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Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Electricity Nazi
When I was a kid, I thought my dad was an electricity Nazi. He would go around the house, turning off all the lights, telling us that we were burning electricity, and don't we know how much it costs to keep the lights on?? Sometimes he would even turn a light off in a room that I was in.
When fall/winter would arrive my mom and I would be freezing but my dad wouldn't let us turn the heater on until at least November 1st, claiming that the heater was too expensive to run any earlier than that. I couldn't wait to be older and have a place of my own. I just knew that I would leave lights on as long as I wanted, and turn the heater on whenever I felt the slightest chill - because I could!
It's funny how life works. Even funnier when I had to start paying my own bills.
And WOW, electricity is not cheap, my friends. Turns out, I am a worse electricity Nazi than my dad was. If it's daytime, I try to avoid turning any lights on, if at all possible. The biggie though, the heater? That's a tough one. Last year I told myself I would adhere to my dad's old rule - no heat until November 1st. The last thing we needed was for a $550.00 bill to show up from the electric company just in time for Christmas...cause that's never happened, (I hate you, electric company!). So I was bent on being strict about the heat and just dressing the boys and me in lots of layers.
By mid-September I could feel the cracks in my armor appearing. At night, I would be so cold that my teeth would chatter as we lay in bed, even though I had on fleece pants, two pairs of socks and two sweatshirts. I was NOT going to turn that heater on though. Richard would sigh impatiently and tell me to just go turn it on.
"We have children, Kellyn. We can't let them freeze, this is ridiculous."
"They're....fine...(uncontrollable teeth chatter)...I put...three sets...of PJs...on them...(uncontrollable teeth chatter)."
Well, I lost. Apparently I have a very low tolerance for cold. Before October even arrived we had the heater running from 8am to 7pm. Mmmm that heat felt so GOOD though, I didn't care!
Until the electric bill arrived.
So this year I am going to try really hard to avoid turning the heater on. I am aiming for November 1st again, which I know will not be easy. The Universe is gearing up for the battle already. It's still August, and the weather is storming outside, and my fingers are itching to go switch the heater on...just a little...but I won't! I will be strong. I think.
Monday, August 30, 2010
My Web Log
I remember when blogging was still a novel idea; when some people still referred to it as "web-logging". This labor of love that you are reading right now is actually my third blog. My first one was on the blogspot network in 2002/2003, and then I moved to the Xanga site from 2003-2004.
Then I stopped blogging. I was caught up in finishing college, finding a job, spending every night out with my coworkers, Facebooking, finding a husband...you know, important stuff. I was too busy for a blog.
Then I found myself, six years later, with a college degree, a husband, two kids, and no job...at least not one that I get paid for in real money. Things have changed mightily for me in the last few years; all wonderful things. But I found myself having some time on my hands, with a need to express myself creatively. I attempted some artistic expression last year with my short venture in driftwood art. The majority of my creations were purchased by my mom though, so - while grateful for her love and support - I decided I should try another route.
Writing has always been my passion. I can't even explain the feeling I get when I write. It's so fulfilling, having the words flow from my fingertips. It's soothing for me. Every morning I wake up, and wonder what I will write about that day, but I have to wait for it. And at some point, sure enough, the words - a story, will come into my head. At that point, I have to commit it to "paper", (i.e. my blog), or I might lose it.
So I created this blog. I found I was in good company. LOTS of company. Apparently, since I was last a part of the blogosphere, everyone and their goat has started a blog.
I read many, they are thoughtful, touching and hilarious. There are many, many good blogs out there. There are also many bad ones. It is a bit frustrating, I feel like the bad blogs sort of lower the stock of blogs as a whole. You know, the guy who blogs about what his cat eats for dinner every night, while completely neglecting proper grammar, punctuation and spelling. It's because of that guy, that when I mention to some people that I have a blog, they kind of raise their eyebrows, going, "Ohhh, right. A blog", like it's the red-headed step-child of the writing world.
Sigh.
Not everyone feels this way though. In fact, blogging is growing as its own form of writing. There are even conferences held annually for bloggers. It is my dream to attend one. Some of my favorite blog writers have been speakers there, and I am sure there is much to gain from those conferences.
For me, blogging offers the opportunity to stay at home with my babies, while still getting to create and express my thoughts through writing. This blog allows me to vent when I need to - and it is a heck of a lot cheaper than therapy!
I also feel like maybe it eases the pain, just a little, every month when my parents go to write a check for my student loans. Sure, I don't have some well-paying corporate job, and maybe I've never written a best-selling novel, but I've got a blog, Mom and Dad! I am putting thoseexpensive valuable college skills to work!
The only thing though, is that a lot of the popular blogs, the ones that are actually making money for what they do, all seem to be networked already. They've got ads and they are golden. I can't help but wonder if I have joined the party too late? Not that I started this blog to make money - although I'm not going to turn someone down if they want to sponsor my site, (Gerber? Old Navy? Target? Call me!!) - I just hope that there is still room for my blog. Not that I think mine is amazing...although I do try to make it more entertaining than writing about what my cat eats for dinner.
Plus, my mom says she likes my blog, and she wouldn't lie.
Then I stopped blogging. I was caught up in finishing college, finding a job, spending every night out with my coworkers, Facebooking, finding a husband...you know, important stuff. I was too busy for a blog.
Then I found myself, six years later, with a college degree, a husband, two kids, and no job...at least not one that I get paid for in real money. Things have changed mightily for me in the last few years; all wonderful things. But I found myself having some time on my hands, with a need to express myself creatively. I attempted some artistic expression last year with my short venture in driftwood art. The majority of my creations were purchased by my mom though, so - while grateful for her love and support - I decided I should try another route.
Writing has always been my passion. I can't even explain the feeling I get when I write. It's so fulfilling, having the words flow from my fingertips. It's soothing for me. Every morning I wake up, and wonder what I will write about that day, but I have to wait for it. And at some point, sure enough, the words - a story, will come into my head. At that point, I have to commit it to "paper", (i.e. my blog), or I might lose it.
So I created this blog. I found I was in good company. LOTS of company. Apparently, since I was last a part of the blogosphere, everyone and their goat has started a blog.
I read many, they are thoughtful, touching and hilarious. There are many, many good blogs out there. There are also many bad ones. It is a bit frustrating, I feel like the bad blogs sort of lower the stock of blogs as a whole. You know, the guy who blogs about what his cat eats for dinner every night, while completely neglecting proper grammar, punctuation and spelling. It's because of that guy, that when I mention to some people that I have a blog, they kind of raise their eyebrows, going, "Ohhh, right. A blog", like it's the red-headed step-child of the writing world.
Sigh.
Not everyone feels this way though. In fact, blogging is growing as its own form of writing. There are even conferences held annually for bloggers. It is my dream to attend one. Some of my favorite blog writers have been speakers there, and I am sure there is much to gain from those conferences.
For me, blogging offers the opportunity to stay at home with my babies, while still getting to create and express my thoughts through writing. This blog allows me to vent when I need to - and it is a heck of a lot cheaper than therapy!
I also feel like maybe it eases the pain, just a little, every month when my parents go to write a check for my student loans. Sure, I don't have some well-paying corporate job, and maybe I've never written a best-selling novel, but I've got a blog, Mom and Dad! I am putting those
The only thing though, is that a lot of the popular blogs, the ones that are actually making money for what they do, all seem to be networked already. They've got ads and they are golden. I can't help but wonder if I have joined the party too late? Not that I started this blog to make money - although I'm not going to turn someone down if they want to sponsor my site, (Gerber? Old Navy? Target? Call me!!) - I just hope that there is still room for my blog. Not that I think mine is amazing...although I do try to make it more entertaining than writing about what my cat eats for dinner.
Plus, my mom says she likes my blog, and she wouldn't lie.
Lovey-Dovey Brain
One nice thing about deployment is that Richard and I get along GREAT. Like, perfect. This isn't to say that we don't get along when he is home, but, when he is on deployment we basically go six months without having any disagreements or squabbles, because really, there is nothing to argue about. We just miss each other so much, and after awhile, we kind of develop lovey-dovey brain, where everything the other person does is wonderful and awesome and oh! we just love each other sooo much! I know that I have been hit by the lovey-dovey bug when I start missing Richard's half-empty Coca-Cola cans and crumpled candy wrappers laying all around the house, (which is normally one of my biggest pet peeves).
Lovey-dovey brain isn't a bad thing though, it feels pretty good and helps get me through the sad times of deployment, so I just embrace it and enjoy the ride. One thing that lovey-dovey-brained-Kellyn really likes to do is reminisce. I often think back to the day that I met Richard. I can still clearly see in my mind the first time that I saw him, and it's so funny to me now, to think that I had no idea in that moment that that was the man who would become my husband, and change my whole life. I was working the table for the Everett Mall at a Naval Homecoming. I was busy setting fliers and coupons out when I looked up, and locked eyes with a sailor. His eyes were stunning. As he continued onto the next table, I turned to my boss, Julie, and said, "Oh my gosh, did you see that guy? His eyes were gorgeous!" In my head, I assumed that would be the last of him, but it wasn't. We got to talking on the pier while waiting for the ship to pull in, he asked for my number, then called me two hours later, and the rest is history.
Stories of how couples meet are so fun, I enjoy hearing about how two people got together. I love our story, and I can't wait to share it with our children when they are older, and then our grandchildren sometime in the distant future.
Today I would like to hear some of your stories though - even if you think I have heard it before. If you are interested, please share in the comments section how you met your spouse and what first impressions you had of the person who ultimately became your spouse. If both you and your spouse read this blog, I would like to hear from both of you; it would be interesting to hear two different sides of the same story.
