Why?

It seems like it's all my kids ask me. Why why why why why WHY? I answer the endless sea of questions from "why does a red ICEE make my teeth red?" to "will I die someday?" Sometimes the very trivial question of "why does Barbie have yellow hair" precedes or follows the very type of question that stops me in my tracks like "can I have a lemonade stand next summer and give all the money I make at it to kids that are sick and in the hospital or to kids that don't have mommies or daddies and why don't they have them and why do kids get sick anyways????" I make up the answers as I go. I find myself saying "just because" or "because God made it that way" a lot. The point that I am doing a very poor job at making is that I am sick of questions. I sometimes sit with Mike late at night and beg him to please not ask me anything or make me decide anything for 20 minutes. Questions are the bane of my existence.

So when I got several messages in my inbox these past few weeks from strangers who have somehow stumbled upon this silly little corner of the Internet, I thought how NEAT! A lot of these questions ask the same thing..."why did you start a blog?" or "what inspired you to start a blog". Well. Um. Let's see.

My sister in law Amber told me what a blog was. I didn't even know. So she said, go to blogspot and sign on and we can post pictures of the kids so you don't have to mail them to me. Good idea, I thought. And then I wrote a post. And I hit the button "publish post". And later that night I showed Mike. And he liked what I wrote. And then a few days later I wrote a little essay about something that happened in our lives. I forget what. And when I hit the button "publish post" I felt this little thrill of exhilaration. I thought, wow, I just wrote something and ANYONE could read it if they wanted. It was a rush even though I knew Amber was the only one that knew I had a blog. So then I added my blog address to my email signature. And I started to write about personal stuff that was embarrassing. Ha!!! I felt free and liberated. Here I was being honest about my thoughts or bad habits and anyone in the world could be reading this and I wouldn't know it. It was so freeing to my soul. I found that I still loved writing. When I was younger I wrote all the time. I took writing classes and was Editor of my HS newspaper. I had a regular column where I could write on any topic I wanted. An early version of this blog? Maybe. And I discovered I still LOVED the idea of strangers reading what I wrote. I love to write. Sometimes I think a post is really well written. I don't go back and edit. Most of the time I don't even read the post before I publish it. I just write in a free-style format where I just put my ideas from my brain to my fingers to the screen. Sometimes I will go back and read what I wrote weeks later and think...OH MY GOSH, I can't believe I admitted that! Or I will blush with embarrassment and poor sentence structure, dangling participles, poor spelling and the switching of tense. But I don't let these things bug me. It's MY blog after all and if I want to dangle my participles all over the place I can. I love it and the fact that even one stranger would send me an email telling me that they liked this little bloggy thing makes me happier than the squirrel with the mouth full of nuts that I saw today in my parents tree. (How's that for poor sentence structure)

So anyway, that is why I write. It's why this blog isn't private. It would be stupid for me to say "this is my journal" or I write this for my kids. In part, I do. In part, I write it for Mike and for myself. I write it to embarrass my Mom who thinks I over share waaaay too much info. But it would be a lie to say that I don't hope that somewhere someone will read my words. I think words and stories are so powerful. I write because I have found that writing is part of who I need to be. I love it.

Thanks Patrick Swayze

I just wanted to give a shout out to Patrick Swayze and say how glad I am that I grew up in the 80's and that he did what he did with his life. I know most girls my age will forever remember him as Johnny, the tough and scrappy dance instructor at Kellerman Summer Camp who took Baby out of the corner in Dirty Dancing. And let me tell you, I loved Dirty Dancing so much that I made every member in my family (Grandmothers and Dad included) go see it with me at seperate times just so I could see it over and over.

However, for me, and this is just me talking, Patrick Swayze will ALWAYS be Orry Maine, the lead character in the 80's miniseries North and South. Seriously people, I could watch this miniseries over and over. I have made Mike watch it many times and he secretly loves it every bit as much as I do. Orry Maine is one of the best characters ever written about or acted in film. Orry is from Charleston and from a wealthy, plantation owning family. He goes up North to West Point, where he meets his best friend for life, Charles Hazard from Pennsylvania. This is before the civil war and the Hazards and Maines become like family as Orry and Charles fight in the war with Mexico. However, the issues facing our country threaten to divide the families. Ultimately, the Civil War starts and Charles becomes a Colonel in the Union Army where as Orry becomes a General for the Confederacy. They eventually face each other on the field of battle and I won't tell you how it ends because hello? If you haven't seen this you NEED TO DO SO NOW. But Orry is everything a man should be and has served as the yard stick on which I judged all boys. It tremendously influenced my life and I will love it and Patrick Swayze as long as I live.