Lovey-dovey brain isn't a bad thing though, it feels pretty good and helps get me through the sad times of deployment, so I just embrace it and enjoy the ride. One thing that lovey-dovey-brained-Kellyn really likes to do is reminisce. I often think back to the day that I met Richard. I can still clearly see in my mind the first time that I saw him, and it's so funny to me now, to think that I had no idea in that moment that that was the man who would become my husband, and change my whole life. I was working the table for the Everett Mall at a Naval Homecoming. I was busy setting fliers and coupons out when I looked up, and locked eyes with a sailor. His eyes were stunning. As he continued onto the next table, I turned to my boss, Julie, and said, "Oh my gosh, did you see that guy? His eyes were gorgeous!" In my head, I assumed that would be the last of him, but it wasn't. We got to talking on the pier while waiting for the ship to pull in, he asked for my number, then called me two hours later, and the rest is history.
Stories of how couples meet are so fun, I enjoy hearing about how two people got together. I love our story, and I can't wait to share it with our children when they are older, and then our grandchildren sometime in the distant future.
Today I would like to hear some of your stories though - even if you think I have heard it before. If you are interested, please share in the comments section how you met your spouse and what first impressions you had of the person who ultimately became your spouse. If both you and your spouse read this blog, I would like to hear from both of you; it would be interesting to hear two different sides of the same story.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Tough Times
Oh, sorry. I don't mean to talk while my mouth is full.
I was just eating my words.
A big heaping bowl of my words.
You see, I used to say that I thought a lot of the problems associated with the 'terrible twos' were related to how the parents approached this stage in a child's life. I assumed that if the parent was an overly dramatic individual and didn't understand the reasoning behind why toddlers act the way they do, then those parents would freak out over every little thing, when really, age two is such a fun time!
Oh, hold on, gotta eat some more of my words here.
Yeah, we've been struggling lately. We are in the thick of this two year tug of war, Jacob and me. Every night after I put the boys to bed I just collapse on the couch, completely spent after yet another day of Jacob hitting, and throwing, and crying, and screaming, and pushing, and whining, and tantrum-ing. It is exhausting. It seems as though we have really reached a high point in this past week.
It's frustrating for me, it's frustrating for him. I wish that Richard were here to help. Sure, he'd probably be about as clueless in this field as I am, but we could be clueless together. And then when I am feeling totally drained, I could at least say, "Tag, you're it!" then run and hide in the bathroom for half an hour and just breathe in some silence, while he dealt with the two year old alien that has decided to inhabit our home. I feel like calling some customer service number and complaining that my baby is defective - my once sweet, gentle infant has turned into an unpredictable time bomb. Sometimes I feel like I am walking through a field of mines, except in this scenario, the mines are tantrums. Sigh.
Today has been another difficult one. While I realize that with some better planning on my part we could have avoided some of our issues, I still feel absolutely depleted. Jacob had been crying for so long that he was gasping for air, Ryan had started whimpering, and so I decided there was nothing else to do but join in. And we all cried. Now my eyes itch and my head hurts and I could really use an adult beverage, but that will just have to wait a couple more months until I've got a backup parent on duty.
Just when I get to thinking that I am on my last nerve and I start wondering if there is a time limit on returning children, (I could have sworn I saved that receipt...), Jacob goes and does this:
Awwww my sweet, precious angel! That smile is heavenly, who couldn't love that little face? I don't know why people complain about this age, it is so much fun! The twos are terrific!
I was just eating my words.
A big heaping bowl of my words.
You see, I used to say that I thought a lot of the problems associated with the 'terrible twos' were related to how the parents approached this stage in a child's life. I assumed that if the parent was an overly dramatic individual and didn't understand the reasoning behind why toddlers act the way they do, then those parents would freak out over every little thing, when really, age two is such a fun time!
Oh, hold on, gotta eat some more of my words here.
Yeah, we've been struggling lately. We are in the thick of this two year tug of war, Jacob and me. Every night after I put the boys to bed I just collapse on the couch, completely spent after yet another day of Jacob hitting, and throwing, and crying, and screaming, and pushing, and whining, and tantrum-ing. It is exhausting. It seems as though we have really reached a high point in this past week.
It's frustrating for me, it's frustrating for him. I wish that Richard were here to help. Sure, he'd probably be about as clueless in this field as I am, but we could be clueless together. And then when I am feeling totally drained, I could at least say, "Tag, you're it!" then run and hide in the bathroom for half an hour and just breathe in some silence, while he dealt with the two year old alien that has decided to inhabit our home. I feel like calling some customer service number and complaining that my baby is defective - my once sweet, gentle infant has turned into an unpredictable time bomb. Sometimes I feel like I am walking through a field of mines, except in this scenario, the mines are tantrums. Sigh.
Today has been another difficult one. While I realize that with some better planning on my part we could have avoided some of our issues, I still feel absolutely depleted. Jacob had been crying for so long that he was gasping for air, Ryan had started whimpering, and so I decided there was nothing else to do but join in. And we all cried. Now my eyes itch and my head hurts and I could really use an adult beverage, but that will just have to wait a couple more months until I've got a backup parent on duty.
Just when I get to thinking that I am on my last nerve and I start wondering if there is a time limit on returning children, (I could have sworn I saved that receipt...), Jacob goes and does this:
Awwww my sweet, precious angel! That smile is heavenly, who couldn't love that little face? I don't know why people complain about this age, it is so much fun! The twos are terrific!
Friday, August 27, 2010
Flash Back Friday
Today I am introducing a brand-spankin'-new concept on my little blog here. Flash Back Fridays! It's like my own version of going to watch a black and white movie on a Friday night...except that instead, I will be posting vintage stuff on here every Friday. This may include old writings of mine - diary entries/school papers, old photos, or even some old videos if I can get my hands on them. I just thought it would be a new, fun thing to try! Hope you all enjoy it.
So, to start us off, here are some vintage diary entries of mine:
July 4th, 1999
Hi again...Tonight I spent with my parents and brother watching the firework shows all around Edmonds and such. It was pretty cool...I love spending time with my family. We always have such a great time, and we sure do laugh a lot. I think my family is just so great, I only pray that someday I will have my own family that is as great and loving as the family I have now...Sometimes I worry myself. I think about the future so much, and I'm afraid I am trying to grow up too fast, and someday I'll look back and wonder where all the years went, and why they are so blurry in my memory. Sometimes, every so often, I just get the most wonderful feeling, and I realize how precious and short and GREAT life is. I only wish I could always feel like that, cause I truly appreciate life more in those few minutes than in any other time...
July 23rd, 1999
I sometimes think I'm dyslexic. I mean, I can't tell you how many times I have switched letters in words. I don't know...Maybe I don't have a clue what I'm talking about, and I just mess up on words sometimes. I mean, that's normal, right? Oh well! Right now Backstreet Boys is on the radio with their song "I Want it that Way". I tell you, as long as I live, I will NEVER understand what that song is talking about....Oh, you know what? Today I drank a teaspoon of Habanero sauce. EWWW!! Sick! It burned my mouth for probably 15 minutes after, even though I drank a ton of milk and even some ice cream. I HATE IT! I put it in my mouth and it started to burn and I just started running around the house SCREAMING while my "loving" family laughed hysterically.
August 27th, 1999
Hey!! So school starts in a little over a week. I personally can't wait! Oh, on a good note: I passed driver's ed! I'm sleeping in the family room tonight cause I was just laying in bed and I swear I saw a spider crawling toward me. Tim is out here watching TV, and he says I am being crazy, but I know what I saw!...Guess what? Tim left the front door WIDE open for like over an hour and now I'm like freaked that there is a psychopath in our house. Lalala...So, like is great. I'm serious. Lately I've been feeling SO wonderful. I've never felt this terrific!! Everything is just great!
-Kellyn
Sadly, these were among the most entertaining of my entries. As you can tell, I had some seriously exciting things going on in my life. Oh, and in that last entry, I can't tell if I was on something or suffering from undiagnosed ADHD. Holy smokes.
Anyways, this was just a taste of what I've got in mind for this segment. Hopefully Flash Back Fridays will get more exciting as we go along!
So, to start us off, here are some vintage diary entries of mine:
July 4th, 1999
Hi again...Tonight I spent with my parents and brother watching the firework shows all around Edmonds and such. It was pretty cool...I love spending time with my family. We always have such a great time, and we sure do laugh a lot. I think my family is just so great, I only pray that someday I will have my own family that is as great and loving as the family I have now...Sometimes I worry myself. I think about the future so much, and I'm afraid I am trying to grow up too fast, and someday I'll look back and wonder where all the years went, and why they are so blurry in my memory. Sometimes, every so often, I just get the most wonderful feeling, and I realize how precious and short and GREAT life is. I only wish I could always feel like that, cause I truly appreciate life more in those few minutes than in any other time...
July 23rd, 1999
I sometimes think I'm dyslexic. I mean, I can't tell you how many times I have switched letters in words. I don't know...Maybe I don't have a clue what I'm talking about, and I just mess up on words sometimes. I mean, that's normal, right? Oh well! Right now Backstreet Boys is on the radio with their song "I Want it that Way". I tell you, as long as I live, I will NEVER understand what that song is talking about....Oh, you know what? Today I drank a teaspoon of Habanero sauce. EWWW!! Sick! It burned my mouth for probably 15 minutes after, even though I drank a ton of milk and even some ice cream. I HATE IT! I put it in my mouth and it started to burn and I just started running around the house SCREAMING while my "loving" family laughed hysterically.
August 27th, 1999
Hey!! So school starts in a little over a week. I personally can't wait! Oh, on a good note: I passed driver's ed! I'm sleeping in the family room tonight cause I was just laying in bed and I swear I saw a spider crawling toward me. Tim is out here watching TV, and he says I am being crazy, but I know what I saw!...Guess what? Tim left the front door WIDE open for like over an hour and now I'm like freaked that there is a psychopath in our house. Lalala...So, like is great. I'm serious. Lately I've been feeling SO wonderful. I've never felt this terrific!! Everything is just great!
-Kellyn
Sadly, these were among the most entertaining of my entries. As you can tell, I had some seriously exciting things going on in my life. Oh, and in that last entry, I can't tell if I was on something or suffering from undiagnosed ADHD. Holy smokes.
Anyways, this was just a taste of what I've got in mind for this segment. Hopefully Flash Back Fridays will get more exciting as we go along!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
From Franklin to Family
Well, I have made it home. Now that I am back, safe and sound, and none of my planes crashed I am so happy that I went to the Killer Nashville conference. I had the most amazing time! I learned so much in those three days, took nearly 20 pages of notes and got invaluable advice.
The last time I blogged about the trip was Friday night, when I couldn't sleep. I don't think I actually ended up going to bed until 1:30am, and I tossed and turned all night. When my alarm went off at 7am Saturday morning I could barely open my eyes. I considered skipping the first class of the day to sneak in a couple more hours of sleep, but in the end, I didn't want to risk missing important information.
I dragged myself out of bed, got dressed and headed into the elevator. A few floors down, a woman got on with me, and we struck up a conversation. Her name was Deborah Shlian, and she has published five or six novels. She was incredibly nice, and we ended up getting coffee together and talking for about half an hour. She was so friendly and gave me some tips on getting published. I ended up buying one of her books and she signed it for me. I couldn't believe my luck, and was so thankful that I hadn't decided to sleep in! You never know what you might miss out on.
To Kellyn: Future writer. Wonderful to meet you!
Deborah Shlian
Saturday turned out to be a very exciting day. This was the day that the Guest Speaker, Jeffrey Deaver, spoke. He is the author of over 22 novels, two of which have been made into films. I had seen one of them, "The Bone Collector", a few years ago. It stars Angelina Jolie and Denzel Washington. That movie forever changed the way I think of taxis, and if you have seen the movie, then you know what I am referring to. He was a really humorous speaker, and it was so interesting to listen to him talk about the way he develops and writes his novels. Afterward, I purchased two of his books, got to have him sign both of them, and I even got my picture with him! (I was silently trying to soak up some of his literary talent!)
He was such a nice, accomodating guy, he signed books for everyone who asked, even staying much later than his handler wanted him to. He never seemed impatient or too good. That was actually one thing that pleasantly surprised me. There were many authors at the conference, and they were all so kind and open to talking to anyone who was looking for advice. For some reason, I assumed the published authors wouldn't want to mingle with aspiring authors like myself, but there were no egos to be found.
That evening, I got the chance to explore the town of Franklin, Tennessee. I met a girl, Rachel, who actually grew up in the Seattle area, but moved to Franklin with her mom two years ago. She was so sweet, and we had many things in common. She was kind enough to drive me downtown Saturday night. I got to take pictures of the cute, historic buildings that line the road. My pictures simply cannot do the town justice. It was absolutely adorable. I also got to shop at What's In Store, a small boutique where a lot of Nashville stars - Carrie Underwood, Taylor Swift, Jessica Simpson, etc. - shop. That was the only shop I got to go in though, because apparently things close quite early in the south...like as early as 5pm...on a Saturday!
So after walking up and down the street, we had dinner at a pizza restaurant, and then got to tour some more. The next stop was to the two town cemeteries, which are right across the street from one another. Unfortunately I didn't have my good camera with me, and since it was already dark out, my pictures are not the best, but you can imagine how creepy it was. We were standing on a pitch black street in front of these centuries-old cemeteries, while a thunder and lightning storm was going on. It was almost like reading a mystery novel, I couldn't write this stuff! It was creepy, but very cool at the same time.
After the cemeteries we drove out to the Carnton Plantation, which was the site of one of the biggest battles in the Civil War, where in the span of four hours one evening, over 1,700 Confederate soldiers lost their lives. The home was turned into a make-shift hospital. Apparently blood stains can still be seen on the floors of the bedrooms, where the injured and dead were laid. The owners of the Carnton Plantation, at the time, allotted part of their property to be used for a cemetery. It is the largest private military cemetery in the country. I took some pictures of it, but unfortunately because of the lighting, none of them turned out. It was another eerie experience. I love history, and being in a place where so many lost their lives, there are no words.
Sunday was our last day of classes. By 2pm, the conference was over. I spent the afternoon and evening relaxing at the hotel, enjoying my final few hours of not having to change diapers or make meals. While the conference was a blast, those four days away from my boys were about as much as I could handle.
The only blip in my trip happened Sunday night as I was packing my bags. I got a call from my mom that my dad was at the hospital, and most likely was going to have his appendix taken out. I felt bad that I couldn't be there for them, and that my mom couldn't immediately go be with my dad, since she was babysitting the boys. Thankfully her friend Laurie was able to come sit with them after they went to bed, and my mom got to be at my dad's side. I was in constant contact with my mom, as well as my in-laws, who were so sweet and wanted to check on the status of my dad's condition. Turns out it wasn't his appendix, but actually diverticulitis. He has been taking antibiotics and getting great medical treatment, and is on the road to recovery. The best news is that he got to go home last night!
It has been comforting for me to get home, be with my boys, and know that my dad is getting better. While writing is my passion, and something I hope to continue with and improve at, this trip showed me that family truly is the most important thing in my life, and I am blessed to not only have a wonderful husband and two great sons, but also an awesome extended family of Millers and MacQuarries. I am one lucky girl.
The last time I blogged about the trip was Friday night, when I couldn't sleep. I don't think I actually ended up going to bed until 1:30am, and I tossed and turned all night. When my alarm went off at 7am Saturday morning I could barely open my eyes. I considered skipping the first class of the day to sneak in a couple more hours of sleep, but in the end, I didn't want to risk missing important information.
I dragged myself out of bed, got dressed and headed into the elevator. A few floors down, a woman got on with me, and we struck up a conversation. Her name was Deborah Shlian, and she has published five or six novels. She was incredibly nice, and we ended up getting coffee together and talking for about half an hour. She was so friendly and gave me some tips on getting published. I ended up buying one of her books and she signed it for me. I couldn't believe my luck, and was so thankful that I hadn't decided to sleep in! You never know what you might miss out on.
To Kellyn: Future writer. Wonderful to meet you!Deborah Shlian
He was such a nice, accomodating guy, he signed books for everyone who asked, even staying much later than his handler wanted him to. He never seemed impatient or too good. That was actually one thing that pleasantly surprised me. There were many authors at the conference, and they were all so kind and open to talking to anyone who was looking for advice. For some reason, I assumed the published authors wouldn't want to mingle with aspiring authors like myself, but there were no egos to be found.
That evening, I got the chance to explore the town of Franklin, Tennessee. I met a girl, Rachel, who actually grew up in the Seattle area, but moved to Franklin with her mom two years ago. She was so sweet, and we had many things in common. She was kind enough to drive me downtown Saturday night. I got to take pictures of the cute, historic buildings that line the road. My pictures simply cannot do the town justice. It was absolutely adorable. I also got to shop at What's In Store, a small boutique where a lot of Nashville stars - Carrie Underwood, Taylor Swift, Jessica Simpson, etc. - shop. That was the only shop I got to go in though, because apparently things close quite early in the south...like as early as 5pm...on a Saturday!
So after walking up and down the street, we had dinner at a pizza restaurant, and then got to tour some more. The next stop was to the two town cemeteries, which are right across the street from one another. Unfortunately I didn't have my good camera with me, and since it was already dark out, my pictures are not the best, but you can imagine how creepy it was. We were standing on a pitch black street in front of these centuries-old cemeteries, while a thunder and lightning storm was going on. It was almost like reading a mystery novel, I couldn't write this stuff! It was creepy, but very cool at the same time.
After the cemeteries we drove out to the Carnton Plantation, which was the site of one of the biggest battles in the Civil War, where in the span of four hours one evening, over 1,700 Confederate soldiers lost their lives. The home was turned into a make-shift hospital. Apparently blood stains can still be seen on the floors of the bedrooms, where the injured and dead were laid. The owners of the Carnton Plantation, at the time, allotted part of their property to be used for a cemetery. It is the largest private military cemetery in the country. I took some pictures of it, but unfortunately because of the lighting, none of them turned out. It was another eerie experience. I love history, and being in a place where so many lost their lives, there are no words.
Sunday was our last day of classes. By 2pm, the conference was over. I spent the afternoon and evening relaxing at the hotel, enjoying my final few hours of not having to change diapers or make meals. While the conference was a blast, those four days away from my boys were about as much as I could handle.
The only blip in my trip happened Sunday night as I was packing my bags. I got a call from my mom that my dad was at the hospital, and most likely was going to have his appendix taken out. I felt bad that I couldn't be there for them, and that my mom couldn't immediately go be with my dad, since she was babysitting the boys. Thankfully her friend Laurie was able to come sit with them after they went to bed, and my mom got to be at my dad's side. I was in constant contact with my mom, as well as my in-laws, who were so sweet and wanted to check on the status of my dad's condition. Turns out it wasn't his appendix, but actually diverticulitis. He has been taking antibiotics and getting great medical treatment, and is on the road to recovery. The best news is that he got to go home last night!
It has been comforting for me to get home, be with my boys, and know that my dad is getting better. While writing is my passion, and something I hope to continue with and improve at, this trip showed me that family truly is the most important thing in my life, and I am blessed to not only have a wonderful husband and two great sons, but also an awesome extended family of Millers and MacQuarries. I am one lucky girl.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Wonder
I have this thing about hot air balloons. I love them, always have.
When I was little, younger than two years old, we lived in Redmond, Wa., and hot air balloons used to fly over our house all the time in the evening. I don't remember this at all, of course, but my mom says that anytime one would fly over, I would hear it - the hot air being blown into the balloon, and I would stand up in my crib and start yelling "Hot air 'boon! Hot air 'boon!" (Or something along those lines).
Sometimes they would get me out of bed and the four of us, my mom, dad, brother Tim, and me would all sit out on the front porch and watch them fly overhead. Their huge, brilliant colors floating through the sky were hypnotizing to me, and still are.
I went to college in Billings, Mt., and once every year there would be a festival where dozens of hot air balloons would fly over the town. I could sit and watch them for hours, it was beautiful. It filled me with wonder.
I have never been in a hot air balloon, and strangely enough, I don't really have a desire. I think that would take some of the fun out of it. The joy, for me, is in watching these giant, colorful balloons set against the horizon. It's fun, and brings me back to my childhood when I see them now.
My last evening in Tennessee, I wanted to have a final look outside my 11th floor window; I wanted to take in the scenery one last time, since I knew it would be dark when I left the next morning. I pulled back the curtains, and saw this:
And is that cloud not totally awesome??