September the Eleventh

I just need to take a moment. Just a second to remind myself that I remember this day. I lived on Andrews AFB in Maryland outside of DC. Mike was driving on his way to a normal Tuesday of med school. My Mom woke me up to tell me to turn on the news. I watched as the towers came down 3 1/2 hours north of where I sat. I watched as the plane flew into the Pentagon. Wait a second. Mike used to work at the Pentagon! His old office is there. Our friends are still there! What side? What side did it fly into? Tell us what side!!!!!! There are only five sides, how hard can it be? The Pentagon was only 30 minutes from where I sat. Are more planes on the way? The hanger of Air Force One planes is only two minutes from where I sat. Could more planes be headed to Washington? MIKE! By now my neighbor Jody was at my house with her son and we were crying and glued to the television. I called Mike on his cell phone. "Where are you?" I said. "A plane hit the Pentagon Aim." He said woodenly. "I know, they aren't saying what side it hit on." I replied. "I turned my car around to head to The Pentagon when they said it. I just turned my car around." He said. "NO! Please don't go there!" I cried. "But what if people are hurt? What if I can help?" I thought super quickly..."Mike they are going to close down this base in no time flat. You aren't going to be able to get home. Come home right now and let's just be together. Please." I waited for his answer. "Okay, I'm on my way." sigh. Momentary relief. The phone rang minutes later to let me know our dear neighbor who had just had a baby lost her Mom who I had just met. Her Mom came to visit for the birth of my neighbor's baby and was on the plane that hit the Pentagon. CRAP, the world has gone crazy. Mike got home. We sat there all day with Jody and Tom and their baby. Sure enough the base didn't just close but we went to threat condition DELTA. This means an attack from a foreign or domestic enemy is imminent. How imminent? There was a tank a 1/2 mile from my front door. A tank. Later that night, I had to get out of the house because I was going crazy. I asked Mike to take a walk with me. We were in lock down on the base meaning we could not get on or off base. They had asked residents not to drive our cars and leave the roads open for official use. So we grabbed our ID cards and set out to walk over to the golf courses on Andrews. As we walked down the most beautiful serene golf cart path at sunset that you could ever imagine I heard a rustle in the bushes. I looked to my right. "Just keep walking Mam" was the reply that came out of the bushes. A soldier, in full forest camouflage with his face painted and night vision goggles attached motioned me on my way with his big machine gun. On the golf course. The President's Golf Course. What sort of world have we landed on? I just remember feeling confused and dazed and scared and grateful and out of my body for a long time. I don't know when I felt normal again. I don't know if I ever have.

It was 8 years ago. My husband is slated to go to Afghanistan again in May. We are still fighting the Taliban? Really? Still? Why? I still feel confused and scared and dazed but mostly I feel grateful. I've had two gloriously delicious babies who have turned into two funny and smart little girls. I still have my husband. Many do not. Although we have lost two Grandfathers, a Grandmother and a much beloved Aunt since then, our families are intact and whole. So yes, I am still grateful.

I just needed to take a second to remember. Thanks for indulging me Internet. I never remember that day. But it's important to try so I don't forget how precious this day that I've been given really is.

P.S My thoughts and prayers go out to my dear friends Jody and Tom who sat in our house that day and watched events unfold with us. We cried together and Jody and I held hands. Jody is alone with five kids in Germany right now. Tom is in Iraq.

The END of an era...

I cried when I drove away from preschool yesterday. The girls have been in school now since August 8th. There are six kids who are all together in the same class again this year. We loved our teacher and these five other Moms and I all agreed to keep our kids together since they got along so great and were all nice, non "poopy face" "stinky butt" saying kids. So yesterday the girls and I arrived our usual 10 minutes early. We meet the other Moms early so the kids can run around and play for 10 minutes before class starts and we can visit and chat. Katie's best friend since last year has been Kyler. A blond angel of a little boy with golden hair, blue eyes to die for and who is honestly the cutest child I have ever seen. Katie and Kyler run to each other when they see each other and hug like it's been a year since they last saw each other. Kyler had a little sister born in June and he told everyone he was naming her Katie. Jessica's best buddy was Alex last year but she decided that Alex has to sit in the Time Out chair too much because he doesn't follow the rules so now her best buddy is Ryan. Well.