I apologize for the poor quality. I didn't have my good camera with me, and I was shooting through a window, but you get the idea. I was pretty stoked when I saw the view, it was a nice ending to a wonderful weekend.
When I was little, younger than two years old, we lived in Redmond, Wa., and hot air balloons used to fly over our house all the time in the evening. I don't remember this at all, of course, but my mom says that anytime one would fly over, I would hear it - the hot air being blown into the balloon, and I would stand up in my crib and start yelling "Hot air 'boon! Hot air 'boon!" (Or something along those lines).
Sometimes they would get me out of bed and the four of us, my mom, dad, brother Tim, and me would all sit out on the front porch and watch them fly overhead. Their huge, brilliant colors floating through the sky were hypnotizing to me, and still are.
I went to college in Billings, Mt., and once every year there would be a festival where dozens of hot air balloons would fly over the town. I could sit and watch them for hours, it was beautiful. It filled me with wonder.
I have never been in a hot air balloon, and strangely enough, I don't really have a desire. I think that would take some of the fun out of it. The joy, for me, is in watching these giant, colorful balloons set against the horizon. It's fun, and brings me back to my childhood when I see them now.
My last evening in Tennessee, I wanted to have a final look outside my 11th floor window; I wanted to take in the scenery one last time, since I knew it would be dark when I left the next morning. I pulled back the curtains, and saw this:
And is that cloud not totally awesome??I apologize for the poor quality. I didn't have my good camera with me, and I was shooting through a window, but you get the idea. I was pretty stoked when I saw the view, it was a nice ending to a wonderful weekend.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Eat. Pray. Murder.
Hey, ya'll! I have arrived in Tennessee, and am officially done with Day One of classes. Things are going great, I have to say. The only thing bringing me down, (aside from having serious separation anxiety from my babies), is the fact that my body clock is all out of whack. Ohhh, how I long for the days of youth when jet lag did not affect me. Sigh.
However, while my body screams for blessed sleep, my brain will not comply, so I decided to give you all a quick update on my adventures out here.
EAT
My trip got off to a pleasant start. Big thanks to my Dad's work for flying him out to Virginia pretty much every week this summer! Because of those trips, he racked up quite a few miles on Continental that he didn't think he would get around to using - and he was kind of enough to give them to me! And, even better, he had enough to book me in a First Class seat! Yes. A. MAZ. ING. The only thing I could think about though, was how nice it would be to have First Class seats when traveling with my children - oh, the leg room! And the arm room! So much space! I hardly knew what to do with myself. So I celebrated with a complimentary margarita, obviously.
We landed in Houston for a short layover. It was approximately dinner time, so I headed to the food court to find something to eat. As I mentioned a few days ago, I have a fear of airplane bathrooms. I avoid them at all costs. Seriously. Whenever I travel I usually arrive at my destination positively dehydrated, because I won't drink an ounce of a beverage out of fear that I will need to use the lavatory. So I go to the food court, planning on finding something that will fill me up, but won't be too rich, in order to avoid any unwanted tummy/bathroom issues on my next flight, (you all know what I'm talking about here). These were my food options:
Donuts
Ice Cream
BBQ Sandwiches
Something huge and greasy that looked like a pulled pork sandwich
McDonald's
I must be in the south!
Thankfully, one of the restaurants had a plain green salad with a plain chicken breast. While not exciting, I did not have to contend with any unpleasant bodily issues on the following flight, which was good because...
PRAY
I did not have First Class on the second flight, because there was no First Class section. I was on one of the smallest planes I have ever ridden on. As soon as I stepped onto the plane, I felt my heart start racing. Small enclosed space...recirculated air...nighttime flying...thunderstorms in the forecast for this evening...It was all too much! As soon as I got strapped into my seat I just started praying. And praying. And praying some more. And when, just seconds after take-off, we made a sharp right turn, and the plane was shaking, and I just knew we were going to plummet to the ground, I prayed some more. Thankfully, I was so exhausted from the day at that point, that I pretty much passed out for the remainder of the flight.
MURDER
The Killer Nashville Murder Mystery Writer's Conference started today. I can't believe it's only been one day, I feel like I have learned so much already. I took classes on how to write engaging and purposeful dialogue, how to pace a novel, and how to become a best-selling author. Since it is a murder mystery conference though, I sprinkled in some 'for-fun' classes, such as how cop TV shows are terribly inaccurate, as well as a fascinating class about a cold-case murder that remains unsolved.
Throughout the day, I had the pleasure of making new friends, talking with people who, like me, hope to be published one day, as well as talking with a few who already have been published - and had some great advice to offer.
I know that I will come home from this conference feeling inspired, in fact, I have already begun working on a new novel idea, and even have another one floating around in my head. I am so glad that I ended up coming out here, it has all been worth it.
However, while my body screams for blessed sleep, my brain will not comply, so I decided to give you all a quick update on my adventures out here.
EAT
My trip got off to a pleasant start. Big thanks to my Dad's work for flying him out to Virginia pretty much every week this summer! Because of those trips, he racked up quite a few miles on Continental that he didn't think he would get around to using - and he was kind of enough to give them to me! And, even better, he had enough to book me in a First Class seat! Yes. A. MAZ. ING. The only thing I could think about though, was how nice it would be to have First Class seats when traveling with my children - oh, the leg room! And the arm room! So much space! I hardly knew what to do with myself. So I celebrated with a complimentary margarita, obviously.
We landed in Houston for a short layover. It was approximately dinner time, so I headed to the food court to find something to eat. As I mentioned a few days ago, I have a fear of airplane bathrooms. I avoid them at all costs. Seriously. Whenever I travel I usually arrive at my destination positively dehydrated, because I won't drink an ounce of a beverage out of fear that I will need to use the lavatory. So I go to the food court, planning on finding something that will fill me up, but won't be too rich, in order to avoid any unwanted tummy/bathroom issues on my next flight, (you all know what I'm talking about here). These were my food options:
Donuts
Ice Cream
BBQ Sandwiches
Something huge and greasy that looked like a pulled pork sandwich
McDonald's
I must be in the south!
Thankfully, one of the restaurants had a plain green salad with a plain chicken breast. While not exciting, I did not have to contend with any unpleasant bodily issues on the following flight, which was good because...
PRAY
I did not have First Class on the second flight, because there was no First Class section. I was on one of the smallest planes I have ever ridden on. As soon as I stepped onto the plane, I felt my heart start racing. Small enclosed space...recirculated air...nighttime flying...thunderstorms in the forecast for this evening...It was all too much! As soon as I got strapped into my seat I just started praying. And praying. And praying some more. And when, just seconds after take-off, we made a sharp right turn, and the plane was shaking, and I just knew we were going to plummet to the ground, I prayed some more. Thankfully, I was so exhausted from the day at that point, that I pretty much passed out for the remainder of the flight.
MURDER
The Killer Nashville Murder Mystery Writer's Conference started today. I can't believe it's only been one day, I feel like I have learned so much already. I took classes on how to write engaging and purposeful dialogue, how to pace a novel, and how to become a best-selling author. Since it is a murder mystery conference though, I sprinkled in some 'for-fun' classes, such as how cop TV shows are terribly inaccurate, as well as a fascinating class about a cold-case murder that remains unsolved.
Throughout the day, I had the pleasure of making new friends, talking with people who, like me, hope to be published one day, as well as talking with a few who already have been published - and had some great advice to offer.
I know that I will come home from this conference feeling inspired, in fact, I have already begun working on a new novel idea, and even have another one floating around in my head. I am so glad that I ended up coming out here, it has all been worth it.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Yum
It's weird how memories can suddenly pop into your head, seemingly out of nowhere.
I remember being on bed rest with Ryan, and having to go in to be checked out by my doctor, to make sure that labor had slowed down, and that hopefully Ryan would keep cooking for a few more days, if not weeks. Richard wouldn't be home for a couple more days, so my mom was going to drive Jacob and me to Everett for the appointment.
When you're pregnant, you get weighed every time you go to the doctor's office. I know, how cruel, right? Like it's not bad enough that you gain thirty pounds, but they want to remind you every time you're there. They lure you in with fun things, like ultrasounds and getting to hear the baby's heartbeat - Ah! But not so fast, my dear. First, you must step upon the evil scale, whose number gets bigger with each visit.
Because of this, I have my obstetrician visits down to a science. I always book them first thing in the morning, I wear the lightest outfit possible, which is usually a light summer dress (this outfit is seriously inconvenient in the winter months), and I don't eat or drink anything until the appointment is over. As you can imagine, by the time I get out of the doctor's office I am pretty much famished. In fact, the further I get into my pregnancies, the worse it is. Near the end, I have to start bringing a granola bar or some small snack that I can shove down my mouth just as soon as the weigh-in is over...and I do my best to ignore the strange looks I get from the nurse.
Anyways, so my mom was taking me to this doctor's appointment. As we were walking out the door I decided to grab a muffin from my freezer. Yes, I keep muffins in my freezer, they last longer that way. These were actually a unique kind of muffin, individually wrapped in clear plastic, and they are called "Vita Tops", because they are just the top part of a muffin and therefore, kind of flat. So I didn't really look, I just grabbed the muffin top that appeared to be the banana bread flavor.
I tried to schedule my doctor's visit early, but it ended up being like a 10am appointment, and since I had been awake since 7:30, I was pretty hungry by the time I finished. I raced out to the hallway, and as I waited for the elevator to arrive, I pulled out the muffin, tore open the plastic wrapper and took an enormous bite.
Hm.
Something...about this muffin...seems....off.
I pulled my hand back for a closer look. Turns out, in my haste, I hadn't grabbed the banana bread Vita Top. Instead, I had grabbed an individually wrapped frozen breaded chicken patty! YUM!
Or not. And while it had somewhat thawed, it was still pretty frozen in the middle. Oh, and it tasted nothing like a banana bread muffin. Oh, and it was absolutely disgusting.
Banana Nut Vita Top
Average frozen, breaded chicken patty.
I was horrified! I spit out the bite I had taken and threw the rest in the garbage can. Sure, there were some people sitting nearby giving me raised eyebrows, but pregnancy allows you the wonderful excuse of deciding that any food, on a moment's notice, can make you want to vomit until you dry-heave.
In hindsight, maybe I should have embraced the silver lining in this situation, and gone back to have the nurse re-weigh me after my little muffin mix-up.
I remember being on bed rest with Ryan, and having to go in to be checked out by my doctor, to make sure that labor had slowed down, and that hopefully Ryan would keep cooking for a few more days, if not weeks. Richard wouldn't be home for a couple more days, so my mom was going to drive Jacob and me to Everett for the appointment.
When you're pregnant, you get weighed every time you go to the doctor's office. I know, how cruel, right? Like it's not bad enough that you gain thirty pounds, but they want to remind you every time you're there. They lure you in with fun things, like ultrasounds and getting to hear the baby's heartbeat - Ah! But not so fast, my dear. First, you must step upon the evil scale, whose number gets bigger with each visit.
Because of this, I have my obstetrician visits down to a science. I always book them first thing in the morning, I wear the lightest outfit possible, which is usually a light summer dress (this outfit is seriously inconvenient in the winter months), and I don't eat or drink anything until the appointment is over. As you can imagine, by the time I get out of the doctor's office I am pretty much famished. In fact, the further I get into my pregnancies, the worse it is. Near the end, I have to start bringing a granola bar or some small snack that I can shove down my mouth just as soon as the weigh-in is over...and I do my best to ignore the strange looks I get from the nurse.
Anyways, so my mom was taking me to this doctor's appointment. As we were walking out the door I decided to grab a muffin from my freezer. Yes, I keep muffins in my freezer, they last longer that way. These were actually a unique kind of muffin, individually wrapped in clear plastic, and they are called "Vita Tops", because they are just the top part of a muffin and therefore, kind of flat. So I didn't really look, I just grabbed the muffin top that appeared to be the banana bread flavor.
I tried to schedule my doctor's visit early, but it ended up being like a 10am appointment, and since I had been awake since 7:30, I was pretty hungry by the time I finished. I raced out to the hallway, and as I waited for the elevator to arrive, I pulled out the muffin, tore open the plastic wrapper and took an enormous bite.
Hm.
Something...about this muffin...seems....off.
I pulled my hand back for a closer look. Turns out, in my haste, I hadn't grabbed the banana bread Vita Top. Instead, I had grabbed an individually wrapped frozen breaded chicken patty! YUM!
Or not. And while it had somewhat thawed, it was still pretty frozen in the middle. Oh, and it tasted nothing like a banana bread muffin. Oh, and it was absolutely disgusting.
Banana Nut Vita Top
Average frozen, breaded chicken patty.I was horrified! I spit out the bite I had taken and threw the rest in the garbage can. Sure, there were some people sitting nearby giving me raised eyebrows, but pregnancy allows you the wonderful excuse of deciding that any food, on a moment's notice, can make you want to vomit until you dry-heave.
In hindsight, maybe I should have embraced the silver lining in this situation, and gone back to have the nurse re-weigh me after my little muffin mix-up.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
The Little Things
I've mentioned before, that even as a stay-at-home mom, sometimes the days can blur, and the time can slip by all too quickly. It feels like only yesterday was early spring, and here we are, about to head into fall. They boys seem to change on a daily basis, and I have been trying to keep track of the new, cute things they've been doing. While this is a blog about life and family, I also want to be able to look back at it as a reminder of what it was like to have toddlers in the house. I take pictures. LOTS of pictures. Maybe even too many pictures, sometimes. And while pictures show how stinking cute these kids are, it doesn't tell the whole story of what they do on a day-to-day basis, and, well pictures don't show...the little things.
Jacob
Ah, Jacob. I look at him and I am filled with pride at my oldest son, yet simultaneously struck with the desire to cry. He is so big, a little boy, really. His baby fat is disappearing, and he can communicate with me through words so well. I struggle to understand how it is possible that the next birthday he celebrates will be his third. That just sounds too old; to me, he is still my baby - and I will probably always feel that way.
At the same time, it is so exciting to watch him learn and grow and change. Every day he seems to learn a new word, and not only that, but he also grasps the meaning and proper usage of words, which is really fun. This past weekend he learned the word "darn", and that you say it when something doesn't go your way. On Sunday, Jacob kept trying to open the front door, and I was holding my hand against it. I told him the door was "broken", and that we couldn't go outside that day. Jacob's response: "Darn!" After our incidents last month with him playing in the cars and inevitably burning up the car battery a couple times, I now keep the car doors locked. Every time he walks by the cars he tries to open the doors, and when he can't, he yells, "Darn!" It sounds so cute coming from his tiny little voice.
Jacob is super polite. He knows to add the word "please" whenever he wants something. For example, he will say "up please", if he wants to be picked up, or taken somewhere. Then the other night I fed him his favorite pasta and butter dish. After he had finished all the pieces on his plate, he looked at me and said, "More please!" And he also knows how to ask for milk, which kind of sounds like "nook", but, I know what he means. So when he is thirsty ("dirsty"), he will say "Nook, please!" It warms my heart hearing him talk, but even more so when he uses such nice words.
Don't get the wrong idea, though. Jacob is still very much a two-year-old, who is prone to tantrums. When he gets upset, his face scrunches up, and he will start slapping his hand against his thigh; it's almost funny. You can't help but empathize with him, it must be awful feeling all that frustration and not yet knowing how to express it. I am working with him on talking when he gets upset though, so I will say "Use your words, Jacob. Tell me what's wrong." The other day, Ryan was running around with an empty Gerber Cheeto container, and Jacob saw it, and started crying, so I told him to use his words, and through his tears and sad little voice he cried, "Cheee-(takes a breath)-tos!" I really wish I had video of it, because, even though it's sad to watch your child be upset, it is soooo cute hearing him talk when he is in that state.
Jacob has also decided that he is on strike from wearing diapers. If I don't put clothes on him as soon as he gets his diaper changed, then within five minutes he will have that diaper ripped off! If this meant that he wanted to get potty trained then I would be his biggest supporter, except that Jacob Hates! The! Potty! He won't go near it, it's like he thinks he is going to get flushed down the toilet...much like the fear I have of airplane toilets. So, I totally get it. But in the meantime, he is wasting diapers, which are not cheap. And since he is not potty trained, I have to follow him around to make sure he doesn't pee all over the house. Sigh. Something's gotta give.
All in all though, Jacob remains absolutely adorable. Every morning when I am carrying him and Ryan to the table for breakfast, I ask him if he can give Ryan a kiss, and he always leans over and kisses his little brother on the forehead. Talk about cute! And Jacob's love of music continues to grow. I know I am his mom, so I may be a little biased here, but he has got a seriously good singing voice for a two-year-old. He is on pitch, and knows the right notes for the songs. If ever he is in a bad mood, I can usually get him to cheer up by asking him to sing me a song. I won't be at all surprised if music is a big part of his future.
Ryan
Ryan! (yes, he gets an exclamation point because he is one busy little kid), is all boy. "Classic boy", as my Dad pointed out. He loooves cars, and trucks, and basically anything that has wheels and GOES. He likes to push them along the floor, blowing raspberries with his lips, imitating car sounds. Adorable. His other hobbies include getting as dirty as he possibly can, whether it is by rolling in the dirt in the yard, or rolling in the sand at the beach (and eating some of it). He is also usually a big ole mess after mealtime too. He's just busy and active and always running around, trying to keep up with his big brother. Yesterday, he jumped up and started running as fast as he could, yet he wasn't looking ahead of him, and he ran right into a wall. Saddest, and kind of funniest thing ever. He was totally okay! And then last night, right as I was about to put the boys to bed, the poor thing pulled one of our kitchen chairs onto himself. It scared me half to death - thankfully he is A-Okay, but he has a HUGE goose-egg on his forehead. Just one of many I am sure he will get throughout his childhood.
Not to be outdone by Jacob, Ryan is working on talking too. Although, I'm not sure if most people would understand a lot of the things he says, but as his Mommy, I have come to know how to translate on his behalf. A new word he learned last week was "Apple", which sounds like "Bapo", he can also say "milk" and "truck", which, incidentally sound the same: "Gak", so you just have to figure out in which context he is applying the word.
Ryan loves, loves, loves dogs. I am sure that as soon as he is able to ask for a dog, that is all he will say. We have gotten to keep my parent's dog, Millie, overnight a couple times this week. Whenever he sees her, Ryan gets so excited and yells "MeeMee!" (Millie). He chases her around, trying to grab ahold of her tail, and a couple times he has found her while she has been laying on the floor, and he crawls onto her back and tries to ride her like she is a pony. Poor "MeeMee", she is a good sport.
Ryan's got some funny quirks, too. Ever since he was an infant, he has always liked to have blankets completely covering him, including his head. I remember putting him to bed at night and placing the blanket all the way over him, and if he woke up in the night, it was usually because some part of him was showing, and he couldn't get the blanket back over himself. Now that he is bigger and gets himself to sleep, I always laugh when I go to check on him at night and he has burrowed himself under the blankets. It doesn't even matter how warm it is in the house; this week temperatures have soared into the 90's, and still, he burrows himself. Also, he likes to have a toy in each hand. If we go on a walk, I usually pick apples for the boys to eat along the way, but Ryan requires two, or else you WILL be hearing about it for the remaining mile and a half of the walk.
So these are just some recent observations on my boys. I know I will enjoy looking back on these stories as they grow, and it will also be nice for Richard when he gets home, as he is not able to read this blog out at sea, so he will be able to catch up on all the little things.
Jacob
Ah, Jacob. I look at him and I am filled with pride at my oldest son, yet simultaneously struck with the desire to cry. He is so big, a little boy, really. His baby fat is disappearing, and he can communicate with me through words so well. I struggle to understand how it is possible that the next birthday he celebrates will be his third. That just sounds too old; to me, he is still my baby - and I will probably always feel that way.