Kyler was under the tree with Ryan and Joshua. Katie was talking to Hayley about her new shoes that had hearts on them that she just LOVED and "Mom can we please stop at the store and buy me some shoes like Hayley on the way home PLEASE?" All of a sudden Kyler yells "ROCCO (another kid) ROCCO! WE ARE OVER HERE!" Katie's head pops up and she cheerfully exclaims "KYLER, I DIDN'T SEE YOU!" and proceeds to run over to him and hug him. He stiff arms her and knocks her down on the ground! Then he says "We were calling for Rocco NOT A GIRL!" I felt like my heart was going to break in my chest. Katie, however, laughed, got up and called "HAYLEY, JESSICA, MEGAN...COME DO RING AROUND THE ROSIE WITH ME!" All of a sudden, a gaggle of little girls appears and makes a circle holding hands with Katie and sing ring around the rosie. Kyler started to leave his buddies and wanted to join in with the girls and just as Jessica went by him she said "AND YOU CAN'T PLAY! NO BOYS ALLOWED!"

So I was happy Katie wasn't upset and that she had girlfriends that supported her and played with her and she is obviously way more socially bullet proof than I am, I mean was. I was secretly THRILLED that Jessica stood up for her sister and told Kyler he couldn't play. But I am officially not happy that Jessica excluded anyone from joining their group. But mostly, I am SO SO SO SO SOOOOOOO sad that we have reached this next phase of growing up. More of the magic dust of childhood and being babies has been knocked away. Katie all of a sudden cares about shoes with hot pink hearts on them and they have entered the boys vs. girls stage of life. Just yesterday they were pulling themselves up on the couch to try and walk. I swear it was JUST YESTERDAY. I called Mike from the parking lot and sobbed into the phone "Mike, I think Katie and Kyler are officially over." And he was all "say what?" And I was all, "He just pushed her down and I think they are broken up." And he was all "okay Aim, I gotta go." He told me later that he is going to LOVE this phase of life where boys have cooties and Katie and Jessica hate boys. He's more worried about the next phase when boys take on a whole different dimension. I just miss my babies and I wish time could slow down.

Upon The Occasion of My 38th Year of Life

So yeah...my grieving time is over. I turned 38 on Monday and let me tell you, it's not super fun to turn 38. Whatever blech. Sigh. We took the Grammies and the Papa and the chicks out for a crab feast Monday night at Joe's Crab Shack. It's Katie and Jessica's favorite place for two reasons. The crab and the dancing. Anytime they aren't shoving butter covered crab in their faces and dripping butter down their paper "Let's Get Crackin' " bibs they are dancing their little selves crazy. They do all the dances with the staff of Joes. Katie's favorite is Car Wash. We all had the bucket o' crab and shared a treat with a candle. I wished for good health. It's all I wanted. I have not received it yet but here's to hoping.

Mike got me a new stereo for my dented and crappy minivan. I should not say my van is crappy. It is nice and it runs great and has barely any miles on it. But it is dented because I am bad at parking and it is still a VAN. Which automatically makes it crap. But now I have pimped out tunes so yay for the van. My parents got me all sorts of goodies from Williams Sonoma, one being the two volume set of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, by Julia Child. Yes this was the inspiration for Julie & Julia and yes I loved the movie except for the Julie parts and yes, I am now obsessed with Julia Child and am making my first attempt at one of her recipes tomorrow night. I have been reading volume one and it is an amazing book. It has like seven pages on artichokes alone, which by the by are my favorite vegetable in the universe. Tomorrow night I am making sauteed chicken in cream and onions over steamed lemon scented rice and browned mushrooms in butter and wine. YUM. I'll be posting on my recipe blog how things are going as I learn some mad French skills in the kitchen. Thanks to Mom and Dad for setting me on my way. If the scale moves an inch upward I will blame you guys.