At the same time, it is so exciting to watch him learn and grow and change. Every day he seems to learn a new word, and not only that, but he also grasps the meaning and proper usage of words, which is really fun. This past weekend he learned the word "darn", and that you say it when something doesn't go your way. On Sunday, Jacob kept trying to open the front door, and I was holding my hand against it. I told him the door was "broken", and that we couldn't go outside that day. Jacob's response: "Darn!" After our incidents last month with him playing in the cars and inevitably burning up the car battery a couple times, I now keep the car doors locked. Every time he walks by the cars he tries to open the doors, and when he can't, he yells, "Darn!" It sounds so cute coming from his tiny little voice.
Jacob is super polite. He knows to add the word "please" whenever he wants something. For example, he will say "up please", if he wants to be picked up, or taken somewhere. Then the other night I fed him his favorite pasta and butter dish. After he had finished all the pieces on his plate, he looked at me and said, "More please!" And he also knows how to ask for milk, which kind of sounds like "nook", but, I know what he means. So when he is thirsty ("dirsty"), he will say "Nook, please!" It warms my heart hearing him talk, but even more so when he uses such nice words.
Don't get the wrong idea, though. Jacob is still very much a two-year-old, who is prone to tantrums. When he gets upset, his face scrunches up, and he will start slapping his hand against his thigh; it's almost funny. You can't help but empathize with him, it must be awful feeling all that frustration and not yet knowing how to express it. I am working with him on talking when he gets upset though, so I will say "Use your words, Jacob. Tell me what's wrong." The other day, Ryan was running around with an empty Gerber Cheeto container, and Jacob saw it, and started crying, so I told him to use his words, and through his tears and sad little voice he cried, "Cheee-(takes a breath)-tos!" I really wish I had video of it, because, even though it's sad to watch your child be upset, it is soooo cute hearing him talk when he is in that state.
Jacob has also decided that he is on strike from wearing diapers. If I don't put clothes on him as soon as he gets his diaper changed, then within five minutes he will have that diaper ripped off! If this meant that he wanted to get potty trained then I would be his biggest supporter, except that Jacob Hates! The! Potty! He won't go near it, it's like he thinks he is going to get flushed down the toilet...much like the fear I have of airplane toilets. So, I totally get it. But in the meantime, he is wasting diapers, which are not cheap. And since he is not potty trained, I have to follow him around to make sure he doesn't pee all over the house. Sigh. Something's gotta give.
All in all though, Jacob remains absolutely adorable. Every morning when I am carrying him and Ryan to the table for breakfast, I ask him if he can give Ryan a kiss, and he always leans over and kisses his little brother on the forehead. Talk about cute! And Jacob's love of music continues to grow. I know I am his mom, so I may be a little biased here, but he has got a seriously good singing voice for a two-year-old. He is on pitch, and knows the right notes for the songs. If ever he is in a bad mood, I can usually get him to cheer up by asking him to sing me a song. I won't be at all surprised if music is a big part of his future.
Ryan
Ryan! (yes, he gets an exclamation point because he is one busy little kid), is all boy. "Classic boy", as my Dad pointed out. He loooves cars, and trucks, and basically anything that has wheels and GOES. He likes to push them along the floor, blowing raspberries with his lips, imitating car sounds. Adorable. His other hobbies include getting as dirty as he possibly can, whether it is by rolling in the dirt in the yard, or rolling in the sand at the beach (and eating some of it). He is also usually a big ole mess after mealtime too. He's just busy and active and always running around, trying to keep up with his big brother. Yesterday, he jumped up and started running as fast as he could, yet he wasn't looking ahead of him, and he ran right into a wall. Saddest, and kind of funniest thing ever. He was totally okay! And then last night, right as I was about to put the boys to bed, the poor thing pulled one of our kitchen chairs onto himself. It scared me half to death - thankfully he is A-Okay, but he has a HUGE goose-egg on his forehead. Just one of many I am sure he will get throughout his childhood.
Not to be outdone by Jacob, Ryan is working on talking too. Although, I'm not sure if most people would understand a lot of the things he says, but as his Mommy, I have come to know how to translate on his behalf. A new word he learned last week was "Apple", which sounds like "Bapo", he can also say "milk" and "truck", which, incidentally sound the same: "Gak", so you just have to figure out in which context he is applying the word.
Ryan loves, loves, loves dogs. I am sure that as soon as he is able to ask for a dog, that is all he will say. We have gotten to keep my parent's dog, Millie, overnight a couple times this week. Whenever he sees her, Ryan gets so excited and yells "MeeMee!" (Millie). He chases her around, trying to grab ahold of her tail, and a couple times he has found her while she has been laying on the floor, and he crawls onto her back and tries to ride her like she is a pony. Poor "MeeMee", she is a good sport.
Ryan's got some funny quirks, too. Ever since he was an infant, he has always liked to have blankets completely covering him, including his head. I remember putting him to bed at night and placing the blanket all the way over him, and if he woke up in the night, it was usually because some part of him was showing, and he couldn't get the blanket back over himself. Now that he is bigger and gets himself to sleep, I always laugh when I go to check on him at night and he has burrowed himself under the blankets. It doesn't even matter how warm it is in the house; this week temperatures have soared into the 90's, and still, he burrows himself. Also, he likes to have a toy in each hand. If we go on a walk, I usually pick apples for the boys to eat along the way, but Ryan requires two, or else you WILL be hearing about it for the remaining mile and a half of the walk.
So these are just some recent observations on my boys. I know I will enjoy looking back on these stories as they grow, and it will also be nice for Richard when he gets home, as he is not able to read this blog out at sea, so he will be able to catch up on all the little things.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Flying
I never used to be afraid of flying. I loved to travel, and I had a list of all the cities in the U.S. that I wanted to visit. I got an Alaska Airlines credit card about four years ago, so that I could rack up miles and then take short weekend trips to places I wanted to see. That was the plan, anyway.
And then I had kids.
Nowadays, my fear of flying only seems to get worse. Prior to having children, I always felt that, should my plane go down, then it must just be my time to go. I have so much more to lose now, though. And the thing that really bothers me, is not so much the fact that I will be dead, (although I do fear not being able to watch my children grow up), but the thought that my children won't have any tangible memories of me. While I'm sure family members would try to keep me alive for them in a sense, I would never be more real than people they read about in books; and I fear that they would never know how much I love them, if I am not here to tell them myself. These are the terrifying thoughts that cross my mind the entire time I am on a flight.
Luckily for me, the majority of the time that I do fly someplace now, I have my children with me. Traveling with children is a pretty big production, and attempting to keep them occupied and prevent them from going into total meltdown-toddler-drama-rama while in-flight is a great distraction for me. I am usually so busy trying to stay one step ahead of their short attention spans, that I don't have a chance to think about that fact that I am floating 39,000 feet above the earth's surface. The few times I have flown without them though, have been when I am going to visit Richard, and once I am with him, the trip seems worth it, even though I am white-knuckled for the whole flight.
In one week I am leaving for Nashville to attend a writer's conference. I am so excited for the opportunity to meet published writers, network with agents and editors, and learn more about writing and getting published. This is sure to be a positive experience for me. Add to that the fact that I have always wanted to visit Nashville, so I am very much looking forward to going into the city and seeing the sights.
As far as my flights are concerned though, I. Am. Terrified.
I am so afraid that as my fear builds over the next week, that by the time I board the plane, I will become that crazy chick who cries the whole way to Nashville, and all the strangers on my flight will be Facebooking and Tweeting about the emotional wreck they had to sit next to.
I was telling my mom about my new-found fear of flying, and she said the same thing happened to her once she had kids, but she went on to say that you just have to live your life and do the things that you love, despite any fears you may have. Since she's got almost thirty years more experience at this than I do, I asked her, hopefully, if it ever gets better.
Her response? No.
Awesome.
But I keep telling myself that writing is my passion, and aside from being with my husband and kids, it is the one thing that I love, have always loved, and want to pursue in this life. So, if there were ever a reason for me to get on a plane and face my fear, this is it. Sigh.
Does anyone have suggestions on how to get through a flight without weeping uncontrollably, or reaching for the air-sickness bag and/or multiple vodka sodas?
And then I had kids.
Nowadays, my fear of flying only seems to get worse. Prior to having children, I always felt that, should my plane go down, then it must just be my time to go. I have so much more to lose now, though. And the thing that really bothers me, is not so much the fact that I will be dead, (although I do fear not being able to watch my children grow up), but the thought that my children won't have any tangible memories of me. While I'm sure family members would try to keep me alive for them in a sense, I would never be more real than people they read about in books; and I fear that they would never know how much I love them, if I am not here to tell them myself. These are the terrifying thoughts that cross my mind the entire time I am on a flight.
Luckily for me, the majority of the time that I do fly someplace now, I have my children with me. Traveling with children is a pretty big production, and attempting to keep them occupied and prevent them from going into total meltdown-toddler-drama-rama while in-flight is a great distraction for me. I am usually so busy trying to stay one step ahead of their short attention spans, that I don't have a chance to think about that fact that I am floating 39,000 feet above the earth's surface. The few times I have flown without them though, have been when I am going to visit Richard, and once I am with him, the trip seems worth it, even though I am white-knuckled for the whole flight.
In one week I am leaving for Nashville to attend a writer's conference. I am so excited for the opportunity to meet published writers, network with agents and editors, and learn more about writing and getting published. This is sure to be a positive experience for me. Add to that the fact that I have always wanted to visit Nashville, so I am very much looking forward to going into the city and seeing the sights.
As far as my flights are concerned though, I. Am. Terrified.
I am so afraid that as my fear builds over the next week, that by the time I board the plane, I will become that crazy chick who cries the whole way to Nashville, and all the strangers on my flight will be Facebooking and Tweeting about the emotional wreck they had to sit next to.
I was telling my mom about my new-found fear of flying, and she said the same thing happened to her once she had kids, but she went on to say that you just have to live your life and do the things that you love, despite any fears you may have. Since she's got almost thirty years more experience at this than I do, I asked her, hopefully, if it ever gets better.
Her response? No.
Awesome.
But I keep telling myself that writing is my passion, and aside from being with my husband and kids, it is the one thing that I love, have always loved, and want to pursue in this life. So, if there were ever a reason for me to get on a plane and face my fear, this is it. Sigh.
Does anyone have suggestions on how to get through a flight without weeping uncontrollably, or reaching for the air-sickness bag and/or multiple vodka sodas?
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
My Husband Says the Funniest Things at the Most Inappropriate Times
My husband, Richard, is a funny guy. Oftentimes, we will be having a conversation with someone, and they will ask him a question and he will look at me with a confused expression, because at some point a few topics back, he completely zoned out. Or other times, in the middle of a conversation, he will interject with something completely off topic. He has ADHD, so I usually blame it on that. I admit, this used to get on my nerves a bit, but over the years I have become accustomed to it, and I try to watch for signs of him zoning out, so that I can pull him back into the conversation. Or if he throws something way out of left field, I will try to tie it into the original conversation. Other times though, his antics, while funny in hindsight, can be totally inappropriate at the time.
When I was in labor with Jacob, my amniotic fluid was leaking pretty much non-stop all evening, from the time I got checked into the hospital. Labor is an uncomfortable, undignified situation to be in. It's not fun for anyone, least of all the mom who is in labor. Even though I was 9-months pregnant and huge, squeezed into a hospital gown (that could not possibly be intended to fit a pregnant woman), and trying to work my way through early contractions, I still had to go to the bathroom, oh, every 10 minutes or so, you know, because I had an eight-pound baby pushing on my bladder. So a few times an hour I would have to push myself up off the hospital bed, and waddle to the bathroom. OH! And don't forget that I was receiving antibiotics through a vein in my hand, so I had to shuffle to the bathroom, one hand holding onto the antibiotic cart, my other hand holding my gown closed in the back.
Well, with all of this back-and-forth stuff, some of that amniotic fluid inevitably ended up on the floor. Not a lot, but some. So at one point, Richard came over to check the contractions that were being monitored on the computer next to my bed. He was standing right next to me, talking pleasantly, when all of the sudden he looked down. He stepped aside neatly at first, as though he just stepped in a puddle. Then you see him make the connection. His face contorted in disgust and he jumped, "Oh my God! Did I just step in...your...stuff??"
Nice. Like I'm some sort of freak. But he was only getting started!
So a few hours and one epidural later, it was time to push. With Jacob I had to push for an hour. I know that compared to a lot of people, I was pretty lucky, but for me, that hour felt like an eternity. About halfway through, sweat dripping down my face, my dignity LONG gone, and my entire body aching with pain, Richard felt it was necessary to inform everyone that his "stomach really hurt".
Now, please take note: should you ever end up in the same room with me while I am in labor, you will not find the usual quiet, reserved Kellyn. No, 'Hellyn' has no filter. (That's not a typo, it's a combination of my name and Hell, because when I am in labor I basically take on a voice like something straight of The Exorcist). 'Hellyn' says whatever she wants and never apologizes. That being said, here is how I responded to my husband's pain: "YOU'RE stomach hurts?? My whole freaking body hurts! Remember? Having a baby here! I don't want to hear it!"
Yeah, even I'm scared of 'Hellyn'.
You would think that that would have been enough to shut him up for a while, but no. Only about a half hour later, Jacob was thisclose to making his entrance into the world, the nurses had just gone to get the Doctor. (For the record, I just want to say that nurses ROCK! They do all the hard, dirty work, and then the doctor shows up for the last 30 seconds of the show).
Don't get the wrong idea though, we weren't all just relaxing, waiting on the Doctor to appear. I was completely exhausted and on edge, and in the worst pain of my LIFE. Jacob was, to put it nicely, kind of halfway in the world...and halfway not. I was praying that the Doctor was only seconds away, and that was the moment that Richard decided to say, "Hang on a minute - I have to use the bathroom!"
"WHAT!!?" I screamed, "You are not going to the bathroom! I am about to have this baby and I am not waiting any longer than I have to!"
I don't think he used the bathroom for, like, two whole days after that.
Well, 'Hellyn' made a reappearance only 10 months and 10 days later. When I was in labor with Ryan, I had a regular Labor and Delivery nurse, as well as one who was in training. She seemed very timid and quiet, but nice. The first 10 and a half hours progressed uneventfully. Then when it came time to push, my regular nurse took hold of my right leg, and the nurse-in-training went to hold my left leg at the exact moment Richard went to hold it.
Timid nurse: "Oh, oh, it's okay - you take her leg."
Richard: "No, it's fine, you can take it."
Timid Nurse: "No really, you can have it."
Richard: "I don't mind, you can hold it - "
'Hellyn': "Oh my GOD! Someone just take my leg already!"
Richard ended up holding it, and I just hope I didn't scare that poor girl away from the nursing field forever.
Of course, looking back now, these stories make me laugh. When I'm missing Richard the most, one of my favorite things to do is remember fun times we have had together. Though I wouldn't have been so quick to admit it at the time, I am grateful for the funny moments that he added into our sons' birth stories; they wouldn't be the same without them.
And I am super grateful that my husband continues to love me, even though he has witnessed the evil that is 'Hellyn'!
When I was in labor with Jacob, my amniotic fluid was leaking pretty much non-stop all evening, from the time I got checked into the hospital. Labor is an uncomfortable, undignified situation to be in. It's not fun for anyone, least of all the mom who is in labor. Even though I was 9-months pregnant and huge, squeezed into a hospital gown (that could not possibly be intended to fit a pregnant woman), and trying to work my way through early contractions, I still had to go to the bathroom, oh, every 10 minutes or so, you know, because I had an eight-pound baby pushing on my bladder. So a few times an hour I would have to push myself up off the hospital bed, and waddle to the bathroom. OH! And don't forget that I was receiving antibiotics through a vein in my hand, so I had to shuffle to the bathroom, one hand holding onto the antibiotic cart, my other hand holding my gown closed in the back.
Well, with all of this back-and-forth stuff, some of that amniotic fluid inevitably ended up on the floor. Not a lot, but some. So at one point, Richard came over to check the contractions that were being monitored on the computer next to my bed. He was standing right next to me, talking pleasantly, when all of the sudden he looked down. He stepped aside neatly at first, as though he just stepped in a puddle. Then you see him make the connection. His face contorted in disgust and he jumped, "Oh my God! Did I just step in...your...stuff??"
Nice. Like I'm some sort of freak. But he was only getting started!
So a few hours and one epidural later, it was time to push. With Jacob I had to push for an hour. I know that compared to a lot of people, I was pretty lucky, but for me, that hour felt like an eternity. About halfway through, sweat dripping down my face, my dignity LONG gone, and my entire body aching with pain, Richard felt it was necessary to inform everyone that his "stomach really hurt".
Now, please take note: should you ever end up in the same room with me while I am in labor, you will not find the usual quiet, reserved Kellyn. No, 'Hellyn' has no filter. (That's not a typo, it's a combination of my name and Hell, because when I am in labor I basically take on a voice like something straight of The Exorcist). 'Hellyn' says whatever she wants and never apologizes. That being said, here is how I responded to my husband's pain: "YOU'RE stomach hurts?? My whole freaking body hurts! Remember? Having a baby here! I don't want to hear it!"
Yeah, even I'm scared of 'Hellyn'.
You would think that that would have been enough to shut him up for a while, but no. Only about a half hour later, Jacob was thisclose to making his entrance into the world, the nurses had just gone to get the Doctor. (For the record, I just want to say that nurses ROCK! They do all the hard, dirty work, and then the doctor shows up for the last 30 seconds of the show).
Don't get the wrong idea though, we weren't all just relaxing, waiting on the Doctor to appear. I was completely exhausted and on edge, and in the worst pain of my LIFE. Jacob was, to put it nicely, kind of halfway in the world...and halfway not. I was praying that the Doctor was only seconds away, and that was the moment that Richard decided to say, "Hang on a minute - I have to use the bathroom!"
"WHAT!!?" I screamed, "You are not going to the bathroom! I am about to have this baby and I am not waiting any longer than I have to!"
I don't think he used the bathroom for, like, two whole days after that.
Well, 'Hellyn' made a reappearance only 10 months and 10 days later. When I was in labor with Ryan, I had a regular Labor and Delivery nurse, as well as one who was in training. She seemed very timid and quiet, but nice. The first 10 and a half hours progressed uneventfully. Then when it came time to push, my regular nurse took hold of my right leg, and the nurse-in-training went to hold my left leg at the exact moment Richard went to hold it.
Timid nurse: "Oh, oh, it's okay - you take her leg."
Richard: "No, it's fine, you can take it."
Timid Nurse: "No really, you can have it."
Richard: "I don't mind, you can hold it - "
'Hellyn': "Oh my GOD! Someone just take my leg already!"
Richard ended up holding it, and I just hope I didn't scare that poor girl away from the nursing field forever.
Of course, looking back now, these stories make me laugh. When I'm missing Richard the most, one of my favorite things to do is remember fun times we have had together. Though I wouldn't have been so quick to admit it at the time, I am grateful for the funny moments that he added into our sons' birth stories; they wouldn't be the same without them.
And I am super grateful that my husband continues to love me, even though he has witnessed the evil that is 'Hellyn'!
Monday, August 9, 2010
Games
My favorite time of the day is right after the boys have finished breakfast, and I set them free to play. They are both so good at playing by themselves, and I love to fix my morning coffee and just sit and watch them as they move from one toy to another. They are so imaginative already, and are even talented at making up their own games.
Here are two videos: one of Jacob playing a game he made up all on his own. He found an inflatable pool toy, counts to three, then rolls it across the floor. He thought it was fascinating! The second video is of Ryan playing one of his favorite new games, where he grabs hold of Jacob, then holds on for as long as he can. He thinks it is hilarious! Jacob isn't too fond of that one, but it is pretty cute to watch.