I guess in general, I am glad to be 38. I am happy where I'm at. But I feel frustrated that I do not have the energy and that I've been feeling so sick. I don't feel I can make plans with people because I never know how I will feel. I feel like I cancel plans and that I let down the people I love. I hate it. But I am working with a good GI specialist and hopefully, we will figure this whole thing out and hopefully it's easy to correct. I try really hard not to focus on this aspect of my life on the blog because it just makes me want to slap me when I read about it and I assume others feel the same way. Thanks for the good wishes and email and love you have sent to me. I have the best friends and family and lurker readers that a girl could ever hope for. You guys rock.

I was not meant to be a Pioneer Woman

No offense to my secret best friend Pioneer Woman, but I discovered that I have in no way any desire to be a pioneer woman. My A/C at my house died yesterday. The earliest they'll have the parts and be able to fix it is MONDAY. Maybe up to 2 weeks. So I have all the lights off and all windows open and am naked in order to beat the heat. I don't think Pioneer Woman would give me a gold star as to how I am handling this recent crisis. All I want from my air conditioner is to press a button and get cool air wafting through it's vents. Pray for me. As Jack Nicholson said in a Few Good Men "I'm a fair woman but this --- heat is making me absolutely crazy." And we all know how that story ended. I think I'm going to go order Major Meeker to instruct Airman Jessica to give Airman Katie a Code Red. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Repetitive Chaos

My sister in law Amber posted this most beautiful poem on her blog the other day called Sweet Monotony all about the dance you do as a new Mom and how sacred and special that time is. I thought about how much my life has changed since those new days of Motherhood. So I wrote my own version, called Repetitive Chaos to celebrate what my life feels like now. Here is the great poem first, followed by my silly version.

Sweet Monotony
Feeding
Feeding Burping
Feeding Burping Changing
Feeding Burping Changing Cooing
Feeding Burping Changing Cooing Fussing
Feeding Burping Changing Cooing Fussing Rocking
Feeding Burping Changing Cooing Fussing Rocking
Feeding Burping Changing Cooing Fussing Cooing
Burping Changing Cooing Fussing Rocking Sleeping
Changing Cooing Fussing Rocking Sleeping Waking
Cooing Fussing Rocking Sleeping Waking
Fussing Rocking Sleeping Waking
Rocking Sleeping Waking
Sleeping Waking
Waking

Though the order may change,
The motions are the same.Regardless of time,
Regardless of day,
My life
And the life of my baby's
Is made up of the same movements over
and over and over again.
It is exhausting
For both of us.
I sometimes long for a change. . . does she?
But then I remember that Music is made using the same seven notes in variation.
And only twenty-six letters combine to create poems, and plays, and masterpieces.
I realize that monotony can create miracles.
So I will go through the motions with my baby
And we will dance
Through the pages of our own story.

And now for the Amy Meeker version...

Repetitive Chaos
Waking Threatening
Waking Threatening
Late - going to be very late.
Looking and looking. Shoe found.
Looking and looking. Backpack located.
Looking and looking. Teddy Bear wedged in the couch cushions.
Crying. Shouting. Bribery. Treachery.
Promises. Pleading. Speeding.
Cell phone dialing. Excusing lateness.
Lecturing. Lecturing.
Throwing snacks backward. Hoping to hit my target.
Spilling. Wrappers crinkling.
Screeching to a stop.
Unloading. Unloading. Unloading the world.
Drop off. Sigh of relief. Tears of joy.
Running running. Errands too many. Running. Sweating.
Speeding. Cell phone dialing. Back to pick up.
Praying. Praying. Prayers for nap time. Please God nap time.
Thawing, defrosting. Nuking and reheating.
Loud talking. Dinner consumed. Laughing. Spilling.
Wiping. Cleaning. Wiping and cleaning.
Bathing and playing. Splashing and sudsing.
Tangle spray and brushing. Crying and begging.
Lotion rubbing and pajama picking.
Scripture reading, story telling. Prayers praying.
Water. Last minute pee pee. More water.
"I heard a noise." "She's keeping me awake"
Threatening. Not sleeping. Bargaining and warning.
Finishing everything I didn't do during the day.

Though the order may change and the events vary, the motions of the Mom and Preschooler are the same. My life and the lives of my 4 year olds are made up of repetitive chaos that makes me curl into a ball and suck my thumb in the corner. But then I remember that I have less than two years to go until all day school and I vow to cherish these moments. That usually gets me through until 10:32 a.m. Then, it's all sheer luck, caffeine and prayer.