Here are two videos: one of Jacob playing a game he made up all on his own. He found an inflatable pool toy, counts to three, then rolls it across the floor. He thought it was fascinating! The second video is of Ryan playing one of his favorite new games, where he grabs hold of Jacob, then holds on for as long as he can. He thinks it is hilarious! Jacob isn't too fond of that one, but it is pretty cute to watch.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Plagues Upon Us
The other day I was driving home from Seattle and I called my mom to check on how the boys were doing.
Mom: Oh, they're good, but...I think you might have a problem..."
Thoughts flash through my mind - A problem? The boys are sick? They aren't getting along? One or both of them is showing signs of being socially-awkward, or sociopathic - or some other negative socio-word??
Me: Uhm, what's the problem?
Mom: Well, in the last hour, I have killed probably 15 to 20 flies in your house.
Ohmigod. Bugs?! This is so much worse than anything I had thought of.
Me: You mean, like, fruit flies? (Please, please, please let it be just fruit flies!)
Mom: No, like regular house flies. The big ones.
Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Ohmigod!
Me: Ohmigod! Gross! What do we do?? We need to bomb my house. This is so disgusting!
My mom calmed me down, and said she had researched fly infestations. She had taken all of the precautions suggested on how to remove the sources of the flies. That sounded great, but I mean, it's not like we live amongst solid waste, people. I may not be the most organized person, but I do try to keep my house freaking sanitary! Unfortunately, those precautions did not help. Later that day I killed a little over 10 flies myself, the next day was about the same, and yesterday I killed close to 20. For the life of me, I cannot figure out where they are coming from, they just seem to be multiplying out of thin air. It is disgusting and frustrating. It makes me wish more than ever that Richard were home, because I am so not cut out to handle this sort of business.
Then I got another wonderful surprise before dinner yesterday evening. I was about to get the boys' chairs set up, when something caught my eye...something that was moving. Actually, it was about 20 somethings - ANTS. Yes, not only do we have a fly infestation, but we now apparently have an ant infestation on top of it. Seriously? I mean it's like we've got the 10 Egyptian Plagues descending on our house, for crying out loud.
No sooner had I vacuumed up those 20 ants, but dozens more appeared. I was almost in tears at that point, and my parents are out of town, so I called my brother and all but begged him to come help me. Tim drove all the way up here - bless his heart - with his baby in tow. He sprayed all around the outside of my house and helped me place fly traps around the windows. I am keeping my fingers crossed now that this is the end of the story, because I don't think I can handle much more.
Oh, but if I start breaking out in boils, all bets are off.
Mom: Oh, they're good, but...I think you might have a problem..."
Thoughts flash through my mind - A problem? The boys are sick? They aren't getting along? One or both of them is showing signs of being socially-awkward, or sociopathic - or some other negative socio-word??
Me: Uhm, what's the problem?
Mom: Well, in the last hour, I have killed probably 15 to 20 flies in your house.
Ohmigod. Bugs?! This is so much worse than anything I had thought of.
Me: You mean, like, fruit flies? (Please, please, please let it be just fruit flies!)
Mom: No, like regular house flies. The big ones.
Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Ohmigod!
Me: Ohmigod! Gross! What do we do?? We need to bomb my house. This is so disgusting!
My mom calmed me down, and said she had researched fly infestations. She had taken all of the precautions suggested on how to remove the sources of the flies. That sounded great, but I mean, it's not like we live amongst solid waste, people. I may not be the most organized person, but I do try to keep my house freaking sanitary! Unfortunately, those precautions did not help. Later that day I killed a little over 10 flies myself, the next day was about the same, and yesterday I killed close to 20. For the life of me, I cannot figure out where they are coming from, they just seem to be multiplying out of thin air. It is disgusting and frustrating. It makes me wish more than ever that Richard were home, because I am so not cut out to handle this sort of business.
Then I got another wonderful surprise before dinner yesterday evening. I was about to get the boys' chairs set up, when something caught my eye...something that was moving. Actually, it was about 20 somethings - ANTS. Yes, not only do we have a fly infestation, but we now apparently have an ant infestation on top of it. Seriously? I mean it's like we've got the 10 Egyptian Plagues descending on our house, for crying out loud.
No sooner had I vacuumed up those 20 ants, but dozens more appeared. I was almost in tears at that point, and my parents are out of town, so I called my brother and all but begged him to come help me. Tim drove all the way up here - bless his heart - with his baby in tow. He sprayed all around the outside of my house and helped me place fly traps around the windows. I am keeping my fingers crossed now that this is the end of the story, because I don't think I can handle much more.
Oh, but if I start breaking out in boils, all bets are off.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Halfway
I feel like I haven't blogged in ages. This week has really flown by for us, and I am so grateful for that. My best friend from college, Jessica, was visiting for a few days. We had such a great time together, hanging out, staying up till the early hours of the morning reminiscing and laughing. I really needed it; seeing my old friend was like an extended visit to a spa - relaxing and rejuvenating.
Today we reached a big milestone, we are halfway done with deployment. When this journey started, it seemed like we would never get here, and now that we have, it is more exciting than I can say. Richard and I have been counting down the past few days, he even sent me an email at 1am this morning to tell me that we had officially reached the halfway mark. It really seems as though we can start counting down the days, now that we will have the majority of them behind us. Rather than feeling like it will be an eternity until he gets back, things seem a little chaotic now, and I find myself worrying that everything won't be ready by the time he gets home, or that I won't have accomplished everything I wanted to do while he is gone. This halfway point has lit a fire in me, and I am excited and encouraged by this spark of motivation.
The seasons are already starting to turn, too. I can hardly believe it, since we are still in the first week of August, but the tree in our front yard is shedding leaves, and yesterday on our walk I saw a tree a few streets down, and its leaves have already turned that beautiful electric yellow that means fall is upon us. This is exciting too, I am ready for fall, because it means that we are that much closer to Richard's return. I am ready for "sweater weather", hot chocolate, days full of rain and windstorms. I have even pulled out my fall recipes - pumpkin bread, and chili. I think I will force myself to wait until September, but to see that things are already beginning to change...it's almost as if the universe wants Richard to come home too, and I won't argue with that.
Today we reached a big milestone, we are halfway done with deployment. When this journey started, it seemed like we would never get here, and now that we have, it is more exciting than I can say. Richard and I have been counting down the past few days, he even sent me an email at 1am this morning to tell me that we had officially reached the halfway mark. It really seems as though we can start counting down the days, now that we will have the majority of them behind us. Rather than feeling like it will be an eternity until he gets back, things seem a little chaotic now, and I find myself worrying that everything won't be ready by the time he gets home, or that I won't have accomplished everything I wanted to do while he is gone. This halfway point has lit a fire in me, and I am excited and encouraged by this spark of motivation.
The seasons are already starting to turn, too. I can hardly believe it, since we are still in the first week of August, but the tree in our front yard is shedding leaves, and yesterday on our walk I saw a tree a few streets down, and its leaves have already turned that beautiful electric yellow that means fall is upon us. This is exciting too, I am ready for fall, because it means that we are that much closer to Richard's return. I am ready for "sweater weather", hot chocolate, days full of rain and windstorms. I have even pulled out my fall recipes - pumpkin bread, and chili. I think I will force myself to wait until September, but to see that things are already beginning to change...it's almost as if the universe wants Richard to come home too, and I won't argue with that.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Paradox
Sometimes I feel caught in a paradox between not wanting my boys to grow up too quickly, yet wanting the days to fly by so that Richard will get home. I know I can't have it both ways.
The boys have already changed so much in the nearly three months since he left, it leaves me speechless. Jacob becomes more and more like a little boy every day, leaving his baby days behind him. Ryan is quick to keep up with his older brother, and sometimes he seems half baby-half little boy, as he vacillates between the baby-ness of jibber jabber and naptime, to big boy things like saying the words "Ball", "Go" and "Car", and running around.
A few nights ago I found myself in tears as I was looking through old photos of them as little babies. I hardly recognized their cherubic faces; they look like different little people now entirely. I couldn't help but ask myself, Where has the time gone? I know I am tremendously lucky that I get to stay home with them every day, and I count my blessings for that. Yet, even for a stay-at-home mom, things can slip past me, and I find myself in shock that Jacob can sing and count and spell his name, and that Ryan is walking and talking, and will soon be 18 months old! There are no more babies in our house, not little babies anyway. And as awesome as it is to watch them grow and change and learn, it is still heartbreaking at times to know that those wonderful early days are over.
So even though I oftentimes find myself wishing my days away, wanting nothing more than for Richard to be home with us, I have been making a concerted effort to leave the dishes in the sink, to turn the computer off, and to just sit on the floor and play with my boys. I watch them in their play, we sing together, we read together, we chase each other, we tickle, we laugh, we cuddle, we build blocks. We just play, and it is the most wonderful thing in the world. While these moments may go by way too fast, I know that we are creating memories that I will cherish forever.
The boys have already changed so much in the nearly three months since he left, it leaves me speechless. Jacob becomes more and more like a little boy every day, leaving his baby days behind him. Ryan is quick to keep up with his older brother, and sometimes he seems half baby-half little boy, as he vacillates between the baby-ness of jibber jabber and naptime, to big boy things like saying the words "Ball", "Go" and "Car", and running around.
A few nights ago I found myself in tears as I was looking through old photos of them as little babies. I hardly recognized their cherubic faces; they look like different little people now entirely. I couldn't help but ask myself, Where has the time gone? I know I am tremendously lucky that I get to stay home with them every day, and I count my blessings for that. Yet, even for a stay-at-home mom, things can slip past me, and I find myself in shock that Jacob can sing and count and spell his name, and that Ryan is walking and talking, and will soon be 18 months old! There are no more babies in our house, not little babies anyway. And as awesome as it is to watch them grow and change and learn, it is still heartbreaking at times to know that those wonderful early days are over.
So even though I oftentimes find myself wishing my days away, wanting nothing more than for Richard to be home with us, I have been making a concerted effort to leave the dishes in the sink, to turn the computer off, and to just sit on the floor and play with my boys. I watch them in their play, we sing together, we read together, we chase each other, we tickle, we laugh, we cuddle, we build blocks. We just play, and it is the most wonderful thing in the world. While these moments may go by way too fast, I know that we are creating memories that I will cherish forever.
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